#the first book knocked my socks off and the second one is gearing up to be even better

[snabulous]

now why would i write my paper when i could read my gay little boat mystery instead

[yuukiyuunairumafan]

My Owari no seraph oc

Name: Yuuki Suzuki/Hyakuya (She is also in the Shinoa Squad)

Gender: Female

Race: Full human

Age: 16

Like: Cold water, takoyaki, spending time by reading a book and studying. Taking care of the others, training to grow stronger, hanging out with Shinoa or Mitsuba.

Dislike: Mean and rude people. Wasting time. Bully.

Crush: Yuichiro Hyakuya and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Birthday: 11th August

Appearance: Yuuki is a young, beautiful girl underneath that smiley mask. She have long white hair with side braids, tied by black ribbon and crystal blue eyes.

Family member: Yuuna Kiana (Mother, deceased), Leo Suzuki (Father, alive), Yuki Suzuki (Older brother, alive)

The word yuuki [勇気] means courage, bravery and daring. Beware that it can also mean ghost or spirit [幽鬼] or simply something organic [有機]. It's an interesting word that can give a good meaning to a Japanese name. Unfortunately, it is also not usually written with the ideograms of courage [勇気].

愛喜] is a common way of writing yuuki which means love and rejoice. [優希] which means tenderness, kindness and hope and pray. In addition to [優輝] which means tenderness and brightness. 

Backstory: Yuuki grow up in an abusive household. Her mother died after giving broth to her and her father hated her for that. Her bother, Yuki, always be the one who protect her as those two were the only child in the Suzuki household. In my AU, the Suzuki is the second royal family after Ferid's. However, in one certain day, Yuuki went towards Yuki room, holding a novel. She know that Yuki like to read novel so she brought some from the school library. With a smile on her face, she knock on Yuki room before opening it slowly.

"Yuki-nii, I brought you a bo-" Her smile faded once she saw that Yuki was nowhere to be seen. His room were messy, book and paper scatter around the floor and his bed sheets were torn apart. She panicked, dropping the book. Her father, Leo, who saw this begin to smirk. She slowly looked at her father, asking him only for her to get such an unexpected answer. "Oh? Your big brother? How sad. I sold him. He sure having the interest of older woman. I got many money because of that."

She didn't expect her father, her own flesh and blood, to sold her own brother just like that for money. Leo smirk and slapped her hand on her cheeks before turning around and walked away. Yuuki started to cry silently, muttering "Big brother" over and over again as she hold the book close. After a month, Yuuki personality changed. She's no longer cheerful like before. She's now very cold, quiet and distant towards other. Even though her timid and shy self is still there.

At 12th of December, when she was 8, her father told her to get dressed. She did as she was told, changing her clothes. She wore simple plain blue shirt with black skirt and a pair of long white sock and black mary jane shoes. Her father drove her into his car, driving to an empty, cold, dark streets. He grab her by the arms and drag her off the car. He then let go of her. With a disgusted and cold look on his face, he spoke in stern voice. "I don't need you anymore."

With those last words, he turn around and walked away. Leaving Yuuki all alone in the dark and cold streets. And since then, she had a hard time trying to survive up until the manager of the Hyakuya Orphanage begin to notice her. They asked Yuuki if she wanted to stay with them so that she can have a place to live in. Yuuki hesitated at first, not fully trust them but nodded later. The manager took her to the orphanage, and this is when she begin to meet Mika before meeting Yuu a weeks later.

So, my oc also escaped with Yuu after Mika plan failed. Her cursed gear is the same like Yuichiro. A swords/katana. Her demon name is Adeline. Adeline have long blonde hair, red eyes, fangs, pointy ear and seraphic wings. She wore white dress and a pair of white leather boots.

Fact:

-Yuuki is still searching for her brother.

- Yuuki wear mask to hide her face. She is not good at expression her feelings so it might be very awkward since she had a very stoic and blank expression on her face most of the time without the mask on.

-She's inlove with Yuu and Mika, unaware that they also feel the same.

-Yuuki emotion died a long time ago from the abuse of her father.

-And now that she has her emotion returning slowly one by one, she's still lacking of it. And she still can't describe what she was feelings most of the time after a years of not having any emotions and feelings.

-Yuuki love cute things. Her room were filled with teddy bear and such things as plushie, doodles, and much more.

-Her favourite color is black. She didn't like bright color.

-The only color she allow in her room is: Black, white, cherry pink, blue, aqua green and purple.

-Yuuki find Shinoa personality amusing and interesting. Especially that smug grin.

-Yuuki think that Mitsuba deserve the right to kick Yuu since he is very stubborn and act out of order. Or before Shinoa command something.

-Yuuki feel a twinge of jealousy when she see how close Shinoa is with Yuu.

[dumpsterfireofsubtext]

I know now what no angel knows epilogue snippet

Beatrice awoke to her alarm blasting inches from her head. Groaning, she checked the time. The alarm was her fourth backup. Mary had set it up for her and so had free reign over their labels. The current alarm, with its sweet dulcet melody of blaring klaxons, was aptly labelled: 'Now you’re really in the shitter.’’ 

In so many words, Beatrice was late for work. 

Whatever happened in the twenty minutes it took Beatrice to get up out of bed and to the library was between Beatrice and God. Needless to say, she spent the first ten minutes of her work day doubled up against her desk, mopping her brow and wheezing.

All through her shift Beatrice barely thought about her dream or the night before. Her mind was occupied solely with the blinding mundanity of searching up book requests and logging new arrivals and carting returns up and down the library and directing people to the nearest toilet. 

“Jesus Christ, Bea –”

Beatrice’s spine, with no urging from her conscious thoughts, snapped up all on its own. 

“– you look like shit.”

A dark hand laid itself lazily flat against the reception desk from behind her. Beatrice exhaled hard through her mouth and let her body go slack against her chair. For one moment, one single, awful, catastrophic moment, she really thought… she thought…

But it was just Lucia. She was leaning up against the desk with a mug of tea in her hand and biscuits tucked under her arm and was smiling down at Beatrice with her eyebrows raised.

“I’m guessing you and Lily had a pretty wild night.” Lucia dragged out the word ‘pretty’ while at the same time dragging her eyebrows up and almost off of her face. “You should’ve seen yourself though. For a second I thought you were about to blast up out of your little rolly chair and through the ceiling, yelling like goofy all the way.” Lucia placed the tea next to Beatrice’s mouse and began tearing open the packet of biscuits.

Beatrice looked up at her, scowling, then turned back to her computer and said, “You know I don’t know who goofy is. I thought that was just an adjective.”

Lucia didn’t reply. Beatrice heard her shift and felt the pressure of her body against the desk as she leaned further down upon it. Beatrice added another entry to her spreadsheet and let Lucia indulge in sighing wistfully at her for a few more seconds. Only when she felt Lucia gearing up for a really heavy sigh did she turn and say, “What?”

Lucia had her hands folded in her lap and had stretched her legs out so they tapped against one of the wheels of Beatrice’s chair. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “But you do look like shit.”

“Thanks. I slept through my alarm,” Beatrice croaked. 

Lucia laughed at that, saying, “Fucking hell, you sound like shit too.” She nudged the mug of tea closer to Beatrice with her knuckles and put the open stack of biscuits close to her keyboard. “Hard night of slamming shots and… knitting socks, or whatever it is you two do in your free time?”

“No,” Beatrice said sharply. She wasn’t in the mood for banter, but the tea, along with Lucia’s wounded expression, softened her significantly. She sighed and rubbed her eyes from under her glasses. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I do feel like shit. I’m just tired.”

Lucia nodded. She looked down at the desk and pulled out a biscuit with a fore and ring finger. She crossed her arm over her chest, resting her elbow against it, and tapped the biscuit on her lips. She squinted at Beatrice critically. “Is it because of the girl and the postcard stuff?”

For a moment Beatrice had genuinely no idea what she was referring to. Then, as she was always bound to, she remembered. She remembered weeping pathetically in an almost empty theatre and getting rained on and falling asleep and – Ava. She remembered Ava invading her dream, because it couldn't have been anyone else in those robes.

Beatrice dropped her head into her arms, almost knocking over her tea and flattening the biscuits, and she moaned miserably. “Yes.” 

“Pardon?” Lucia asked, amused. “I can’t make out a word you’re saying with your head buried in your armpit.”

Beatrice raised her head to issue her reply. She was aiming for something along the lines of, ‘Yes it bloody well was about the girl and the postcard’, but it came out as, “Yes it – oh my bloody – fuck.”

Before Lucia had time to react, to even so much as drop her biscuit in surprise, Beatrice was already on the ground and rolling herself underneath the desk to crouch by Lucia’s feet. 

“Bea —”

“ —Shushushhhhhh,” Beatrice hissed, pressing her finger to her lips. “Pretend to be me,” she whispered. 

"What?" Lucia choked and spluttered biscuit crumbs onto the floor. She looked around the library, jerking her head left and right, looking for whatever had startled Beatrice into stopping, dropping and rolling so dramatically. A few people were sitting at tables with their heads down, an elderly man just making his way through the front door, and a young woman wandering towards the front desk looking lost – nothing out of the ordinary.

“Pretend to do my job. Don’t – don’t look at me! Just do it.”

Lucia ignored Beatrice’s incoherent demands (as she should) and crouched down beside her. She reached out to press the back of her hand against Beatrice’s forehead and asked, warily, “Are you feeling alright, Beatrice? You look pale and you’re, like, suddenly really sweaty. ”

Beatrice batted her hand away. “Yes, just get up for Pete's sake."

“Hello?” A voice from the other side of the desk called out. 

The front desk was, blissfully, one of those colossal monsters whose tops reach up to chest height, with a little nook for computers behind it and a wide, wide berth underneath for foot space and cables – and now, it seemed, for Beatrice. 

Beatrice paled. A spasm of fear and shock rocketed across her face. “I am begging you,” she said. “Just do it.”

The mortal terror sweating out of every one of Beatrice's pores was what probably got Lucia off of her in the end. She gave Beatrice one last concerned look then shuffled awkwardly backwards out from under the desk. Brushing her shirt free of crumbs, she stood up. "Ah," she said, smiling widely, "there it is." From Beatrice's position on the floor, she could see Lucia pretending to dust off her half-eaten biscuit. "I'm so clumsy," she said, shrugging and putting on her best companionable air.

"That's okay," the voice said with an uncertain laugh to their voice. "Three-second rule, or whatever."

“Yeah, right,” Lucia agreed, also laughing a little unsteadily. Beatrice nudged her foot. Lucia didn’t look down at her, but got the message and made a show of looking busy; tapping randomly at the computer in front of her, humming and scratching her chin, and probably mangling Beatrice’s spreadsheet. Beatrice gritted her teeth and pinched Lucia's leg. At the pinch, Lucia jumped and blurted out, far too formally, “May I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m wondering if a particular member of staff is in today?” said the voice.

Beatrice's heart dropped into her bowels. She was going to be sick. She was going to vomit all over Lucia’s shoes and pass out under her desk. She reached out and held onto Lucia’s leg like a lifeline.

“Oh, yes? And who might that be?” Lucia asked with an affected accent, covertly trying to shake Beatrice off.

Beatrice put a hand over her eyes, partly to steady herself, partly to stop herself from throttling Lucia. She had never heard her speaking so ridiculously in her life. Was she taking what Beatrice said literally and actually pretending to be her? God, Beatrice thought, is that what she thinks I sound like?

The voice hesitated, then said, "I'm looking for Beatrice. She mentioned she worked here. I wanted to see her. She does work here, right?"

Beatrice carefully took her hand from her eyes and waited. Lucia waited too, perhaps for Beatrice to pinch her again, or to be struck by inspiration. In any case, she waited far too long to be natural. At last, Beatrice tugged savagely at Lucia’s trouser leg, almost bringing her down to her knees.

“Hold on… uh – just a second,” Lucia said to whoever was standing in front of the desk. 

“Say yes,” Beatrice hissed when Lucia bent down to the floor.

Lucia gave her a dirty look and pulled her leg free, then straightened again. Her wide smile was back in place. She beamed and raised her eyebrows. “Yes,” she said, as though she were a charismatic TV presenter telling the person in front of her they had just won the lottery. She might as well blow on a horn and do jazz hands while she's at it, Beatrice thought, miserably.

“Oh.” The person at the desk’s voice rose. They sounded relieved. “Is she here?”

Beatrice reached for Lucia’s leg again, but Lucia beat her to the punch. She jabbed Beatrice with her foot, almost crushing her fingers under her boot heel. Not losing her smile for even a moment, Lucia said, “I’m afraid not. She’s out for the day.” Out of spite, Beatrice guessed, she added, “Maybe try again tomorrow?”

Beatrice almost leapt out from under the table and bit Lucia’s ankle like a feral dog. Lucia, as though anticipating just that reaction, stepped nimbly out of Beatrice’s reach.

“Alright,” the voice said with a sigh. “But hey,” – there came two quick thumps on the desktop as a hand slapped down upon it – “thanks anyway.”

Lucia gave a high, choked “Mhmm” in response. 

When the person left and their footsteps receded, Lucia turned on Beatrice and, in tones as dark and forbidding as the library permitted, said, “And what in the hell was that?”

Beatrice was just crawling out from under the desk, peering up over the top of it as though facing a firing squad. “That was the –” she began, but Lucia cut her off.

“I guessed who that was,” Lucia said peevishly, “but why drag me into it? Why launch yourself under the desk and make me improvise doing your job?”

Beatrice flopped down onto her chair and gave Lucia a rueful, pathetically hang-dog look. Lucia folded her arms and glanced away. “Whatever,” she said. “The things I do for you, and this is the thanks I get?”

Beatrice rested her chin in her hands and stared out at the entrance to the library. She took a few steading breaths through her nose, saying nothing.

“I should lock you in the archives for a day, see how you like it.” Lucia was grumbling on, pacing the space behind the desk and gnawing angrily on her biscuit. Only when she caught Beatrice’s expression did she stop mid-tirade. Reassuming her position beside the biscuits and the tea, she leaned down and said, “She was pretty.”

“Yeah?” Beatrice asked dreamily. 

Lucia barked a laugh and slapped Beatrice on the back, knocking her out of her reverie. “Uh, yeah,” she said. “I think I’m starting to get it now.”

“Get what?” Beatrice asked, but Lucia was already backing away. “Get what? Lucia, get what?”

Lucia shrugged and ambled away from the desk, almost swaggering. “Lucia, your radar is impeccable,” she said to herself, then pushed open a set of doors to her left and disappeared. 

“Radar?” Beatrice mumbled under her breath. “What radar?”

Beatrice spent the rest of her work day behind her desk trying desperately to untangle the events of the past few hours. She ran through her dream first, but she had learnt not to place too much importance in them and so quickly disregarded it. Then she thought about her conversation with Lucia, which had crossed a boundary neither of them could uncross for various reasons that involved pinching and hissing and kicking – Not good. 

Absolutely none of it made any sense to her, except, of course, the unmistakable fact that Ava was back in the city and that she was looking for her.

[alfredosauce50]

Welcome to Wolfs Rock [Werewolf! America x reader]

Wordcount: 4, 913 Synopsis: It’s only the first day of your trip to Wolfs Rock, and Alfred is already getting on your nerves. You’re both eager to make things work, but the arrival of a handsome third-wheeler jeopardizes the efforts. Mathias Densen, the camp coordinator. Strangely enough, he ends up being a bigger help to your relationship than expected. When Alfred goes missing, he helps you find him. It’s a nightmare on your end, but it’s more of a mystical daydream to Alfred. The reader is referred to as she/her.

It all started on the camping trip in September.

Being not too cold and not too hot, it was meant to be the best month of the year to go and explore the wilderness. Alfred couldn't shut up about a resort inner state. He was always an outdoorsy person, and this place practically knocked his socks off.

Because rather than going old school and pitching up a tent, you were both staying in a picturesque wooden lodge.

He booked a spot overlooking a lake. Surrounding that was a thick forest of pine trees, making for the perfect hiking trail. You haven't even had a chance to admire the scenery yet, having been stuck being the bellboy, towing around his things.

Racing up the stairs to the porch, he spun around and gleamed at you. "Hurry up, already! I'm dying to see the inside of this lodge!" He exclaimed eagerly, turning back to slot the key into the door. "Man, this place already looks better than the pictures."

You hauled up both of your suitcases with a heavy huff. "You know you can go inside first, right? You've always been ahead of me." He shot you a funny look at what you said before taking your hand. The trip had barely started, and you were giving him attitude. Well, pre-attitude. But he wasn't having any of it.

"And you know I'd never go inside without you, babe. Now cheer up, okay? I'm sorry I dragged you around," Alfred sighed, catching a small smile stretch your lips. "That's my girl." The guy had a way with words, so you found yourself forgiving him faster than you wanted. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be mad during the moment, though.

The excitable goof kept running off and leaving you behind. With his things. His fishing gear.

"Ditch me again and I’m taking the car home, Al."

He laughed nervously. "Wouldn’t be the first time."

"That’s how you know I’m serious."

"So I'll chase you down the road. Works eventually," He added, catching a light glare from you. "And we won't be doing that today." He whispered. Taking your cheek in one hand, he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to your mouth. It was slow and heated, as always. When you returned it, which was hard enough already, Alfred couldn’t help noticing how gentle you were being.

And he didn’t do well with gentle.

"It’s like you hate being around me sometimes," He mumbled over your lips. "What is your problem?" Your attitude transferred to him through the kiss, but he had another way of expressing it. He was leaning in for seconds, and you weren't too thrilled.

Before he could even graze his tongue on you, you clamped a hand over his mouth. "My problem is that you can't take me seriously," You murmured. He blinked, taken aback by your as-a-matter-of-factly tone. "So it’s just as much of a you problem." Releasing him at that, you made your way up the stairs with your things.

Alfred usually would've offered to take your stuff up for you, but it didn't look like you wanted the help.

"But whatever. I don't wanna fight with you."

He hung his head, feeling a hard frown work into his features. So much had changed since you first got together with him. You two weren't always going back and forth at each other. Disagreeing over anything and everything. The chemistry changed for the worse, but one thing remained constant.

He was still crazy about you. Whether you felt the same was a question that needed answering. Once Alfred got his things upstairs, he sat on the bed and watched you change. With his legs sprawled and hands behind his back, he kept a lazy, dazed stare on your form as you took your shirt off. This was the best part. Until he got caught, that is.

Spinning to him with your face flushed red, you tore him a new one. "What're you doing here? Get out!" His eyes widened as a prominent blush took over. Looks like he just made a huge mistake. So he stood up, moved away, and backed up slowly. "Are you dense? Go!" You gave him a strong shove back. He stopped abruptly by the stairs to keep his footing.

"Aye, ooh—" He threw his hands up defensively. "I’m sorry! I just thought you’d be okay with it."

"No, you peeping Tom! If you had your glasses on, you’d be at the bottom of the stairs by now." You finished, walking to the other side of the room.

Alfred covered his eyes. "So, do I go downstairs?"

He couldn’t understand why you were so mad, so maybe he was dense. It went without saying that he’d seen you in less, and none of those times ended with him getting pushed down the stairs.

"Just turn around. I need your help with sunscreen."

The two of you hiked around the mountains for the rest of the day. You only managed a few bad photos of chipmunks, but that didn’t matter when you took great ones with Alfred. He certainly talked enough to be one. By the time you returned to camp for dinner, you'd forgotten what you were so annoyed at him for. Maybe him getting hurt had something to do with it.

"Only kids trip over their own feet," You laughed, pushing him to the side to get him staggering all over again. "Some track star you are."

Alfred shot you a heated glare. "I'm not a kid. I just couldn't see the weird shrubs an' stuff!" He kicked at a stray pebble on the path, but missed it completely. "If you had eyesight as bad as me, you'd get it."

"Nobody could have eyesight as bad as you."

That comment alone got him chasing you around in circles. "Big deal, I got my glasses!" Being starved half to death and tired out of your mind, you let him catch you with ease. While he panted over your face, he pressed breathy kisses all over it. "My foot's getting worse and it's all your fault."

"Stop!" But he kept going, and you never pulled away. Instead, you returned the affection and wrapped your arms around his neck. While your lips met again and again, the only thing you could think about was this—it felt good to be on the same page as him again.

Getting him to sit down had never been so difficult. So you promised you'd get him a little bit of everything, and that did the trick. While you ran off in the cafeteria, you had your head turned to the guy, watching him beam at you with two thumbs up. What an idiot, you thought, but you weren't so much better yourself when you ran right into someone.

The collision was hard, almost as if you ran into a pole. When you glanced up at them, it became clear why—he was huge. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going," You apologized. Your uneasiness, however, melted away when you heard him laugh. When he fell quiet, his energy never left his toothy grin. Something about him reminded you of Alfred.

Blonde, blue eyes, and oozing with charisma. But rather than having his bangs swept to one side, his hair stuck up in all sorts of directions.

He hadn't even opened his mouth yet, and you could tell his personality was just as big as he was. "Don't worry about it! Didn't feel a thing," He piped, turning to the side to hand you a tray. "Here you go. Oh, and don't get the coleslaw. It tastes like soggy newspaper shavings."

"Thank y—" Before you could manage another word, the stranger pulled out a plate from nowhere and plopped a few potatoes on it. "—ou." He set the plate on your tray and gleamed at you.

"Try this. It’s the best thing in the cafeteria. I'd know cuz' I made it myself."

"Wow, um—" Your gaze traveled down to his dress shirt, and over his breast pocket was a name tag. That explained a lot. "—thanks, Mathias," He gave his name tag a playful tap as if to say, that's me. You gave a firm smile as you leaned down to take another tray. "You work here as one of the chefs?"

The man followed you down the aisle. "Eh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I'm the camp coordinator,"

"And they let you in the kitchen?" Mathias shrugged. "Huh. Sounds like fun." You mused, filling up two cups with ice-cold water.

"That's why I work here," He hummed, extending a hand to point at your trays. If the second one wasn't for you, then—"Is this your way of asking me out?"

Alfred suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his leg. "Agh. Stupid foot," Kicking it up onto a chair, he pulled up his pant leg and inspected it. His foot was cramping, and the bandages around his leg were loosening by the second. "Dammit. Some camping trip this is." While he tightened up the rings of white, he caught sight of two figures in his peripherals. One of them he recognized to be you, but the other was a complete stranger. "...?"

You were walking in his direction, and so was he.

"Making friends already, are we?" Alfred mused. You took a seat opposite him while the stranger slid a plate his way. He eyed his food for a moment before catching sight of the name tag. "Oh. Never mind," He would’ve left it at that if it weren’t for your newest pal pulling out a chair. "... Uh... Who’s this?" He tried to be friendly, but his face wasn’t having it.

"Just some dude I bumped into," You explained eagerly. Mathias beamed at Alfred, whose brows were raised in an unimpressed look. "Turns out he organizes everything here. And I was kinda hoping he’d help you with your bandages."

"Right," Alfred tensed up. Great, now he felt bad. The Dane leaned forward and set a first aid kit on the table, making the cutlery rattle. "Wait, wait, wait. You don’t have to do that! I’m totally good. See?" He pulled his pant leg up to reveal a sloppy job of patching himself up. "It’s drying up."

Mathias craned his head to the side. "I dunno about that, friend. You don’t wanna get an infection," He rolled his sleeves up and started rummaging through the trauma kit. And damn, was he ripped. "Alcohol is best for stuff like this."

Alfred wrinkled his nose. "Alcohol? But—agh, fuck!"

"Dude," You whispered-shouted, darting your eyes to the table beside. A couple of kids were staring and cackling at the man who just dropped an F-bomb.

"Fudge! Hey, can you chill with the rubbing?"

The act of kindness turned into something else. It used to be just you and him, but Mr. Camp Coordinator here decided he didn’t have a job to work anymore. Alfred even brought that up disguised as a harmless joke, but Mathias was too unassuming. "But I am doing my job! I’m making sure everybody’s having a good time. Trust me, you’ll have a better day with your leg all fixed up," He grinned, giving his back a few hard slaps to make his torso bounce.

"Yeah, okay, haha. Enough about the leg. I can’t even feel anything anymore," Alfred stared at him through his eyebrows. His reaction was more than enough to get you to slow your movements. What was his deal? Whatever it was, you figured that Mathias had overstayed his welcome. So you did what anybody would’ve done. You lied.

"So, Mat..." Mathias lit up while Alfred’s frown deepened. Mat? Really? "... Alfred and I were just gonna wrap up for the night. We were planning to get up early and go... Fishing,"

"Fishing? Awesome! You know, I’ll be around for the first info sesh. I’ll see you there!" The other chimed. While Alfred shot you an angry look, you shrugged in defeat. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, Mathias got out of his chair and appeared behind you. There, he draped an arm over your shoulder. "So, what’s about that date? Yay or nay?"

Immediately after you gave him a no, Alfred pulled you out of the place. Needless to say, neither of you was joining Mathias for fishing in the morning.

"You said I was dense, but that’s what I call dense!" He hissed, pointing at the cafeteria accusingly. He gave his head a frustrated shake as he continued down the path. You followed after, feeling your chest tighten as he walked off without you. After a few suffocating seconds of silence, he marched back and pulled you into a tight hug. Thank God.

"I’m sorry. This is kinda my fault," He screwed his eyes shut while you squeezed him back. You were way past being upset at anybody, being drained in all manners someone could be drained. All you wanted was to curl up under the covers with him and forget what happened tonight. But fate had something else in store for you both.

"I need to cool off. I really want tonight to work," Alfred pulled away, showing you a small, albeit sweet smile that got you weak at the knees. Handing you the keys at that, he gave one final wave before disappearing into the dark in a brisk jog. "I'm gonna take a walk. A quick one. I'll be back before you know it! So, put on a movie or something!"

"Okay! Don't take too long!" You called back. "And watch the leg!" When you stood up straight again, you found yourself smiling in excitement. Aside from what went down earlier in the day, you were hopeful everything would pan out the way you wanted. He would’ve agreed if he heard you say it.

The walk back to your lodge was short. While you made your way back, you'd glance up at the night sky to watch nature's fireworks. The full moon was huge. There was something ethereal about its ghostly white glow, so it was too bad Alfred wasn't here to see it with you. Without warning, your train of thought was interrupted by a wolf’s howl.

"... Oh God." Letting him run off by himself didn't seem so good of an idea anymore. But you trusted him to be smart. So long as he stayed on the main street lit up by street lamps, the chances of him getting eaten were pretty low.

"Oh, cool! A secret trail!" Alfred mused. Diverging off the path he was on, he wandered into a darker area of the camp. It looked like a field they used to pitch up tents in. The edges were lined with tall pines, so he figured not to get any closer to them. "I guess this is where everything stops,"

He pulled out his phone to turn on the flashlight. The second he turned on the beam, he was met with a wolf sitting several yards away on the grass. Turning its head to the source of the light, it bared its fangs and let out a low growl. "Oh, shit—" He breathed, taking a few steps back. He needed to get the hell out of here before he had his face ripped off.

The animal began to rise, never tearing its reflective yellow eyes off the man before him. That was when Alfred entered panic mode.

While sweat ran down his temple like bullets, he stumbled out a few words. "Uh... Nice doggy?" The creature managed to stand, but not on all fours. Instead, it stood on two legs like a humanoid.

"Wait. What?"

It lunged forward and pounced on him, head-first.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." After several failed attempts at calling Alfred, you were really starting to freak out about the idea of finding his dead body somewhere in the woods. When he said he’d make it quick, you never thought it meant over an hour! That warranted an explanation over the phone, but he couldn’t do you the least of giving you that. So what did you do? You called for help.

"Yello? This is the camp coordinator of Wolfs Rock Camp. What may I assist you with that you need assisting with tonigh—"

"Mathias! Hey! Is this Mathias?" You spoke frantically, hearing a thoughtful hum from the other side.

"Yep, this is me. What can I help you with? Could you tell me your cabin number?"

"Alfred’s missing."

Two strong torch beams scanned around a spot on the wide asphalt road. Even after an hour of relentless searching, neither of you found any sign of him. You even returned to your lodge a few times, hoping to see him outside the door, waiting for you. But he never showed. Exhausted and worried sick, you collapsed onto a bench and hung your head.

Your companion took a seat next to you. "Here," Mathias held out a water bottle under your line of vision. "Clears up the mind. He’s gonna be okay, don’t worry."

Taking it with little hesitation, you downed a couple of generous gulps. "Thanks," You breathed, casting a wary gaze his way. "I don’t know, Mat. We disagree on a lot of things, but I think we’d both know that a few hours is way too long for a walk."

He shook his head with a sigh, then stared out into the distance. The street lamps were going out, one by one, indicating that it was well past ten. Once the last one went out, the whole campsite was plunged into darkness. To say it was eerie was an understatement. "This campsite has been around for longer than I have, and we’ve never had any missing person cases. Ever." Your frown deepened.

He rolled his head to you and showed an apologetic look. "I have to say that you guys are pretty unlucky."

"Very." You scoffed, returning the gesture with a tired smile of your own. "It doesn’t make sense how bad things can get. We’re either at each other’s throats, or something else messes things up for us. It’s almost as if... We’re not meant to be." Your expression saddened, capturing the strong ache in your chest.

Admitting a piece of reality never hurt more.

Mathias reflected that by making another compassionate face. "Hey, chin up. You guys are still together in the end, so I think that’s pretty amazing." He patted your shoulder encouragingly. "Count the lovers’ quarrels an’ stuff as a test. You guys must be crazy for each other to still be good, ya know?"

You lit up just a touch. "You really think so?"

"I know so," He stood up and offered a hand for you to take, and you did. "So, what do you say we save this boyfriend of yours? I know a few spots I haven’t checked yet. I have a good feeling he’d be there."

While he led you around, he’d turn around occasionally to check up on you. Are you okay? He’d ask. Wanna stop for a second? Running around with the guy was like riding the wind. Not only was he fast, but he was also strong enough to pull you around until you became weightless. It was one thing you missed about Alfred, and something you really liked about Mathias. "Alright. Let’s check around this area. If he’s not here, then we’ll have to get the police involved."

You nodded eagerly and ran off. "Thanks again for doing this. I couldn’t have asked for a better person for help." This field looked like an odd place to get lost in, but you had to leave no stone unturned.

He lifted a bush. "No worries! Just doing my job."

"And sorry about what happened at dinner. I didn’t mean to cause any misunderstandings." You continued, bending down to look under a deck.

"Nah, I’m way past that. People tell me I can’t read the room." Mathias called back, watching you walk off to another corner of the field. He turned around to keep looking. "But if things don’t work out with Alfred, I’m free on the weekend." You tripped over something on the ground, but it felt more like a someone than a something. He spun back around. "You know, if he turns out dead or someth—"

"Ahh!"

Mathias carried Alfred all the way back to your lodge. While the Dane cleaned and disinfected his wounds for the second time that night, you stuck around and asked how he was feeling. He’d given you the scare of a lifetime, laying on the ground like that. Not that disappearing for a few hours didn’t do it already. "Are you sure you’re okay? I was convinced I tripped over a dead body—" He gave you a floaty smile. "—I mean, you weren’t moving at all! Maybe we should call an ambulance or something."

"It’s fine, (F/N), I promise. I was just... Really tired," He explained, reaching out to nudge your face with his fingers. Alfred made a face as he laid on the couch. "That fight took a lot out of me, so I took a nap on the grass. But now that I’ve woken up, I feel... Better." His brows came together. "A lot better."

"Wait, you fought the wolf?"

"Well, I guess! He was even standing on two feet, so he had to use his arms to get me... It was like boxing a kangaroo, except not a kangaroo."

"Mathias, is it possible to get a concussion without hitting your head?" You turned to the said man, and he responded by inspecting Alfred’s head.

"Well, you technically could if someone shook you really hard," Mathias murmured, leaning over to examine his face this time. "But I doubt that happened. Maybe he had a nightmare,"

You breathed out a soft sigh. "That won’t happen again, at least. I’ll be sleeping with this idiot," Alfred closed his eyes and practically melted into the pillow. His smile was the biggest you’ve ever seen—you couldn’t bite back a small laugh when you caught it. "Okay, thunder thighs. If you’re so comfortable on the couch, I’ll let you sleep down here for the night."

He shot up and grabbed your hand, catching you completely off guard by his speed. "—?"

"No, I’m sleeping with you."

Your cheeks lit up as you averted his steely gaze. Mathias was still here. As if Mathias read your mind, his movements faltered while he worked with the bandages. He had a deep claw mark down his leg, but it was completely covered once he was finished. So as important as he was, he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be here. "..."

"I was just kidding, you dummy. Of course you are," Standing up from the couch at that, you gave him another look of concern. "I was really worried, you know. I’m never letting you run off by yourself ever again," Making your way around to his head, you leaned down and pecked his forehead. If you lingered your lips on him for any longer, you would’ve felt him heat up in a blush. This whole exchange wasn’t exactly private, after all.

"But if Mat says you’re gonna be okay, I’ll have to believe him." You walked off to the kitchen. "I’ll get you guys some water."

"Thanks! I’m parched!" Mathias glanced down at his patient, then shot him a wink. "Your girlfriend’s crazy about you, dude."

Alfred turned redder than a tomato. "What the hell, man? Just because she turned you down—"

"I’m serious! She couldn’t stop talking about you."

"Yeah, cuz’ I disappeared!"

"Trust me, friend. She’s more in love with you than you think." Mathias grinned. "You’ll see."

Alfred slept like a log that night. When he woke up, the first thing he did was go to the bathroom. After moving you carefully off his chest, he leaned over and put on his glasses. Was it just the morning rust, or was this thing super blurry? Seeing through the lenses made his vision worse than without them. "Huh." Setting them down on the bedside table, he decided he didn’t need them for now.

What he saw in the bathroom mirror, however, had him wondering if he needed his glasses after all.

His reflection showed him with a long, thick beard along with a head of messy, overgrown hair. A few seconds later, he let out the loudest scream.

Alfred’s eyes flew open, but he never stopped screaming. "Ahh!" When he quietened down, he quickly came to realize he was in the same spot as he was last night. The strange field where he met the strange wolfman. Was that all a dream? But that was beside the point. Something was on his legs. He assumed the worst as he scrambled up his feet, but he overreacted. Instead of an animal that was with him, it was a person. And it wasn’t just any person.

"(F/N)?!"

You rolled onto your back so you could better see him. "Alfred?!" You spluttered. The body you tripped over ended up being your boyfriend!

"Oh my God, Alfred!"

Jumping up so you could throw yourself on him, you wrapped your arms around his neck for a bone-crushing hug. "I was so worried! What the hell were you doing here? Why were you sleeping in a place like this? Was that why you never answered my calls?" While you examined his face frantically, he blinked furiously in shock. Only now did it hit him that everything in the last ten hours was a dream.

Getting carried back by Mathias, getting treated by Mathias, falling asleep, then waking up to a face full of hair. As he lingered on the fleeting memory, he grew distracted enough to lost his footing. Falling onto his ass with a grunt, he never managed to tell you off for it when you hugged him on his lap.

And there on his lap you remained.

He returned the embrace, making sure to pin your head down with his chin while he was at it. "Did you miss me?" He murmured, pressing a stretched out kiss to your cheek. It was a question easily answered by your tight hold on him.

How could he have ever doubted you?

"Your girlfriend’s crazy about you, dude!"

Whatever all that was about, he was slowly forgetting it already. The weird dream was vivid enough to give him the heebie-jeebies, but for some reason, he was glad he had it. But never mind that. What mattered was now, and having you forever. "I’m sorry I ran off."

You squeezed him desperately. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like forever since you’d seen him. "Nothing’s ever normal about you. You can’t even take a walk without getting a search party for you!"

Mathias jogged up to you both. "Looks like the gang’s all here! Good to have you back, dude."

Alfred let out a few breathy chuckles. Nothing was ever normal about you and him, was it? "Hey, let’s be nice. If you mean that as a compliment, I’ll take it," He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. You were back to kissing him, but the affection translated to something tenfold of what he gave you. It didn’t look like you gave a damn about an audience, so he had to stop you before you got too carried away. "Hey, woah—save some for the bedroom—Ow, ow, ow!"

After giving him a hard pinch on the cheek, you stood up to thank Mathias again. Pulling him in for a hug, he spun you around a few circles before setting you down on your feet. "Maybe next time, eskler." He hummed, giving your head a gentle pat. "If something like this happens again and he doesn’t make it, the date’s still on the table!"

Alfred stood up again. "Could you leave my girlfriend alone?!" He picked up a pebble and threw it right into his head. "I’m not going anywhere anytime soon!"

"Ouch!"

You broke out into a laughing fit when you watched Mathias stumble forward a few steps. When you quietened down, it was just you and Alfred standing in the field. "You really aren’t," You murmured, glancing up at the man with a tender gaze. "But I’m not either." He was already staring, and those love-laden eyes were something you could barely stomach. Because whenever he looked at you like this, you couldn’t resist him. "Let’s go back to the lodge."

Alfred took your hand in his. "You read my mind," He grinned. While the two of you walked off, he noticed that his leg wasn’t hurting anymore. Getting clawed there never happened, but that hiking incident did. It was strange how fast he’d recovered.

"Well, I’ll be damned," He whispered under his breath. The cherry on top was the feeling of you grasping at his arm, a sure-fire sign that you were more than content with him. And the thought got him smiling from ear to ear.

"Maybe we aren’t as unlucky as we thought."

Once the field was empty again, something appeared by one of the pines. A wolf with a beautiful coat of grey fur. It was nothing like the mangy creature Alfred encountered, but there was one feature they shared. When it opened its eyes, a pair of brilliant golden irises were revealed.

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Here's a great photo I found of Alfred: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/a9/ec/00a9ec9e3d5952038c89b1c9fda38158.jpgwith

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case Of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: Castle Byers scene. Meaning lots of angst, self destructive thinking, and misguided self punishing

📝: Started making it... had a break down [fr tho]... ¯\_( ツ)_/¯ bon appetite! 👩‍🍳 [edit: told ya 💀]

🔑: underlined and bold means they're talking in Russian

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Warm rain spits from the angry blanket of clouds, falling through the sky and drenching Mike and Lucas to the bone despite their rain gear. Mud splashed up onto their ankles and drenching their socks as their bikes skid up the Byers driveway. Without a thought, they throw their bikes into the ground before racing up onto Will's porch.

It had taken far longer than they cared to admit to decide to go and find Will. To make things right.

Mike was realizing far too late just how right Will was. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. El had become such an important piece of his life, but he hadnt realized until now just how much he let his feelings screw up all the wonderful things he had in his life to begin with. He missed how things used to be. With the party. With Y/n.

With Will.

All the anger he feels towards himself is channeled into his fist banging on Will's front door.

"Will!" He cries. "Will, I'm sorry, man, alright? I was being a total asshole. I've been a total asshole. Please, can you just come outside and we'll talk?"

No answer but the thundering clouds rolling over their heads. He pounds on the door again.

"Will!"

Lucas hurries to the window, cupping his palms against the glass and peering inside. He knocks on the window, doing his best to peer around the curtains and furniture obscuring his sight.

"Hey, Will! Come on, man! We're sorry!" He knocks again, growing nervous. "Will!"

||𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

'Sorry, man. Curfew,'

'For the last time, Will! No!'

-'What, so I should be locked up all day, too?'

-'Maybe!'

Huffing, I throw the wrinkling comic book into the old mattress. Nothing was working. Nothing was enough to distract me. I was too angry.

I looked down at the withered cover of the comic book I had just thrown, my chest sinking further. Dustin's X-MEN 134, he gave it to me after that night at the hospital.

Thinking about it now, I can't even remember the last time all seven of us hung out as a party. I don't count Dustin's welcome home. Mike and El couldn't be bothered to pretend to care, and Lucas and Max kept ganging up on Dustin. Dustin was understandably upset and not wanting anything to do with us, leaving just me and Y/n. And now, not even her.

How did everything get so messed up?

What was I doing wrong?

I looked around the walls of Castle Byers, a lump forming in my throat. Everywhere I looked, I was painfully reminded of the truth.

My friends don't want me anymore.

I keep telling myself that's bullshit, but the more I do the more it feels like a lie.

They're moving on without me.

Friends don't just forget you, I reasoned. They don't just abandon you.

Then why were they doing just that?

Maybe they weren't my real friends. Friend's don't do what they did.

Everything hurts. I've been telling myself I'm fine, that I'm overreacting but I don't think I am anymore. I'm just tired. I'm tried of feeling like this. I'm tired of being pushed aside, especially when I need them most.

They didn't use to be like this, I tell myself. But somehow that just hurts more.

I had people that cared about me, who were willing to risk their lives to save me. Twice.

And now they don't give me a second thought.

I was shaking now, but I don't think it's from the rain. The storm had finally reached me, seeping through the walls and dampening my clothes and hair.

Another painful realization hits me; Castle Byers looked just like it had the night I built it with Jonathan.

Even though this night was so much like the night Castle Byers was constructed, it couldn't feel more different. More unfamiliar.

My teary eyes find my first D&D manual, propped up against the wooden walls, soaked and forgotten like me. I'm painfully reminded of the night all this started.

I remember it as clear as if it were yesterday, and yet it feels light-years away.

'Something is coming. Something hungry for blood.'

《•••》

"What is it?" I ask, edging further off my seat.

This time it's Dustin who cuts in, "What if it's the Demogorgon?"

Oh, great, I think, throwing myself back in my seat with an anxious huff. We're not ready to face a Demogorgon!

Beside me, Y/n draws in an equally anxious breath.

"Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." Dustin rambles on.

"It's not the Demogorgon." Lucas says, assuring us all.

《•••》

My eyes trail to one of my favorite drawings; Will The Wise and Y/C/N. The one I had made when Y/n was first constructing her character. The one that hung in my room for so long, always cheering me up. The one that gave my mom the idea to help me communicate my now memories.

The one that Y/n always threatened to steal for her room as often and as recently as her last visit. The memory of her warm touch lingering on my cheeks burned as bright as the blush raging over me that night so long ago.

'Wait a minute... Did you guys hear that?'

《•••》

The anticipated silence in the basement left by Mike grew louder as he leaned in.

"Boom..." His voice grows louder. "Boom," Louder.

"BOOM!" Mike bellows, slamming his hands against the flat surface, rattling the table and all its contents.

The sudden noise was enough to make me and my friends jump, as was the sudden hand grabbing for my own.

All the more startled, I look down to see Y/n's hand grasping my arm like a lifeline. I feel my skin flush, my cheeks surely reddened as I catch her eye. She looked flustered, smiling a small smile before retracting her hand and returning to the game, unknowingly leaving me in a dizzying blush.

•••

"Will, your action!"

"Fireball!" I cry, throwing the dice to the board with a satisfying rattle.

"FOURTEEN!"

My friends erupt into cheers, all around me as we celebrate together.

"BOOM!"

"Direct hit!" Mike cries, beaming proudly at me across the table. "Will the Wise's fireball hits the Thessalhydra!"

Our excited shouts fill the basement, each and every one of us victorious. My smile can't get any wider when I feel Y/n's hands grip my shoulder and begin shaking me excitedly. We both laugh, feeling on top of the world with our cheering friends by our side.

《•••》

Pained, I look away only to find the proof right in front of my eyes. My three favorite pictures; all of them, my friends and me — happy — staring back up at me.

Our photo from the science fair, encased in the popsicle frame Mike had made bearing all of our characters' names along the side. I brought it here, I brought all my favorite pictures here, to Castle Byers — to my safe place — cause that's where I knew I would need their comfort the most.

But as I look at them now, all I feel is bitterness and pain. I'm reminded of just how much everything has changed.

The science fair was a reminder of the good thing I had before that night. Before everything started.

Y/n and me, at the Snow Ball. My arm wrapped around her, the two of us grinning nervously. It wasn't just the night Y/n and I had first kissed, it was also the first night I felt like the Party had gotten bigger. All of us, Max and El included had been happy. Everyone was laughing and getting along, the happiest we had ever been — the strongest. But now I see it was really the beginning of the end.

It had been coming for so long and I didn't even see it.

And Halloween. Last Halloween, everything had been perfect. For just one. Single. Stupid. Moment.

Shakily, I pick up the photo Jonathan had taken of all of us in our costumes. We were all smiling.

We were all happy.

'Who you gonna call?'

《•••》

I beam as I see my friends pulling up, looking just as excited as I felt.

"Ghostbusters!" I finish, watching as they look me over, happily surprised.

"Hey, Spengler!"

"Egon! Looking sharp!" Y/n grinned, pulling me into a quick hug.

"Janine!" I beam. "Venkman!"

《•••》

As I look at it now, my eyes and throat stinging as Mike's voice echoes louder than ever in my mind.

'I mean, what did you think, really?'

What was I thinking?

'That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day, playing games for the rest of our lives?'

How could I have been so naive?

'it's not my fault you can't move on!'

How could I have been so... so...

"Stupid." I tell myself, my voice splitting in my throat. "So stupid!"

My hands trembling violently with rage and my own sobs, I tear the photo in two.

I was stupid. Stupid to believe I was as big of a priority to them as they were to me.

I rip the drawing off the walls, tearing it to pieces.

Stupid to ever think they'd still cared about me.

I rip and tear and crumple up every meaningful piece of them in an act of defiance.

They won't care. I think bitterly. They won't miss these, they probably won't even notice. Not like I would have.

I grab my bat.

How could I be so fucking stupid?!

Why was I hanging on to all this stuff anyway? Why was I clinging so tightly to something that was already gone?

Because I've been stupid. I'm just some stupid kid that won't grow up.

I storm out of the tent.

I'm just some stupid kid who can't grow up. They made that perfectly clear.

I stand in the pouring rain now, heart thundering in my chest as I stare at the piece of my childhood I couldn't let go of.

So. Stupid.

And I start swinging.

I swing and I swing, with an anger and frustration I've never felt so intensely until now. It's been building my whole life and I didn't realize it. Every swing is simultaneously the best and the worst I've ever felt. Every slur I've heard from my dad, from Troy, is channeled into the bat. Every ounce of frustration and fear I felt since I came back from the Upside Down that nobody understood. Every laugh, every jeer, every single moment I've felt alone is channeled into the destruction of the one place on this earth I ever felt safe.

But it holds up and in the back of my mind, I hear Jonathan again.

'And it took so long cause you were so bad at hammering'

And I start kicking, and I start ripping the walls apart until it's a crumpled heap and I stop.

The sight of Castle Byers in ruins breaks me even harder.

I didn't want it gone, but I did it anyway. That part of me that was angry at myself, told me to keep going. Cause that's what I deserved for believing things could stay the same even though deep down I knew that wasn't true.

I finally stop when I see the castle in ruins.

Exhausted, I collapse to the ground beside the wreckage.

As I sob, stewing in the pain and overwhelming grief I felt I was drowning in, the rain pours heavily over me, soaking me to the bone.

Just as it had the night it had been built.

And now, Castle Byers was gone.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

When blue meets yellow in the west.

8:41 pm. It was almost time.

The yellow and blue clock hands were illuminated by a flash of lightning, streaking through the mall's skylight. Starcourt had long since closed, and the real activity was just beginning.

Stationed at the loading docks near the back, standing under the worst storm Hawkins had seen in years were two guards. They watched through the downpour as the scheduled truck backed its way under the concrete cover.

And perched on the roof, just out of sight sat Dustin, Steve, and Robin, scouting from under their rain slickers.

"Look for Imperial Panda and Kauffman Shoes," she reminds them.

Steve wipes away at the rain dripping into his eyes, squinting even further to get a clear picture Dustin already has.

A man in a bright yellow raincoat emerges from a hidden side door, a trolley cart full of packages marked with a familiar insignia.

"They're with that whistling guy!" Dustin says suddenly, motioning out from behind the only pair of binoculars.

"What do you think's in there?" Steve wonders, eyeing the Lynx logo on the back of their many yellow jackets.

"Guns? Bombs?"

"Chemical weapons?" Robin tries.

"Whatever it is," Dustin says, now cautiously studying the heavily armed guards. He had to admit to himself, they really weren't trying very hard not to be obvious. "they're armed to the teeth."

"Great," comes Steve's sarcastic voice, once again rubbing at his eyes, silently wishing he had brought a coat with a hood. "That's great."

A soft clink that would have been obnoxiously loud had it not been for the noise of the storm brings their attention to another guard. Having pressed a glowing button on a small control panel, two large metal doors swung open to reveal another room.

"Hey!" Robin says, squinting through the rain as she tries to get a glimpse without the binoculars. "What's in there?"

"It's just more boxes,"

"Let me check it out," Steve says, grabbing for the binoculars.

Huffing, Dustin fought to keep his grip on the binoculars. "No, I'm still looking!"

"Lemme see it!"

"Hang on!"

Steve's grip had loosened with the slick of rain, sending the binoculars knocking into the cement. The issue had already been forgotten when they saw the guards' attention had been stolen. Simultaneously, the three of them dove to the ground in a panic.

The guards began to pace, grip on their firearms tightening as they gaze out into the night. Seeing nothing but empty roofs and angry skies above them, they unknowingly miss the trio huddled against the roof wall.

Just out of sight to the right of Dustin, Steve and Robin sat panting as they try to calm their racing hearts. Way too close a call. And neither of them had realized what they had done until their eyes landed on their entertained hands. Just as quickly as they notice, they break apart, embarrassed.

Down below, the guards were now on high alert. One of them, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, stalked into the rain with his eyes deadset on an open spot on the roof. He was certain he heard the noise come from that direction.

"Stay here!" He orders to the other. "Watch the door!"

Reluctantly, his partner complies and inches back towards the doors.

When he finally reaches the top of the stairwell, he hesitates only a moment before he throws the roof door open, gun cocked.

But he was met only with steady claps of thunder and an empty roof.

Had he been wrong?

Or had he just missed whoever had been here?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Clothes drenched, their shoes sloshing underneath their feet like sponges, Steve, Robin, and Dustin slip out from the shadows and make their way throughout the back halls behind the scenes of Starcourt.

"Well, I think we sound your Russians," Robin quips.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Black Trans Travel Fund:

For The Gworls:

"The Black Trans Travel Fund is a grassroots, Black Trans led Collective, providing Black Transgender Women with financial and material resources needed to remove barriers to self-determining and accessing safer travel options"

Trans Women Of Color Collective Fund

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Founded by a Black transgender woman and a Black nonbinary person, For The Gworls raises money to help provide funds for rent and gender affirming surgeries for Black transgender people across the country."

Taglist:

@dickkwad @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @peeperparkour ​ @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes ​ @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @daughter-of-the-stars11 ​ @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl ​ @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @gizmofishersupremacy @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[mikkomacko]

In The Shadows 6

Niall's car still has that new cherry smell, and the leather seats look fresh, but the floor and cup holders are riddled with articles of clothing, textbooks, a soccer ball, and trash. Most of the clothes are piled up on the left seat, squishing y/n into the middle because her legs aren't as long as Harry's. Zoe's going over the end of the game's events, but Harry's not listening nor is y/n. She's too focused on how pretty Harry looks when he's groggy, puffy eyes and lips pouting like a toddler despite not having anything to pout about. By the way he's pressed against her, lips practically attached to her neck, she's surprised he's not smirking devilishly.

Her fingers soothingly rub his scalp and he practically purrs at the feeling, pressing his nose deeper into her neck. She giggles, snuggling him closer and laying her cheek on top of his head.

"I know he didn't get hit in the head but are you sure he's not concussed?"

Harry grumbles, breath hot on her skin. "Fuck off! M'just tired."

Niall and Zoe giggle, y/n ignoring the smug way her friend is watching in the rear view mirror as she strokes her fingers through Harry’s hair at the nape of his neck. He falls still, most likely on the verge of unconsciousness and the rest of the ride to the frat house is silent. Niall takes Harry’s bag in for her, pulling Zoe along by the hand while she fights with Harry to wake up enough to get up the stairs.

"Can't feel my legs peanut," he whines, flopping against the railing halfway between the two floors. "carry me please? Like ya used to when we played life guard?"

Y/n can't help but snort at that. Life guard was a silly game they played when they were kids in which someone pretends to drown and the other has to rescue them. Similar to the whole knight-damsel in distress thing but in the city pool. Back then she had height on Harry, and a bit more body mass than him too, so lifting him out of the pool like a princess was quite easy. Now though, she can't imagine being able to even lift his legs.

"Harry, you don't have the weight of a twelve year old anymore. I can't carry you up the stairs."

Childishly, he whines and slumps to the floor with a pout. "Are ya saying I'm fat?"

Digging her hands under his arms, she attempts to pull his large body up but fails miserable. "No," He barely budges. "I'm saying you're a twenty year old, beefy soccer player with the build of a Greek statue, and I'm shorter than you with noodle arms."

Harry pushes himself back to his feet, cheeks splotchy with blush and a shy grin on his lips. "So you're saying I'm hot?"

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her flush with heat, rolling her eyes and nudging him up the stairs again. "Yes Harry, I think you're hot." This time, he obeys, peeking over his shoulder at her as he climbs.

"Don't worry peanut, I think you're hot too."

~

Harry's glad he remembered to lock his door last night, because the soft raps against it as well as his mother's soft call of "Harry? You awake sweetheart?" is what wakes him up. But not only him.

Y/n groans as she rolls onto her stomach, face burrowing into his pillow. Harry puffs her hair out of his face, eyes shooting open when his mother knocks again. "J-just a second!" He calls back, voice raspy and slurring with sleep. His shout rouses y/n, turning to face him with an annoyed scrunch between her eyebrows. She blinks at him, confused by the panic on his face.

"What's going on?" She mumbles, snaking a hand up the soft skin of his chest until her palm rests over his heart. It's a sweet gesture and if this were any other morning he'd pull her onto his chest and comment on her morning breath before smacking a kiss to her cheek. But his mother is right outside the door

"My mum's here." Y/n propels herself up at Harry's words, eyes widening as she scrambles out of his bed. There's a confusing moment where they both just stare at each other, y/n in the middle of the room with his rumpled shirt and boxers on her, and him still in bed in nothing but his underwear.

"Are you okay Harry?" Anne calls worriedly and that snaps him out of his stupor. "Are you hurting?" He is in fact hurting, particularly on his ribs but he can ignore it for now.

"M'fine! Just getting dressed!" He picks up the first pair of jeans he can find, hopping on each foot as he tries to wiggle into them. Y/n is frantically picking up her clothes from last night while trying to keep her messy hair out of her eyes. "In the bathroom peanut!" Harry whispers urgently, nodding towards the door while he slips on a shirt.

Y/n follows his instructions, disappearing into the bathroom with him on her tail. She drops her clothes onto the counter, fisting at her sleepy eyes and it's so cute Harry wishes he could drag her back to bed right then. He refrains, quickly gearing his tooth brush up with paste and shoving it between his lips.

"'f ya hear me coming in, hop in the shower, m'kay?" He mumbles through froths of toothpaste, sloppily scrubbing his teeth before spitting into the sink. Y/n nods, eyebrows scrunched in focus but by the daze in her eyes he knows she's still half asleep and probably trying to figure out what the hell is going on. His lips quirk up as much as possible while being opened around his tongue, and he quickly scrubs that part of his mouth too before rinsing his toothbrush and mouth.

Y/n stumbles on the bathroom rug, looking down in confusion and then glancing around the bathroom as if just realizing where she's at. "Okay Peanut?" He asks, using his fingers to comb through his hair that's in desperate need of a wash. She nods just once, a yawn stretching her mouth and then she smiles, soft and warm at him. "Can get back in bed once I leave yeah? Just lock the door for me before crashing."

Another prodding knock comes from the door, snapping Harry out of his rose tinted daze. He cups her face, pecking a good morning kiss to her pouting lips. Y/n straightens out his necklace for him, sinking to sit on the edge of the tub and lays her head against the tiled wall. Sparing one last glance, he exits the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. Shaking out his previous panic, he unlocks his bedroom door and opens it.

"Took you long enough." Jess says in greeting, hovering behind Anne with an irritated scrunch on her face. Harry hadn't even realized Jess was here too, and he tries hard to ignore how pissed he is at her for the sake of his mother but he can already feel his neck growing hot with anger.

"Was still getting dressed." He replies dully, only smiling when Anne grabs his face to look over him. Harry gives her a moment to examine him before chuckling, peeling her insistent fingers away. "M'fine mum. Three stitches on my leg and a bruise along my ribs, that's all."

Anne gasps, as if he'd just said he'd been shot. Harry rolls his eyes, backing up into his room to get the pain killers off his dresser. He needs to take one before his leg starts to hurt so bad he can't move. "A bruised bone? Harry I told you to be careful playing-"

"I was careful!" He defends, dropping one of the pills into his mouth. "It's not my fault the other team was playing dirty! And it's not the bone, just the muscle around the bone."

Anne eyes him skeptically, huffing when he swallows his medicine and smiles at her. With a roll of her eyes, she finally relaxes and Harry drops onto the corner of his bed to slip on his socks. Jess perches herself on the edge of his desk, careful to avoid crushing the loose papers and books he has there. "Since when do you read something like Little Women?"

Harry glances up, finding Jess holding his copy of the book with a smug eyebrow raised. Anne picks up a pile of clothes on his floor, dropping them into the laundry bin. He bites back a protest, knowing how much she loves to come over and move his things and 'straighten up.'

"Since a few weeks ago."

Jess hums, dropping the book back on his desk. "Y/n has been reading it too even though she's seen the movie a billion times."

Frowning, Harry moves to stand next to her, stacking his stuff haphazardly just to keep her from digging through it. "I know. We're reading it together since you fucked up her book group."

"Stop cursing at your sister!" Anne scolds just as Jess scoffs. She crosses her arms over her chest, squinting accusingly at him and he has to remind himself that the fight between her and y/n is their fight, not his. He can't interfere, can't risk revealing that he's in love with and dating y/n. She has to be the one to step away Jess. He can't make that decision for her.

"That club was my idea anyway! And I shouldn't have to do it. Those books have nothing to go with my major."

Snorting, he shoves loose pens and pencils into the drawer of his desk. Why the fuck would Jess start book group when she knew that the books had literally nothing to do with her degree in business? "And getting ya nails done with the plastics does?"

Don't get Harry wrong, he hates fighting with Jess. Hates how high pitched she screams, hates that she always runs to Anne, hates the way it makes him feel. That's his baby sister, someone who's been his closest friend their whole lives. But he knew the comment would provoke her and that's exactly why he said it.

Her shrill response is almost instant. "My future depends on that sorority! That's how I'll make connections, get a job, doing something real instead of some silly sport!"

Harry scoffs, chest throbbing at the jab at his favorite thing in the whole world. It's always been his hobby, his love. Something Jess couldn't take from him because she's God awful at sports that aren't volleyball. He's based his whole life off of soccer and she's treating it like he's some washed up high school team captain. "I'm not in the frat just for soccer!" He grumbles, slamming the drawer of his desk shut and cutting across the room. He doesn't know where to go because they're still in the same fucking room but he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom door.

"Oh of course not. I know the girls that hang around here."

Harry whips around to face her, eyes blazing at the amused expression she wears. Maybe Harry slept around a little too much last year, but he wasn't a dick. He treated them all respectfully, made sure they knew that it was just sex for a night, nothing more, but that doesn't make him or any of his one-night-stands bad people. Sex is no reason to degrade someone and her even insinuating that she's superior for not sleeping around makes his blood boil so much he could kick a soccer ball at her head. "You don't anything about the people I hang around. For fuck's sake, you don't even know the people you hang around!"

"Would you too quit it already!" Anne hollers, cutting off whatever argument was on Jess' tongue. She angrily hangs one his sweaters up in the open closet, reaching down to work on the pile of hoodies sitting on the closet floor. "Jess stop teasing your brother, Harry stop yelling and-"

Anne's scolding abruptly stops, gaining Harry's full attention. He turns his glare to his mother, watching her rise from her crouched position from the closet and slowly turn around. Brows knitting in confusion, Harry wonders what she could have possibly found that's got her so shocked, until she stretches out her hand and he recognizes the fabric dangling from her pointer finger.

It's a bra. Not just any bra either. A soft peach colored one, with a cute little bow in the front and lace on the cups that Harry knows he laid eyes on last night before slipping it off y/n and throwing it over his shoulder. It seems in their scramble to hide y/n, they missed her bra that got buried under his sweater from last night. Harry's ears burn, ignoring the pointed look Jess is giving him as he snatches the bra from Anne, stuffing it in his underwear drawer.

"Harry..."

"S'just a bra mum." He mutters weakly, hoping to God that his sister doesn't somehow recognize it at y/n's.

"I know what it is." She snorts, and Harry huffs before flopping onto his bed. "I also know it means you had a girl up here and-"

"Would you believe me if I told you she just stayed the night?"

Jess guffaws, opening her big mouth for another ridiculing comment but Anne elbows get daughter before she can speak. Harry meets Anne's eyes, frowning at the fake smile on her lips. "If that's what you're saying happened, I believe you."

He can tell by the pitch of her voice that she's lying, but he doesn't care. That story is the truth and he'll stand by it, whether she trusts him or not. Rolling his eyes, he looks back at the bathroom and subtly winces, remembering y/n falling asleep in the bathtub. He thought they'd be leaving, maybe going for lunch but now they're just sitting and staring at each other.

"Should we go get brunch?" Harry finally says, hoping they've both had enough of messing with his life and will agree.

"Yes please! I'm starving!" Jess moans, already moving towards his door. Harry slips on his shoes, rolling his eyes again as she dramatically Yanks open his door. "Y/n hasn't gone grocery shopping with me so I haven't eaten."

Anne follows after Jess, cooing lightly and Harry is really debating ramming his head into the wall but decides against it. It'll definitely knock him out, and bring y/n out of the bathroom, and the last thing he needs is y/n trying to explain why she's hiding in his room, in his clothes, while he's out cold. Begrudgingly, Harry follows, grabbing his phone and opening his messages to y/n. He closes his bedroom door, sending her a text.

To Peanut

Coast clear. Don't know when I'll be back but feel free to stay and hang out. I'll let Niall know you're here so he can make extra food

BTW your bra is in my drawer ;) x

~

"God it's so nice to have those fucking stitches gone." Harry practically moans as he closes the car door, dropping his head back against the headrest. "Were itching me so bad, I swear I was gonna go mad."

Y/n giggles, leaning on the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. "Yeah I know, s'why I was massaging your leg every night before bed."

Harry's smile widens, eyes going moon-y when he turns to look at her. Her stomach overflows with butterflies. "Treat me so good, ya know that?"

Her face floods with heat, biting back a giddy smile. Y/n loves when Harry says sweet things like that, voicing his appreciation and acknowledging her. Again, she wonders how in the world he's related to Jess. And she wonders how she put up with it for so long. "Are you sure you'll be okay for your game this week?"

After missing two weeks of games and limited practice, everyone knows Harry's itching to get back on the field, but she doesn't want him reopening his wound or making it worse by not healing properly. Maybe she's babying him too much, but if it keeps him from getting hurt she doesn't care.

Harry grabs her hand off the console, bringing it up his mouth to kiss the back of it. "M'sure peanut. Doesn't hurt one bit." When she raised a questioning eyebrow he laughs, squeezing her fingers with mirth. "I swear I feel aces."

"Alright," she sighs "if you say so I believe you."

Harry gently places her hand in his lap for a moment, just long enough for him to start the car and let his phone play through the aux cord before connecting their palms again. "You're gonna be there, yeah?" He asks nonchalantly though he knows she'll be at every game. She's even gone out of her way to see him at away games. Yet there's something in him that makes him ask. That something being every high school game he played being void of any family members. The only person who showed up to a couple of them were y/n, always tucked in the corner of the bleachers by herself because Jess had volleyball.

"Of course I'll be there. And then we've got the Halloween party after."

Harry grins triumphantly, "I'll get dressed right after the game and pick ya up? Or are ya going to the house right away?"

"Zoe and I are getting ready at mine. Niall's meeting her there too so you two should drive together."

Harry hums, thinking over the idea. She can tell by the lack of frowning that he's already accepted that plan so she changes the subject. "Is there anything else you need for your costume?"

A woman in scrubs crosses in front of the car, heading towards the entrance of the hospital. Harry's eyes briefly focus on her before his eyebrows pinch together. Y/n is certain she has everything for her costume and she thinks Harry got all his things too. Still, she wants them to look perfect.

"Think I just need some boots but Zayn should have a pair." He finally concludes, then turns to her with a grin. "Reckon you'll kick my ass if I wear Chelsea's eh?"

The unamused quirk of her eyebrow is enough of an answer for him. Chuckling, Harry shifts the car into reverse, extending his arm over her seat as he leaves the parking spot. She waits until he's in drive and safely on the road back to campus before reaching for his hand again.

"Staying with me again?" Harry asks, a hopeful lilt in his tone despite her sleeping at the frat house at least three times a week.

"Fine, but you're staying over with me on Wednesday. I have an early study group and my place is closer."

Harry grins, dimples sinking deep into his cheeks. She knows that he hates having to climb through her bedroom window but her bed is more comfortable so he tries not to complain.

"What are ya studying for?"

"Chemistry exam next week." She grumbles, already dreading the upcoming test. Y/n absolutely loathes science, and even though chemistry is her least hated, she still struggles with the curriculum.

"M'sure you'll do amazing Peanut," Harry assures, having experienced many breakdowns over science work with her throughout the years. "Especially if you're already starting to study. Just don't overwhelm yourself, yeah?"

Appreciative, she nods and gives his hand a squeeze. "Anyway, gotta interview for my job next week so our time together may get a little cut." Harry pouts at his own words, already missing her even though she's sat in the passenger seat next to him.

"Oooh a job?"

Harry giggles lightly. "S'not very glamorous. Just a cashier at that bagel place by the campus apartments."

Y/n instantly lights up, having visited the place with Eleanor once. "I like that place!"

"You've been there?"

She nods, adjusting herself in the seat so she's turned more towards him. "I went with El before one of your games once. It was really cool. And now I have a reason to go again."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows pinching together in faux confusion. "Oh? What reason might that be?"

"Well," she clears her throat, leaning in closer to him as if telling a secret. "it's kind of classified information but I hear they're hiring this really good looking cashier."

Harry attempts to hide his pleased smirk, ultimately failing. "Really? What's he like? Maybe I'll go take a look at this fittie."

His joke brings a bubble of giggles out of her, the sound so pretty Harry peels his gaze away from the road for a brief second to see her smile. "Well, he's not got a major yet but I don't think he's really fretting over it which I think is really cool, because in my opinion, he's such a good soccer player, he'll probably end up signed to a pro team before undergrad graduation anyway."

The way Harry's cheeks tinge pink brings a swelling pride to her chest. He clears his throat, looking a bit too cocky at her response before further questioning her. "Really? Soccer ya say?"

"Mhm."

"Well I don't know if you're aware, but m'on the soccer team."

"Oh really?"

"Captain and everything. Maybe I know this extremely sexy player that doubles as a cashier?" Harry chokes out a little giggle, clearing his throat to gain back his composure. "What's his name again?"

Y/n sighs, pretending to think before gasping. "Now that you mention it, I think I've seen him with you before. He's got a really nice name. Kinda short but pretty."

"Well spit it out already!"

"Oh right!" She sits up straighter, leaning in close again. Harry bites his lip, eagerly awaiting her utterance of his name. "It's Zayn."

"Heyyyy!"

~

Jess never brought up book club to y/n, not even after she fought with Harry about him taking her place. In fact, that seemed to drive the stake between their friendship even deeper because Jess hasn't gone out of her way to try and fix things with y/n again. She stopped hounding her about her boyfriend, stopped complaining to her about groceries, stopped asking her why she slept over at Zoe's so often (Zoe being her cover for nights at the frat house). By the time Halloween came around, y/n didn't even think Jess would care that she had plans with someone else. They're usual pairing up for costumes had been forgotten, leaving her to easily plan out her night with Harry.

“He insisted on not wearing tights, even if it meant wearing a dress the whole night.”

Y/n laughs at Zoe’s retelling of her picking a costume with Niall, meeting her friends eyes in the mirror as she clips her hair up under her green hat. She's in a little green dress, the edges falling in little triangles against her lighter green tights. A brown belt has gathered the dress at her waist, and her curled hair is peaking out of the cap on her head, blending in cutely with the red feather. Y/n thinks she looks cute, and she's so happy that Zoe and Niall have gone for the gender swap form of Peter Pan and Tinker Bell.

"He's going to freeze his balls off." Y/n laughs, swabbing her brush in more black face paint. "But then again so is Harry. He's shirtless tonight so careful if he comes near you."

"Thanks. I'd hate to lose an eye to one of his four nipples."

They giggle again, y/n darkening the black on her nose and lining her lips. The paws of her dalmatian costume flop dangerously close to smearing the black and she squeals before pushing the sleeve up. Once her dog nose has been drawn, she outlines a spot on her eye.

"Harry played really good tonight." Zoe suddenly says, and y/n just smiles because she's gotten used to hearing that comment. "I think you give him like superhuman powers or something because he's never sprinted as quickly as he did today."

She tries to think back in high school how well he played, and while he wasn't as good as he is now, he's definitely always been a top player. His teammates were always talking about how good a player he is and he received numerous awards and medals for state games and whatnot, so she assumes it can't be just because of her. She wasn't at every high school game and he still managed to get a full ride for college if he played for the soccer team. Hell, he was offered spots at dozens of schools and for some reason he chose the one closest to home.

"He's just really passionate about the game." She offers in reply. Zoe gives her a pointed look but says nothing else on the matter. They finish getting ready in silence, y/n completing her Dalmatian makeup and slipping on black shoes to complete her costume.

"Niall texted," Zoe says, their timing being impeccable. "Harry and him are outside."

Out in the living room stands Jess, Tina, and a few other girls. They're all dressed as Barbie dolls, latex dresses and teased blonde hair with bright lips. Y/n attempts to ignore them, following Zoe towards the front door. She's stopped a few feet from it by Jess.

"You're not going trick or treating right?" Jess asks accusatory, her nose twisted in disgust as if she thinks y/n couldn't actually have anywhere to go on Halloween.

"No, I've got a party to go to actually."

A girl beside Tina pops up at that, a strand of orange hair slipping out from under her fake blonde wig. She quickly tucks it back in. "The Halloween Town party?"

Y/n doesn't know if that's the party at Harry's or not, but he did say it was exclusive to invite only and judging by the girl's desperate look, she wants to get into a party she hadn't been invited to. "Uh I think so. Not sure really."

"Yeah it's that one. And we're part of the costume contest so we have to go." Zoe cuts in, yanking the door open. She steps out onto the pavement, freezing when Niall and Harry are already standing there. Her eyes find Harry's right away, lighting up into a smile at the sight of him. He's got thick brown pants on, the cuffs tucked into thick black boots and suspenders clipped onto them. His chest is bare of a tee-shirt, lean muscles and dark tattoos free for her eyes to roam. A fireman's hat sits on his head, dark curls peeking out from under it.

"You're going with Harry?"

Just noticing his sister lurking behind, Harry's easy grin hardens. Knowing the two of them, Y/n jumps in before Harry can make a smart comment that'll end up pissing everyone off. "Yeah, typically friends do things like going to parties together." She had meant for the comment to be more light-hearted, a bit sarcastic but it clearly didn't come off that way by the growl that leaves Jess.

Y/n nudges Zoe fully out the door, stepping to take her spot next to Harry, and turning back around to face the fuming Barbie in the doorway. "You two aren't friends," Jess denies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Get over yourself Jess." Harry practically barks, the sharpness of his words making even Y/n startle. "We've been friends just as long as you two were. Longer now, actually."

"She's my best friend Harry!"

Not sure how the conversation quickly turned to them talking about her as if she's a ghost, y/n nudges Harry with her paw covered hand. He glances down at her, jaw clenched and eyes dark, nodding gently just once. Zoe and Niall head back towards Harry's car, y/n hooking a finger on his suspenders to guide him away too. He takes a step back, ready to follow, but not before muttering one last heated sentence at his sister. "If she's your best friend, why's she's dressed up with me?"

Maybe Harry's possessiveness over her, the way he wouldn't let her finish her own fight should bother her, but it doesn't. It's different from the way Jess speaks for her, over her. The two siblings have got that in common, one of their few similarities. When it comes to someone they need, they're a bit too sheltering. She's reminded of that as he leads her to the car, pulling open the passenger door and helping her in. He even goes as far as reaching over to buckle her before she can even reach for the seat-belt.

But Jess and Harry are polar opposites, even in their similarities. Her possessiveness comes from her selfishness, the way she only keeps things and people for a personal gain. Like a child that only wants a toy when someone else is interested it. Harry's a bit like a child too, but in a softer way. A little boy holding onto a treasure he's wanted his whole life. He's protective over y/n, almost annoyingly so, but she understands why. She's the toy he's always wanted, the one that was given to Jess only to sit on a shelf unit he came in and treasured it. He's so overbearing sometimes because he doesn't want her stuck in the back anymore.

He's just pulled away from the curb, hands tight on the steering wheel when she leans over to kiss his cheek, not caring that she smears her black nose on his skin. She doesn't wipe it away, nor does she touch-up her makeup. Maybe she's a bit possessive too.

~

Zayn and Asteria end up winning the costume contest, dressed as Batman and Catwoman, which isn't exactly impressive until Zayn had spoke in a gruff, raspy tone and shot a trinket out of his utility belt while Asteria pulled off a very smooth and alluring back flip over the item shot out. While other costumes were certainly more creative, Y/n hands down agrees with them winning. She's not even bothered that her and Harry didn't make it very far in the competition. They're costumes got pretty sloppy after Harry's drunk mind realized he's only surrounded by his friends and people he trusts, and he's had his mouth attached to hers ever since. The outline of her lips and puppy nose are a mess, and his face is stained black around his mouth, but neither of them care.

"Peanut?" She hums, not taking her eyes off the detailing of the pumpkin in front of her. They decided to carve Jack Skellington into theirs, sticking with the theme of Halloween Town, and she wants it to be perfect. "Need to wee."

Giggling as he brushes his mouth over the side of her neck where's he's pulled her hood back, she pauses her meticulously carving of Jack's twisted smile. "Then go babe."

The arm around her waist squeezes, Harry huffing as glances towards the back door. The party moves around them, a few people working on pumpkins of their own at the designated carving station, either too drunk or too happy to be bothered by the cold air. "Will you go with me?"

She giggled again, finding the question funny in her buzzed state but Harry pouts on her shoulder. "You're not drunk enough that you can't go by yourself."

"Know that," he sighs, lowering his voice as he nudges her to look up with a knock of his head on her temple. "don't wanna walk by him by myself."

Y/n doesn't even need him to clarify who he's so hesitant to walk by, because leaning against the house by the door back inside is a clown, particularly Pennywise the clown, who she knows Harry's always been terrified of. He had a yellow raincoat when he was a kid and he used to love playing in the puddles in the street, so after seeing the movie and realizing he could've easily been in the same situation as Georgie, Harry's had an irrational fear of clowns.

A bit sad to leave her pumpkin behind, she pouts down at it's carved face before setting her tools down. "Alright Har, let's go." He takes her right hand, staying pressed against her side as they squish through the crowded back yard. Harry's fingers tighten as they inch closer to the clown and she can feel him hunch over, hiding behind her frame. Y/n has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how cute he is, letting him rush into the house first. She stumbles over the doorway, Harry tugging her by the hand in his haste to get away from the clown.

"That fucker was eyeballing me, I swear it." He reasons, lips brushing her ear now they're in the house where a song about teeth is blasting too loudly. The fog machine in the living room spits out another layer of fog, misting through the fake spider webs and over The Nightmare Before Christmas figurines. Unable to stop herself (not that she really needs to), y/n pecks a kiss to Harry's warm cheek.

"Alright, let's get you to the bathroom before Pennywise comes in."

Together they climb the stairs, Harry wanting to use his own bathroom instead of the packed one in the living room. There's a bit of a fumble with the lock on his door but manage to get it open before Harry can whine about his bladder exploding. It's not until he's in the bathroom, peeing with the door open (a habit he's had since he was a kid), does y/n realize how exhausted she is. It's barely pushing 1am but her buzz and the rowdiness of the party have drained her. Pushing herself off the bed, she kicks off her shoes and flicks the lock on the door just as Harry drags his feet out of the bathroom.

"Don't wanna go back down?"

Harry's already tossed his fireman's hat on the dresser and is struggling with boots when she turns to face him. "M'tired. Wanna get out of my costume." His boot thumps on the carpet and she fumbles with the collar around her neck. The room is void of conversation as they both work on removing their outfits, Harry managing to strip down to his boxers fairly easy. By the time y/n has caught up, folding her costume in just her underwear and a plain bra, Harry's dug out makeup wipes and is sloppily cleaning the lower half of his face.

"Here babe, let me get it." Her words make Harry visibly soften, perching his bum on the edge of the bed and parting his thighs for her to fit between. She takes a clean wipe, ridding him of the black as gentle as possible.

"I used to have dreams of you like this." Harry admits in a whisper when she's finished. He takes a wipe of his own, rubbing off her nose with the softest of touches.

"Taking off my makeup?"

His eyes don't meet hers as he continues. "In my room, calling me babe or something. Were never wearing something like this though," one of his fingers tugs at the strap of her bra. "always in just my shirt. And we whispered like this because everyone was asleep just down the hall."

Y/n's stomach tightens, her whole being swelling with pride at the thought of Harry dreaming about sneaking her into his room. She thought about it too sometimes, when they were snuggled in separate sleeping bags in the living room. He always looks so warm and soft when he sleeps that she'd often imagine curling up next to him, nose buried in the curls on top of his head and sleeping for eons. "Yeah?"

Harry nods, lips beginning to curl up the slightest bit. "Yeah. Sometimes you'd just climb into bed with me, let me hold you until the morning when we had to sneak back downstairs." With a tender kiss to her forehead, Harry tosses the dirty makeup wipes into the trash by the bed. His grin twists into a smirk, drunken eyes shining with mischief. "Other times you'd climb into my lap..." he trails off, moving to climb onto the bed. Taking her hand in his, Harry pulls her up the mattress until he's sat against the headboard with her perched over his thighs. "just like this. We'd kiss for ages, until I felt like I was going to suffocate from having my mouth on yours."

Harry's hands ghost up her bare thighs, palms warm and soft. She shivers at the touch, scooting further up his legs until the bulge in his boxers is pressed against her heat. A low groan rumbles through his chest, nostrils flaring as he drops his lips to the top of her breasts. "I had dreams about you too. Always slept better on those nights." She whispers back, raking her fingers through his hair while his warm breath raises goosebumps on her skin.

"Did ya have dirty dreams?" Harry murmurs cheekily, words raspy with need. After weeks of fooling around with him, learning the spots that make him tremble, the noises that make him twitch, the rhythm that makes him cum, she also knows Harry loves to talk during moments like this.

"Of course I did." Y/n giggles breathlessly, sighing contently when he brings a hand to her back and unclasps her bra. "How couldn't I when you look like this?"

Harry tilts his head back up to meet her gaze, cheeks pink and lips wet with his own saliva. His smirk practically falls off the edges of his face. Nimble fingers peel off her bra, tossing it somewhere in the room. "You were my first wet dream too." Harry coos and she's utterly baffled at how he can make even that seem romantic.

"Dreamed about having you since I was finally able to understand what it meant to actually want you." He continues, one arm locking around her waist to bring her closer while the other cradles the side of her face. "Which is why I don't want our first time to be on Halloween after we've had drinks. Want to remember everything, feel everything when I finally get to have you."

Heat crawls up her chest and neck, heart swelling at his words. They've yet to have a real discussion about sex, only going as far as utilizing their hands and mouths, and knowing that going all the way is as big a deal to Harry as is it her makes her actually want to kiss him until he suffocates. "Me too."

Nudging his nose into her cheek, Harry connects their mouths for a kiss. Monster Mash plays for the umpteenth time below them and the cackle of a witch comes from the decorations outside the house, and yet y/n thinks she might be falling in love with Harry Styles.

[prettyboyreid]

can you read to me? (I)

part two

Even after a silly fight, the reader can’t seem to go to sleep without Matthew next to her.

College!Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 2,884

It had been four hours.  Four, gruesome, long, tiring hours since you first opened the Statistics book to study for your final.  While you were almost sure you were going to pass, an anxious feeling still overwhelmed you  that you weren’t going to.  It made you feel sick.

You picked up your phone and checked the time.  1:54 AM.  You let out a soft groan, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands before deciding to pack everything up for the night.  You closed all of your books, bookmarked your notes on Google Docs, and made sure all of your pens were closed before pushing yourself out of the uncomfortable chair New York University provided for each dorm.  You made your way to the bed covered in a heavy duvet and a weighted blanket before trying to let yourself fall asleep.  

You closed your eyes, you cuddled up to one of your pillows, and even tried counting backwards from one hundred.

Yet you were still wide awake. 

You checked the time again out of frustration as you felt your mind running a mile a minute, letting out a huff as the neon red letters of your alarm clock read 2:28.  You chewed on the inside of your cheek as a thought - a terrible one at that - ran through your mind, grabbing your phone and slipping on a pair of socks before scurrying out of the quiet dorm. 

The dorm halls seemed to stretch out much longer than you’d like, feeling like you were walking down a highway for hours.  You could’ve been convinced easily you walked the entire length of the campus. 

But eventually, you reached a room on the other end of the hall.  A banal door with nothing but the numbers 628 printed on them.  It seemed foreign to you, like you had lost all memory of the dorm since you last stepped into it two weeks ago.

“Jesus Christ, Matthew, I was studying with him!  Jack’s top of the class and I needed some help!” you whisper-shouted at him.  His roommate, thankfully, went home for the weekend, but you didn’t want to risk any of his neighbors waking up at the ungodly hour of three in the morning. 

“It is a big deal whenever he’s practically pulling you into his lap, Y/N,” he said, his hands running back through his messy curls.  You could tell he hadn’t showered or styled his hair that day from how messy it was, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t one of your favorite looks on him.

You huffed in annoyance and folded your arms across your chest, sitting on his bed as you listened to him voice his grievances.  “Do you not trust me enough to even study with a friend?  How many times do I have to remind you that I love you? Not him, not anyone else, only you,” you preached to him, but given your tone of voice, you could see on his face that he didn’t believe you.  He probably thought you saying it sounded more like a chore than a feeling. 

“Besides, you didn’t see me getting all pissed off when you hung out with Lydia at that party last week.  She was practically hanging off of you, and I never said a thing,” you reminded him, which just earned you an eye roll from the tall boy as he leaned against his desk, his palm pressed into the cheap wood.

“That was different.  She was drunk and I didn’t want her to fall over or have some guy she doesn’t know take her home,” he defended himself, watching his carotid pulse in his forehead as he tried to keep his voice down.  You scoffed at his excuses, raising your eyebrows slightly as if to ask if he had anything else to say.

“She literally ogles you every time you walk past her!  She told her friends that she couldn’t wait for you to break up with me so she could have her turn!”

“She was drunk and she’s been my friend since freshman year, Y/N!  People say things they don’t mean when they’re drunk,” he groaned, holding his hands behind his neck as he let out a heavy sigh.  You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he carefully picked out his next sentences word by word. 

“This isn’t about me, it’s about that jackass who keeps trying to hit on you when I’m not around,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as he paced in front of you.  You watched as his bones pressed against his skin out of anger, painting his knuckles white as they gripped onto his upper arms.  “How do you think I felt when my friends texted me to tell me you were out with him instead of you telling me?” he asked, his voice dropping from angry to hurt.  

“I only didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak!  Just like you are right now!” you exclaimed, standing up from your place on the bed.  “And I don’t know how you felt, because I’m not you.  But I can tell you how I felt when your ‘best friend since freshman year’ was clinging off of you like her life depended on it, and you can tell me how close I am,” you remarked, standing in front of him as if to challenge him.  If it weren’t for your significant height difference, you probably wouldn’t feel so inferior at that moment. 

He let out a huff and sat back on the bed where you were moments before, letting his hands sink into the firm mattress behind him.  His expressions dropped to something unreadable.  “So tell me then.”

You let your eyebrows knit together, your arms still folded across your chest as you barely looked down at him.  “I felt like she was going to drag you off to some trashy room of the frat house and sleep with you, and you’d forget who I was for fifteen minutes.  I felt like you were more interested in her than me, and that I wasn’t enough for you right then,” you spoke honestly, not letting your emotions affect your facial expressions.  You couldn’t seem weak, not right now. 

You could tell he was holding back on a scoff or an eye roll, but you decided to let it go for now and just let him talk.  “You know I’d never sleep with her, Y/N,” he said firmly.  You couldn’t even hold back your own eye roll, picking your jacket up from the hook by his door, slightly annoyed that that was the part he had picked to remark on. 

“I’d never sleep with Jack, either,” you said, watching him quickly scramble up from his seat the second he realized I was about to leave. 

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/N-” he started, but the longer you watched and waited for him to finish whatever thought he had, the more you realized he didn’t have anything to say.  He just wanted you to stay. 

You wished that you could.

“Matthew, I can’t stay around with you if you can’t trust me the way I trust you,” you told him.  You made your way to the door, opening it before leaving and slamming it behind you.

For a split second, you saw his face.  His beautiful, pained face, tears pooling in his bright hazel eyes.

 And it broke your heart. 

You knocked softly in a pattern Matthew had taught you, Morse code for “EAP.”  He wanted to have a secret code for just the two of you so he knew whether or not to answer the door, so he settled on the abbreviation for one of his favorite authors in the world - Edgar Allan Poe. 

You could see the light from his room seeping beneath the crack at the bottom of the door, and you hoped it was him and not his roommate.  After a few minutes of silence, you knocked in the distinct pattern again, running a hand back through your slightly knotted hair as you waited patiently.  

You heard the soft pitter-patter of large socked feet of the hardwood flooring coming from the room, and then the unlocking of the heavy locks that were newly installed in the dorms last year.  You let out a soft sigh as the door opened for you, taking in the sight you’ve missed for two weeks - for fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours. 

Matthew didn’t look great.  Far from it, if you were being honest with yourself.  You wanted to believe it was because of the stress of finals, but you knew that it probably wasn’t true.  His eyes that were normally accompanied by dark circles were worse than normal, the beautiful brown color you loved glazed over and dull.  His hair was messy and unkempt, and despite being over six feet tall, he seemed shrunken into himself, smaller than someone of his stature would be.  You highly doubted that he had gotten much sleep, knowing how hard and personal he usually took these matters.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing he asked.  He didn��t scold you for knocking on his door in the middle of the night. He didn’t spit at you and tell you to leave him alone or go fuck yourself and the smart kid one floor up.  He wanted to make sure you were alright.  

It gave you a warm feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt since you slammed this same boring door in his face.

“I… I, uh, can’t sleep,” you mustered out, your words slightly slurred from the lack of sleep you’d gotten the past few days.  You wound the hem of your loose t-shirt around your fingers, waiting for some sort of response from him before he opened his door just a bit more to allow you in. 

“What do you need me to do?”  he asked, closing the door behind you once you were inside.  You couldn’t help but notice his roommate’s side was cleared out, so it was just the two of you in the cold, surprisingly clean room.  You let out a soft sigh of relief, grateful that he had packed up and left sometime before now.  Selfishly, you just wanted him all to yourself right now.

“Can you read to me?” you asked in a hushed voice, chewing on the inside of your cheek.  

Matthew had the best reading voice.  You assumed it was from all of his years in theater, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he had practiced elaborating on voices in his spare time.  Every time you spent the night in his room or he spent the night in yours, he would tell you a story to help you fall asleep.  Most of the time, he made the stories up on the fly, and they could be so ridiculous that you laughed too much to get any sleep.  But your favorite times were when he recited Edgar Allan Poe stories to you.  He tried to make them sound spooky and scary, but his voice was so soothing that it lulled you to sleep every single time. 

“I know it’s probably weird to ask that of you right now, and it might be really awkward too. I can just head back-”

He cut me off with a silent nod, getting into his bed and turning off the lamp before patting the space beside him.  

You were hesitant at first, despite it being the entire reason you came down here, before crawling in next to him.  His arms immediately went around you, his touch being as light as a feather since he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.  When you rested your head on his chest and held him tightly, he let his grip tighten around you in a more protective manner.

“What do you wanna hear, angel?” he asked softly, his voice faltering at the nickname like he had just swore in front of his parents.  

The last thing he wanted to do was make you uneasy, and despite you coming to his room in the middle of the night and cuddling up to him like you were about to lose him at sea, he didn’t want to do anything to make you leave. 

He couldn’t let himself make that mistake again. 

“Can you read me Annabel Lee?” you asked quietly, barely above a whisper.  He leaned his head back against the bed frame, letting out a soft sigh as he nodded.  You heard him take a quiet, deep breath before he slowly began. 

“It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me…”

 His voice was slow and steady, dramatizing each word when necessary while keeping the same pace and tone.  His voice was melodic, and had almost put you to sleep as you listened.  You relished in the trace-like state his voice drew you to, your grip instinctively tightening around him to keep him close.

 “I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

 “And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.”

You looked up at him carefully, trying not to disturb him as best as possible so he didn’t lose his place.  Despite him having the story memorized by heart, he seemed to frequently get distracted too easily.  You noticed that he was focused on something in the corner, and you couldn’t quite tell what it was.  You let your head fall back to his chest, your hand resting just beneath the hem of his gray t-shirt as he continued.

 “The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

 “But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;”

  Your gaze finally adjusted to the dark room as you found what he was looking at finally; it was a framed picture of the two of you, one you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.  You were kissing his cheek and he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, similar to how you were right now, wearing a smile brighter than any star you’ve ever seen.  Someone else had taken it, on the steps of the main NYU building.  It looked like your last day of junior year, before you spent the summer with him in Vegas.  

That was, without a doubt, one of the best times of your life.

 For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

  You felt your heart shatter all over again as you heard his voice begin to break at the final stanza, feeling one single drop fall onto your hand that rested high on his chest.  

You both pretended that you didn’t notice it.  

You let your eyes flutter shut, replaying the sound of his voice in your head over and over again as it lulled you to sleep.  

As you felt yourself finally overcome with relaxation and drowsiness, you let your eyes squeeze shut tightly as he pulled the blankets over you, making sure you had just enough to be comfortable but not too many to be hot.  

You couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of your heart swelling in your chest at how much he cared to make you comfortable.  You felt his soft, plump lips press to your head moments before your well-deserved rest overcame you, hearing one last thing from the voice so soft and sweet that lulled you to sleep countless times before.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, sniffling as quietly as possible to do his best not to wake you.  You wanted to say something to him, but you could barely even keep your eyes open.  Just before you felt yourself slip into the abyss of slumber, you heard him whisper something - mostly for himself, but you knew exactly who it was meant for.

“Please don’t leave me.”

[is-it-art-tho]

Summary: A mission gone awry, too many memories, too much blood, and not enough time. Bruce races to save a son he couldn't save before.

Prologue, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8 

Bruce groaned into the towel clenched between his teeth as Alfred fished the bullet from his thigh. His gear had kept it from burrowing in very deep, but every shift of the tweezers still sent jolts of pain through his body.

“I do wish you’d reconsider the anesthetic, sir,” Alfred sighed.

Bruce was beginning to feel the same way, but it was pride now, more than anything else, that kept him from conceding. “You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

In answer, Alfred produced the deformed bullet, and held it to the light before dropping it into Bruce’s waiting hand. He turned the blood-slicked metal around in his fingers as Alfred prepped the suture kit. “I’m always shocked by how small these can be.”

“And yet so destructive.”

“Hm.” He tipped the bullet into a metal tray on the counter with a tiny clank. “Did Jason leave?”

“I believe he said he was going to bed.”

Bruce didn’t remember that at all. He must have been more out of it than he’d thought—it had taken longer than he would have liked to get back to the cave, and in the interim he’d lost a notable amount of blood. “Hey!” he yelped at the sudden prick in his leg.

“I’m saving you from your own ego,” Alfred answered, setting aside a now empty syringe with a quick raise of an eyebrow as if daring Bruce to object further. “We’ll give it a few minutes to kick in before I start on the sutures.”

Upstairs, Bruce found Jason’s room locked. He’d hoped to have a chance to say goodnight, to show Jason that he was alright, but as he lifted his hand to knock, the light under the door went out. Taking the hint, Bruce resigned himself to check in some other time.

The problem was, that chance never came.

For the rest of the week, Bruce didn’t see Jason at all. At times he’d catch a door just swinging shut, or the patter of retreating feet, but nothing more. It was like living with a ghost—a very young, very elusive ghost.

“He’s avoiding me,” he said at last one day, lowering himself stiffly into a plush seat in the den while Alfred positioned an ottoman for him to prop up his leg.

“Yes.”

“You know?”

Pulling a rag from an inner pocket, Alfred nodded. “I do.”

“And you know why.”

“Of course.”

Bruce squinted at the back of the older man’s head as he started dusting the mantel. “But you’re not going to tell me.”

“I believe it’s the sort of discussion best had face to face.”

“I would tend to agree” Bruce allowed, adjusting his weight carefully so that his leg remained still, “except that he hasn’t exactly given me that opportunity.”

“You’re a smart boy. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

And Bruce did just that. It took him all of one afternoon to realize that Jason had so easily evaded him these past few days for the same reason that Bruce had been able to maneuver around the manor at all right now—his crutch.

The plastic click as it hit the floor was like the pop of a firecracker in a home that was so often silent, and it announced Bruce’s approach long before he entered a space, giving Jason plenty of time to beat a hasty retreat.

So that evening after Bruce finished his last conference call, he closed his laptop, rose from his desk in the study, stretched, and proceeded to hobble out of the room with his crutch still propped against his chair.

His steps were still louder than usual, the limp adding a certain uneven heaviness to his stride, but in his socked feet he still managed to drift almost soundlessly from one room to the next, aided at intervals by the occasional rug.

Even so, it was not until night had fallen and the sconces in the halls had transitioned to the dim orange glow meant to imitate firelight, that Bruce had any luck. It came in the form of tiny murmur emanating from Dick’s old room, of all places.

Bruce sidled up to the cracked door and leaned against the doorframe, partially to take the weight off his bad leg, and partially because he wanted to keep listening.

It sounded like Jason was reading. Bruce had known for some time that the boy liked to read—he’d stumbled in on Jason reading aloud to himself once before—but Bruce still hadn’t managed to get Jason comfortable enough to read out loud while he was around. Even after growing so close over their past year together, there were still some walls that Bruce hadn’t quite managed to scale.

He stood like that for some time, just listening, aware that this could be read as a form of intrusion but too caught in the simple beauty of the moment to care. He loved how calm Jason’s little voice was, how earnest and unhurried. He sounded so utterly himself, devoid of any other pretense. It was only when Bruce heard the quiet thump of the book closing that he steeled himself and gently pushed open the door.

He couldn’t, in all honesty, remember the last time he’d set foot in this room, and doing so now would have been jarring enough on its own without having a dark-haired boy sitting cross legged on the bed. It was like stepping into a time machine, and for one wild moment Bruce felt his breath catch before managing to say, “Found you.”

Jason was rigid, eyes flicking from the door to the window like a caged animal before screwing his face into a scowl. “I wasn’t hiding.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Bruce braced a hand against a nearby dresser to take some of the weight off his leg. Despite not having an occupant for the better part of six years, the surface was spotless. “What are you doing in here?”

“You said I could go wherever I wanted,” he snapped, like he was daring Bruce to go back on his word.

It was something of an exaggeration, to be fair. During Jason’s first week with at the manor, Bruce had made a point to establish that this was Jason’s home as much as it was his or Alfred’s—that he should feel comfortable exploring and making it his own. It had taken a while for the kid to take that to heart—he more or less lived out of a backpack the first few months—but after a while he’d managed to settle in. It stung to see some of that old anxiety creeping back in now.

“I’m not saying you can’t be in here,” Bruce clarified. “Just curious why you chose this room in particular when yours is thirty feet away.”

Jason squirmed, staring down at his lap and gnawing on the inside of his lip. It wasn’t until the first gentle plip of a tear hitting the book in his hands that Bruce noticed that he’d begun to cry.

“Hey—” he began, wishing that he had pressed Alfred more for information, or at least a hint as to what he was walking into. He took a step forward, only to suck in a quick breath when pain exploded up his leg and his knee buckled. It was pure luck that he managed to catch himself on the bed before falling to the floor.

And with a choked grunt, Bruce heaved himself into a seated position and exhaled heavily, swallowing the string of curses he wanted to unleash. He looked up again only when he heard the broken, “I’m sorry.”

Jason’s face was beet red now, his bottom lip quivering. “I’m—I didn’t mean for you to…”

“Jay, what’s wrong?”

“Y-you got shot and it’s all m-my…” He sobbed instead of finishing the sentence.

Bruce reached for him but let his hand fall to the bed when Jason pulled his legs in toward his chest.

“If I hadn’t messed up you wouldn’t’ve had to…” His took a shaky breath. “Why’d you do that anyway?” And though Jason was still crying, there was a sudden confused rage there now, like he was a cauldron of emotions all bubbling to the surface at once. “That was so—you didn’t even—I don’t…”

And he was sobbing again even though he looked like he was trying his damnedest to fight it. Bruce gazed at him, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and hug him the way Alfred used to do with him when he was young—the way Bruce had learned to do with Dick.

But he decided against it. And instead waited. After a few moments, the young boy brought himself back to something resembling a state of calm. His shoulders bobbed with several deep, deliberate breaths, and at last he looked Bruce head on again, lashes dark with tears, cheeks bright red.

“Talk to me, bud.”

“Are you…gonna make me leave?” he asked quietly.

And whatever Bruce might have been expecting to come next, this certainly had not been it. “Why would I do that?”

“Because look what happened!”

“You did not shoot me, Jason.”

The boy cringed, perhaps at Bruce’s choice of words. “But you only got shot because of me.”

“I got shot because a criminal with a gun shot me.”

“Will you just stop,” he begged, dropping his head into his hands. “You know what I mean.”

“Fine. Then you’re right. If you hadn’t been there, it’s possible I wouldn’t have been shot.”

The blood drained from Jason’s face at that. So much so he looked almost like he was going to be ill. But he simply nodded at his lap, like a man accepting his fate at the gallows.

“But,” Bruce continued, “you were there, and you made a mistake, and thankfully I was there so that nothing worse happened as a result. Look at me,” he said, and Jason dragged his gaze back up.

“Mistakes happen. We learn from them; we move on. Simple as that. I don’t blame you for this, and even if I did, I’d never kick you out. I meant it when I said this is your home. For as long as you want it to be.”

Tears were spilling down Jason’s cheeks again, but this time they seemed at least a little less desperate, less anguished. Even so, he threw himself across the bed and slammed into Bruce.

“I’m still sorry! I’m so so sorry!” he cried into Bruce’s chest, skinny arms forming a vice around the man’s neck.

Bruce let out the pained breath that had hitched in his throat at the sudden blow, and gingerly returned the hug, careful not to make Jason feel trapped in it. “Don’t be. I’d do it again in a second.”

Jason lifted his face to peer up into Bruce’s. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what you do for people you love.”

Jason froze, then scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes before murmuring, “Oh. Um, okay.”

Ruffling the boy’s hair, Bruce noted, “We should get to bed,” then he hesitated, his stomach clenching as he realized that that would mean standing and walking all the way to the other end of the hall. After all the strain he’d put on his leg today, the thought alone made him ache.

“Why don’t we just stay here tonight?” Jason suggested, leaving Bruce to wonder if his reluctance had really been that evident.

“‘We?’”

“Yeah. I'll stay too. The boy had already scrambled back onto the bed and was kicking the blankets down to squirm underneath. " Y’know, in case you need help getting to the bathroom or something.”

Bruce grinned and gingerly climbed up next to him.

Once they were both settled, Jason reached for the lamp and paused. “I um…I love you too. I guess. Goodnight.”

He flicked the switch quickly, plunging the room into darkness before Bruce had a chance to react. So instead, the man simply hooked an arm around Jason's tiny frame and pulled him into his chest, smiling to himself when he felt the boy snuggle in a little closer.

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

[meliakim]

Christmas Manito

Min and Mun join the boys for the Korean version of secret Santa.

“Wowww, Mun-ah!! I can’t believe you were able to cook this much food in one day!” Hobi said to Mun as he entered the dorm kitchen and looked all around at the baked goodies and snacks. “Well, it wasn’t just me though, I had help,” she said, eyeing Seokjin who was taking out his puff pastries from the oven… one of the things that she taught him to bake during one of their many cooking sessions. “Mun-ah!!! They’re perfectly baked this time!” he said excitedly, tilting the pan over towards Mun to show her. “See? I knew you’d get them mastered,” she said reassuringly with a huge smile on her face.

“Aish, they’re too cute,” Hobi said under his breath as he turned to leave the kitchen, though it was just loud enough for Mun to hear. A few seconds later, Taehyung roamed into the kitchen to have a look as well. “Tae! Come help me finish decorating the cookies,” she said to her fellow artsy friend. He went over to her and peered over her shoulder, seeing sugar cookies shaped like stockings, Christmas trees, and snowmen. “They’re so festive!” he said, taking the green icing that was being handed to him by Mun. “Are Min and Jimin back yet?” she asked him. He nodded and said, “they just got back with the pizza a bit ago.”

“The whole dorm smells so sweet!!” Jimin said as he placed the pizzas on the side table set up in the living room table. Min nodded in agreement and said, “they must be baking up a storm in there!” “I hope they’re almost done though, I’m so hungry!!” Jungkook said, laying on the couch. Namjoon and Yoongi both appeared from their rooms and put their gifts under the Christmas tree just as the three chefs came out of the kitchen with all the baked goodies. They put them on the table next to the pizza, causing Hobi to say “WoW!” and pull out his phone to take pictures.

All seven members and their two friends fixed their plates and began eating, sitting on the couches and on the floor… wherever they could find space. “Ok, so who is going to start the manito game?” Jimin asked, eagerly, wanting to know who his manito was. “Let’s use rock, paper, scissors to decide!” Namjoon said. They proceeded to do so, and Mun won, making her the first to give her gift to the person whose name she drew. She got up from her seat in between Seokjin and Tae on the couch and pulled her colorfully wrapped gift from under the tree.

She walked over towards Jimin and acted like she was going to give it to him before turning around last-second and giving it to Jungkook. Jimin pouted and the whole room was full of laughter. “Merry Christmas, Jungkookie!” Mun said before sitting back down. He bowed his head in gratitude and opened his present. It was a small travel art kit with a sketchbook, pens, and pencils. “Since you’re about to travel the world, I thought sketching would be a good way for you to document your trip!” Mun said as Jungkook looked at his gift admiringly. “JK JK it’s your turn!!” Jimin said.

Jungkook got up from his seat and pulled out his gift from the tree. Like Mun, he acted like he was going to give it to Jimin before handing it to Min who was sitting right next to him. Min smiled and said, “thank you, JK!” She opened up the perfectly wrapped gift and tried not to freak out of excitement. It was a nice pair of Bluetooth headphones that she had talked to him about a while ago when doing his makeup. “You’re always listening to music during our makeup sessions… and your old headphones were falling apart,” he said with a chuckle.

Min was next, and she followed suit by getting up and pulling her gift from under the tree. Of course, she couldn’t help but tease Jimin, causing him to pout and fall out of his chair while everyone else laughed. She handed her gift to Namjoon, saying “Merry Christmas, Joon!!” as she did so. It was rather heavy, so he sat it on his lap and ripped the paper off it. Min had been telling Namjoon to read the Lord of the Rings for months now, since he enjoyed the movies… so that’s exactly what she got him, knowing how much he loved reading. “Wow, Min!!! This is too much!! Thank you, manito!!” he said, bowing gratefully with a big smile as she sat back down.

After pretending to give Jimin the gift, Namjoon proceeded to give his gift to Yoongi, who was sitting next to Seokjin. He pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and broke down laughing, along with Seokjin, who had peered into his bag too. “Oh?? What is it?” Hobi asked curiously. “It’s underwear, I’m not pulling it out,” he said with a pink face, knowing that there were two ladies present. “Namjoon-ah! How did you even know his size?” Seokjin asked, still dying from laughter. “We wear the same size!” he said, causing everyone to laugh even louder. “So practical!” Hobi commented.

Yoongi got up to get his gift, causing Jimin to sit up taller in his seat… only for Yoongi to go back straight to his seat, handing the bag to Seokjin beside him. “Aish!! Yoongi-ah!! What kind of gift is this?!” Seokjin whined, pulling out a large stand-up photo of Suga, a Suga fan, a pair of Shooky socks, and other forms of Suga merch. “I thought you could put my photo on your desk so you can see me while you game,” Yoongi said with a smirk. “Aish!! Yoongi-ah!! So conceited!” Seokjin said, dramatically, causing everyone to laugh.

He got up and brought his gift straight to Taehyung, causing Jimin to roll his eyes restlessly, wondering if he would ever get a gift. Tae took the tissue paper out of the bag and first pulled out an iPhone case with RJ on it, then a Jin photocard, RJ keychain, and a Jin poster. “Hyung!! This is as bad as Yoongi-hyung!!” Tae laughed as he pulled out each item and showed everyone. Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh filled the room as Yoongi playfully slapped his roommate’s arm. “So conceited, huh??” he playfully whined. “Wait, no it’s worse!” Tae said, taking a closer look at the RJ phone case. “I don’t even have an iPhone!” he said.

Through his tears of laughter, Hobi looked at the phone case and said, “oh!! Mun-ah has an iPhone XR, right? This would fit her phone!!” Everyone looked at Seokjin as his laughter shifted from windshield wiper to a nervous laughter, his ears turning bright red. Tae’s boxy smile got even wider as he shook his head and put everything back in the gift bag, passing it over to Mun sitting next to him, as the gift was obviously geared towards her.

Tae’s turn started with him getting his present, and… finally, giving it to Jimin, who was still eagerly waiting. “Ahhh, finally!!” he said, opening the gift. It was a small dumpling-shaped plushie with Tae and Jimin’s initials stitched onto it. “I thought it would be a good reminder for us to not fight,” Tae said with a smile. Jimin jumped out of his seat and hugged his friend before he could sit back down. “Let’s not fight again!!” he vowed, going over to the tree and getting his gift while he was up, handing it to Hobi. “Jimin-ssi!!! This is too cool,” Hobi said, pulling a polaroid camera, film, and photo book out of the bag excitedly.

“Ok, ok, last but not least!” Hobi said in a sing-song voice, taking the last present under the tree and handing it to Mun. She received it gratefully and opened the package to reveal a purple apron with a subtle BTS logo on the front. She stood up and put it on immediately, then recognized that there was handwriting all over the inside. She took it back off and read the notes, seeing that each of the members had written something to her. “Hobi!! This is so great,” she said, trying not to get caught up and take the time to read all the notes just yet.

“It’s for you to wear at work!! Even though we’ll be on tour, you can always have us with you and think about us during the day!” he said, smiling at Mun. She dropped to her knees to meet Hobi on the floor and pulled him into a tight hug, nearly knocking him over. “It’s so perfect… thank you,” she said, still holding onto him. Seokjin joined them on the floor, wrapping his arms around Mun, then was followed by Tae, Jungkook, Min, and all the others, so that everyone was piled on top of each other in a group hug on the floor. “Merry Christmas, everyone!!” everyone said to each other, just so happy to be together.

[bucketofcowboys]

2 Idiots At 2 AM

Thank you to RachelSnow on AO3 for beta reading this fic for me! I really appreciate it!

Relationship: Kazuma Kiryu & Akira Nishikiyama (NOT SHIP)

Warning: Underage Smoking, Smoking, a lil bit of angst, no spoilers for the games tho

Words: 2,044

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684367

--------

Everything felt hazy, and the first thing Kiryu realized was that someone was holding his hand. The second thing he realized was that the hand was guiding him forwards, and his legs went with it like it was the natural flow of things. He didn't know who it was, nor did he know where he was going, all he knew was that for some reason he was completely at peace with it. He felt lax, like he was floating atop calm waters. It lapped at his skin in tranquil waves.

When he finally raised his head up to meet the gaze of the person that was holding his hand, he realized that they had no features. Instead they were smudged, like the scribbles of a pencil streaked against paper. Even with the terrifying lack of a face, he proceeded like nothing was out of place. Though he could not properly get a look at her, for some reason naturally in his mind, he identified the person guiding him as his mother. Her hands were soft and warm. Her voice was gentle, though he couldn't process what she was saying.

They approached a building that looked very familiar to him. It almost looked like Sunflower, but the signs were gone and it looked empty. He mindlessly labeled it as 'home'. He felt like he had lived there for years with his mom, though he couldn't pinpoint any specific memories that proved it. In front of the building stood another person with the same smudged looking face as her. He identified him as father. He smiled as they stepped in front of him. He had no face, so there was no way he could actually smile, but Kiryu felt it. He felt him smile at them, all cordial and bright and sunny.

"Kazuma!" Kiryu heard someone shout, and in an instant that warm calm feeling shattered like sheets of ice against the pavement. He turned around and he saw Nishiki on the ground. He was crying, broken. Knees torn open in great gashes. He turned back towards his parents, wanting to ask for help, but they were gone. Dissipated like dust in the wind.

"Kazuma! Wake up!" He opened his eyes and found himself laying on the wooden floor of he and Nishiki's shared room. He pulled his pressure numb arm out from under him, which he had been using as a pillow, and blinked a few times as he regained consciousness. Nishiki was squatting above him, flicking his forehead. They both were in the doorway of their room, and Kiryu had no idea how either of them got there. 

"Stop it!" He swatted the hand away from his face and pushed himself to sit up, "What happened?" He was still phased out of reality after that dream. Dreams about his parents always made him feel a bit disconnected once he woke up. Nishiki rolled his eyes.

"You fell asleep when I told you to be on the lookout for me, you dumbass." Nishiki flicked his head once more, and Kiryu groaned in disapproval. 

"They didn't catch you though, so I did my job." Kiryu pointed out, "Did you get it?" 

Nishiki rolled his eyes as if he was annoyed by his lack of confidence in him. 

"Yeah, of course I did." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of hi-lights. He popped open the top to show off the fact that it still had a few cigs in it. Kiryu raised his eyebrows, impressed. 

"Well give me one--" Kiryu impatiently grabbed at the package, and Nishiki immediately pulled back and held the cigarettes up and as far away as he could from him. Kiryu was taller, and could easily reach over him and grab them if he wanted to, but he didn't. He just sat there pouting. 

"Are you stupid? We can't smoke in here! What about my sister, dumbass!" He went to knock Kiryu on his head, but he quickly blocked it with his arm and threw Nishiki off of him. "We gotta smoke outside."

Kiryu shivered at the idea. It had been freezing the past few days, and he doubted just because two rebellious teens wanted to smoke that the temperature would magically spike up. But, Nishiki was right. Yuko definitely wouldn't fare well if she inhaled a bunch of smoke in her sleep, and smoking inside the building was banned anyways. If they smoked in there he was sure everyone would recognize the smell and they'd be in big trouble. He sighed, and got up to grab his jacket.

Once he arrived back at the doorway, Nishiki was already tiptoeing his way down the hall. Kiryu quickly made his way to follow, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could manage. If someone woke up and saw their door wide open, they were sure to become suspicious. He cautiously avoided the especially squeaky floor boards as he walked down the corridor, passing by Yumi and Yuko's own room with a flinch. If either of them found out what they were sneaking out to do they'd probably kill him and Nishiki. 

They finally entered the main area, and peered around the corner of the wall before they even attempted to get close to the front door. Scanning the darkened room, they saw no one occupying it. The usually full and bustling orphanage was disturbingly quiet during the night, many of the younger kids in a dead sleep after hours of play, the older ones confined in their rooms doing homework with only a flimsy book light to keep them company. He chased after Nishiki as he dashed towards the door, almost falling as his socks slid on the slick hardwood. Nishiki flipped the lock on the brass knob and it gave a click of approval, then he opened the door, as slowly as he possibly could to prevent any creaking.

Cool air rushed in and brushed past the both of them, causing a conjoined shiver. Kiryu tugged his jacket on tighter and regretted not putting anything over his tank top before deciding to do this. Eventually the door slid open to where the both of them could squeeze their body through, and then they spent a good couple minutes slowly closing it just in case. Outside, little flakes of snow had begun to fall from the dark gray sky. Under the cover of the night and winter, the white specks could be ash from a volcano and neither of them would notice a thing. Cool winds blew past, and the only things that illuminated their faces were the half moon in the sky, and the nearby porch light that lit up the wooden Sunflower sign. 

Nishiki quickly made his way to hide over at the side of the building, thinking they were less likely to be caught if they weren't directly in the front. Once they were under cover, they squatted down against the siding and Nishiki pulled out the pack of cigs again. He opened it and pulled out two of the white sticks and handed one to Kiryu while keeping the other for himself. Kiryu eyed at the object for a second, quickly realizing that the side with the blue lines was the side you were meant to smoke from, judging by the white foam filter he could see. The other side was jammed packed with dried tobacco. He sniffed at the odd end and flinched at the offending smell. 

"Shit, did you grab something to light it with?" Kiryu said when he finally realized that they had no way to actually smoke them. Nishiki waved him off. Kiryu noticed that he had already placed the cigarette between his lips, and he copied him. 

"Yeah of course, I'm not stupid." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a suspiciously familiar lighter. 

"Wait... that's-- Akira! Kazama-san’s already going to be pissed off when he finds that his smokes are missing, but you stole his lighter too?!" Nishiki shrugged, already flicking his thumb against the gear to try and light it. 

"Everyone else lights his cigarettes for him, he won't notice." He finally got the thing to spark hard enough that it lit, and he quickly moved the flame over to the tip of his cigarette. Kiryu watched as the fire slowly caught on the paper, and smoke began to plume at the end. He then reached over and brought the lighter closer to Kiryu. He leaned forwards and aimed the tip at the flame. He went cross eyed trying to get a glimpse of it as it lit up.

Nishiki shoved the lighter back into his pocket and took his first smooth drag from his cig, so Kiryu tried to follow suit. When he huffed the smoke in, he immediately began to choke. The taste was downright offensive, and his throat and lungs burned furiously. After trying to stifle his cough, he looked back up and saw that Nishiki seemed totally unaffected and blew his puff out with no problem. He furrowed his brows. 

"Have you done this before?" Kiryu asked, still gasping. 

"What? No!" Nishiki held the cigarette between his index and middle finger and gestured with it with mock experience, "I'm just cooler than you Kazuma." He added smugly. He took another drag, and this time Kiryu took notice that he had to stifle a cough. He smirked, but didn't point it out. 

They sat there for a while, quietly nursing their cigarettes, stifling coughs and chokes and accidently burning their nostrils as they let the smoke go through the wrong pipes. Their hearts pounded heavy in their chests and adrenaline pumped through their veins, knowing what they were doing was against so many rules and if they were caught they probably wouldn't be allowed outside of the orphanage for a week. But that was the appeal of it, wasn't it? The thrill.

As Kiryu kept smoking, a feeling of nausea fell over him. People always talked about how cigarettes were calming, and he thought that the more and more he inhaled the more relaxed he would get. Instead it was the opposite. He felt sick to his stomach and everything burned. He had no idea why adults smoked so often. All it seemed to do was hurt. He couldn't even finish his cigarette before he stubbed it out on the ground. 

"What's wrong?" Nishiki asked, Kiryu looked up at him pale faced and big eyed. 

"I feel sick, ototo-kun." He said honestly. He felt like he was going to throw up. Nishiki gave him a look of concern. 

"You wanna go inside?" Kiryu quickly nodded. Nishiki stubbed his cigarette on the side of the building and left a petty burn mark against the siding, a reminder of what they did here, then grabbed Kiryu and led him by the arm back into the building. They tip-toed their way back to their room, and Kiryu curled up on his bed with the sickening taste of tobacco and nicotine sinking in his stomach. By the time morning came around, the sickness had passed and he felt much better, but they soon came to regret their decision later in the day when Kazama came to visit. 

It turns out that he had, indeed, noticed the lighter Nishiki stole was missing, and he lined all the kids up and asked for whoever stole them to come clean. When no one stepped forward, he made his rounds and after only a few seconds he figured out it was he and Nishiki just by the smell of tobacco that still clung to their breath. He forced the two of them to fess up and apologize in front of the whole orphanage (Kiryu wouldn't have been so embarrassed about it if Yumi wasn't angrily eyeing him the entire time), then he sent them off to their room and grounded them for a couple of weeks. What Kiryu remembered the most was that he was less pissed off about the smoking, and more pissed off about Nishiki stealing, and getting away with it.

About a year later, when they both had turned fifteen, they tried the same thing all over again.

It went about as well as the first time.

[captainelsaeverdeen]

I like me better when I’m with you.

Okay so! I never considered writing on this blog, but I just had the cutest idea e v e r and I decided to do something about it. I used to write a lot but I stopped to publish anything years ago. Maybe it’s time to come back. Who knows! For now I just wanted to see if someone would like it! English is not my first language so pretty, pretty please forgive me if you find any mistakes :( 

summary: based on ‘To All The Boys I Loved Before’. Y/N Henderson used to be in love a couple of times. This time she’s sure it’s something bigger, something serious. Her love for Jonathan Byers is unlimited, untamed and endless. At least she thought so. You can read Part 2 Here.

-

We knew that it was wrong. That he was betrothed to my best friend. But if this isn’t what he wanted then why did he come to the field of desire? It was faded,  that we should meet like this. So when his lips touch my neck to put a gentle kiss on it… 

“Mom asks you to wash the dishes” Dustin was standing in the doorway of your room, smiling silly. He presented his full teeth with pride, moving his eyebrows in a funny way. “It’s not my turn” you said and slowly turned over a page of book your brother interrupted you from reading. “Yours, if you’re planning on going out with Nancy and Jonathan today” he shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Excuse me?” you turned your head so fast that your neck hurt. “Says who?” 

“Says me. You forced me to vacuum last week when I wanted to go to the arcade, but it was your turn. So if you don’t want to be late, you better hurry”  “I hate you” you sighned putting the book down. You ran you fingers through the cover of it with two lovers, leaning towards each other just before the kiss. Dustin was still standing in the doorway. 

“Do they not mind when you are going to their dates?” He asked suddenly. “They don’t call it ‘dates’ when I’m with them. They have time for each other, but we’re still friends. Just because they’re together doesn’t mean… that I’ll stop being their friend” you said. “Whatever you say. I think that’s weird. Totally weird. I wouldn’t want to take Mike or Lucas or Will if I wanted to meet my girl”. “No one asked for your opinion, you abominable little shit!” you screamed going to the kitchen, aggressively putting plates in the sink. They didn’t deserve such terrible treatment, but Dustin was right. It was weird. Weird as fuck. 

After the infamous party at Tina’s last Halloween night, when Nancy broke up with Steve Harrington, and rumours about them didn’t go silent for a good month she and Jonathan became extremely close. You always spent time with them separately. When Nancy and her boyfriend wanted to be alone, you would watch movies on the couch at Joyce Byers’ house. When Jonathan promised Will to take him for a ride in the car listening to The Clash, Nancy combed your hair as Donna Summer filled her room with her songs. But after Halloween, everything changed. Nancy started sitting between you and Jonathan as you guys were watching ‘The Shining’ with a bowl of popcorn. And Jonathan knew ‘I Feel Love’ by heart, although he hated Donna Summer. Something was wrong. Something was diffrent. 

By Christmas, everyone was sure that Jonathan and Nancy started dating. They spent Christmas Eve together and then announced their relationship to you together. And that’s not when your heart started beating faster when you saw him. Not when they were holding hands, not when they kissed every time before the car started from the driveway when they came to your house. Not until Nancy Wheeler took your seat on the couch at Joyce’s house. It wasn’t until then that something unimaginable, something wrong happened, something that should never have happened. You started to have, a little, small, tiny crush on your best friend.

And it wasn’t that you were jealous of Nancy. She was a great girl, smart and deserving of a wise, loving boy, which Jonathan was. But the heart is a treacherous tool. You could leave it with a cat for a month, thinking everything would be all right, and when you get back, you’d find that it threw it out the window. Because it can never be trusted. Admitting your feelings was not an option. You could lose Nancy or Jonathan. Well, Robin and Dustin would still be staying by your side, of course, but losing someone close hurts too much. Too much to be dealt with by an organ that throws the cat out the window. So smiling is okay, pretending everything’s okay is okay. As long as no one guesses and stupid feelings go away.

Not for the first time, right?

“Y/N, honey, what are you still doing here? Jonathan’s here” Mom came to the kitchen. “Ask the youngest” you rolled my eyes and kissed her on the cheek, running out of the house. Nancy pressed the alarm button a couple of times, dropping the window on the passenger side. “I don’t think you’re so excited to see Jason Voorhees for the fourth time since you’re two minutes late” she said, putting her wrist with the watch on it out the window.

“Maybe if my brother weren’t such a troublesome goddamn gremlin, you guys wouldn’t have to wait for so long” you fastened your belt and smiled at Jonathan. “Tell me about it” Nancy rolled her eyes. Her hand was clenching on Jonathan’s hands, their intertwined fingers were on his thigh. He was probably just letting her go to change gear, to grab her hand back, wanting to touch her. You smiled slightly to yourself. “I’m a little offended” you hit the back of Nancy’s chair a little bit. “You questioned my love for Jason, knowing he’s the man of my dreams. I wouldn’t miss this movie now or ever”.

“Man, you have a strange taste in men” Jonathan twisted his head.

Oh boy, if you only knew.

“Who’s gonna pick them for you when I’m out of college?” Nancy said quietly. When you were a year younger than them, you had to reckon they would be gone soon, but the thought still was terrible. You opened the window and put my hand out, feeling the cold wind on your fingers. “Robin’s doing great” you smiled. “She likes Michael Myers”.

“I’m begging you. He’s not even half as terrible as Freddie” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and my father is Stephen King” you snorted. Nancy smiled a little. “And Robin’s driving terribly” Jonathan got ripped off. “Whatever my life depends on it, I’d rather give my car to Carol Perkins, she can at least turn around.

“I gotta get off so you two can both stop making fun of her?” “Oh no. We don’t want Jason to get you here… on a dark road… near the woods…” Nancy wiped out and turned to you with her hands ready to attack. You hit her hands to turn around so she didn’t even think to touch or tickle you. “You can ride with me” Jonathan shrugged his arm. “I like Robin, but your life is in danger when she’s behind the wheel. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

There it was. The stomach’s fickles, the heat on your cheeks and the smile and the awful awareness of how wrong it was. How inappropriate and how unfair it was to Nancy, who sat so close to you, that she could count your moles if she turned around. But before she even thought about him, he was yours. Not exactly, of course. But when Will went missing, he didn’t turn to her for help first. He wasn’t at her door in the middle of the night, rambling about how his mom is getting crazy. He was always a lonely ship drifting in the dark sea, and you were his anchor, which drifted in time to hold him.

Well, once Jason had killed everyone he was supposed to kill, and for most of the movie, Jonathan and Nancy spent most of the time giggling and whispering to each other, after looking at their inseparably intertwined hands, it was time to go home.

It’s not that you wanted to steal your best friend’s boyfriend. You were super happy for Nancy. She deserves a great guy like Jonathan. So it was time for another letter. Fifth, if you believe your stupid heart. “How’s the movie?” Dustin asked when I walked by his room. He was only wearing one sock and reading a comic book. “Didn’t you faint from the excess corn syrup blood?”

“I’m not you” you showed him your tongue. “I didn’t forget about the dishes!” “Oh, you did! The pan is still dirty!” Dustin screamed, but I already locked the door to my room and sat at my desk, hiding my face in my hands. After a few awfully long seconds and listening to the bang of an owl outside the window, I pulled the card out of the drawer looking for a black pen. 

Dear Jonathan Byers… 

These letters are your biggest secret. You weren’t going to send the letter, it was just for you to understand how you were feeling. But really, you guess it was mainly about how sometimes you imagined what it would’ve been like if you’d realized how you felt about them sooner. To all of them. There are five of them: Chris from summer camp, Stanley from the homecoming, Ralph from the neighborhood who lived across the street for just three months, Steve Harrington from high school, and Jonathan. 

You’ve seen Chris once in you life, for two weeks in the riverside forest. Stanley was the only one who asked you to dance, seeing you sitting alone on a bench. Ralph moved into Hawkins a few years ago, but his parents decided to go back to Florida. Steve… well, he became quite a different person when you went to high school. And Jonathan… Jonathan is still an infinite chapter. A chapter in book that’s too beautiful to finish reading it early.

You write a letter when you have a crush so intense that you don’t know what else to do. Rereading your letters reminds you of how powerful your emotions can be, how all-consuming. You hide them between the vinyls on a shelf above the bed, where no one will ever find them. Robin would say you’re being dramatic, but drama can be fun… 

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked suddenly, entering the room without knocking. “Nothing” you smiled, covering the unfinished part of the letter with your elbow. “Your room is a mess” brother looked around. “And listen, about that pan-”

“Good night, Dustin. I hope you will be dreaming of something nice” you smiled sweetly, showing him the way out. It wasn’t until he left that you finished pouring your feelings onto the paper that you put the letter into the envelope, addressed it and put it between the vinyl, where there were four similar envelopes. Each one was for another boy, who would always be a part of you.

Yeah, drama can be fun. Just as long nobody else knows about it.

-

“So you’re telling me” Robin stopped halfway down the track. She didn’t care about getting a pass at the PE, anyway, you too. The coach sent you an indulgent look, and your friend just shrugged her shoulders. The other girls ran past you, rubbing your shoulders, but besides that, they didn’t pay much attention to you. “That they were on another date, taking you with them again? Why don’t you just say no to them?”

“I don’t know” Robin groaned and grabbed her side. “What’s going on?” “My body reacts badly to physical effort” she muttered and sat on the treadmill, pulling her legs out. “Some running won’t hurt you” Becky Miller snorted, running alongside us. “Running is humiliating” Robin didn’t even look at her. “Dude, you have to stop this. Every fucking time you come to me and tell me how badly you’re feeling, you’re the one who’s responsible for it. Tell him finally how you feel. Nothing’s gonna happen. There will be no earthquake. The aliens won’t find their way to Earth. And you will finally fall asleep and free yourself from that strange triangle”.

“I don’t want it to be weird between us” you shruged your shoulders.”If I push them off, I’ll start losing them. They’ll find that the two of us are actually better off and… forget how cool it used to be.”

“That’s why relationships sucks” Robin moaned and grabbed your hand. Coach had already started walking towards us, but he was still far away. “But hey… Nancy is your friend. Jonathan is your friend. They care about you. They love you. Maybe not as much as I do, but they do. You don’t have to worry. Everything’s gonna be okay, just… just don’t let it break you. Okay?”

“Okay” you smiled. Robin smiled too and turned her back, frowning her eyebrows. “What’s Harrington doing here? He’s all sweaty and, oh, my God, he looks gross, but shouldn’t he have basketball practice now?”

“Hey, Henderson!” Steve has spoken to you. You lifted your head and swallowed. Steve hasn’t talked to you since you guys were thirteen. Damn thirteen. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad this looks like?” you asked when your hands started shaking. “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties” Robin responded quietly, standing up. “Me?” you made sure and Steve nodded his head. His hair was in terrible disarray, but although it was wet and stuck to his forehead, it still looked impressive. He wasn’t angry or upset, which was good, but… but he didn’t look happy either.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office” Robink winked and walked away.  “Look, I just wanted to say that I really…” Steve licked his lips and wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. What the hell was going on here. “Goddamn, this is the first time I’ve been in situation like this… I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen”. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked. Why did Robin have to leave? Why did she have to leave you? “From what I remember that kiss was hot, you know, for being in seventh grade” Steve said slowly, leading the eye somewhere outside of you, just to avoid looking you in the eye. “And I think it’s really cool you think I have golden specks in my eyes. And that my hair is gorgeous. But this is a strange moment for me… I just broke up with Nancy, you know… Becky is… she’s fine, she seems fine. I may not be ready at all…”

You stopped listening to him and looked at his hands. You don’t know what you expected, maybe they will shake as much as yours, but no. He was holding the envelope. A white, slightly old envelope, with his name written with your writing. With your pen. And your hand.

“At first I thought it was just Dustin’s stupid joke, but that dipshit probably doesn’t even know how to write…” Steve kept on talking, but your mind was somewhere else. It went all the way from school to your house, tossing the whole room in it’s memory, wondering hhow did the letters get in sight. How did they even reach the people they were never supposed to reach?

“I don’t want to be an asshole, and I certainly don’t want you… I don’t know, to feel bad about it, but…” Steve’s voice was drilling into your brain, and your stomach started to shrink painfully. Maybe it’d have managed, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan was just going to the pitch, and he also was holding the envelope.

Oh, no.

[written-beyond-the-grave]

Wonder

They say we live in the moment, that the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future we dream of even in the cold. For you, that was snow, those wintry days of bluster and ice. You see the earth of yesterday covered as white as any new page and the toddler in me rises as if armed with a rainbow of crayons, eager to set that right. Yet today, you were happy to simply walk in it, create a few footprints of your own. You watched them tumble, those feathered crystals, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform, more orderly. Yet for some their destination is to come to your hand, to alight upon those ungloved fingers and let your warmth be their spring melt: and to also toss a snowball at the unsuspecting yeti.

You barked out a laugh as you caught an oblivious Phil in the face with the snow, it was all short run due to Phil making a large snowball that’d definitely cause some damage if it hit a human. Making a sprint to dodge, your snow boots crunched under the fresh now to behind a forgotten sled. The impact of the snowball caused the sled to push you first face into the snow, though muffled you could hear the chucking Phil and the other Yeti’s made. Pushing yourself up from the sled with your mitten protected hands you made a show to shake the snow from off your wool coat and black braids that cascaded down from under an aviator hat.

“Nice job Phil,” your frozen lips mumbled, “Now back into the Kremlin I go.” You made a short walk back to the entrance of the Pole, well, one of its many entrances. As per usual the Pole was covered in ice, but not as much due to it being mid July. The bottom half of the workshop that was commonly encased in a block of ice was now sporting a thin layer. That also meant that there was danger of falling icicles as one narrowly missed you by a hair. You froze and stared at it for a minor moment, “That’s nice,” before going in. 

The absurdly pulsing heat in the workshop was a rude awakening to your nearly frozen lungs and somehow turned your lips number the they already were. Leaving you winter gear at the door on their respective hooks and cubbies you made your way to your favorite place: the kitchen. Now matter how many times you’ve been in the workshop, it still amazed you. The various tall columns of sturdy wood, the signature red accents with hints of silver and cold. All questionably mixed in with architecture made of solid ice that did not melt in the sweltering heat of the Pole. A feat for the ages, you called it. Your feet in thick socks took a stroll to the kitchen, looking every which way of everyone's hard work. Since Christmas was a little more than halfway there the yetis and elves had cranked up their work ethic, you could tell by the madness going on. Fighter planes were taking test drives under the skylight, zooming past bubbles carrying nuts and bolts, and a few fairy dolls. The floor was littered with a toy army reenacting what could be the Siege of Yorktown, red coats versus blue.

Choooooooo. Choooooooo.

“Woah!” you yelped as a train almost tripped you up. It left an impressive cloud of steam as it went by. Madness indeed. Stopping in front of a worktable full of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em robots there were two elves that decided to micic the fight going on. You let out a small cackle as Steven got knocked off the table from a right hook by Susan, the nearby watching elves erupting in cheers and another half looking disappointed as they turned to Sal and started to pass him off coins. Gambling Christmas elves, also a regular off the books occurrence. 

Pushing past the kitchen door you greeted Gretchen, a yeti who was head honcho of fit for a Yeti, or North when he came in for a late night snack. The appliances were a bit too large for you to utilize without a stepping stool of some sort.

“What’s on the menu for today?” You quipped as you took a seat on a tall stool, it had extra foot rests so you could climb. Gretchen made a series of hand motions and grunts, then turned around and pulled out a bowl of soup with grilled cheese on the side.

“Ah, your famous three sister’s tomato soup and grilled cheese supreme, huh? You always know the way to my heart.”

Gretchen looked away abashed and shrugged.

You took a big spoonful of your soup and promptly started to puff out your cheeks and blow, it was hot. But then again you never did like waiting for food to cool down. Gretchen gave you a low look and shook her head in amusement letting you enjoy your lunch she went back to meal prepping. Dipping your grilled cheese into your soup you looked around the kitchen admiring its trimming. Black marble table tops with deep redwood cabinets that had white oval patterns on the edges and snowflake embellished wall edges gave a sort of shine to the atmosphere. That and the floating crystalline chandeliers, each piece was somehow connected to all the others and moves in a circular motion around the ceiling. 

Another bowl of soup and a tray was put beside you.

“Again?”

Gretchen gave a nod.

Of course.

You finished up your soup, “Guess I’m off for delivery.” You got off the stool and took the tray and went on your merry way. Although the Pole was incredibly large there was always a shortcut, out in the corridor was a large pulley system that could take a package out almost anywhere in the house. Pushing the tray into the box and climbing in you pressed a hammer symbol button on the wall and watched as the door closed and felt it surge. While on the short ride you pulled out your watch and checked the time, the north star was on the bottom right hand corner. Dinner would be soon.

The elevator staggered to a halt and slowly opened out to a blindingly lit floor from the direct sunlight. You cautiously stepped out, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a fraction of the floor in this place. Taking the tray out into your hands you marvelled around. There were beakers, some empty, some filled with liquids and concoctions, bubbling or sparkling in the light. There were crystal balls, wands, staffs, wrenches, gears, tools of both magic and technological trades both jumbled together across the tables. Books were crammed nearly to the ceiling as space had ran out long ago on the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, advanced engineering section arranged in alphabetical order, mythos section, folk magic section with low shelves and floor cushions, comfortable leather arm chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness.  Prototypes of planes, wooden cars, and train parts stood as if trophies on the ledges of the room. Even an old record player with a horn, a mini piano, matryoshka dolls, and a glass case of some floating shadow made an appearance 

And in the middle of it all, crouched over a desk in his signature red sweater, was North, looking completely in his element in this mix of science and magic. Where color-coded wires formed their own abstract meaning, mathematics meets craft, form meets function. Where technology erupts from the hands of artists and the minds of philosophers, the heart of the truest believer, or the eyes that saw wonder in everything. In his huge hand was a tiny bottle with a single black diamond, which he was frowning at thoughtfully.

You’d met North, or Nik, as you’d like to call him about a year ago in a small cafe in Paris. It wasn’t too hard to spot a 7’2” densely built man in a small coffee shop, nor ignore his French with a Russian accent. Meeting, well, being in the presence of father Christmas was a complete accident. But, what wasn’t was him taking notice of the river chapel you were beginning to sketch that was right next to the cafe. It was tall, spiky, and completely gothic. One of France’s oldest architectural structures you had heard. With a half eaten croissant by your side and a cup of cold espresso you had settled down. All until North looked around for a moment and took in your character. 

His first thoughts, you looked dainty: the white layered romper added to that effect and the sunlight on you directly made you look ethereal. Like liquid gold in the most conventional of places, or a sunflower bathing in the sunrays. Your hair was put into two puffs on your head with a braiding pattern in the back to keep your curls from going a stray. 

“Maybe try tilting pencil to the left, yes?” You paused for a second and put your hand on your chest looking up. There stood a tree of a many, an absurdly long white beard that was an accent to largely innocent looking deep blue eyes and bushy graying eyebrows. The mystery man’s hair was put into a bun and across his arms there were two things tatted as far as you could tell with his long sleeve rolled up.

Naughty.

And on the other arm: Nice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Who was this man, and what gave him the audacity to talk to you? Couldn’t you mind your business in peace?

“Your sketch.” He gestured with a large meaty hand, “Maybe it would do good to tilt pencil to get desired effect, no?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You picked up a Russian accent, what was a Kremlin doing this far near the equator? He pulled out a seat, but before he could sit he gave you the silent question. You nodded and North went ahead and sat down.

“May I?”

You wordlessly handed the pencil and watched the man go to work, he looked concentrated as he started back out the window and cobblestone walkway to the chapel. You watched his big hangs engulfing the pencil work, he made some quick strokes and shaded in some parts lightly as he went. 

“Like so.” Finished he pushed the sketchbook back to you. It was well timed since at that moment he was called up for his order. You should see what he meant by tilting the pencil, the slanted edge gave the sketch depth and made the lines bulky and gray enough to seem like bricks. You looked back outside to the warm light, he even got the gargoyle statue in the corners correct.

He came back with this beverage and sat down, “You like?”

“It’s alright.”

He almost spit out his, from what you could tell, a frappuccino with peppermint. Who does that?

“I’m sure you could do better.” He bit out in a laugh, “What brings you to Paris?”

“I got tired of the winter of the big apple.”

“Ah, a New Yorker I presume? Should be used to the cold?”

You leaned forward and grabbed your forgotten cup with your hand and took a long drink. “I could say the same for the Russian. What? Get tired of the frosty frosty?”

He shrugged. “Something of the sort.”

“Something of the sort,” you repeated, “You don’t strike me as sitting in a small cafe and enjoying the pending sunset type.”

He leaned forward and took the candy cane out of his drink and munched on it, “Then what do I strike you as?”

You did a quick analysis, “You seem a little too jolly to be out here, you’re a little far from home, hmmm?” You mused, “You’re… big, I assume a worker of sorts. Maybe a factory? But then again you do a grandfather type fatherly vibe going on. But I think I’ll stick with the private manufacturer owner… What do I strike you as?”

North was surprised you deduced that much in such little time, you almost had the right idea. Almost. “Depends,” he huffed and pulled his arms across his chest and gave you a deep gaze, “Are you naughty, or nice?”

The air was thick and suffocating, you had only been there for a good forty minutes and a husky Russian was giving you quite a plight. You went through the checklist in your head: tattoos, a gold ring on his thumb that made him look like a pimp, man-bun, thick accent, eyes that looked too genuine, and a soft interior that didn’t match his exterior. An oddity that conflicted with your scheduled time in Paris before you hit Germany, an oddity that you had no time or desire for… However, when in Paris, do as the Parisians do. 

You stared at him for a moment, “Name’s (y/n).” You held out your hand.

He shook your hand, you could feel the warmth and the calcoususes that graced his hand. The greeting was surprisingly gentle for a man of his size.

“Nikolai.”

“Delivery from the polar express.” You walked up behind him and placed the tray far off from his papers and creative process going on his desk. You pushed up your tippy toes and kissed his cheek, you felt the hairs on his long white beard tickle your nose.

He leaned into your touch and you felt his cheek heat up slightly. “Sunflower!” North snaked an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, you giggled.

 “What’s on the schedule today Nik?”

“Djinn is stuck in diamond, may have been a few thousand years old.” He turned around fully to show you the tiny bottle, “Have yet to find place of storage.”

You stared at the bottle for a moment, “You cease to surprise me with you always bring in here. Last week a seemingly cursed puppet, and the week before that was an actual cursed clown doll that kept switching places around the shop.” You shuddered at the memory, never in your life had you felt violated by a clown doll barely two feet suddenly appearing behind you in a mirror. A bellowing laughter pulled you out from your thoughts, North slapped his belly.

“Clown is gone now,” he paused and wrinkled his eyebrows, “hopefully.” 

At that you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes questionably, how the hell did you end up here?

“Hilarious.”

Another chuckle erupted. You turned around and walked closely to the window formed by ice, actually, more than half the floor in North’s special experiment room was made of ice. Looking outside the yeti were still out there this time talking the reindeer for walks, hard to believe but Blitzen was giving them a hard time. 

“Almost forgot to mention, guardians will be over for dinner and game night. Been a while seen we last met.”

“Game night?” You turned around to face North and leaned against the cold ice. “You mean… Bunny will be there?”

You stifled a smile as you saw North’s shoulders freeze.

“Sunflower－”

“Say less!” With an enthusiastic voice you bounded up back to North’s desk, and this time slowly pushed the tray towards him that he ignored the first time around. “Eat… you’ll need energy for game night.”

His big blue eyes met your chocolate ones, in opposition for whatever your voice signalled for the night. He didn’t like it, game night was fine. However, you and the Easter Bunny were not a good mix. Last game night ended up with paint splattered everywhere at the Bob Ross themed night and a hopping mad Aussie. In your defence, color theory had no place in abstract design when art had no meaning but to be consumed by an audience… a philosophical approach of course. And this sparked a mini passive aggressive argument between you and the Pooka, one thing led to another and what was previously a nice community den turned into a colorbomb of curses, laughter, and acrylic. After that it became known not to leave you and Bunny alone on artistic matters. Civil was not a word in your vocabulary. 

Sighing, he dug into his soup not wanting to know what you had planned for this night. He’d hold Sandy on standby if anything occurred. Grinning in success you gave the hulking man a quick hug and bounced off.

North shook his head in, whatever fire you were prepping for, he didn’t want the smoke.

  Dinner had been a success, you had gotten Gretchen to whip up some Americanized Chinese food. Not the healthiest, but when working with ancient spirits it was important to introduce them to average human delicacies. Thus the table had a large bowl or lobster fried rice, egg rolls, sweet and sour lo mein with bourbon chicken. MSG had never tasted so good.

“So, how are Mr. and Mrs. Claus doing?” Jack teased conventionally sitting in a chair for once, slouching back he took a sip of his cider. “All is well in paradise? And the master bedroom?”

Tooth dug her elbow into Jack’s ribs.

North put his hands above his head and smiled with glee, “Jack, why would not all be well? Has new evil come? But, eh, why would something be wrong in bedroom?” He tossed a confused glance to you, while you were busy stuffing an egg roll in your already filled mouth. It was no surprise that the innuendo went over North’s head, he wasn’t very adept in sarcasm either. 

Swallowing down your food you answered. “Amazing, it��s like a white Christmas. Every. Night,” then gave Jack a wide toothy smile as Tooth choked on her drink and Sandman made a series of symbols summing up that Jack got owned. You’ve never seen a three hundred and some spirit go as red as a strawberry before. 

“Nice going show pony,” Bunny piped up after having a taste of the vegan egg rolls. “Now, dinner was amazing, but we came here for game night.”

North cleared his throat, “And you’re right Bunny.” North let you take it away.

You smirked and pulled out a larger than normal deck of cards, “I present to you all… Uno.”

“So, a card came?” Jack reasoned.

If your smile got a tad bit more malicious showing off your pearly whites. “Not just a card came. Total warfare. Us humans have been playing this for years, its broken up friendships, marriages, and sacred barber companionships. The true test of skill.” You seemed to have mistified Sandy, he was leaning over the table staring at the box in your hand with heightened curiosity. “So lets play!”

Was it just a game of Uno? Yes, but did you find some way to spice things up? Indeed. You had taken the liberty to write down a few options on the special cards in uno. With the help of a sharpie marker you marked down two options on every card, either do as the card said or do the dare. In your reasoning Uno was already too much of an easy game the guardians could figure out, so why not cause more calamity? During the dinner you watched Sandy and Jack go ham with the cider you accidentally spiked with North’s peach flavored Vodka.

“... And then, Man in Moon decided to replace my fear with wonder, and hope an－”

“Uno.”

“What? You were all playing without me!”

“Well, you looked pretty involved in that story,” you shuffled some cards around in your hand and glanced back up, “now draw four.” You got comfortable on the red velvet carpet and crossed your ankles. Everyone was spread out on the rug, Jack Frost sat himself criss-cross while Sandman lazily lounged on him. The tooth fairy, or Toothiana was more invested in the cup of steaming hot chocolate than the game before her while the Easter Bunny was slowly gaining a steady hand of cards. 

North grumbled into his beard and retrieved the additional cards. He glanced down at his hand and huffed, this game had been going on for about thirty minutes, it was time to put things into motion.

You put down a draw four card and it was Jack’s turn.

Draw the whole deck or streak down the hall naked.

“Wait… wait.” It was a minute before Jack could catch up. “I think this card is defective.” Wanting to see what Jack was going on about, Bunny took a look and his ears stood up at attention, already knowing why he turned to look at you all cozy.

“Shiela, what is this?”

“A draw four card.”

“But, what’s on it?”

“Options, I know you both can read.”

He gave you a flat look.

You rolled your eyes and sat up straight, “I took the liberty of making Uno interesting, besides spiking the punch, I may have redacted some of the rules of Uno for my own purposes.” You felt North shift beside you, “And I may have used Nik’s high grade bottle to do so, but that isn’t the point.” You shuffled around and pulled out a small stack of cards and passed five randomly to each player. Taking the rests and shuffling them to the deck in the middle, while doing do, “So Jack, you make your choice?”

He shared a look with everyone.

And ten seconds later he was down the corridor screaming. Huh, you really thought he would’ve taken the whole deck. Stunned into silence the group recounted what they just tried to not see. Everyone could only assume the horror the yeti and elves were witnessing as you heard echoing alarmed yells from the yeti and falling items. You’d have to apologize to North later.

“Bloody show pony.” Bunny sighed.

“So who’s next?” North questioned trying to move things along. “Sandy?”

Sandy glowed a lazy gold and pulled out a skip card that Toothiana could get herself skipped or prank call an ex. She chose to skip.

Up next was Bunny, considering you all were playing stacksies he got rid of more than half his cards and put down a draw four on top of a skip leading it to North.

“Take 34 cards or finish… the whole bottle of alcohol. Bloody hell, Sheila you’ve gone mad.”

North could only stare at the card intently and close his eyes in prayer, of course it had to be you. 

You nudged the bottle, or what was left of one of his favorite bottles. “Drink up big guy.” You know he needed it with what was left to come in the game.

Wordlessly he unscrewed the bottle and downed it.

Oh, it was going to be quite a game.

You know how people say ‘wow last night was totally a blur’ after a trip from Vegas, or one night from Miami? Or when people sing along to Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night as she recounts the questionable teenage acts she’s done before she hits her midlife crisis? Or possible a disaster remake of The Hangover. You never really got that sentiment until now because last night really was a blur. You tried to rock and bring my what happened last night but all you can come up with Jack stripping, Bunny’s explaining how breeding worked between two Pookas, Sandman projecting one of the most erotic dancing you seen to date via sand, tooth knocking out from a complete sugar rush, and North’s tribute to Rick Roll. You're so somehow got back into your bed and you can only assume North had something to do with that as he usually always does. 

Rolling over in the heavenly plush mattress you scooted over to your side of the nightstand. A cup of coffee, it was still steaming and an advil. Definitely North. You smiled at the thought and popped the pill then the coffee, he even remembered you loved vanilla bean. As you continued to drink your coffee you began to feel the pounding headache leave you, but the room was still somewhat spinning. Putting the empty cup back on the nightstand you stretched forward and felt your shoulders pop.

“Jesus Christ.” You yawned and pulled off your bonnet. You surveyed the room for any signs of north. His red robe laid on the armchair of his study desk, and his side of the bed was cold. Crawling over to check if his slippers were gone, there were still there. Huh. Knowing North, he could drink so a hangover wasn’t an actual thing for him.

What time was it? You hopped out of bed and shimmied to the curtains, preparing yourself for the sunlight to harass you. But that never came, either meaning that you slept into the night or it was some ungodly hour before dawn. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Trudging into the bathroom to brush your teeth and check the time, you noted that it was approximately six in the morning. This early, and North was already gone? You slipped a silk robe over your shoulders and headed out in search of the big man himself. After questioning a few yeti and stopping for a breakfast burrito you found North. All the way in one of the Pole’s lower compartments, the training room.

North was practicing with his sabers when you arrived. You had to stop for a moment to appreciate it. Every time you thought you’d seen everything the Pole had to offer, there was something new to find.

The room was large, probably so the guardians could all practice in it at once if they had to, to get used to fighting together. Something you’d seen them do from time to time. The walls could have been anything, under all the padding. The floor was covered in a thick layer of something that gave underfoot, and you weren't sure what it was beyond gentler on someone taking a tumble than wood or stone would have been.

One section of the wall near the doors was full of hanging weaponry. You pictured the fabled “ole Saint Nick”, a jolly man that was all about the children versus the reality of the man who owned all those weapons. 

At the moment, North was the only one in the room. He had his sabers in hand – blunted practice ones, you wondered if they were as heavy as the real thing, from where you were standing they seemed just as heavy. But North made it look easy – and he was going through a strenuous routine.

It was on North had been doing for awhile, if the sheen of sweat was anything to go by. After all, North was built more like a  bear or barbarian weightlifter than the 'bowl full of jelly' he was called; he was husky for sure, but was still muscle. There was strength under that layer of fat, stronger than people gave North credit for.

At some point North had taken off his shirt, full torso on view and honestly you did not mind. You got a nice view of his back muscles and a large intricate compass tattoo in the middle of his back. It was large, in the middle of the compass lay a crest of some sort with two sabers meeting in the middle. Outside of that harsh black ink spread into eight points, each facing north, south, east and west and everything in between. The main arrows were in the same thorn-like pattern as the rim of the inner compass. And above the north pointing arrow laid a phrase I am the master of my own fate, and under that were words written in perfect cursive calligraphy I am the captain of my soul. The true words of a bandit. Your eyes roamed farther up his back and saw a tiny almost ignorable detail, a small star to the right, well ,the second star to the right. The north star that always pointed to home. All of that shining by the sweat pouring down North, pulling your eyes back down you caught a small peak of the bandit tramp stamp he had gotten one drunken night. You stifled a laugh, you remembered the story behind that one. 

Watching as North continued his routine, this time going ballistic on a wooden dummy. You took an easy walk behind him and viewed him up close. 

“Hey big red,” you greeted.

 North staggered quickly and turned around in the same motion to point his wooden saber directly at your face almost touching you. If it was anyone else your face would have been bashed in but, looking into his startled eyes you probably should stop sneaking up on him. Last victim was a bowl of cereal. North was still breathing hard as he awaited for his mind to catch up to what just happened.

“Sunflower.” He heaved out as his chest dropped, “Did not see you!” He opened his arms wide and you got a good look at his chest. As broad as it was, it was equally covered in curly as white as his beard, there were some hints of black. Before you could veto his hug, you were already wrapped up in his arms. You listened to his heart race.

“Good to see you this morning.” You muffled, and tried to pry his hands away from you, man was this guy a space heater.

He let you go. “After game night, I send guardians home and take you to bed. You fell asleep after Jack’s 8 mile reenactment.” He looked at you closely and pushed a stray braid behind your ear, “Was an interesting game night.” The bottle of vodka North had gulped down earlier did not help erase his memories of what happened a couple hours before. 

“I could tell by the hangover, thank you for the bedside assist.”

North nodded and went to put his sabers back in the armory, you followed.

“So, I gotta ask you, big guy… Come ‘ere often?” Your eyes raked down his back, and you saw his muscles tense as he shuffled away from your view. This was new. You blinked for a few seconds in surprise. You would’ve never thought of North as being body shy or ashamed of anything for as long as you knew him. He was always fearless, impulsive, and more of a ‘think things later’ type of guy if the occasion called for it, but never… self conscious. If anybody was, you always figured it would be you, comparing yourself to North's friends. All completely exceptional people who keep the world safe, with seas sof stories and accomplishments to achieve, places they’ve been, or...the list was cut off abruptly as you realized how long North had been quiet.

“Hey,” You said moving closer to North, “You know I didn’t mean any harm.” You put a hand on his back to help alleviate some pain, but it only made the man a bit more tense. “Um...” you paused, searching for the words. The right ones were refusing to come to you, and you didn't want to make this worse, especially if he was reading things wrong.

Fuck it.

“You know I love you, right? All of you.” you said.

You were rewarded with a blush spreading across the parts of North's face you could see and the tops of his shoulders. 

He began to turn around. “Is very nice, what you say,” North said, one hand hovering over his belly. “But...” North wouldn’t meet your gaze, knowing better you dropped the subject and moved back to give him some space. Mumbling out an apology you took your leave. Making a few turns you found one of the dumbwaiters and crawled in. North would be in the training room for a while mulling off his thoughts, or his private study. Pushing the hammer symbol you were now back at his magic lab. You wouldn’t just skip over what happened with North just a minute ago. 

Taking a seat at his work desk you let out a deep sigh and leaned your face on your palms. Santa Clause, you were dating Santa Clause. Also known as Saint Nicholas, St. Nick, Kris Kringle, Pelznickel, St. Nikolai, and formerly known as the Bandit King. All multiple names for the same face, same body, and same soul. All affiliates to a man who brought joy to the world once a year, operated a toy making syndicate for hundreds of years, fought evil on a regular basis, and tinkered with magic and science on a borderline mad scientist type of way. A being who had a laugh as loud as lions and spread happiness everywhere, that never understood sarcasm, and was hard on himself and unsure at times if the toys that he did make were even worth while.

You closed your eyes in thought. Why haven’t you ever peaced together than North ever had issues himself? Sure you helped him out of toy slumps, but what you witnessed today was far beyond that. The jolly giant himself wouldn’t even look at you.

North was, and is, the Guardian of Wonder. By definition he literally saw wonder in everything around him and puts that into his toys and other creations. The lights in trees, the magic in the air, a diamond in the rough, and any tough situation he found something redeeming.

You didn’t know when you started to walk around, but your legs led you to a particular item. A snowglobe. You tentatively reached out and gave it a closer look, it was of Hunley’s Circus, one of your first official dates.

But, how does one see wonder in everything but themselves? Better yet, how do you make the guardian of wonder who's ever really cared and loved others, give a little love to himself? You rolled the snowglobe in your hands a little more, deep in thought. 

Lightbulb.

As quick as the idea came, it flashed away. But you knew exactly what it was. With one final look at the globe you put it back into its rightful place and headed out the room. What you had planned would take all day to execute correctly, but you knew it’d be worth it by tonight. But, all you had was time. And time was your new best friend.

 Twas the night to a long day, and as predicted North had been avoiding you. North couldn’t draw his eyes away from the mirror. His shirt tossed aside, he locked his eyes onto the expanse of skin splayed out in front of him. North bit his lip and focused in on the extra fat accumulated around his middle, his fingers deftly trying to flatten it out to no avail. Deciding to take a break from the self torture North put back in his white night shirt, he was sporting a reindeer themed onsie with the top half wrapped around his waist like a jacket. 

Making his way to your shared bedroom where he was sure you were asleep by this hour, he stepped in and immediately felt sus. There you were, braids down giving you an innocent look and one of his white shirts that contrasted nicely with your skin. The only source of light was from the lamp on your side of the bed. You closed the book and placed a bookmark to come back to it later.

“Hey, Sunflower.” You smiled brightly at his greeting and motioned for him to come to bed. The bed dipped under his weight as he pulled his legs over the bed to rest properly. You crawled over  to him and gave a quick peck on his cheek then went back to your side and slipped under the covers as North did, not forgetting to turn off the lights. In the dark you shifted around in bed to face North back, it was now or never.

“You never answered me,” you began as a whisper, “You know I love you, right?”

North didn’t bother to answer, but you continued.

“You wanna know how I knew? It was Germany, at the circus. Some kids couldn’t afford tickets to get into the circus and were sitting outside listening to what was going on inside. Their eyes were shut so tightly. We were on our way to that circus when you stopped for those kids, you were so concerned about why they were out there on their own…”

“Why long faces?”

“Sir, w- we don’t have enough to buy tickets so we’re doing the next best thing.” A young boy with fiery red hair supplied holding his sister by his side. They were twins.

North got up from his squat and looked around for a second and then spotted a balloon cart. “Wait here.” Leaving for a few minutes to purchase some balloons, North came back with a smile. “You’re just in luck,” he took out an orange balloon, “the real show has just started.” He began to inflate the balloon and when it was a decent size he molded it into a poodle, and handed it to the little girl who stared at him in awe.

He then took a green balloon and white balloon and molded it into a turtle for the young boy, “Here!” With a laugh he handed the boy his turtle. “Do you want to know what’s special about these creatures?”

“N-no,” the boy answered and his sister shook her head as well.

North eyed them both, “They fly for the heart’s of the truest believers.”

The boy gave him a skeptical look, “No way mister.”

“Ahhh, but am telling truth? See,” he pointed his head to the girl’s poodle and saw it begin to take flight around her and stop to nuzzle her nose. This elicted a gasp from the young boy and an inaudible ‘no way’.

“How do I make mine’s float?” Desperately looking to North for answers.

“Believe.” It was a simple command, but the boy looked in distress as he tried. North slapped his belly and chuckled.

“Looks like you did it.” And he did, the turtle was swimming through the air and doing a figure eight. 

You smiled from the sidelines watching the interaction, this was far better than a circus. North stepped back and placed a hand on the small of your back ready to lead you to the circus, but you stopped him.

“I think we have a little time before the show actually starts.” You reasoned with him as you maneuvered yourself back to the kids. 

You never knew the look North was giving you that moment, but it turned to be one of his most treasured memories.

“No, please look at me.” You began to sit up straight in the sheets, “You know I love you. And I’m not talking about you when you’re happy, but when you’re sad, angry, and down right depressed… ya know?” At that he slowly shifted up, but facing away from you in bed, at that you slowly moved closer and sat behind him and leaned your head against his back, “but, I don’t think I ever showed you how much I love you.” 

With that you reached up and quietly took North’s shirt off you to reveal a mustard yellow lingerie set and slowly moved yourself up North’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Let me show you,” you whispered in his ear and hoped he'd allow it. 

“Please.”

North slowly turned around to meet your gaze, slowly pulling him back onto the bed you moved to straddle his torso as you ran your hands slowly up his arms. 

“You know what I love the most about you?” You questioned while your focus was still on his arms, rubbing them gently. You could feel the muscle tense and jump at your ministrations. “Your hands,” you slip your hand into his and played with his, “it's created so many marvelous things.” You brought it up to your lips for a quick kiss and held it near your chest. “Its punched through who knows what, fought so many battles, and sustained so much damage, and yet it can still be gentle. Drying tears, or holding me tight when I need it.”

You were looking at him, taking your free hand you tilted his head to have your eyes meet. “They’re calcoused, but know passion when you trace my face when I’m asleep, or rub circles on my back when I can’t sleep.” You leaned in closer and got quieter, “They’re hands that love.”

And then kissed him, North’s lips were slightly chapped in contrast to your soft ones. He kissed you back and squeezed your hand, pulling back you put his hand next to your face and held it there. Pulling your hands down, you toyed with the bottom of his shirt and nonverbally asked permission. He didn’t make a move to stop you, so you slipped it off as he lifted his hands to aid you. Placing your hands back on his chest you raked your hands through his hair and kissed him once again.

Gradually you moved your kisses down his neck and past his stomach and over his thighs. As you made your journey, you gave his nipple a little suck and nip, and you took his onesie down too. You slowly spread his legs and got between them, without breaking eye contact you began to kiss between his thighs. You could feel him tense again.

The room was suddenly illuminated, North quickly looked up and saw that the usual wooden ceiling was temporarily changed to a night sky. Looking at you he searched your eyes for an answer. You gave no tells. It seemed as if the sky was truly in your joined presence, North stared a little more and noticed the one star shining brightly than the rest. The second star to the left.

“I love your thighs,” you gave his thick thighs a squeeze, “You're so sexy." you half moaned, half sighing you kissed a lazy, open mouthed trail along the curve of North’s thigh as your hands smoothed up and down his flesh. You stopped to grope gently at the supple skin of his thighs, quivering with tension as North struggled not to instinctively shy away.

“Trust me.”

You continued up and body and splayed yourself over his belly and laid a soft kiss on it. He was burning up and you could tell. 

“I-I trust you.” Came a breathy whisper. He couldn’t believe you were doing this just for him, North’s eyes moved up your body and slowly relaxed at the attention.

You took a point to admire his belly, as round as it was and decorated with stretch marks that were shades of pink and purple. 

“You talk down on yourself, and don’t even see the wonder of yourself.” You began and slowly traced a stray mark that curved onto his back. “You don’t even realize how you carry the autonomy of the universe within your skin. The holy bodies that made you the way you are decided to leave a mark, a reminder of where you come from.” You laid another kiss as you began to make your way back up, “A place of infinancy, a place of wonder, and place were the north star guides you home from way up above.” You wrapped both arms around him, “A plac- no, kingdom of beauty that I refuse to let you crumble.”

North’s eyes began to water, but you continued, “A perfectly constructed man, who has a heart purer than gold or the untouched waters of the amazons, with the spirit of unbridled fire, and voice as loud as thunder.” You slowly wiped his tears away as you felt his arms come to circle around you. 

“A man worthy of love.”

You stared directly into his eyes, even while crying he still looked heavenly.

“You’re beautiful.”

You breathlessly whispered and watched North crumble completely into cries and whimpers. Holding him close you ran your hands through his hair and massaged his scalp, you kissed his temple and let him let it out. You let him know what he was, not his body, but his hands, his mind, his own north star.

His own piece of wonder.

[alostsock]

Baby Buck asking if he can bring his new friend Chim for show and tell *ugly weeping*

Fill below the cut.

“Bunny, I’m sorry but you can’t take Chimney for show-and-tell.”

“Why not? He’s a firefighter.”

“Exactly, love. He’s a person. Show-and-tell is usually for... things.”

Evan’s face fell and Maddie’s stomach clenched. He’d been so excited. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Chimney would agree without hesitation - the problem was that show-and-tell was the very next day (and Evan hadn’t exactly given her much notice), and Chimney had already started a 24 hour shift. He wouldn’t be off in time to make it to the school. She grabbed a pen and paper and sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to her.

“Come on, let’s brainstorm. I’m sure we can come up with something awesome. Let’s make a list of your favourite things.”

“Whales.”

“Right! And while we can’t bring in a real whale, what else could you take?”

“Nothing.”

Maddie sighed. “Aww, come on. What about one of your books?”

“Books are boring.”

Maddie frowned. “First of all, books aren’t boring - but I know you know that. You love books.”

“Tommy said I’m a dumb nerd that only likes books.” Maddie took a deep breath. As much as she wanted to retort that Tommy was the dumb one she knew that as Evan’s caregiver she had to be more than just his sister, angry on his behalf. She made a mental note to talk to Evan’s teacher about this Tommy.

“Well, Tommy is wrong. You are not dumb, and you are not a nerd, and people shouldn’t be calling each other names. You are very smart, and there is nothing wrong with liking books. Books can teach you so many things! They can take you so many places!” She paused to think for a second. Not that Tommy had a point, but maybe they could do better than a book. If it saved Evan from being teased, all the better (she did remember the pressures of fitting in at school). “I could get you a real stethoscope?”

Evan shook his head. “Tania’s mom is a doctor. She brought one last time. What does that have to do with whales?”

Maddie put an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his curls. “Nothing, bunny. I’m just stuck for ideas.” She glanced around the apartment. They really didn’t have much more than the basics. What was cool enough for show-and-tell? A thought struck her, and she sent Chimney a quick text. When her phone almost immediately pinged with a response, she grinned, turning to tap Evan on the nose.

“I’ve got an idea. Get your shoes on.”

---

As they were walking up the driveway to the firehouse, Evan looked up at her with a small frown. “I thought you said I couldn’t take Chimney.” She ruffled his hair with a smile.

“I know I said you could’t bring a firefighter, but I think we could swing you bringing some firefighter stuff.”

Evan looked up at her hopefully. “Really?”

They were interrupted by Chimney bounding down the driveway, picking up Evan and swinging him around.

“MY BESTEST BUDDY!” Chimney hollered as he lifted Evan up to sit on his shoulders.

Evan giggled. “Bestest isn’t a word.”

Chimney scoffed. “Uh, yeah it is. It’s better than best. Green, greenest. Warm, warmest. Best, bestest. That’s science.”

Evan giggled again. “That’s not science.”

“It’s word science, Buckaroo. Now, I heard you were in need of some firefighting gear.”

---

As they left the firehouse Evan insisted on carrying the turnout jacket on his own, but they hadn’t even made it halfway to the bus stop when Maddie could tell he was exhausted. She rolled her eyes with a grin, bending down to pick up both her brother and the bag containing the gear he was stubbornly trying to carry. She shook her head fondly at his lack of protest, and they set off toward home.

---

Jenny had just finished showing the class her painted turtle when there was a soft knock on the classroom door. Ms. Pearson looked up with a smile, turning back to the class.

“Evan, how about you go next?” Evan nodded, grabbing the turnout coat and carrying (dragging) it along as he nervously made his way to the front of the classroom. He looked up at Ms. Pearson for permission to start, but instead she nodded her head in the direction of the open classroom door.

Evan’s jaw dropped, and he ran to the door to throw his arms around Chimney, turnout coat forgotten on the classroom floor.

Chimney returned the hug with a laugh. He was dressed in full gear minus the mask. Grinning at Evan he crouched down, pointing at the window. “Look!”

Parked on the street was Engine 118, freshly washed and gleaming in the sun. A few firefighters waved at the window as they saw all of the children’s heads turn in their direction, and someone honked the horn. Evan turned back to Chimney, eyes wide with awe. When Chimney realized the kid wasn’t likely to do anything but stare in shock, his smile grew, and he nudged Evan back towards the middle of the classroom where he picked up the turnout coat and slid Evan’s arms into it. That seemed to break Evan out of his daze, and he beamed up at Chimney, who couldn’t help but beam back. With an encouraging nod from Ms. Pearson, Evan shyly introduced Chimney before starting to describe every piece of gear he had on, and what a firefighter did in a day. His voice rose in volume as he gained momentum, his enthusiasm flooding through.

Chimney was impressed that the kid remembered so much. Sure, he had asked and they had taught him about the gear, about a firefighter’s job, but he hadn’t realized that Evan had retained so much.

By the time Evan was nervously announcing, “Um, that’s all,” Chimney’s heart was swollen with pride. Chimney wasn’t sure which kid was Tommy, but there wasn’t a bored face in the room, so when the engine horn was honked again, he hurried off with one last hair ruffle, confident that his kid had impressed the socks off of him too.

[thejosh1980]

(Seems like) Years since yesterday...

Today, 1 year ago, is a special day...

One year ago today was the last time I bought myself a new guitar... I always wanted a Guild, and as I had been touring a lot with The Cashbags I figured I could now afford it. It's blonde, with P90s and as close as I could get to one of my idols, Dave G from The Paladins.

I bought it second hand via “Ebay Kleinanzeigen”, right before a show with The Cashbags. The guy came to the venue, before sound check and I tried it out. I was in love... I bought it there and then...

I played it that night at The Cashbags show too. This was the only show I played my own guitar during all my years touring with the band. Usually I would use the band gear, as it best suited the look the band wanted (and it was easy for me, I didn't have to carry my guitar and amp to and from shows)...

It's also the only show I have so far played with this guitar...

Why?

Well that's cause of that damn pandemic.

You see, that show in Langenselbold was to become the last one The Cashbags would play with me...

I knew I was leaving the band at the end of the tour, which was at the end of April, but COVID had a different plan. It's kinda hard to explain how it felt driving to the show, a good 6 hours, with 1 or 2 date cancellations happening along the way... However, by the the next morning hotel breakfast, the rest of the tour was cancelled.

We lost 6 solid weeks of shows...

But how naive I was. I thought we'd be back at it pretty soon; dates rescheduled, last minute shows would be booked... you know the deal. But in the end, I didn't share the stage with the band again, I didn't get to say goodbye to half the band members before leaving Germany either.

Alex and I had only been married 10 days when restrictions started to begin in Germany. The full lockdown was a week or two later, wasn't it? I don't know, it's all a bit of a blur.

I was lucky, at the time, I had my studio which was all mine, so I could get out of the apartment, walk the dog and play guitar, loud... The new guitar got some action, behind closed doors of course.

You know the story, we started selling up, packing up and, eventually, moved down under...

It feels surreal to think how, at the time, we had no idea how this was going to affect us. It's quite clear the pandemic has brought out the best (and worst) in people.

I think for me, during my time in Dresden's restrictions, everything felt, well, OK. It didn't feel too bad, but I had a lot to focus on. The “goodbyes” to everyone was the hardest thing. I don't remember being under the weather, depressed or sick. I may have been, but whatever negative thoughts and feelings there were, they weren't strong during that time.

I was lucky to be one of the earlier guests on the Blue Note live stream in March, which encouraged me to do my own live streams in April and May. As unprepared as I was to learn so many new songs, it was a good focus, until it got too much.

In July we had “The Josh Fest” which was too much for my emotions. Dresden, I feel the love. I'm so thankful (and lucky) so many friends could come out for one last party. Reuniting old bands, new bands and old friends on stage, it'll go down as one of the best shows in my life. One that ended with me in tears...

When we had the first cancelled flight and rescheduled flights in mid July, I don't remember feeling too bad about it all either. I didn't like it, but our delay was only a week or two. And we had a roof over our head and Alex's family there to support us.

But once the 3rd or 4th rescheduled flight happened it started to get scary and worrying. I remember some really bad days in Meine. I had lost all hope of getting home. We were in limbo, and had little control over the situation. Our health insurances had expired, we were no longer registered in Germany and were worried constantly if the next flight would let us on. So many last minute cancellations, wears one down. I spent quite a bit of my time frustrated, depressed and helpless during those 2 months.

Once we took control, used some savings and bought ourselves new flights, we made it to Adelaide. I definitely felt better by taking action. However, another set of challenges arise, quarantine isn't fun. We were lucky with our hotel, room and food, but it's still tough... Very tough... And I sympathize with everyone who's had to go through it, especially those who are doing it under hardship.

In late September we made it mum's. We finally made it... I'd been waiting for this moment for a year (longer than originally planned of course). I made the decision to move in September/October 2019. I had achieved a lot in Europe, so many amazing adventures (good and challening) that I'll have enough memories to last a life time (if I can remember them!).

I wanted to come back and take care of my family.

When we arrived at mum's, it hit me... I was back! I didn't feel the excitement I thought I would. I felt bad for Mum. Like, shouldn't I have been crying? Shouldn't I have been screaming! “I'm baaaaaaack!!!” In the end I think it was just relief... We'd arrived almost 3 months later than expected. We needed to settle in.

I think settling in took a while. Is it still happening? Even the smell of the fresh salt air knocks you out! Lots of new things to get used to. Integration had begun. Usually I returned home for a holiday, now it was a return for good. This is a full time permanent position.

I did enjoy October through to January. Alex wasn't working, we had time to do stuff, relax... Enjoy the local scene. I don't surf every day, but definitely as often as conditions allow. I did some work, which I previously blogged about. Alex started working in December, and she loves her job... Things were pretty good...

I was, I still am, trying to get over saying goodbye to my puppy, my friends and wondering why I had little motivation to pick up the guitar...

In mid January Mijo, my little kitten, came into my life. Thanks to my wonderful wife, she knew full well I wouldn't decide to get a pet on my own, and on the responsibility to bring some fur into our lives. Damn I'm lucky.

In fact, Alex's intuition is amazing... She always seems to know know when to ask questions, when to listen, when to take action and when to bring coffee. Bless her cotton socks...

However come February I'd hit the wall. I don't know what it is, what it was.... But it's been a little while coming, and hasn't gone away. It did leave me in bed for 3 days, and don't ask me the reason, cause I can't tell you.

I've had a lot of motivation issues... I just don't feel like getting up... I have to, because I gotta drive mum to work and pick her up. Once back home, usually I drink coffee and force myself to do something, anything... I've used the excuse of “training Mijo” that I visit friends with him, but really my heart hasn't been in it. I just know I'd feel guilty if I didn't do anything...

I've had a lot of paperwork to fill out since getting home. Bank accounts and all that kind of stuff... Alex's visa (which is still on going for another 18 months or so). Also local government bureaucratic stuff I have to deal with. Taxes! I'm planning to start studying in April, but to enroll the process comes with a lot of documentation, questions and answers...

So... Lately...

I have distanced myself from everyone lately. Except for a few moments, I haven't picked up the guitar in almost 12 months. I barely do anything. Writing this blog today, has taken a lot of energy and focus to start. If it wasn't for the “anniversary” today, I wouldn't have even begun to type.

To help you understand the hole I was (and still am) in... I have been blessed with a roof over my head, food every day, a loving wife, a beautiful kitten, a loving mum (and family and friends), the beach, the sounds of birds waking me up and (mostly) great weather... But I'm still unhappy...

How could that be? Why is that?

I know I wrote a few times before, that writing has helped me process my feelings. So I figured I'd better try it. Practice what I preach!... But don't ask me how I feel, I just don't know... and it can change in a heart beat.

I got out of bed today, and I did some office work... First time in over a week... Stuff I've been putting off... I'll need to make a few calls this afternoon too... But in between I think I'll rest... Relax...

Usually, I push myself too much... I have pushed myself to the edge (again)... I've been feeling desperate, unmotivated, hopeless, helpless and, well, just plain shit... I know I gotta get out of it, but these days I'm trying a new approach: pull back, relax, rethink, rest and figure out the right balance... So far I am somewhere in the middle....

At least I think I feel better than when I was constantly powering through and not acknowledging my feelings.

I'm my worst critic, and I feel guilty if I don't “do” every day... I gotta “do” this or that... But sometimes you gotta take care of yourself... That is also a “do”... isn't it? Self care. Self love. Listening to your body.

So it's been one of the roughest years in a long time for us... hasn't it??

Damn...

Please don't do what I do and ignore the stress and pressure... What I mean is, there's been so many new things for all of us, so many new challenges, we forget how far we've come. We forget we are still here.

We have achieved so much, even if it's the fact we got out of bed today!!!

We need to be kind to each other, but more importantly to ourselves. I wouldn't treat my pet, my friends or my family as badly as I do myself, so why am I doing that?? It's gotta stop.

I gotta listen to myself when I don't feel up to it, and forgive myself for putting myself first... Rest... Reflection... Relaxing... Recuperation... Maybe then I can begin the next chore... Like filling out this damn paperwork just to get into college...

https://youtu.be/-rkq9ffBpWY - The Paladins - Years Since Yesterday

Thanks for reading,

Josh

[stevenismyboy]

I like me better when I’m with you.

This fic was posted first on my main blog which is captainelsaeverdeen. I started my own blog only for my imagines and I moved all my work from there to here. hope you guys would enjoy my work! <3

summary: based on ‘To All The Boys I Loved Before’. Y/N Henderson used to be in love a couple of times. This time she’s sure it’s something bigger, something serious. Her love for Jonathan Byers is unlimited, untamed and endless. At least she thought so. You can find my Masterlist here. 

-

We knew that it was wrong. That he was betrothed to my best friend. But if this isn’t what he wanted then why did he come to the field of desire? It was faded,  that we should meet like this. So when his lips touch my neck to put a gentle kiss on it…

“Mom asks you to wash the dishes” Dustin was standing in the doorway of your room, smiling silly. He presented his full teeth with pride, moving his eyebrows in a funny way. “It’s not my turn” you said and slowly turned over a page of book your brother interrupted you from reading. “Yours, if you’re planning on going out with Nancy and Jonathan today” he shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Excuse me?” you turned your head so fast that your neck hurt. “Says who?”

“Says me. You forced me to vacuum last week when I wanted to go to the arcade, but it was your turn. So if you don’t want to be late, you better hurry” “I hate you” you sighned putting the book down. You ran you fingers through the cover of it with two lovers, leaning towards each other just before the kiss. Dustin was still standing in the doorway.

“Do they not mind when you are going to their dates?” He asked suddenly. “They don’t call it ‘dates’ when I’m with them. They have time for each other, but we’re still friends. Just because they’re together doesn’t mean… that I’ll stop being their friend” you said. “Whatever you say. I think that’s weird. Totally weird. I wouldn’t want to take Mike or Lucas or Will if I wanted to meet my girl”. “No one asked for your opinion, you abominable little shit!” you screamed going to the kitchen, aggressively putting plates in the sink. They didn’t deserve such terrible treatment, but Dustin was right. It was weird. Weird as fuck.

After the infamous party at Tina’s last Halloween night, when Nancy broke up with Steve Harrington, and rumours about them didn’t go silent for a good month she and Jonathan became extremely close. You always spent time with them separately. When Nancy and her boyfriend wanted to be alone, you would watch movies on the couch at Joyce Byers’ house. When Jonathan promised Will to take him for a ride in the car listening to The Clash, Nancy combed your hair as Donna Summer filled her room with her songs. But after Halloween, everything changed. Nancy started sitting between you and Jonathan as you guys were watching ‘The Shining’ with a bowl of popcorn. And Jonathan knew ‘I Feel Love’ by heart, although he hated Donna Summer. Something was wrong. Something was diffrent.

By Christmas, everyone was sure that Jonathan and Nancy started dating. They spent Christmas Eve together and then announced their relationship to you together. And that’s not when your heart started beating faster when you saw him. Not when they were holding hands, not when they kissed every time before the car started from the driveway when they came to your house. Not until Nancy Wheeler took your seat on the couch at Joyce’s house. It wasn’t until then that something unimaginable, something wrong happened, something that should never have happened. You started to have, a little, small, tiny crush on your best friend.

And it wasn’t that you were jealous of Nancy. She was a great girl, smart and deserving of a wise, loving boy, which Jonathan was. But the heart is a treacherous tool. You could leave it with a cat for a month, thinking everything would be all right, and when you get back, you’d find that it threw it out the window. Because it can never be trusted. Admitting your feelings was not an option. You could lose Nancy or Jonathan. Well, Robin and Dustin would still be staying by your side, of course, but losing someone close hurts too much. Too much to be dealt with by an organ that throws the cat out the window. So smiling is okay, pretending everything’s okay is okay. As long as no one guesses and stupid feelings go away.

Not for the first time, right?

“Y/N, honey, what are you still doing here? Jonathan’s here” Mom came to the kitchen. “Ask the youngest” you rolled my eyes and kissed her on the cheek, running out of the house. Nancy pressed the alarm button a couple of times, dropping the window on the passenger side. “I don’t think you’re so excited to see Jason Voorhees for the fourth time since you’re two minutes late” she said, putting her wrist with the watch on it out the window.

“Maybe if my brother weren’t such a troublesome goddamn gremlin, you guys wouldn’t have to wait for so long” you fastened your belt and smiled at Jonathan. “Tell me about it” Nancy rolled her eyes. Her hand was clenching on Jonathan’s hands, their intertwined fingers were on his thigh. He was probably just letting her go to change gear, to grab her hand back, wanting to touch her. You smiled slightly to yourself. “I’m a little offended” you hit the back of Nancy’s chair a little bit. “You questioned my love for Jason, knowing he’s the man of my dreams. I wouldn’t miss this movie now or ever”.

“Man, you have a strange taste in men” Jonathan twisted his head.

Oh boy, if you only knew.

“Who’s gonna pick them for you when I’m out of college?” Nancy said quietly. When you were a year younger than them, you had to reckon they would be gone soon, but the thought still was terrible. You opened the window and put my hand out, feeling the cold wind on your fingers. “Robin’s doing great” you smiled. “She likes Michael Myers”.

“I’m begging you. He’s not even half as terrible as Freddie” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and my father is Stephen King” you snorted. Nancy smiled a little. “And Robin’s driving terribly” Jonathan got ripped off. “Whatever my life depends on it, I’d rather give my car to Carol Perkins, she can at least turn around.

“I gotta get off so you two can both stop making fun of her?” “Oh no. We don’t want Jason to get you here… on a dark road… near the woods…” Nancy wiped out and turned to you with her hands ready to attack. You hit her hands to turn around so she didn’t even think to touch or tickle you. “You can ride with me” Jonathan shrugged his arm. “I like Robin, but your life is in danger when she’s behind the wheel. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

There it was. The stomach’s fickles, the heat on your cheeks and the smile and the awful awareness of how wrong it was. How inappropriate and how unfair it was to Nancy, who sat so close to you, that she could count your moles if she turned around. But before she even thought about him, he was yours. Not exactly, of course. But when Will went missing, he didn’t turn to her for help first. He wasn’t at her door in the middle of the night, rambling about how his mom is getting crazy. He was always a lonely ship drifting in the dark sea, and you were his anchor, which drifted in time to hold him.

Well, once Jason had killed everyone he was supposed to kill, and for most of the movie, Jonathan and Nancy spent most of the time giggling and whispering to each other, after looking at their inseparably intertwined hands, it was time to go home.

It’s not that you wanted to steal your best friend’s boyfriend. You were super happy for Nancy. She deserves a great guy like Jonathan. So it was time for another letter. Fifth, if you believe your stupid heart. “How’s the movie?” Dustin asked when I walked by his room. He was only wearing one sock and reading a comic book. “Didn’t you faint from the excess corn syrup blood?”

“I’m not you” you showed him your tongue. “I didn’t forget about the dishes!” “Oh, you did! The pan is still dirty!” Dustin screamed, but I already locked the door to my room and sat at my desk, hiding my face in my hands. After a few awfully long seconds and listening to the bang of an owl outside the window, I pulled the card out of the drawer looking for a black pen.

Dear Jonathan Byers…

These letters are your biggest secret. You weren’t going to send the letter, it was just for you to understand how you were feeling. But really, you guess it was mainly about how sometimes you imagined what it would’ve been like if you’d realized how you felt about them sooner. To all of them. There are five of them: Chris from summer camp, Stanley from the homecoming, Ralph from the neighborhood who lived across the street for just three months, Steve Harrington from high school, and Jonathan.

You’ve seen Chris once in you life, for two weeks in the riverside forest. Stanley was the only one who asked you to dance, seeing you sitting alone on a bench. Ralph moved into Hawkins a few years ago, but his parents decided to go back to Florida. Steve… well, he became quite a different person when you went to high school. And Jonathan… Jonathan is still an infinite chapter. A chapter in book that’s too beautiful to finish reading it early.

You write a letter when you have a crush so intense that you don’t know what else to do. Rereading your letters reminds you of how powerful your emotions can be, how all-consuming. You hide them between the vinyls on a shelf above the bed, where no one will ever find them. Robin would say you’re being dramatic, but drama can be fun…

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked suddenly, entering the room without knocking. “Nothing” you smiled, covering the unfinished part of the letter with your elbow. “Your room is a mess” brother looked around. “And listen, about that pan-”

“Good night, Dustin. I hope you will be dreaming of something nice” you smiled sweetly, showing him the way out. It wasn’t until he left that you finished pouring your feelings onto the paper that you put the letter into the envelope, addressed it and put it between the vinyl, where there were four similar envelopes. Each one was for another boy, who would always be a part of you.

Yeah, drama can be fun. Just as long nobody else knows about it.

-

“So you’re telling me” Robin stopped halfway down the track. She didn’t care about getting a pass at the PE, anyway, you too. The coach sent you an indulgent look, and your friend just shrugged her shoulders. The other girls ran past you, rubbing your shoulders, but besides that, they didn’t pay much attention to you. “That they were on another date, taking you with them again? Why don’t you just say no to them?”

“I don’t know” Robin groaned and grabbed her side. “What’s going on?” “My body reacts badly to physical effort” she muttered and sat on the treadmill, pulling her legs out. “Some running won’t hurt you” Becky Miller snorted, running alongside us. “Running is humiliating” Robin didn’t even look at her. “Dude, you have to stop this. Every fucking time you come to me and tell me how badly you’re feeling, you’re the one who’s responsible for it. Tell him finally how you feel. Nothing’s gonna happen. There will be no earthquake. The aliens won’t find their way to Earth. And you will finally fall asleep and free yourself from that strange triangle”.

“I don’t want it to be weird between us” you shruged your shoulders.”If I push them off, I’ll start losing them. They’ll find that the two of us are actually better off and… forget how cool it used to be.”

“That’s why relationships sucks” Robin moaned and grabbed your hand. Coach had already started walking towards us, but he was still far away. “But hey… Nancy is your friend. Jonathan is your friend. They care about you. They love you. Maybe not as much as I do, but they do. You don’t have to worry. Everything’s gonna be okay, just… just don’t let it break you. Okay?”

“Okay” you smiled. Robin smiled too and turned her back, frowning her eyebrows. “What’s Harrington doing here? He’s all sweaty and, oh, my God, he looks gross, but shouldn’t he have basketball practice now?”

“Hey, Henderson!” Steve has spoken to you. You lifted your head and swallowed. Steve hasn’t talked to you since you guys were thirteen. Damn thirteen. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad this looks like?” you asked when your hands started shaking. “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties” Robin responded quietly, standing up. “Me?” you made sure and Steve nodded his head. His hair was in terrible disarray, but although it was wet and stuck to his forehead, it still looked impressive. He wasn’t angry or upset, which was good, but… but he didn’t look happy either.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office” Robink winked and walked away. “Look, I just wanted to say that I really…” Steve licked his lips and wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. What the hell was going on here. “Goddamn, this is the first time I’ve been in situation like this… I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen”.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked. Why did Robin have to leave? Why did she have to leave you? “From what I remember that kiss was hot, you know, for being in seventh grade” Steve said slowly, leading the eye somewhere outside of you, just to avoid looking you in the eye. “And I think it’s really cool you think I have golden specks in my eyes. And that my hair is gorgeous. But this is a strange moment for me… I just broke up with Nancy, you know… Becky is… she’s fine, she seems fine. I may not be ready at all…”

You stopped listening to him and looked at his hands. You don’t know what you expected, maybe they will shake as much as yours, but no. He was holding the envelope. A white, slightly old envelope, with his name written with your writing. With your pen. And your hand.

“At first I thought it was just Dustin’s stupid joke, but that dipshit probably doesn’t even know how to write…” Steve kept on talking, but your mind was somewhere else. It went all the way from school to your house, tossing the whole room in it’s memory, wondering hhow did the letters get in sight. How did they even reach the people they were never supposed to reach?

“I don’t want to be an asshole, and I certainly don’t want you… I don’t know, to feel bad about it, but…” Steve’s voice was drilling into your brain, and your stomach started to shrink painfully. Maybe it’d have managed, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan was just going to the pitch, and he also was holding the envelope.

Oh, no.

Taglist: @krazykatkay​ @mochminnie​ @ghostineleven​ @the-almond-dinger​ @sydzygy​ @queen1054​