#I AM STRESSED . IT FELL ON MY FUCKING BINDER TOO I HATE IT HERE

[fly-flower-fanfics]

Can you do a Spencer Reid X Reader where the Reader is ftm and binds with ace bandages? The unsub can be targeting transgender people and targets the reader. Nothing too bad to the reader preferably but something happens to make the bandages visable. I know that binding with bandages is bad because I did it until I got a binder.

Sorry this took me so long. I’ve been out of it lately, so this is my first writing piece getting back into the swing of things, so I’m sorry if it’s bad. I hope this is something you were looking for!

Binding Secrets

Spencer Reid x Trans Male Reader

Warnings: ACE bandage binding. PLEASE don’t bind like this. 🥺

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This case was really stressful to me. It stressed me out more than other cases usually did. I’m sure the team has picked up on it, but I didn’t want to tell them why I was so stressed out. That was my secret and my secret alone.

There was no way I was going to be able to come out to the team. After I’ve gotten top surgery, then maybe, maybe, but certainly not now. Being transgender was a crime, it felt like. It was to this unsub apparently.

It was late and time for all of us to go home. The I could take these stupid ACE bandages off. I felt like my lungs were collapsing; it hurt to breathe. I knew that it wasn’t safe, especially for a job like mine where we have to be on the move a decent amount, but I hadn’t gotten around to buying a binder yet.

I was stopped by Spencer just before I got into my car, though. Part of me didn’t mind because I had a crush on the genius, but another part of me did mind because I was tired, and I just wanted to go home.

“What’s up, Spence?” I asked.

He hesitated a moment, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I’m worried about you,” he said softly at first. He then cleared his throat. “You’ve been acting different lately, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” I said with a soft smile. Was I? 

“Y/N, I can tell when you’re lying to me. You have a tell, just like everyone else. Please...”

I felt bad lying to him, But I couldn’t tell him. My throat tightened like I was going to cry. “I need you to drop it, Spence,” I said softly

“Why? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because I can’t, Spencer!” 

He shook his head, dropping his arms by his side. “This is exactly what I get when I trust someone; it gets thrown back in my face.”

“Spencer, that’s not what this fucking is!” I yelled at him, tears now streaming down my cheeks.

Spencer’s demeanor changed completely as he noticed my tears.

“It has nothing to do with you, Spencer,” I said, wiping at my face aggressively. I hated that I was crying so easily. But I knew it was because of my stress and how close I was to snapping. 

Truth was was that I was scared. I was scared that I would be the next victim. That I wouldn’t be safe in my own home. All because I was trans and some guy out there thought that that was a crime and needed to kill me for it.

“Y/N....”

I shook my head, holding up a hand. “Save it. I’m sorry for yelling at you. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go home now.” With that, I got into my car and left.

The next day, I was really anxious to see Spencer. I had already apologized for yelling at him, but that didn’t change the fact that I had yelled at him.

I went to the bathroom and grabbed my ACE bandage, looking at it sadly. I hated that stupid thing. I could feel it practically squishing my ribs and lungs. I hated it so much. I couldn’t just not wear it though. I didn’t need the team seeing my chest.

I began wrapping it around and secured it in place once I was finished. I took a breath and sighed. At least it wasn’t too bad in the beginning of the day.

I made my way to my car and began to drive to work. The anxiety of seeing Spencer returned. I felt bad. Maybe I should apologize again. I pulled into my parking spot and shook my head. No, if he still had beef with me, he would say so, right?

I walked to my desk and set my things down, going to grab a coffee. As I made it, I was already making a face because I knew how bad;y it would taste.

“You know, I have to make my coffee deliberately bad so I can drink it now,” I said to Morgan, who has just walked in. 

He laughed. “I know what you mean. However, I still like a good cup of joe.”

I chuckled softly and went back to my desk, looking over the case file. We had a pretty good idea who the unsub was. We had just been waiting on Garcia to get the right information about him. 

The team quickly left, leaving Spencer and me behind, as they went to catch the unsub.

My gaze turned toward the genius again. His hair looked soft as it framed his face. His beautiful eyes intently read whatever book he was reading. His perfect hands turned the pages every couple of seconds. 

Best not to disturb him.

I looked over the last bits of information as I was clearing off the board to make a little bit more room when I realized something. The gate. How had we missed that? The gates were his signature, doors to whatever he thought. I couldn’t figure out that part. But it made me realize that now, the team was going after the wrong guy.

I quickly grabbed my coat and ran out to my car. I had to catch this guy before he caught someone else. I swallowed hard as I threw my car into gear. Who else would be better bait for this guy than a trans man like myself?

I made my wait to the gate that was in the last picture and entered the abandoned house. This was where the last victim was found, but we had figured that he liked to revisit the crime scenes. I was just banking on the fact that he hadn’t revisited this one since it had been blocked off for a couple of days.

I drew my gun and tip-toed quietly through the halls. A squeaky floorboard gave away my position, and I froze. Had he heard? Was he even here? I shook my head and continued down the hallway.

I heard a noise from behind me. I turned, but I wasn’t able to see what or who it was before something hit me in the face and knocked me out.

I woke up, dazed and confused. I tried to move but realized that my arms were tied behind me and I was stuck to a pole. I jerked to try and free myself, but it was useless.

The unsub walked over to me, twirling a knife around his fingers. “Y/N L/N, I am familiar with you. The only trans member in the BAU, isn’t that right?” 

I sneered at him, still trying to free myself. “So the fuck what? How do you even know who I am?”

“Oh, I know a lot more than you may think,” he said, walking up to me and lifting my chin with the knife. “But that’s all surprise for later on.” 

He slashed at the sleeve of my coat with his knife. “First, we play a game. It’s called Tell Me The Truth Or I’ll Take One Article Of Clothing At A Time.”

“Long title of a stupid ass game,” I muttered to myself, mentally cringing. Sometimes I hated that I was always so snippy.

He slashed at the other sleeve of my coat. “Got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

His stupid little game continued as I tried my best to keep my mouth shut. But it seemed like no matter what I did, he was slashing at my clothing. There was no sign of sexual assault on the victims, but did he do this to all of them? Somehow, I couldn’t seem to remember anything about this unsub.

My knees shook as fear began to take over my body. What would happen when he shredded my clothing to the point that there was nothing left of them? Would he go to my skin next? One of the victims was all slashed up, I think. I shook my head, trying to keep m mind clear. I needed to be safe long enough for someone to find me.

A hand around my neck made me look up and realize the unsub was behind me now, holding the knife to my neck. My eyes fell to a person standing at the base of the stairs: Spencer Reid. My heart filled with joy. Thank god for Spencer and his big brain.

“Put the gun down or I’ll kill her,” the unsub said, pressing the knife deeper into my throat.

I winced, but at the misgendering, not the knife. 

“He’s a he,” Spencer replied, holding his gun in the same position as he was five seconds ago. 

“I said, put the damn gun away!” 

The knife bit my skin, causing me to cry out. This made Spencer put his gun away. 

“All right, all right, look. The gun’s away. It’s away. Let him go.”

“I’m not letting her go. People like her need to be fixed. They’re mentally ill.”

My stomach tightened at the midgenderment. It sucked because he was going to tell Spencer my secret. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out everything that was happening. Things would be okay. They had to be okay. I had to believe that. I had to believe that I’d make it out of here. I prayed Spencer wouldn’t tell the rest of the team my secret. 

All I ever wanted was to be seen as a real boy...

The next thing I knew, my hands were being untied and there was a slight ringing in my ears. I looked down next to me to see the unsub, dead. Spencer must have been able to convince him to get far enough away from me for him to draw his gun and shoot the guy before either one of us got stabbed.

“Y/N, are you all right?” I nodded, and Spencer pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll get you new clothing. Do you want to come to my house?”

I guess it was obvious to Spencer that I didn’t want to be alone. I nodded silently and he led me out to his car. “We’ll come back for yours later,” he promised me. 

At this point, I didn’t really care. My head hurt from being knocked out, and my chest was aching all over again.

Our car ride was mostly silent, but Spencer spoke up. “How did you know it was him?”

“The gate,” I replied. “Something about the gates never lined up in my head. But then it reminded me of why he always kept the eyes open. They were like portals. To what, I’m not sure...”

Spencer nodded and hesitated before speaking again. “You’re binding unsafely...”

I didn’t know what he was talking about until i looked down. My shirt was shredded, and it was easy to see the ACE bandages that was supposed to be hidden. I cursed myself, squeezing my eyes shut. 

“Please don’t tell anyone, Spence. I don’t want them to know I-I didn’t want anyone to know...”

“Is that why this case bothered you so much?”

I didn’t say anything, but my silence was probably the clearest answer. Spencer didn’t say anything else until we got to his house. He led me inside and sat me down on the couch. 

“I can grab you some clothing to borrow for tonight, but I need you to take that bandage off. You’re going to ruin your changes for top surgery. It can seriously hurt you. it can crack or break ribs and-” 

“I know, Spencer,” I said softly. “But I can’t. I’m scared...”

“My shirt’s will be big enough on you. I promise. And if you want, I’ll stay in my room all night so I won’t see you without it on. You...” He stopped a moment. He closed his eyes for a second before looking at me again. “You can borrow one of my old binders tomorrow. It may not fit perfectly, but it’s so much better than that bandage.” Spencer sat next to me on the couch.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Spencer....Spencer had just come out to me as trans. I couldn’t believe it. He was trans this whole time too? My emotions welled up in my chest, and I felt like crying all over again.

“I love you,” I blurted out. Immediately, I felt myself blush, and I regretted my words.

Spencer only smiled at me. “I love you; I always have.”

I looked down at my lap, feeling a tear drip down my cheek. “Spence, I’m scared... I-I love you. But I’m so scared...”

“Of what?”

“Of what the team will say. That...that you’ll hate me for being trans...”

“Y/N, I can’t hate you for being trans when I’m trans myself.” Spencer took my hands in his. “If you want to leave the confessions alone for tonight, I understand. You’ve been though a lot. We can talk more in the morning when you have a clearer mind. Just promise me you’ll take that ACE bandage off.”

“I promise,” I said quietly. 

Spencer stood and pressed a light kiss onto my forehead. “Thank you. Now let me go grab you those clothing so you can turn in for the night. I’ll be here if you need anything at all.” He got up and began to walk down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Spencer?” I called out.

He stopped and looked back at me from the doorway. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#spencer reid #x male reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x male reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x trans male #x trans reader #x trans male reader #trans spencer reid

[between-two-fandoms]

Hey! I wanted to ask you a fic Reggie x Luke x Alex (not love but with Ruke implied maybe) where the guys are arguing and Reggie feels bad because you know.. the whole family thing. And they feel bad because when they approach him he gasps. I don't know if you feel comfortable writing it but if so thank you 💞

Thanks so much for this request! The guys are so much fun to write, I did add Julie to this though, I hope that was okay. The fic is under the cut, it got too long otherwise, lmao. :D

Enjoy!

~R

Summary: Caught in the middle of a fight between Alex and Luke, Reggie tries to control his emotions, but he’s quickly reminded of the times when his parents fought.

It was like the guys thought Reggie was dumb, or something… which he knew was further from the truth. But lately… There was this tension in the air during their practices recently, like someone pulled a string connecting his friends and it was pulled as taught as possible. The whole week Alex and Luke had been fighting about something, and their argument had finally hit it’s boiling point. Reggie could only smile apologetically at Julie, who sat at the piano with a confused expression on her face. “Look Alex, all I’m saying is if you played the rhythm differently it’ll make the song sound a million times better!” Luke exclaimed when they stopped the song halfway through for the hundredth time. Alex’s face went red with anger, and Reggie sighed. Sliding his bass off his shoulder he rested it on the stand as he prepared to be the mediator between his two friends for the millionth time. They tried to keep the fighting for when he wasn’t in the room, but Reggie could always tell when people were angry. When he was younger he convinced himself it was a superpower, but it was just a side effect from being cast aside as a kid by his parents when they fought. He was only able to watch helplessly as Alex stuck his tongue out at Luke and shouted,

“Maybe you should try to learn how to play the drums then! See how quickly that ends!” Reggie winced at the loud volume. They weren’t just fighting about music now, something bigger was at hand here… and it wasn’t exactly something Luke was ready to talk to Julie about yet. Reggie poofed across the room to sit next to Julie just as Luke angrily threw something at Alex’s kit. Alex rolled his eyes,

“Oh real mature Luke!” Alex retorted as Luke stared playing his music at one of the loudest volume options. Julie winced at the volume, and Reggie couldn’t help but tense at how angry everyone suddenly got. Everything was just so fucking loud, he couldn’t even focus enough to poof out of the garage. Turning to Julie Reggie admitted,

“You should probably go.” Luke and Alex switched from attempting to out-play each other and reverted back to yelling again. Julie shot a concerned look at Luke, whose face was quickly becoming a deep shade of red.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can help,” Julie offered, god bless her soul. None of them deserved her and they all knew it. She was their saving grace, and she’d do anything for them just as they’d do anything for her. Reggie knew Luke wasn’t out to her yet though, to be honest, he wasn’t out to her yet either. If Luke and Alex were fighting about their past relationship she shouldn’t have to find out about the three of them like this. Shaking his head he said,

“We love you Jules, you know that… this is just…” Reggie trailed off, and the two of them ducked to dodge a binder Alex threw across the studio.

“Personal?” Julie guessed as she and Reggie looked back in time to see Alex walk out from behind his drums, pushing at Luke’s chest. Reggie nodded and she sighed, “alright just…” Julie hesitated then put a hand on Reggie’s shoulder, “just let me know if you need anything alright? I know you told me your parents used to fight…” Reggie gave her a small smile then returned her hug, squeezing her waist. “Everything’s going to be okay, yeah?” Julie asked with a shaky laugh, Reggie nodded, unable to bring himself to say anything. With one last concerned look to Luke Julie backed out of the garage, closing the doors behind her. Reggie inhaled, then realized his right hand was starting to shake, a tell tale sign he was about to have a panic attack.

“Fuck,” Reggie said as his stomach twisted. He knocked himself off the piano bench, landing on the floor with a thunk. “Guys!” Reggie called out, trying to get them to stop fighting. He knew they didn’t hate each other, they would never be able to no matter what they said or how hard they tried. He pawed at Alex’s shirt, which was suddenly closer than Reggie remembered it being. Alex shoved Reggie off though, and he found himself back on the floor, stuck between his family arguing with each other just like his parents used to. He fell back on his old plan for survival when he got caught up in an argument, he tried to run. He regretted sending Julie away, she’d probably do a better job of calming Luke down than he did. Reggie took a shaky breath then curled his right hand into a fist, balling his hand usually helped lessen it’s already very shaky shaky-ness. 

“Why the fuck do you care if I still hang out with Willie?” Alex yelled over Luke’s voice. Reggie watched from the ground as Luke ran a hand through his now very sweaty hair.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” Luke roared back, and Reggie curled his legs into his chest,   his pooling tears started to fall down his cheeks. It was just one fight, it wasn't the end of the world. It wasn’t the end of the band, they wouldn’t break up the band over Luke being a petty ex would they? Reggie tried to pull himself to his feet, in a sad attempt at getting between his friends. Alex cackled,

“Oh and you do? What, am I supposed to wait and be your rebound while you’re busy trying to get with Julie?! How do you think Reggie feels huh? You casted us aside the second someone better comes along! Does she even know you’re bisexual yet?!” Luke roared in anger as he pulled back his fist and swung it low. Reggie collapsed as he sprawled across the floor taking the hit meant for Alex, he could feel a bruise starting to form on his cheek.

“Oh shit,” Luke swore as he saw Reggie hit the ground. And just like that the two composed themselves, the tension disappearing. Maybe Reggie should get punched more often… Luke tried to check Reggie’s cheek, but he winced away from his touch. A look of hurt crossed Luke’s face but Reggie didn’t focus on it for too long. “Reg, I’m so sorry,” Luke said as an apology. Alex shoved Luke aside and Reggie let him get close enough to determine he was just bruised, and not concussed. Luke scooted so he was closer to Reggie, and pulled his legs into a criss-crossed position. Their knees were just barely touching. Alex fell to the floor in front of them and exchanged a look with Luke.

“Reggie,” Alex said slowly, like he was afraid of him. “We’re -” Reggie cut them off with a huff,

“ - save it.” He sniffled and wiped the tears falling down his uninjured cheek. “I know…” He took a shaky breath, “I know you guys aren’t angry at me, and I know you aren’t really angry at each other either…” Reggie trailed off and let Luke slowly wrap his arm around Reggie’s shoulders. “I guess it just reminded me of my parents.” Alex fell forward and hugged them both,

“I’m so, so sorry.” He said through his own tears. Luke nodded,

“Me too Reg. We never should have let it get that far. I just… I can’t believe how much the world has changed since we’ve lived in it… how much we’ve changed. You know we love you right?” Luke asked, concern laced in his voice. Reggie nodded as he choked back another round of tears,

“I know, hard to forget if you remind me whenever we see each other.” Alex let out a soft laugh, then ran his hands through Reggie’s hair. Reggie relaxed at the touch and leaned into Luke’s chest, Alex sitting across from them. “We really should probably tell Julie…” Reggie said as he let Luke pull him closer. He closed his eyes as he let Luke run his guitar-calloused fingers through Reggie’s hair. Alex nodded, pressing a soft kiss at the top of Reggie’s head. Reggie hummed appreciatively then pulled him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. When he was done with Alex, he turned around and did Luke the same favor.

“Next time we see her we will,” Luke promised. Just as he said it though, the doors of the garage opened to reveal a very concerned Julie Molina.

“Is everything okay?” Julie asked, walking into the studio without asking for permission. “Did you guys figure it out? Oh my god Reggie! What happened to your face? Do you want ice? Do ghosts even need ice? What about painkillers? I’m pretty sure we still have some Motrin from a few weeks ago when Carlos twisted his ankle.” Reggie glanced at Alex for help. The drummer held up both of his hands to get Julie to stop talking.

“Hold on, too many questions at once. First, Luke punched him… by accident. We were both being petty bitches and needed to get over ourselves. We’re sorry you had to see that.” Luke protested,

“Excuse you Alexander,” he said dropping Alex’s full name. “I am not a petty bitch.” Reggie whacked the back of his head and Luke winced in pain. With a grin Reggie said,

“Yes you are.” He turned to Julie, who at this point, had joined them all on the floor in the middle of the studio. She cupped his cheek, trying to determine if he was okay. Julie frowned when she saw the size of the bruise forming. Reggie stopped her before she could turn to Luke and slap him across the face.

“Hey, I’m fine! Jules, it’s all good, I promise!” Reggie said as Alex caught her arm. Julie seemed to realize he was telling the truth, then she put her arm down.

“What were you guys going to tell me?” Julie asked, curiosity in her voice. Luke hesitated before reaching out for Reggie’s hand, interlocking their fingers. Julie’s right eyebrow rose comically high, and if he wasn’t so stressed Reggie would’ve laughed. Alex cleared his throat and let the pin drop. 

“Julie,” Alex said in a way that told Julie he wasn’t joking, “we’re all together.” Julie’s eyes widened,

“Oh… oh… you know, that actually makes a lot of sense.” To their surprise she punched her fist in the air in victory, “Flynn owes me twenty bucks!” She exclaimed.

“Hold on, you bet on us dating each other?” Reggie asked, honestly surprised. Julie nodded as a grin stretched across her face.

“Of course we did. Anyone with half a brain cell can see how good you three are to each other. Wait, what was that whole Willie thing then?” She asked, the question heavy in the air. Luke spoke up,

“So you aren't…” he hesitated and ran a hand through his hair, obviously hesitant. “You’re not angry at us for keeping it a secret?” Luke asked quietly. Julie gave them all an understanding smile,

“Guys, I don’t know how you haven’t figured it out yet. Flynn and I are dating.” Reggie’s jaw dropped to the floor,

“You’re both what?” He asked, about to ask a million more questions. Julie held up a finger to stop him,

“Let’s get at least one thing straight here alright?” She asked, and suddenly Reggie wanted to hide behind Luke. “If one of you hurts each other in any possible way, I will find out, and I will find a way to kill myself a ghost, is that understood?” Reggie, Alex, and Luke all frantically nodded their heads.

“Yeah Jules, we’d never think about hurting each other!” Reggie exclaimed as Julie launched herself at them. Reggie let out a squawk of surprise as Luke and Alex dog-piled on top of them in fits of laughter.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp reggie #jatp alex #luke patterson #julie molina #angst #luke pattersonxreggie #bisexual luke patterson #bisexual reggie #bisexual julie molina #yes #she and Flynn bet on if the boys were dating #fight me

[nctzennbae]

The Lost Promise (sungchan oneshot)

total word count: 3255 

status: complete <33

genre: drama, romance

: sungchan !! reader’s name ^^

{ hello! this is my first post here so pls give it sum luv }

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you sighed as you flopped yourself on your bed, tears falling down on your duvet. you can't live like this, you can't live like trash. you decided to call your best friend, Sungchan. Sungchan, the one who gives smile on your face, also frown on your face.

Sungchan : [ what up ]

Y/n : [ can we meet? ]

Sungchan : [ oh haha silly, not right now ]

Y/n : [ why? what's wrong? ]

Sungchan : [ I have classes ]

those were his last words and he hangs. you sighed and wiped your tears away and sat down. you wore your shoes again and left home. you went outside and everybody is just outside. cars horning, lots of people talking, vendors selling their goods. you know you're already in Seoul when you encounter these things. you decided to go to the comic shop near your dorm.

going to the comic shop is the only thing to make you forget about Sungchan.

you like Sungchan for years now, it all started when he was a new student.

+++

"we have a new student, juniors!" the teacher called everyone's attention when someone who's tall af entered the classroom

"meet Jung Sungchan" the teacher told everybody making the guy bow

+++

you smiled because of the thought 'sungchan'. but you suddenly remember Hyorin.

"that bitch..." you whispered under your breath and shook your head

you let everything go, thoughts of Sungchan and Hyorin by going to the shelf, scanning every book. your eyes landed on the book "Clownery". you decided to get it and looked at it.

+++

"Byun Y/n... you're such a clown" Hyorin pushed your shoulder, her friends laughing at what she is doing

"can you stop now, Hyorin?" your best friend, Yoona tried to stop them

"you both make a circus" Hyorin said and laughed

"clownery..." she said and leaned near your face and spitted

+++

you giggled and went back to do your own business. after 23 minutes of looking, you finally found the perfect book for you, 'The Lost Promise'. you tilted your head, "this book is familiar..." you talked to yourself.

you got no time to grumble, you got the book, paid for it and went back to your dorm. you threw the book on your bed and changed into comfy clothes until your bff, Doyeon called

|||

Doyeon : [ hey oh god can you come here to school? ]

Y/n : [ why what's wrong? ]

Doyeon : [ just come geez ]

Y/n : [ fine ]

you hang and smacked your lips. you really just removed your make up and changed your clothes. now you have to do it again.

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you saw Doyeon and approached her, she looks so messy and weird, you wonder what happened to her. you were about to ask her when she pulled you into the library. "what's up?" you said and she showed you her palm as a sign of wait. she's catching her breath until she spoke up. "i need help for the upcoming finals" she said while smiling. you sighed and rolled your eyes.

Doyeon is your best friend ever since you moved to Seoul. You met her at school, when someone is making fun of you. you consider her as your sister too.

|||

it is almost 5:37pm, she is getting sleepier and sleepier. you're teaching her math and chemistry since she is weak with those subjects. you just kept on writing formulas and talking when you felt someone's head fell into your shoulder. it is Doyeon who is sleeping. you smiled.

you started fixing her things, all notes on her binder when all of a sudden, her mom and her father came inside the library searching for something. you waved your hand to get their attention. their gaze landed on you and Doyeon. they ran towards you and Doyeon. "we'll take care of her, go now, you must be tired too" her dad told you and gave you a pat on the head. "thank you so much Y/n" her mom hugged you and you smiled

you went outside the library. a dark hallway greeted you, with lights that are almost running out of energy, blinking. you sighed and walked away. until someone held your wrist and pulled you. you started to panic and tried to pull away but you can't. "help!!" you screamed and your voice echoed thru the hallway

"no one can hear you, honey" the guy said, making you freak out more. you cried out loud, but he doesn't care. until he ran and pulled you. after some minutes, the both of you are out of the campus and he started to loosen his grip on you

"you really don't recognize... my voice?" he said and removed his black face mask. "oh... Sungchan" you said in a cold voice. you wiped your tears away. you had this straight face all through out until he spoke "can't tell if you're angry" he said and giggled because of your pouting face

-

flashback:

your class is finally done, you decided to go to the music room to play the piano to relieve your stress because of school. and so you played the piano that echoed thru the whole room. not until you heard music playing from the dance practice room which is beside the music room

you stop playing the piano and decided to leave the music room. you grabbed your bag and left. you peeked thru the door.

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Sungchan and Mina dancing...

(ps: not mina from twice nor from gugudan so pls)

your world just shuts down in a second. you can't feel a thing. you didn't know what to do. you shook your head to snap you back from reality. they are both dancing as if they are "couples". you wanted to cry. cry so bad. you walked away, tears are rolling down on your cheek. you lowered your head incase someone you know would bump into you, seeing you cry.

you aren't known for being weak. for being a crybaby. people recognize you because you don't care what other people think of you. little do they know, you are insecure, because of Mina. Sungchan's smile is always beautiful and sincere when he is with Mina. you envy Mina. so much.

She is pretty, talented, and famous. Unlike you, who is known because of your knowledge and academics. you wanted to open up to Doyeon, but you can't since they are friends too. you wanted to cry all the time. why are you even alive?

you went back to your dorm, you sighed as you flopped yourself on your bed, tears falling down on your duvet. you can't live like this, you can't live like trash.

end of flashback :)

"i am not angry, so stop" you said and was about to leave but he grabbed your wrist, making you face him again. "you are" he said and pulled you closer. you let go of his hand and turned around, walking away. as you walk, only hearing your foot steps on the wet grass, you heard a girly voice

"did you wait for me?" a voice made you look up and you recognized that voice in just a second, Mina. Lee Mina... your tears quickly escaped your eyes. "oh, y/n?" she called you and you stopped walking. "oh y/n!! it's Mina! Mina-ssi" she said and you turned around slowly, showing her your fake smile. "oh, it's late now! should we take you home-" you cut her off by responding immediately "no, i am fine" you said and smiled, she smiled back and you turned around and started walking slowly again.

until you heard their trails fade, hearing Sungchan giggle and Mina talking about her day. your eyes formed a waterfall, but you smiled because of Sungchan's giggle. your smile fades as you realize why he is happy.

because of Mina.

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you opened the door quickly and fell on your knees. you started crying heavily. you felt your phone vibrated and you checked the caller i.d, it's Sungchan. "why do you even have to fucking call me..." you talked to yourself like a creep. "you're driving me crazy as hell, Jung Sungchan. I hate you". you cried and bumped your head on the door

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you saw Doyeon, she ran to you and hugged you. "good morning Y/n!" she greeted you a good morning, you smiled weakly. she noticed you're not fine "are you good?" she asked you nodded. the both of you went to the classroom. the first thing you saw is Mina and Sungchan, sitting together. you quickly looked away and tried to play it cool. stopping your tears from falling

the both of you sat down and suddenly, your tears disappeared. somehow, you're now numb. you can't feel anything. the thing is Sungchan never told you that Mina and him started dating. But you can't get enough. You decided to focus on the lesson for today.

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"wait the class is finished?" you asked Doyeon and she laughed. "it is already 4pm girly" she told you and you let out an "aaahhh..." as a sign that you got it. "oh gotta go" she said while smiling, after her words, she left you all alone at the rooftop. you watch her leave and sighed. you felt your tears falling down. you wiped it immediately and breathed in

you looked at your watch and you wanted to go home already. you were about to leave the rooftop when Doyeon surprised you. "oh you're back?" you asked her and she is panting. you looked at her concerned, "can you go with me?" she asked you and you sighed "where?" you replied in a lazy tone.

"it's Mina's birthday today" she told you in a 'are you serious' face. "aren't you invited?" she asked you and you shook your head. as if she would invite you lol."check your messages" she asks you to check your messages and so you did

Lee Mina : [ hello, Y/n! It is my birthday tomorrow, can you go to my party? Sungchan told me you're not answering his calls, he'll tell you to come to my party that night and to tell you about something important. But I am the one who wanted to invite you like, really. haha! you're invited, please come! Doyeon will come too ^__^ ]

you turned off your phone and looked at Doyeon. "attend for me" you told her and she stomped her foot. "you're invited, so you need to come" she said making you smack your lips. "i'll pick you up later" she said, you were about to say something but she ran away immediately, making you sigh

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Doyeon : [ I'll arrive at 7:30pm ]

Y/n : [ okay okay ]

Doyeon : [ see you, girly! ]

she said and you hang. you looked at the clock and it is already 7pm. So you decided to wear a black dress that is silk, and black stiletto heels with an ankle strap to pair with your black silk dress. you grabbed your black sling bag and put some make up on that would match the black outfit. you blow-dried your hair and curled it.

after getting ready, you heard a car, horning right infront of your dorm, you checked your window and it is Doyeon's car. you went out and saw Doyeon waiting for you outside her car, wearing a black chiffon dress with high heels on

"damn you fine" she looked at you from head to toe, making you giggle. you both went inside the car, buckling up. "is the event happening at her house?" you asked Doyeon and she nodded.

after some minutes, you guys arrived at Mina's house. you breathed out and shook your hands to let the nervousness out. you went out of the car, feeling your tummy started to melt and feeling weak. you felt like you need to go to the bathroom but you know it is only because you are nervous

Doyeon rang the doorbell and Mina opened the door, revealing her in her black party dress with a high slit on it. pairing with ankle strap heels. "happy birthday" you greeted her in a not so happy tone and she smiled widely and hugged you.

you didn't know what to feel, she seems so nice but... why tho?

she hugged Doyeon too and she let you guys come inside her house. there were a lot of people in Mina's house. she told you to sit down near the second table and so you did. her house is pretty big, the fact that she lives alone. you sat down, feeling blue because Doyeon is with Mina. Doyeon is kinda famous, making her talk to other people too at the party.

thank goodness there was this uwu guy named Park Jisung. he noticed that you're alone so he decided to sit beside you. His smile is so precious, his eye smile is cute, making you giggle. He is a shy boy, his brother is a friend of Mina that's why he is at the party.

the both of you are not awkward at all. you guys had a deep conversation at first, knowing that you are older than this guy. "i am just 19″ he said making you gasp. "wow I am already 21″ you said making him laugh. "it's fine, should I call you noona?" he said and you shook your head. "no, it's fine, call me by my name" you said and smiled. you guys were having a cute conversation when you hear Mina saying "Sungchan! Finally you're here!"

those words of her made you look in their direction, Mina is clinging onto Sungchan's arm making everyone cheer for them

"are you guys dating?" "wow you both look good!" these are the words you kept on hearing. you smiled and faced Jisung back. "they look good together, don't they?" Jisung said, making you nod. "they are, indeed" you said, showing Jisung your smile, which made him say "wow you're even single right now? crazy..." he said making you giggle.

They started giving out drinks, you're just looking at Jisung, who is drinking iced tea since his brother, Park Jihoon asked you to watch Jisung out since he can't drink drinks with alcohol yet. you chuckled

you just kept talking with Jisung when Mina visited you guys' table. "how is everything going in here?" she smiled. "fine" you replied without looking at her. "ooh, are you fine?" she looked at you and laid her hand on your shoulder. you looked at her, making eye to eye contact. "can we talk?" you asked her. she was about to speak but you preceded. "privately". you said making her nod out of confusion.

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the both of you went out, you wasted no time and said what you wanted to say

"Mina, I know, I don't know if I am supposed to say this but, please take care of Sungchan. take care of that innocent guy. let him walk you home, let him buy you food, love him and never hurt him, please" you said as a tear escaped from both of your eyes

"are you crazy?" she laughed

"yes. the thought of you and sungchan made me crazy. the night when he walked you home, it drove me crazy. that is why i didn't answer his calls, either your texts. i was so hurt, mina. you don't know how much I like that guy, and i have no idea why i can't let him go" you said making Mina giggle

"you know, y/n, don't think that I did make friends with you just to hurt you. i didn't plan it. i was just really close to Sungchan. I know, you saw us from the dancing practice room last time, right?" she said and you nodded, guilty

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"we are not dating, y/n."

you didn't know what to feel, should you believe Mina, or not? those words made you feel confused. "w-what?" you looked away as you processed what she just said, making her laugh and nod

"how would we date if he likes you-" she widens her eyes because of the sudden realization. she covered her mouth as you widen your eyes

"hold up..." you said making her laugh hard. "fine, i shouldn't be saying this but, he does like you" she said making you shook your head. "if you're saying this just to make me feel better, then fuck you" you said making her laugh her ass out.

"the night when he called you, he was about to tell you his feelings towards you, remember my text? i told you he want to say something important to you, my dear"she said making you so confused. you shook your head. "then find out for yourself". she said and grabbed your wrist, "let's go inside" she said as you walked with her, going inside the house

you guys entered the house, seeing Sungchan approaching the both of you. "are you guys okay?" he asked and the both of you nodded. Mina suddenly left the conversation for you to make a move.

"can we talk, privately?" you asked Sungchan and he nodded. he opened the door and let you go out first.

you guys went for a short walk when Sungchan stopped. "what is that you wanted to say?" you both continued to walk. you suddenly let out a sigh and cried. he heard you sniffing and so he looked at you "why are you crying?" he asked you with much concern in his voice, making you laugh

"you're my best friend, right?" you asked him and he nodded "of course" he smiled. "Sungchan, are you numb?" you asked him, making him stop. "what do you mean?" he faced you, tilting his head, hiding his big gulp. "how can you not feel?" you said making him say "huh.."

"or you're just pretending that you never knew" you said making him narrow his eyebrows. "you know i can't understand you-" you cut him off "i like you, isn't it obvious?" you cried. "i know, you will never like me back so, let's just go inside and pretend this never happened". you tried to walk away but suddenly Sungchan grabbed your arm making you turn around

by the time you turned around, he leaned his face near yours and said "goodness, how come you didn't know i was feeling the same way?" he asked you and gave you a peck on the lip. you were dumbfounded making him laugh

"should I do it again to snap you back to reality?" he said and smirked. you shook your head, making him say "cute"

you both went inside Mina's house, Mina approached the both of you. "remember this day, okay? this will be you guys' monthsary or even anniversary!" she said in a happy tone making you and Sungchan laugh

"shut up, Mina" sungchan said and held your hand

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"i love you..." he whispered to your ear.

#nct #neo culture technology #neo culture tech on my mind #nctzen #kpop #kpopff #fanfic #fanfiction #alternativeworld #au #nctau #nctff #sungchan #jungsungchan #sungchanxx #sungchanff #sungchanau #nctzenshie #filozen #romance #funny

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 19)

22 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! After a good while away I am back with another chapter of Lost Souls and Reveries. As has happened in the past, I went to write the chapter I had briefly outlined only to realize I couldn’t accomplish everything in one installment. There’s still quite a bit of story left I have to incorporate, and some loose ends I have to tie up, and hopefully everyone can follow along. For clarity’s sake, just know that the bulk of this chapter is told from Killian’s POV, and at the end there’s another POV. No spoilers, but more will become clear by the end of this this chapter and the next. Also it’s kind of an intense scene that we end on, so for my more light-hearted readers feel free to skip and ask me what happens. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and hope you all enjoy!

“Do we really have to go? It’s not too late to bail. We could go to the beach, or a run in the woods. Ooh, maybe we could get a root canal! That would be great compared to this.”

Killian chuckled at Emma’s commentary as they walked along the lane that lead to her parents’ home. They were en route to a ‘wedding brainstorm session’ with Emma’s mother, and though Killian had known Mary Margaret Nolan for some time now, he wondered if either her or Emma could really be ready for what was to come. For the next few hours, Mary Margaret was undoubtedly going to present them with roughly one million tiny questions about their impending wedding, very few of which would seem to really matter. For Killian, there were only three things he cared about. The first was that he wanted to marry Emma. The second was that he wanted to marry her soon. And the third was that he wanted her to be happy with the wedding. He didn’t give a damn about anything else. If Emma wanted it, she would have it, and that was the end of that. Unfortunately though, Killian knew one thing Emma did not want, and it was all of this over the top planning. His mate was hardly high maintenance, and though she’d talked to him casually about some things she might like for their special day, they were simple requests that mostly aligned with classic traditions.

“Sorry, love. I’m afraid we’ve no dental disasters in our future for the time being.”

“So the beach then?” Emma asked hopefully and Killian smiled as he shook his head. He hated to deny her anything, but at the same time he knew Emma was only teasing. She’d given her word that they would come today, and his love was a woman of character. She never broke a promise, and she always abided by her commitments.

“I promise you, Emma, that as soon as this is done, I will make it up to you.”

He pulled her into his arms as they stopped walking, and instinctively he moved her hair back to get a better look at her admiring her effortless beauty. He could see that her jokes right now were coming from a place of stress, and he meant what he said. Tonight, when all of this was done, he had a plan in place. He’d make them dinner, run her a bath, and then spend the next handful of hours ravishing her so thoroughly that all memory of wedding annoyances would flee her mind.  His body hardened at the thought of what he would do with his gorgeous mate, and a low growl emanated from his chest before he could even think to stop it.

“Oh really?” she asked, her initial surprise at his claim soon giving way to lust and want and need that burned hot in her green eyes.

“Aye. We’ll have no wasted days, love. And since this first part might be fatiguing, we’ll have to see to it that the rest of the day is exactly what we want.”

Though they were out in the open and just a few steps from her parents’ home, Killian couldn’t resist running his hands along Emma’s body, and he reveled in the moment where she shivered, as a thrill of anticipation rolled through her. Her eyes dilated, and she wet her lips absentmindedly, and with such an invitation he couldn’t help but steal a taste of his own. When their lips met, he nearly groaned out in relief. Yet though it was painful to break apart so soon, he eventually had to pull back so that they could face the morning’s responsibilities.

“Okay, you win. But the second we can get away with leaving, we’re out of here, got it?” He nodded, prompting a light laugh from Emma before her eyes took on a thoughtful quality. “If we’re lucky maybe we can round up everyone else and have a cookout or a bonfire, then we can get to whatever it is you’ve got planned, which I’m sure will be perfect.”

Killian readily agreed, knowing that as much as Emma loved him, she also loved her friends who were more like family than anything else. He could never resent that, in fact, he embraced it, and he was just as eager to see them and Liam and Ruby. A night with their friends would be well deserved after all of this, he was sure, and he was glad for their new plan as Emma slipped her hand in his again and they made their way to her parent’s house. But as they walked up the front pathway, they heard a booming noise come from the backyard. It sounded like a huge fuse system had just been detonated, followed swiftly by Mary Margaret’s excited voice:

“Oh, David! Isn’t it wonderful? It looks just like how I pictured it!”

“Oh Jeez, better see what she’s got going,” Emma said, pulling him around the house, and though Killian smiled at his soon to be wife’s sarcasm, his smile dropped as soon as they stepped in the backyard.

“What the bloody hell is that?” he whispered and Emma barked out a laugh. But it wasn’t a laugh based in humor. Rather, it was the sound of someone so startled and confounded that they were becoming a little bit manic. Killian could hardly blame her for the reaction.

Because there, staring them in the face, was a light display that was… well, fucking gigantic to put it mildly. It was taller than he and Emma, and it had their names on it along with about a hundred hearts. It was gaudy and loud, and Killian couldn’t imagine there was a building within twenty miles that was suited for such a massive sign. For the moment though it was perched up against the Nolan’s barn, and Killian just couldn’t wrap his mind around why or how it had even gotten there.

“Please tell me you didn’t buy that, Mom,” Emma said, loud enough for her parents to realize they were back here. David, for his part, looked almost amused, and most certainly relieved at Emma’s comment, but Mary Margaret seemed downright perplexed.

“Well no, it’s just a sample. Your grandmother thought it would be best to hold off on any actual purchases. The letters are interchangeable, and the company brought it over for us to take a look with just a small deposit. But it’s so beautiful. I mean, who doesn’t want their name in lights on such a special day?”

“Mom this is supposed to be a small, classic wedding, not a blockbuster movie premiere,” Emma stressed, and Killian was glad they were on the same page, but he knew they’d hit a wall when Emma’s mother’s face fell. She looked genuinely hurt, and Killian knew that would only bring pain to Emma.

“You’re onto something with the lights, though,” Killian said, squeezing Emma’s hand in a sign of reassurance when her head whipped around to look at him. “But maybe something smaller? Twinkle lights would be perfect, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God, you’re so right!” Mary Margaret exclaimed, shaking her head at the sign now as if she’d only just realized how horrendous it was. “Fairy lights would be amazing! Like stars, or fireflies. Oh, there’s so much we could do with those! I’ll call the company right now and let them know.”

“Mary Margaret, maybe that could wait?” David offered calmly. “Emma and Killian are here now. It’s probably best to ask them all your questions first.”

“Right. Good thinking. Anyway, I have some more things to show you guys…”

And boy did she ever. It might have been normal for Emma’s mother to produce a binder with ideas for her only daughter’s special day. But one apparently didn’t do the visions Mary Margaret had justice. She pulled up a large box in a surprising show of strength for someone her size, and from the view alone Killian could see at least six. Given the space inside the box, he would be there were at least a dozen binders in total, and when he looked at David to silently inquire if this was all, Emma’s father gave a slight shake of his head. Bloody hell, they would be here all week at this rate!

Over the next few hours the constant stream of questions and decisions remained ever-flowing. There was no slowing down and no breaks in sight, and Killian for one felt his energy waning. Emma was clearly having the same problem, and with each new query, she leaned against him a little more, her face showing signs that she was more and more fatigued. Indeed, the only person with the stamina for this kind of festive frenzy was his soon to be mother in law. No one else even came close, but none of them had the chance to get off the ride. It just kept going on and on and on.

“So I spoke with the florists and after a little cajoling I finally got them to guarantee any and all arrangements we deem fit. At first they tried to tell me that certain flowers weren’t ‘in season,’” Emma’s mother explained while making skeptical air quotes. “Which is, of course, ridiculous. But eventually they came around. I just need to know what you guys think. I’ve got ten design options for you both to consider -,”

“Wait, ten?!” Emma asked, interrupting her mother who had pulled out her forth binder of the day, aptly labeled ‘Flower Ideas.’ “Mom, you can’t be serious. This is so much work, just for flowers for one day?”

“They’re not just for one day, Emma,” her mother said, sounding almost wounded at the insinuation. “This is going to be one of the most magical days of our life!”

Emma’s father chose that moment to return with water for all of them, after excusing himself from a very lengthy conversation about table settings, and though Killian could see that he wanted to laugh at his wife’s unending enthusiasm, he held it in, and instead cleared his throat and gave Mary Margaret a knowing look.

“I think you meant Emma and Killian’s life, right honey?”

“Well I actually meant…” Mary Margaret looked liable to contradict that statement, but then she read her husband’s face and understanding seemed to dawn on her. “Uh, right, absolutely. It’s your day, one hundred percent. But what you’re forgetting Emma is that while we might only get a few days with the flowers, the pictures are forever.”

“And the memories,” David agreed, coming to sit by his wife and smiling as he took her hand. “No matter how much time passes, it will always be with you. The day you say ‘I do’ to the person who means the most is one of the best you’ll ever know.”

It was heartwarming to see Emma’s parents be so much in love all these years after they had found each other and promised each other forever. Undoubtedly, their love was strong, so much so that Killian believed it rivaled what it felt like to have a fated mate. Who knew? Maybe they actually were mates, but they just didn’t have that precise bond because David’s shifter self had always remained separate from his human soul. Either way, Killian looked to Emma’s parents as an excellent example of what true love and commitment looked like. They were a partnership that was patient but still passionate. Sometimes they acted like kids still, and there had been more than one moment where Emma was embarrassed at how in love her parents still seemed to be, but they had the beautiful benefit of age and a life spent happily together. They were tied together in the best of ways, both standing tall alone, but shining brighter as a couple.

“Okay that is admittedly very sweet, Dad, but you’re not distracting me from this. She just said she has ten choices. As in double digits! And I’m willing to bet anything that’s just for one part of the wedding. There are definitely multiple arrangements, and these ten don’t even cover those, do they?”

Killian bit back a groan when Emma’s mother nodded, but it helped that she at least had the sense to look guilty for the first time all day. For Emma though, this seemed to be a breaking point. Killian felt her tension rise to a new high, and she stood in her chair suddenly. They’d been holding hands throughout this, and she seemed like she might let go, but Killian didn’t want that. Instead he rose with her, and when she looked at him he silently conveyed that whatever she wanted to do, he would back her up. She looked relieved and then directed her frustration back at her mother.

“Look, Mom, I know you mean well, and I love you, I really really do, but this is just getting ridiculous. We’ve been here for hours, answered a hundred questions, and I don’t think we’ve even made a dent in your planning. At this rate I’d honestly rather go to city hall today, with no muss and no fuss.” Despite the fact that her mother audibly gasped and raised a hand to her chest dramatically, Emma continued on. “Because it’s not really about the flowers or the lighting or the silverware, Mom. This wedding is about Killian and I spending the rest of our lives together.”

Emma’s words filled Killian with pride. Yes, he knew Emma’s mother would be hurt in some ways by the sentiment, but it made him happy to know Emma felt as he did. The wedding itself wasn’t the focal part of all of this. It was the marriage and the union between them that mattered most. In his heart, they were more than married already. Mates were forever, in this life, and any lives hereafter. But he did want the traditional human component too. He wanted everyone to know he belonged to Emma, and she belonged to him, but he agreed that the rest of the details, as nice as they may be in the end, didn’t hold nearly as much weight in his eyes at all. Still, as stern as Emma was being right now, he also knew that city hall wedding would never happen. This would all get figured out. It was just a matter of when and how.

“Perhaps we could just take a moment. I think a walk would do us some good,” Killian offered, looking to David for back up. Clearly a little space could be of some use, and David immediately understood.

“I think that’s a great idea. And we’ll be here, whenever you two are ready.”

Emma nodded in agreement, and the two of them set out farther behind the house where Emma had grown up. Despite the agitation that had just been facing them, there was no denying the beauty of this home. As he gazed upon the garden and the lush green land all around, Killian thought of what it must have been like to grow up here. Emma had such good things to say about so much of her childhood, and knowing her as he did, Killian could just picture how it all was. She’d have been here, happy, and peaceful and carefree, reading her favorite stories under the willow tree, running around with her little brother in the open field, and imagining whole new worlds with Anna and Elsa. Though he’d seen pictures, Killian didn’t need them to recall some of those memories. Their being mates meant their souls were intertwined, and so Killian could look upon this place and practically feel the happiness that his love experienced here. It calmed him to be in such close proximity to good feelings, even as the aggravation Emma carried from before still lingered.

“I hate to be angry with her,” Emma admitted, when they’d come to stop under the giant willow that defined this back-yard space. Underneath the hanging greenery, they were sheltered away. A natural curtain separated them from the world, and that barrier seemed to help Emma speak the thoughts that troubled her mind. “I love my Mom, and I love the life she and my Dad game me here. I never wanted for anything. Not for a long, long time.”

Emma’s eyes softened as she looked around this spacious, canopied hide away and Killian followed suit. The tree was old and majestic. It sang a soothing song when the wind cut through the leaves, and it was cool here, shaded by an entity that signaled strength and peace. It was immediately apparent that Emma was familiar with this spot, and Killian imagined she must have come here countless times before. Picturing a young Emma automatically made Killian think of their future children, and more specifically the child on the way. Not that he’d ever really forgotten, but still the rush of remembrance coursed through him in the best of ways. Instinctively, his hand come over where their child was now growing, and Emma hummed out a sound of contentment as her own hand came to cover his.

“There’s no denying that your parents have given you all that they could, Emma, and I hazard to guess that that is what your mother wants now too.”

“I know that. I do, Killian. But the problem is that when we use up all this time on these tiny, seemingly unimportant things, I feel like it’s a waste. Spending time with my mother is a blessing, I know, and there are parts of a wedding we should share, and will share that will bring us both joy, but this roaming around in the weeds thinking about party favors and which specific brand of tea lights to use isn’t that. Time is precious, life isn’t guaranteed, and I want all of us to make the most of every moment we have. Even if I do believe we’ll all have years of them to come, I just…”

Emma trailed off, her eyes casting away from his as she struggled to find the words. Again Killian felt the intensity of their mental link together, and he knew, without having to ask, that she was thinking of his mother. Time was the one thing his mother never had enough of, and knowing that life could be cut short like that made Killian of the same mindset. There was no need to be wasteful. If they could all be happy, then they should chase that, and since his happiness was irrevocably tied up in Emma’s, Killian was determined to see his mate made brighter.

“You just don’t want to live with regret. You don’t want to wake up one day and think that you should have done something different. You want to realize what’s most important while we’re living it instead of after the fact.”

“Exactly,” Emma said, closing her eyes and sighing into him, taking comfort in his instinctual reaction to wrap her up in his arms. “God why can’t you just do the talking? You’re better at it than I am.”

Killian chuckled at that, and when Emma opened her eyes again, they were filled with humor of their own, because they both knew that would never work. He might sometimes have some insights into how to turn a phrase, but between the two of them it was Emma who often saw the way forward. She was as brilliant as she was beautiful, and she had many opinions, all of which he cherished. Still, he understood her meaning now, and he tried his best to offer some solution.

“I think the best way forward is to make your boundaries clear, love. If you only have so much you want to engage with, then that’s what we tell her, and maybe she’ll be even more pleased to plan the rest of it herself.” Emma considered his suggestion, but still looked skeptical. “Of course we would be clear that there are limits.”

“Uh yeah, that’s a must,” Emma replied and Killian smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple as she leaned back against him.

“But your mother, at the end of the day, is a reasonable woman. She knows you have a lot going on. You have work, your friends, the baby…”

“And you,” Emma whispered, looking back to him with a smile.

“Aye, and me. Always.”

The promise was one he had made countless times and meant with all his heart, but this time it moved Emma to a degree that she shifted in his arms, straddling him where he sat before she pulled him in for a feverish kiss. In seconds they were riled to the same place, thoroughly forgetting the world around them. Killian pulled her closer, relishing the way her body writhed against him as her hands clung to him. Close was never close enough for the two of them, and when they were together like this, all outside noise fell away. All that mattered was that they were together, and that in each other they’d found a spectacular new life and love. It was so transcendent to have these moments wrapped up together like this, but then Killian heard the sound of footsteps coming up the gravel path and he pulled back. Emma still appeared dazed from their kiss, her eyes foggy with feeling, and her lips full from having been thoroughly devoured. But in a few moments she caught up with his reasoning, and instinctively she jumped up, straightening out her summer dress before pulling him to his feet just in time for the willow leaves to rustle.

“There you kids are,” Emma’s grandmother stated as she walked under the canopy. “I was wondering where you’d wandered off to.”

It was still very strange to Killian to even think of this woman that way, given how young she was. She looked closer to Emma’s age than she even did her son’s, but appearances had done nothing to lessen her love for David or for Emma. It was clear that time had little impact on Ruth’s devotion to her family. Over the last few weeks she’d been playing catch up on all the years she missed, but already she blended with this tribe of people. And she was dedicated in her role as caregiver. Killian had noticed how loyal she was and how she was determined to smooth things over whenever she could. She appeared to have a magic touch with these things, and Killian began to hope that maybe she could intervene somehow in all this wedding planning.

“How did you know we’d wandered off?” Emma asked curiously and Ruth smiled and shrugged.

“It was only a matter of time, honey. Anyone who knows you and your mother had to see this coming a mile away. She’s a lovely woman – the best partner I could have picked for my son, and the best mother to my grandbabies – but she’s also on a whole different frequency. She’s got so much energy and so much enthusiasm. Well, it just washes everything else away, doesn’t it?”

“It’s exhausting,” Emma admitted and Ruth took Emma’s hand, patting it affectionately.

“I know it is. You’ve done brilliantly trying to keep up, Emma. But I think this is where we put our foot down. I’ll speak with your mother, and we’ll get this all settled.”

“Oh, Grandma, you don’t have to. It’s okay, I can -,”

“Nonsense. It’s my job to protect you, Emma, and right now you’ve got more than enough on your plate. Besides, we both know this might get a little awkward, and I don’t want you or Killian getting in the crossfire. Your mother will come around, but it might take her some time, and better that she be annoyed with me than with you.”

Emma and Killian tried to argue, insisting that they could handle it, but Ruth would hear none of it. Seemed stubbornness was a bit of a family trait, but as she led them back to the yard where Emma’s mother and father were waiting, Killian couldn’t help but feel relief. It was a weight off his shoulders to know that Emma would have an advocate, and though he would have risen to the challenge without any hesitation, he was grateful that it wasn’t him or his bride to be that had to face Mary Margaret’s impending displeasure.

“Mom, I didn’t realize you were here. I thought you went into town for the day,” David said as he saw Ruth leading Killian and Emma back. He stood from his chair, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and she beamed up at him, her hands patting his shoulder affectionately.

“And I did, for a little while. I thought it best to give everyone their space while you did your planning, but I think it’s time I stepped in now. Don’t you?”

The look of shock on Emma’s father’s face was actually rather funny, so much so that Emma giggled softly beside him. Killian looked to her and the light in her eyes said that her grandmother’s approach was helping. She might still be worried about her mother’s reactions, but she wasn’t as anxious or apprehensive as she might have been otherwise. This was a blessing, since stress wasn’t healthy for Emma or their little one.

“Now, I know there is no one more capable of putting together a wedding to remember than you, Mary Margaret,” Ruth said, with real appreciation, “but I think that the best thing we could do for Emma is to make things very easy. If I’m understanding correctly, there aren’t many things Emma really feels strongly about, right?”

Emma nodded, and let out a sigh of relief at how quickly her grandmother had understood her. Killian felt just as calmed by Ruth’s insightfulness, and he watched in amazement as she continued to press forward, working to convince Emma’s mother of some necessary change.

“So why don’t we do this: let’s get the details that matter to the kids and let’s get a list of absolute no-nos as well. That way we have a general idea of what they want and what they don’t want, and we can build them their magical day as part of our gift to them.”

“Us?” Mary Margaret asked surprised. “Like you and me?”

“Yes, I mean if you’ll have me,” Ruth said, offering her hand to Mary Margaret who took it eagerly. “I know it’s not the same, but I’ll always regret the fact that I couldn’t be part of your and David’s special day. This will give us a chance to make some of those decisions, and it’ll help Emma have some peace of mind while she gets ready for her marriage and her baby. She’ll still be involved, but not so hands on, and together we can make something absolutely beautiful that still falls within reason.”  

Emma’s mother looked really happy at the thought, until those last few words popped up. Then she tossed a look at David, before replying to his mother. “I don’t tend to do very well at the ‘within reason’ part.”

“That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together, and we’ll keep Emma and Killian updated as much as they want.”

It was amazing to have witnessed this delivery of an idea. Ruth had only been in their lives for a few weeks, but she had a means of talking to all of them in a way that convinced them to see reason and to be empathetic to others. For the first time, Killian felt like Mary Margaret really understood that this was more of what Emma wanted. It dawned on her that Ruth was right. Emma had lots of other things to be thinking of, and fighting with her mother would only add to an already full plate. At the end of the day, Mary Margaret clearly didn’t want that for her daughter, and she was the kind of mother who would do anything for her children.

“Is this okay with you, Emma? I don’t want you to feel like I’m planning your whole wedding. It’s your day, and I know I can be controlling and opinionated -,”

“Let me stop you there, Mom,” Emma said, coming around the table to sit beside her mother. “I appreciate that you want this to be what I want, but I think grandma Ruth is onto something. Killian and I only really care about a handful of things. I want to pick my own dress, Killian and I want to choose our first song, we want to get married here in Storybrooke, and we want to get married soon.”

“How soon?”

“Before the summer is over,” Emma said, looking to Killian who grinned and nodded.

“All right, and the rest you want to leave to me?” her mother asked and Emma smiled.

“I do. I know our tastes can be different sometimes, but you know me, Mom. I trust you to create not just a beautiful wedding, but one that represents Killian and I. Grandma’s right. There is no one better to plan that then you, and it’ll be a lot less painful of a process if you just follow your own thinking and can go at your own pace.”  

Everyone waited with bated breath to see if Mary Margaret would actually respond well to this new idea. There was a chance she might still feel slighted or upset, but when her face lit up with a genuinely happy smile, Killian and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed they’d actually managed to handle this, and they owed so much of that new found peace to Emma’s grandmother. With a few more quick, overarching questions, about colors and basic thematic elements, the five of them were done and Killian and Emma were left wondering what to do with the rest of their day. Before they had a chance to decide, however, an unexpected party made up of their friends and the rest of their family walked through the back gates of the Nolans’ home.

“Surprise!” Ruby said with a mirthful grin as she wielded a large red pot in her arms. Graham was beside her, carrying at least four of his own containers in an attempt to ease Granny’s load, and behind them were Anna, Elsa, and Liam who all held their own unanticipated offerings too. “It’s a beautiful day, and we were thinking it might be perfect for a barbecue.”

“What a great idea!” Emma’s mother agreed. “And your timing is brilliant. We’re just finishing up.”

“Oh I know,” Ruby said, reminding them all that her visionary gifts often came in hand in cases like this. “It was touch and go for a bit there, but thank god for Grandma Ruth, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Emma agreed, as she grabbed some of the supplies Ruby and the others brought with them before she turned, with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “Oh wait, actually you do.”

Killian watched as Emma laughed with her friends, a group which now thoroughly included Ruby. It was like they’d been close for years instead of only a few months, and the four of them were predisposed to sharing only good moments together. Ultimately, they went into the house, all of them clearly well pleased with the way the day was turning out, and that was all Killian could ask for. Before she was fully inside Emma tossed one last smile his way, and he grinned, glad that despite how rocky things had been before, his love was now in a much better place.

“You look happy, brother,” Liam acknowledged as he approached and Killian nodded, knowing that Liam’s comment was by no means inaccurate.

“No happier than the Sherriff here,” Killian said motioning to Graham, who walked beside Liam. “Surprised to see you here, Graham.”

“Why would you be? Tink can handle the town well enough on her own. And Ruby is here, so I am too.”

“Sorry, I should have been clearer. I meant I was surprised to see both of you. Ruby hasn’t been uh… let’s call it sociable of late.”

“Aye,” Liam agreed, immediately joining in on Killian’s ribbing of their cousin’s new mate.  “It was made clear as day after Ruby helped Elsa cast her spell that you’d both be taking a long, long time away.”

“And we will be,” Graham said confidently, his eyes sparkling in a way that so equally matched Ruby’s it was no surprise they were mates. “But things need to settle first.”

“Settle?” Killian asked. “How much more settled can they get?”

“Beats me,” Graham replied with a sigh. “But my girl knows what she knows. She says soon, but not yet, and I have to trust she knows best.”

Killian respected that response and figured that he and Liam had given Graham enough grief. He was family now, after all, and there was nothing more worth protecting and preserving than family. “As to your original question, brother, you’re right. I am happy. I’m happier than I ever believed possible, and I have a feeling you share my sentiments.”

Liam nodded, his own smile still more reserved after years of the emotional drain that had been caused by his sickness. Since Elsa completed the magical bond between them a a couple of weeks ago, Liam had been rapidly on the mend, but Ruby assured them all that it would take time for Liam to be truly acclimated to something like normalcy again. Not that being magically bounded to a witch who was also your mate was normal, per se, but Killian still understood the meaning.

“I only wish Elsa would rebound faster. What she’s been through to save me…” Liam trailed off, the burden of Elsa’s sacrifice clearly weighing heavily on him.

“Has the bonding not taken like it should?”

“No, it was seamless. Elsa saw to that,” Liam said with pride, and Killian bit back another smile as he waited for Liam to elaborate. “It’s just her sleep.”

“Ah,” Graham said, like it was suddenly so clear. “Well that’s easy, humans need more sleep than shifters. That means as much as you might want to keep her up -,”

“I’m not keeping her up,” Liam growled defensively, though Killian was past the point of being afraid of his elder brother’s actions. Despite being frustrated with the implication that he was the cause of his mate’s suffering, Liam was fine and not truly angry with Graham. “It’s her nightmares. They’ve been bad for the past week. She’s been restless, and even on the nights when I think she’s found sound reprieve, she wakes just as tired as when she went to bed.”

“Nightmares? Like the ones she was having before?” Killian asked and Liam nodded. “But I thought those were about you trying to find me or being her mate.”

“They were. These are different, but Elsa says the same darkness sticks with her when she wakes. Just now instead of waking up from blackness, she says she’s been seeing red.”

“Red?” Killian echoed, a sense of uneasiness creeping in at his brother’s confirmation.

“Brighter than blood, was how she put it.”

“Kind of a weird way of phrasing that,” Graham muttered, but Liam disregarded him.

“She says the color is unnatural, and that this particular hue seeps all through the dreams. Monsters with red eyes and a lust for blood. Some of them are trapped, and some roam the forest, searching for something, but all of them terrify her,” Liam said, and Killian felt a chill snap down his spine, a very real trickle of fear coloring his recently more stable world.

“Well damn, no wonder she’s tired. That shit sounds awful.”

“It does,” Killian agreed, almost without meaning to, his mind wandering back to his own remembrances of eyes that repulsive and frightening.

“Meanwhile I can do nothing to stop this. I’d protect her from anything the world over, but how could I possibly ward this off? I have no control of dreams, and it’s starting to drive me mad, which is probably only making her worse.”

“Does she think they’re visions?” Killian asked.

“How could they be? Red eyes? What shifter species has those? None I know of, and none we read word of in her family’s archives. No, I think this is a symptom. My lingering darkness is somehow spreading to her, but when we talked to Ruby she said that the future she can see still looked the same, and in that future we’re both healthy and well.”

“But clearly Ruby’s sight isn’t as infallible as we once thought,” Killian responded, and now Liam and Graham looked at him quizzically.

“Maybe not, but if she says we’re fine and she knows that for sure then certainly that means something.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Killian asked, his voice edgier than he intended. Liam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“Come to you with the nightmares of my mate? I didn’t think it necessary. You and Emma have enough going on. Between showing her how to shift, preparing for your wedding, and the pup on the way, I figured you didn’t need the hassle. Besides, I know my Elsa. She would never wish to add more burden to Emma’s life, not after everything they’ve gone through.”

“They were scarlet,” Killian whispered, and Liam now looked thoroughly confused. “I’ve seen scarlet colored eyes on a shifter before.”

“You have?” Liam asked, immediately on alert. “Where, brother?”

“Boston. Emma saw them too.”

Killian recalled what he could of that night, though it felt like he had gone through the story a thousand times in many ways. It dawned on him as he was telling it though that Liam had never heard the full account, as least not from Killian or Emma, the two who had actually experienced that unusual night. Elsa must have heard it all, but now he wondered if Emma had included those little details. If she had it clearly hadn’t stuck with Elsa, but then again the idea of these eyes wasn’t horrible and gruesome until one saw them in the face of a snarling, ruthless animal.

Just as he’d finished explaining the still mysterious nature of the attack years ago, the back door burst open, and Killian turned to find Emma leading the women out of the house. Gone was her easy demeanor from before, and now it was replaced with worry, a worry that he immediately wanted to fix, but wasn’t sure how.

It’s not just dreams, Emma’s mind pushed towards him through their mated link, her face portraying the pain of accepting that terrifying though. Then she decided to speak aloud so everyone could hear. “They’re visions. Definitely visions.”

“Aye, so it would seem.”

“So much for normal, huh?” Emma asked in a whisper as she came to hold him, trying to find comfort in his arms when a new wave of fear had descended. Though he wished he could tell her that it would all be okay, and that there was no more pain or uncertainty ahead, Killian knew that likely wasn’t true. Whatever these visions meant, and wherever things were going, it seemed they had more darkness standing in their way. But he’d be damned if he didn’t fight it all off and overcome it for their future. They’d handle this, just as they’d weathered every storm up to now, and no matter what it took, Killian swore to himself and to Emma that he’d keep her and their family safe at all costs…

………….

Don’t shift. Don’t shift. Whatever you do, don’t shift.

The familiar voice in his head that belonged to his bear had been growing weaker day by day, increasingly drowned out by the menacing, discombobulated thoughts of something darker. Something ruthless. But tonight there was a desperation and a last display of strength behind his animal’s spirit that Kristoff hadn’t heard before. It was like a final cry of hope, but it felt useless to be hopeful here. Trapped as he was in this cage underground, ripped away from his home and the life he knew before, Kristoff had been losing more and more of himself during this stint in captivity. Whatever the man in the mask was pumping into his veins was slowly driving him crazy, but he had to fight. Even if it was inevitable, he’d fight with every fiber of his being before he’d ever sink willingly into this dark abyss.

“Ah, still trying to deny what must now come,” a voice said, sounding through the bars in an even, unelevated way.

He recognized it as the voice of the man who was in charge of this place. He was the one responsible for all this terror, and the tone of his words reflected that. He was cold, calculating, and yet self-satisfied in a way that made Kristoff’s skin crawl. A twinge in his voice spoke to malicious intent, and if evil was ever to incarnate into human form, this guy was definitely in the running for what it would look like.

“It’s all for nothing, of course. You will, ultimately, give in as all the others have. But I can’t help but wonder at your power when you do. You’re a grizzly, after all, one of nature’s largest abominations, and your resistance to this point… well I have to believe it’ll make your eventual surrender so much more complete. Yes, you’ll work fine. A weapon befitting the task at hand.”

“What’s so damn important?” Kristoff asked. “You keep talking about a weapon, and I can smell there’ve been others here, others you’ve tortured like me. What the hell is your endgame?

The man laughed, and the sound was toxic and scratchy, almost causing Kristoff to wince. Then he walked to the edge of the cage, his body mere inches from the bars as he sneered out a response. “If I had my way you’d all be dead. There’s no worth to shifter life. You are all nothing. Worse than nothing. You’re a plague, a plague brought upon the world to be remedied, and at last I’ve found my way to do just that. What I’ve given you is so much more than you can fathom, it would leave your feeble mind gasping for air to even conceive of it.”

“Try me,” Kristoff said, staring down his captor while doing his best to use his other senses to figure out a way out of here. He just had to get to the gate fast enough to kill this man. He must have a key somewhere, and once this ass hole was dead then maybe Kristoff could be free.

“We don’t have time. You’re ready for your final dose, your last descent, so to speak. You won’t withstand another injection. The sickness will take you then, and this will keep you in line.” 

The man pulled a giant, bear sized collar out from behind his back, and even from this distance Kristoff could smell the dark magic attached to the thing. It smelled of death and decay, and it explained why Kristoff had sensed magic nearby. It was strange though - so far things here had seemed almost clinical, but maybe this monster of a man was more than human. A warlock perhaps, or -

“Either way, you should be grateful,” his captor snapped, drawing his full attention back to the fateful moment at hand. “For now you will help cleanse the world of its surest darkness. There’s just one thing left to handle.”

“And that is…?”

The question hung between them in the air, and his captor only smiled the line of his lips forming a menacing, malicious sneer. Then he pressed something on the other side of the wall that Kristoff couldn’t see, and the familiar sound of the floor giving out from under him prompted his body to spring into action. He sought to avoid the trap this time, but there was nowhere to go. He was caught, and before he could even begin to formulate a way out of this, he felt the sharp prick of the needle. He’d failed to stop this mad man, and now it was too late. His pulse was rushing, his mind became frenzied and unglued, and as reality faded into oblivion, all he was left with was a blinding, seeping, sickening sense of red.

Post-Note: So there we have it. Obviously, this is opening another can of worms, but I know a few of you mentioned in the beginning of the story that you were curious what the red eyes meant on the shifter that attacked Emma and Killian. I didn’t just forget about that, and it definitely wasn’t a throw away detail, even if it happened a long time ago. It’s been part of my larger story vision since the beginning. You’ve probably started to piece together some of the parts of the puzzle, but rest assured, next chapter will give a lot more clues as to what exactly is going on and what it all means for CS and the others. Anyway, as always, I am so appreciative of you all reading. It means the world to me to have you all continuing on this story journey with me, and I really hope you’ve enjoyed the chapter!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs au #cs smut #ouat au #ouat fic #ouat ff #captain swan fanfic #emma swan #killian jones #the whole storybrooke gang #lost souls #lost souls au #lost souls and reveries #lost souls 19 #CSSNS #cssns 18

[magicallygrimmwiccan]

Only Time, Part II

Summary: In which I break hearts and souls, yelling is done, and tears are shed

Notes: Part II of my trade with @dailypattondoodle​ / @moonfang03​! Warning for a panic attack. Sorry this is so late, my editor and I both had a horridly busy last week of school, but now that we’re both on spring break, these will get up faster! 

Of course, things could only look up for so long. The next month was wonderful for both of them: Roman spent more time with Logan on a daily basis, Logan’s mood and overall mental health improved, and the twins actually both started to act like better siblings. Virgil and Patton were happy because their kids were doing better, Roman’s friends mentioned how much better Logan seemed to be doing whenever he was around, and even Logan’s teachers noticed a stark improvement. He was less moody now, they said, more open to answering questions, and overall interacted more with his classmates. Roman was happier that his brother was doing better, and his friends were also happier for this change.

Roman promised that he would show up to help Logan run through his poetry presentation at lunch that day. Roman promised that he would be there to support his brother through this stressful presentation. Roman promised that he would not skip this meeting. However, five minutes after their meeting time, Roman was nowhere to be found. Roman was nowhere to be found and Logan was in the office of his physics teacher, sobbing his eyes out and trying desperately to breathe. Roman had abandoned him again. He should have known this would happen, why was he so stupid, he couldn’t breathe, he needed his Dad…

“Logan? Love? I need you to look at me, alright?” Mika’s soft voice came from in front of him. Logan shakily raised a hand to communicate, but refused to remove his face from his legs. A sigh, a shuffle, and then Logan found himself being pulled into a loose, warm hug. He buried his face in the soft sweater vest Mika always wore and allowed the tears to fall without restraint again. Mika let him cry, rocking him back and forth.

“Would you like me to call your Dad?” Mika murmured. Logan nodded, and Mika dropped a gentle kiss into his hair. “Hang on, then. Would you like me to call him or Wirt?”

Logan raised a hand and shakily signed Wirt. Mika nodded and shifted slightly.

“Hey, Wirt? Could you call Logan’s Dad and tell him to come get Logan?” Mika called softly. Logan stiffened. No no no, he didn’t need to be picked up, please don’t bother his father with his stupid feelings. Mika gently grabbed his hand, and Logan distantly realized that he had been signing that. “No, Logan, it’s okay. Your Dad won’t be angry, I assure you.” Distantly, Logan registered Wirt stammering into a phone, talking to his Dad, but he decided to ignore that and focus on Mika.

Roman left again, Logan signed. Mika sighed, chest rising less than it should have thanks to xyr binder. He promised he would be here to help and he left.

“Roman is going to feel my wrath, I assure you,” Mika growled slightly. “That was not okay of him.” Logan shrugged. He should be used to it now; why was he so emotional about this?

A person cleared their throat above him, and Logan looked up to find Wirt holding out his phone, video chat with Virgil open. “Logan? I’m coming to get you, okay? Just hold on for fifteen minutes,” Virgil babbled. His green-brown eyes were blown wide in fright, and Logan could sense the panic radiating through the screen.

I will be fine, Dad. Focus on your breathing, please? Virgil giggled, slightly hysterical, and shook his head.

“L, don’t worry about me, okay? It’s my job to worry about you.” Logan nodded, still confused, but let it go. Virgil smiled, promised to be there as soon as possible, and hung up, leaving Logan alone with his two friends. Wirt crouched down, still looking nervous, and offered a shaky smile.

“Hey, Logan. You’ll be okay. We’re here for you,” he stammered, smiling awkwardly in support. Logan nodded and sniffed, tears still flowing down his cheeks. His two friends scooted in, cuddling him and offering comfort while glaring viciously at anyone who dared to look in their direction. That was how Virgil found them fifteen minutes later, out of breath and panting. Logan looked up, tears mostly dried, and Virgil jerkily dropped to his knees, taking Logan’s face in his hands.

“Oh, sweetie, are you okay? Here, let’s go home, I’ll get you some tea and Crofter’s and we can talk, okay?” Logan nodded and allowed Virgil to pull him up as the halfway bell rang. Mika and Wirt stood up as well, one with eyes blazing and the other with eyes filled with worry. “Thank you for helping him, you two. You’re welcome to come over later if you’d like.”

“We most likely will, thank you Mr. Everhart. Take care, Logan, okay?” Mika replied, smiling softly. With that, Virgil lead Logan out of school, fully intent on showering his son with all the love and support he needed. When they were gone, Mika turned to Wirt, teeth gritted and eyes blazing.

“I’m about to go rip Roman a new one. Are you with me?” Wirt nodded shakily, and with that, the two stalked out, fully intent on chewing Logan’s twin out until his ears bled and he realized exactly what he had done.

“Roman Everhart! I need to have a word with you!” a crisp British accented voice yelled, the anger in their voice easily cutting through the din of the cafeteria. Everyone shushed immediately, eyes turning to see the tall form of Mika Kirkland storming through the crowds of high schoolers, eyes blazing with the fury of a million suns from a thousand solar systems. Those who had their backpacks in the walkway quickly moved them, scared of what Mika would do to their belongings in their angered state. Roman, the person Mika clearly had a vendetta against, looked up, face painted in confusion. Why did one of Logan’s best friends need to talk to him, especially while looking so angry?

Mika came to a stop in front of Roman’s table, fists clenched and gritted teeth bared. “Did you or did you not promise Logan you would be there to help him with his poetry presentation?” Roman blinked, still confused, and nodded. That was tomorrow, though, wasn’t it? Why was Mika yelling at him over it now?

“Then why the hell weren’t you there?” Mika growled. Roman’s blood froze as reality dawned on his slow, stupid, awful brain. That… that had been today. He had missed something important to Logan after promising to be there for him… no wonder his brother hated him! Roman bolted to his feet, wild with desperation.

“I… Mika, where’s Logan? I… I have to go, I have to… I have to fix this,” Roman gasped. His friends all looked at him, concerned, and Shiloh slowly rose to his feet, hand outstretched to offer comfort.

Mika’s eyes drained of most of their anger and instead filled with pity. “He’s at home after having a panic attack in the physics room. I think we should take this somewhere private, yes?” Roman nodded, still in shock, and began to climb out of the lunch table. He tripped and fell, legs trembling too badly to support him. Shiloh dived to catch him, murmuring reassurances and affirmation to him in an attempt to help. Mika crouched down and grabbed Roman and Shiloh’s backpacks before standing back up. “Come on, Shiloh, I know a place.” With that, the three of them set off, desperate to fix this situation before the hurt became any worse for any party involved.

Even with only 20 minutes of lunch left, Mika’s reputation as the perfect class president with a 4.0 GPA and a perfect record allowed the three of them to get permission to miss fifth hour in order to have a chat with the school psychologist. In reality, Mika convinced xyr physics teacher to allow them to sit and talk in her office to sort this out, which she was more than happy to oblige. Mika set to work brewing up more coffee while Shiloh settled Roman in and began to calm him, muttering soothing nothings until he was sure Roman was calm enough to be present for this conversation. Mika walked over balancing three mugs and settled in, years of ballet lending a certain grace to xyr movement that Roman could only wish he had. Xe took a long, slow sip of coffee and began.

“Roman. I apologize for yelling at you. I see now that you genuinely forgot, and while I am still a bit angry because of how upset Logan is, I am not angry at you, per say.” Roman nodded and took his coffee with shaking hands. Shiloh squeezed his shoulder for support while Mika continued. “Now, why do you think Logan is upset?”

“I… we promised, together, that we’d try and actually be there for each other… I’d spend less time with my friends, Logan would try to talk to me about his feelings… and I fucked up,” Roman whispered, staring into the black depths of his drink.

“Hey, Roman. Human error. This isn’t your fault,” Shiloh insisted.

“Well it sure isn’t Logan’s!” Roman yelled back, voice cracking. Mika jumped, clearly startled, but Shiloh took this in stride, used to Roman’s emotional outbursts.

“Of course it isn’t, but it’s not yours either! These things happen, Roman! Stop blaming yourself!”

“Could you two maybe stop yelling, please? There is class going on outside,” Mika broke in, voice wobbling a bit. From a distant corner of Roman’s mind, he remembers Logan telling him that Mika and Wirt were both sensitive to loud noises, especially when it came from other people who appeared angry. Roman forced himself to calm down and quiet down, not wishing to scare anyone else.

“Yeah… so. What… what can I do to fix this?” Roman murmured, eyes screaming apologies in Mika’s general direction. Mika finished xyr mug of coffee and poured another, much to Roman’s shock and horror. How much coffee did this person drink?!

“First: I’d work on communication with Logan. He’s noticed that you’ve been slipping a bit in talking to him about important things in the past week or so, and I agree with him that you do need to work on that. For God’s sake, Roman, he’s your twin. He’s not going to judge you for having feelings.”

“Yeah, Ro, you do have a habit of bottling and not talking about the things you need,” Shiloh added, smiling apologetically. Roman nodded and finished his coffee, the warm beverage filling him with heat missing from his soul right now.

“I can do that. Start talking to Logan about feelings and stuff more,” Roman muttered. Mika nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of xyr lips.

“That’s all I can ask. Second: Try and include Logan more with your friends. Not just choose him over your friends, since that is a situation no one wants.” Shiloh nodded at Mika’s assessment, and Mika took that as permission to continue. “Start inviting him to sit with you at lunch once a week or so when Wirt and I are too busy with other things, for instance. Invite him to afterschool activities. Start planning sleepovers with him and your friend group. Anything will help, I assure you.”

“But… Logan doesn’t like crowds, and he doesn’t like my friends. How do I work around that?” Roman seemed genuinely confused and upset. Mika and Shiloh shared a look, understanding passing between green eyes, before Shiloh turned to Roman.

“Ro. We all don’t know Logan well enough to like him or not. This is a good first step, I promise.” “And Logan doesn’t dislike your friends, he just doesn’t know them well enough,” Mika added, second cup of coffee during this conversation almost gone. Roman blinked. He… had not considered that, had he? Whoops.

“Third: Be patient. Logan likes to pretend he doesn’t have emotions, but that is a blatant lie and we all know it. Emotional pain takes time to heal, so just… be patient with him. If you do those things, Roman, you can at least start to repair your relationship before it’s too late.” With that, Mika poured xemself a third mug of coffee and settled back, waiting for Roman’s response.

Roman allowed Mika’s advice to swirl around his head, and he pondered how he could begin to implement this plan. Logan was at home right now, most likely bawling his eyes out (that caused a harsh pang of pain to erupt in Roman’s heart; he’d never liked his brother in pain, especially not crying) and believing that Roman hated his guts. He needed to fix this now, and honestly, Mika’s idea seemed to be the best way to do that. Mika knew Logan even better than Roman did at this point (and didn’t that thought just sting), and Roman knew that xe knew how Logan operated better than most.

“I… thank you, Mika. I think I can try to start tonight,” Roman choked out. Mika nodded and sipped at the coffee, smiling lightly.

“Of course, Roman. I will always be happy to help. Logan cares for you, and I care for Logan. Therefore, I care for you.” Roman blinked. That… no wonder Logan was friends with Mika, they thought in very similar ways.

Shiloh snorted. “Wow, no need to sound so formal, Your Highness.” Mika choked on xyr coffee for a brief instant before recovering.

“I… alright then. I was… not expecting that,” xe coughed. “Now, you two could head back to class if you wished.”

“Nah. I’d rather stay here and make sure Ro’s calm,” Shiloh answered. “I kind of want to stay here and just watch videos and talk about other fun things,” Roman chirped. Mika sighed, clearly conflicted, before nodding and scooting next to the two extroverts.

“Well, there is this nice YouTuber who makes writing videos and is just a dork who loves his cat. I would not object to watching his content,” Mika said as xe pulled out xyr laptop. The three of them settled in to watch light-hearted videos and ignore their problems, just like teenagers should.  

“Okay, Logan, sit down, sweetie, I’ll make you hot cocoa, just stay here and don’t die, please?” Virgil babbled, setting Logan down on the couch before dashing into the kitchen. Why was he so useless when it came to emotions? Patton was so much better, but Patton was at work and wouldn’t be home for a few hours, leaving Virgil alone to comfort his crying son. Said crying son was curled into a ball, salt water soaking into the skin of his arms because his sweater sleeves were pushed back to prevent damage. Virgil’s heart broke for his son and he finished making the cocoa as quickly as possible, desperate to get back and comfort his son. He dashed back out to the living room, careful not to spill a drop of the comforting beverage, before sitting next to his son and handing over the cocoa.

“So, L, what’s wrong?” Virgil whispered. Logan spent a few minutes in silence, drinking his cocoa, before shakily raising a hand and beginning to sign.

Roman promised to help me with my presentation… and he didn’t show up. He forgot me and abandoned me again… Virgil’s blood absolutely boiled and he had to force himself to take deep breaths so as not to let his anger show. No matter how angry he got, he would not frighten his son. But he was going to have some words with Roman when he got home.

“Hey… I can’t say that Roman didn’t mean it, or that he just forgot, or anything else, since I’m not him and wasn’t there. I can, however, say that I am here for you, and we’ll solve this whole mess together, okay?” Virgil answered. Logan nodded, tears still streaming down his face, and took a long sip of his hot cocoa before leaning into his Dad. Virgil lifted an arm and pulled Logan closer, sighing sadly. He didn’t like seeing his son so sad, especially when it was the fault of his other son, and he hated feeling useless like this. He could, however, try and make this better, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. If that meant making hot cocoa, he would. If it meant giving advice, he would. If it meant being a pillow to cry into, he would. He just needed to make sure that Logan was okay, and, come hell or high water, he would make it happen. For now, though, he sat there with his quiet son, sipping hot cocoa and watching space and nature documentaries until Logan fell asleep. When he did fall asleep finally, Virgil slipped his phone out and texted Patton. He still had a couple hours until Roman got home, but when he did, the two of them were going to have some words. This needed to be fixed, now, and Virgil would make sure it was. He would not allow his children’s relationship to fall apart, not this easily, not when he could help fix it.

Virgil didn’t realize that he too fell asleep. He only noticed when he was shaken gently awake by soft, unfamiliar hands. “Mr Everhart, please wake up. Roman is home, and he wants to talk to Logan,” Wirt’s voice came from above. Virgil blinked awake, still cuddling Logan, to find his son’s friend standing over him, brow crinkled in worry. Behind Wirt stood Roman and Mika, Logan’s other friend, one sheepish and one angry. Three guesses as to which was which, and the first two don’t count. Virgil quickly woke up the rest of the way and stood, cracking his spine as he fixed Roman with a flat glare.

“I think I need to have a talk with Roman first, if that’s alright?” he asked, making sure to keep his voice light while his emotions were anything but. Mika and Wirt were wise and left quickly, Mika stopping to gently scoop up Logan. Smart boys, those two. No wonder Logan was friends with them. Logan’s choice in friends was not Virgil’s current concern, however, and he turned his attention to his other son, eyes icy.

“Roman. What happened.” This was not a question; this was not a debate. This was a serious talk about the state of Roman and Logan’s emotions and relationship, and Virgil needed Roman to know that.

Roman sighed and looked down, sorrow oozing off of him. “I… I was supposed to help Logan with his poetry presentation… and I blew him off for my friends. Everyone is telling me it was an accident and that I just forgot, but… I don’t know.” Tears started to pool in his eyes, and Virgil bit his lip. He didn’t like seeing his kids sad. How was he going to fix this?!

Virgil pulled Roman into a hug, gently rocking him back and forth. “Hey, Ro. I’m not mad, okay? Well, no, I’m a bit angry at the situation, but that’s because I don’t like seeing you two hurt. I care about you, okay? I… I just want you and Logan to be okay.” Roman started crying harder and squeezed Virgil back, burying his face in the writer’s shoulder. Virgil started to cry as well, and as one, the two of them collapsed onto the couch, allowing their emotions to finally leave their souls. Virgil could not tell how long they sat there, simply talking and crying, but at some point, Patton came home and sat on Roman’s other side, pulling his husband and his son into a warm, comforting hug.

“It’ll all be okay, loves,” Patton murmured, voice clogged with tears. “Everything will be okay.” “Will it, though?” Roman whispered, voicing what they were all thinking. Virgil couldn’t answer that, and neither could Patton. No one really knew whether things were going to be okay. It was up to Roman and Logan to fix this, and no matter how much it pained them, this was one thing they couldn’t help their children with.

“Yes. You’re trying, Roman. That tells me that things will be okay,” Patton whispered. Roman nodded, sniffed, and stood up, roughly wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and smiled.

“Now, I need to go talk to Logan. We’re fixing this.” With that announcement, he strolled off, leaving Virgil and Patton alone.

“Do… do you think they’ll be okay?” Virgil murmured. Patton dropped a kiss into Virgil’s hair, hugging him close.

“I don’t know, love. I don’t know.”

Notes: I promise, things will get better. Hope you liked it! 

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #twin logince #moxiety #paternal moxiety #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #selectively mute logan #i am an evil author #writing trade #chapter two #only time #also some ocs #and characters from other fandoms

[cryprev]

Dad of the Year

Craig remembered when he first became very good friends with Robert. Okay, maybe “good friends” is an understatement because the guy was so hard to read. He was the kind of book that you opened and there was porn mags, and maybe a type of knife, fuck it the whole aspect of the book is ruined with whiskey stains. So, why wasn't Craig turned off by it? It was all so confusing, but he didn't judge. Craig himself wasn't always a dad who never quits, in fact Kegstand Craig was a guy who would lay himself in his own personalize puddle of alcohol and puke trying to stomach down burritos on the floor. Those were the days. Craig rubbed his neck, a nervous habit he picked up(Probably due to the stress), but the words that came from Robert’s lips made him think a lot more than he should. “Don't give your girls a reason to hate you.” Robert didn't seem drunk but he was a sober drunk. Even if he was drunk you could never tell. At least maybe that’s what Craig thought. Craig didn't even get a chance to ask him what he meant he was like a bat out of hell leaving the BBQ. That seem like forever ago, but it clearly wasn't. Craig stared at the door, wondering what lay ahead. Maybe Robert wasn't here, maybe he could leave just pretend it never happened; but Craig and Robert both knew that there was no playing pretend. ‘Guess there was no point in beating around the bush.’ Craig thought as he knocked on the door. There went a minute and no answer so, Craig of course thought no one was home. Swift turn later however, he was greeted with a gruff grunt. Craig turned his head back to see the very worn face of a man who's seen many things in his life. Tell me Robert, what HAVE you seen. Craig turned around to get a better look at the mess that was Robert Small(Nevermind the mess behind he’d observe that later). Robert was leaning on the door frame, the tough guy jacket slightly askewed, and it looks like he just fell to get to the door but was playing it off as cool. Craig noticed the slight grey in his brown hair. Greasy. Suppose he doesn't shower often? ‘Don't make assumptions Craig.’ Craig silently scolded himself. “What do you want?” Rough voice to fit a rough man. Craig swallowed, he heard a faint sound of pleading from it though, like maybe he should wrap his arms around Robert and tell him that whatever was leading him on this path was on going to get better.

But of course Craig didn't even know half of it. In fact not even a fraction. “I was going to ask about what you told me, bro.” That bro part was strained, did he mean to do that? “Course, you did. You know you’re a real funny paper kid. You’re a real dad of the year to your kids and you can't even figure out what I said?” Robert replied, jump a little, and continuing with his words: “You gonna stand out there? Or do you wanna come in? You like whiskey? I got whiskey.” Craig would happily decline that. Craig hasn't had a shot since his rough college days. Craig soon stepped in this humble abode, and God his house was a mess. Clothes strewn everywhere, the small bar he had for mixing drinks was scummed probably from him drunkenly leaning over it. Wait..Was that chair tipped over on the balcony. Like the laws of gravity didn't affect Robert’s house. Ah, yeah this brought back painful memories now that Craig thought about it. However, he had good ones too when he was binder drinker. “No, uh that’s fine. I don't drink really anymore.” Craig replied finally. “....Dad of the year.” He mumbled then poured himself a glass though Craig felt he had too much already. “Dude, can you please tell me what exactly you meant? Im kinda getting a little lost here, and you’re not really telling me anything.” Craig was kinda frustrated. Alright, frustrated. Thankfully, smashley...Er..Ashley had the kids for the weekend, while he did this at pretty much the earliest he felt he could. Robert’s face was telling two different stories and Craig was getting spun in them both. Robert took a sip, still looking at him. At that moment Craig felt like he was naked and Robert was staring at each sharp turn on his body. Maybe he could hear his heartbeat too. Is this... The kind of effect he had on someone? Craig swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and blinked at him. Suddenly a laugh erupted from Robert’s slight alcoholic gut. “Have you ever had your kids say they hated you?” What? Craig was so confused by his question but he answered truthfully. “Uh well, every kid tells you that when you maybe like punish them fairly over something, dude.” Wrong answer. Robert stops laughing and untwists the whiskey bottle cap. Smooth pouring, but rough going down your throat. Craig winces. “Aren't you lucky..” He said and Craig noticed the swallow when he tipped the bottle up. No glass. Craig knew this, he saw it a lot when he was in college. Those people who would hang around the bar and drink their issues away without actually addressing them later until they sober up on their lawn or someone else’s bed. Craig inhaled and tried to compose his frustration. “Are you okay, bro-..Robert?” Perhaps bro talk wasn't the best for this. “Peachy.” He replied with the bottle in his hand and his shoulders slouched. Robert moved with such...Grace. At least enough grace for a drunk person to have. Craig was now face-to-face with this guy. “...How do you do it.” Robert breaks the painful silence. Craig was taken aback. “Excuse me?” Craig answers but he was shook when he felt the hand of the other on his shoulder. “Tell me, how do you do it?! Craig i'm not stupid, you use to be this drunken fool in college, you don't think I don't listen? I listen what you tell people. How could you turn your life around like a fucking flip of a coin?!" Craig had to hold the guy, because now Robert was leaning on him, thick alcohol filled his scent and Craig almost gagged but he held on. Craig, as he was propping him up, walked him to his bed and watched him rub his face. Craig's eyes soften. This guy was really hurting. Craig moved his hand to touch Robert's, for--maybe support?--The dad was coming out. He leaned over to feel his sweating forehead, possibly to see if he was running a fever. Craig didn't know why he found himself locking lips with this guy who gave him a cryptic message. Probably because Robert’s free hand pulled his shirt collar down and now his laced lips poisoned Craig. When he pulled back, Craig wiped the saliva from his mouth. Robert...You weird ripped up book. “I am on a path of killing myself kid..I've been eyeing my favorite pocket knives lately.” Craig’s eyes widen a bit. Was he? Craig suddenly felt his heart rate go up, scared of the idea of this guy wasting himself away like that. “I got nothing left..I lost my wife..I lost my kid..Might as well lose myself now.” Robert kept talking but it felt off to Craig. His mind was on what he said before. “...Bro..Robert..Dude..” Craig was sputtering now, like a child. Strong arms went around Robert, which probably wasn't comfortable, but Craig couldn't care less. “What..Are you doing kid?” Robert was confused but he sounded like he had some kind of surprise in his voice. “Bro, I know it's tough right now, I know you hate yourself and I don't know what exactly happened between you and your kid..But..Fuck dude, you don't deserve to die. You’re killing yourself because you think you deserve it but..” Craig found himself soaking up Robert’s shirt. Why was he crying? Craig was scared. There was silence. “I can't fix you, but I can help you fix yourself, I use to be like this. I use to destroy myself just for fun not because I was sad. But, I saw my twins take their first breath and I was... I was set man. I couldn't do that anymore. They deserve better... My wife at the time deserved better..." Sounded like Craig was talking to himself at that point. “You deserve better than this, but it only starts with you, bro.” Robert was still silent, but a hand moved up to touch Craig’s hair. “..Val’s coming down sometime soon and I don't want to screw it up..I feel like I already have and I haven't even see her yet.” Robert responded. Val? Craig knew he had a kid but he never went into detail about her. Craig leaned up. “I know..You’re afraid but me and the rest of the da-.” Robert put his hand on Craig’s mouth. “No, they aren't. They don't know about all this. Not my self destructive tendencies..Except maybe ‘him’.” Him? God was there was still so much to Robert that Craig hadnt gotten. Craig sighed softly and decided not to say anything until Robert spoke. “You’re right yknow.” Fitness dad blinked and lifted his head again but his chin was on his chest. “What do you mean?” Robert cleared his throat. “I should start trying huh.” Craig lifted himself up. "Yeah, you should. You need to better yourself for Val. I mean, I have no idea what it's like to lose a child like that, dude. But...it's not unsalvageable. If you're willing to change, and if Val can see that, then you deserve a chance." “God...You really are dad of the year. Shit.” He laughed and pushed his hand against his eyes to block out the only light source in the room. “Bro, you have no idea.” “I have one.” He felt Robert’s free hand on his waist. Silence. “..Rob.” “Hm?” “I’m not a good cheerleader, my daughter does that but..I'll be here to help you at least. I know what it’s like to be wasted on the floor and having no one block the sun out for you, drag you to bed, or give you pain medication for your head..But..I'm here..If you ever need anything.” Robert was silent again but he leaned up to kiss him once more. Still laced with whiskey. “..I'll hold you to that kid..” Craig was ready to leave but without Robert staring at him as he went out the door. There's that cool lean on the door frame again. “Hey..Uh..Craig, you..You’re cool, we should hang out again.” Craig smiled back at him. “Sure dude! Maybe we could go on a BRUNch.” Robert was a different man, and Craig knew so little of him. Robert was an closed book that had ripped out chapters and ripped edges, burned book spine and you could hardly stomach the writing. Yet, Craig was hungrily wanting more and he would be back for more. There had to be more..There  always was in this neighborhood huh? After all it had its own secrets.

#brobert #long post #ddads #dream daddy #craigbert #craig cahn #robert small

[sunshinemiranda]

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 2)

Summary: A leather jacket needs to be returned to it’s rightful owner, leading to an uncovering that isn’t at all ideal. Things are repaired. A home is found. Then, the world starts to suck again. 

Warnings: LOTS of curse words. A lot. 

Words: 4,855

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. Thank you @secretschuylersister for proof reading for me, and of course my lovely @hamilbye for letting me feature her! So far, this fic (to me) sucks a lot, but let’s try this anyway! I’ll tag the people who asked here too: @robotic-space @daveedsbra @attackonmikaelson @pearltheartist

askbox | masterlist

Morning broke with a harsh light. The weekend beckoned you back to bed with warm hands but the sun that shone insistently through the window was too bright to let you rest peacefully. Feeling, as always, as if you hadn’t slept enough, you trudged down the stairs to arrive to two lovely conclusions: the first being that you had slept all the way till one in the afternoon, and the second being that Nat had too.

“Hey. Get up, you lump. It’s one.” You kicked at the couch she was resting on and she only replied with a groan.

“I feel like shit.” She brushed her hair out of her face and sat up, squinting at you.

“Yeah, you and me both, kiddo. Maybe you shouldn’t have let Daveed buy you, like, eight shots.”

She groaned again, flopping back onto the couch with a hand thrown over her face to block the sunshine from worsening her state. “Fuck. I knew I forgot about something. That must have been it. Jesus, did I really make out with him?”

“Well, the fact that I had to endure even a second of your mouths and tongues… interacting should last me a lifetime in your good books. Seriously, Nat. It was gross.” You shot her a grin, moving to the kitchen to sniff out anything available.

“Oh, shut up. Besides, I totally saw you holding Pan’s hand. Then, he followed us and asked if he could see you again. What the hell happened?” She re-ripped herself from the couch and rose woozily, moving to slouch at the kitchen table with her head in her hands.

“Nothing happened, Nat. We just danced a little, and kissed once. Want toast?”

A pause rang through the room, abrupt and demanding to be noticed.

“(Y/N).”

“Nat.”

“Do not ask me if I want toast in the same sentence as you casually mention you kissed Pan.”

“It’s not that big of a deal!” You argued, mimicking her emphasis on every second word. Angrily, you shoved four pieces of vengeful bread into the toaster.

“Not that big of a deal, my ass. Explain. And tell the truth.” She stood so she could join you in the kitchen, disregarding her hangover as she approached.

Breathing in, your shoulders eased tension away and settled as you leaned against the counter, turning to face her. “Okay. But don’t make anything big about it, alright? He asked me for a dance and promised he didn’t want anything else, so I gave it to him, but while we were dancing I got…a little carried away and we kissed. After, I freaked out ‘cause I couldn’t find you so we went looking. That’s when we found you attached at the mouth to Daveed, so that was great. After that, Anthony chewed him out and I dragged you home. You passed out on the couch and when I got up to my room, he started throwing rocks at my damn window. We talked on the roof for a while, he gave me his jacket. Then he left.”

Again, a silence fell, and for longer, this time. Nat stared at you, expression vacant as she milled through all this new information. She pushed herself up to sit on the counter, sighing a breath.

“This is…a lot. Do you-do you…like him?”

“Like him? We’re not kindergarteners, Nat.”

“You know what I mean. Do you feel for him?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Only partially.” You gave a frustrated groan and reached to pull the toast onto a plate, loading peanut butter onto your two slices.

“Talk to him. Promise me you’ll talk to him. That Pan character might be dangerous, but from what I hear about this Anthony boy, he seems to be quite different from what we expected.”

Nat was (as always) painfully correct.

The weekend oozed by slowly, like viscous molasses. Not all your time was wasted, but you found yourself wrapped up in thoughts about the local gang of “bad kids”. Love, to you (at least up until this point) had all been analysis. You had boiled it down to the odds of getting hurt, the probability of happiness and correcting the dice accordingly. There were no if’s, and’s or but’s about your methods and they had stayed the same ever since your heart had fluttered for the first time when someone beautiful had smiled at you. Analyze the situation. Understand the risks, take other factors like temptation and manipulation into consideration, and adjust accordingly. It was mathematic and not at all the kind of romance you had once craved. There was no time for that anymore.

Monday morning actually made you nervous. However much time you had tried to fit Anthony into the equation of relationships you used as default, the answer always seemed to be undetermined. This was a trial and error encounter and oh, God, how you hated those.

After careful consideration and a lot of stressing out, you had decided that you would join the Lost Boys at the back of the school during lunch period, under the excuse that you were simply returning Anthony’s jacket. If he invited you to stay for the duration of lunch, that was a good sign. If he pretended not to know you, that was a lesser good sign. Either way, your stomach was churning uncomfortably and a feeling of nausea had been floating over your entire body for the first two periods.

As soon as the bell rang, you saw Nat waiting next to your locker, hands wringing at the side of her green binder. She was nervous too.

“Okay. Are you going to go talk to him? I asked around, he’s with the Lost Boys out back.” She pressed her lips together, tucking stray hairs behind her ear.

“Yeah, I’m going to go talk to him. Be right back.” You reached to pull his leather jacket from its hook.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” you smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

You had a feeling it would be anything but.

As soon as you pushed through the doors and saw a group of leather jackets bunched together, fogged in cigarette smoke, your heart plummeted into your stomach. You pushed your feet to continue their pace.

As you moved closer, it was Tink who noticed you first and she turned, raising an eyebrow as she assessed you thoroughly.

“You lost, babe?” Her voice brought all attention to you and from your peripheral, you caught sight of Anthony’s face register surprise. It quickly faded into indifference.

“No.” You answered simply, swallowing as you took a quiet breath to steel a breath. “I have to return something that doesn’t belong to me.” You nodded toward Anthony, and Tink looked taken aback for a moment.

She paused, looking you up and down. “Knock yourself out.” As she moved back, the rest of the crowd parted to allow you safe passage through to deliver Anthony’s leather jacket.

“This is yours.” You said, holding your head tall and with your hands squeezing your binders so hard that it started to hurt.

He looked at you, searching your eyes for something you weren’t quite sure of, wordlessly took the jacket and slipped his arms into the fabric, then turned away and busied himself with lighting a cigarette. His silence stung and before you knew it, your mouth was opening and there was no stopping the words that demanded to come out.

“You’re welcome.”

The crowd murmured. No one spoke to Pan like that, not even his own boys. He turned slowly; cigarette perched on a corner of his lips. He opened his mouth and you assumed it was to speak, but instead, he breathed out and a cloud of smoke assaulted your senses. Coughing, you stepped back and glared.

“I’m not going to thank you, princess.” He grinned, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“Right, I forgot.” You spat. “Someone like you only has manners when it counts, like when you’re trying to find your sleazy way into some girl’s pants.”

Daveed, who was lounging on a picnic table beside Anthony chuckled.

“Whoa, hold up, princess,” Anthony stepped forward, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you think I want in your pants? After all, you were the one who asked me to kiss you.”

The world was spinning. This was not him. It could not be the same boy who had promised that his star would look over you, or the boy who held your hand in the dark of a club and helped you without a second of hesitation, or told lame jokes just to get you to laugh. And yet, here he was, in broad daylight, contradictorily beautiful despite his rotten interior.

“You’re an asshole.” You seethed.

“I’d rather be an asshole than a liar, baby.” He smiled.

Without thinking of consequence, without a second thought, your hand was flying towards his cheek. The sound reverberated in the space and for once, the Lost Boys were speechless. So was their leader.

“Stay the fuck away from me. If you ever come near me again, I will turn you and your little club into dust.”

As you walked away, there was no triumph inside you. A victory that required a tear in your heart was no victory at all.

The worst part of the day was not yet over. After the lunchtime confrontation, time seemed to try its best to spite you by moving at a snail’s pace. Nat, still furious about the horrible encounter you had explained, was determined to keep you going through the day and she stuck by your side when she could, sending comforting texts if the two of you had separate classes. The girl was something. That was for sure.

The relief that washed over you as the final bell rang was not as satisfactory as you had hoped it to be. The dark cloud that was the memory of the Lost Boys had seemed to ruin the entire twenty-four hours of the day in a second. The worst part about being disappointed is not the immediate feeling. It is the gaping hole it leaves in your chest that you must attend to for as long as it takes to heal. Hurt and pain are sometimes quick dealings that don’t take too much effort or time. This occasion was not such a case.

After retrieving your things from your locker, you entered the flow of students filing out to catch the bus or go to their vehicles, but turned left and went out the side door. You were counting on Pan’s crew to be waiting in the parking lot for the straggling members of their group and you’d try your damn best to avoid another shitty encounter. Just as you had hopped off the concrete steps at the side door, a hand on your right shot out and grabbed your wrist. You took in a sharp breath and reached out blindly, managing to raise your free limb and backhand your assailant.

“Ow, fuck.”

The stranger stumbled back, dropping your wrist in the process, and you recognized the curly head of hair immediately. Anthony was holding a hand to his cheek, a childish pout curving his lips down as he stared at you through errant strands of hair. Your jaw tightened, teeth grinding together. How dare he try to approach you after today?

“That’s twice today that you’ve gotten me.” He half-grinned, pointing to the red mark that you assumed was from the slap you’d left him with at lunchtime.

A feeling of triumph rose within you as you noticed the injury, but a general wave of regret at hurting him held it back. You hadn’t really meant to mark him. It was just supposed to humiliate him the way he had humiliated you.

He reached forward to take your hand, as casually as he had in the club. “Hey, so about the-“

You wrenched your wrist away from his grip, hands curling into fists. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He stared at you, assessing. Then, something in him seemed to break, and his gaze softened. A pleading look came about his face. “(Y/N), please, just listen to me.”

“Listen to what, Anthony? A list of shitty excuses that will never explain why you were such a dick to me?”

“You don’t understand,” he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. “That’s not who I am.”

“Well you could have fucking fooled me.” You spat, whipping around and walking away with a newfound purpose.

“(Y/N)!” He called, jogging to catch up then falling into step beside you. “Let me just make you an offer.”

“Oh, I’d love to hear that.” You scoffed, cryptic to the point of breaking, not even bothering to stop walking.

“I know. So just stop and hear me out. Please.” His hand was brushing at your hand again, light, barely there. Like a fairy’s touch.

You stopped there, froze and stared down at the ground, a flurry of thoughts making it hard to come to a clear conclusion. This boy was causing such uproar in your life. All the things you thought you knew had changed the moment Anthony had bought you that damn martini. You weren’t as afraid to speak your mind. You weren’t shying away from fate. And despite all the mess, you liked it.

“You have one minute.” You stated coldly, looking up and crossing your arms. “Go.”

He grinned. “Okay. I know I fucked up today, and I need to apologize, and make it up to you. I will, I promise. But not here. Let me take you somewhere.”

“Where?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, picking up the pace again as you started to walk away. “Don’t waste your breath, Anthony.”

“(Y/N). Come on.” He caught up again, turning you so he could look right into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“No, not really.”

He chuckled, a half smile coming back to his lips. “I swear you can. I swear on the second star to the right. I swear on my star.”

You bit your lip, drumming your fingers against your thigh as you mulled over the decision. “Okay. But only if you tell me where we’re going.”

He shot you a grin. “It’s called Neverland.”

“This place is a dump.”

“No it’s not!”

“It so is, Anthony.”

“It’s charismatic.”

Despite your remaining anger, you laughed in spite of the situation. “You and I have a very different definition of ‘charismatic’.”

He shrugged, pairing it with a grin. After tugging you away from the school, he had pointed you towards his car and remained incredibly silent in describing your destination, however many questions (and threats) you threw at him. Upon arrival, the place didn’t look like much and that was only cemented as he parked, pulling you down an overgrown driveway that had no room for the car. You stumbled over holes in the broken asphalt, using Anthony’s hand, clasped in yours, for support.

“How long are we going to play ‘Explorers in the Underbrush’? I’d like to get back to civilization soon, please.” You huffed, looking up at the tree branches that created a forest arc, leaving no view of the grey sky.

“It’s not far.” He smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “I promise.”

The difference in his demeanour struck you yet again. He was completely changed now, back to the sweet, graceful, angelic boy you had become acquainted with in the dark of the Belle Rêves club. There was no sign of the venomous person who seemed to spit fire as gently as a cool breeze brushed your cheek, not even a hint of vehement bitterness that he seemed to deliver so well. Your heart twisted into confusion, leagues deep in your own thoughts.

“We’re here.” His voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see an old, ivy-covered sign.

It was tall and arching, with two metal frames that held it just tall enough for a vehicle to drive underneath. The sign was engraved with two fairies resting on each end, balancing it out as they laughed with mirth-filled eyes. Between them, one word, half covered in ivy residue and roots, gave the mystery destination a name. All in caps, NEVERLAND curled into the metal, a word so heavy that, when said aloud, sounded like casting a spell.

“It’s a movie drive-in.” He murmured, watching you the entire time as he smiled. “Well, a deserted movie drive-in. But the gang and I come here and dust off the projector sometimes, just to watch a movie this way. Yeah, it’s kind of a dump. But it’s home to us.”

It was home to them. The Lost Boys, known for their ability to disappear from all civilization had found a place to grow roots, laugh like true children in the night, and watch James Dean fall in love on a movie screen just to get away from reality for a night. The Lost Boys had a home, and it was called Neverland. 

Brushing your hand against the metal frames that held the sign up, you smiled, turning back to Anthony. He looked nervous for once, hands tucked into his pockets as he stared at the ground. “It’s beautiful.”

He grinned, taking your hand, to lead you underneath the arch. The place was old, that was a given, but it had such a lived-in, infinite touch that it felt possible that time would just decide to stop moving, just for now. The yard was covered in a thick green pelt of grass, the odd rusted hubcap scattered here and there, remnants of a successful business that attracted young teens and their beat up cars. It was a circular plot, not unlike the fairy circles you would find deep in the forest. Tall, reaching pines and willows curved gracefully around the area, broken up only to have enough room for a tall screen. Adjacent to the screen, a small shack was set up, just big enough for a stash of movies. It was small, even for a projection room, with moss pawing at its sides but it belonged just as much as everything else did.

“How did you find this place?” You murmured, still entranced as he led you across the wide lot.

“Pretty much by trial and error. The boys and I would sort of wander the forest before we had this place, finding new places to drink and get high, just for the night. It wasn’t until we came here that we thought it would be possible to feel like we belonged.” His voice had become so small, barely a whisper.

Your eyes widened at that, but you stayed silent. Society’s take on who this gang of unruly kids were had been completely disbanded in a sentence. The Lost Boys, notorious for tough outer shells that kept out any threat were, after all, just boys. They were young, wanted to have a part in the fairy tale just like anyone else. These children were lost, indeed.

He led you to the projection house, covered in cracked brown paint that was flaking off the sides of the building, waving you over with a silent smile. As he pushed at the screen door, you held your breath, as if expecting a cloud of dust, a result of disuse. Instead, you were greeted with a homely, brown panelled room, complete with a couple wooden chairs and one patched up, hand-me-down couch. The walls were covered with a mix of whatever appealed to the group; movies, posters, shelves of books, rusting auto parts and was that a sword?

“These place is insane,” you breathed, turning in a slow circle to take in the entire room.

“I know, right?” He laughed, letting himself fall against the couch, stretching like a lazy cat in a patch of sunlight.

You stepped over the wooden floor to join him, eyes still scanning the walls with endless wonder as you settled into the worn couch.

“(Y/N), listen, I…I owe you an apology.” Anthony murmured.

His words commanded your attention and immediately, you turned to face him. “Yeah.”

“I just…there’s a part of me…” he started, looking down at his open palms as he explained. “There’s a part of me that is Pan. And there’s also a part of me that’s…well, me. It’s not a case of split personality, but more like-“

“An image.” You cut in, voice quiet and resigned.

He breathed out, eyes closing for a brief moment before looking up to meet your gaze. “Yeah. To the people at school, to the adults in my life, even to the boys, I am always Pan. Pan, the brave, the king, the leader, but ultimately also the asshole. In that club that night, I wasn’t expecting things to go that way. I approached you with that part of me leading but it didn’t work. I realized that what you wanted, and deserved, was the truth. That is why I am Anthony to you.” He reached out for your hand, all tenderness as he stroked a thumb over your knuckles. “And today at lunch, it was like two worlds clashing. On the one hand, you represent who I really am, who I should be. And the Lost Boys are who I want people to think I am. I got scared. I reverted back to the person you don’t know, and for that, I am so sorry, (Y/N).”

A sigh rang through your lungs, taking with it the anger and humiliation left over from the confrontation. You managed a soft smile, raising his hand to brush a feather light kiss against his fingertips, a rare moment of vulnerability. It was an indulgence. You knew all too well that this (whatever this was) was bound to crash and burn. A kiss with an angel, as you had thought before, would be consequential. But for now, you ignored it, just for a second, a fleeting second of blissful ignorance.

“I forgive you.” It was said in a breath, and you could visibly see the tension drain from his posture.

Without another word, he leaned, hand rising to find a familiar place at your jaw as you surrendered, yet again, to that momentary ignorance of consequences. Your grasp transferred from his hands to the roots of his hair as his mouth came down, soft and beautifully innocent, against yours. With his curls entwined around your knuckles, the world seemed altogether simpler and much prettier. It was an instant transformation, like your vision had been cleansed by a miracle. This was the taste of possibility, of living without suffering through regrets and worry. It was so Anthony that it took your breath away. There, again, was the tug of your heart, a bittersweet coming-to that made an annoying voice in the back of your head become cryptic and criticizing. This was good, perfect even. But it couldn’t last.

In your distraction with your thoughts and Anthony, the footsteps sounding against the wooden stairs fell on deaf ears. Even the unlatching of the screen door remained unheard. It wasn’t until a member of the bemused group of Lost Boys cleared his throat in that you broke apart.

Leather jackets. A cigarette each. The scent of the forest surrounding Neverland came breezing through the door as you sat, frozen in your spot.

“Sorry. Didn’t know we were interrupting something.” Daveed grinned as he lounged against one of the chairs, as casual as anything.

Unsure of what to say, you turned to Anthony and nearly paled. His face had hardened, become closed off and so unlike the soft-voiced boy who had just begged for forgiveness. A feeling of dread trickled like ice-cold water down your spine. In the anticipating feeling of silence, the entire room tensed.

“You didn’t.” He stated, voice like steel as he stood. “(Y/N) here was just going. Isn’t that right, princess?”

Your hands had started to tremble the moment he had said your name. A sick feeling of hurt twisted in your gut, the voice in your head telling you to curl up and build walls fast. And that was exactly what you did. You stood; chin held as high as possible, mustering every last shred of dignity you had left.

“Oh, of course. Call me again when your split personality disorder starts acting up. Perhaps we can plan for some time when your clique won’t interrupt and you won’t have to turn back into a spontaneous prick.” Your hands, still shaking, were shoved deep into your coat pockets to hide them from sight.

Anthony’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent. Though you didn’t know it at the time, you had hit him where it hurt most.

“You sure you can find your way back through the forest, babe?” Lin smirked, arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway. “It’s getting awful dark out there.”

“I’m competent. It’s something we don’t have in common, I’ll be fine.” You managed, fighting tears that prickled behind your eyes. If you could just get out of that wretched place. You moved forward, surging for the door but couldn’t find your way past as Curly took a place next to Slightly.

“Come on,” he raised an eyebrow, head tilted to the side. “There’s no need to be mean about it.”

As you opened your mouth to throw something back, the feeling your stomach getting worse and worse with every moment, Tink shoved her way to stand next to you.

“Alright, alright, just shut it Chris. Slightly. Move, moron. I’ll walk her back to the highway.” She rolled her eyes, giving Lin a generous shove.

There was no way you’d let that chance go. As you stepped forward, your peripheral registered just a glimpse of Anthony. He had his head dropped, you couldn’t see his face, but there was a resignation in the way his shoulders were set back.

Fuck him, your mind volleyed against the wave of sentiment rising. Just go.

And you did. Thankfully, Tink didn’t say anything during the walk and though it was silent, it was a welcomed moment. The light was fading, and you were incredibly grateful for the cover it provided as you turned your head, hiding the stray tears that rolled down your cheeks. Pippa, though you didn’t know it at the time, had noticed but refrained from commenting.

As the highway came into sight, the familiarity gave your restless heart a bit of ease. As you rummaged through your jacket to find your phone to call a cab, Tink hesitated, unsure of whether she should leave or not. In the end, she took your silence as acceptance and turned to leave, tucking dyed strands behind her ear.

“Wait!” You called out, cell in one hand as you turned to look at her retreating back. She froze and turned, in the midst of lighting a cigarette.

“What do you want?” She raised an eyebrow, skeptic.

“I just…” You breathed out, staring at the ground. “Thank you.”

She exhaled a breath of smoke, pausing to think. Then, a half smile lit up her face and she chuckled. “You’re welcome.” Stepping forward, she reached into her pocket and offered you a cigarette, to which you declined.

“Listen,” she sighed, looking down as she absently cracked her knuckles. “You should know that Pan…he…well he’s different.”

“He’s an asshole, is what he is.”

“No, he’s…different.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “I’ve never known a boy so fucking ballsy in my life, honestly. Nothing scares him. Well, except for you.”

Incredulous, you laughed coldly. “Me? Yeah, right.”

“No, really. He was really shaken up after that encounter this afternoon. Like I said, nothing scares Pan. Except for feelings.” At this, she raised her eyebrow at you. “That boy has never known love in his life. And it’s funny; I used to think I had a chance with him, until…well, until that night at the club. Until you.”

Too full of emotion and thought, you let out a frustrated grown, hands tightening into fists. “Jesus, I just…I’ve got to get home.”

She nodded, already stepping backward as she started on her way back. “I know he’s a dick, (Y/N). That’s a given. He’s just not that much a dick when he’s spent time with you. Think about that.”

With that, she disappeared into the underbrush of the forest. It seemed Pan wasn’t the only member of the Lost Boys who could fly. As you slid into the cab, mumbling an address, your mind was an entire hurricane. There was no centre to this one, no eye to provide calmness or just a brief moment of actual sense. All day, your opinion of who this Pan character was had been in flux, ever changing and you had thought that, in your anger, his cold words would cement your hatred for the boy. Yet still, this was something your frazzled, hectic mind could not comprehend at the time.

Whoever he had decided on being, Anthony was soon becoming all you thought about.

#anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos imagine #hamilcast imagine #king of the lost boys #peter pan au

[wildestthicket]

She came into my work the other day, which isn’t like. Impossible. I work at a specialty store that people come into every day and she just happened to show up when I was working. I didn’t know she was back in town, she didn’t know I worked there.

My brain was so jarred that it spat out someone who didn’t know her or recognize her, and she pretended not to recognize us either. I went to the back and had a meltdown after she left.

She messaged me on facebook about a week after it happened to apologize since ‘I’ had asked her never to contact ‘me’ again. She wanted to check to see what she should do so I felt safe at work to the point of offering to get someone I didn’t know come in and get stuff for her so I wouldn’t have to see her again.

I just want to tell her what happened and why shit fell apart the way it did so I’m going to write it down here to sort it out for myself at least and so I don’t message her on an impulse because this all feels too much like fate.

In high school I became the host again (afaik iv, Fe, and Sly showed up intermittently when they needed to, as you do) and met her. Long story short she was my best friend and I was completely in love with her. We had a lot of the same interests, she introduced me to books and music that are still important to all of us. Most of my world had her somewhere in it. It was like that for two years and I know there were problems, things weren’t perfect. There was the self professed ‘native american fetish’ of hers and other stuff I can’t call to mind right now. I didn’t have the guts to bring it up and chance losing the most important person to me right then.

And for once the person who was the most important to me seemed to really care about me too? We talked constantly and. Yeah. I don’t know. Two years of having someone I could tell anything and feel like just maybe it was mutual. I got a notebook that I was determined to use as the notebook to plan my novel, which she’d listened to me blab about for hours on end. She wrote something for me in the back of it and made me promise not to read it until I had filled the book.

Then she graduated and I had my back surgery. I’m not sure at which point I went dormant, but it was somewhere in the first two months. It was too painful, and I was horrified that in my eyes I had elected to ruin my body. Eli became host because he was made for handling pain and we still aren’t sure if our brain copied my pertinent personality traits onto him, if we were similar to start with since we were two versions of the same kid but with different jobs, or if we had a drastic personality change that everyone around us chalked up to growing up and going through intensive surgery.

Either way, I went away. In my place was someone who knew who Kelowna was, but didn’t have any emotional attachment to her whatsoever and was terrified and disgusted by himself over how little he cared. But he couldn’t have. He also couldn’t have known. I used to hate Eli so much over letting her go and not trying harder to hold on to that relationship, but how could he have?

For a while he kept texting her, he went up to visit her a couple times after she moved away. I think I showed up at one point during the second trip. There’s an entire page of a sketchbook we bought on that trip filled with the words ‘MAKE IT WORTH IT’. There was this feeling that Eli had of going through the motions while we were around her.

At some point after that second (I think there were two? I honestly can’t remember) trip communication started to drop off. I think that was when I stopped fronting altogether because I thought we might never be able to transition because of our back surgery. The next bits are blurry for me. At some point during grade 12, after not having talked to her for a few months, Eli got a new follower who started to interact with a lot of his transition related posts. Their url kind of implied that either they were trans too or at least were trans centric, he didn’t think much of it. He liked the attention, like any of us would. There’s one specific post we remember where this follower said something like ‘oooh can you make me coffee in that outfit?’ and another where they called Eli handsome in one of his shirtless binder pictures for a review of it so we decided to check out their blog to determine if this was a creep or someone we wanted to maybe be friends with.

We scrolled for a little while, it looked like a diary blog and an account of her wife’s transition. Then at the very bottom of the blog there was an apology post addressing Eli (or me, I only chose the name Keirren because when we sorted system stuff out, Eli was the one doing it and the name was effectively his at that point. I chose Eli when I figured out I was trans, but Keirren was the first name I chose for myself online so I went with that one in the end) by name. I can’t remember the exact contents of the post, that memory is Eli’s, but the gist of it was that she felt at fault for letting the relationship fall apart. Eli knew that he was the one who ghosted, but at that point had no idea why he’d done it.

He exited the tab and decided to just not address it. School was too stressful to bother with much else, our Nanny had just died (which made iv go dormant for a while, also cutting off even more of our emotional range) and our parents’ abusive behavior was at its worst then.

A couple weeks later he decided it was best to just say something instead of beating around the bush, and went to find the apology post so he could reference specific bits of stuff to make sure he got everything. The post had been deleted. He figured that the apology (that he didn’t really think was necessary, in fact he thought he should be the one apologizing) was retracted, that she didn’t want to get back in contact with us again.

That was that. For a while. She kept interacting with him through that blog, and had no identifying information that would have tipped us off to it being her on it if we hadn’t seen that post.

There were a few instances of him checking the blog to see if she had made another post at us and the two of them vaguing back and forth.

Eli felt. Skeeved out. But he didn’t know how to go about addressing any of it because there was this big fucking hole in his memory, or reasoning, or something, about why he’d just let go of someone who had been so important to ‘him’. He graduated, took a gap year, and at some point during that, she texted us.

We had no idea she still had our number, and she sent us a shitload of texts. I don’t remember the contents of any of it, all I know is that it ended in Eli telling her to fuck off and never contact us again. Partly because he was scared of sounding like he was making excused or a bad person for not knowing why he did what he did, partly because he was understandably angry and freaked out.

I think it was a few months after that that Eli finally gained an inkling of what was going on with our brain, that there was an ‘us’ instead of a ‘him’. At that point it was just Fever and iv. Then we went to university.

Cue one of the worst mental breakdowns Eli has ever had, bad enough that he got sucked inworld after a hospitalization and I got spat back out to the front for the first time in... Three years? Maybe a little less, but this was the first time I was solidly present for more than a handful of hours in at least two years. At least that.

The last two years while we were away at school and trying to survive halfway across the country aren’t. Super relevant to this so I’ll give some highlights.

Eli told his partner about all of the above. We figured out that it was me who was friends with Kelowna, mostly since I missed her so fucking much and kept wanting to get back in contact with her. I became a member of the main fronting group after pulling some really horrible shit and consequently patching things up with the people I hurt. I grew up a lot, and I’m so fucking happy I got to where I am.

There were a couple times that our paranoia got so bad that we thought we saw her around the city we were in even though that was nearly impossible.

During a visit home with Eli’s partner (wait shit, this particular instance would have been before they moved with us. Okay so this was with Eli’s partner, but just before they moved with us) we put all of the stuff of Kelowna’s we still had in a bag, drove down to where her parents lived in the middle of the night, and chucked it over the fence. Eli wanted closure, I knew all I would ever do with that stuff was use it to cling on to memories and a relationship that would never go back to how it was before.

So for the time between my re-emergence and now, I’ve grown up a lot, but I still spend a significant amount of time thinking about her. About what could have happened differently. Wanting to tell her what happened. Sometimes knowing it’s just out of my need/want for closure over the whole situation, and other times self righteously going ‘She deserves to know after what I did to her!’. I’m not sure how true either of those things are.

I’m either a holder for all of our feelings and memories of her, or I just plain old fucking miss her because she was my best friend. Maybe I’m bitter because I want my life back still. Because I didn’t get to grow up and I probably never will. All I ever wanted was to prove that I could make it out of high school and survive out from under my parents’ thumb and not give up or kill myself and that didn’t happen. Maybe I’m projecting. I didn’t kill myself, but a lot of me still feels like I gave up. I don’t know. i have a lot of shit to sort out and this tangent is getting out of hand.

About half a year ago, we moved back here to get our shit in order. We got a job, we got on assistance, we figured out a living situation for the time being.

And then she walked into our job about a month ago.

Then she messaged us about two weeks ago.

And all of this, all six years of this condensed down into rapid flashbacks and memories I wish I’d never tried to push away coming back to me, came bubbling back up.

I miss her so much.

I know it’s the stupidest thing but the messages sent us just sound like she’s grown and changed a lot.

I still want to tell her and I have no idea what to do.

So I spent an hour writing all of this so I wouldn’t message her and so I could get all of this sorted out in order in my head and I think I have things as in order as I’ve had them in a while

And now I have no idea what to do with all of it.

Like, great, I have a chronological account of what happened how I remember it happening, but where do i go now? At this point I’m just writing this to keep myself from switching back to the Facebook tab I have open where I have her message up and talking to her.

So. Yeah. That’s been my month.

#kelowna #keirren shut up