#don't say go fic

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 15.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

(I know the gif isn't Troy in his room but it's all I could find that would be similar to him sat on his couch - work with me k)

You wouldn't describe the rest of the day as awkward, but there was a definate tension between you and Troy which neither was willing to acknowledge.

Aside from that it had been nice to do something that felt relatively normal. Simply wandering the ranch and speaking to people - as Troy whispered his opinions on them in your ear as you walked away - had made a nice change of pace from running from the dead, escaping the living and simply retreating into your bunk to hide from the world.

It was as you finished your meal in the food tent and you spotted Jeremiah eating at the opposite end to yourself and Troy that you asked if you could see his place.

Troy stilled for a few moments before nodding once. You assumed it was only because he knew his father wasn't in the house and couldn't kick you both out again that he agreed. You had a slight spring in your step as you walked back toward the main house and even though Troy was still tense at your side you saw the half-smiles he tried to hide as you linked your arm with his.

The main living area was familiar, although it didn't look as imposing in the daylight. Jeremiah's desk looked smaller, messier. You eyed the bookshelves and the pictures on the wall, breathing in the smell of wood and dust.

"Where's you room?" You ask as Troy seems to hesitate, his shoulders stooping a little as he also glances around the place he called home. You could feel a sort of fluttering in your chest and realised he was nervous.

"I'm not going to pounce on you, don't worry." You say teasingly.

Troy scowls slightly, but its the cute scowl that tells you he's not actually mad.

"I don't know, this could all be part of a ruse to steal my virtue." Troy says mockingly as you laugh. He grabs your hand and leads you upstairs.

The house is dark but still warmly inviting with the sun streaming in through the windows. You end up on the top floor and Troy opens a door and ushers you inside.

It's a large size for a bedroom, more like a studio really. There's the usual dresser and mirror with an old shirt tossed over it. A leather couch and matching chair sit at the foot of his bed. It was all very... brown. With reds, greens and oranges thrown in. It felt like Troy.

You took a deep breath and smiled. It smelt like him too.

"Cosy."

You say as Troy stands by the door, one hand still on the handle as if he's unsure if he should close it or not. You give him a small nod, realising he is waiting for permission to shut you both in. The door closes with a soft click and the tension that was in the air before immediately changes to something... else.

You take a small step further in, toward the bed, then you realise how it might look and change direction to the couch. You take a seat, perching on the edge and look around. The room is quite neat without looking like it hasn't been lived in.

"It's nice. Much nicer than my bunk."

Troy, who has stepped into the room to lean against his dresser, shifts a little uncomfortably.

"I didn't mean anything by that..." You add quickly. "I was just saying... you have a nice home."

Troy takes a look around, his brow furrowing as if taking everything in for the first time.

"I guess..." He says slowly.

You sigh and lean back into the couch. It's worn, a little lumpy, but comfortable enough.

"I'm trying to picture you growing up here. Was this always your room?"

Troy's arms are crossed over his chest and his feet are kicking at a folded section of the rug.

"As long as I can remember." He says flatly.

Your hands press along the cool leather fabric. There was something off about him, he was giving off the energy of an animal trapped in a cage.

"Hey," You say softly and raise a hand to beckon him over to you, "come sit with me."

Troy's eyes fix on your hand before he crosses the room in just a few short strides, placing hisnpalm in yours as you slide over to give him space to join you. When he sits he mimics your posture, head leaning back on the edge of the couch to take in the slowly turning fan on his ceiling with arms relaxed at his sides.

Except for the hands which are intertwined with each other.

The tension seems to ease a little and you smile at nothing in particular.

"I had a great day today." You say quietly.

Troy smirks, "You're very easily impressed then."

"And aren't you lucky." You tease back.

Troy, usually so quick-witted, takes a second to realise your implication. His foot nudges yours as if to reprimand you. You chuckle and nudge him back, slightly harder.

"I'm not playing footsies with you. We are sophisticated adults." Troy tells you firmly as you grin.

You jab him in the ribs with your elbow and laugh.

"Speak for yourself!"

His eyes slide to you, darkening with the promise of retribution.

"Oh? That how your gonna be?"

You raise your free hand in a mock surrender.

"Wait... okay I won't-"

Your own ribs come under a sudden ambush of that most devious and dreaded attack, the tickles. You shriek, trying to lean away and escape as Troy uses your joined hands to hold you where you are.

"Surrender! I surrender god damn it!"

Troy sits back, victorious.

"Dirty move." You glare.

Troy gives you a grin that makes your stomach flip.

"There's no reward for fair fighting if you're on the losing team." Troy tells you, and its something in his voice that makes you think of Jeremiah. It sounded exactly like something the man would say to his son.

You were about to try and bring his father up when a sudden knock on Troy's door has you both frozen for a moment until Troy pulls you up by the hand, gesturing for you to be quiet and pulls you to stand beside the door where you'd be hidden once it was open.

You scowl a little at having to hide like this but if it meant avoiding Jeremiah than you could live with it for now.

Troy opens the door and you're able to see the way his shoulders relax.

"Jake." He greets.

"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment. We've got a problem with some of the dead caught up in our fences."

Troy sighs.

"Get Coop to handle it."

"Coop's on watch. Dad asked for you to deal with it. It's your responsibility - his words, not mine." Jake added quickly at the end.

Behind the door you silently roll your eyes. Jeremiah would find any reason to keep you and Troy separate as much as he could.

"Fine. Just... give me a minute."

Jake speaks up again as Troy goes to shut the door.

"I can walk her back to the bunkhouse, if you'd like."

You go very still as Troy glares at his brother. You can hear the supressed laughter in Jake's voice.

"Come on, little brother. You're too old to be sneaking girls into your room."

You smile to yourself before popping your head under Troy's arm and around the door.

"Hi Jake!" You smile, always genuinely pleased to see him.

He smiles back at you and quirks an eyebrow at Troy.

"I'd say you've got less than ten minutes until Dad gets back. Maybe go round the back way... see you out front."

You wave goodbye as Troy huffs. Troy escorts you from his room and you feel disappointed to be leaving. It was comforting there. Troy does indeed take you out through the back way and around the side of the house where Jake is waiting with his hands in his pockets, trying not to grin at you.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Troy tells you, and you get the feeling you're being handed over to Jake like a child.

"You know I can walk back to the bunk by myself. Or even around the ranch! I don't need an escort all the time."

Troy looks a little embarrassed.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you're okay, especially after..."

"We didn't mean to offend you," Jake adds. "But I'd enjoy the walk with you and one last check up would put my mind at rest with how you're recovering."

"Fine." You agree, knowing it was just an excuse to put Troy's mind at ease.

As Troy heads toward the source of the problem Jake keeps a steady pace at your side and begins to speak.

"So, how are you feeling now?"

"Actually quite a bit better today," you say honestly. "It's nice to be normal for a while."

Jake nods understandingly.

"That's good. I was getting worried about you being stuck in that bunkhouse for days."

You smile thinly, remembering how comfortable Troy's room was compared to your living arrangements.

"You don't need to worry. I'm feeling much stronger."

Jake pauses for a few moments and even though you don't share a connection that links your feelings you can still tell from his face he is contemplating asking you something. You smile at him.

"You know you really need to work on your poker face."

Jake looks at you, confused.

"What's up Jake?" You ask, making it clear you could read him like a book.

Again he hesitates, running his hand over his head just like Troy tends to do when thinking.

"I was just wondering how things are going... between you and Troy."

You feel your heart skip a beat and a slight heat rise in your cheeks.

"Really? Why?"

Silently you're wondering if Troy had said something to him. Brother's talk like that, didn't they?

"I just know how... intense... it can be when you find your soulmate. I thought I'd check in, see if you needed anything."

You smile a bit more warmly and shake my head.

"I think things are going fine. Although..." You remember earlier, the way Troy had seemed to shut off from you somehow.

"Actually, I do have a question. About soulmates."

Jake waits, looking at you expectantly.

"Is it possible to... hide something. You know, from the bond. Feelings?"

Jake tilts his head as if unsure of what you mean.

"Do you mean like being able to feel each other's presence?"

You shake your head.

"No I mean... I could tell something was wrong with Troy earlier. Something he didn't want to talk about. I couldn't get a sense on how he felt."

Jake continues to look confused until his face softens.

"You know, my brother is a... complicated person. It can take a while to get used to his habits. He doesn't really open up much but just give him time."

You begin to feel frustrated, Jake clearly was missing the point. He places a hand on your shoulder and gives a comforting squeeze.

"You know people think being soulmates is easy. That you'll just connect and everything will be perfect. But it's hard. A relationship still takes time and effort. You'll learn to understand each other and soon you'll be able to read Troy the same way you read me!"

Something begins to settle in your stomach as Jake speaks and you begin to realise something. You smile and laugh a little, as if what you're about to say was just a funny joke.

"I know right... wouldn't it be great if soulmates could just... feel what the other was feeling all the time!"

Jake lets out a laugh.

"Oh yeah, that'd make things a lot easier!"

Your stomach drops but you keep the smile on your face as you reach your bunk and Jake bids you a good evening. Once inside you sit on the edge of your bed and begin to shake slightly.

It was clear that Jake had never experienced a shared emotion with his soulmate. Was this just an exception between them specifically? Perhaps influenced by her sickness and closeness to death?

Or... was the exception you and Troy. Your bond.

Was their something wrong with you.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #ftwdfanfic #troy otto x reader #soulmates #soulmate au #romance #dark romance #don't say go fic

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to! #this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol. #faer fic

[drberfarious]

"percy takes annabeth's last name—"

"annabeth takes percy's last name—"

"they combine last names—"

"they don't even get married because of hera—"

give me a crackfic where percy and annabeth kill zeus and hera and anyone who stands in their way just to get married, and, in killing zeus and hera, they become gods, eliminating the last name problem because they won't even HAVE last names as gods

#all of their friends go wtf until percy and annabeth tell them that hera wasn't letting them get married #we don't want college rec quests #we want marriage-induced coup d'etat's #the last name problem™ #someone's not going to read all the tags and say that percy would still wants to be a jackson for his mother #even though crack isn't supposed to be thought out #watch #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #fic idea #crack fic #dark!percy #dark!annabeth

[joonsytip]

Say Don't Go || Wonwoo

Synopsis: You say you love him but Wonwoo says nothing back.

Word Count: 0.7k

A/N: Just one of my self indulging thoughts.

Sequels : So It Goes | All Too Well

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

"I like you, a lot. I have had feelings for you since the university days. Been quite a few years."

Silence looms upon the atmosphere. There's a very neutral expression on Wonwoo's face, he isn't surprised.

Your grip on the clutch tightens, "Seems like you already know and you're not gonna say anything now?"

Wonwoo stares at you unwavering. He asks, "What do you expect me to say? That I like you as well?"

"Don't you?", you step forward, closing the gap between you two, "Tell me I read the signs wrong."

There's a slight change in his demeanor, his eyes flash something you should never witness so he looks down in the pretense of fixing the tie.

"Your family consists of conglomerates including yourself. I'm just a secretary who works for Seungcheol. Both him and his wife are your friends. You all belong to the same circle, I don't.", Wonwoo painfully narrates.

"It doesn't matter, as long as you reciprocate my feelings.", your voice falters, "Please think through."

"Easy for you to say. Do you even know how hard it is for people like me who aren't born rich? People already think I'm leaching off Seungcheol and if we get together there's no end to it. I'm used to it but you won't be able to take it even for a day because you're sensitive."

"If you know that I'm sensitive then why are you hurting me now?"

"It's better to get hurt now then to regret it later. You're not a teenager anymore, stop acting like one.", his words cut sharp at you.

"If all that matters to you then what about my feelings? It seems that they're the only ones those doesn't matter.", you wipe the tears streaming down your face, "Do you even know how hard it was for me to muster up the courage to be here. I am so used to liking you in silence that it made me back out every time I thought of confessing to you."

There's nothing Wonwoo wants but to run to you, engulfing you in his embrace. He wants to kiss away your tears, he wants to murmur sweet nothings in your ears.

He has always been wary of his financial background, more because he only has a brother who's sick and hospitalized. He's scared because he's seen the conspiracy Seungcheol's father plotted against his wife making them part ways back then even though she herself is a heiress. He has seen his friends suffering to no extent. To him rich people are selfish and wicked.

He couldn't afford to hurt you, doesn't want to fall prey to the rich and influential when there's already a lot on his plate. So he resorts to holding himself back, like he always has.

"Don't you like me? I know you do..."

Wonwoo exhales heavily, "No, I don't like you. Sorry if I have ever given you mixed signals but that was never my intention."

"Don't do this please because I'm serious, I might be in love with you--"

"You should leave.", he speaks not looking in your eyes, "There's no point having a baseless conversation."

"Are you sure? Because I'd stay forever if you say don't go."

"Just go Y/N. And please don't do this ever again. It was very uncomfortable for me."

You sniffle and nod your head understanding, "I'm sorry, just forget that this ever happened."

Just as you turn and make way to head out, all the memories flashes. The butterflies in his stomach when you both had teamed up for a fest event in university. When you smiled so bright at him always making his heart flutter. When at every party he searched for you because you're the reason he attended those in first place . When your drunk self bravely clung on his arm pulling him close and leaning on his shoulder at the seashore in comfortable silence while others drenched themselves in the waters at a spontaneous trip. You're his serotonin boast, you're his paradise in gloom. But he would never say the truth, never say out loud that it's not only you but he might love you as well.

After he ensures you're out of his sight, faraway, he collapses on the ground, gasps in pain. The glass falls from his face breaking in pieces like his heart is, filled with sheeting cracks. He has become a terrible mess.

"I like you too, Y/N.", he confesses in tears to the void which you had occupied till few moments earlier.

But you're not there to listen.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

#wonwoo fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt fanfic #svt angst #wonwoo angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen angst #svt au #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenario #svt scenarios #svt imagines #wonwoo au #seventeen x y/n #svt x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fanfic #say don't go #wonwoo oneshot

[pencilofawesomeness]

from chapter 10 of Famous Last Words in May Death Never Stop You by the amazing @slexenskee

I've wanted to draw this scene ever since I read it lmao. Fun fact I was eating lunch at the time and I was laughing so hard I had to leave the room since someone was watching tv. Good times, good times.

#fic may death never stop you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #my hero academia #mha #gojo satoru #eri #mha eri #endeavor #todoroki enji #if what satoru was wearing was described in the next chapter I missed it #I had fun putting band references on him lol #with at least one say it aint so lyric just for the homecoming occasion #and of course my favorite #the sugar we're going down bracelet #it looks so inappropriate in the first frame but this is gojo so it fits #idk how to draw children being held please squint past the parts that don't make sense #satoru killed his dad dead #all of those gray hairs enji has are definitely his fault #he's back in this man's life for 5 minutes and he's already causing untold stress #as all things should be

[katsu28]

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp 

navigation

(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been. 

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly. 

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.” 

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?” 

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.” 

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?” 

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today. 

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.” 

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?” 

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.” 

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.” 

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in. 

Shit. It was you. 

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though. 

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter. 

“Wait, what—” 

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.” 

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—” 

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.” 

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it. 

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes. 

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes. 

Would he do anything about it? Probably not. 

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it. 

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.” 

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.” 

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.” 

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?” 

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?” 

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You. 

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered. 

“Well then they’re idiots too.” 

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.” 

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed? 

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.” 

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf. 

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?” 

“Am I allowed to say neither?” 

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips. 

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would. 

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!” 

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization. 

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly. 

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more. 

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit. 

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor. 

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way. 

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.” 

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out. 

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things #joe keery #if u saw me say goodnight earlier don't look at me #what is it with me and posting when i should be sleeping #is anyone awake #does anyone even read tags anymore tho #anyways if you've gotten this far hi thank u for reading i love u #MWAH #ok im actually going to bed now #goodnight <3 #happy valentine's day besties

[yashley]

fearne: *is an Animal* imogen: *Gives Scritches*

#critical role #imogen x fearne #imogearne #ygifs #honestly god himself had 2 stop me from adding John mulaney's I Think Imogen Temult Is a Furry but yk what I don't need 2 see it 2 see it #imogen calling horse fearne a good girl like I've read enough 1 fic to have that ruined for me but I will absolutely definitely take it #not shown here but snake fearne in episode 3 just flicking her tongue at imogen to say hi ok yeah I mean sure #also rat fearne and imogen hijinks of imogen tryna shove her tiny rat ass through the BOTTOM of the door like sure I mean yeah #fearne turns into an animal and imogen goes I mean yeah thats mine #also means NOTHING to me that Imogen suggests quokka and fearne goes so I'm going with quokka as if that's not druid flirting OK I hate it h

[tokidokifish]

bc i'm curious:

please note the RANDOM fics qualifier: i'm not talking about fics from authors you're familiar with, this is just "you're in the tag for a pairing and come across a fic" type situations.

#me? i skim at best #this is why i always find the ppl who say they don't wanna extensively tag so they don't spoil their fic weird #bestie i'm not paying that much attention #if i like the summary that's what i'm going off of

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

#witch hat tag #orufrey #er.... i'm too tired to have anything to say..i worked several days on this. #wait.. didn't i say just recently here that i probably wouldn't ever depict 'what if alaira is qifrey's sort-of ex'. What's going on #i don't even remember deciding to draw this..it's all a blur..i'm not sure why i WOULD decide to draw delicate scenes in my head #that i wouldn't really want to share with anyone/discuss so why did i draw it... #some part of me really really wants to draw things that are more and more true to myself... #maybe because of my alienation with most romance/shipping/dynamics the rest of the world depicts. #orufrey really is perfectly suited to me - what i read in the text and what is in my head. well anyway #i am TIRED of drawing poses and angles and..maybe now i will actually take a break from drawing bc of the tediousness of Angles #btw it really is a 'stretch of time' . . . assuming witches graduate age 18-20 #well orufrey are canonically 30-ish. they've only had agott around for presumably about TWO years (?) bc she took the test age 10 #and it feels like oru moving in/unknown atelier acquisition/building (?) .. i guess that could be a year or so before agott at most #(she was the first disciple) so... ????????? What about the other 7 or so years ?!?!?!!?!?! Unemployed Brimhat Hatred era #that time is very nebulous. after qifrey went to the tower i feel like it's been implied he and oru drifted apart a little. #certainly they didn't live together at first... no way. that doesn't feel like how it is based on things oru has said about becoming Eye #idk. I'm tired now. i don't usually think of alaira as necessarily qifrey's ex and this being how things went in that 'sliver of time'. #i usually prefer the idea that they have their first kiss with each other in their 30s cause That's Just The Orufrey Lifestyle #just felt like making a more relatable alternative view of my own Cai Orufrey Canon one time. btw im a big monoshipper and it hurt a bit #let's leave it there. this is surely the most i've worked on a 'single' art - though now i realise just how much longer the fic took :')

[youweresomagnetic]

Say Don't Go // Tom Blyth

Pairing // Tom Blyth x reader

//known it from the very start, we’re a shot in the darkest dark.//

You knew coming into this movie a several months ago that you couldn’t let your feelings for your co-star, Tom, go to your head. From the first reading you two shared, there was something inside of you that longed for him. You couldn’t decipher whether it was his wavy brown hair that made his baby blue eyes stand out, his charming British accent, or his easiness that made being around him so comfortable. Probably all of it. Meeting him flipped some sort of switch inside of you that made you think about him 24/7 and you couldn’t turn it off.  If you knew taking the movie was going to hurt this bad, you probably wouldn’t have taken it. But how could you not? This was your first big break after doing smaller acting gigs for years, and with the movie being based on a New York Times bestselling book it was already going to be a hit. The internal battle naturally ended with you convincing yourself that you could suppress these feelings until filming was over and then move on to your next job. If anything, you could use these feelings to your advantage and allow them to show during takes. You knew you were a great actor. It was proven when you landed this role of a lifetime, but there was no need for acting when it came to you two playing love interests. At least on your side anyway. You’ve come to love him, but you knew you couldn’t. He had a girlfriend.  

You quickly snap back to reality from daydreaming about him as he casually calls out “hey,” from across the room where he just finished shooting his last scene of the day. He swiftly throws on his jacket, slings his bag over his shoulder and then walks towards you with a delicate smile on his face that makes your heart do a small flip in your chest. His smile is the most beautiful smile you swear you’ve ever seen. 

“Want to go grab a bite?” he asks breaking you from daydreaming. Again. 

Of course you want to say yes, but spending a million hours a day with him already has your heart in shambles. No need to add to the heartbreak. Although recently, you’ve been filming scenes separately and haven’t seen him around as much. It’s hard not to miss him. Feelings aside, you’ve found a true friendship in him. You just wish your heart would’ve allowed the feelings to stay at a friendship level.

“I don’t know, it’s been a long day and I-”

“No excuses,” he playfully cut you off. “I was getting used to having you around so much.” His smile faded slightly as he paused and looked into your eyes like he wanted to say something more, then decided not to. A short moment passed then he continued, “I know even if you’re not hungry you’re always down for a drink.” He winked as he finished that last sentence. He was right. He doesn’t know that you drink around him to swallow your feelings though.  He grabbed you by the arm and said, “come on, first glass on me.” You can’t help the pink that rushes to your cheeks as he leads you towards the exit.

There’s a small pub about a block away from where your movie is being filmed. It’s become an all too familiar place as it’s where you find yourselves whenever you get a chance for a break. The food is decent, the drinks are good, and it’s a chill, private atmosphere. No one bothers you and you can simply just be. A pang of bitter sweetness hits you as you realize you’re going to deeply miss this place when filming wraps.

You find your usual booth near the back while Tom stops at the bar for the drink that he promised you. You take in the warm and comfortable atmosphere and feel thankful for evenings like this. A few minutes go by before he slides into the seat across from you with drinks and some fries for you two to split. 

“So where is your girlfriend tonight?” you ask genuinely curious because it’s already getting late, and you’re surprised that he didn’t want to head home to her. Or to the hotel rather since she sometimes comes into town to be with him. 

“She’s out of town right now on a job, and currently working crazier hours than we are.” he states. 

You found it shocking that anyone could work more hours than you’re already putting in, but his girlfriend is also in the film industry, so you understand that it just comes with the territory.  “Ah, I see.” you say before sipping down some wine. You smile lightly at the fact that he knew your favorite without having to tell him. 

Before long you check the time and realize that 2 hours have flown by. You’re shocked every single time by how quickly time goes by when you’re with him. You wish it didn’t. Then you start realizing how quickly the whole thing is flying by. The filming, the long days on set starting to feel like short ones when you look back on them, the early mornings spent around your hair and makeup crew, the coffee runs to make it through the longest days, the laughs shared between everyone, and of course evenings like these. Fuck you’re going to miss these evenings. You feel a deep ache in your chest as you already feel this moment turning into a memory. It’ll all be over and gone too quickly. He will be over and gone too quickly. Suddenly your thoughts are racing one hundred miles per hour. You want to tell him that you hope you can still stay friends even after all the press runs and you’ve moved onto future separate projects. You want to tell him how much you love his friendship and how it's come to mean so much to you over these past several months, and how much you’ve loved every memory that you’ve made together, and how much you love him-   “I love you.” you spit out before you even had time to stop yourself.

Time stood still. 

You are in utter disbelief with yourself and more than anything you just want to run and hide. You would do anything to be anywhere else in this moment.  You knew it was the alcohol talking. You knew you should’ve only had one glass. But one quickly turned into three, and anyone who knows you knows that three may as well have been five or six. 

You stare blankly at each other. His face is unreadable. You secretly pray to whoever is listening that this is just a dream. 

“I just mean that I’m so thankful that you got cast with me. I couldn’t have asked for a better person… I’m going to miss this, and I love you for everything you’ve done to help make this something unforgettable.”  you ramble hoping that was a nice enough save to cover your ass. 

//the waiting is a sadness, fading into madness.//

There’s only silence between you two. There are a few other people in the pub enjoying drinks in comfortable presences around you, sharing laughs and you find yourself jealous that you’re not them right now. You feel yourself slipping into madness as the stillness between you and Tom drags on. You find yourself holding your breath in fear over the fact that you can’t tell what he’s thinking right now. You and Tom have always been able to read each other ever since you got close. Spending countless days with someone allows that to happen eventually. But right now, you’re even more scared that he could read you. Did he see past the excuse you tried to make? What if you haven’t been hiding your feelings as well as you thought you have?  Does he know how you feel about him? You’re convinced he knows now. You can’t wait for him to speak anymore; you need to leave. You need fresh air. Or literally anything else. You begin sliding out of the booth and you feel his rough hands land on top on yours, stopping you. His eyes demand eye contact with yours. His eyes as blue as the prettiest ocean you can imagine, his eyes that feel like home, you give in. 

“Tell me.” He begs with a softness to his voice that you aren’t sure you’ve heard before. 

This time there’s no questioning what he’s thinking. You know he’s asking for truth. Of course he knows you well enough to have read through the lame excuse. You retract your hands and fall back against the booth seat trying to regain comfortability, but there’s nothing comfortable about this. 

“You already know,” you whisper then sigh before continuing, “I meant it.”

//why’d you whisper in the dark just to leave me in the night?//

You brush your anxieties to the side and look up at his face. He looks…sad? Are tears forming in the corners of his eyes? You’re not talking anymore, it’s his turn. 

“I love you, too.” 

You’re paralyzed by his words, but you can tell by the way he said it that it’s not that easy. There are too many improbabilities forcing you two apart. You should be happy at his confession. Instead, you’re left feeling emptier than before. It’s almost worse knowing he feels this way but will ultimately return to the one he loves most. You wish you never would have spoken. You wish he would’ve just pretended to not hear you say it. Anything other than this, because you know what comes next. Work will continue around drowned out feelings that can’t be acknowledged from this moment forward. Neither of you have to say it, you can feel it. This night will stay a secret. 

Through falling tears, you and Tom share a look of understanding. You love each other. But you can’t. This time when you slide out of the booth and walk toward the exit of the tiny pub that was once a happy place now turned into a heartbreaking memory, he doesn’t stop you. Halfway to the door, you’re holding out hope for him to say, “don’t go.” You would’ve stayed forever if he did.

#tom blyth #taylor swift #say don't go #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth imagine #coryo snow #tom blyth x you

[rayssion]

Solangelo fic idea because I love them,

Soulmate au wherein once you're claimed the mark of your soulmate appears as a tattoo on your body, it might be the same place as your soulmate, it might be different. If your soulmate is a mortal then only a letter 'M' appears.

Everyone is so worked up because Will never showed his mark, some of them speculated his soulmate is a mortal, some of them argued that it could be unrequited love like his soulmate might be Annabeth but she found her soulmate so he's destined to be alone. No one knows for sure, except for his sister Kayla.

The helm of darkness? Geez who could it be? The only child of Hades out there is Nico di Angelo. Will is 100% sure that the boy despise his guts, also he heard from Kayla that the boy already has a crush, and he's not sure if the concept applies on roman demigods, but didn't Hazel have a soulmate already?

Will never shows his mark, he felt devastated especially that the son of Hades is quite distanced.

Nico tries to operate between his pitiful crush on Percy, Jason who's urging him to let go and find himself another person, and his own mark.

The little sun tattooed on the side of his torso.

Funny thing, everyone thinks his soulmate is a mortal.

#bonus if people were treating Will like he's the epitome of straightness #like Nico's mark tells him it's a child of Apollo #so he just assumes it's a girl and he doesn't like the idea #so here there a lot of shit until Will confronts him and asks him if there are more children of Hades somewhere #he answers no. not that he knows #another time Will asks him about Pluto then and Nico replies the same #“listen. I don't know what's going on but my mark is the helm of darkness. can you help me find my soulmate but please don't tell anyone?” #then cue the journey looking for Will's soulmate #Nico thinking it's a girl but also can't help himself but falls for the boy. he might be his soulmate after all #and Will just having identity crisis until he says fuck it and kisses Nico one night #blah blah blah marks exchanged everyone's happy the end #nico di angelo #william andrew solace #will solace #will x nico #nico x will #nico and will #solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #solangelo fic #solangelo fic idea #post hoo #hoo #look at me providing you guys with a happy ending

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 13.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You lay in your bunk staring into nothing. Cooper was stationed outside your door on Troy’s orders. Troy was…

You reached for him, trying to locate him on the ranch. You closed your eyes as your senses felt like they were stretching out into fog, blindly scrabbling for the warmth that usually came with your connection.

You could feel him, but he was somewhere beyond your usual reach. You scowled and opened your eyes. Perhaps he had left the ranch entirely.

You couldn’t help reliving those moments by his fathers desk. You had demanded Cooper take you to Jeremiah and although the man who was easily twice your size had initially refused you’d somehow managed to convince him. Perhaps it was out of some loyalty to Troy, or that he could simply see the desperation in your eyes and took pity on you, but you couldn’t stand by and let Troy take the blame for a mess you’d created.

You felt awful as you saw Mike limp away with Jake, but at least he wasn’t dead. Once you had calmed down you realised he must have seen you running from the tent and been trying to help, and you’d almost gotten him killed. Perhaps Jeremiah was right about you. You were just a burden to everyone on the ranch, including Troy, who had barely said a word to you once his father had dismissed you all from his sight.

You’d avoided looking at him when he’d taken you by the elbow and steered you through the door, down the steps and toward the bunkhouse. Thankfully the militia had dispersed those who had been drawn to the ruckus so you had no prying eyes upon you now. You’d glanced up at him as Troy signalled for Cooper to follow, unsettled by the empty expression on his face.

Your stomach dropped. His fingers around your arm became painful even though he held you gently. You dropped your eyes to the floor and remained silent as the bunkhouse came into sight.

“Cooper, I want you on watch until sunrise. Do not leave this spot, do you understand?”

Cooper stood tall, nodding as he replied with a firm, “Yes, sir.”

For a second you couldn’t breathe.

“Where are you going?” You managed to say.

Troy didn’t answer right away. In fact he didn’t even look at you. Cooper, who had a knack for pretending he had gone suddenly deaf and blind, tried to blend into the wood of the bunkhouse.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You opened your mouth to speak again only to be met with a more forceful, “Tomorrow.” Before Troy turned and walked away.

You were frozen to the spot, staring after him as he disappeared into the dark. You heard Cooper clear his throat and the familiar creak of the door opening before you tore your eyes from where Troy had faded from sight and bolted inside, locking the door behind you.

You’d washed up, dumped your clothes on the floor and wrapped yourself in fresh clothes before crawling beneath your covers.

Cooper’s shadow at the door was a small comfort as you wondered what was happening now. What would they do with the body of the man you had murdered? What would they tell people?

And Jeremiah… his reaction had both surprised and confused you. You’d expected anger, for his declaration that he’d been right about letting you on the ranch being a mistake all along, but instead he’d actually reacted with what could almost have been… compassion? Oh, he’d offered no solace or comfort, but you’d seen his eyes change and his expression shift as you’d began to speak of your past with the burned man.

Your stomach clenched. Would they figure out that you were the one to cause his injuries? Or had the man already spoken of you when he’d been found in the wild?

Your thoughts wouldn’t allow you to sleep and you were still staring blankly at the wall when the sun began to rise. Outside you heard voices, Cooper was speaking to someone. You were on your feet in seconds and pulling back the bolt on the door, hoping it would be Troy making his return.

Your eyes fell on Jake and the disappointment on your face was obvious. He bid Cooper goodnight before asking if he could join you inside.

“It’s your property,” you said weakly, and stepped aside.

It was like deja vu when he closed the door behind him and took his usual seat at the table. He pulled back another chair and gestured for you to join him. You did, without comment. Dread was heavy in your heart and you only wanted to know where Troy had gone.

A terrifying thought crossed your mind. Had he sent Jake to tell you to leave?

The older brother must have seen the fear in your eyes as he leant back quickly, giving you your space.

“I’m not here to hurt you, or berate you for what happened,” he said quickly. “Troy asked me to relieve Cooper at sunrise. Since you’re awake it might be a good idea for us to talk.”

Your relief was short as anxiety made you tremble. You clenched your palms together tightly, feeling your nails digging into the skin.

“We need to understand what happened tonight. I know you spoke to my father, but we need the whole story…”

You almost couldn’t speak your mouth had gone so dry.

“Troy,” you said hoarsely, “I’ll tell Troy everything when he comes back.” He was the one you owed an explanation to. The one who, as your soulmate, would surely understand…

Jake looked at you, his expression soft and almost pitying.

“I remember what it was like, you know. The Pull. The way it consumes you entirely, makes you think you can’t breathe without your other at your side…”

You stared at the floor. Yes, there had been moments when the force that had led you here, to Troy, had stolen your ability to think straight with its intensity. But you’d assumed it was part of adjusting.

“Does it get… easier?” You asked.

Jake’s gaze shifted to the window, he looked lost in thought for a moment as a sad smile pulled at his lips.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You could have kicked yourself. Of course you knew what had happened to Jake’s soulmate. She had died mere months after they’d found each other. Jake had spent the entire time knowing he would lose her.

You couldn’t imagine knowing for certain that Troy would be taken from you. It felt like there would be nothing left inside you; you’d be a shell, a husk. Barely any better than the dead who wandered aimlessly.

Jake looked back to you, the sad smile gone.

“You can tell me, or write it down if that’s easier for you. But one way or another we need to understand… we need to know.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

As your story left your lips it was as if you were listening to someone else speak, retelling a movie they had seen or a story they’d heard on the news. You were blunt, factual. You’d been separated from your parents in the military camp, and when the bombs dropped and the fires spread they were trapped.

You didn’t tell him how you’d begged your parents to just try. To try and escape. To live. So scared they were of one dying without the other that they had chosen to stay together where they knew they’d die in each others arms.

They’d abandoned you.

No, Jake didn’t need to know that.

And so you explained how you’d walked aimlessly for days, avoiding the burned out areas and scavenging what you could to survive. You’d been at the edge of the city, unsure of where to go next when they had come upon you…

Jake listened to your story without a word. His expression was calm. Even when you’d gotten lost in the memory and been unable to stop yourself telling him how the father had held you down and told his son to “be a man”…

You could hear it in your ears as if he were standing beside you. You shivered before dropping to your knees, a wave of sickness overcoming you.

Jake was there at your side, his hands hovering but not touching. You breathed deeply as he began to count and you found his voice urging you to breath in time with him made the dizziness stop.

“Sorry… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning…” you made the excuse.

“It’s okay. I know this is hard, but you’re safe.”

You looked up from where you were hunched on the floor, your fingertips digging into the wooden floor.

“Am I?”

Jake, the first truly kind face you’d seen for so long since this whole disaster began, carefully laid a hand on your shoulder and, when you didn’t flinch away, smiled.

“As safe as I can promise you can be in the apocalypse.”

You almost cracked a smile, especially when he continued.

“After all, as Troy’s soulmate you’re practically my sister now. I always wondered if having sister would have been… different.”

You sat back on your heels, feeling steadier but not ready to stand just yet.

“What do you mean?”

The carefully controlled expression was back and Jake shook off what he had just said.

He made himself more comfortable on the floor beside you and you knew it was back to the questions about your past.

“I need you to tell me honestly…”

Your heard skipped a beat.

“The man said he was attacked. His burns… you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

It was like a mask slipped over you, a shield between you and Jake who had just referred to you as his sister. You wanted to trust him. To believe his intentions were good, but the last time you’d put your trust in a stranger… it had led you to this.

“No,” you said.

Jake’s eyes changed, his brow knitting together as he watched you thoughtfully.

“No one would blame you.”

Really? You thought. You’d set two sleeping men on fire and run. Although you felt no guilt for it you knew it wasn’t the sort of thing normal people would have done… would they?

You could have just escaped. You could have stolen a gun and shot them as they slept… but you’d chosen to burn them.

To make them suffer.

Didn’t that make you a monster too?

“It must have happened after I escaped.”

Jake continued to watch you before nodding once. He seemed to believe you.

“Okay.”

“What about Mike?” You remembered suddenly, feeling a little guilty at having forgot the injured man.

“He confirmed what you said, and so did the other guard who should never have left you alone in the tent.” Jake said with a scowl. “He was running late to takeover watch when he saw you running. He went after you when you didn’t respond to his call and, well, I suppose it’s understandable Troy assumed what he did.”

You fidgeted with your fingers in your lap, sighing tiredly.

“I feel terrible. I’m so sorry. Will he be okay?”

Jake smiled.

“Troy could have killed him if you hadn’t stepped in. Instead, Mike just lost a pinky toe.”

You blinked before a snort of laughter escaped you. Jake did the same, looking baffled for a second at your reaction before chuckling quietly too.

“I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You admonished yourself.

Jake shrugged, “It’s a little funny, the way he was wailing… I was scared he’d lose his foot until we got his boot off.”

This time you really did laugh. The feeling was strange, in fact you felt a little woozy, as if you were drunk. You put it down to exhaustion and hunger as your eyes began to water with a mixture of relief and amusement.

Jake let you have your moment as you wiped the moisture from your cheeks, your smile slipping as reality began to set in again.

“Will you tell people what happened to me?” You asked. You didn’t know if you could handle people’s pity. Or their judgement.

Jake shook his head.

“My father is a hard man but he understood what you told him last night. He won’t need the details. No one needs to know what happened. We’ll tell people… the man died of his injuries, he turned and you fled in a panic. With it being dark Troy thought Mike was one of the dead coming after you…”

You wrinkled your nose, unsure of the lie but grateful that Jake would cover for you.

“And Mike’s okay with that? He’s not mad at us?”

Jake shrugged.

“He’s in pretty deep shi- trouble for not being on time for guard duty. I think a little white lie will even things out.”

Jake continued when you looked unconvinced.

“He and Troy have been friends a long time. He’s seen some of the worst of my brother and still…”

Jake stopped, leaving you curious about what he meant. People had a lot of strange things to say, or not say, about your soulmate and you were beginning to think you weren’t the only one with secrets.

“Will you tell Troy?”

Jake didn’t need to ask what you meant. He scratched at his head, a habit you recognised from Troy when he was unsure, before speaking.

“I think maybe he’d be better hearing it from you. But of course if it helps, I’ll tell him whatever you need.”

You smiled, feeling genuine affection for Jake. Was this what having an older brother was supposed to feel like? Like someone really had your back.

“I don’t know about that. He seems… really mad.”

Jake’s eyes widened before he frowned.

“Troy? You think he’s mad at you?”

You nodded.

“Why wouldn’t he be? I’ve brought him nothing but trouble-“

Jake shook his head.

“Trust me. Troy isn’t mad at you.”

Jake was being annoyingly cryptic. Who else was there to blame?

You weren’t able to question him further as the door to the bunkhouse swung open and Troy suddenly appeared, standing still in a halo of soft light as the sun rose behind him.

He stared at you and Jake and you realised what an odd sight it must have been with both of you sat on the floor.

His brother lifted himself to his feet and drew himself up to his full height as he regarded Troy carefully. You’d have done the same if your legs didn’t feel like jelly beneath you.

“Brother.” Jake said oddly formally in greeting.

Troy gave a small nod of his head in return. Jake glanced back at you, where you still sat unable to take your eyes off Troy as you noticed he hadn’t yet looked directly at you.

“Perhaps we should talk first-“ Jake began before you cut him off.

“No,” you pulled yourself unsteadily to your feet. “I can do it. I can explain.”

Jake hesitated and you could tell he wasn’t sure if it was best to leave or not.

“It’s okay.” You said with as much of a reassuring smile as you could muster.

With one last look Jake nodded before passing his brother to exit the bunkhouse. His hand momentarily gripped Troy’s shoulder and gave a brief squeeze before he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.

It was just you and Troy now.

In the silence you could hear your own heart beating, the sound of your own uneven breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, forcing your voice to remain steady, “if you want me to leave, I’ll go. I’ll understand.”

Troy stared at you, his eyes managed to glow with intensity in the pale light of the sun.

“Go?” He finally croaked. “Why would I want you to go?”

You dropped your gaze and tried to keep yourself steady.

“Because of what I did. Because of what almost happened to Mike because of me.”

Your eyes shot up as footsteps moved toward you. For the briefest of moments you wanted to take a step back, to avoid the outstretched hand Troy had reached out to you with as if his touch might have harmed you in some way. You must have flinched, the sharp intake of breath seen by Troy as he stopped in front of you and slowly dropped his hand.

Your eyes were fixed to the floor. Your socked feet so close to his dusty boots.

“Look at me,” Troy said softly. It wasn’t a command but you were unable to resist the request regardless.

Your chest ached as your eyes met with his. His face looked tired, the curls of his hair were in need of taming as if he’d been running his hands through them all night. You noted the shadows beneath his eyes as guilt enveloped you.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Perhaps The Pull wasn’t always right. Whatever force joined two people together must be wrong sometimes. For you to be such a burden on your soulmate was unbearable. You’d always thought the love you’d seen between your parents was what was to be expected, they had brought each other both peace and happiness.

You’d brought neither to Troy.

Your frantic thoughts were interrupted when Troy placed two fingers gently beneath your chin and tilted your face upward.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. If… if you want to go…”

You swallowed, the movement in your throat unmissable to Troy whose eyes followed your every breath.

You wanted to shake your head No, but the touch of his fingertips on your skin burned so pleasantly you couldn’t bare to risk losing the contact.

“I’ll understand,” Troy continued, “you were supposed to be safe here. I was supposed to keep you safe.”

You frowned as Troy dropped his hand from your chin and took a step back. Jake’s words came back to you, how it wasn’t you that Troy was angry with.

“You’re blaming yourself,” you breathed.

Troy could no longer look you in the eye.

“I should never have brought a stranger into our home. I should never have left you alone-“

“Stop it-“

Troy ran a hand over his head, pulling roughly at the dark curls between his fingers just as you’d guessed he’d been doing all night. You closed the space between you and reached up for his hand, untangling it from his hair as you gripped it tightly to stop him pulling away.

He looked at you now with a slightly wild expression on his face. You realised just how exhausted he was. You knew what that level of stress and tiredness could do, he wasn’t thinking straight.

“You helped someone in need. Just like you did with me-” you began before Troy cut you off.

“I’d been looking for you. Even though I didn’t understand why at first…”

You couldn’t help the small smile on your lips.

“You couldn’t have known who he was. It’s not as if I’ve been entirely honest with you about my past.” You admitted, trying to ignore the squirming in your gut and slight tremor in your voice.

Troy looked at you now with such intensity you almost forgot how to breath. “You can tell me anything. I… I’ve done things too. Things I had to do.”

You nodded in understanding. The world was now a dark place and although you hated to admit it, sometimes embracing that darkness was the only way to survive it. You remembered the choking sounds of the man whose throat Troy had watched you cut. He’d told you you’d looked beautiful, a statement most would find odd or frightening in such a situation. It hadn’t frightened you. It had made you feel like an avenging Angel in Troy’s eyes.

“I never meant to cause so much trouble.” You said honestly.

Troy shook his head as a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “It’s about time someone else round here caused some.”

Your heart was no longer thundering in your chest, but it was beating hard as Troy’s fingers brushed over the back of your hand where he still held it tight.

You noticed as he began to sway ever so slightly, exhaustion finally overcoming him. There was still so much you wanted to say, to ask him, but perhaps right now was not the time.

Instead you took a steady breath and licked your suddenly very dry lips.

“Would you stay with me, here, to sleep?”

Troy blinked at you, glancing to the bunk you’d claimed as your own and back to you as if it were taking some time to process your request.

He had slept in the bunkhouse with you when you’d first arrived, but he had kept a respectful distance. There hadn’t been much physical contact between you yet, other than when you’d jumped into his arms when Mike had frightened you it had mostly been brief spells of holding hands when you walked outside the bunkhouse. And neither of you had minded, there was no need to rush things after everything you’d been through and Troy wasn’t exactly used to displays of affection. So when he nodded it was because his voice had suddenly failed him. The bunk was small, perhaps he was expected to sleep on one of the other empty ones…?

You made your intentions clear when you walked over to your bed and slid beneath the blanket before holding it open for him. Feeling dazed Troy kicked off his boots and placed his jacket over the nearest chair. He sat on the edge of the bunk before stretching out beside you.

He’d been right. The bunk was too small for two but you didn’t seem to care as your hand found his again and wound his fingers between yours.

The only sound for a few moments were those of your own breathing and the first songs of the birds from outside. As Troy’s eyes began to slide shut you spoke quietly as the morning sun began to fill the room.

“Troy?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

You didn’t see but the muscles in Troy’s face twitched as he almost smiled in his half-awake state.

“Then don’t.” He said just as quietly.

You did smile then, and for the first time since you’d set eyes upon your soulmate you felt a knowing in your heart and in your gut that The Pull had been right, because you were finally home.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #ftwdfanfic #troy otto x reader #no y/n #soulmate fanfiction #soulmate au #don't say go fic

[astrid-beck]

Do you guys ever think about how Archmage Astrid probably inherited a class of volstrucker trainees. Like that program was alive and well when she took up her post and even if she wanted to change it eventually you cannot end a program like that overnight. You still have to look at a teenager with rocks in their arms and decide what to do with an abandoned science project soldier who doesn't even have the consolation of being finished or powerful or old enough to drink

#i have GOT to finish my post-canon fic #diaclaimer i don't actually think the empire has an american drinking age but u get what im putting down right #i was going to say ''old enough to vote'' but. well. #lena watches cr #critical role #astrid becke

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

Will the teasing of the fire be followed by the thud? [x]

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #just a little humbug angel alex for you #i still don't know if i believe that he was real #much more likely that he was just like a fantasy we all collectively dreamed up #idk it just seems fake that this creature actually existed do you know what i'm saying #😭😭😭 #anyway i just needed to make this for several reasons #one of which being that it got me in the zone for my fic #got me in the zone so gooood #now back to the doc i go #humbug angel alex #humbug era #the fire and the thud #my gifs

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 21

PREVIOUS

“What made you think taking on a mafia hitman was a good idea?” Andrew asks as he and FF were positioning themselves the best the could for an ambush on Romero.

Since, they APPARENTLY had time to talk.

Romero had gotten the text Andrew had sent him and INSTEAD of coming out right away to progress the whole SCHEME to kidnap and murder Andrew’s Junkie like any sensible goon Romero went to the BAR. Romero went to the Bar to get him and Jackson a round of CELEBRATORY drinks. Romero is still there at the bar waiting to be served by an INCREDIBLY nervous Roland if the number of exclamation marks and puking emojis is to be believed.

What the FUCK is there to celebrate?

These two idiots want to kidnap NEIL and so far the only thing Romero knows (thinks) that they’ve caught are two people that Neil would come for but even in Andrew’s text he’d been clear that he needed help getting ‘The boyfriend and the new friend’ to talk let alone getting them to call ‘The Wesninski Brat’ out. Andrew had hated typing the name in reference to Neil but it was the only thing the two ever referred to him as in their chats.

Is it some insane mental game that Romero thought he and Jackson were going to play on Andrew and Smith? Toasting to their torture so they’d give up Neil? Who knows.

He realizes that FF hasn’t answered him, his eyes focused on the door when Andrew’s thoughts had drifted. A reliable guy, steady in a pinch, and focused like most the others weren’t.

(Andrew does not know that FF is thinking about how one would go about becoming a Mafia Hitman. What is that career path like? Do they show up at job fairs? Do you get a job as a short order cook at a business that acts as a front and see to much but you’re also the only one that knows the secret spaghetti recipe the boss likes so you have to sign yourself to the family? Are you out doing your own freelance crime and someone higher up sees your work one day and literally head hunts you? Is it like in Saw where you survive an ordeal and then-)

“Smith?” Andrew draws FF’s attention away from the door.

“I didn’t think it was a good idea at any point.” FF says and Andrew is surprised by the admission and is more surprised by the twist of FF’s lips into a frown, “I just did what I thought I needed to do.” He adds.

(Andrew does not know that the twist of FF’s lips has more to do with the fact that he is realizing that Romero likely STILL has not washed his hands. Romero hasn’t washed his hands and he is going to hand Jackson a DRINK with those hands. Ugh. Honestly a contract killer AND someone who doesn’t wash his hands? Who RAISED him? What does his grandma think of this? FF hopes she’s disappointed in him.)

“You thought you needed to lure a hitman into an alley?” Andrew asks because the plan is stupid even if so far it has worked out for FF. The fact that Romero hadn’t just come out when he sent Jackson the signal is only due to FF’s good luck and their stupidity.

“I didn’t have a lot of time to think up anything more than the first plan I thought of. I saw him looking at Nicky on the dance floor.” FF says with another twist of his lips as he self-consciously rubbed at his cheek. It’s never fun to have someone who has time to pick apart a plan that you barely had time to form. Andrew can understand the irritation and is glad that FF isn’t lashing out at him for it.

(Andrew does not know that FF is not irritated he is just remembering that he had held up his broken toilet bowl phone to his face to pretend call Captain Neil. He’s contemplating asking if Andrew maybe possibly has a wet wipe? Actually the murder van probably has bleach to clean up evidence, maybe he can just dip his face in there for like a minute.)

“Don’t use a plan where you martyr yourself. I already have to deal with Neil’s bullshit tendencies.” Andrew says instead of thanking him. “You should have just called me.” He says.

FF just holds up his phone, “Dropped into a club toilet. Completely unusable.” He says and yeah that makes sense. FF would have probably just texted Andrew but coming out and seeing a hitman going after Nicky probably made it impossible for the freshman to go get help without drawing all the attention to himself first if he wanted to make sure Nicky stayed safe.

Still.

“You dropped it into a toilet? You haven’t even had anything tonight.” He says because that clumsiness is not something he expects from FF.

“You try taking a pee next to someone on the FBI’s most wanted list and see how dry your palms remain when he’s talking about grabbing one of Captain Neil’s friends to lure him out.” He says with a brow raised.

That’s fair.

He figures that Romero hadn’t even noticed FF standing there. FF was incredibly good at just making himself unnoticeable (to Andrew’s occasional great annoyance and to Kevin’s great desire to study him for Exy related purposes).

“You recognized him?” He asks.

FF’s gaze slides to him, “I looked up a lot about the Foxes after I signed.” FF answers before his gaze slides back to the door. Roland had just texted Andrew that he’s getting Romero’s drinks ready (Two bud lites. Those are the celebratory drinks he waited for?? Embarrassing.) “I really looked up to Captain Neil. So, I read a lot more about him than anyone else.” FF admits but the fact that FF looked up to Neil was not in any way shape or form a secret.

FF was the only one who was ALWAYS paying attention to whatever Neil was saying and never argued with it. Even Andrew tended to just get lost in the sound of Neil’s voice when he’s going over Exy plays and not actually listen to the plan. FF’s eyes were always right on Neil and his actions on the court showed that he had been paying attention and knew what he was doing. Kevin also listened but he tended to fight Neil on the finer details of plays, strategy or anything else. FF was the one who would just nod and do his part in whatever possible play Neil had broken down for them.

FF was also categorically incapable of referring to Neil as anything other than Captain Neil.

Neil had bristled early on at it. He had thought it was a mocking title, something FF was saying to rile him up because that’s what Freshman Foxes did. That’s what Freshman Foxes always do. FF slid into the team without a whisper of rebellion and it hadn’t taken long to realize that FF was using the title with sincerity even if his monotone did not perfectly convey that.

It’d been that sincerity and that ease that had FF be the only option he’d considered when Bee said he should consider expanding his friend pool.

So if FF looked a little deeper into Neil’s past and sees Neil’s part in it as something to respect, something to admire?

Well, he personally thought he always had great taste in people. (He ignores the voice in his head that sounds like Nicky complaining about Kevin still not knowing German despite it being the family language.)

“You sure you don’t want one of my knives or the knife Jackson had?” It was pretty big and Andrew didn’t think it would work well with his general style but maybe FF could use it somehow. He was uneasy that FF was going into this fight unarmed. FF still hadn’t talked about how he’d taken out Jackson when the man had a knife like that.

“Do I look like Crocodile Dundee to you?” FF asks with a raised eyebrow and Andrew has to pause a moment for the movie to load into his brain before he offers an amused quirk of his own lips.

FF is a funny guy.

His phone dings. “He’s on his way.”

***

Aside from thinking about how nice the conversation he was having with his friend Andrew (his friend! His friend Andrew! God how is he going to admit to Gran that Andrew was never planning on stabbing him? She threatened to come over and square off with the ‘mean young man’ bullying him. He’s gotta go grab the makings for a secondary pie to even start to make up for this. Maybe Andrew would prefer a cobbler? He should ask his friend his preferences.) he was thinking about how he really wished they hadn’t had a cut away from Gracie Hart showing all the various forms of self defense she knows in the movie.

He had no idea if he could do a repeat performance of S.I.N.G. with Romero.

It’d be nice to have a few more things in his repertoire because all he has is striking Romero with the heel of his hand in the nose, getting grabbed from behind to throw him over his shoulder (which what if Romero is shorter than him? How will THAT work. Gracie Hart guide my steps!), and of course S.I.N.G.

If he survives this he might write a letter to the writer.

The door opens and honestly FF and Andrew agreed that surprise and speed were going to be their best weapons. The two of them go in for a full body tackle but Romero must just be a higher class goon than Jackson was since he manages to body them away. The door shuts which is mostly what they wanted anyways. Romero can’t go back in and grab someone to use as a shield.

He sees Andrew pull out his knives and now FF realizes that any level of threatening Andrew had done before must have mostly been in jest or just as intimidation. When Andrew wants to stab someone it’s obvious that he’s aiming to stab them.

Romero manages to parry Andrew’s first stab with a move that FF had seen on the ‘how to handle someone coming at you with a knife’ videos. FF sees Romero go in to bash one of the Bud Lite bottles over Andrew’s head so he launches his water bottle at Romero’s hand. The bottle falls and shatters harmlessly on the ground.

He kicks Romero’s other hand since the water bottle bought him time to get close. “You fucking brat!” Romero hisses.

He sees Romero reaching for something at the same time Andrew is going in for the second round of stabbing. Romero dodges out of the way but FF can see what might actually for real be an entire gun concealed in his jacket.

He can see Romero going for it. Sees the same smile on his face he’d seen inside as his hand wraps around the handle.

FF doesn’t think.

FF doesn’t think because if he does he’ll freeze.

So FF acts.

“Gun!” He yells and runs full force tackling Romero as hard as he can but unfortunately he tackles Romero into Andrew.

The three of them grapple on the ground. It’s hard to keep track of what limb is who’s and he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally hit Andrew a few times instead of Romero but he’s also pretty sure that Andrew punched him in the stomach so he thinks they’re equal. Finally FF gets a hand on the gun that Romero had been trying to get the safety off of and he knocks it out of Romero’s hand. “You kids will-“

Romero doesn’t get to say anything else because Andrew manages to land a punch right to his jaw that has Romero go limp under the two of them. They look at one another and Andrew manages to pull the handcuffs they’d purloined out of the Van while they were waiting off of the belt loop they were hooked onto and gets them around Romero’s wrists.

They stare down at the second unconscious man on the FBI’s most wanted list in the alley.

Then they roll off of him and onto their backs. Both of them wheezing from a combination of exertion, adrenaline, and (at least in FF’s case) a fair amount of pain (Christ Andrew packs a PUNCH his stomach is already sensitive. It’s a miracle that punch hadn’t made him puke.)

“That was…so stupid.” Andrew pants.

“Yeah probably.” FF admits.

They lay there for about a minute and FF thinks that maybe someone will need to carry him because his stomach is KILLING HIM with all this.

“Alright let’s-“

Andrew is sitting up and looking at him when he stops talking.

FF doesn’t really know what the issue is but starts to sit up, “Don’t you DARE.” Andrew hisses and FF finds himself being pushed back down to the ground to lay flat. “Don’t move Smith.” He demands and is pulling his phone out of his pocket as he keeps a hand on FF’s shoulder.

FF doesn’t really understand what’s got Andrew so upset all the sudden. “Andrew, what’s-“ he tries to sit up again. Is there a third person and Andrew wants him to keep down? There’s not really cover here they should move towards the dumpster maybe?

“Smith, I told you to not move.” Andrew hisses before whoever he’s calling seems to pick up. “I need police and an ambulance. We’re at Eden’s Twilight in the back alley.” He looks to FF, “What’s your blood type?” He asks.

FF has NO idea.

“I don’t know.” He answers and Andrew makes a disgusted sound. “Andrew, what’s-“

Then he sees it.

He doesn’t quite get how he missed it before now.

“Huh.” He hears himself say.

That’s Andrew’s knife handle sticking out of his stomach.

It appears that Andrew Minyard may have stabbed him in the stomach.

“Well, that’s about what I expected.” He says and lets his head rest against the pavement.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

Per your requests:

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

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#Fluent Freshman AU #He was RIGHT all along. #The Cassandra of Anxiety #He just kind of had no idea that it would be an accident #Vote now on FF's blood type #I will just say this now that this is not going to be a story where FF dies and Andrew's upset #This is me thinking that this is kind of a funny way for this night to end considering everything #If FF had a phone he would absolutely text his gran on the ambulance ride over #FF: SO I WAS BOTH COMPLETELY WRONG AND RIGHT #FF: Andrew wants to be my friend but due to bizarre circumstances he sure did accidentally stab me tonight #FF: BTW do YOU know my bloodtype? Because the nice EMT lady keeps asking me if I'm sure I don't know. #But FF doesn't have a phone so maybe he drifts a lil closer to the afterlife for a comedic reunion with great gran #GG: You're going to be okay. There's no way you'll die in a fight against a man who doesn't wash his hands #FF: I'm scared to check the state of his skin behind his ears. #GG: Exactly #AFTG #AFTG Fic #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #My Fic #Let's see if you all can find all the various lil jokes that I've made knowing that THIS #THIS is how this night was always gonna end for FF #I've gotten a kick out of putting them in #FF - Pt.21

[morganski-19]

Robin passes Steve's room blaring the 1989 rerelease while she hears Steve violently sobbing. She goes straight to the living room and sees Eddie sitting unbothered while watching TV.

"Did you break up with Steve so he can listen to a new Taylor Swift album the right way again?"

Eddie's eyes go wide. "No, he said I didn't need to do that for this one. Why, is it bad."

"Come here," Robin makes a motioning wave of her hand while they go and stand outside of the door.

I said "I love you" You say nothin' back Why'd you have to lead me on? Why'd you have to twist the knife Walk away and leave me bleedin'

"Oh, that's rough," Robin whispers under her breath.

"Should I check on him?"

"I think the song is on repeat, so maybe."

Eddie knocks quietly on the door before opening it slightly. "Hey, baby. You need anything?"

Steve is cry singing the words into his pillow as a response. Eddie turns around and shrugs at Robin, unsure of what to do. Robin shrugs back. Eddie walks up to the bed and rests a hand on Steve's shoulder, letting him know he's there while pausing the song.

"How long have you been listening to this song, baby?"

"Like five times," Steve mumbles into the pillow.

"Do you want me to stay or do you need a little more time by yourself?"

Steve rolls over, showing the wet stains on his pillow. "One more time, then you should come in."

"Ok, I'll be right outside if you need me before then."

Eddie shuts the door quietly before sliding down the wall next to Robin. They sit there silently as the song starts playing again. "So he's feeling some things," Eddie starts as Steve starts to sing to it again.

"Thank god they're on good terms right now or she would be getting some really intense messages right now."

"Honestly she still might be."

#saw a tik tok saying that Say Don't Go was Steve Harrington's song and nothing has made me stop thinking this #so here you go #for context #modern au where they live in an apartment together #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #fic let #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet