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let-me-love-you-loki · 5 years

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Waking Up in Vegas--Ch. 27

Chapter 27: You Brought Me to Life

Dean, Morning, 8:21 AM

I would never get tired of waking up next to Mera. She was a morning person, someone who was usually up and wide awake not long after the sun came up. Me… not so much. I stayed up late and hated the morning sun more than just about anything. But there was something about opening my eyes and the first thing I saw was my wife in bed next to me. It was a rare thing for me to wake up before her.

She was curled on her side facing me, one hand tucked up beneath her pillow. Honey colored hair spilled out over the sheets, wound up in knots and curls that were halfway tamed by an elastic band. There was a faint pink hue along the line of her cheekbones. Freckles dusted over her nose. Her lashes cast shadows on the fullness of her cheeks, making her look so young and innocent.

I couldn’t understand how I’d gotten so lucky. For seven years, I’d loved her from afar. I’d watched her smile and laugh. Every day that I got to see her was a day that I stored in my heart as a memory for the times when she was out of sight. Whenever my past haunted me, I thought of the way she smiled at me, how she said my name, how her eyes would flame with sunlight when she laughed. I thought of her and did everything I could think of to make myself a better man. A man who could—in another life—be worthy of her.

Mera let out a faint sigh and snuggled down further beneath the blankets. I brushed her hair back with a gentle touch. She smiled in her sleep, and I felt it sear into my soul.

As I watched her sleep, I thought back to the first time I met her. It was in the old building that used to be the home of FCW. It was little more than a retrofitted warehouse, but it was a place to wrestle and a paycheck. The promotion was new, so they were having this meet and greet get-to-know-you thing for us. I wasn’t much for it, but… it was a paycheck.

I was halfway through my second beer and only partly listening to a conversation with another guy when I saw her out of the corner of my eye. It was her hair. The light made it shine gold and brass and corn silk as she moved. I remember how time seemed to stop when I saw her face. She smiled and laughed as she shook hands and met people around the room. The color of her shirt—a sort of cloudy grey—made her eyes pop. I’d never seen eyes like hers.

My heart skipped a beat when she looked my way. The air rushed out of my lungs. I couldn’t get a grip on myself. My fingers tightened on my beer as she got closer. I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes, those flickering wolf eyes that hypnotized me the second she glanced my way.

Then I saw him. The guy I’d come to know as Seth Rollins, trailing along beside her, their fingers entwined. My gut dropped into my toes. Of course a woman as beautiful as her would be taken. They screamed childhood sweethearts without saying a word. I blinked, swallowed against the lump in my throat.

I opened my eyes and there she was. Two feet in front of me smelling like peaches and sangria, a disarming smile on her face as she looked up at me confidently.

“Hi,” she said, her voice swirling around me like music. “I’m Mera Reynolds.”

My mouth was dry. I coughed, trying to get my shit together. I held out a hand. “Dean.” The name felt weird. I hadn’t been using it for very long. But it would be the name she knew me by. I wished I’d said it with more confidence. “Dean Ambrose.”

She smiled until her eyes sparkled with gold. Mera Reynolds started talking.

And I started falling in love.

Even now, each and every time I saw her smile at me, I felt like I had that very first day. It was like a punch to the chest. But it was an exquisite pain. It was the best reminder that I was alive and she was mine.

Mera, Morning, 9:15 AM

I rolled over, stretching and flexing my feet and legs as I fought toward wakefulness. The scent of lavender and oleander rushed over me, reminding me that I was at home in my own bed. I breathed in the crisp smell and reached out toward Dean’s side of the bed.

The sheets were empty and cool.

My eyes cracked open. Dean was nowhere to be found. I sat up and threw the blankets off, suddenly worried that something had happened. “Dean?”

When I didn’t hear a reply, I jumped out of the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats. I rushed toward the stairs, pulling my hair back into a knot as I went. At the bottom of the stairs, I stopped. My heart beat an erratic rhythm as I took in the scene before me.

The coffee table spilled over with flowers. There were bouquets of roses—red, white, pink, yellow—and clusters of sunflowers and tulips. They were arranged in vases and tied together with silken bows. Some bunches had their stems wrapped with brightly colored ribbons. A few sparkled with what looked like strings of gems interwoven between the petals.

“Dean?”

“In here,” came his voice at last. I felt the ache in my chest lessen. If he could talk, he was okay. I sighed, feeling the smile of relief spread over my face.

I moved through the house, still overwhelmed by the sheer volume of flowers that had suddenly appeared in our living room. I finally saw Dean standing by the stove in the kitchen. His hazelnut hair was still mussed from sleep, but there was a happy smile on his face.

“Good morning, my sweet wife,” he said, weaving around the island. His eyes flashed the blue of the desert sky when he swept me up in his arms. Dean settled his lips against mine insistently. When he finally broke the kiss, desire swirled in my veins. “Did you sleep well?”

I hummed a response. “What are you doing, Dean?”

He smiled a little brighter. “Making you breakfast.”

For the first time, I noticed the skillets on the stove. A stack of silver dollar pancakes sat in the center of a plate, just waiting for some maple syrup. My mouth watered at the thought.

He followed my gaze to the food, his smile getting brighter. “Why don’t you go grab the syrup?”

I snatched one of the pancakes from the plate as I passed by. Dean let out a playful huff of complaint and swatted at my ass with the spatula in his hand. I couldn’t help but giggle as I slipped into the pantry.

In the weeks since we’d moved into the house, I’d finally gotten around to organizing the house to my liking. The cabinets had been packed just the right way—all the plates and cups and bowls that matched all put together—and the pantry had been organized exactly as I’d had mine in my apartment in Florida.

I reached up to the top shelf to get the syrup. Instead my fingers closed around something small and velveteen.

“Dean, what’s this?” I asked confusedly, gripping the item in my fingers as I turned toward the door.

He was there… down on one knee in front of me. He gently slipped the box from my fingers and opened it. Inside was a ring. One made of yellow gold, a circular diamond the size of my thumbnail glittering in the low light. I sighed softly, tears blurring my vision as I saw my husband holding out what was clearly an engagement ring.

Dean, Morning, 9:22 AM

“Oh…” The sound that she made was something between a whimper and a sigh. She pressed one hand against her lips even as her eyes filled with tears.

I took a long moment to take in the sight of her. My wife was the most stunning woman I’d ever seen, even in worn sweats and my old t-shirt. No makeup. Messy hair. Still flushed from sleep. Goddamn, she was so fucking beautiful that it hurt.

“Mera,” I said softly, hoping that she could hear every ounce of my love for her in my voice. “Will you marry me? Again?”

She giggled at that, those amber eyes flashing. They were like sunlight on honey even as they glistened with tears. Her lips curved into a smile even as she sniffled.

She bobbed her head in a nod.

I chuckled. “I’d kinda like to hear you say it, darlin’.”

As if a dam broke inside her, Mera started laughing with what I hoped was joy. She closed the space between us and brushed her fingers through my hair. She cradled my cheeks as she kissed me firmly.

“Yes,” she said at last. She said it through her tears and her laughter. But she said it.

I pulled the ring from the box and took her hand in mine. Just before I slipped it onto her finger, I glanced up, feeling the smirk on my lips. “And you’re entirely sober this time, right?”

She laughed and it was so pure and perfect that it was like music. Mera smiled, and I was suddenly thrown back to that first day. That first moment when I stood two feet from her and saw that gorgeous curve of her lips and the glitter of her eyes. Nothing had changed in seven years… only that I loved her more today than I did yesterday.

“Absolutely sober,” she replied, flushed and grinning.

The ring skimmed onto her finger, sitting perfectly below her wedding band. I made a mental note to get her a new one. One that we picked out together from a real jeweler and not from a roadside chapel in Vegas.

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Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @houndsofjxstice @xbutterflius-effectusx @mother-forker @dcnmarvelgamergeek @instantbouquetdestinysblog @lunatictoosweet

#waking up in vegas #wuiv #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #ofc #oc #wwe #wwe fanfiction #mera reynolds #dean x mera #multi-chapter #romance #angst #seth rollins

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sparklinggnome · 5 years

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To cheer herself up Misty went across the street to her Friends Aloe and Azure. She was really excited to tell them the big news!

She was met with a friendly wave from Azure who was out watering the flowers. She really didn't have any green fingers though, since all the plants looked like they could turn into dust if you as much as touched them.

“Hello Azure!” “ Hi, sweetie! You look great today! How are you feeling?” “ Mostly good. A little confused. Is Aloe home too? I have something I want to tell the two of you.” Azure shook her head. “ No she’s still at work. She’ll be home pretty soon though.” “ Maybe I should wait th-” Before she could finish the sentence she was interrupted by Azure. “No. No, no, no. No need to wait! Please tell me!” she insisted. Misty giggled at her excitement and couldn’t keep from smiling. “ I’m pregnant!”

“ Congratulations honey! I knew there was something different about you.” Azure realed in for a hug, supportive of her friend. The went inside and Azure put on a kettle of tea. Shortly there after Aloe returned home from work. She walked in through the door and was immediately greeted by the cat Bamboo. “Welcome home honey. Did you have a good day at work?” Azure asked before taking a sip of her tea. Aloe crouched down to pet Bamboo. “ Pretty good, nothing special though. Just your average run of the mill work day.” She stood back up and walked further into the room with Bamboo following her closely. “ Hi Misty! Nice to see you. Everything good?” “ Yes, it’s more than good actually. I’m pregnant!” Aloe let out a squeak and went it for a bear hug.

“ Oh my god, are you serious?! Congratulations! This is great news! How are you feeling?”

Misty laughed and assured them that she was feeling fine so far, although the morning sickness had already begun. The talked a long while about how it would be to become a parent. Aloe gushed about how cute Misty’s child would be, and insisted that she could be called Aunt Aloe. Azure told her that she and Aloe also had talked about getting kids, but they felt that they hadn't yet reached that chapter of their life.

But then Misty felt that she needed to bring up what happened this morning. She looked down at her feet and told them how he had reacted. The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. It went from being pleasant to uneasy and quiet.

Aloe sighed and gave Misty a worried look. “ I haven't said anything, ‘cause I didn’t want to hurt you... But there’s something iffy with Oleander.” Azure nodded in agreement. Misty looked at them, mystified by what they were saying. “ I just have this gut feeling about him, that’s he’s not as great has he makes out to be.” Aloe continued. “ We’re just worried about you, Misty. We don’t want you to get hurt.” Azure filled in after Aloe. Both of them seem genuinely concerned. “ To be honest, I think you should consider leaving him.”

“ No! How can you say that, Aloe? I don’t understand what you’re basing this on!” “ We’re basing it on the thing you just told us. And the thing you’ve previously told us about. Like him not paying attention to you, actually paying more attention to other women.” “ No. He doesn't do that. He's a good guy, trust me. I've just overanalysed situations before, and probably did it this morning too. And this morning, it was probably just his bad morning mood, nothing more than that.”

Beep beep.

Misty’s phone vibrated. It was a text. From Oleander.

“ Hi babe. Sorry for this morning. I slept really bad last night, and you know how I get in the mornings. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll cook you dinner tonight. ❤️”

“See..” Misty showed the text to Azure and Aloe. “Everything is fine. You don’t have to worry. I just needed to vent a little bit.”

Feeling a lot better, she got up, waved goodbye to her friends and went back home.

<-Previous III Next->

#ts4 #sims4 #berrypastelrainbowcy #ts4challenge #meringue legacy #misty meringue #gen 1

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vintage-miseries · 5 years

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Team Angry-Stupid-Loudmouth

#squad: who's friends with who? what are the squad dynamics like?

Elrick: E’s friendly with the older crowd. He’s good mates with Wallace and Fredrik, they go to the gym together. He’s also good mates with Lucius and drags the poor old sod out for camping trips.

Luke: Luke can be friends with anyone, its up to the other person to tolerate him. It goes without saying that Colin is his ride or die for life. He also gets on well with Wallace and Fredrik, and has a “working relationship” with Lucius.

Kash: Kash is another individual who could get on with anyone, you just have to be the right sort of person to enjoy his company. Bishop will be his best mate for life, though in any AU in which he comes into contact with people he and Lukan have a good relationship.

microscope: zoom in -- describe the little, insignificant details about an OC.

Elrick: Dude actually has really nice eyes, proper green in good lighting, like sunlight through ferns. He also has fairly soft hair.

Luke: Luke has the ghost of freckles on his nose, though his complexion makes them hard to see. He’s got early laugh lines creeping in at the corner of his eyes and just the faintest tinge of red in his curls.

Kash: Green eyes touched with gold at the center, cat-like and curved. Thin lips that fork into a grin. Wild, fire-colored hair that never seems to be under his control.

fragrance: what do your OCs smell like?

Elrick: Tobacco, Old Spice, hair product, cedar-scented cologne

Luke: cloves, marijuana, shea butter, warm earth, sunlight warmed clothing

Kash: Rain, sage, oleander, fire-smoke, sea-salted ocean air

photo album: describe one of your OCs' favorite memories.

Elrick: The first night that Logan came to stay, when he couldn’t stand his parents any longer. They ordered pizza and played nintendo in the loft and they shared that first, clumsy kiss.

Luke: Luke would count any warm, summery memory as a good one. He particularly enjoys the memory of the first summer he spent as Colin’s friend, sitting on a beach in Hastings smoking bowls as the sun set and telling stories over dinner of fish and chips.

Kash: I feel Kash’s life is too long to pick out particular memories, though I feel the time he convinced Bishop to become highway men for a while was probably worth a couple of good laughs, especially given their supernatural capabilities.

wardrobe: what's your OC(s) style like?

Elrick: E’s a t-shirts and jeans kind of guy. Every now and then he spices things up with a jacket, but really he can’t be fucked about fashion, and tends to wear what’s most convenient.

Luke: Luke likes a plaid top, coupled with hiking boots, graphic t’s and a beanie. Whatever’s comfiest for an impromptu hike, as he tends to enjoy random walks. He’s less a fan of dodging through underbrush to avoid the cops but in those situations his gear is idyllic as well.

Kash: Kash likes a lot of black. Black jeans/trousers, boots, shirts, and a leather jacket when the weather calls for it. He’ll wear other colours as well, but he’s truly adopted the goth aesthetic, or well - he adopted it about four hundred years ago and never gave it up.

lightning: who's the most impulsive character? and who is their impulse control?

Elrick: E’s not impulsive unless it comes to jokes. Sometimes he can’t help himself and says something a little risque.

Luke: Luke can be impulsive, often due to his ADD.

Kash: Kash’s middle name is Impulsive, or Brash, or sometimes Just-plain-stupid. He loves to take unnecessary risks for the hell of it, just because he can and because the mayhem is usually worth it. Usually.

ufo: identity! what are some key identifying qualities or traits of your OC(s)? how to they identify in regards to gender/sexuality?

Elrick: Arrogant - Funny - Hangry - Fuck-knows-Sexuality

Luke: Kind - Excitable - Addict - Asexual

Kash: Rash - Funny - Annoying - Bisexual

love note: who likes who? crushes? relationships? are they mutual or unrequited?

Elrick: E’s had only a few crushes in his life. He liked Annie, but that fell through when he fell for his boy.

Luke: Luke likes people, but couldn’t be fucked for sex or a relationship, really. He likes a cuddle, and he’d marry Colin for the marital benefits if Colin wanted to, but really he’s just here to have fun.

Kash: Kash’ll fuck anyone he finds interesting, though when it comes to love, well, there’s only one person who he’s ever truly loved, and he has a hard time admitting it.

poison: vices/bad habits? what are they? how do they affect your OC?

Elrick: Elrick has a substance abuse problem, whether it be alcohol or harder chemicals, he’s always struggled. At the very least, he’s always going to have a slight drinking problem. He also bites his nails.

Luke: Luke doesn’t think it’s possible to be addicted to marijuana - luke is incorrect.

Kash: Kash thrives on mischief and mayhem, and will always go to irritating lengths to make things difficult for other people as well as himself. He’s also a chronic liar and incredibly vain.

compass: who's the moral compass? in general: what are your OCs' morality like? do they have high morals, or not? are their morals self imposed, or do they base their morals on religion/family/influence of others?

Elrick: E’s generally a nice guy though every once in a while he can experience a moment of anger or aggression, though these are usually righteously-based. His mum taught him to be a good bloke, his brothers and sisters kept him humble.

Luke: Luke is, by society’s standards, technically a criminal. By his own and anyone who knows him he’s a generally stand up guy who goes out of his way to help people.

Kash: Kash can be as sweet as honey when he wants to be, or as cruel and vindictive as possible if it suits him. Being an ancient supernatural creature, perhaps his scale for morals is a tad different from ours, or perhaps not.

track & field: which (if any) of your OCs are athletic? what sports to they play? which of your OCs would go HARD in P.E.?

Elrick: E’s the kid playing dodgeball to maim. He really enjoyed gym and was always fairly good at it, though he never tried out for teams or made any effort if he wasn’t particularly interested.

Luke: Luke, when he actually attended school, did not really enjoy gym.

Kash: Kash did not, nor has he ever attended a school. He doesn’t know what sports are.

conspiracy theory: what are your OC's beliefs? are they skeptics or do they believe easily? who acts on blind faith? who needs to see to believe?

Elrick: E will always be a skeptic, he takes after his father in that respect. He’d need to see something in order to believe it real.

Luke: Luke loves a good ghost/ufo/cryptid story. He fully believes in all of them, and absorbs conspiracy media like water

Kash: Kash, who hails from a land of fae-folk, monsters, and supernatural beings, does not believe in aliens but feels ghosts deserve more representation.

spellbook: are any of your OC(s) supernatural? if so, what are they/what are their abilities?

Elrick: E has been every creature variant under the sun, but never as anything other than a one-off AU. Sorry E, you’re just human.

Luke: Though seperate entities, Luke did spawn from my Hell-spawn Azelgore, a multi-limbed salamander creature from the third circle of hell. He’s also, on occasion, the same looking creature but actually the Loch Ness Monster, so there’s that.

Kash: Kash is the Cat Sìth, a Scottish creature of Myth said to haunt the Highlands. His abilities include taking human form, charming people, foresight by augury, and shared astral projection. He’s also a witch capable of various old world spells and potions.

contact: how does your OC(s) feel about touch/physical contact? are they affectionate? if so, how do they display affection to others?

Elrick: E’s actually very into physical affection. He enjoys a cuddle, a fuck, whatever. He’s not too touchy with mates, but Logan gets the brunt of his P.D.A.’S

Luke: Luke loves a hug, and doesn’t mind a cuddle every once in a while.

Kash: Kash is very selective about the people he touches. He wouldn’t enjoy just anyone coming in for a cuddle, but loves a touchy romp with Bargheist.

interiors: describe your OC(s) bedroom/home/or a place they consider "theirs". what's in it? do certain items have a special significance to your OC?

Elrick: Oh man, this boy doesn’t do interior design. Their bedroom is tan, he’s got a mirror, a bed, a dresser, and a tv. He’s got a well worn but comfortable green couch out in the livingroom that he’s particularly fond of. Logan thinks it’s gross.

Luke: Luke’s whole house is his safe space. He’s maxed it out with plants and art. If there’s a free space on the wall it’s only because he’s not bought a frame yet. Or he’s broken one and needs to replace it. It’s a weird, yet beautiful little boho space. He’s also got a hammock indoors so..

Kash: Kash’s abode is a little octagon out on the Cornwall coast. The ceiling is hung with dozens upon dozens of bottles, wind chimes, and assorted peculiarities. He also has a fair collection of bones, antique books, and pretty seashells that he leaves out on display. His reputation as a ‘witch’ in the local town sends him a good bit of business during the summer months, where he hawks his augury skills to unsuspecting humans.

hobby: what do they love? what captivates them? what are their passions?

Elrick: E loves simple moments, beer shared around a campfire, the breathlessness upon reaching the top of a mountain climb, BBQ’s in the summer, an exhausted cuddle at the end of a long day, shared grins, hard fucks, and falling asleep against one another

Luke: Luke’s passions are laughter, good food, and plants. He loves the smell that comes off of a hundred sun-drenched plants after he waters them, and loves the bloom of flowers that accompanies happy cacti. He loves the bursts of laughter that accompany a smoke-up, and he loves the sleepy giggles of a come-down.

Kash: Kash will always be an enigma, even to himself. His wants and desires are always far more complicated than they seem, and he never makes things easy. He loves starlit walks and abandoned places. He loves sushi and hard spirits, forbidden knowledge and chasing the impossible, magic, and forgotten things.

psyche: what's their head space like? do they have any mental illnesses? how do they process difficult or emotional situations? what are their coping mechanisms?

Elrick: E’s coping mechanism has always been a good, quiet drink alone. He broods best that way. He gets through difficult situations by being bullheaded and stubborn.

Luke: Luke laughs himself through shit. He copes by either falling through it, or by having a mental breakdown and then realizing it wasn’t that bad afterwards. If all else fails he’ll have a smoke-up and try to ignore the situation.

Kash: Kash will use every bit of magic at his disposal to get around issues, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll pack up and move away for a while. He’s good at running from his problems, and does it fairly often.

chess board: who is the most logical? or the schemer/planner?

Elrick: E’s not ... he’s stubborn and pessimistic but he’s a natural follower, happy to let someone come up with the plan if he can enforce it. He’s the bodyguard type.

Luke: Luke isn’t so much a schemer as he is just one bad idea away from prison. He’s impulsive sometimes and tends to think of the pros before ever thinking about the cons, and sometimes this gets him in trouble.

Kash: Kash is a bona fide schemer and a dreamer, but not much of a planner. He’ll come up with an idea fair enough, but he never seems to have a back up if shit goes tits up, and it usually seems to.

shooting star: if your OC(s) could have one wish what would it be?

Elrick: He’d wish himself free of the three years they spent apart, and wish himself clean.

Luke: Luke would wish natural intoxicants were legal the world over, or like, for world peace.

Kash: Honestly? He’d wish himself more powerful tbh.

#Elrick1 #Kash1 #Luke1 #OC MEME1

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art-trash-that-is-kinda-ok · 6 years

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Oleander

(Based off of Oleander by Mother Mother. I recommend listening to the song.)

Relationships: Deitton and Creaity, Moxie and Prince Anvity (modern au where they aren’t fusions)

TW: abusive relationship, lots of swears, physical and verbal abuse, implied sexual abuse, sexual slur

@fangirltothefullest - creator of the characters

@thisismewhoops - proofreader

@akl1 - proofreader

@notveryglittery

______________

Creaity felt his hands grip the steering wheel loosely, a sad glass-like gleam glossing over his once vibrant scarlet and blue eyes. ”Hey, babe, mind dropping me off at Decan’s house?” Deitton spoke with an underlying menace, not once looking up from his phone. ”I... I thought we were going on a date today...” Creaity slowly stated, voice heavy with doubt. His boyfriend's facade cracked a bit as Deitton responded smoothly. ”Not today, Creaity.” The shorter one accidentally let out a protest, no matter how hard he tried to be a good boyfriend to Deitton. ”You said that last time.” was barely audible, yet it still seemed to run Deitton up the wall. The taller man's facade shattered completely. His gloved hands grasped the shorter man’s arm tightly, yanking it from the steering wheel. This action earned a rather pained yelp as he tugged Creaity’s torso towards himself rather roughly. ”You listen here, bitch, plans change and the world doesn't fucking revolve around you!” Deitton growled under his breath, voice dripping with malice. The angered one let go of Creaity’s arm, an agitated red handprint replacing its physical copy. With a rather annoyed huff, he started mumbling under his breath angrily. ”Out of his mind... Broke this relationship...gotta pick up all the broken pieces...” were the words caught by Creaity’s keen ears, and he reached his left hand over to rub the mark.

You stood beside me

When I was out of my mind

I broke the glass

And you were there to sweep it aside.

”I’ll tell you what, ” Deitton chanced a glance towards his puppet, noticing his rather pained expression. ”How about I take you out to dinner and a movie? You get to pick which one~” Deitton’s voice was sweeter than usual and the words beckoned Creaity to kiss his cheek, agreeing upon removal. ’He never means it.’ Creaity told himself, letting a small smile slip onto his face. ’He loves me and I don't want to lose him.’ the thought reverberated in his mind, pulling forth a more sinister thought. ’It would kill me.’.

And if you leave me

Rest assured it would kill me

______________

Moxie invited Creaity and Prince Anvity over for some tea, he knew that they both liked the calming effects. He was setting up his kitchen with different types of tea, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through the house. A considerably loud knock alerted Moxie that Anvity had arrived. The pastel goth scurried over to the dark pink door that Anvity stood behind, pulling it open to reveal his 6’9, flamboyant significant other. ”Hey, honey, have you seen Creaity?” He uttered, crushed in the bear hug he received. ”No. He hasn't really been showing up lately, huh?” Anvity answered, a deep frown set into their face. At that very moment, they heard the rushed footsteps of clicking high heels. ”H-hey guys! I'm sorry couldn't make it to the other meeting's, something came up.” Creaity apologized, hoping they didn't notice his limp or the burn mark scorched into his palm. ”Well, come in!” Anvity exclaimed, gently pushing Creaity inside the house.

______________

”The tea tastes delicious, thank you Moxie.” Creaity complimented timidly, his right hand shaking somewhat from the burn mark on his palm. ”You've been quieter as of late, is there something going on with Deitton?” Moxie asked, having a sickening feeling that something was happening between his friend and his boyfriend. Creaity felt himself prickle at the thought of losing his beloved. He quickly placed the cup down and fidgeted with his hands, trying to think of something to say. He quickly realized his mistake, though, as Moxie gasped in horror at the sight of the burn on his hand. ”What happened?” he questioned, terrified, as he held his friend's wrist loosely. Creaity bit his lip remembering what Deitton had done to him.

I play with fire, I burn you right out

I burned your bible

Creaity felt himself try to cry, even though he knew that it would set his friends off and they would probably have Deitton arrested for things he didn't mean. He didn't want to be ripped from his significant others warm embrace and sweet words, forever keeping him in place. He plastered on a smile instead, a wavery thing really. It was quite the sight to behold, a freckled man wearing a wavering smile as though he might burst into tears at any given moment.

You try to cry, but only smiled

”Creaity, honey, you could tell us anything.” Anvity gently reminded him, engulfing their abused friend in a hug. Creaity let it spill right then and there, everything Deitton ever did to him, everything he ever said to him was laid out on the table. Including his fears and worries about what was happening to him. When he got to explaining why he was limping, he stopped mid-sentence and broke down. Heart-wrenching sobs ripped through the air and the sadness that dripped off of him was soul shattering. ”I-I don't w-wa-wanna lo-loose him!” Creaity stuttered out through the tears and the sobs that wracked through his smaller form.

And if you leave me

Rest assured it would kill me

Rest assured if you

Leave

Moxie felt his anger boil to the surface, he wanted to give Deitton hell for treating his amazing, wonderful friend this way. By the looks of it, Anvity had similar feelings as he gently rubbed circles on the smaller persons back, a look of fiery hatred crossing his facial features. Moxie picked up his phone and dialed the police, he had to report what was going on with Creaity and get Deitton arrested.

______________

”I’LL MURDER YOU WHEN I GET OUT YOU FUCKING SLUT! YOU CANT RUN BITCH!” Deitton screamed at his useless boyfriend, if he was going to get arrested he was going to make Creaity feel like shit for it. The crestfallen look that appeared on Creaity’s face was priceless and he felt satisfaction rip through him like a blade. He opened his mouth to yell at his shit boyfriend but a hand clamped down on his mouth, silencing him. ”Sir, anything you say can and will be held against you!” the officer handcuffing him told the abuser coldly. Said officer removed his hand and sat him down in the back of the police car, slamming the door and moving to the driver's seat. Deitton scowled and glared out of the barred window, when he got out he was gonna beat the ever living shit out of Creaity.

Like on Oleander

White, white leaves

Of an Oleander

White like me

Vercei sensed his friend's sadness, he wanted to tell Creaity encouraging words but he was mute. Instead, he wrapped his sleeved arms around the taller’s waist. Creaity leaned into the touch, he was too physically and emotionally exhausted to do much of anything. He felt strong arms embrace him from behind and he also leaned into the warmth of Anvity, balancing out the warmth of his two friends perfectly. Moxie’s arms fit just below Vercei's, he wanted to reassure Creaity that he still had them and that he wasn't alone. As for Creaity himself, he felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of him and he felt peaceful for once. He wasn't ready to let go yet but with a little more time, he would learn to let go of Deitton so that he could be truly happy.

Of the Oleander

Like white leaves

Oh, the Oleander

White like me

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flipsideds · 6 years

Text

“ — oh, uhm... i hope you don’t mind, but i was actually saving that last sugar cube for a pal of mine. RANDY. yeah, i... i’m sure there’s more oranges at the store? if you’d maybe want to check there? ”

alternatively: i have z e r o p e r c e n t self-control & am ready to introduce you to my little honeysuckle dewdrop, ollie smith !!

* ━ ━ have you met brattleboro's very own BOTANY STUDENT / HORTICULTURAL APPRENTICE yet ? if you haven’t, let me introduce you to OLEANDER “OLLIE” MICHAEL SMITH — a TWENTY - TWO year old CISMALE, he was last seen ARTFULLY PLATING SUGAR CUBES & ORANGE SLICES FOR HIS DAILY BREAKFAST WITH THE BEES whilst listening to HERE COMES THE SUN. oft described as soft-spoken, mild, breezy & acquiescent, he won't ever tell you that A FINE SELECTION OF BRATTLEBORO’S BEES HAVE TAKEN UP RESIDENCE IN HIS HAIR, A RESULT OF HIS LONG-STANDING PROTECTION PACT WITH THEM: IF THE BEES ARE THREATENED IN ANY WAY, HE WILL NOT HESITATE, BITCH ! ; at least that's what the rumour is around town. // TARJEI SANDVIK MOE.

here’s the buzz concerning oleander smith :

randy is a bee. he is ollie’s very best bee friend. he takes the cake when it comes to loyalty and priority, and if you cannot handle that, then ollie concludes your presence can probably be best made useful elsewhere.

if his bees don’t trust you, game over. sorry, ollie doesn’t make the rules !!

he’s studying botany, looking to get his masters! so in the meantime, he’s also working a paid apprenticeship with brattleboro parks & rec, maintaining the local butterfly gardens in the town center. catch him watering the plants daily, taking very frequent breaks to smell the flowers and whisper to them about how pretty & special they are!!!

he has mfing bees?? living in his hair?? like a boss tbh. and when they’re really happy and/or he’s asleep, they form a lil halo around his head and it’s 2 cute to handle. basically, the bees and ollie have a mutual protection pact, the details of which i’ll briefly outline below.

adores children, so whenever little kids come to the gardens for field trips or whatever he’s always stooped in the dirt with them, introducing them to butterflies that casually perch on his fingertips. i swear, this kid is the friggin’ flower/insect whisperer.

how the arrangement came to bee :

so a young 5 y/o ollie got stung by a bee one day. he cried a lot, not about the sting but rather about the bee dying?? so baby ollie held a full funeral service for it near its hive and then began bringing bereavement meals (sugar cubes, etc.) to the bees in the wake of their loved one’s absence, as is obviously customary when one mourns the loss of a fallen bee. he started visiting the bees more frequently, having his breakfasts outdoors in his family’s back yard just to chat with them.

in elementary school, ollie got bullied pretty badly because kids caught him talking to ‘no one’ (aka his bees). he’d always been picked on for his size and for having two moms, but this one awful kid decided to continue this teasing further than small comments and jeers. so one day, cute lil fetus ollie tries to play kickball with the other kids and is instead kicked in the shins. his balance was awful so he toppled to the ground, scraping his knee and his left cheek in the process. the other kids found this hilarious -- ollie’s walk home featured slumped shoulders and an abundance of sniffles.

his moms didn’t really do much about it tbh?? beatrice and debbie don’t believe in aggravating others; they’re pacifists at heart. so they encourage ollie to “talk it out” with his aggressor.

a similar physical teasing happens the next day. instead of telling his moms about it, ollie returns home and goes straight to the hive to tell his bees. they are BUZZING with anger.

ollie goes to school the next morning. same shit, different day. this trend continues for about two weeks before the bees finally decide enough is enough. one of ollie’s bestest bee buddies, randy, tags along to school without making himself known. he hides away in the hood of ollie’s sweater. the bully kid tries his usual teasing at recess and manages to shove ollie onto the blacktop when ollie tries to reason with him. he’s about to do more damage with his freakin’ buzz lightyear light-up sneakers when wham!! he’s stung! by a bee! right on his nose!

the kicker is this kid was like... hella allergic to bee stings? so he nearly died and never messed with ollie again. and from then on, the bees have vowed to protect ollie because they don’t buy into humankind’s capacity for kindness.

they casually alternate shifts living in his hair, y’know? casual. and they ADORE his current line of work, so it’s a winning situation for everyone involved.

personality ? more like personali-bee, am i right ladies ?? :

honestly people around town probably think he's got some marbles loose because more often than not he will converse with the bees out loud?? but they've got this ~ emotional bond ~ too, which makes communicating non-verbally just as effective?

he's such a nerd, adores everything about botany and flowers and biology.

lil sunshine gumdrop. but his bees WILL attack people who wrong him, or threaten him, or give off the vibe of being capable of hurting him.

ollie is such a pacifist but he doesn't force his bees to abide by the same moral code.

you can routinely find him outside the local grocery store asking for donations to save the bees !!

also catch him lecturing the locals on how bees have pure hearts, therefore humans should not be afraid, nor should they deem killing them the answer !!!

lavender macaroons are his favorite.

any sweets, also.

he takes his tea with milk and honey, and a dollop of sunshine.

he has a habit of humming to himself when he’s gardening.

will routinely pose questions with an unironic “huh?” at the end.

christopher robin in another life, probably.

he’s always wearing some form of gentle color. baby blues, lavenders, etc.

he has an adorable little gardening hat. and probably always has dainty little gardening gloves tucked into the back pocket of his jeans because you just... never know when you might encounter a plant in need, ok??

very not used to being the center of anyone’s attention, so he’s very softspoken. like, even the silent evening air is like, could you pls speak up, lil gumdrop?

blushes like, all the time?

his best trait is def his smile. it just blossoms across his features and lowkey some people think the town gardens are flourishing so much just because of his sheer capacity for peace, luv, & joy.

* BLACK EYED P E A S BEES VC * hive got a feeling ( whoo hoo ) that tonight’s gonna bee a good night :

pals! he’s such a Soft Boi

people who wholeheartedly despise bees, even if it’s just in an effort to make ollie squirm.

fellow nature enthusiasts!

his mail carrier? because i have this headcanon where they’ll have the most basic conversations in the morning, but they’re always so uplifting and cute?

someone who anticipates his tendency to forego a grocery basket and then spill everything as he tries to juggle it all toward the register.

bad influence!! he’s so innocent? someone attempt to lure him to the dark side?

“ excuse me miss, pls stop stepping on the flowers... if you can? if it’s not too difficult? it’s just -- they’re not exactly privy to moving out of your path, and they prefer to be alive and not be crushed. so if at all possible..... it would mean a lot to them.”

someone who calls him to take care of spiders/caterpillars/other insects that are in their home. they’re all freaked and ready to kill, but ollie just rolls in and gingerly picks up the lil guys, coos a bit. maybe asks them how their day was, what got them into this house to begin with. turns to his friend, informs them that their spider pal here came inside because they really wanted to get a better look at their interior design -- they embroidered pillows in the living room are so tasteful.

this is a M E S S but i owed it to myself to get it up! so pls hit me up on here or discord 2 plot! xoxo gossip linc

#suburbs.intro #❀ don't be a buzzkill ! interactions.#❀ in full bloom ! reflection.#❀ milk & honey ! isms.#ignore the tag dump i'm just accessing all dem life hacks

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sunshinemiranda · 7 years

Text

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 5)

Summary: The Pirates want a fight, but the Lost Boys have self-destruct. Tink and a newfound Tiger Lily implore you to bring him back, leading you into Mermaid territory.

Warnings: Swear words, drinking and smoking.

Words: 7,644 (kill! me! please!)

A/N: i have no idea where this came from. i’m not joking when i say this but there’s a reason why it’s so disembodied. this might be either the worst or best chapter i’ve written for this series yet. oh god. anyway, enjoy.

askbox | masterlist

You didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore. It hurt too much. The fabric was the same one that graced Anthony’s slim, proud shoulders; the texture was too familiar after reverently brushing your hands over it the night Oak had given it to you. The warmth and pride it imbued in your skin was seemingly gone. The people around you saw it as an article of clothing tossed to the side but it was much, much more than that. Saying you didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore was meant to express that you were not a Lost Boy anymore.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagine to pull the jacket off and throw it at Anthony’s feet. He hadn’t let his cold expression fall for one second and it simultaneously made it easier and broke your heart. He was so perfectly good at what he did. It was a tragedy that you, despite all the pain, loved more than words could express.

So here you were, back in the school cafeteria, eating food that had lost all taste and thinking about the last few moments you had spent as a Lost Boy. In those dissipating minutes, so much that happened that you could only contemplate the instance in a sort of slow motion train of thought, not unlike molasses cloaking your brain so as to take in information more deeply.

It didn’t work, which didn’t surprise you. It hadn’t worked the night after the confrontation with the Pirates. It hadn’t worked once in the two days after you had left the Lost Boys. It hadn’t worked last night when all you could do to sleep was summon the feeling of flying. Even that had been tainted when Anthony’s smile flashed against your closed eyelids.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagined to rip yourself away from that perfectly imperfect group. It really did.

“(Y/N)?”

Nat’s soft smile and bright eyes tugged you above the surface of your thoughts and you startled, sitting up straight on the uncomfortable blue plastic bench.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.” The words, even as they escaped your mouth, sounded so insincere that you physically cringed.

Nat let a breath out, treading lightly. She was the only other person who knew just how unstable this upheaval had left you.

“About them?”

Your hands tightened into fists. “As always.”

She pauses, lips pressed together as her thoughts solidify slowly. “You really loved that group, huh.”

“Yes.” The affirmation falls from your lips too quickly and before you know it, humiliation slaps a blush onto your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Nat whispers, reaching across the table to press her hand over yours. “Can I…can I ask why this-“

“Please don’t.”

And she doesn’t because she can tell that your voice is distorted by the sort of emotion that comes when you’re holding back tears. And she doesn’t because she knows that hurt takes time but it scars with a sort of immortality too. And she doesn’t because she is your friend. That, all in itself, is enough for you to escape out the back door of the school before lunch period ends, wanting desperately but infinitely unable, to return to Neverland.

When you get home, the house is dark and you don’t bother to turn on the lights. Your bed has become the only refuge possible and even that is starting to be invaded by memories. As sleep takes hold of you with fragile fingers, there is a sinking feeling in your stomach that tells you your rest will be filled with restless dreams.

“I think they want Neverland.”

Slightly had been correct. The purr of motorcycle engines cut through the comfortable silence that enveloped the forest and by the time the words fell from Lin’s lips, Anthony had moved forward and there you were, as always, right behind him.

There was no possibility of forgetting the deep ache in your heart, however, and as you stepped forward, you gathered what little dignity you had left to stare at his leather-clad back in front of you. It was almost too much.

The Lost Boys were already grouped up at the mouth of the path and they turned to their leader with a rare vulnerability, an unsettling fear starting to rear its ugly head. It was the way they looked at Anthony that made your stomach twist with a bittersweet feeling. They were so devoted and until moments ago, you had been just as unwaveringly loyal.

“Tootles, is this the first you hear of this?” Anthony had already reverted to a granite exterior. Pan made his entrance.

“Yes,” Oak replied immediately. “I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground and neither the Mermaids or Tiger Lily knew about this.”

“I think it’s an ambush,” Nibs spoke up, an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. “I scouted from the highest point possible and they’ve come in numbers.”

“I swear to God, if that asshole tries to wreck anything here, I’m keeping his teeth as a prize.” Tink had her jaw clenched, hands balled into tight fists.

“You know procedure. We start with diplomacy first, but be on your guard. Jordan, can you take (Y/N) to the projection room? Come back when she’s safe.” Pan threw a hand in the general direction of the shack.

Your blood boiled. “Are you fucking kidding me? No way. I’m staying with you guys.”

“It’s too dangerous, (Y/N). Absolutely not.” Pan’s gaze was cold but the underlying care in his message did not escape you.

“Listen to me, Anthony, or Pan, or whoever you’re choosing to be in this moment,” your voice had an edge, a symptom of leftover hurt. “I may not be a part of this immediate group anymore but that does not mean I want to watch a group of my friends dive headfirst into what’s, most likely, a trap. Now you can switch personalities all you want, you can pretend that you’re not afraid of loving and being loved, but what you cannot do is make me cower in fear while this group goes to fight for you, Pan. They’re fighting for you. So when I say I’m coming with you guys, it is not a suggestion. It’s just fact.”

Silence fell over everyone in the vicinity. You caught more than one slack-jawed expression out of the corner of your eye. Anthony was staring back, surprised for once and speechless. Pippa took the chance.

“Well I guess (Y/N)’s coming with us, then. Come on. We should get going.” She reached out and placed a cautious hand on your arm. It was meant to be a gauge; she was checking to see if you were okay.

The group moved without Anthony’s final say, which seemed to send a rebellious thrill down everyone’s spine. Finally, Pan nodded slightly, just a slight movement before stepping forward and taking his position at the head of the group.

You could see the gleam of Hook’s silver necklace in the moonlight from meters away and as the distance closed, you were reminded again of the eeriness of Smee’s cold gaze. She was not an exceptionally tall woman, quite the opposite, in fact, but she had a look in her eye that prompted your heart to find its way into your stomach. Hook himself practically made your skin crawl.

“My friends!” James Oleander, his blonde hair reflecting light, opened his arms as the Lost Boys approached. “It’s good to see you, you know, a guy gets to missing a ragtag bunch of quirks like you.”

“Hook,” Pan barely nodded his head in recognition. “What is this?”

“Whoa, you sure went defensive fast.” Hook tsk-ed, stepping forward as he lazily paced in front of the tense group. “Is it not okay for me to visit?”

“I think we made it quite clear that you aren’t welcome,” you snapped, unable to stop yourself. Pan sent you a glare, his expression telling you to back down immediately.

“Ah, yes! I do remember that, how could I forget. In fact, you were the lovely lady who knew exactly what to do with her hands.” He stepped towards you, a predatory grin on his face. Just as he reached you, Pan angled his body just so and blocked Hook’s approach with ease.

“Why don’t we stop with the banter and get to more important issues?” Anthony’s voice was the coldest it had ever been in all your experiences with him. The words themselves were polite but the chilling way he stated them set a new tone in the air.

James pulled back, eyes narrowing. “Hm. Alright, then. Let me present my desire.” He pulled away from the group and spread his arms wide, turning in a slow circle as he took in Neverland. “I want to expand Pirate territory. Now I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. It comes to my attention that your broke friend here, needs money for college.”

Oak let out a slow breath at that, trying his best to lose tension. The group tensed, ready to pounce and retaliate but he spoke before it could happen. “That’s correct.”

“Mhm, I thought so.” Hook nodded, a synthetic empathy honeying his words. “It must be so hard to be poor. I can’t even imagine. In any case, I am offering you money. Lots of it. So much money, indeed, that it would be enough to pay for this one’s tuition for years, enough to buy you all cars, enough to…” He paused, letting his eyes settle on you. “To buy anything your little hearts desire.”

Pan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Right. What’s the catch?”

Hook gasped, pulling a hand to his chest. “Is that what you think of me? Just a business man?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Slightly rolled his eyes.

“What’s the catch, Hook?” Pan repeated, voice stern and level.

James turned to face the Lost Boys, his grin only growing in size. “In exchange for all that, you give me Neverland.”

Any tension that had been rising promptly exploded. Curly lunged, his fist narrowly missing a Pirate’s face as Oak struggled to pull him back. Tink’s voice rose above the crowd, the Twins spread out and Nibs had already started to move forward, fists raised. Everyone was ready for a fight, until Pan held up one calm hand. All noise or conflict ceased.

“And if we turn down the offer?”

Hook looked up from where he was focusing on his nails, his expression of disinterest turning to a sadistic sort of glee. “Then we take it by other means.”

You immediately cut your eyes to Pan as he paused, the air filled with anticipation. He was stuck. You could see it in his posture, the way he was trying so desperately to fix what he could. It broke your heart and, with a newfound bravery, you stepped forward.

“That’s not quite fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetie.” Hook sighed.

“At least let us fight for it.” Your plan, still forming, became solid as you spoke the words.

James paused, eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “I’m listening.”

“There’ll be a rumble. Give us a week to regroup; we’ll meet you in the clearing just off the highway. If we win, you pay for Oak’s education, fully and without complaint, we keep Neverland and you never return. If you win, we let you have this place and never bother you again.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Tink’s voice took your attention momentarily and you turned to her, attempting a smile.

“It’s okay, Pip. I’ve got it.” You returned your gaze to Hook, raising an eyebrow. “So? What do you think?”

He turned to Smee at his side and a silent conversation passed between the two before he focused on you again. “You’ve got a deal.”

The tension in the air seemed to snap and everyone in the vicinity deflated as the prospect of peace, though likely short-lived, became present. The Lost Boys watched in perfect silence as the Pirates took off on their motorcycles, leaving behind an acrid smell of exhaust and fear.

You turned to face the group, hoping against hope that you could bring these people together for just one second more of the golden light that past experiences exuded. It seemed possible until Pan spoke.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was shaking with rage.

You could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’ve just stepped forward and made a deal, not even thinking about the consequences, you didn’t even flinch. Maybe you should learn that you can’t go ahead with whatever plan takes your fancy at the goddamn moment.”

“But Pan, what if-“ Nibs attempted.

“Daveed, don’t.” Pan sent him a look that silenced the statement within seconds.

You threw your hands up, laughing coldly. “Right. Of course. Maybe you should learn to be grateful for once in your life. We have a week to get ourselves together and prepare for something we might have the chance to win, all thanks to me. I’ve given us-“

“Us?” He questioned. There was no light left in his eyes and as he stepped toward you, it was clear that not a trace of Anthony was present. “I think you’re mistaken, (Y/N). You’re not a part of the Lost Boys anymore, are you?”

“Anthony,” Oak called out, voice angered for once. “That is completely uncalled for.”

“No, this one was her choice. Isn’t that true, (Y/N)? Explain to these people why you’ve decided to so graciously drag us into this situation and skip out like it doesn’t mean anything.” Pan’s eyes had gone dark.

You stepped back, feeling tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Quickly, you ripped at the leather jacket hugging your figure, winding your arm back and throwing it at Anthony’s feet. He flinched but stayed still, staring defiantly at where the crumpled fabric lay on the ground.

“I hate you,” you whispered, frantically rubbing at tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “I hate you Pan, I hate you.”

You turned and ran and whether he watched you leave didn’t matter. Not even Tink’s desperate voice was enough to keep you from running and you so you did; running and running and running until you had practically no breath left and home was ahead.

The Lost Boys didn’t come to school anymore. Or at least, they hadn’t in the three-day period since the confrontation with the Pirates. You missed Tink desperately, Nibs too, and Slightly, and on that note, every single one of that band. Whether you liked it or not, they had been your family away from home. All you hoped was that they were preparing for a fight because Hook was undoubtedly bent on having what he wanted.

“You need to talk to Tink.” Nat’s ever-logical voice pulled you, once again, out of your shallow mulling.

“What? Why, what does that have to do with anything?” You, as usual, immediately deflected and focused on your, again, uneaten cafeteria lunch.

“It has to do with everything. (Y/N), this is ridiculous. You never sleep, there are bags under your eyes. You hardly eat, there’s nothing that you enjoy anymore. Most of all, you’re not…you’re not here anymore. It’s like you’re present in a shell but the rest of you is just…somewhere else.” Nat’s voice had a stern care to it and it was clear that you were hoping you would listen.

“I…” your deflection died in your throat. There was no point in denying any further. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You need to talk to Tink.” She said it with finality. “She’ll know what to do, I know it. You need that group of people. I know you don’t want to believe it but it’s true.”

“Nat, it’s over.” You looked up and just for a second, let her see just how broken you really felt. “All of it. There’s nothing left to fix, I can’t. I just can’t.”

After that, your friend stopped trying and maybe there was a blessing hidden in a curse there, but it didn’t feel like it. Instead, it just felt like pure, cold, untouched isolation.

Time was running short for the Lost Boys. You knew, just as well as they did, that Hook was ten times more vicious and willing to stoop as low as possible to get what he desired. In this case, it was Neverland. The boys were simply collateral damage. You wanted, desperately and more than anything, to reach out and contact them somehow but your pride had gotten in the way. In fact, no one other than Nat had tried to speak to you since the incident.

That was, until Tiger Lily entered the picture. When someone like her walked into the room, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know it. She had a striking sort of beauty about her, every one of her features seemed to be singing out in perfectly bold letters; jet black hair, warm copper-coloured skin and deep brown irises. It was the kind of beauty that graced Greek goddesses and female warriors from gilded storybooks. Tiger Lily didn’t go to your school; she led a band of equally lovely girls from her district, an allied counterpart of the Lost Boys. It was for this exact reason that the entire school fell into tense silence the moment she stepped into the room. Her dark brown eyes scanned the premises, a calm, calculated gaze. She promptly latched onto you and stepped, slowly and surely, in a straight line towards your table, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder as she slid into the seat next to you.

With that one action, the entire school seemed to burst at the seams. Waves of chatter rolled through every table, a mix of whispers and assumptions with you, cringing to make yourself the smallest shape possible. Ever since your fallout with the Lost Boys, the social hierarchy at school looked at you differently. After this, there was no way you could ever hope to lay low again. The murmurs continued and after Tiger Lily became too tired of waiting, she turned to the masses and help up one perfectly elegant hand. Immediately, the voices died down to a pleasant vibration and without a second of hesitation, she turned her focus to you.

“You’re (Y/N), right?” She questioned and the gravity to her voice surprised you. There was a pleasing huskiness to it that contradicted the elegant way she carried herself, a beautiful contrast.

“Y-Yes.” You barely managed to reply, shooting Nat a panicked glance. Your friend could only stare back at you with the same alarm.

“I’ve got a message,” she leaned forward, a duty in her tone. “From Tink.”

You could have melted at her words. An unparalleled relief tingled through your joints. “Tell me.”

“She wants to meet with you.” At this, she raised a single dark eyebrow and you tripped over yourself trying to agree.

“Where?”

“That club downtown, Belle Rêve.”

“Okay. How-how will I get there?”

Tiger Lily cracked a smile at that, emitting a musical, gravelly laugh. “You’ll travel with me, of course. Come on.”

“Wait,” you managed to choke out, your head spinning with development. “Why so soon?”

Tiger Lily had stood by now but she turned around to meet your eyes. Her gaze revealed a barely masked panic that you had become very well accustomed with over the last few days.

“(Y/N), I think you know, more than anyone, just how little time the Lost Boys have. If they’re going to get a winning chance, we need to go now.”

You sent her a nod that she accepted with an acknowledgment of her own. Hesitating slightly, you turned to Nat, bottom lip caught between your teeth. She sent you a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be fine. Go. You need to do this.”

Reaching out, you gave her hand a quick squeeze, you stood to follow Tiger Lily out, feeling the eyes of every person on your back and, as always, as if you were running out of time.

Belle Rêve, though exactly as you remembered it, was a completely different creature during the day. It lacked the thrill it carried in the dark of the night and the attendees were more sloth-like and half-lidded than the immortal feeling of young people ruling the night. This was the day drinking crowd.

“Tink’s in the back, I’ll show you.” Tiger Lily sent you a wave, her voice breaking you out of your stupor in moments.

Even in a place like this, Tiger Lily held the gaze of every person in the room. She didn’t seem to notice the attention that followed her around constantly. If she did, she remarkably good at hiding it. Her perfectly disinterested expression was part of the mystery she was and that only added to the magnetism that affected everyone around her. This was a princess on the tipping point of queen.

The hallway you walked was the exact same one that had led to Nat and the memory of Anthony’s hand, warm, real and wrapped around yours, punched you in the stomach with its presence. You visibly paled and stumbled on your feet but continued walking, determined to keep your priorities key. Tiger Lily noticed, sending you a half-worried look from the corner of her eye, but opting not to say anything. You were eternally grateful.

“She’s just through here,” she gestured at a red curtain, stepping aside to let you in first.

With only a single breath to prepare, you pushed the heavy fabric aside and, as always, moved forward.

Tink was perched on the edge of the couch, tension in every corner of her posture as she nursed a glass of amber liquid. A cigarette was dangling from between her trembling fingers and ash tumbled to the ground as she jerked her head upwards to get a glance at you. Before you knew it, she was moving like a blur towards you, glass left on the marble table with a slight ping. Her arms circled around your waist and you were left, wide-eyed, to contemplate how to maneuver a hug with Tink, of all people.

“You scared the shit out of us,” was all she said, the scent of her cigarette smoke wafting from behind you.

Near tears, you squeezed your eyes shut and returned her embrace with fervor, holding her body to yours, seeking warmth and friendship and just her goddamn presence.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured against her leather jacket. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t have-“

“Don’t,” she said and from her tone, you could hear the reassuring smile in her voice. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We forgive you.”

Those words alone were enough for the tears in your eyes to find release and mark trails down your cheek as you clung to her. As your breathing slowed and her grip started to loosen, you took in a slow breath as you pulled away, sending her a small, watery smile.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she returned the smile but it seemed much more forced than yours. “And I hate to ruin this, but…”

As she trailed off, you understood the gravity of the situation and nodded once, beckoning her over as you took a seat on the red couch. Tink returned to her spot, taking a sip of browned whisky as her breaths moved shakily through her lungs. Tiger Lily had returned, now accompanied by two drinks, one of which she sat down in front of you. A mute thank you was communicated in smiles.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured.

Pippa hesitated, taking the time to down the rest of her whisky. It was clear that she was in desperate need of some liquid courage.

“The Lost Boys are a mess, we don’t even know how to start with this clusterfuck of a situation. Pan has disappeared, hasn’t been seen at Neverland since you left.” Pippa paused. “We need you back.”

The air spiked with tension. Even Tiger Lily froze, looking between the two of you with a spark of curiosity. Your heart thumped against your ribcage.

“Tink, I don’t-“

“I know, I know.” She sighed, reaching up to pass a hand over her exhausted face. “It’s Pan, isn’t it.”

You let out a breath, falling back against the couch; eyes squeezed shut, as if to fend off sparkling memories gone bad.

“It always is,” Tiger Lily quipped, a bittersweet smile on her face.

A yawning chasm opened in your chest as words caught in your throat.

“What do you mean?”

Tiger Lily sighed, looking into her martini glass. “That boy has had three major counterparts in his life: you, Pippa, and myself. Anthony doesn’t…he doesn’t quite understand love. I think you’ve already found that out. And after he pushed me away and Pippa gave up, it just became known that the likelihood of someone else coming along was lessening each day. At least, that’s what we thought-“

“Until you.” Pippa glanced up, a wild sort of desperation in her eyes. You had never seen her so shaken. “Until you, (Y/N).”

You sent her a sad smile. “That’s sweet, but I think I’ve just joined the Jilted Lovers Club. You saw us, something…something broke.”

Tink squeezed her hands together in frustration. “I know. I know, and he’s the biggest asshole in the world, I realize that, but…(Y/N), I’ve never seen him like this before. I think when that something broke, it broke him too.”

Hands shaking, you set your glass down on the table, looking up to meet Tink’s gaze. “Pippa? What are you asking me to do?”

Tink was staring at her hands as the room boiled over with tension. Finally she looked up. “I need you to talk to Pan. I need you to convince him to come back.” It wasn’t the shock that stole the breath from your lungs. You had been expecting her to say something like that. It was the memories you were plunged into that crushed your heart under the pressure, like being underneath a thousand leagues of deep blue, almost black, water.

“Tink, I can’t.”

She breathed out. “Why?”

“I think…I think if it goes wrong…I don’t think my heart can take it.”

There was a pause and you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth grinding as you suppressed and internalized anything inconvenient that came up. You didn’t open your eyes again until Tink’s presence became tangible. She had closed a bit of distance between you on the couch, her eyes imploring and desperate.

“None of this is for him. This fight for Neverland is for Neverland. It is not for Pan or so the Lost Boys can keep their hold in this part of town or for bragging rights. It is not to keep our pride from being injured. We are fighting for each other. I fight for the Twins just as much as Curly does. I fight for Nibs and Tootles and Slightly and you, (Y/N), because you are one of us too. Pan is our leader, not our purpose. Come back to us. Talk to him. Please. I am begging you, (Y/N). We have to fight.”

You stared at her, barely breathing as she spoke. Every one of her words thundered in your mind, the impact nearly destroying you.

“I’ll do it. Not for him, not even for me. For all of you.”

Tink grinned, a sight you had missed. “We owe you one.”

“Where is he?”

Tink turned to Tiger Lily, raising an eyebrow. The girl in question set down her empty martini glass and stood, propping her hands up on her hips.

“There’s only one place Pan goes to drown his sorrows; The Lagoon.”

“And that is…?” You trailed off.

“It’s a bar, which I can get us into fairly easily. Only problem is that it’s in Mermaid territory.” Tiger Lily rolled her eyes at the mention of the fourth gang in the district.

“Why is that an issue?”

“Their leader Matsu and Pan are okay enough friends, but since he’s come alone and made it clear that he wants distance from the Lost Boys, I’m not sure if her hospitality will extend to us too.

Tink stood, waving you towards the doorway. “Come on. We’ve got a date with a couple mermaids and a fairy boy.”

The Mermaids had a freezing cold kind of beauty that belonged to ladies of the lake of legend. They were an eccentric group that kept to themselves, staying modest in their territory but fiercely protective. Each one of them was hypnotizingly beautiful with a crackling air of danger that seemed to spark from their skin. They were the sirens responsible for the shipwrecks of lost sailors. Stray too close and they will bite.

Matsu is the leader and it only takes one look to understand why. She is tall, sleek and visibly untouchable. Her name comes from the Chinese deity, a goddess of the sea who doubles as the powerful and miraculous Queen of Heaven. Each and every one of Matsu’s movements is slow and purposeful, every one of her limbs seemingly floating as if perpetually suspended deep under water. Her eyes are impossibly obsidian, hair just as dark and olive skin glowing with a blue-ish tint. Unlike the Pirates and the Lost Boys, she chooses to be gloriously neutral, rising above every single conflict that mark Pan’s knuckles and cause Hook’s nose to bleed. She is the queen of a nonpartisan nation but a short fuse in conflicts around her might just one day force her hand. The Mermaids, whether they liked it or not, would have to fight.

In their part of town, the Mermaids had a stronghold in a bar appropriately named The Lagoon. Pan didn’t frequent the place but he had a stable enough tie to Matsu that allowed him to come in without needing to worry about a bouncer throwing him out. It was the only place, other than Neverland, that Pan could visit to disappear from the rest of the world.

Daylight was fading from sight as Tiger Lily’s car pulled up to the place. Afternoon was quickly turning to evening and in the conflicting war of light versus dark, the neon green sign seemed to take on a haunting sort of flicker.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of town before,” you murmured, partially to yourself as you took in the surroundings.

“The Mermaids keep to themselves. They’re not hard to find on a map but there’s hell to pay if you try to get in uninvited. Come on.” Tink beckoned you forward, taking the lead through the door as you followed behind, flanked by Tiger Lily.

The hallway was darkened and oddly deserted. There was no one to check ID at the door, no tall intimidating presence blocking the doorway, just a long stretch of black tile that felt foreign under your feet. Finally, after twisting through the maze like corridor for what seemed like an eternity, blue and green lights appeared at the end of one last turn and you emerged from the tunnel like hallway into a darkened bar filled with aquamarine undertones.

In the center of the room, a tall woman stood perfectly still, her hair pulled up in a neat and purposeful braided bun, two attendants at her elbow.

“Matsu. It’s nice to see you,” Tink smiled, not even missing a beat. Her voice was civil but there was a tension underneath it.

“It’s been a while.” Matsu replied, her voice cool and enchanting. “Hello, Tiger Lily.”

Tiger Lily barely made a move of recognition, only bothering to tilt her head down slightly. “Matsu.”

“And who is this?” Matsu enquired, lifting a perfect eyebrow as she turned her sight toward you.

“My name is (Y/N),” you managed, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “And I think you know why we’re here.”

Matsu smiled at that, her glossy pink lips catching blue light. She stepped forward, the click of her heels echoing loudly, even against the beat that pumped from the speakers. She had closed some considerable distance and with her so near, your heart thudded painfully in your chest.

“I do,” she admitted, eyes assessing as she stared at you. “The only problem is whether I feel charitable enough to let you have what you want.”

“Matsu, if you think-“ Tink started but you put a hand on her arm, silently asking for civility.

“Please.” You breathed. “Please do this. I know this is your territory and we respect that. This is not an offensive approach. We just came here to talk to Anthony. Please, Matsu.”

You met her eyes directly and her assessment slowed there. Her hand dropped from her hip as she searched your expression. Something in Matsu’s demeanor switched and she breathed out, stepping back. One hand lifted to point down the left hallway.

“He’s in there.”

Pulling up a smile, you nodded, stepping quietly down a small turn off, Tink and Tiger Lily following behind. The next room was more brightly lit but it still carried that blue glow that simulated an underwater feeling. Your eyes searched the room desperately until your heart stuttered to an uncomfortable stop.

Perched on a bar stool, whisky in hand, a boy in a white t-shirt with a head of curly hair filled the room with a wild presence. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket anymore. Your breath escaped in a single second and you froze, hands trembling at your side. The world started closing in, blood roaring in your ears until you felt Tink’s tentative touch at your arm. You turned to her with glazed eyes and she sent you a smile.

“For each other, right?” She murmured.

“For each other.” You replied.

Your steps were shaky but purposeful and time seemed to slow as you attempted to close space between you and Pan. This was the perspective you always had, almost close enough to touch him but too far away to do so. He was always so infuriatingly near.

Soon enough, you had appeared beside him, settling down on a leather stool. He didn’t address you at all, seemingly numb to his surroundings. The only movement he exhibited was to bring his glass to his lips.

“I’ll have a dry Vesper, please.” You signalled the bartender, sending her a smile as thanks.

“I thought you didn’t like martinis.”

His abrupt speech startled you and your gaze whipped from the marble counters to his side profile. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, seemingly so from disuse. It was either that or he had been smoking too much.

“It’s not that I don’t like them. I just prefer Sex on the Beach.”

“The act, or the drink?”

His choice of words echoed from the first time you had met him, pearly white teeth gleaming in the dark lights of the club.

“Oh, that’s real class.” You murmured, repeating the exact same remark you had thrown back.

A half smile twisted the corner of his lips up and finally, finally, it was like you could breath again. The bartender set your martini down and you nodded your thanks, taking a drink before setting it down, a breath moving steadily in, then out.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)?” He murmured, reaching into his leather jacket to retrieve a box of Newport cigarettes and a lighter.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m the one who’s supposed to drag your dumb ass back to Neverland.”

He snorts a laugh at that, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette before speaking again. “Of course. I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think I’m coming back.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach out for the bottom of his stool, spinning his seat to the side so you can look at him straight on. Not yet satisfied with his level of concentration, you reach your hand out and snatch the cigarette from between his fingers. His eyes widen but he stays relatively still.

“Just shut up and listen, would you? I’m not here for you. I almost didn’t come when Tink asked me to.”

“Why am I not surprised that she-“

“What did I say about listening, Pan? Like I said, I’m not here as some whining, brokenhearted admirer of yours. This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, hell, it’s bigger than the Lost Boys too. You owe it to those people to fight. You’re the leader, Pan. That means something. You can’t just drop out of sight when it appeals to you.” Momentarily satisfied with the impact of your words, you pause.

The cigarette in your hand is glowing orange and something about its light is so enchanting that you bring it to your lips, moving slowly. You catch a look of shock pass over Pan’s face as you inhale, then breathe out, a cloud furling elegantly from your mouth. It sets your pounding heart at rest. You reach your arm out and pass the cigarette back to him as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t. I’m just trying to prove something.”

“And what’s that?”

“That just because something is out of character, that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to do it. Just because it’s not usually something you do, it’s okay to exhibit and express your emotion. It’s okay to feel attached to the Lost Boys. It’s okay because, fuck what other people think.”

He’s looking at you cautiously now, guard slowly falling as he mulls over your words and takes another drag off his cigarette. “Tink was fuckin’ smart to choose you to come get me.”

Your mouth pushes into a grin against your own will. You swivel on your seat, turning back to the bar counter to drink from your martini glass. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

Pan downs the rest of his whisky, looking down, his free hand drumming a quiet beat against the counter. “No.”

Your teeth grind with frustration, hands curling into fists against the marble. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“(Y/N) it’s just too-“

“No. Don’t give me that shit. God, you are un-fucking-believable. These are the people you treat like a second goddamn family. This is a group of refused souls that you pulled together. I might have gotten us in this situation. I’ll take the blame for it if that’s what you want. But if you don’t have enough in you to get us out of this hole, I don’t think you’re good enough to be that person. The one who heads the charge, the leader, the king of the Lost Boys. If this is the case, you don’t deserve the crown. We fucking need you, Anthony.” You’re standing by now, two steps farther away from him as you prepare to storm out.

He freezes there, hands still as his cigarette burns its last few breaths. “Do you need me?”

There’s a pause. “That’s not relevant.”

“Yes, Jesus Christ, it is. Say it.”

“No.”

“Please. I want to hear it, just once.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Why?”

You take in a breath, eyes closing. “Because it’s true. And I think you know that. Just come back to us. Please?”

Anthony turns slowly, facing you with soft, glimmering eyes. “I can’t. I’m scared.”

Again, you are struck with the realization that he is just as young as you. This is a boy in front of you, lost, wild and desperate as hell. But that doesn’t mean he’s an exception. A fire of hurt and anger rises up in your chest and you turn away.

“We’re all scared, Anthony. It’s just that the rest of us are deciding to face up to this fight anyway.”

With that, you leave the room with quick, long strides, seeing Tink and Tiger Lily hovering at the end of the hallway.

“So? How did it go?” Pippa asks, anticipation clear in her posture.

“You’re right. He is an asshole. Come on, we should get to Neverland. We’ve got a fight to prepare for.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the event of coming back to Neverland. The place had changed considerably. Plants were starting to wither, brown tinges appearing on previously healthy leaves. The pines were shedding layers of needles that created a thick matt on top of the roots. The sky had lost its perfect, cloudless blue. Everything was turning gray and you knew that it was due to Anthony’s absence. With Pan gone, Neverland was dying.

However, coming back to the rest of the boys filled you with such a sense of pride and nostalgia that a tear almost slipped from your eye. The moment Tink pushed open the projection room’s screen door and waved to you with a grand flourish, a loud whoop went up and the room burst into cheers.

“(Y/N)! It’s good to see you,” the Twins grinned in unison.

“There’s my girl,” Nibs threw out, one fist in the air.

“You’re back.” Curly smiled.

Slightly only sent you a wink and a smile.

“Welcome home,” Tootles smiled softly, but it was clear through the lines in his face that tension had been high recently.

“I couldn’t convince Pan to come back, but I promise you, I am here.” You sent all of them a smile. “We have a couple days left so let’s get ready.”

Preparing meant more than just learning how to fight. Making sure the authorities wouldn’t interrupt the fight was paramount to the survival of Neverland. If the police found out a bunch of teenaged delinquents were squatting on privately owned property, and organizing fights on it, there would be hell to pay. Nibs took it upon himself to teach you how to fight, making sure you felt comfortable in your own skill. The Twins scoped out a covered path as an escape route if anything truly went wrong. Slightly and Tink took to rebuilding the gate that closed at the steel sign, swearing up and down that when the Lost Boys fought and won Neverland, this gate would make it clear that this was their territory. Tiger Lily, unable to convince her own group to get involved in the conflict, had stayed to personally help as much as she could.

Time went fast. Too fast, and now you were standing in front of a group of half-scared, half-enraged teenagers about to dive into a rumble headfirst. The clearing you had arranged to meet in was close enough to Neverland to feel the brunt of the rot that seemed to be a result of Pan’s absence. The forest lush around you was turning brown.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “So today is the day. Tink told me, when she was convincing me to come back to this place, that the Lost Boys fight for each other. They don’t fight for themselves, or their pride, or even for Pan. We fight because we’re kind of…”

“Family,” Oak spoke up, his voice strong and sure.

You sent him a grin. “Yeah. We’re kind of family. And honestly, this is the best kind of family anyone could ask for. So maybe some of us have our vices, and maybe some of us are a little beat up but that’s okay. We’re okay. We are going to be okay. I promise. We’re outnumbered, and scared and we might not be able to have this place anymore, but let’s think about us instead. I mean, the Lost Boys deserve glory, but we deserve respect and love too.”

“You’re goddamn right,” Slightly grinned.

You looked around, remembering the youthful glimmer in every look they returned. It was a misshapen but happy group, perfectly imperfect. It struck you, then and there, that you were a little bit in love with all of them. Every single Lost Boy.

A collective gasp rolled through all seven people. Their eyes were trained on something behind you. A familiar spark flew through your veins. You turned slowly, almost sure of what you were about to see but unable to believe it.

There he was. Pan, in all his boyish, fairy dust glory, hair falling haphazardly out of his ponytail. His leather jacket, the only icon that belonged to the Lost Boys sloped over his shoulders. He had come back, and not alone. Eight Mermaids, beautiful, cold, untouchable women followed him, their sheer number balancing your group out easily with the number of people under Hook’s grasp.

“You guys weren’t thinking of having all this fun without me, were you?” Anthony grinned.

Nibs was shaking his head, a grin tilting his lips up as he crossed his arms. “You motherfucker.”

Pan approached, the Mermaids melding into the group, and took a spot beside you. The dynamic between you two had changed. Instead of protection, he was offering support now.

“Seems like you thought about what I said,” you grinned, propping a hand on your hip as you stared at him.

“I did,” he smiled, turning serious. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“For what?”

“For trying.”

“Anytime,” you replied.

Pan turned around, eyes flicking over each member of his motley crew. “I think I owe you all an apology. I didn’t think about you guys when I disappeared and that was my biggest mistake. You guys deserve better.”

“Yeah, but who cares?” You shrugged, sending Anthony a small smile. “We like it this way. You’re a good leader, Ant. You’re king of the Lost Boys.”

The rumble of motorcycle engines echoed in the distance, getting closer with each passing second. The Pirates were on their way.

“Well then,” Pan breathed out, facing forward as a spark of determination lit in his eyes. “A king must fight for his people.”

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

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