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mystic-writings · 2 months

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remember the nights | chapter one — new beginnings

WORD COUNT — 2,403

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — i'm legit sobbing i can't believe this series is already 2 years old

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This morning was the last one you’d spend in your childhood home. After 17 years of memories, you were saying goodbye to the place you were overjoyed to call home. It wasn’t bad — that was something you were sure of — but it was upsetting. This place is where you came home after being born, where you spent birthdays and holidays and had almost all of your firsts in. You learned to walk here, to talk, to read. It was here that you decided you wanted to be a ballerina, only to decide you wanted to be a teacher just a week later. It’s where your mom lived, where you lived. And now, for a very good reason, you were giving it up.

Your father was trading away his two-bedroom, floor to ceiling windowed, eleventh floor condo for a lovely blue suburban just a few hours away. No more big city, no more 10 hour shifts at the office. Finally, your dad was getting married.

His fiance, Maggie, was the most wonderful woman you’d ever met, and damn near perfect for him. Her sons, who look nearly identical to her, were the most well-mannered teenage boys you’d met. Thomas, her eldest, was the same age as you — give or take a few months — and one of your closest friends.

Chuck was her youngest, and was turning 13 early next year. He was shy, but once he had warmed up to you, he became the funniest kid you’d ever talked to. He shared all of his interests with you, even if you didn’t know what he was talking about half of the time.

Over the past three years, you’d had plenty of time to get used to Maggie and her sons, seeing as they’d spent every other weekend here in the city for the past year or so, so it wasn’t as though you were completely uprooting your life. You’d already seen them as family, and have for a while. Every time they came to town, you and Thomas would make the most of things, wandering the city for things to do or look at or buy until well after sundown, while Chuck normally spent his time with Maggie and your dad.

You had no reason to be sad, and you weren’t. It was just nostalgia, rooted deep within your chest, of the few vital memories you had left of your mother that had all taken place in this condo.

“I know this is hard for you, honey,” your father said as you carried your last box of items through the living room.

“I’ll be okay dad, don’t worry.” You assured him with a childlike smile. “This is a good thing for us, you know? And I’ll have Thomas and Teresa to help me out, so I won’t be completely lonely and friendless.”

Your father nodded, his lips pressed together tightly as he rested a hand on your shoulder. Whether he was comforting you or trying to comfort himself, you didn’t know. Still, he took the box from your arms and walked out the front door, leaving you to take one last look around the place that had once been your home before walking out yourself, closing the door and leaving that part of your life behind.

Though the drive took nearly three hours, it felt like half an hour. Most of your time in the passenger seat of your father’s sleek black Camaro was spent messaging your best friends about how much you already missed them, and replying to other school friends to thank them for their well-wishes and promises to meet up soon, even though you knew it would never follow through.

Traffic-jammed highways quickly turned into two-lane blacktop, surrounded by farmland and forest, which then faded into cookie-cutter homes and family-owned stores. It would be quite an adjustment compared to bodegas, high rises and packed streets, but you knew you had no choice.

You’d been in this town quite a few times before, and the route to your new home was quite familiar, seeing as some weekends it would be you and your father making the trip instead of Maggie and her family. A left turn on the main road, right after the only cafe in town, then a right turn, then another left.

Maggie’s house was tucked into the right corner of the cul-de-sac, and it still looked as charmingly beautiful as ever. With dark, gray-blue siding, a lovely white painted front porch capped with a shingled awning, and deep red brick supporting the foundation, it was like it was built straight out of a fairytale. The garage extension jutted out of the house, and its wall marked one end of the porch, while the other was supported by a bay window that looked into the kitchen. To the very left, a white-painted fence and gate led into the backyard that, while you couldn’t tell from the front, was fairly large, and decorated entirely by a beautiful garden, wicker furniture, and a light gray brick fire pit.

The second the car was in park, you were hopping out of the vehicle, ready to pull your bags from the trunk and bring them to your new room. It had been the office/storage room for Thomas and Chuck, but Maggie cleared it out as soon as they told you that they were engaged. There was a room downstairs near Chuck’s that wasn’t being used, but it was isolated and therefore would be your father and Maggie’s shared office so that he can work entirely from home.

In her last FaceTime a few days ago, Maggie showed you the room, already filled with the furniture you’d sent from New York weeks prior. One window inside faced the front of the house, and the other faced the side yard and part of the neighbors backyard.

You pulled your duffle bag from the trunk just as the moving van that had been following you from the city parked on the street. Thomas and Maggie had stepped outside to help bring boxes in, and you greeted them both with short hugs and a wide smile before asking where Chuck was.

“He’s inside,” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Been hiding in his room all day.”

There wasn’t much heavy lifting to be done, since your bed, desk, dresser, and nightstand table had already been moved in, and the boxes contained mostly clothes, personal items, and whatever technology your dad needed to be brought with him. The rest was sold or given away, considering Maggie had a house full of stuff on her own.

By mid-afternoon, boxes covered the floor and most other surfaces in your room, and you were elbow deep in a box of hangers and whatever clothing wouldn’t fit into your bags when Thomas poked his head in the door.

“Having fun?” You could hear his mischievous smile in his words as he stepped inside.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. Does untangling a mess of hangers and tank tops sound like fun to you?”

“Nope,” Thomas winced, crossing the room and dropping onto your bare mattress. “Glad you’re here, though.”

“Me too,” you said, “I think.”

Thomas lifted his head to look at you. “You think?”

“Well, I only know you and Teresa, and I’ve never had to deal with living someplace where everything closes at 7pm.”

“Everything does not close at 7pm,” he scoffed. “The diner doesn’t close until 10pm, and the convenience store closes at 8.”

“Oh, wow, a whole extra hour for the convenience store,” you mocked the boy, who scoffed once more at you. “My point is, I have a lot to get used to, and it’s not exactly like I can say I don’t like it here and everything goes back to the way it was.”

Thomas sat up. “You’ll be fine, I swear. You’ve got me and Teresa, plus you’ll be meeting our friends in a few days.”

You only nodded, working through the mess of clothes and hangers as Thomas fell silent for a few moments, typing on his phone for a bit.

“Do you wanna do something with me and Teresa?” He asked as you began putting the hangers into your closet.

You immediately perked up at the mention of Teresa. “Of course I would. I haven’t seen her in months,” you said, “Why? What does she want to do?”

“We’ll probably take you to the cafe, or go to hers for a movie night,” Thomas said. “There’s not much to do around here.”

“That’s fine,” you shrugged, “I’ll be fine with whatever, you know that.”

Thomas made a quick noise of acknowledgement and returned to typing on his phone, before getting up and walking past you toward the door. “Alright, well she’s down. I’ll come get you in like a few hours, maybe.”

“Oh-” you started, looking at Thomas as he left the room. “Okay, then,”

You continued to untangle and pack away your clothes, mind wandering to almost any thought that crossed your mind. Shortly after Thomas’ departure, though, a knock sounded at your bedroom door before opening. In the doorway stood Chuck, silently observing the room now that you had begun to move into it.

“Chuckie!” It was his least favorite nickname by far, especially when Thomas used it on him, but you couldn’t help yourself. To you, he’d always be 9 years old, hiding behind his mother’s leg in your condo’s living room.

You stopped what you were doing as he stepped into the room, meeting you by the bed to greet you with a wordless hug. He ended up helping you out with the hangers, talking adamantly with you about how his friends were spending the night next weekend to watch Star Wars with him, and how now he and your dad could do more stuff together since he wouldn’t have to wait for the weekends to see him anymore.

After the box full of hangers was organized and put away, Chuck left and took the broken down box with him. You opened the one you’d put all of your knick knacks and other items in, beginning to organize them around the room when you pulled out your favorite mug, wrapped delicately in layers of bubble wrap and newspaper.

You decided to take it down to the kitchen immediately, peeling the layers from it as you headed back downstairs. It was a gift from your grandmother, a white mug with a black handle, a silhouette of a ballerina painted onto one side. She gave it to you when you were nine, a tribute to your mother, who used to be a ballerina herself.

You found a space for it on the bottom shelf of the cupboard of mugs, smiling gently at it. Somehow, this was what cemented the fact that you were in a new home. That you’d gone through a positive change for once. For the most part, the life you used to live was long gone, and you had much more to look forward to, despite how terrified you were.

The next couple of hours included you dressing your bed in its sheets and pillows and blankets, plus rearranging and re-organizing things in your room. It was a little small, sure, but you didn’t mind, as everything fit perfectly. Now, all you were doing was waiting for Thomas to get you to bring you to Teresa’s house.

When he finally did, the sun was beginning to set and Maggie was helping your dad organize his DVDs in the entertainment center under the TV. They muttered quick goodbyes as you headed out the door, hopping into Thomas’ old truck and heading to Teresa’s house.

You arrived at the familiar white-siding home in no time, and you already had Teresa in your line of sight before you had closed the door to the truck. You both ran for one another, crashing into one another in an excited, bone-crushing hug in the walkway to her front porch.

“Jeez, why don’t you greet me like that, babe?” Thomas said, casually walking up the pathway.

Teresa pulled back a bit, glaring over your shoulder. “Because I see you every day, Thomas. I haven’t seen N/n since June.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Thomas muttered under his breath, obviously defeated as a pout formed on his face.

You and Teresa laughed before the brunette girl spoke up, grabbing your hand. “Come on, I’ve got everything set up inside. Movies, snacks, and I ordered pizza from the takeout place across town. I wanna hear everything I’ve missed out on since I saw you last.”

Thomas trailed behind you as Teresa led you inside her home, despite knowing you’d been there quite often over the years.

You spent over four hours at Teresa’s house. By the time you were pulling back into the driveway, the entire town had gone quiet, lights turned out as everyone wound down for the night or were already asleep.

The first hour of your time was spent catching Teresa up on anything interesting that had happened in New York, then she and Thomas did the same for you. They also took the time to explain the school and how things worked in a small town as best as they could, but you quickly decided you’d just learn as things went on. You managed to watch two movies, devouring whatever food Teresa had set out for the three of you relatively quickly.

Once you stepped inside, it was quite clear that everyone else in the house was already asleep. You and Thomas managed to sneak upstairs without waking anyone, bidding one another a quick ‘goodnight’ before heading to your own rooms.

Soon after, you found yourself in an oversized fundraiser shirt your dad got from a work trip to Arizona years ago, laying in bed as your eyes scanned and took in every inch of your room. Thinking over every detail, about how different it felt, how this new space held every aspect of you and your life up until this moment. And as you thought, you felt your heart grow and swell within your chest, getting lighter and lighter.

This town, these people, had yet to prove themselves to you, to show you if you belonged or not, and you were eager to see it all, to experience everything it had to offer. All you had to do was give it a chance.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine (open!)

#remember the nights #newt x reader #newt tmr x reader #newt x you #newt x y/n #newt series #newt tmr series #newt fluff #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner x reader #au fic #high school au

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mystic-writings · 1 month

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remember the nights | chapter four — the willow tree

WORD COUNT — 2,390

WARNINGS — talk of parental death and parental abandonment, cheating, and divorce

NOTES — god i love this chapter with everything i have i'm not kidding

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Since your first ‘official’ group hang out last Friday, you’d nearly been jumping at any opportunity to hang out with the group. Sure, when you read into it it sounded borderline creepy, but you couldn’t help it. You’d never had that much fun with your friends before, even in the city, where pretty much anything and everything was at your fingertips.

You could only compare it to the high you felt the first time you’d ever watched a musical in a theater. You were a freshman at the time, and your dad surprised you with tickets by calling you out of school in the middle of the day. You’d never forget the magical, light feeling that filled your chest throughout the show, watching everything happen all at once and so quickly, admiring the performer’s work in real time. It had been such a rush that, for the following four days, everything felt dull, and all you wanted was to relive that night over and over again for the rest of your life.

Today was Thursday, and although everyone would be hanging out again tomorrow at Mickey’s, some of the group had decided to hang out at the park again, anyway. All of you did have some form of curfew for weeknights, so it would be bordering on sunset when you would meet at the park, before one by one, you’d all have to head home at one time or another.

When you’d left school, it was agreed — everyone would meet at 6pm by the gate. But as you got home, and the evening crept onward to the time you were supposed to leave, the texts began trickling in, and before you knew it, almost everyone had canceled. Whether it was family obligations, chores, or — in Harriet and Sonya’s case — couple time to themselves, everyone who was involved in the initial plan had canceled, aside from Newt.

Not long after the final cancellation text came through — Minho, saying that his parents had family coming into town and needed to help get the house ready — your phone began to ring from its place on your bed, where you sat writing the last few sentences of your history homework.

You pushed the textbook and workbook from your lap, reaching for the phone only to see that Newt’s contact was the one lighting up your screen. You prepared for another cancellation excuse before pressing the bright green ‘accept’ button and holding the phone to your ear. “What’s up?”

Newt’s voice filtered through the speaker almost immediately. “We’re still hanging out tonight, right?”

“Yeah, we are,” you said, “but it’s just gonna be us, if that’s alright. Literally everyone else canceled.”

“Really?” Newt asked, and you muttered a confirmation in response.

You sighed, leaning back on your bed frame. “I know we were supposed to go to the park, but Minho has the key, so… is there anywhere else you’d wanna hang out?”

“Actually, yeah,” Newt replied. “I’ll be there to pick you up soon, yeah? Half an hour.”

“Got it.” You nodded. “Half an hour.”

With Newt’s final goodbye, you picked your book back up and finished off what little you had left of your history homework. As you did though, you thought about spending time with Newt, just Newt, and how you haven’t had the chance to do so since he gave you the tour of the school. The thought seemed to bring an untameable smile to your face.

By the time Newt’s car appeared in the driveway, and Newt at the front door, you had packed all your schoolwork away, pushed your hair back (after attempting four different styles), and grabbed a hoodie to wear. Whatever makeup you’d put on at the beginning of the day was mostly worn off now, and you didn’t see a point in reapplying anything, because as long as your mascara and eyeliner weren’t majorly smudged, you were okay with how it looked.

Newt came in after you greeted him at the door, giving you time to gather up what you needed to and to slip your shoes on, and he talked with Maggie and your dad as they watched a movie in the living room. When you finally stepped out of the house, the sky was painted with an array of oranges, fading into various pinkish red tones, and finally, a beautiful purple that got deeper and more rich the higher in the sky it went.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” You asked as Newt reversed out of the driveway.

“I was thinking we’d grab some food from Mickey’s and hang out over on the field by the school?” Newt suggested, turning onto the main road. “Nothing extreme, y’know? We have all night tomorrow to do that.”

You nodded and told him that it was a great idea, looking out the window as he drove. It was getting visibly darker with every passing moment, and the lights on Newt’s dash and radio were glowing a bluish green when he parked in front of the diner. When you stepped out, you were met with a subtle breeze, which was quickly overtaken by the warmth of the diner.

It was quiet inside, with only a few straggling patrons scattered around. Mickey greeted you both at the counter with his usual bright smile as you sat on the stools, ready to order. “Aren’t you two supposed to be here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but you know me, Mickey.” Newt smiled cheekily. “I just can’t get enough of your amazing food.”

Mickey laughed before taking your orders — you, another loaded burger meal and double chocolate milkshake, and Newt, a crispy chicken burger and vanilla milkshake. Newt ended up paying for the food, but only after you argued about it and settled on you paying for his food tomorrow.

You admired the retro style of the diner as you sat and waited for your food to arrive, noticing all of the pictures on the walls, the vintage clocks, and achievements the establishment had seemed to receive over the many years it’d been running. Through the order window, though, you noticed a boy your age, frying up your burger.

Newt seemed to read your mind and follow your line of sight, because not long after you noticed the boy, he told you, “That’s Frypan.”

“Hmm?”

“The cook, back there.” Newt explained. “His real name’s Siggy, but everyone calls him Fry or Frypan. Even his parents, and Mickey. Frypan’s Mickey’s grandson.”

You only nodded, waving at Frypan along with Newt when he caught sight of you and smiled politely. Once Frypan was done with your orders, he bagged them up and brought it over to you at the counter.

“What’s up, Newt?”

“Hey, Fry,” Newt said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Things good?”

“Yep,” Frypan nodded, handing over the bag of takeout, before looking over to you.

You smiled at him again and said, “I’m Y/n. Thomas’... step-sister? I think.”

Frypan laughed and nodded, his smile wider than before. “Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“I think step-sister’s the right word,” Newt said. “Tommy told us about her, remember?”

“I remember,” Frypan nodded as he leant against the counter. “Said a lot about you when you guys would hang out and stuff. Didn’t you get him lost in Times Square once or something?”

You scoffed out a laugh. “I think he got that story mixed up. He was the one who got us lost. Dumbass thought he could get us around New York without a map because he’d been there a few times before. And he didn’t even go to Times Square any of those times, by the way.”

Both boys laughed at your retelling of the story as you smiled, watching Mickey place two to-go cups next to the bag of food. “There y’all go. I’ll see y’all tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, guys. See you later, Fry.” Newt nodded, waving goodbye before standing and grabbing the bag of food.

You waved the pair goodbye happily as you grabbed the drinks and slid out of the stool, following Newt out the door, blinds clanking on the door behind you, and back into the car. The sky had darkened exponentially since you’d been inside, and the brief breeze you felt when you arrived had taken a more permanent residence in the air, cooling your skin.

As Newt headed over to the school, staying on the main road, you snacked on fries from the bag that rested on your lap. A song filtered through the speakers, muffled by the static of a distant radio tower, and dim street lamps lit the way for you. You would’ve been perfectly content simply sitting in the car and driving around until curfew, but Newt had other plans.

He parked in the school parking lot, in one of the spaces closest to the field. It was unusual to see the parking lot empty, to see the school devoid of light and students lingering around. You and Newt stepped out of the car, and you followed him as he rounded the back, opening the trunk and pulling a thin blanket from it before heading out to the field, blanket tucked under one arm, a milkshake in hand and the bag of food in the other.

Soon, one milkshake became two, along with a heavy bag filled with food, and you ended up handling a minor juggling act while Newt laid out the blanket at the base of the willow tree he pointed out to you on the first day. When he was done, he took his milkshake and the bag of food from you, allowing you to sit next to him on the blanket while he sorted out the food.

For a little while, there was nothing but the sound of the wildlife at night while you enjoyed your food together. This, however, gave your mind time to wind down several paths of thought, and it didn’t take you long to put your burger back in its wrapper and face the blond to your left.

“Why doesn’t Sonya have an accent?”

“What?” Newt asked, still chewing his food.

“You have an accent.” You stated. “And Sonya’s only a year younger than you, so she should have an accent, too, right? But she doesn’t, so, why not?”

Newt swallowed his food, took a sip of his milkshake, and cleared his throat before speaking. “We moved here from London when we were pretty young. I was eight, and Sonya was almost seven. Small town people can be quite… harsh, but I didn’t quite mind what the kids in school were saying about how we talked. Sonya did, though. I guess kids in her grade were harsher toward her. Anyway, she started to train her voice to sound American, and now she doesn’t have an accent.”

All you could think of to respond was nod. It seemed like a simple enough answer, despite how heartbreaking it really was, and so you left it at that and went back to eating your burger. No more conversation occurred between the two of you until you were cramming the empty wrappers and fry containers into the takeout bag.

“Why’s your dad marrying Maggie?”

Confused, your face scrunched as you looked at Newt.

“You got to ask a question, so now I’m asking one.” Newt shrugged. “So, why’s your dad marrying Maggie?” After a moment, it seemed like Newt realized what kind of question he’d asked. “If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to. I’m just curious.”

“No, no it’s fine.” You assured him, taking a deep breath. “It’s not his first marriage, or anything like that. And my mom wasn’t some horrible, evil woman he was just dying to get away from, either. He loved her. A lot. They met when they were teenagers and everything. She was a ballerina. A really beautiful one, too.” You explained. “When I was about seven, though, she got diagnosed with breast cancer. I can barely remember it anymore, but I know she was a great mom, and a great wife. She died when I was ten. Maggie’s the first woman I’ve met that’s been able to make my dad laugh like my mom used to.”

Newt stayed silent for a few moments, the heavy atmosphere you brought to the conversation settling in your chests. He picked at a loose thread in the blanket before speaking. “I wish my mum could find someone like that.”

“Why?” You asked, your voice soft. “What happened to your dad?”

“He’s an asshole,” Newt snapped, tilting his head all the way back to look at the pieces of sky that poked through the leaves, leaning on his elbows for support. “He moved us halfway across the world, away from my mum’s family, away from her whole bloody life, for a job offer, only to quit and chase some bleach blonde woman who’s half his age to Florida and mail my mum divorce papers. He didn’t even have the decency to sign them in person.”

The anger and resentment Newt held for his father was clear in his tone, rolling off his words in harsh waves.

Hesitantly, you placed a hand over Newt’s twisting your body to fully face him. “You’re right, Newt. Your dad is an asshole. And he missed out on watching you grow up, on seeing you turn into one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever met. But that just means that you didn’t need him to be the person you are today.”

Though Newt’s eyes remained on the sky, you could see tears gathering along his waterline, the gleam of the stars reflecting within them. For a moment, you both stayed that way, until Newt shifted and pulled your body into his, arms wrapping around your neck as he gripped you in a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him a little closer. The heavy atmosphere felt a little lighter, now, and you did, too, knowing that something between you and Newt had shifted, that you knew each other better now.

After the mood lifted, you both finished your drinks and laid back on the thin, cold blanket, hands on your stomachs as you talked and looked at the sky through the drooping curtains of the willow tree’s leaves.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine (open!)

#remember the nights #newt x reader #newt tmr x reader #newt x you #newt x y/n #newt series #newt tmr series #newt angst #newt fluff #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner x reader #au fic #high school au

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