#the way shes a little mean and condescending even?? towards thomas but still good and kind is gold

[lobinilo]

What are your favourite Jonah’s projects? ☺️🎬

~ plays TikTok Sound~

OH MY GOODNESS I LOVE THIS QUESTIOOOONNN

So since May 2023 (what happened there? I have no idea 😉) I've watched everything Jonah-related I could get my hands on (except for Little Women, but I'm definetly going to watch that later this year).

My top 3 Jonah projects OTHER than The Little Mermaid (because truth be told, I think it's pretty clear how obsessed I am with that movie and it's not really a fair comparison to some of the more indepent, even low budget projects Jonah has starred in) so far:

1. World on Fire (2019 - 2023)

created by: Peter Bowker directed by: Chanya Button, Thomas Napper, Adam Smith, Andy Wilson Jonah plays: Harry Chase

Big shocker, right? Given how much I already rambled about Harry and Kasia (my traumatised parents) and how upset I was when they cancelled it. I will always mourn this show for the huge potential it had.

World on Fire is a BBC-show following different people in Britain, Poland, Germany and France (with some American viewpoints as well) as they have to endure and navigate their life through World War II. Doesnt really sound like anything we haven't seen, right? However, World on Fire is worth checking out imo, since it differs a lot from the usual Hollywood-infused war epics, because rather than focusing on the politics or the big battles, the show looks more closely at the everyday person that actually had to live through this tragedy and how they deal with what's happening. That being said, obviously this is still a show about WW II, so there definitely IS depiction of violence, murder and torture, as well as bombings, gunfire etc., so please be careful if you find any of those things triggering. I personally found some episodes quite hard to get through.

I think it's interesting that Jonah's filmography is very heavy on projects set during or related to WW II (additionally to WoF you have The Song of Names, Ashes in the Snow and ofc coming up The Tattooist of Auschwitz). Theories on why that is are welcome!

Harry Chase (brilliantly brought to life by our favourite British simp) differs quite a bit from many of Jonah's other roles in that he`s not your heroic, clean-cut good guy (like Andrius, Lucas, Mo or Prince Eric). He's insecure and a little helpless, even cowardly at times. Harry starts out as a translator, but later joins the British Army and the SOE. He fucks up repeatedly, both in his role as lieutenant, as well as in his personal life. Even though most of the time he means well, his cowardice ends up hurting a lot of people and leads him to be in the middle of a love triangle. (Though to me it's not a triangle, but rather a straight line, Team Kasia all the way.)

Harry, though deeply troubled, is a very kind and soft soul. That doesn't really pair well with the acts of war, as well as british society in the 1940s in general, which leads to conflict with other characters and their idea of who he should be. Especially when he clashes with his mother Robina (portrayed by the absolute MAGNIFICENT Lesley Manville, shes giving Emily Gilmore in the best way possible), Jonahs acting is ON POINT. His performance is so nuanced: He's angry, he's desperate, he's sad, but also condescending, sarcastic and hostile towards her. The interesting thing about Harry is the journey he takes. To watch him try to better himself by dealing with past trauma and taking responsibility for present mistakes. The real standout for his character is episode 5 of season 1 where he finally steps up and takes charge. This is also when he starts earning the respect of his sergeant Stan (Blake Harrison) for the first time - they have a real bromance, both on and off the show, I LIVE for these two.

But - just like in real life - he doesn't have this one breakthrough moment and everything is smooth sailing from there. He fluctuates, just like a real person would. He still has the tendency to run away from his problems, but I think what he's seen in the war, what happened at home and (yes, I'm making this about my ship) his love for Kasia (Zofia Wichlacz) make him realise the type of man he wants to be and he would probably try to act accordingly IF WE GOT A THIRD SEASON, BBC! 😤😡🤬

2. Old Boys (2018)

directed by: Toby MacDonald Jonah plays: Henry "Winch" Winchester

If you can only watch one Jonah movie, I beg of you MAKE IT THIS ONE!

I`ve found next to nothing about Old Boys and that seriously has to change. (watched the entire movie again, getting my non-existing gif-making skills ready, just the night before I got this ask, talk about fate)

This movie is so underrated, it doesn't even have a Wikipedia entry. Make it make sense! How is nobody watching this cutie-patootie work of art? Its adorkable in the best sense of the word, it's heartwarming, a little silly and oh! so funny!

It's losely based on the play Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, set in an all-boys british boarding school in the 1980s. Given the source material, catfishing is definetly a thing here, keep that in mind if you might find that topic difficult.

Alex Lawther's character Amberson (cliché school nerd and victim of bullying) falls in love with the new french teachers daughter Agnes (Pauline Etienne) who in turn has a crush on First-Class-Himbo Winch (portrayed by a beautiful, dimple-faced, british actor). Because Agnes is very artistic and looking for someone that matches her vibe, Amberson helps Winch to try to impress her, because Winch himself is... well... a little dim 😅.

Winch is easily my favourite Jonah character to date (yes, including Prince Eric). I have seriously considered changing my tumblr-name to themightywinch because of him. I mean... he's corteous and punctual, after all 🤣😍.

While not the main character, he's definetly the highlight of the movie. Jonah is likeable, charming, the right kind of awkward in the right moments, has fantastic comedic timing and great chemistry with Alex Lawther.

Just look at that scene alone! IT`S. SO. CUTE!!! (cute-raging over here 😡) Watching this just makes you wish Jonah would star in more comedies, because he definetly has the skills for it! This is just a feel-good movie that leaves you smiling with a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart. It has easily become one of my new comfort watches. Old Boys just never fails to make me laugh and I wish it would get more attention and recognition since it definetly deserves it! (like at least write a Wikipedia article about it) Btw, I bought this on Prime for 99ct, best money I ever spend!

3. The Last Photograph (2017)

(the trailer says 2019, but the movie was originally shown at the Edinburgh Film Festival in 2017)

directed by: Danny Huston Jonah plays: Luke Hammond

Fair warning, this movie is gut-wrenching. I don't know if this qualifies as an actual trigger-warning, but this movie deals with the loss of a child/ death of a young person, as well as the real life tragedy of the Pan Am Flight 103 bombed in 1988 so proceed with caution.

Luke Hammond (Dimples McGee) is on said flight to visit his long-distance girlfriend Kate (Stacy Martin) in New York. Kate's and Luke's first meeting is a little awkward imo, I think it's meant to be like a meet-cute, especially with the whole "Bird"-thing, it just doesn't really work for me. But the rest of their love story is very endearing, they're just two young people experiencing love for the first time. Their time together is told through seemingly random, incoherent flashbacks and memories, just giving little glimpses of what their relationship was like and it's the cutest thing. Little intimate touches, hidden smiles, shared laughter... It's shot in a way as if you're watching them through rose-colored glasses, which is probably the point.

I love the way this movie uses different lighting and colour changes to depict a difference in the time line as well as the emotional state of the characters.

We only see Luke in flashbacks (guess why) and follow his dad Tom (Danny Huston) in present day (which in this case means 2003) as he is desperately trying to retrieve the last photograph (hence the titel) he possesses of his son after his bag was stolen. To see Tom slowly losing his grip as he grows more and more desperate to find the picture is truely heartbreaking. (It's a polaroid, so there are no copies, this is truely the last memory he has of Luke. God, I'm tearing up while writing this.)

Because Luke is basically just seen through the memory of his father who obviously holds him in high regard/ romanticizes the idea of his son, he is portrayed in a solely positive light, which usually wouldn't give much dimension to his character. Yet Jonah still manages to fill this role with life and witt and charisma, making you understand why Bird fell for him. He's sweet, romantic, a little bit shy, which works really well here, has the cutest laugh and clearly cares really deeply for his father. He's definetly portrayed as the "you simply have to love him" kinda guy, which is why his absence cuts so deep.

This is also in huge parts due to Danny Huston's performance. Honestly, the sweater-scenes (or jumper, if you're british 😉) almost broke me. And don't even get me started on his letter to Kate or Kate's letter to him... ugh. It's. So. SAD.

This is obviously not for everyday watch. However, even though The Last Photograph is heartbreaking, it doesn't necessarily leave you hopeless and depressed. This movie feels like a loving tribute to an actual person and therefore has a beauty in its melancholy. Throughout Tom's journey there is hope and forgiveness towards himself. There's a beautiful symmetry to the whole thing. The ending feels almost satisfying if you can say that in this context.

I also wanna give a shoutout to This Is The Night (2021). The movie itself isn't that great, it's a little all over the place and I think they tried to do a little too much all at once. But I looo~oooved Jonah in this, Christians character arc is by far the most interesting one and I wish the script gave their character justice in the way Jonah's and Naomi's acting did. (Also this is the HOTTEST he's ever looked which is a bit ironic).

This list is probably going to be outdated soon, since he has a lot coming out in the near future (I'm especially excited for Rich Flu).

Sorry, if this is too long and rambly and if it took too long for me to answer, I got a little carried away and suddenly had a lot of gifs to make 😅.

Thank you soooo much for the ask, @measuredmotion ❤️.

#jonah hauer king #jhk the king #jhk #jonah andre hauer king #world on fire #world on fire bbc #harry chase #old boys #old boys movie #henry winchester #the mighty winch #winch #alex lawther #the last photograph #luke hammond #danny huston #the little mermaid 2023 #this is the night #naomi watts #measuredmotion #feel free to ask away i live for this shit

[newtmuch]

book harriet my beloved <3

#my art #tmr #the maze runner #tmr harriet #SHEEEEE IS PERFECT I WISH WE HAD MORE CONTENT OF HER #literally in love w her going by the CRUMBS we get of her in tst #shes got so many funky little interactions #sonya and her? married #the way shes a little mean and condescending even?? towards thomas but still good and kind is gold #also #MINHO AND HARRIET . LEADER SOLIDARITY they r besties #and shes trans bc i said so

[astralaffairs]

I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING I NEED YOU TO KNOW ABOUT. LONGTIME POLITICAL RIVALS THOM AND MC RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT AGAINST EACH OTHER

omg

--------

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Y/N's grip on her glass was slowly tightening; her narrowed eyes were locked on him from across the room. "What is he doing here?"

Priya, her campaign manager, sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Want me to have him thrown out?"

"No," she huffed. "He'd make a scene of it, and that's the last thing I want."

A moment passed in (relative) silence, save for the sounds of chatter scattered throughout the room at Y/N's campaign fundraiser. She tapped the toe of one of her black pumps impatiently against the polished floor, and it took all of her will to stop herself from snapping the stem of her wine glass; instead, she threw the rest of her drink back in one heavy sip. "How do you figure I should handle this?"

She turned to Priya with a weary eyebrow raised. Priya frowned. "I think you're best off proceeding as usual. Keep talking to prospective donors, and don't let him derail your night."

"You're probably right." Y/N's sour expression didn't fit her acquiescence. "But this is so obnoxious. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Watch yourself; there are reporters all around." Priya nudged her, nodding toward the lively crowd, but she wore an amused smile at Y/N's words.

"I'll behave if he does," she said, scowling.

"Good luck, then," —Priya's gaze flickered between Jefferson and Y/N— "because he'd headed this way."

Y/N had to resist the urge to groan loudly as Priya slipped away, offering her an apologetic shrug as she did so, but Y/N couldn't really blame her. Realistically, as Jefferson approached her, giving an annoyingly nonchalant smile when he caught her eye, nodding to her in greeting, Y/N knew Priya would have to let her handle it — still, she would've rathered Priya stick around to restrain her from throttling him.

Her eyes flickered down to her glass; for a brief moment, she regretted having already drank all of it.

"Attorney General L/N."

When Y/N looked back up, Jefferson stood only feet in front of her, a hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding a shallow glass of whiskey. She was too tired to even glare.

"Secretary Jefferson." Her voice was thick with resentment. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He shrugged, glancing about the room as he came up beside her. She sighed internally. "Well, it's an open event, isn't it? 'M here for the same reason as everyone else."

"To donate to my campaign, you mean?" Y/N folded her arms, and he grinned.

"I was referrin' to the open bar." He nodded toward the edge of the room, taking a sip of his whiskey as if to prove his point.

Y/N scoffed. "All that family money you're freeloading on, and you're still looking for free booze? You're such a fucking cheapskate."

"Language, Ms. Attorney General," he said, scandalized tone entirely contrived. She rolled her eyes. "Besides, it's much more satisfyin' to be drinkin' on your dime. I appreciate the generosity."

"Believe me, it wasn't meant for you." He frowned. "Is there really nowhere better for you to be on a Friday night than getting drunk at one of my campaign events?"

"Not really."

"That's almost sad." She looked at him with disdain, and despite how patronizing her tone was, he didn't look offended in the least.

"Aw, can't I just wanna hang out with you?" he asked, brow furrowed. "James was busy, so I figured this was the next best thing."

"Because we're best friends now?"

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I mean, don't flatter yourself. James 'n Dolley are still both far ahead of you on that list. And then there's Lafayette, too. And even Burr, really, but—"

"I get it," she cut him off, her cheeks flaring with heat as he wore a self-satisfied grin.

"But, hey, you're up there, too. Don't worry," he assured her, and she couldn't even bring herself to come up with some kind of biting retort.

"Right."

A moment passed in annoyed silence (well, Y/N was annoyed; realistically, Jefferson was enjoying himself), and Y/N glared down at the distinct lack of wine still sitting at the bottom of her glass. She didn't want to let him have the reaction he was looking for from her.

"You should leave," she said bluntly, and his eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to give you what you want and make myself look bad by having security throw you out. So you're going to get nothing out of being here," she hissed. "Please, just leave. You stick to your campaign, and I'll stick to mine."

"C'mon, now, where's the fun in that?"

"I'm just trying to fundraise; can't you leave that alone?" Her teeth were gritted as she spoke, and his smile was broadening; he was seemingly taking pleasure in how quickly she was getting worked up, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She just wanted him out. "Some of us can't just ride it out on daddy's money. We aren't all heirs to millions."

He quirked a brow. "Sounds like a personal problem."

"It is. That's my point," she scoffed. "I know we disagree on literally everything, but outright classism is stooping low, even for you."

"If you really need money, 'm sure there are a couple Super PACs on Capitol Hill that'd be glad to fork over a couple million." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes with his words, and he glanced back at her, taking another sip of his drink. Her glare didn't waver.

"If you're trying to create ammunition against me, it isn't going to work," she warned him. "You're wasting your time."

"Well, I'm hurt, now, Y/N." He frowned, free hand held to his heart. "Thought we were friends. Maybe I just came to see you."

Her huff was heavy, and he couldn't maintain his mild expression, his stupid, smug grin cracking through the facade. "We aren't on a first name basis, Jefferson."

He managed a pout. "After all these years? Aw, sweetheart, 'm devastated," he said, and when she looked away from him, her furious gaze instead turning to the hotel ballroom before her, the corners of his lips quirked. "We were even coworkers, once. Now, what happened to that?"

"As if we got along while we were working together." She didn't meet his eyes. "You've always been fixated on sabotaging my career, so I guess I'm not surprised that this is no different."

"Hang on, I never sabotaged your career," he said defensively, but when she cast him a disbelieving glance, his eyes flashed mischievously. "You did that perfectly well all on your own."

"I'm eight points ahead of you in the polls." She eyed him disdainfully. He shrugged.

"Don't get too cocky, now; the debates haven't even started," he replied, undeterred, "I've just gotta wait till the whole country gets to see you on live TV makin' a mockery of your party."

"Everyone knows people only watch the debates for confirmation bias," Y/N said dryly, again turning away from him. "You may as well drop out now. You've got no shot at the presidency."

He hummed skeptically. "I dunno about that, sweetheart—"

"Don't call me that," she seethed, but her annoyance only seemed to spur him on.

"So hostile," he sighed. "Now I guess I don't have to feel guilty that I'm stealin' all your donors, hm?"

"All my donors resent your policies almost as much as I do." Y/N couldn't maintain her anger, although she remained annoyed. Was this really his best shot at derailing her fundraiser? "Go back to pandering to Citizens United; you won't have too much luck with my pool of attendees."

"You sure? I've been told I can be real charmin'," he said matter-of-factly, and she huffed out a bitter laugh.

"By who, exactly?"

"Undisclosed sources," he said, shooting her a wink, and she pursed her lips; with the playful grin he wore, her smile was no longer all anger and resentment. "You'll have to take me at my word."

"I don't believe it, but I guess I can't really contest it," Y/N replied, and Thomas's grin broadened at the amusement he could hear seeping into her voice.

He raised a teasing eyebrow. "So you're tellin' me you agree, then?"

"That is not what I'm telling you." Her smile fell flat. Her tone was biting, but she turned away from him, folded her arms, and she could feel the heat rising in back of her neck. Her willing it away had little effect. He looked smug. "I'm saying that if you can't tell me who the sources are, then I can't fact check you, so there's no way to contest your claim. That's what I mean."

She was rambling, and he took another nonchalant sip of his drink, satisfaction obvious in his expression. "Mhm."

"I'm serious. It was a stupid fucking claim, anyway, and you know that wasn't what I said," she said, and the words were biting. Thomas looked down at her mildly, his smirk lazy.

"'Course."

"Stop being so damn condescending," she huffed. "I didn't agree with what you were saying. Now will you shut up about it?"

"What am I doin' wrong, sweetheart?" He folded his arms, turned fully toward her with an inquisitive look and a self-satisfied smile. "I didn't contradict you. You're allowed to think whatever you wanna."

"It's not me 'thinking whatever I want,' I didn't say that you were—" She cut herself off with a scowl as his smile widened, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly. Warmth was flooding her cheeks, by then, and she couldn't even bring herself to finish her sentence, didn't even want to admit aloud what she was defending herself for. She felt ridiculous. He looked unswayed. "God, I refuse to have this conversation. Why do you feel the need to antagonize me every fucking time you see me?"

"'Antagonize' seems extreme," he pointed out, and arrogance laced his voice. "I hardly said a word. All that spiralin' just now was all you."

"Because you were being a dick."

"Hey, all I did was ask an innocent question," he defended. "Why're you gettin' so worked up?"

"Don't act like I'm being irrational," she bit back, eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. "You only came here to get me worked up, and you know it. Stop treating me like a child."

"I'd never. I entirely respect you." She eyed him skeptically. He nudged her arm. "'S okay to get a little flustered now 'n then. I know I've got that kinda effect on people."

"I'm not flustered," she replied through gritted teeth, and he winked.

"Sure you aren't. No judgment here," he said, and the disbelief in his voice made her scowl.

"Whatever. I need to get back to fundraising. You're derailing my evening." The words were hard; her tone made it clear she had no interest in any further back-and-forth with him, and when he sighed, it was dramatically weary.

"You don't wanna spend any more time with me?" he asked, brow creased in faux disappointment. "Now, Y/N, I came all this way just for you, and I've gotta say, I'm hurt. Thought you were enjoyin' my company more than that."

"I wasn't."

He clucked his tongue. "Too bad. I was enjoyin' yours."

"You were enjoying making fun of me, you mean?" she countered, and he grinned.

"Believe what you want, but I said all of four words, before, sweetheart—"

"That isn't my name," she interjected, but he didn't stop.

"and you were still busy defendin' yourself for a whole lot longer," he continued. "And I'm not sure why you were defending yourself for so long, really. Didn't I tell you I wasn't passin' any judgment? I get that I make you nervous. It's okay."

"What? You don't make me nervous. I've literally worked with you for years," she huffed, eyes narrowed. When he raised a disbelieving brow, she shifted uneasily where she stood, breaking his gaze. "Whatever. I'm done with this conversation; you can show yourself out."

"Just walkin' away so unceremoniously?" he asked incredulously when Y/N turned on her heel. "Aw, c'mon, now, no hard feelings, alright?"

"Maybe not from you." She glanced back at him over her shoulder, eyeing him disdainfully before starting off in the other direction. He grinned.

"See you at the debates, Y/N," he called after her, and satisfaction lay heavy in his voice. "Always a pleasure."

She rolled her eyes, and her pace didn't stutter, but as she retreated back to the room full of overgenerous millionaires, the tips of her ears still burned. If she lost this election, she'd never hear the end of it.

#hzl talks #send me asks! #hamilton x reader #hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fic #hamilton fanfiction #lafayette #lafayette x reader #thomas jefferson fic #thomas jefferson fanfiction #thomas jefferson imagines #thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader imagines #thomas jefferson x reader smut #thomas jefferson x reader drabble #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs fanfic #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed fic #daveed imagine #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson scenario #thomas jefferson scenarios #thomas jefferson smut

[mikkomacko]

Dear Daisy 2

Harry is not a bad housemate. He keeps the house pretty clean, at least the part of it he actually lives in, and the hallway that Daisy's room is in, is for her. He let her rearrange the bathroom to her liking, even though she was going to do either way, and she cleaned out the office next door, with the exception of the desk drawers. They were locked, and when she mentioned it to Harry he simply grumbled "and they're staying locked."

He doesn't go to work very much, even though Daisy knows he's got a job in the office of the company, but even when he's home he sticks to himself. Of course they eat together, and they go to town together because he wanted to make sure there was food in the house that she likes, and sometimes they sit in the living room together, Harry looking over paperwork while she reads a book. She never thought that Harry would be quiet, considering he use to take every opportunity he saw to tease her, but she's not going to complain. She prefers silent, brooding Harry to rude, condescending Harry.

The back porch creaks under his footsteps, letting Daisy know he's come outside. She doesn't look at him, continuing to move her crocheting needle through her yarn. The sun's getting warmer and the grassy dewier, and Daisy's glad she decided to bring a blanket out to sit on. She hates the way wet grass feels on her legs.

She hears Harry come off the porch, and his feet tap on the flagstone pathway, and finally the grass squish under his feet. "For fuck-" he mutters through a huff, not finishing his sentence before he's literally leaping on the blanket next to Daisy. She tries not to snicker as she moves over so there's room for him on the blanket.

"Why's the grass bloody wet?" Harry grumbles, falling on his behind and stretching his legs out in front of him. Daisy looks up, giggling when she realizes he's barefoot.

"I watered it yesterday because it was getting crunchy." She says, trying not to sound to happy that Harry got mud on the bottom of his feet. She's sure he can tell.

"When did ya do that?" Harry asks, leaning back on his elbows.

Daisy shrugs. "Don't know, you were upstairs I think or something."

"Every time I ask you a question, you say ya. don't know."

"I knew the grass was wet." She says teasingly, smirking when Harry let's out his famous annoyed huff. He doesn't respond for a bit, just lays by her and watches her fingers manuever the needle. After a moment, he speaks over the twittering birds.

"Where'd ya learn to do that?"

Daisy hums, finishing her stitch before answering. "My grandma, she taught my mom too but my mother's awful at teaching anything."

"Why?"

"Because she's impatient and rude when someone doesn't immediately think like her," Daisy pauses, looking up at Harry, "you two should get along quite well."

She looks at him long enough to see his eyebrows scrunch and hear him scoff, returning to her work with a smirk. "Maybe you should tell her how rude and impatient I am tomorrow when you have lunch with her and my mum. At least someone in that family will like me."

His tone is bitter, a low mutter in her ear, and for a second she feels bad. Until she remembers that he is rude and impatient, and deserves to be teased by her. It's only fair, and she wants to say so but she's too shocked by his plans for her for tomorrow to even mention it.

"What?" Daisy asks, looking up at him again. He's looking ahead at the fence and growing trees that line the backyard, but he's smirking cockily. She wants to wipe that smile right off his face.

"You're going out with the girls tomorrow. Gotta find a dress for our engagement party."

Daisy huffs, face scrunching in confusion. "I have dresses!"

Lazily, he turns towards her, eyelashes light in sun and eyes twinkling. Daisy thinks he looks cute, innocent. Until he opens his mouth of course.

"Not dresses that the wife of Styles man would wear." He gives her a fake smile, lips curling cruelly.

Daisy's cheeks heat up, both in embarrassment and anger, and she clenches her jaw to keep from saying something rude back. She's goes back to her crocheting, a new found energy going into it because she's so embarrassed she thinks she could jam her needle into Harry's ear.

He must be able to tell that he's pissed her off, because he sighs lowly and lays back on the blanket, looking up at the clouds while she crochets. They stay silent, and Daisy's beginning to think that maybe this is what the rest of her life is going to be like.

~

Harry drums his thin fingers against the steering wheel, humming along to the song coming through the radio. Daisy doesn't know what song it is, but she supposes it's pretty good, especially with the way it's beat rumbles in Harry's chest.

"Try and act like you don't hate me too much, yeah?" He requests, voice just loud enough to be heard over the radio. Daisy scoffs, turning to look at the side of his face.

"I know how to act in front of your mother Harry, I'm not stupid."

His jaw ticks, and his eyes flutter in annoyance. "Didn't say you were bloody stupid, was just reminding you."

"Well don't."

They fall back into silence, Daisy looking out the windshield as they drive into town. Harry said he was dropping her off at a restaurant where he's made her and the girls a reservation. She doesn't know what restaurant, and she doesn't really care because she's too worried about having to spend a day with Anne and Gemma. She can't let them know how she really feels about Harry.

His breaths are harsh puffs of air, undoubtedly muttering curses under his breath or in his head. Daisy ignores him, enjoying the ride into to town. They pull up in front of a restaurant called Ellio's, Harry leaving the car running as he climbs out. He opens her door for her, holding out a hand to help her out.

Daisy steps up onto the sidewalk, brushing out her skirt with the palm of her hand. "They're already be inside." Harry tells her nodding towards the building. She looks over her shoulder, seeing Kitty and Meredith sat by the window. Kitty waves a tiny hand at them, beaming when Harry wiggles his fingers back at her.

"I guess I'll see you later then." Daisy says, turning back to Harry. He nods, running his fingers through his hair and he squints at her. Daisy waits for him to say more, but instead he just sighs and shakes his head, ducking down to wrap his arms around her waist. It's a brief and awkward hug, Daisy barely having a chance to rest her hands on his shoulders before he's pulling away and walking around the car.

"Don't eat too much dear, still need to fit into your dress." He says, winking at her over the top of the car. She gapes, heart pounding as he climbs in and drives away. Her hearts still shuddering when she gets inside and sits with the others, her mind replaying the way he'd said "dear" over and over until she's sure she looks like a deer in headlights.

~

"How are you holding up with Harry, love?"

Daisy's skin feels itchy and uncomfortable as she realizes Anne's speaking to her. When Harry told her she was coming to lunch with everyone, she somehow didn't realize that she'd definitely have to speak about Harry to his mother and sister, and she doesn't really want them to know that she hates Harry. What mother wants to hear about their child being a bad person?

"Fine!" Daisy immediately squeaks, blushing at the way her voice cracks nervously. She clears her throat. "He's.... I mean, I'm-it's fine."

Anne chuckles kindly, dabbing her napkin at her mouth. "Oh it's okay honey! We know Harry's a tough man to be around."

The girls all giggle at Anne's admittance, and Daisy feels herself relax into her chair more. At least she doesn't have to totally lie today.

"It's a little awkward. I mean, we don't really know each other and he doesn't talk much, but it's fine." Daisy says, wondering how Harry came from a woman as kind as Anne.

"Oh, now he's quiet!" Gemma complains, "I lived with him for years and he was a menace!"

A chorus of laughs ring out, even Kitty joining in even though she's always enjoyed Harry. Daisy can't help but wonder what he's doing today, if he went to work or stayed home. She sort of wishes he were here for her to pick on.

"He's still a menace." Daisy murmurs, eyes widening at how fondly the sentence comes out. She looks around, hoping no one's noticed, but by the way Gemma smirks at her, she's afraid she's realized too.

~

Daisy doesn't really know what she was expecting for an engagement party she didn't plan. Maybe a nice restaurant, or a catered dinner held in the garden at Thomas' house. She definitely wasn't expecting to be driven to the docks, where a large boat was being loaded with people. People not wearing life preservers.

"W-we're going on a boat?" Daisy stutters, chest starting to feel hot as her heart pounds. Harry closes her car door, right hand taking hers.

"Yeah, m'uncle set it up."

They cross the parking lot, her knees wobbling the closer they get to the water. "Did-did you pick the boat?"

"Didn't pick anything," Harry says, sounding a little annoyed with her. "I was just told when to show up."

Daisy nods, biting her bottom lip. This couldn't have been on purpose, she tells herself as the back of her eyes begin to sting. Thomas didn't know she's terrified of water or he would have planned something else. They're reaching the steps up to the dock when Harry pulls her into the sand, hiding them by the wood pillars.

"What's wrong?"

Daisy looks up at him, shoulders folding in when she sees the heat in his eyes. Is he mad at her? It's not her fault that she feels this way, in fact, it's his fault.

"I-I can't, um I can't get on the boat."

Harry sighs, his eyes fluttering shut and nose scrunching. She knows he's upset, she's seen that look on his many times before. It's never been accomplished by that glint in his eyes, though, and she's not sure what to make of it.

"It's just that, I'm not 100% comfortable-not even like 10% comfortable-being on a boat."

Her cheeks burn in embarrassment as Harry eyes flicker between hers, a furrow between his eyebrows. "You're afraid of boats?"

"No, I'm afraid of the uh water underneath the boat." Her confession is nothing more than a sheepish murmur, so quiet she hopes Harry even heard her over the waves crashing. "I don't know how to swim....still."

She chuckles awkwardly at her weak attempt at a joke, waiting for Harry to start complaining about having to deal with a baby cry for a fiance. She waits for his nostrils to flare and his lips to curl up mockingly. She gets the exact opposite.

Harry's features all soften. His shoulders droop and the creases of his face fade into soft skin. She thinks she might even see some sympathy in his eyes, or at least regret and it makes tears well in her eyes.

"It's gonna be okay." Harry says softly, the usual growl in his voice gone. "We'll be fine, I've been on this boat a million times."

Daisy doesn't get a chance to question or argue with him because he wraps a strong arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his shoulder. It's like all the air is sucked out of her body, and her stomach flutters as she feels how warm his body his and how good his cologne smells. It's not fair, it's not fair that he's this perfect man on the outside, dragging her in with his broad biceps and handsome smile, but constantly berating her with harsh words and intimidating gaze.

"I'll stay by you the whole time, promise."

The softness of his words, the way his voice is just a breath against her ear but the most sincere she's ever heard him, makes her lean into him. He strokes a thumb over her exposed arm, waiting for her to speak.

After a moment she realizes where she is and who's holding her, and her heart jumps into her throat. She quickly pulls away, wiping under her eyes to keep from having to look at him. "That's not very comforting." She jokes pathetically, straightening out her dress. A tiny smirk tugs at Harry's lips, one that looks too forced to make her feel proud of her teasing, takes over his face. He doesn't say anything, but he does reach out for her hand, and his hold stays strong as they step into the boat.

~

The laterns on the deck are lit, and the plates and food cleared away. Daisy, practically glued to Harry's side, is starting to feel droopy and tired as she listens to Harry chat with someone from work. She thinks his name is Peter, but she's met far too many people tonight to remember. Her cheek falls to rest against his arm, eyes fluttering over the area. A few people have taken over the dance floor, swaying and twirling to the soft music flowing through the air. Daisy spots Sterling and Stella pressed together on the dance floor, and she immediately smiles. She wonders what it'd be like to love like them. To be with someone who genuinely wants you for you, and not because they're being rewarded too.

Summer and Kitty are also on the dance floor, Kitty's little legs wrapped around Summer's thin waist as she giggles and laughs. If this were a normal night Daisy would be with them, spinning and tossing Kitty around without a care in the world. But she has to be Harry's fiance tonight, a fiance deserving of a rich business man like Harry.

Daisy was so busy watching her friends she didn't realize that Harry's friends have excused themselves or that Harry is reaching for her other hand. She lets him take it, hoping that maybe they look as good together as Stella and Sterling.

"Wanna dance with me?"

She looks up at him, chest seizing when she sees the laterns glowing in his eyes. "Okay," she agrees, grin growing when he leads her towards the others. He stops at an empty table for a moment, peeling off his suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button up. Her cheeks go hot as she watches him. She can't believe how good he looks in his just button ups and suspenders, hair a little mussed up from running his fingers through it.

Harry nods towards the middle of the floor, settling a warm hand on her waist and taking her other hand in his. She reaches up to grip his shoulder, inching closer to him as he begins to sway. She lets herself relax, despite the itching reminder that she's still floating on the ocean, and let's Harry guide her. Turns out he's fairly good at dancing, and that makes Daisy even more annoyed.

"Not too bad, huh?" Harry whispers, looking over the people around them. "Being with me, I mean. I had a good time tonight."

Daisy doesn't know what makes her say it because she's never been honest it vulnerable with Harry. But she still lays her head on his chest, murmuring, "I had a good time too."

Her eyes flutter shut, heart beat steadying and she thinks about how Harry stuck to his promise. He had kept his hand in hers or an arm around her shoulders all night. Every time they hit a bit of bumpy water he squeezed her closer and murmured in her ear that everything was fine. The more time she spends with him, she realizes, the more okay she feels about being with Harry. And maybe that's not a terrible thing.

#dear daisy #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles au #ww2 harry #soldier harry #angst #1930s #1930s Harry

[gothighunicorntolerance]

An Oath- Fields of Gold p2

AO3

Virgil woke under silken bedsheets in the unfamiliar room. Looking out the window, he saw that the sun was only beginning to rise, casting a sliver of golden light across Roman’s unfurled wings- in a fleeting thought, Virgil realized how beautiful Roman looked, with his wings seeming to glitter and the sharpness of his jaw relaxed.

Virgil kept those thoughts to himself, of course, as there was no way he had any kinds of feelings for Roman other than those of slight annoyance and gratefulness, and perhaps the kind of feeling one has when they’ve just met someone they hope to stay good friends with through the rest of their lives. Those were the only feelings he had for Roman, and to say anything to the contrary would be absurd. 

Throwing the covers off, Virgil stepped onto the carpet. It seemed like everything was better in the world of the faeries, including flooring and bedsheets. Taking his cloak from where he had left it on the back of the oak chair for the writing desk, Virgil was struck by the thought that he had no idea what to expect from faerie courtings or weddings. Surely if there was something he needed to know, Roman would have told him, right?

    By now, the sun had almost fully risen, and Roman sat up in the bed. Looking over at Virgil, Roman asked, “Sleep alright? I sure hope you did, because I’m pretty sure my mother is going to want to be around you almost all day, and I wouldn’t want to be sleep deprived around her.”

“That’s really comforting. Thanks.”

In truth, Virgil had slept very well, even with Roman snoring beside him. 

That had been the first of Virgil’s many days in the palace of the summer faeries. 

It had been twenty long days since Virgil arrived through the tree of being inspected by Roman’s mother, having been scolded for seemingly the smallest things. The worst by far had been being scolded for slouching, something Virgil hadn’t realized he’d done yet the queen had threatened to put a stick down his shirt to force him to sit up straight. 

Things hadn’t been all bad, of course. He did have to suffer through being measured and prodded at by a tailor, but it had been worth it in the end- the day after that, it had seemed like a sea of fabric had arrived in Roman and Virgil’s shared room. Every shade of purple hung in a gigantic closet hanging opposite of shimmering red, and quite honestly, Virgil had no idea what to do with so many clothes. He hadn’t repeated an outfit, and it was getting a little ridiculous at this point. At least Virgil didn’t have to worry about what shoes matched (frankly Virgil didn’t know why it mattered, but to some humans it did), as the fae went barefoot all the time, and now so did Virgil. Still getting used to the black-and-purple train on his loose robes, Virgil stumbled occasionally on the soft grass where he walked in the gardens with Roman, who was pointing out the different types of flowers. 

“Roman!” 

The two of them looked up to see someone, who, unsurprisingly, had a strong resemblance to Roman who was holding hands with a slightly shorter dark skinned man with glasses. 

“Uncle Thomas! Uncle Nico!” 

Roman ran toward the two of them, grinning, while Virgil stood where Roman had left him, unsure of what to do. That was another thing Virgil found living with faeries: he was very unsure of what he should be doing. What fork to use, what outfit to wear, whom he should greet with a bow and who to use a condescending stare at. 

But Roman had apparently decided for Virgil what to do, as he was dragging the fae who called his name towards Virgil, one with iridescent beetle wings similar to the queen’s and one with wings the size and shape of a hawk’s but a bright blue on one side and yellow on the other.

“Uncle Thomas, Uncle Nico, this is Virgil, my er, betrothed.”

Only Virgil caught the slight hesitation and wince as Roman called him his betrothed. 

“Pleasure to meet you, sirs,” Virgil bowed, not nearly as clumsy as the first time he had attempted to do it, thanks to all the hours spent with the queen practicing his posture and manners and all other things she told him to. 

“No need to bow, Virgil. The honor is mine,” the man wearing glasses said, holding out his hand. “I’m Nico.” Virgil shook his hand and introduced himself. 

“I’m Thomas,” the taller one said. “Roman’s uncle by blood. The queen is my sister, so I apologize for anything grief she’s given you about being formal,” he chuckled, Virgil joining him. “We came for the wedding! Three days, right, Roman?” Thomas continued. Virgil couldn’t help but admire the rainbow of colors on Thomas’s wings as the light reflected off them. Watching the shimmering distracted Virgil from the knot in his stomach that formed as Thomas reminded him that the wedding was in only three days, taking place at sunset on the third. 

“Well, we’ll go get settled and let you two finish your walk,” Nico winked at them and looked knowingly at Thomas. 

“I’ll see you later!” Thomas said as the couple walked out of sight. 

A moment of silence passed before Roman looked Virgil in the eye. 

“We haven’t talked about that yet…” Roman said, a hint of guilt in his voice. “I don’t know where you stand on kissing, but for a public display we can do a theater kiss. It’s where I would put my thumbs on your lips and kiss my thumbs instead of you,” Roman explained off of Virgil’s confused look. “We’d probably have to do a real one at the wedding, though.” 

“Er, Roman? I- I’ve never actually kissed someone before,” Virgil said in an embarrassed whisper. 

“Oh,” Roman thought for a minute. “Well, would you like to kiss me for real one time? That way-” “Okay,” Virgil said, a flush rising in his cheeks.

“Okay.” Roman put his hands around Virgil’s waist and pulled him in close, the two of them chest to chest. Virgil closed his eyes and tilted his chin up slightly, trying to remember how everyone he saw making out in the shadows did it. 

Their lips touched, and Virgil felt a shiver go down his spine as he leaned into Roman, wrapping his arms around his back and feeling the smoothness of his wings pressed against Roman’s back. 

Finally they pulled apart, standing in silence before Virgil started silently laughing. “If that’s how kissing always is, then I don’t mind it.”

It was Roman’s turn to go red, though Virgil assumed it was from what Virgil had said- he didn’t mean it in that way, of course, but Roman had probably jumped to conclusions. Virgil held no feelings for him, but simply meant that he wouldn’t mind kissing Roman. 

    Three nights later, it was time. Virgil and Roman had been woken up early and ushered away from each other by servants. Virgil had recognized Talyn leading Roman down the hallway opposite from where Virgil was being led. In front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror, Virgil saw the most extravagant article of clothing he had seen, even after living with faeries for twenty three days and nights. 

    The lavender robes, almost dresslike, covered a dark purple tunic with silver stitching hung next to a cape that looked as if had been sewn right out of the night sky- shimmering purple swirled with streaks of blue and was spotted with silver and gold, seemingly placed there right from the galaxy above. And there, sitting on a carved wooden table, was a silver diadem with opals and amethyst embedded in the silver. 

    “This is.. All for me?” Virgil could hardly believe that he was to wear all that- surely that had taken so much work? How had someone done all that in twenty three days? And to wear it only once would be a shame… someone had worked so hard on that! He briefly wondered what Roman would wear- would it be like Virgil’s, dark and swirling? Or something else?

    Virgil’s train of thought was interrupted by one of the servants unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Hey!” Virgil cried, still shy about himself even though his body had changed. 

“I apologize sir, but it’s our job to get you ready,” they continued, either not seeing the discomfort on Virgil’s face or simply not caring. 

    When they were done, Virgil looked at himself in the mirror and gasped. Surely that couldn’t be him dressed in the garb made for royalty? In the cape made from the stars and robes the color of precious gems? The center gem on the diadem rested on his forehead, a contrast to his dark hair, which had been arranged with a short braided crown holding the diadem in place and the rest brushing against the collar of his indigo tunic. 

    The servants bowed as they left, leaving Virgil alone with only his reflection. After a moment of solitude, the door opened again, and in walked the queen. 

Dipping into a perfected bow, careful not to mess up the diadem’s placement, he greeted her. 

“You are to be my son-in-law soon,” she said, dipping her head in acknowledgement. Another thing Virgil had learned is that the fae are very direct to the point- perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they couldn’t tell a direct lie, but Virgil actually liked how no one he talked to avoided the point or used confusing expressions. 

“Roman will be happy with you,” she continued. “I will admit I had my doubts about you, being a mortal, but you have certainly proven yourself to be able. Roman will have a good husband.”

Virgil simply nodded, not replying. 

“Now come,” the queen beckoned him to follow as she left the room. “It’s time for you to wed my son.”

Virgil stepped onto the grass, his galaxy-esque cape trailing behind him, led by the queen to the altar where an officiator stood. Virgil could feel his heart hammering in his chest and was surprised that no one in the seemingly endless crowd of fae made a remark. 

Suddenly the silence seemed deafening, and Virgil looked down the aisle to see Roman walking towards him, led by someone Virgil didn’t recognize but looked identical to Roman except for a scraggly mustache on his upper lip. Roman looked even more dressed up than Virgil, if that was possible. 

Where Virgil’s robes and cape were like the night sky, Roman’s was like a bright summer afternoon- a red sash was held in place by a belt that seemed to be made of pure gold and the cape that hung off his shoulders seemed to be brighter than the sun itself, the ensemble completed with a diadem made of gold, the twin to the one Virgil wore. 

Then, when Virgil thought Roman couldn’t get any more beautiful, Roman stopped in front of Virgil and smiled, churning the butterflies in Virgil’s stomach even more. 

Roman’s brother stood to the side as the officiator bent down to pick up two crowns- one silver and one gold, each studded with even more glittering gems. 

The officiator cleared their throat and began. 

“Today, we see not only the union of two men, but also the union of two worlds,” they unwound a piece of ribbon and placed Virgil’s and Roman’s hands together, wrapping them in the grass-green silk. 

“Prince Roman, do you declare today your love for Virgil?” “I do,” Roman said, nodding.

“And Virgil, do you declare today your love for Roman?”

“I do,” Virgil echoed. 

“Then let the sun and trees bear witness, as do all gathered here today, that Roman and Virgil are wed, both by love and by law. You may now kiss.”

Roman moved forward, putting his arms around Virgil’s waist. Virgil closed the gap between them, putting his lips on Roman’s. The kiss was just as nice as the first time they had kissed in the gardens, though Virgil couldn’t help feeling self conscious as the crowd of fae stood and clapped for them. 

Roman pulled away, and looked out at the crowd, ginning. Music began to play even louder than the cheering crowd, Roman pulled Virgil into a dance, each swaying to the music. Virgil found himself silently thanking that he had been taught the basics of almost every dance he could think of. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas and Nico, both their brightly colored wings glinting in the sunset as they danced together. They looked so in love with each other, it was hard for Virgil to imagine ever loving someone that much- nevertheless, he hoped he would. And there, in a corner, was Roman’s brother kissing a man with the black wings of a raven or crow.

As Roman twirled Virgil, he could just make out what Roman whispered in his ear. 

“Thank you, Virgil. I owe you so much.”

The only acknowledgement Virgil gave was a subtle nod of his head.

***

That night, after dressing out of their finery and laying in their shared bed, Virgil turned his head to Roman and asked, “Why me? Why a mortal? Why couldn’t you have one of your friends do it?”

Roman looked over. “We can’t lie. I said I love you, and I do, platonically. But a friend, which I have very few of, could be asked something like “does Roman love you romantically,” and they would be forced to say the truth: no. You, however, can lie. You can say that yes, I do love you. And it’s not unheard of for faeries to fall in love with mortals, so either way, no one would become suspicious that I don’t love you.”

“Why would that be such a bad thing? That you don’t love me, I mean.”

Roman sighed, and Virgil immediately regretted asking so many questions. But Roman just answered with a frown.

“Marriage is a sacred thing to the fae. We marry only for love, and binding yourself to another is the highest form of love. Faeries are born to be wild, untamed, free. A wedding makes you stay with that person for the rest of your life, which in our world, can be centuries. That’s why it would be so bad.” 

“Oh.” was all Virgil said. 

The next morning, Virgil woke before Roman as usual. The unusual part, however, was that Roman seemed to have trails of tears running down his cheeks and wetting his pillow. 

Virgil sat up for a moment, wondering what could have happened that drove Roman to tears. Roman had seemed fine, happy even, at the ceremony. So what could have happened?

#sanders sides #prinxiety #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders #Fields of Gold au

[mr-barrow]

Ye be warned: the following is a full on rant concerning Anna Bates.

As I sit here now and ponder, I can’t think of a character on Downton Abbey that I find more fickle than Anna--and that’s saying a hell of a lot, with these people. As a result, I’m the most undecided on my feelings when it comes to her than just about any other character in the whole damn show. 

At her best, she’s the picture of Goodness, and the sort of meekness that is admirable rather than pitiful; her faith in Bates and her loyalty to Mary show her to have solid personal morals, despite however any of us may feel about either of them in general.

At her worst, she’s condescending, short-sighted, and self-righteous--and she gets away with it, too. 

I’m going to frame my argument with her interactions with Thomas. This is for a couple of reasons. Firstly, seeing as he’s my personal hyper-fixation, I’m most confidant in my recall of scenes involving him. Second, Thomas is in the unique position of being someone Anna at least vaguely dislikes throughout the whole six seasons; everyone else was a temporary presence. That being that, and seeing as how they’re stuck working together and Anna at least tries to remain neutral in regards to him, there are certain moments that are just so telling.

I’ll start with the good, shall I? In the wake of Sybil’s death, seeing Thomas breaking down, Anna comforts him--goes so far as to embrace him, just a little--in what I believe to be a genuine show of her compassion. She was well aware that Thomas thought highly of Lady Sybil, and after what he said about how little kindness he’d been shown, she supported him through it, even after the fact when Alfred questioned Thomas’ lingering melancholy. Thomas was receptive of it, too. And grateful.

A later, also well-worn scene is when Anna talks to Thomas after Jimmy left. She had nothing to gain from that, but she assumed, rather correctly, that Thomas needed to talk to someone about it. I mean, c’mon. He bared his soul in that scene, you can’t tell me otherwise. He readily admitted to feeling like an outcast and being sorry for it, and Anna was quick to assure him that it wasn’t a bad thing, wanting to be liked. 

All that said, while I admire Anna for her persistent kindness and I do genuinely love her for it, it also fuels the fire of those moments in which I genuinely hate her, too. Because anyone in that house could have taken a good look at him and guessed that Thomas was sad and lonely and suffering--in fact, many people did. But Anna knew. Thomas told her, himself. And she cared so little for it that she let herself forget.

Moving on to those little, ignorant comments she made that still make me furious all these years later. Let’s start with this absolute gem from 6x9:

T: “They’ve given me breathing space, but I can’t live on pity forever.”

A: “Still, it is a breathing space. Make the most of it. Why not use the time to try and understand what brought you so low.”

Thank you ever so much, Mrs. Bates, for those wise words. 

I mean...fuck. As if the man hasn’t spent the better part of at least a year thinking about what brought him so low. As if his suicide attempt was a whim, or a vague urge that he could brush off with a bit of shallow encouragement and a verse of Kumbaya ‘round the fire. 

And then we have this from the same episode:

A: “How’s it going? Are you getting on with everyone?”

T: “There isn’t much of an everyone to get on with.”

A: “Don’t you enjoy it more than being at war with all the world?”

Yes, I’m sure he feels much better now in his isolation. I’m sure he’s much better off being apart from the very few people who care for him--those people being Ms. Baxter and the children, as even if the others have come around to him, I’m not sure that he’d quite believe that yet--in a strange and dull house with no one to distract him from his thoughts. I’m sure he doesn’t miss Phyllis’ support, or the children begging piggy back rides from him, or the tentative security of an employer who won’t have him jailed or ridiculed for being who he is. 

But yes, I’m sure his new situation looks much better to Anna, because she can see that loneliness, can imagine that physical isolation in her mind in a way that she can’t understand the chronic desolation of the depression Thomas experiences. (Comments about killing herself if she got pregnant by Mr. Green aside; I don’t believe she’d have done it.)

Anna’s kindness, her good character, only extends as far as her understanding of the world. She understands abuse and loss, and whenever Thomas showed sadness and frustration that she could understand, she was the picture of generosity and virtue. But as soon as something was out of her perception, she gets really, really stupid, and it’s because she doesn’t realize that she has no idea what she’s talking about. Anna has known hardship, but as far as we know she’s never known it without someone to support her in some way. She doesn’t know what it is to feel truly isolated in the way Thomas does, even surrounded as he was by so many people. But she offers her wisdom anyway, in all her denseness, that Thomas should think about why he’s sad, because acknowledging it will make him feel better. 

Honorable mentions: I should say, at this point, that much of what I’ve said about Mrs. Bates also extends to Mr. Bates. I’ve only focused on Anna because I’m slightly more positive about what I feel for him than I am for her. I believe he understands Thomas better, but I also believe he cares less. 

Of course, he doesn’t understand him all that well. “Perhaps you should try being nicer,” he says, like that would fix anything, and with complete disregard to whatever might have lead Thomas to be mean in the first place; forget the cause, only see the affect. 

Also, the behavior of the Bateses toward Ms. Baxter in series five. What the hell would they have had her do? They’re just sitting there in their bubble acting like no one has ever known their hardships. And listen, I’m not saying they’ve been without their own trials. Anna’s assault and John’s murder sentence and imprisonment were harsh and horrible, but--and this is more a meta note on Fellow’s rehashing of tropes--the back and forth thing they had with prison was a bit ridiculous. And they got a happily ever after that Thomas will never achieve, whatever happiness he finds in the future. 

I want to like them--I want to love her. I really do. Everyone else seems to. And there are few things that please me more than a good fanfic where the people of Downton come to accept Thomas in a genuine way. 

But in canon? There are days when I just hate, loathe, despise the sanctimonious Bateses. 

TL;DR : Anna Bates is Nice but also Stupid, and has never talked to a depressed person in her entire life. Thank you, Fellows. 

#ugh #anna bates #john bates #rant #thomas barrow #feel free to fight me #thank you for listening #now back to our regularly scheduled programming

[maxwell-pls]

I swear - (Thomas x MC)

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Margaret Day)

Summary: After a long battle against her Ex-Husband, Guy, for custody of their daughter, Ophelia, Margaret Day’s world comes crashing down when the judge’s final verdict is not in her favor. When she thought all hope was lost, she realized who she still had standing in her corner...

Word count: Around 2000

Author’s note: Hi, hello! This is the first fic that I’ve ever posted, so the excitement is real! If you’re new to my blog, welcome! A quick couple things: I apologize for my misuse of past/present verbs, (that’s the one thing in English class I didn’t get the hang of), and any other spelling/grammatical errors. Secondly, this is the first time I’ve written in first person, I thought it conveyed the emotion better than third could have. This is also the first time I’ve done dual pov’s, again, I felt it was necessary to get all the emotion across. Lastly, I don’t know how custody proceedings work so pretend it’s accurate lmao. I hope you enjoy, and I’d love feedback! If you have any prompts, please feel free to send them to my ask (to the anon who sent one a couple days ago, I’m working on it next!)

Tags:

@dr-ethanjramsey @chanceisagoodboy @kingliamsbitch @chetachisblog @drakewalkerfantasy @annekebbphotography @adrianrainesworld @hopelessly-shipper @cordoniasmost @justinsbitchh

(If you want to be tagged on my future fics reply/ask/message me!)

—

*Margaret’s POV*

Everything was numb.

My ears stopped hearing, and my eyes stopped seeing. The only feeling left in my husk of a body was the tears streaming down my cheeks. I could feel their entire journey from eyelid, down as some even dripped onto my collar bone.

“Ms. Day?” Someone was calling out to me but I couldn’t make out who, perhaps the judge?

“Margaret..” I felt his hand touch my arm, it was Thomas. In the waves of ringing versus actual sound my ears made out a mutter of, “I’m so sorry.”

Everything happened so quickly, which I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. Guy’s smirk that was spread on his face was pure evil, it always had been. It was easy to tell he was never in this for Ophelia–

Ophelia.

I could see her blonde hair out of the corner of my eye, she had insisted on coming for “moral support.” She’s always been so wise for her age. What I didn’t see at first was his blonde hair.

“Mommy!” Ophelia’s cry snapped me out of my numbness. Guy was grabbing her and insisting she came with him, after all, he had won.

“Wait, please!” I screamed out, I just wanted to hold her, I need to say goodbye, to tell her I will fix this. But he won’t let me.

“Ophelia, lets go.” Guy pulled on her again. She barely moved, she was looking at me now with tears in her eyes. What was actually happening must have finally hit her. Guy decided on a new tactic and picked her up.

“Please, you can’t take her away!” I’m screaming and sobbing now. I instinctively tried to run out, but Thomas’ arms wrapped around me and held me back. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as he held me in the air, my limbs wrangling to get out. “Please, I love her! You haven’t been here, you don’t even want her!” My screams were piercing the walls, but they weren’t piercing his ears. He didn’t care. Guy has never cared. “PLEASE!” I let out one last scream before my voice broke.

Thomas finally let me go after Guy and Ophelia were gone, probably halfway to his car by now. But I didn’t even notice, I had fallen to the ground, my despair taking over me, my sobs loud enough for the whole town to hear. It felt like hours had passed before he finally helped me up and walked me to his car to drive me home.

The ride was silent. My head pressed against the window, I could still see with my peripheral vision that he kept looking at me, hesitating to say anything. It was like this the whole way up the stairs to my apartment as well. When we got inside, I walked straight to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, continuing my sobs from the courtroom. Thomas came in, he still didn’t say anything. I felt the weight shift on the bed as he climbed in next to me, then he pulled my head to his chest. As I continued to cry, I managed to mutter an apology as my tears made house on his, probably expensive, white shirt. But I could tell he didn’t care, as he brushed strands of hair out of my face and hushed back a “shhh.” He continued to hold me as sleep finally took over my body.

A knock, no, a pounding on the front door had startled me awake. It didn’t even affect Thomas, as I peer up and notice he too had drifted into sleep. I manage to gently creep out of his arms without waking him then journey to the front door, noticing his suit jacket laying atop the back of one of the dining chairs. The pounding on the door happened once more and stopped when I slowly opened it.

Of course, it’s Guy.

“I’m here to get some of Ophelia’s things.” His condescending tone wrang through my eardrums. I held back my tongue and motioned for him to come inside. I could tell he too noticed Thomas’ jacket, but surprisingly, he didn’t say anything. “I’ll need her school things and some of her clothes.” I didn’t hold back my tongue this time.

“What? You can’t buy her new clothes with your million dollar snack company?” I raise my eyebrows at him and cross my arms. He didn’t seem amused as he clenched his fists and his eyebrows arched.

“Just get me the damn bag, Margaret.” His tone has shifted to pure anger and I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore, so I just head straight back to Ophelia’s room to pack the bag.

*Thomas’ POV*

My eyes flutter open to the sound of conversation from outside the room. Margaret isn’t here, someone must have showed up, and I have a guess as to who. I climb off her bed as I hear her pass by the door and go into Ophelia’s room, Guy must be here for some of her things. As I walk out of the bedroom, I reach down to fix the undid buttons on my shirt, they must have came undone in our sleep. When I looked up, I came face to face with Guy who noticed my shirt, and my messy hair, which I hadn’t.

He let out a breath, not a sigh, it seemed too angry. “I should have guessed you would be here.” His breath was accompanied by a tone with the same message.

“Normal people like to check in on those they care about.” I cross my arms, it seems he is sizing me up. His next words came out a little quieter.

“Mm sure, that’s not usually the kind of IN they mean.” He glanced at my messy hair. I wasn’t sure what he—

Oh.

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” I look him in the eye this time, but evoke no response. I was about to say something else before Margaret came back into the room, a bag filled with Ophelia’s things in her hands, which it wasn’t there for long before Guy aggressively snatched it out of them. He made a beeline for the door and went to open it but instead turned around, his expression was now a very large smile.

“You’re welcome by the way.” He looked right at Margaret and I instinctively stepped forward.

“For what..?” Her voice was low.

“Why, for giving you a free apartment to whore yourself out to every man—” Before he could finish my fist had locked with his jaw. I heard Margaret yell my name as I seemed to have blacked out, all I felt was his punches on my body and mine on his.

*Margaret’s POV*

I came out of the room and saw Thomas standing with Guy, the tension in the air was high. I looked on confused for a second before Guy ripped Ophelia’s bag out of my hands and headed for the door. I was staring at Thomas, he seems angry? I didn’t notice Guy stopped.

“You’re welcome by the way.” My eyes snapped away from Thomas and looked to Guy, who was smiling at me quite widely.

I’m confused, what were they talking about? “For what..?” I say with a low voice. If it was even possible, it seemed Guy’s smile somehow got bigger.

“Why, for giving you a free apartment to whore yourself out to every man—” My heart nearly stopped at the same time that Guy’s words did when Thomas’s fist collided with his jaw.

“Thomas!” I yelled out to him, but he clearly didn’t listen, his rage apparent as him and Guy were beating each other on the ground. I saw bruises being formed and a glimpse of blood, before hastily opening the door and running across the hall. I banged on Levi’s door with open palms, “Levi, help!” It didn’t take long for him to open his door and see the commotion happening through my open door behind me. He rushes, with me following close behind him, into my apartment and is going to break it up when he stops and holds his arm out to stop me as well. We watch as the scene unfolds.

Thomas hauls a bleeding Guy off the ground and within a second, shoves him against the fridge, pressing an arm to his throat. It almost seemed as though his eyes were flaming as Guy’s seemed to be tearing up.

“You listen to me.” Thomas spoke between gritted teeth, my heart is pounding so loud I don’t even know how I can hear the words he is saying. “You will not look at, talk to, or even think about Margaret. If you come anywhere near her, I will stick my hand down your throat, then I will rip out the good for nothing block of ice that you call a heart.”

Guy’s words came out with some blood as well, “What about her seeing her kid?” My kid. Shouldn’t he say our kid? I felt rage of my own now.

“You’ll do drop offs and pickups with her lawyer, me, present. Do you understand me?” Thomas looked at him as Guy stayed silent. His eyes peered toward me and he seemed as though he was going to say something but was stopped as Thomas punched him in the stomach. “I said, do you fucking understand me, Mr. Ledford?”

With his eyes looking into Thomas’, Guy mumbled out. “Yes, sir.” With those worlds, Thomas let him go, Guy coughed and rubbed his throat where Thomas’ arm used to be. I was going to grab Ophelia’s bag but didn’t have to, Thomas did and shoved it into Guy’s arms. Levi shifted beside me and approached Guy to escort him out.

Giving him an intimidating look, Levi says, “Sometimes I forget how difficult those stairs can be to climb.” I noticed Guy nod in understanding before they walk out of the door, which I walk to close, stopping for a moment with my palms pressed against it.

*Thomas’ POV*

I wiped my busted lip onto my wrinkled sleeve as I watched Levi escort Guy out the door and Margaret close it behind them. She stops for a moment and lets out a sigh. The realization of what I had done is finally dawning on me.

“Margaret, I’m so sorry. It’s just, he shouldn’t talk to you like that, plus we didn’t even—” My words were stopped with the press of her lips against mine. They’re very soft, exactly as I’ve always expected, and always wished for them to feel. The part of me that always ran away, that always felt ‘not ready’ is gone, I’ve never been more sure about anything as I’m sure of my feelings for her.

*Margaret’s POV*

Before Thomas could finish apologizing I crossed the room and pressed my lips to his, capturing the rest of his words with them. All of our unspoken feelings for each other were finally being told, without any words. It feels as though the world has stopped around us, as though it stopped for us.

Our lips finally separated and he rested his forehead against mine. “Thank you.” I say to him, with a smile spread across my face. He pulls away and caresses my face with his hands, softly rubbing his thumbs against my cheekbones.

“I will never let him hurt you again.” His words come out with confidence and determination. “And I will do whatever, for however long, to help you get her back.” His eyes search mine for a moment before his final words. “I swear.” Without hesitation I wrap my arms around him, hugging him amorously and he quickly melts into my embrace. His breath against my neck, he speaks in a hushed whisper. “I’m done running.” And I realize with his words that I too, am done running. We will get Ophelia back, because with him by my side, I am unstoppable.

(Thanks for reading! 1. SIS SNAPPED. 2. Just a side note, for those interested, the courtroom scene was inspired by this scene from one of my favorite shows, Desperate Housewives!)

#thomas mendez x mc #thomas x mc #thomas mendez #thomas moty #mother of the year #moty fanfic #choices fanfiction #thomas mendez fanfic #choices fanfic #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices game #choices: stories you play #pb choices #my fanfic #fanfic

[effortlessly-bored]

The Bucket List - Michael Shelby

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2

Emma's first week in Birmingham was fairly uneventful. Henry didn't come back to the Garrison all week, giving Emma time to think. Her school hadn’t started yet, so she had focused on working hard at the Garrison, unpacking her flat and finding a pair of shoes that could handle all Birmingham threw at them. 

Emma spent her mornings at home, reading and writing letters home. She wasn’t overly homesick, but Emma’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss her dad and Mrs. Johnson. After she’d written the letters, Emma mailed them on her way to the Garrison. She worked hard at the books and keeping the pub moderately clean, which was a larger challenge than she anticipated. She worked till about 11 each night after which Harry took over for the stragglers. If she was being honest, Henry/Michael hadn't left her mind since they last saw each other. No matter what she was doing the back of her mind was filled with Henry. 

Because Henry/Michael signed all the books and paychecks, Emma knew that she'd have to seem him eventually. The more she thought about what Thomas said the less angry she felt. It wasn't that Emma wanted to forgive Henry/Michael necessarily; she almost didn't have control over how she felt about him. No matter how hard she tried to stay as angry as she once was, she felt the anger melt away. Don't get her wrong, Henry/Michael was in no way in her good graces, but she could at least understand where he was coming from. 

Putting on a brave face, Emma marched all the way back to the Shelby Company Ltd offices with the massive accounting book. She had made sure to call ahead and make an appointment with Mr Shelby, to save time. Emma felt a rush of warm air as she opened the door to the offices. She set the book down on a chair and hung up her coat. 

"Hi there," She said to the secretary. "I have an appointment with Mr Shelby."

"Of course, Miss... ah, Emma," the secretary said, finding the appointment in her planner. "Mr Shelby's running a little behind, but you can take a seat and wait till he comes back."

Emma smiled and said thank you when a familiar voice rang out. "Who's there, Lizzie?" Emma was still a little shocked at how low Henry/Micheal's voice had become. 

"Miss Emma Wallace, Mr Gray." 

"Send her into mine please." Emma gave a quick smile to Lizzie and slipped into the doorway of Henry's office. 

"You called for me Henry," Emma spoke before she realized they were not alone. 

The was a middle-aged woman sitting in one of the chairs across from Henry's desk. She had dark hair the was pristinely in place. She had an obvious look of disdain on her face, with a direct glare at Emma. It was obvious she was not happy with the interruption. 

"And just who might you be? And just why the fuck aren't you calling my son by his name?" 

"Mom!" Henry/Michael exclaimed. "Stop righ-"

"No, Michael. I want just who this girl thinks she is and why the fuck she thinks that's your name?" Emma couldn't move, the women taking menacing steps toward her. 

"Mom, Henry is my name too! And you don't get to talk to Emma like that!" Henry/Michael shouted, stepping in between his mother and Emma. He loved his mother but Michael would be damned if he let anyone speak to Emma that way. 

It was silent for a few seconds before Emma spoke up. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Don't apologize, Emma, you didn't do anything wrong." Henry/Michael said, turning around to look in her eyes. 

"No, I feel awful and I don't want your mother to hate me." She said, moving out from behind Henry.  

"Smart girl," Polly remarks. 

Emma sticks out her hand, "It's nice to meet you Mrs Gray, my name is Emma." Polly looked Emma up and down a few times before finally shaking her hand. 

"It's Ms Shelby, dear. So, how do you know my son?" 

"We grew up together, mum," Michael answers, still slightly nervous about the situation. 

"The girl can talk for herself, Michael."

"The girl has a name." Emma finally spoke. 

"Be respectful mum. Please." It seemed there was no way this situation would go well for Michael. 

Polly took a deep breath, not wanting to upset her son. "What exactly are you doing in these offices?"

"Emma's the new barmaid at the Garrison." Michael figured the less talking Emma did, the faster the scene could end. 

"Followed Michael out here, hm?" Polly was inherently distrustful, but especially so when it came to her son. 

"No ma'am, I go to the university across town and needed a job. I hadn't seen Hen- Michael since he left until last week. I'm just here for a meeting with Mr Shelby about the Garrison." 

"Yeah, mum. And I have to be at that meeting too, so I'll talk to you later." Michael gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before trying to usher her out the door. 

"It's alright." Said Emma, not wanting to be alone with Henry/Michael. "I can wait outside until Mr Shelby comes back. I just came in to give you this letter, Michael." Emma took the letter out of the accounting book and held it out for Michael to take. Polly snatched it before Michael even had a chance. 

"How dare you, you little bitch!" Polly was livid once she saw who the letter was from. 

"Mum! You can't speak to Emma like that." Michael was exhausted from his mother's antics. 

"This is a letter from the woman that took you away Michael!"

"It's from your mum, your adoptive mum," Emma explains, looking at Michael. “We write to each other, and I thought she had a right to know you were alive. She wrote a letter to you and I promised her that I would give it to you. She said there was a photo of your siblings in there.”

“Michael is not a part of that family, he never was-“

“With all due respect, I remember the first day Michael came to town. He had no shoes and clothes with hundreds of holes in them and even more stains. He was nervous and shy and wouldn't talk to anyone. He had dirt and soot all over him. The next day, Henry was washed and clothed in brand new clothes. His hair was clean and cut, styled nicely. And I'll never forget the shoes he was wearing. They were beautiful. Brand new, well polished and sturdy. No matter what, Michael always had a pair of shoes that fit him at his old house. They took care of him, provided for him for the majority of his life. He was always smiling and happy at home with his brothers. I just thought that your adoptive mother had a right to know you were okay." At the end of her mini-speech, Emma heard the front door open and heard Mr Shelby's voice through the halls. She said a quiet "Excuse me." and left the tense office. 

Michael was once again dumbfounded, for the second time in a week. Polly was seething, mostly because she knew that Emma had a point. Polly always felt guilty for missing out on the bulk of Michael's childhood and she never liked when anyone pointed the fact out. 

Michael walked up and gave his mum a hug, trying to calm her down. “Calm down mum, it’s okay.” He whispered. “I have to go to this meeting, but I’ll come over tonight okay?”

“I’m going to see Ada, call me instead,” Polly whispered, slowly handing over the letter to her son. Michael put the letter in his desk, in the same drawer as the bucket list. He gave his mom one last hug before walking into Thomas’ office. 

Michael had a sneaking suspicion as to why he hired Emma. He knew that she reminded Tommy of Grace a little bit, which worried Michael a bit. He didn’t want Tommy trying to make Emma another Grace. The whole reason Michael wants Emma to stay is so that he knows she’s safe and getting involved with Thomas would only cause harm, and make him jealous. The jealousy ebbed when he saw Tommy and Emma standing so close together looking at the accounting book. Michael quickly made his presence known by clearing his throat. 

“So, what is so urgent about the Garrison?” Thomas said, pouring himself and Michael a whiskey. Tommy sits in his chair on the other side of the desk while Michael put himself beside Emma. 

“Well, I’ve been working really hard this week trying to clean up the books and, well, the Garrison has been running a deficit for a few months. I talk to Zay about it-" 

"Zay? Do you mean Isaiah?" Michael asked and Emma nodded. "Since when are you two so close?"

"He's in the Garrison every night, we talk," Emma explained before continuing her point before. "Anyway, he said there was approximately thirty men who are official 'Blinders' which means thirty regulars who don't pay. Not to mention Arthur and John are in there it almost every night and say 'Drinks on me!' at least three times a night; but, of course, they don't pay so all those drinks are free." 

"So this urgent meeting was just about a few bad months at the Garrison?" Tommy asked slightly condescending Emma. "Love, I don't know if you've noticed but we can cover a few bad months at the Garry." 

"But it's not just 'a few bad months', the deficit has gotten bigger every month. Not to mention your putting all your faith in the American economy and prohibition lasting. And if your other business ever goes bad you're going to want a business like the Garrison to help keep you up.” 

“And what exactly do you mean other business?” Michael wanted Emma to have no part in the ‘other’ business. He’d made it clear to his cousins that she was to only work at the Garrison. 

“Let’s just say that I’ve overheard things at the Garry. Anyways, Mr. Shelby, you’re putting all of your eggs in one basket; and, when the American economy pops, which it will, you’re going to be in some trouble. But, if you invest proper efforts into the Garrison now, you’ll be alright. If there’s one thing you can count on men to do, no matter the economy, it’s drink.”

Michael and Thomas were both stunned; Michael wasn’t surprised though, Emma had always been a genius. “What the fuck do eggs have to do with this? And, how do you know it’s all going to go bad in America?” Tommy was a little upset some new girl had just come in and ripped apart his whole business. 

“It’s a country saying,” Michael explained. “If you put all your eggs into one basket and something happens to that basket, you’re fucked and you’ve got no eggs left.”

“And America’s economy is like a bubble. It’s only been growing since the war, getting bigger and bigger. One day it’s going to pop, and that could make or break you.”

“Alright, what do you suppose we do, then?”

“I think the Garrison should start a tab system,” Emma said.

“Okay, what the fuck, do what you want; just get the Garrison in the green, got it?” Thomas said, just wanting Michael and Emma out of his office. “Go to Michael’s office and sort out the details."

Emma nodded and Michael took one last gulp of his drink before they exited the office. The pair walked in silence to his office. The paper work didn’t last long, and it was completed in silence until Michael finally spoke up as Emma was getting ready to leave. 

“I remember that day too when I first came to town. You had to plaits in your hair, and it was darker than it is now. You were wearing a green and blue dress, it ended right before your knees and it had little spots of mud on it. You were missing three teeth, one on the top and two on the bottom. You were so friendly and bright; the opposite of everyone I had met thus far. It was a little scary because I didn’t realize people could be so kind. And, even though I wasn’t very nice to you at first you insisted on being my friend the next day. You made that town a home.” 

Neither one spoke for a minute, Emma stunned into silence and Michael too nervous to say anything. Michael wanted a smoke to relieve his anxiety but knew how much Emma hated the smell, so he refrained. 

“When does your school start?” Michael finally asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“How are you getting there? The school is across town.”

“Um, I hadn’t figured that out yet. I’m sure I can find a ride or walk.” She wasn’t sure of this at all. 

“Isaiah doesn’t have a car, so…” He says without any subtlety. “I do though, I could give you a ride.”

“I don’t want to impose, it’s not necessary-“ 

“Honestly, it’s the least I could do.”

“Is it a nice car? I only ask because I’ve never been in one, so I want my first time to be in a nice one.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. So will I see you tomorrow?”

Emma ponders this for a second then tentatively nods. “Alright, pick me up at eight, yeah?”

“I’ll be there, I promise.” They both know he meant it. 

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray #Michael Shelby #michael gray imagine

[girl-with-cat-eyes]

Where I Belong (1/?)

Summary: Thomas loved his family with all of his heart, but his never truly felt like they understood him. He never felt like he belonged when he was around them. With his infatuation with humanity, and now his crush on a human he was just always different. Virgil always felt like he had a role thrust upon him that he could never fill, that he could never be the ruler his people needed. His only solace in life was meeting with his secret friend. AKA: I wrote a little mermaid AU because I think this’ll be awesome. 

Ships: ThVi, Logicality, past Roman/Emile

Prologue Part 1 Part 2

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783453 

A/N: So we have a new chapter!! I know I just posted the first one but I am going to MIA this week, so I wanted to get it out beforehand. This time we have Virgil POV, also Remy appears in this chapter!! I had some trouble writing this chapter because of Remy honestly, getting that blend of sassy and serious is hard and you have my respect if you can do it. 

~

~10 years later~

    Virgil looked to the sky and sighed. The stars almost seemed to shine duller in response. His parents had only been dead for a year now, and the council was already pushing him to start courting some lord or lady. They claimed that it would be beneficial once he took the throne upon his 18th birthday, never mind the fact that he didn’t need a partner in order to be the king his people deserved. If he went down as a bad king, that had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t had any success trying to court some foreign prince or princess, right?

Or maybe that was just more proof that Virgil would never be a good king. Maybe he was destined to go in history as a terrible king, and this was just more evidence that this was true. After all, the council said that a marriage would be beneficial to him. Their advice had contributed to the success of his parents’ reign. His father had always turned to the council before making any big decisions. 

He had tried to stay hopeful when they suggested that he start looking for potential suitors. He was hopeful every time he was forced to meet another royal. He tried to stay optimistic with every failed conversation, the entire time hoping- praying- that it would work out. He tried not to cry when, without fail, it wouldn’t work out. When he couldn’t connect with them and the person in question left, and Virgil had to wonder if it was his fault; if the continuous failures were the result of something that was fundamen-

“Honey, why on Earth are you hiding away, on your balcony no less?”

Virgil looked up and saw his best friend and advisor standing on the doorway. Of course Remy would look for him after the disaster that was the latest meeting. Virgil was sure that his distress had been practically visible afterwards. He sighed, “Hey Rem.”

    Remy merely raised an eyebrow at him. “So are you going to tell me why you are outside moping, even though there is literally being thrown in your honor right now.”, he asked as he sat down next to the prince. 

    “You mean a party where I am expected to flirt with royalty and nobility from all of the neighboring kingdoms? I’m sorry if I’m failing at the one thing that everyone wants from me.”

    “So that’s what this is about, hmm? What they said is really bugging, huh girl?”

    Virgil simply nodded. He could still hear Lord Arlington’s condescending tone, ‘I simply believe that you’ll have a better reign as king with a partner by your side. And it would be better if you were to find one before your coronation.’,. His words had just been proof of VIrgil’s failures. That he wasn’t doing what he needed to do in order to be what his kingdom deserved. 

    “Well, in my oh so humble opinion, Lord Arlington is an ass. You being a good king has nothing to do. There have been plenty of good rulers who weren’t married upon their coronations. Hell, your own father was king for 5 years before he met your mother.” 

    “But what if they’re right? What if this is just proof that I will never make a good king. I don’t want to fail them. I-,” Virgil broke off with a sob, “I promised dad at the funeral that I would be a good ruler, and I don’t want to let him down.”. 

    Remy sighed softly and wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders, “For starters, the council may have some good advice, but they need to pull their heads out of their asses when it comes to this. I’m positive that you will find someone for you, and even if you never find love that doesn’t make you a failure. Secondly, you are going to be an amazing king. I can already see it in you. You want to do good by your people so badly already and you won’t even be king for another four years. I promise you that you, Prince Virgil Ashburn, will be the king that Lasteras deserves.”. 

    Virgil sniffled before looking at Remy with a soft smile, “Thank you, Remy. At least I know that you’re on my team.”, he leaned into Remy’s embrace and closed his eyes, “So, what now?”. 

“Now I am going to go back inside because it is muggy as hell out here and there is a rocking dude inside who I’ve been eyeing all night. And I will tell the others that you have a slight headache and wished to sleep but didn’t want to disrupt your guests.” Remy said as he stood up. 

Virgil smiled gratefully as his advisor before standing up as well, “Thanks man, it means a lot to me. I’m going to take a walk if you need me.” 

Remy gave his shoulder a final squeeze before heading towards the door, “Hey, I wouldn’t be your advisor if I didn’t know you like the back of my hand. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some nobility to flirt with.”. 

With that Remy went back inside. Virgil sighed softly before turning away from the door. He stared towards the sea before him as he mulled over his best friend’s words. Remy was right; it didn’t matter if he couldn’t find a spouse before his coronation. He could be a great king on his own. 

He gazed softly upon the water. His mother used to tell him stories about the sea and a kingdom of mer-people who resided close to their own kingdom. She would take him to a secluded lagoon and tell them these stories as they sailed in a rowboat. Tonight he thought of those moments, of his parents smiling as they spoke of nothing and everything, as the trio relaxed as if the world didn’t exist beyond that lagoon. 

Virgil smiled at these memories, “ I promise you guys that I’ll be a good king. I’ll you proud. I.. I love you, mom and dad.”, he whispered softly to the night sky. He would go out there tonight; the lagoon was close enough to the castle that he could sneak away for a couple of hours. He would go out there and just sit and enjoy the night, the way he did before his parents died. With that thought, Virgil headed towards the castle ground with a specific destination in mind.

~

A/N: There we have it. I’m very happy with how this chapter turned out, and I’m especially happy with the way I wrote Virgil. I will try to have the next chapter out by the weekend and it will be Thomas centered chapter, so stay tuned!! Let me know what you think!! 

Taglist:

@forever-forgotten-angel

@what-in-gaeas-realm

@lesliealiceinwonderland  

#writing #where i belong #thvi mermaid au #virgil sanders #remy sanders #thvi #thomas x virgil #sanders sides

[imagining-sio]

Escapism II

Chapter 2: The Local Pain In The Ass

“How were the boys?” Edna asked as I stepped back into the shop. I stood firmly in the Forrest, a perplexed expression upon my face.

“They are certainly something.” I said wearily, most of the customers had left, and it was around the time Edna was supposed to leave.

“Well they certainly are,” she chuckled fondly, sweeping the broom in hand side to side.

“How come you didn’t tell me those were the ones in the biker gang?”

“Because they aren’t, honey. Are you seriously believing the gossip about those boys?”

“I mean, the evidence given-“

“The evidence given? It is he said she said- Don’t believe a word that comes out of Rumlow’s General store. That spoilt little rich boy is only spreading those rumors to get women’s attention.” She shook her head.

“Who is Rumlow?”

“Oh I forget you’re still new around here,” she set her broom upon the wall next to her apron.

“Brock Rumlow is the stepson of Alexander Pierce; the county sheriff. Pierce himself is of old money. But Brock, that boy took every worst quality in trade for being handsome. You best steer clear of that boy, and his group of friends.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. He doesn’t come around here does he?”

“Please, he won’t go anywhere near Barnes, not after the incident at the Witch’s Coven.”

“I’m sorry; did you just say Witch’s Coven?”

“Yes it’s the local dive bar, it’s just outside of town, you’d probably pass by it on your way home. A few years ago, there was a nasty bar fight between those boys. It didn’t end pretty. Brock got off Scott-free. James however.”

She didn’t have to elaborate at that point.

“Well, we should be heading home.”

“Wait I thought you said I would be closing.”

“Well I’m think we take the rest of the day off. Thomas won’t mind, as long as I have a say.” She winked at me. This old woman was up to no good. You could see it from a mile away.

“I won’t argue that.” I undid my apron and set it upon the hook. I helped clear everything off outside, bringing it in so that Edna wouldn’t have to exert herself.

I placed the chairs upside down upon the tables, in order to do one last sweep of the place. Edna inventories for tomorrow and made sure the books were back in stock. She easily finished before me, reminding me to lock up for the afternoon. I nodded and kept sweeping. I turned some music on as soon as she was out of earshot; blasting my phone to the highest volume. I began serenading the broom handle, and then dancing with it; eventually using it as the microphone. It certainly made cleaning a lot more fun.

I finished up sweeping placing the remaining lint in the waste bin. I removed the bag and replaced it with a new one. I grabbed my belongings and walked out the only entrance, the front. Making sure to carry the garbage at an arms length away.

I went around back to place it in the dumpster only to find someone ogling himself in Oliver’s reflection.

“Can I help you?” I threw the trash bag over the side of the dumpster, catching the mans attention. His hair was tight along the sides of his head, and heavily spiked on top. Almost like he used way to much hair product to keep it that way. He had chiseled features, his cheekbones could cut glass. Something seemed off about him. Maybe it was because I caught him ogling himself as if he was out of a musical where he tries to win a girls heart by forcing her to marry him. Or maybe it was because he wore a black turtleneck with a blazer. Those types of guys were the ones who thought they were hot shit and fainted it to everyone they framed lesser.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” he adjusted his jacket, coolly playing off that he wasn’t breathing heavily on my bronco.

“I’m new here.”

“So you’re the new girl I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“I take it your a local then?” I raised a brow.

“Not just any local sweetheart, I’m the local,” he cocked his head to the side. He leaned his arm in the hood as if he was treating my car as his own.

“A local who needs to get his arm off my hood?” I raised my brows expectingly, holding my keys in the one hand. The slight look of fear graced across his smug features.

“Funny I never pictured a girl like you driving a thing like this?” He tried to play it off again, clearly disregarding my mood and patience.

“I’m just full of surprises, local,” I shot back, clearly unamused.

“Well how bout I take you out tonight and we’ll see how surprising you really are?” He blocked my path to my driver side door.

“Please move,” I said, my right hand slyly going into my purse, frantically searching for the pepper spray.

“Not till I hear an answer sweet thing,” he smirked.

“I don’t even know your name, what makes you think I’m gonna give you an answer.”

A motorcycle engine cut into the conversation. I swore I heard the man growl, not in the friendly way.

“Hey, is he bothering you miss.” I heard the voice. I turned my head to find my neighbor. Surprise graced my face, over his black shirt was an acid washed denim jacket. The way he sat in the matte black motorbike was making his thighs far larger than they should have been. He bore no helmet, his brunette locks shone brightly in the afternoon sun.

“Get lost Barnes, we’re having a conversation.”

“Really, what’s her name?” He smirked. The man stood silently boiling.

“Well Brock?”

“Fuck you Barnes!”

“I don’t swing that way buddy, sorry to disappoint.” His smirk only grew wider as the man, now known to me as Brock, turned beat red with anger, walking away. My shoulders slumped in relief as he rounded the corner.

“I thought he’d never leave.” I unlocked good ole Oliver and tossed my purse in the passenger seat.

“Yeah, he’s like a disease I swear.” Barnes chuckled.

“Thanks for the save, I thought I was gonna have to pull out old faithful here,” I gestured to my pepper spray. His eyes widened at the sight.

“Brock is harmless, really. He’s all bark no bite.” He shrugged.

“I’m not the kind of person who will take that kind of risk.” I put the can of pressurized blinding spray back into my vehicle.

“I noticed.”

“Do you now? What have you been watching me, neighbor?” I crossed my arms, shutting the door with a loud resounding thud.

“Hard not to when we’re the only two on the street.” He snapped back.

“Still doesn’t explain the ‘cute neighbor’ part. Just how would you know that if I haven’t seen nor spoke two minutes with you,” I glanced at my watch, “One of those minutes being right now.”

His mouth went slack. He scratched the back of his neck, the collar around his shirt loose ring, revealing the taut muscle beneath the black fabric.

“There is no good answer for that is there?” He said sheepishly, a red tint brushing across his cheeks.

“And that is the reason why I carry pepper spray.” I got back into my bronco, turning over the engine.

“See you round, neighbor.” I gave a condescending wave to him as I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.

The sun was shining just right over the mountain, and it’s light shimmer across the lakeside. The wind blew the scent of the water into the vehicle, and allowed that nice summer breeze to rid the hot summer heat to something more bearable.

I arrived at the house, immediately going to my room to put on something more comfortable. I put on the black leggings with the racing stripe down the sides and oversized grey sweatshirt. I grabbed my bottle of wine and glass, waltzing outside to enjoy my nightly sunset upon the lake. I planted myself in the chair upon the landing, popping the cork open and pouring myself a glass of rosé.

I looked over the lake, a few boats were out enjoying themselves on a nice evening. Whether they were fishing or out to enjoy the sunset. One boat however was as if it were in the x games. It was weaving between the others, making sure to splash them. A sense of dread grew exponentially as the boat started hurling toward me. I barely had a chance to cover my wine before a large wave hit me square in the face. The force of the wave was hard enough to knock me off my chair, sending me into the lake itself.

I heard a large group laughing at me as they sped off, and I by the time I was able to climb back up and give them a piece of my mind they were long gone. Probably some stupid rich man’s teenager thinking he could do whatever he wanted.

I wrung our the hem of my beloved sweatshirt, removing it to reveal the black halter crop top beneath. I angrily marched back into my house placing the sweater and leggings immediately in the wash. I changed into a pair of light jeans and white trainers. I walked out the front door to grab one of my cardigans I had left in the bronco, Oliver.

I regretted the instant I walked out the front door. I looked up to find Barnes parking himself in the garage, walking up to his mailbox, flitting his keys around the key ring between his fingers. He didn’t seem to notice me, to which I was glad. So I kept walking toward my vehicle. I opened the door, searching for the desired item while my feet were still latched to the cement driveway.

“C’mon where is it?” I said to myself in frustration. This day was only getting worse at this rate. I shit the door with a loud slam, moving toward the trunk; lifting it above my head. As soon as I opened the trunk I found what I was looking for.

“Aha!” I snatched it up from the floor, instantly putting it on, making sure to cuff the sleeves to where they were three quarter length. I shut the trunk, satisfied with my expedition. I looked back over to find my neighbor staring at me, eyebrows raised and mail in hand.

“Neighbor,” I said before walking back to the door. I went to turn the knob, but found myself unable to. I tried again, and again; each time growing more fervent.

This was not happening.

“Hey Neighbor,” I heard a male voice, his breath upon the back of my neck, causing chills to run up my spine. It took me back to a time I did not want to remember at a time like this. I instinctively elbowed the figure behind me, before whirling around to see the potential assailant.

“Whoa! Hey, it’s just me!” Bucky was doubled over, his arms clutching his stomach. Horror spread across my face.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry!”

“No it’s fine,” He wheezed.

“Don’t sneak up on people,” I said as I helped him stand upright. I looked at him, noticing that he nose was bloody.

“What happened?” I asked, my hands instinctively moving to check the cut on his forehead.

“Nothing,” he grabbed hold of my wrist with his right hand, his expression turning cold. It only made my blood run hot.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” I snapped back.

“Well, will it make you feel better is I said that the other guy looks worse.”

“I don’t condone fighting,” I said to him.

“Funny coming from a girl who can really pack a punch.” He looked at my door, “You locked out?”

“It would appear so.”

“I take it that pepper spray can is in there?”

“Yes,” I eyed him carefully.

“I can unlock the door; but you have to promise not to spray me when I’m done.”

“I’m letting you break into my house.”

“Alright then.” He backed up a few steps, enough to no longer stand under the small pediment awning roof above the door. He jumped up, his hands gripping the gutter. I on the other hand was turning beat red due to I was having a front row to his exposed stomach, exposing not only his very obvious v-line, but his happy trail starting from his belly button and vanishing beneath his belt line.

A few moments later he was onto the roof, climbing through the open window of my bedroom. I was slightly alarmed by how easily that he could climb in and through my window. Not a minute later my front door opened, with my handsome neighbor was on the other side.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” he said as I walked in. I could only give him a mocking glare as I stepped into my home.

“Thank you, now kindly leave,”

“Wow, tough crowd.”

“I’m not much of the crowd you’re looking for, Mr. Barnes.” I folded my cardigan over my chest.

“Please call me Bucky, Mr.Barnes sounds like my father.”

“Or I just call you neighbor and you go back to your house.”

“You really want me outta here don’t you?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” I ushered him out my door.

“Wow, Wanda would love you. You should drop by The Witch’s Coven; tonight is ladies night you know.”

“So you’re interested in a girls night out situation? What you wanna go out for mani-pedi’s” I scoffd mockingly.

“N-no! Just, I think you two would get along is all! I’m not trying to-,” He stuttered over his words, a bright pink tint flush across his face.

“One thing you should know about women, my dear neighbor. Us women, we don’t like being told what to do.” I gave a self satisfying smirk as I shut the door on his agape expression.

I didn’t bother to check and see if he left, I simply went back upstairs and hid from the world under my bedsheets.

——————————————————————————

It had been a week since I had any encounter with my neighbor. All I had gotten were fleeting glances, whether in his shop as I came to drop of coffee with Thor, or if they were all congregated in his garage. The group was certainly more welcoming than I had initially thought. Nothing could have initially preppared me for how blaise they were in their nature.

Today, the mood was certainly different.

I came by with Thor, whom upon my meeting of the crew, they had specifically requested I bring them coffee from now on; carrying coffe’s as well as pastries in hand. Clouds grew over the sky; a harsh wind whipped through the main street, I hadn’t put on any coat this morning, mainly because I was running late for work.

“They say it’s gonna storm tonight.” Thor drew conversation as we entered the shop. It was strange, he was quite restrained in his tone.

“Really,” I asked, looking up at his towering form.

“I suggest that you stay inside tonight.” He said before we started handing out drinks to their respective owners. It seemed strange for him to give me warning, let alone speak of something ill will coming. He wasn’t much of a religious person; then again I don’t know much about these people.

“Morning, (Y/N)!” Steve greeted me, I immediately noticed the bandage upon his cheek, a slight red tint upon it.

“What happened there?”I asked as I handed him his drink.

“O-oh, this?” He jittered, “It’s nothing.” He chuckled with feigned certainty. Steve didn’t seem like someone who would lie, considering he seemed really bad at it. I’ll let it slide, just this once.

“Right,” I smiled at him; “You can just tell me if you fell down the stairs, you know.”

“It wouldn’t be the frist time.” Sam muttered as he sipped his beverage. Every one seemed to look on edge, it was beginning to become contagious on my account.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Barnes is in a mood.” Sam replied, a grimace marking his face.

“When isn’t he?” Natasha walked past, hugging me as she went to pick up her danish.

“Well, if Rumlow would shut his mouth we wouldn’t be in this shithole.”

“Shithole?” Scott shot up, as the initial owner of this place, of course he would take offense.

“Look, lets just drop it. The best we can do is just lay low and stay out of trouble. All we have to do tonight is keep Buck from doing anything stupid, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” Steve’s authorative voice shut everyone down.

“You guys know I’m still here right?” I asked, making all of them pale.

Just as Steve opened his mouth the door from the office slammed open. I almost dropped the last drink in hand it was so loud. It felt like a bomb going off, but it only hieghtened the tension to the whole shop. I watched as my neighbor marched through the shop, a bold black and purple bruise under his eye, his lip split, clealry dishevled. The bruise wasnt fresh, but it had to have happened either the night before or the penolument before then. The look in his eyes were a raging sea, ready to capsize any object in its way.

No one dared speak for the frist few minutes as he went about to working on the nearest project. I simply handed the blonde adonis his best friend’s beverage and left.

I was to close up in the evening, Edna and Thomas were going out of town for the weekend. Since they were so kind, (and wealthy), they gave me overtime and let me off for the weekend.

As I was sweeping the floor, the door opened. I looked up seeing the man from last week who was ogling my vehicle.

“Well, well, well,” This time he was accompanied by two of his rather large and very intimidating friends.

“If it isn’t the new girl; now why would you be working in a slum like this.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a slum, Local,” I replied, the grip on the broomstick hardening. In the distance thunder clashed in the skies above.

“Anywhere near the shitpile shop over there is a slum in my book.” He hiked his thumb and pointed directly at the auto shop I was previously in this morning.

“I haven’t had a problem with them.”

“Thats because you shouldn’t assoiciate with them, sweetheart,” He took a step closer to me; to which I promptly took three steps backward. His two friends roamed around the store, feigned interest in the books. They were clearly there to initmidate. I knew this play, I had experienced it before. I was dissapointed that I would be experiencing it again so soon.

“I dunno if you know anything about the female species, Local; but you don’t tell them what to do.” I stood defiantly.

“Well they should listen if they know what’s good for them.” He sneered. I tried to back away from him as he quickly approached me, but I was blocked in by the cake display case. In addition, he blocked my exit from one side with his arm. My grip upon the broomstick went bone white. I watched as he nodded his head, and his two bodygaurds went to the front door, locking it as they left. Alarm bells were going off in my head. This was not good. Not good at all.

“You see sweetheart, me and you new neighbor don’t really get along. And he seems to be a constant pain in my ass. But you, you can get close to him, can’t you? You’re his sweet, cute, little neighbor. So, I’ll be generous with you. You get close to him; and then you relay everything about him to me. If you do, I won’t let anything happen to you.” he smiled, it only made me quiver with fear.

“If you don’t. Well, I can’t say it won’t end all sunshine and rainbows.”

This whole scenario I was in was starting to become a broken record. I leave a town because of men like this; I run like a scared little child. I came here to start fresh. I shouldn’t be scared of this wannabe when I ahd already expirenced somethign far worse than the real thing.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

“Are you done with the whole Godfather act?” I raised a brow. I swatted his hand off of the display, moving behind the counter, continuing with my cleaning.

“I don’t know if you have noticed, Mr.Local; but I’m not the type of person who takes orders from self entitled assholes who need human gaurd dogs to compensate for his micropenis.”

I gave him a glance, watching the sweat bead down his angered explression. I clearly hit a nail somewhere in that sentece.

“You’re asking me to basically commit espionage. And for your puny brain you may not know that is the criminal term for Spying on somebody. For your information, I will do no such thing. I am not about to compromise my morals for you, or anyone. So let me make myself as clear as I can. If you come down here to try to threaten me again, I will shove this broom up your ass. Now get out of my store, and do not come back.”

“You will regret this, honey.” He poitned atme angrily. I cackled in response.

“No I won’t. Now get out before I get my pepper spray.” I watched as he turned heel and left, making a point to slam the door on his way out. I walked over and flipped the open sign to ‘closed’, and triple checking that the locks were all botled shut. I lowered the shades and sat down at the nearest table. At that point only I slumped into the seat, a large exhale escaping my lips. I could feel tears ready to burst, I couldn’t believe this was hppening. I held my head in my hand atop the table, racking on how I ended up in this situation in the first place.

A sudden know at the door made me jump out of my skin. It was a soft rapping, the shadow clearly wasn’t the one whom had just left; but I didn’t wat to take any chances. I gripped the pepper spray in my apron.

“Hey neighbor, I just wanted to check and see if everything is alright?” Barnes’ voice made me relax, which in itself was odd. At the moment I couldnt care less. I walked up to the door, peering betwen the blinds, finding my neighbor on the other side; more bloody than I saw him this morning.

I quickly unlocked the door and swung it open.

“What happened?!” I aksed, just as the thunder rumbled, and the rain began to deluge.

“It’s nothing.” He grimaced.

“You look like you just got you ass handded to you; how is that nothing?”

A loud expensive looking suv whizzed by, its engine roaring extremely loud. Most like the muffler had been taken off as to why it was unusally loud.

“To be fair the other guy looks worse.” he shrugged.

“Where are you Barnes!” Mr. Local’s voice rang through the streets as the SUV made its way back up the main street. My neighbor paled as he stood drenched in the rain. I rolled my eyes, stepping aside to let him in the shop.

He dashed inside before the car drove past. I flipped off the car, knowing full well it was Rumlow. I closed the door and locked it again, all four of them.

“Why is it every time I see you; you somehow are always beat up?” I asked drying my hands on my apron.

“It’s a gift.” He chuckled, only to regret it by coughing violently.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You don’t need to do that.” He protested.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t know where you live.” I quickly rebutted; “Also, I assume that you probably saw that asshole and his cronies walk in a while ago otherwise you wouldn’t be over here in the first place. Which means you either decided to play vigilante and get your ass kicked or you were just in the wrong place and got your ass kicked.”

“Why is it that you think I am getting my ass kicked?” He cracked a charming smile.

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

“You trying to tell me I’m ugly?”

“You said it, not me.” I gave him a shit-eating grin in response to his deadpan face.

“You’re hilarious.” He said unamused.

“That’s why your buddies bring me around the shop isn’t it?” I hung up my apron, grabbing my purse and keys.

“Yeah well, maybe I’m not apart of that crowd.”

“You trying to use my words against me?” We walked out the back door, I hurriedly locked the back door. We dashed into the bronco, desperate not to get drenched further.

“Perhaps.” He heaved as he sat himself into the passenger seat. I tossed my purse into the back, sticking the keys into the ignition.

“Or is this your polite way of saying I’m not your type?” I backed out of the small lot and onto the road, quickly sticking the gearshift into drive and roaming down the road out of town.

“You said it not me?” He parroted me with a smile. I rolled my eyes, but could not withhold the smile growing upon my own lips.

The putter pattern of the rain felt like it was the sound of a power washer by the silence between us. The only foreign sound was passing vehicles, for my radio had long since been broken.

“This thing work?” My passenger began to fiddle with the said device.

“Nah, gave out after I passed through Kansas.” I flinched as the thunder shook the earth.

“You should drop this off by the shop tomorrow, I’m sure we got a spare lying around somewhere.” He said, turning his head to look out the window. His statement almost made me swerve.

“Why would I do that?” I asked him, gaining control over my composure, thankful that he didn’t catch the slip.

“Cause it’s neighborly,” he shrugged, supporting his chin on his hand.

“Is that you’re excuse for everything?”

“Nah,” he cracked a wide grin; “just you.”

It made my heart lurch. I hated how he could do that so easily. Time I made him feel the same.

“So, neighbor;” I started, “wanna tell me why Steve had a bandage on his face this morning?”

“He ran into a pole.”

“He told me he fell down the stairs,” I replied quickly, having his tense reaction. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he gnawed on his plump bottom lip.

“Fine, you caught us. We run a fight club. But now that I just broke the first rule; I’m gonna have to kill you over it.” He said with a serious expression.

“You broke a rule, that’ll cost you honey....”

“P-please, stop,”

In a gut reaction I slammed on the brakes; making his head hit my dashboard. Luckily we were on our street, so there was no immediate traffic to either make the situation worse, or honk at me till kingdom come.

I held onto the steering wheel with a vice grip. My breathing quickened, becoming more shallow. I could feel my thoughts racing a mile a minute, with the wrong kind of memories spewing back and forth.

“Hey! Hey! I was kidding!!” Barnes’ voice was slowly becoming muffled. A far more foul voice was echoing in my head.

It wasn’t until I felt a soft touch upon my hand I was drawn out of my train of thought. I looked over to see the extremely concerned face of my neighbor. My handsome neighbor.

“I was kidding; I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, (Y/N),” he said with wide eyes. Those blue eyes, one I was so afraid of; were nothing but soft when he locked his gaze with mine.

“I won’t do it again,” the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. I felt his thumb rub the back of my hand. I took a deep breath.

“Look, I’ll just go. I know I took it too far, goodnight (Y/N),” he opened the door and exited the vehicle in the pouring rain.

“It’s not your fault,” I spoke before he could close the door.

“What?”

“It’s not your fault.” I looked up at him, giving a sad smile; “I’m just a little, tense, is all.”

“Well, I hope you won’t have to feel tense around me. You know where to find me if you ever wanna talk about it. Goodnight (Y/N), thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime, Neighbor.”

“It’s Bucky,” he corrected with a kind smile.

“Right, Bucky.” I nodded in approval, before chuckling.

“What?” He scoffed.

“Sounds like a sexual euphemism.” I snorted, watching as his face turned beat red.

“It’s definitely not that!!” I burst out laughing at his childish reaction. He slammed the door and marched into his house.

“Hey! You should come over tomorrow!” He hollered across the street. I rolled my eyes, a wide smile on my lips as I walked through my front door.

#biker!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #beefy bucky #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine

[starlessskies94]

The Nurse (Negan/BlakeAU) Part 10

Masterlist

Negan’s head was spinning, a force so strong it caused a dull pain in the base of his skull. Blake was alive. She was here in his arms and he had no intention of letting her go again. He didn’t know how it was possible and if he was honest he didn’t care.

He’d wanted to kiss her. Felt as though he should have. But he didn’t know if it would push their relationship too far forward to early...

Instead he held her. His dumbstruck state taking him a while to wear away as she gently pulled back and cupped her hands around his face.

“Shit Peaches, I thought you were-“

“I know. Listen, I’m getting you out of here. Rick knew everything; it was his way punishing me I think and it won’t be long before he figures out everything else I’ve done. We have to leave the Hilltop.”

He was struck by the determination in her voice. This was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And now she was doing something about it. It was one of the many thinks he loved about her. Quickly lacing up his boots; he followed her up the stairs. The door flying open as the pair made their way around the edge of the house towards the large gates ahead.

Blake flinched at the sudden contact of Negan pulling her back towards the wall, both inching round the corner to see an armed settler pacing the area by the gardens.

“Shit...”

The blonde’s face was blank as she wordlessly handed the ex-saviour her pocketknife. Should the worst happen; he knew what she was telling him. Go without me.

There was no fucking way that was happening but he took the weapon regardless; more for the prospect of protecting her. The armed guard strode back to the gate to join with the skeleton crew left to watch the entrance while others ate and prepared to settle down for the night.

Negan gripped Blake’s upper arm; grabbing her attention. A sombre look glazing in his eyes.

“Well I hate to tell ya this Peaches, but if we’re gonna get outta here...we’re gonna have to take out these guys.”

“Hold on. Those men don’t have to die Negan. Just wait here...I have an idea.”

He knew she wanted to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. And he could understand that. After she’d explained her plan he could see that she was angry at Rick. Not his people and if she could keep as many of them from getting hurt from this as she could; she would.

He watched her from the sidelines, all the while keeping out of sight. A sweet smile worn across her beautiful face as she casually strolled up to the gate.

“Hey Tommy.”

“Hey Blake... how’d the run go yesterday?”

He noticed her smile falter just a little at the unexpected question, clenching his fists as he willed her to keep her cool.

Come on, Peaches. Just play along...

“The run? Oh yeah... pretty good actually. Managed to get a couple more painkillers...and a few other things too.”

Atta girl. This ‘Tommy’ she was talking to looked no older than 18, 19. Obviously trying to prove himself by taking an armed role in the community. Though Negan doubted if the kid would even know how to use the damn thing. And as much as he disliked the way the little punk was looking at Blake; he could plainly see that the blonde was using it to her advantage.

“Sounds good...so what are doing out this late?”

“Taking the night shift actually. I signed up for the next patrol. Couldn’t sleep; figured I’d make myself useful. You guys wanna hide inside early? Get a drink and a bite to eat? The other guys will be up soon. Just taking a smoking break.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked around Blake.

“You didn’t go with them?”

Negan wasn’t sure if the kid suspected anything so it was hard to gauge if he was trying to catch her out with his questions. Still the lady didn’t slip up once; a condescending look darkening her features as she crossed her arms.

“I’m a nurse Thomas, do you really think I’d endorse that kind of thing?”

“Right of course sorry...well you heard the lady. Let’s get some grub I’m starving.”

The young lad scuttled away with the other men; a blush of embarrassment flushing his face like he’d just been scolded by his mother. Negan waited till the group disappeared inside the house leaving Blake stood alone.

She turned at the sound of his approaching steps; a cheshire cat like grin spreading across his face as he drew his hands together in a slow drawn out applause.

“Goddamn sweetheart, you sure you’re a nurse and not a Hollywood actress? Because that performance was fucking gold.”

She simply smiled in return, shrugging her shoulders and looking back in the direction of the house.

“I don’t think it has much to do with my acting skills and more to do with Tommy being so gullible. Poor guy.”

“Ah to hell with him Peaches, we gotta get goin’ before they come back.”

 The dark clouds rumbled overhead, the promise of rain hanging in the air. The wind picking up; whipping through the tree line of the forest’s edge.

Negan and Blake continued walking until they finally reached the car. Negan glancing into the backside before sending another signature smirk the blonde’s way.

“Well holy shit darlin’! You have been a busy bee…you steal all this shit from Rick?”

“I didn’t take anything he’d miss and the car I took from the Saviour’s Outpost; so technically it’s yours.”

He laughed as she threw him the keys, catching them with little effort. Blake waited quietly in the passenger seat as he checked through the bag of clothes she’d packed. He didn’t even bother asking how she’d managed to get hold of his, now cleaned and freshly folded. He quickly changed into his grey trousers, white shirt and opted for a dark grey jacket instead of trademark leather one. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Blake. Hopping out of the car and strolling around to his side.

“Something wrong with the jacket?”

“Nope…just…not who I am anymore Peaches.”

He saw something change in Blake’s eyes that he couldn’t place for a second. Pity? Relief? He couldn’t tell but he’d meant what he said. That wasn’t who he was anymore. He’d changed and whether that was for the better he couldn’t quite tell yet. But in a strange way it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Glancing back at the black leather jacket he saw an old life. And old him. It was time to move on.

“You know what…here, you take it.”

Blake froze as he draped the jacket over her shoulders, meeting his eyes for a split second before sliding her arms into the sleeves and smiling up at him.

“Maybe it’ll do you more good, than it did me.”

“So does this mean I get to swing a bat and call all the shots now?”

He couldn’t hold back his laugh at her words, the playful smirk lighting up her face. God he’d missed her. Missed this. His smirk never faded as they both climbed in the front of the car, Negan starting the engine and glancing over at her.

“Nope, you gotta work your way up first Peaches. And we should get going before Rick and merry band of pricks decide to follow.”

As he pulled away and began heading down the dusty road; he couldn’t believe his luck. After everything, all the shit that had been thrown his way. All the darkness that seemed to be swallowing him whole, he was free. He was finally free, away from Rick the prick and more importantly…he was with his girl and no matter when came next, that wasn’t going to change.

This is dedicated to the awesome and lovely @neganandblake Hope you enjoy this chapter <3 xx

#NeganandblakeAU #neganandblake #ThenurseAU #neganedit #walking dead negan #writing

[antoine-roquentin]

In November, Gorsuch delivered the keynote address at the Federalist Society’s annual black-tie dinner, which took place in Washington’s Union Station. Among the conservative VIPs in attendance were Jeff Sessions and Scott Pruitt, Republican senators Ben Sasse and John Cornyn — who would later have Gorsuch to his home for dinner — and Justice Alito. Gorsuch warmed up the room, like a hype man for himself. “Tonight I can report: A person can be both a publicly committed originalist and textualist and be confirmed to the Supreme Court!” And: “Originalism has regained its place, and textualism has triumphed, and neither is going anywhere on my watch!”

Gorsuch was right to note the remarkable rise of these ideas since the Federalist Society’s founding in 1982. Robert Bork, a famously disastrous Supreme Court nominee, was laughed out of his confirmation hearing in 1987 for suggesting the Constitution should be read as it was in the 1780s. Thirty years later, there’s nothing more basic than a conservative judge who swears by the original intent of the Framers. According to one study, the incidence of the word originalism in law-review articles has risen from 15 between 1980 and 1984 to 2,351 between 2010 and 2014.

And yet, Gorsuch complained, his work was still being maligned by liberal elites. He began to call out his haters. “Some pundits have expressed bewilderment that I ask questions at oral argument about the text of our statutes,” he said. “I want to take a poll. I want to know what you think. Should I keep talking about the text and original meaning of the Constitution?” This was like asking Skynyrd fans if they wanted to hear “Free Bird.” A few minutes later, he brought up a critical article from the Harvard Law Review, referring obliquely to “some folks up in Cambridge,” as if he hadn’t once been one of them. “Does anyone else find it curious that daring to ask questions about the status quo is apparently illegitimate, while defending the status quo seems just fine?” Pause for claps. “Oh, well. I think we should just go ahead and ask the questions anyway. Whaddaya say?”

Tonally, the speech seemed a tad … aggressive. “It could have used a little bit of, I don’t know, self-deprecating humor,” says one Federalist Society member who attended. But if the evening felt at times like a campaign rally, that was by design. The point of the Federalist Society is to make room for conservative jurisprudence — and that means, in part, finding ways for right-wing judges to let their hair down. (No transcript of Gorsuch’s speech was made available, but I obtained a recording from someone who attended.) There is a concept known as judicial drift — or “the Greenhouse effect,” after the Times writer. “You get these good conservative justices, they move to D.C., they get on the Court, D.C. is a liberal area, the media is liberal, they want approval, start tempering their conservatism, and drift to the left,” explains Amanda Hollis-Brusky, a Pomona College political scientist. “What the Federalist Society has done has created a competing judicial audience, so these justices and judges don’t need to seek the applause of the liberal, Establishment media.” If they stay true to this constituency, they get celebrated, invited to more conferences. If they go off the reservation, they get roasted. Which helps explain why Roberts fled to Malta for two weeks — “It’s an impregnable fortress island,” he joked — after upholding Obamacare’s individual mandate in 2012.

In the same way that tea-party — and now Trumpian — politics have become indistinguishable from mainstream Republicanism, the Federalist Society has come to occupy the dead center of conservative judicial thought. The paradigm shift started in 2005, when George W. Bush nominated his friend Harriet Miers, the White House counsel, to the Supreme Court. Conservatives had already been burned when Bush’s father nominated the moderate liberal David Souter, who was friendly with the White House chief of staff. The Federalists revolted, Bush pulled the Miers nomination, and he nominated the far-right Alito instead. When it came time to choose Scalia’s successor, no revolt was necessary. “Because of the force of the Federalist Society,” Hollis-Brusky says, “Trump was just taking orders.”

The infrastructure built up by the Federalist Society — and the Heritage Foundation, and the Judicial Crisis Network — is designed not just to breed elite conservative lawyers but elite conservative lawyers in the flame-throwing mold of Scalia. “One of [Scalia’s] functions was to provide a line for the larger conservative community to latch on to both in oral arguments and in opinions,” says University of Baltimore Law School professor Garrett Epps. “He was always very sure to dominate the op-eds with something and go way over the edge.” While his caustic dissents alienated colleagues — and may have undermined his own influence on the Court — they became, over time, a canonical body of work around which the conservative legal movement would rally. Among the conservative justices, Roberts and Kennedy now occupy the ideological center of the Court; Thomas and Alito, while reliably right wing, aren’t rock stars. That leaves Gorsuch — and Gorsuch knows it.

A few weeks before his Federalist Society speech, Gorsuch heard a case with major political implications. The justices would rule on the electoral maps Wisconsin Republicans were accused of gerrymandering for partisan gain. Gorsuch’s seat is located on the far side of the Supreme Court bench, next to Sonia Sotomayor’s. It is not a young court, and Gorsuch’s fresh-scrubbed look stands out. Ginsburg is visible mainly from the scrunchie that peeks out over her seat. Thomas reclines at impossibly low angles and often appears unconscious. Gorsuch, eyes wide, hair gelled, has the bearing of a man who sleeps well at night.

Toward the end of the case, Gorsuch jumped in to grill Paul Smith, the lawyer arguing against Wisconsin’s maps, implying the Court had little business getting involved at all. “Maybe we can just for a second talk about the arcane matter of the Constitution,” he tut-tutted. “Where exactly do we get the authority to revise state legislative lines?” A moment later, Ginsburg piped up with a sharp rejoinder: “Where did ‘one person, one vote’ come from?” (Answer: the 14th Amendment.) Gorsuch then tried again. “Do you see any impediment to Congress acting in this area?” he asked Smith. “Other than the fact that politicians are never going to fix gerrymandering?” Smith replied. “They like gerrymandering.” The audience in the gallery cracked up, and Gorsuch stopped talking. “It was ‘Welcome to the NFL, rookie,’ ” says Epps. “My 1Ls could answer that.”

This mirrored an immigration case that took place the day before. “I look at the text of the Constitution — always a good place to start — and the Due Process Clause speaks of the loss of life, liberty, or property,” he intoned. “When the law runs out and the judges cannot say what the law is, they don’t make it up. Right?” And that in turn echoed a moment from his very first oral argument, when he asked a lawyer if they could explore “the plain words of the statute” together. When the lawyer replied that he wasn’t asking the Court to break new ground in interpreting the law in question, Gorsuch interjected, “No, just to continue to make it up.”

Delivering civics lessons from the bench has turned out to be Gorsuch’s signature move. “He showed up and started speaking a lot at arguments and, quite frankly, said a number of condescending and stupid things to his colleagues,” says a recent Supreme Court clerk. Compared to Scalia, who terrorized lawyers during oral arguments, Gorsuch is mild. But if Scalia’s defining trait was snark, Gorsuch’s might be smarm. Take his habit of asking lawyers to “help” him with some aspect of a case he evidently finds obvious. He’s done this in 15 different cases.

Behind the shtick, Gorsuch is performing a conservative virtue signal. In his 2016 paean to Scalia, Gorsuch called for judges “to apply the law as it is,” not to decide cases based on “moral convictions” or “policy consequences.” In theory, this gets to the heart of his predecessor’s narrow jurisprudence. In practice, it can be difficult to argue, credibly, that the answer to every single Court case is obvious from the words of a statute, or the Constitution, or the thesaurus, or whatever. Gorsuch doesn’t have Scalia’s dexterity. “It’s almost like a kid trying on his dad’s suit, and it’s just too big for him,” says David Lat, the founder of the legal website Above the Law. Or as Rick Hasen, a professor at UC Irvine’s law school, puts it, “He’s Scalia without the spontaneous wit and charm.”

The textualist monomania seems to grate especially on Ginsburg, who was famously close with Scalia. In January, after a Gorsuch dissent called out the “absurdities” of her reasoning in an otherwise deadly case about legal filing deadlines, she cheekily responded in a footnote, writing that Gorsuch’s tendentious reading of the case “conjures up absurdities” of its own. In April, she wrote a terse one-paragraph dissent critiquing Gorsuch’s “wooden” reading of a law, and in her blistering dissent in May’s big workers-rights case, she called his opinion “egregiously wrong,” invoking the infamous 1905 anti-labor decision Lochner v. New York.

The pro-Gorsuch crowd thinks the anti-Gorsuch crowd is being hysterical. “He seems to trigger a very intense reaction on the left,” says National Review legal writer Ed Whelan. “I don’t think it’s easily explicable by objective fact. Our president can disrupt and derange people in a lot of ways. I think a lot of people are deflecting their hostility toward Trump onto Gorsuch.”

Perhaps. But talk of intra-Court feuding doesn’t seem outlandish. Last fall, veteran CNN Court correspondent Joan Biskupic reported on an emerging rift between Roberts and Gorsuch. Later, NPR’s Totenberg said it was Justice Elena Kagan who was taking Gorsuch to task in the justices’ twice-weekly conferences. “With Elena Kagan and the chief justice, you have this sense that they’re playing the long game,” says Amy Howe, a Supreme Court beat reporter who publishes on Scotusblog. Both dissent less frequently than their colleagues and strive behind the scenes for consensus.

And yet the Court has published opinions this term at a historically sluggish pace. Some speculate that’s because Kennedy is flagging and will soon retire. But it might also be because an intransigent Gorsuch is gumming up the works. Like a gunner in a 1L lecture hall, Gorsuch strives to make himself heard. In his first 30 cases, Gorsuch dissented six times; Roberts, by comparison, dissented once. (“Media speculation suggesting Justice Gorsuch isn’t getting along with his colleagues is ridiculous,” says Jamil Jaffer, who clerked for Gorsuch last term. “Of course, the justices are going to disagree on the law, but it never gets personal.”)

[sanders-specs]

Camp Swan Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter was...weirdly easy to write. I guess it was one of those things where the characters were controlling me more than I was controlling them. *shrugs* I dunno, but I hope you enjoy and that you had a good week :) 

Warnings: panic attack, swearing, bullying, arguing 

Part 1| Previous

Read on Ao3

Tag list:  @princeyssash @alwaysmy-lilith @protecterofalltheaus @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @kittenvirgil

How did he get in this situation?

The question circled around Virgil’s head the entire day. He didn’t know what he did or said, but it seemed that whatever group you end up with during the first activity for the day is the group you stay with for the rest of the day. Either that, or the girls and Travis felt that bad for him.

After leaving archery, Virgil was prepared to disappear into the back of the group, as he’d done on the walk over, but Cassie had looked back at him and motioned for him to join her, Alyssa, and Travis.

“No one’s left behind,” Cassie says at Virgil’s bewildered look.

“I mean, if you’d rather be alone that’s fine,” Alyssa says, though not in a condescending way, but as if she understood if he genuinely wanted to be left alone. “We won’t be offended.”

Virgil frowned, but before he could answer, Thomas was calling after them, telling them to hurry up. Feeling as if he hadn’t been left much of a choice, he followed the group to their next activity. He’d expected them to leave him, since it was arts and crafts and they pretty much had free reign over the place, but they invited him to sit with them, talk with them.

When they moved to rock climbing, the three of them immediately started putting on gear, handing Virgil the right stuff. When a counselor asked who would be in their group, Cassie listed all of them including Virgil off without seemingly a second thought.

It was…odd. To be accepted into a group so easily. He was suspicious of them. Did they pity him for being Franks punching bag (which hadn’t stopped all day)? His teasing had been less noticeable to the counselors, though, so maybe they hadn’t noticed. Virgil still had purple glitter glue in his hair from arts and crafts. He didn’t want to admit that he kind of liked the look it.

He didn’t really know what to think as he was strapped into a harness for his turn on the wall.

“Of course I’m the best at this,” he heard Roman boast from beside him.

“Oh yeah?” Cassie calls. “I don’t know, you’re looking a bit less fit this year. Did you slack off over the fall, Roman?”

Virgil smirked at that, glancing over at Princey, who looked rather offended. “I did not! I could easily beat out Virgil here, at least.”

Okay, that was not expected. Virgil looked up from where Thomas was helping him with the harness. His counselor straightened, looking as if he were trying not to smile. He caught Virgil’s eye and nodded to the wall before moving to Alyssa.

Virgil approached the wall, bracing himself, glancing back over to Roman. Couldn’t beat Virgil huh? Well that sounded like a challenge if Virgil had ever heard one.

Looking up at the wall, Virgil weighed his chances. He wasn’t out of shape, exactly—though he had spent a lot of time in his room, he also rather enjoyed exercise when he was feeling particularly anxious and his parents did have a nice set of equipment free to use—so he wasn’t worried about his strength. He just hoped that the equipment…

“Are you just going to stand around all day Virge?” Alyssa voice cuts in.

Virgil blinks and glances back at her. She was smiling, as if trying to tell him that she’d just been teasing and that she wasn’t actually annoyed.

Still, though, Virgil couldn’t help but scowl at himself. There were other people around, and they had better things to do other than wait around for Virgil. Hastily, he grabbed the pegs and started climbing. He couldn’t help but notice that Roman already had a good foot on him, but it didn’t take long for Virgil to catch up.

When Roman looked over and saw Virgil, he frowned. Virgil only smirked in response and kept climbing, surpassing Roman altogether.

“Wow, look at him go!” Rose exclaims, talking for once not about her brother, but about Virgil.

Logan and Patton stared up as well. It seemed that Virgil did have his strengths.

“You’re doing great Virge!” Cassie calls up.

“Since when does she get to call him that?” Patton mutters to Logan.

Logan shrugs, still watching the now race that was going on between their two roommates. “They have seemed to have brought Virgil into their circle of friends.”

“But what did they do right that we did wrong?” Patton asks as he looks back at Virgil, who was still outpacing Roman.

“Perhaps he prefers the company of women,” Logan says. “It’s not uncommon for some boys, you know.”

“Well he doesn’t seem to mind Travis either,” Patton pointed out, glancing at the other boy who was watching the race with amused eyes.

Logan sighs. “I do not know, Patton.” It sounded like he didn’t care either, which would be the only reason Logan would ever admit to not knowing anything. “Shouldn’t you be happy that he at least found a group?”

“I guess…” Patton’s voice trailed off as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw Frank moving towards Virgil, climbing faster and faster. Patton frowned and glanced around at the counselors and instructors. They were all busy helping some newer or younger kids, since they were sharing the gym with a few younger campers. No one else seemed to notice the other boy headed for Virgil, everyone seeming either focused on the race or on their own climbing.

Not really knowing what else to do, Patton started to call out, but it was too late. Frank had reached him and had ram into him, just as Virgil had beaten Roman to the top.

Virgil felt exhilarated. He hadn’t pushed himself like that in a long time, and though he knew his body was going to hate him for it later, he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips as he reached the top of the wall, Roman still a good bit below him.

The smile lasted until someone slammed into him, pushing him against the wall and making the pegs dig into him.

“Watch where you’re climbing, emo freak,” Franks voice hissed in his ear, shoving him against the wall again.

Squirming, Virgil managed to elbow the other boy away from him. He didn’t bother with any kind of retort, but at that moment Virgil realized just how high up he was, with little support, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe very well.

“Like it up here huh?” Frank asks, edging closer.        

Virgil couldn’t say anything. He was frozen where he was. He couldn’t move.

“You better make way for others, freak,” Frank says, attempting to push him. “It’s rude to hog the wall.”

Virgil barely registered his voice. His breathing was coming out in pants, his entire body cramping up. He felt the harness he was wearing dig into his gut, and the strap on his helmet felt like it was choking him.

“Virgil?” Someone placed their hand on Virgil’s shoulder, making him jump so hard he let go of the wall. Panicking, he scrambled to grab hold of the pegs again, but he’d thrown himself too far to get a good grip. He fell until he hit the mat twenty feet below.

For a moment, he was too dazed to notice anything. Then people started crowding around him and he scrambled to sit up.

“Oh my God, Virgil are you okay?” it was Cassie, kneeling beside him, a worried look on her face.

He wasn’t. God, he couldn’t breathe. He felt like the harness and the helmet were strangling him. He started clawing at it, wanting it desperately to be off of him, but he didn’t know how it worked. Oh why hadn’t he paid more attention when Thomas was putting it on him? Why had he’d been so fixed on Roman’s stupid boasting?

“Virgil, Virgil, I need you to breathe for me.” This was Alyssa. She knelt on his other side. “Okay, now I’m going to reach over and take your helmet off,” she says, slowly and deliberately. Virgil could only nod, though he flinched when she moved closer. She hesitated a moment, but then reached further when he didn’t move again. Once the helmet was off, he felt a bit better, but not by much.

“Okay, good,” Alyssa says, setting his helmet to the side. “Thomas is on his way to help you out of the harness okay? We’re not allowed to mess with them. Just close your eyes and try to focus on something else. The feel of the mat, the sounds of the gym, your breathing.”

“In for four, hold for seven, out for eight,” Cassie prompts after a few moments of Virgil trying and failing to get his breathing under control.

It wasn’t working it wasn’t working it wasn’t working. The harness felt like a cage and it bit into his skin and made his breathing feel even more restricted. Distantly he could hear his breath wheezing out, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“What’s happening? Is he okay?” this was Roman’s voice. He must have finally made it back to the ground.

“Look at that, the sissy can’t even take a dumb fall,” he heard Frank say with a laugh. Virgil could hear other laughter echoing him, and suddenly he could feel the pressure of all of the eyes that were on him. He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears the leaked out.

“Shut the hell up Frank,” Travis said, sounding angry.

“Or what, pretty boy?”

Nononononnononono he couldn’t stand the anger, the tension.

“Virgil, honey, listen to me.” This was Cassie again. “You’re alright, everything’s alright.”

“Thomas!” Alyssa exclaimed with some relief in her voice.

Oh god why can’t I breathe? Breathebreathebreathebreathe you idiot breathe!

“What happened?” Thomas asks, though his voice sounded far away.

“He fell,” Patton’s voice said.

“It seemed that he was being harassed by Frank,” Logan says. “I believe that he started having a panic attack while up there and when Roman tried to help him, it had the opposite effect and made Virgil let go of the pegs.”

“Why didn’t the harness slow him down?” Thomas muttered. Then, more clearly he said, “Alright, Virgil I’m going to get you out of the harness okay? Then we’ll get you someplace quiet.”

Thenoisethenoisethnoise. It was too much. The harness was too much. He couldn’t breathe he couldn’t think. He needed to breathe but his body wouldn’t let him. He tried but his lung stopped halfway through a breath. He needed air he needed air heneededair…

“Got it,” Thomas says, pulling the harness off of him. “Virgil, can you stand? Can you walk?”  

He didn’t think so, but it seemed that his body was responding as it usually did. He got up and stumbled towards the exit, nearly knocking over a few younger campers along the way. His head was spinning and he felt dizzy, but all he could focus on was getting out. He heard Thomas and a few other counselors shouting after him, but he ignored him. He needed out. He just needed to get out.

Thomas found Virgil hunched over behind the gym. He had his hands over his ears and he was sobbing into his knees. Thomas felt his heart go out to the kid. No way could that situation have been easy.

Slowly, he walked over, being sure to make some kind of sound so as not to startle him. Virgil looked up, then away the moment their eyes met.

“Virgil,” Thomas says gently. “Hey bud it’s okay. You’re not in trouble for running out. There might be a little tyke or two you might need to apologize to, but that’s fine.”

Virgil kept his eyes downcast. He seemed to have gotten his breathing under control, but he didn’t seem quite fine just yet. Thomas sat next to him. “I brought you these.” He handed Virgil his headphones and fidget cube, both of which he’d had to take off because of the harness and the threat of the headphones falling off while he was climbing.

Virgil glanced at them, but didn’t make a move to take them. He seemed too exhausted. Thomas set them down beside Virgil, so he’d have easy access to them whenever he could move again.

“You know,” Thomas says, “panic attacks aren’t something you should be embarrassed about. Heightened anxiety is…hard to deal with, but it’s not uncommon. I deal with it a lot, so does Talyn, the counselor helping you at archery? And one of the heads of camp, Joan. They spoke at the opening assembly, remember? We know what it’s like, for us anyway. So you don’t have to feel like you’re alone on this or that you can’t ask for help.”

“I’m a freak.”

Thomas looked over at Virgil, who was still crying. “I’m an utter freak.”

“No you’re not,” Thomas says, but stopped when Virgil turned a glare on him.

“Oh yeah? How do you know? You don’t even know me!”

Thomas sat quietly for a moment, then leaned his head back against the wall. “No, I don’t,” he admits, “but you know, we’re all freaks in our own way. I consume way more pizza than the human body is ever meant to consume. I also have an entire rap I learned as a child still memorized and sometimes rap it when I’m alone. We all have weird quirks, but those are the best parts about us.”

Virgil was silent at that, though he’d stopped crying, at least. Thomas checks his watch, then does a mental calculation of the rest of the day.

“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “I’m in no way obligated to make you suffer through the rest of the day, especially if you’re not feeling up for it. The rest of the afternoon is just free time anyway. I can leave the others with Jena or Tayln and walk you back to the cabin. I can get back before rock climbing’s over to make sure that everyone is accounted for. Sound good?”

Slowly, Virgil nodded. Thomas stood, looking down at him. “Do you think you can make it to the cabin?”

Again, Virgil just nodded, scooped up his headphones and fidget cube before pushing himself to his feet. He was shaky, but seemed okay. They walked slowly, mostly to make sure that Virgil didn’t accidently pass out.

When they made it to the cabin, Thomas made sure that Virgil was situated and had a bottle of water before heading back to the gym.

Virgil spent the rest of the day wallowing away in his room. He heard the others coming back after rock climbing, but he’d pretended to be asleep in order to avoid talking with them. he didn’t open his eyes again until the room was utterly quiet.

As the light started to fade and the dinner bell rang, Virgil tried to find the energy to get out of bed. But frankly he was aching and exhausted, so he opted to skip out again. Going into the mess hall would probably do more harm than good anyway.

When he heard the door to the cabin open and Patton’s excited voice, he tried ot pretend to sleep again. However the others, it seemed, weren’t having it this time.

“Virgil?” Patton asks, gently shaking him. “Virge, wake up kiddo.”

Groaning, Virgil opened his eyes and glared at the other boy, who backed away immediately. “What do you want?” Virgil muttered.

“You skipped dinner again,” Logan says. “Considering the day you’ve had, that would be ill advisable.”

“Why do you care?” Virgil snaps.

“Well we do want you to take care of yourself…” Patton started, but his voice trailed off when Virgil sat up and glared at him.

“Really? Because earlier it didn’t seem like you cared much about me at all.”

For a moment, the room was silent. His roommates glanced around at each other, confused. “What are you talking about?” Roman asks.

“I didn’t see that asshole coming towards me!” Virgil exclaims, the anger he hadn’t even realized was there bubbling up. “One of you two could have shouted a warning,” he said to Logan and Patton. “And you,” he turned to Roman, “are the one who made me fall in the first place!”

“Now hold on,” Roman says, scowling. “I tried to help you! I saw that you were frozen, and I tried to get your attention. It’s not my fault you’re a scaredy cat!”

Virgil felt his face heat up.

“Ah, Roman maybe that isn’t…” Patton started, but Virgil cut him off.

“Oh, right, because it was my fault I was getting harassed!” Virgil let out a humorless laugh. “Of course it was! I’m just the sad little newbie who is just an easy target, is that it? I don’t deserve anyone’s acceptance or kindness! I never have and never will!”

“Virgil—”

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” Virgil says, shaking his head. He turns and grabs his phone and headphones. “I don’t want your pathetic excuses. You obviously just enjoy watching me get hurt and suffer. Don’t worry, you’re not the only ones.”

With that he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Virgil only went back to the room when Terry told him that it was lights out and he needed to go to bed. Thankfully, though, the other three were already asleep. Virgil stood in the center of the room, taking them all in.

Roman was lying on his back, a sleep mask over his eyes. His mouth was hanging open and he had a white teddy bear with a red sash tucked against his side (where he’d been hiding that, Virgil had no clue).

Patton was curled into a ball, surrounded by all of his plushies. He was hugging a brown teddy bear in a Steven Universe t-shirt to his chest, his blanket tucked around both of them. he seemed to be in as deep a sleep as Roman.

Logan, though, was sleeping on his back, his hands folded neatly over his stomach. he looked like a dead body in a coffin, though a dead body would not be making the atrocious sounds Logan was making right now. Virgil had no idea how he’d slept through it the night before. Hell, he didn’t know how Roman and Patton were sleeping through it right now.

Shaking his head Virgil headed for the window. Camp rules be damned. He could not stay in this room tonight. Not with the knowledge of all the things he’d said to them earlier. Definitely not with that snoring.

So he opened the window and climbed out, headed towards the woods behind the cabin.

Chapter 7

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #fanfiction #camp swan #my fic #panic attack #swearing #bullying #arguing

[randomfandomimagine]

Almost (Thomas x Reader)

Character: Thomas

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader

Title: Almost

  Requested by anon:

Hi, can I please request an imagine similar to the one you wrote with Minho where he gets struck by lightening in the film, but could you possibly make it instead with Thomas where y/n gets struck by lightning instead and everyone mainly Thomas newt and Minho get super worried for like 5 minutes and think she's actually dead? Could you just like draw it out and have them really stressed out cos she's super weak from stress of the scorch? Sorrrrry if this is weird I just love your writing... x

  A/N: If any of you are interested in the imagine I wrote about Minho, which is similar to this, it’s called ‘Smoking Hot’ ;)

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Because we all knew that I was the weakest of the group, the one that always needed help. Newt told me there was nothing wrong with needing help and that I shouldn’t be ashamed to let them help me. But he had said that to cheer me up, because Newt was always nice.

They didn’t mind me being weaker, they considered me a little sister and enjoyed taking care of me. But I was fed up, I just wanted to be like Teresa: strong, determined.

So when we arrived in the Scorch and we had to bear those ridiculously high temperatures and the damn bright sun burning our skins… It wasn’t good for me.

I was stressed, irritable and weak. Which made me be even angrier.

“How are you holding up, Y/N?” Thomas worried as he walked next to me.

“Fine” I angrily replied, even though my bitterness wasn’t directed towards him.

I was bitter toward the world. A world that had brought us there, a world that had gone to klunk and where everything was wrong. A world were my friends and I had to fight to survive and even when we escaped that awful Maze we weren’t free yet.

“Keep it up, you’re doing great” He fondly patted my back, trying to encourage me.

Out of everyone, Thomas had been the one to keep his eyes on me the most. Even if I noticed Newt threw sneaky glances at me and Minho checked on me every now and then. But Thomas was walking next to me and wouldn’t leave me off his sight.

“Are we there yet?” I avoided Thomas’ glare, asking anyone who could answer.

“Almost” Newt replied, looking over his shoulder to me.

The blond dedicated me one of his friendly grins. But unlike in the Maze, when it brightened my day, this time it didn’t help. It just reminded me of everything that was wrong with the world.

“Hang it there” Thomas placed an arm around my waist, which was just enough for me.

I knew he was trying to help, but I was fed up with their condescending behavior. I hated that they believed I was weak, and overall since they were right. But I was tired of being weak, I would pull through it.

I wanted to show them, to let them know how strong I could be. So I just pushed Thomas away.

To be honest, it felt like the blood was boiling inside my veins. Like an uncontrollable anger was taking over me and all I could do was wait until it stopped.

“I’ve had enough of this!” I shouted at him, taking it all on the person that deserved it less. “Stop treating me like I’m useless, Thomas!”

“You look tired, I just wanted to help you-“ My friend tried to defend himself, but I wasn’t done venting.

“Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t be as strong as you boys, and just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m worthless!”

“Hey, no one ever said that, Y/N…” Winston tried to soothe my fury, but it was no use.

“Stop looking at me like that, all of you!” I felt how my hands were shaking due to my outburst, I just wished I could put an end to it.

“Oi” Newt walked closer to me and observed me sternly, gravely. “Easy, love, we’re just trying to help”

“Yeah, don’t be a slinthead” Minho observed me, outraged.

Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I felt the urge to cry. I just looked down and heaved a few deep breaths until I managed to calm myself down.

“I’m sorry” I lowly said, barely having the strength to speak anymore. “I’m so stressed and so done with everything…”

“Well, I want to punch something” Minho began to say, nudging me in what I thought it was a friendly gesture. “But you don’t see me beating the klunk out of anyone. So take it easy, shuck face!”

“It’s alright, Y/N” Newt rubbed my arm kindly. “We’re all bloody exhausted”

I looked up slightly, just enough to glance at them. As soon as my eyes fell on Thomas, I needed to avert them again.

“I just need a moment” I told them, still looking down at the sand of the Scorch.

All of my friends began to walk, giving me the privacy I needed. I began to sob as silently as I could, ashamed that they might hear. I needed to have a cry, then I promised myself I would sober up.

“You okay?” Thomas’ voice came, being him the only one who stood behind.

Afraid that my voice would give me away, I just nodded. Only then did he walk away.

I took my time to cry a little, let all that pent up anger and sadness out and stop bottling it. As soon as I felt better, I caught up with them.

*

I was seriously fed up, I was losing hope and I didn’t even want to keep going anymore. I had lost any motivation to continue our journey, I forced myself to move because that way I had something to do, but I walked by inertia.

“How are you doing?” Thomas had been walking beside me all the time.

At least I was grateful because my friends were looking after me, it didn’t make me feel weak anymore. It reminded me of the fact that they could be my strength.

Everyone kept an eye on me: throwing glances in my direction every now and then, asking if I was doing okay and if I needed any help since I was definitely the one that wasn’t exactly holding up the best.

Thomas, on the other hand, never left my side. Since the beginning of our long, arduous and never ending journey, he was there right by me.

He was there, supporting me and giving me strength when I thought I didn’t have any left.

I didn’t really have the energy to reply, so I just shrugged. I knew that simple gesture would be more than enough to answer his question anyway.

I glanced at him, analyzing the look in his eyes. It saddened me.

I realized what he was thinking. He felt bad because he had known me in the Maze, he knew how carefree and such a chatterbox I was despite all we endured, despite all our obstacles. So it probably hurt him to see me like this.

“Just a little longer, Y/N” His voice was serious and neutral, his face had no trace of a smile yet he somehow managed to comfort me slightly. “We’re almost to that warehouse”

Indeed, we could see a warehouse in the distance. Even though it wasn’t the coziest of places and didn’t look very welcoming, it was our only shelter in the middle of the vast nowhere that was the Scorch.

Seeing as it didn’t necessarily cheer me up, Thomas did something I would have never expected him to do. He held my hand.

His rough but sweet touch felt extremely reassuring and uplifting. So I thanked him by smiling a little and squeezing his hand to tighten the grip a little.

I decided to lead him on and let out a bit of a playful joke to lighten the mood for once.

“This can’t get any worse, can it?” I should have known I was tempting fate, because jut as I was uttering the last word, a very loud thunder broke out in the sky.

“A storm…” Thomas observed.

“Not just any storm” Newt told us, motioning for us to hurry.

It was a very violent and loud storm that made us cringe in fear every time lightning hit ground.

“Run!” Someone in our group yelled, and even though we didn’t really know who, we obeyed.

Many screams were heard in our group when the lightning fell near us. The storm was brutal, and it was a grave danger to all of us.

We all ran how fast we could, every one at a different speed.

I was terrified out of my mind, finding myself missing the emptiness of the calm Scorch during the day. Even with the burning hot sun over our heads.

Then it arrived unexpectedly and all at once. An immense pain that filled me from head to toe, an electrical current that shook my whole body and made every fiber of my being ache and become sore without even moving.

Then I felt myself falling limp to the ground, but I couldn’t really see anything because my eyes had shut themselves and wouldn’t open.

I heard voices calling my name and footsteps quickly inching closer.

But before I could made sense out of anything that was happening around me, I submerged in a darkness deeper than the one behind my eyelids.

*

I frowned when I felt someone shaking me violently, interrupting my empty and blank rest.

“Y/N, come on!” They shouted, but I couldn’t pinpoint who that voice belonged to.

I tried to speak up, to tell whoever was bothering me to stop what they were doing because they were staring to make me feel dizzy.

Why was no one else stopping them?

I groaned a little to complain, since that was all that I could manage at the moment. It was only then when I realized that I could actually open my eyes too.

But I felt too tired, so I just tried to move my arms first. With a lot of effort, I ended up dragging my hands until they met with another pair of hands, which held me by the collar of my shirt.

At last, they stopped shaking me when I touched them.

Then I felt like I was suffocating, so I took an urgent deep breath that provoked a coughing fit and a pang in my lungs. I closed my eyes tighter until it passed.

“Y/N” Came a shocked but relieved whisper.

I opened my eyes when I realized I knew who that was. I recognized his voice.

“Thomas?” I mumbled, almost too low to hear myself.

Everything was dark around us, but I could make out his facial features thanks to a very soft light coming from flashlights. Overall his furrowed brow and his anguished glance.

“Bloody hell, Y/N…” Next to him, Newt heaved a deep sigh.

“Those were the longest minutes of my entire life” Thomas sighed too.

“We thought you died!” Frypan exclaimed behind them.

“Almost…” My voice sounded rough and hoarse as tough I hadn’t spoken in years.

My throat felt dry and my chest felt heavy and tense, it was a little hard to breathe.

I tried to sit up once I realized I was lying down, but I groaned in pain when the wave of sore muscles awakened.

“Klunk” I muttered as I tried to ignore the pain in order to actually sit up with the help of Thomas and Newt.

“Shuck, Y/N is tough as nails!” Minho patted my shoulder.

Very softly, considering who we were talking about.

I heard many whispers and sighs of relief as everyone realized I had survived the shuck lightning hitting me. Barely, but I did.

Thomas threw himself to hug me, relieved and still frightened. His hands and arms shook against my back as he squeezed me tight, clutching to my body for comfort and seeking solace.

“Glad to see you’re okay, love” Newt messed up my hair fondly.

“That’s relative, Newt”

“The lightning gave you your sense of humor back, it’s a shuck miracle!” Minho had to be a smartass as usual. But when he saw I gave him a glare he smirked and winked at me, friendly. “Welcome back, you shank”

“Thanks” I absently said, realizing that Minho was right.

Why did I suddenly feel like joking around again, like I used to back in the Maze? Probably because I had almost died and it put everything into perspective.

Yes, the Scorch was harrowing, exhausting and horrible. But at least I was alive.

We all looked at each other for a while, thanking whatever superior forces the fact that I was alive.

Newt was the first one to try and help me up, but Thomas and the rest followed immediately. Thomas’ hands held me firmly but tenderly, gently but urgently.

Somehow, I knew that after all that, it would get better. Not easier, not safer, but just slightly better.

Because I had survived a shuck lightning bolt and I had my friends with me. And I had Thomas, who I knew would never leave me.

#imagine #oneshot #reader insert #thomas x reader #tmr #tmr imagine #tmr oneshot #the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #the maze runner oneshot #maze runner #maze runner oneshot #thomas #maze runner imagine #thomas imagine #thomas oneshot #tst #the scorch trials #tst imagine #tst oneshot

[samuelcrobinsononlinearchive]

island .1

I don't remember a lot about my first day, I remember the feeling of the sand in my toes. My body was shaking from what I can only still assume was being washed to shore. The sudden exposer to light burning my vision, a cool but warm breeze swooping over the island’s sandy landscape slapping into me. I didn’t panic, I stayed collected like a proper lady. That was until I stood up, I looked down the beach over the sand bump and saw a pile of wooden shacks and caravans decorated in light bulbs. In the center of the islands black sandy landscape my mother’s run-down house, it sat proud in the middle like the island was welcoming me. Then towering over them all a tall city sky scraper on the right. I hadn’t seen the tower before, but I could imagen the tall building sharing space in a tight city somewhere. Nothing made sense, it was terrifying but seeing my mothers house in the center of it all made me sick to my stomach.

A thick rusted metal bracelet was locked around my wrist, it let out a shock every time I tried to make a step closer to the buildings. My body fell to the ground with every attempted, my legs fell numb and my Bladder felt weak. I drew a line in the sand with my fingers and collapsed onto my knees, dipping the bracelets I to the cooling sea water. I short hiss let out as the bracelet cooled off, my shorts filled with water with every invading wave. I felt violated as I fleeted my hands over my body checking for scars, if the tide comes in I will have to make a choice. Burn or drown. The moon soon replaced the sun with what felt like a blink of the eye.  

light bulbs looped around the shacks in a decorative manner then straight across to my mother’s house. They finally led all the way up to one of the scrapers balcony's. Large metal plates of some kind that let off a strange humming sound were fixed on two sides of the sky scraper. It looked as if it had been ripped from the ground it was once fixated to and dropped on the island by mistake. This was no mistake, someone has gone through a lot of effort to put me here, to put my mother’s house here, something was going to happen and I knew that it was meant for me. I laid on my back looking directly at the stars, not a single cloud had past since I woke up. The stars and the ocean waves were calming, if it wasn't for the shocking metal bracelet and the fact I was starving this could have been a lucid dream.  

why me? I'm an average boring teenager with no hobbies or much sex appeal. I left school last year and started working in an office, I still live my neurotic mother who insists that we all sit down to dinner every weekend. The tide finally went out and my body could dry a little, it was warm but nothing too extreme. I don't know how long I can last laying here with out anything to eat or drink? I don't remember the last time I ate, in fact I don't remember anything about the last few days. I remember work but it felt like so long ago, how long have I been on this island? How long did I spend traveling unknowingly to the island? Am I older now? I guess I must be right? I'm at least one day older than when I woke up here.  

The moon moved slowly behind the cliffs next to the skyscraper, the island seemed almost still, voided of life. The only man-made noise came from the humming of the metal plates, maybe I should have called for help? I figu    the more attention I drew to myself the more I'm likely to get the attention I'm not looking for. My hair was frizzy and dry from the oceans embrace and my eyes felt run down from all the drama and silent tears. They started to feel heavy until I finally gave into the forth coming sleep, the last thing I remembered about my first day on the island was thinking. "I hope I wake up tomorrow"  

Day two.  

“Who are you” a little boy, I guess around eight or nine was standing over me.  

“Who are you?” I was never very good at conversing in the morning.  

“I asked first, who are you?” He stepped back as I started to sit up.  

“Hey! You have a bracelet too?” I pointed at his wrist.  

“We all do” he turned his head towards my mother’s house.  

As I stood up I could see people of all ages starting to stand up, a man laid on the beach no more than ten feet away from me.  

“Is he okay?” The little boy grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him.  

“ I can't it will shock me!” I yelled at him, you shouldn't yell at kids unless you have a shocking chunk of metal on your wrist.  

“Mine shocks me too” he looked down at his wrist.  

It was only now I could see the burn marks on his arm. The metal had singed into his skin, it was red and full of puss.

“It didn't stop until the sun came back” he pulled me towards the man who still laid motionless. I could see at least ten people gathering just outside my mum’s house, some were crying and others were shouting. The man must have been in his early twenties, maybe even my age. He was wearing a black suit with an expensive looking tie, his shock bracelet was different to ours, it was slim and red.  

“Is he okay?” The little boy let go of my hand and begun to search through the mans pockets.  

“You shouldn't touch him kid” I couldn't help but sound condescending and old.  

"What's your name?" The little boy looked up at me with his big brown eyes.  

"Phillip" he pulled out the mans wallet and begun to look through it.  

"His name is Luke Thomas Ryan and he's nineteen yea-"  

"I'm almost twenty actually" Ryan sat up and put his hand out towards Phillip.  

"You shouldn't be taking things that don't belong to you already Philip" Ryan took the wallet shoved it into his pocket and stood up. He looked at me for a while, as if I was the first women he had seen in days.  

"What do you mean already?" I mean that would imply he's been here for a while and that he was aware of his being here?  

"I mean this is only day two on the island" He looked as if he was startled by a woman speaking openly to him.  

"So, you know where we are?" I felt like Sherlock himself deducting words and taking in every inch of him with my eyes. He was tall, almost seven feet with daft looking blonde hair that fell in front of his eyes. His suit was perfect, no wrinkles or sand patches.  

"I woke up last night, I'm guessing like both of you?" He flashed me a quick smile showing off his perfectly white teeth. He must have bleached them, nobody has teeth like that. "Who are you anyway?" Great how do I answer that one?  

"I guess I'm Julie and that's Phillip" burgh why did I say that.  

"Well Julie and Phillip, let's go find out why we are here"

Phillip grabbed my hand as we walked towards my mother’s house, a group of at least twelve people were gathering. Ryan walked ahead of us and shouted for everyone to calm down.  

"does anyone have any water?" He took control of the situation but I'm not sure that was a good thing. Everyone looked no older than twenty with the youngest two being Phillip and a girl his age called Phebe. There was seven boys and seven girls totalling to fourteen of us, we all sat on my mother’s wooden porch waiting for something to happen. Ryan kept asking people to raise their hands to stupid questions he was asking, I guess he thought he was Sherlock too.  

"Has anyone been to this island before" Nobody raised their hand.  

"Is anyone here a member or was a member or a terrorist organisation" What does he think this is? Political kidnappings.  

"Did everyone wake up outside" Everyone but Phillip raised his hand.  

"I woke up inside a cave" Phillip sounded scared, like the cave had somehow hurt him.  

"I nudged him a little and asked him where the cave was.  

" I can't tell you Julie" He looked down at his wrist.  

"It hurt me"  

"Not this time Phillip I promise"  

I didn't think It was a good idea to tell anyone this was my house, I mean they could think I had something to do with it. I'm not even sure this is my house. A boy just a bit young than me told everyone that all the doors were somehow locked, he had tried to kick them down but they were too hard for just him.  

"Does anyone recognise these houses?" A ginger girl in an oversized yellow jumper raised her hand.  

"Well actually, that's my house" She pointed to the tower.  

"It's mine too" a boy no older than me raised his hand. Soon almost everyone concluded that they knew or had stayed in one the buildings on the island. I still didn't think it was a good idea to own up to the fact that this was my mother’s porch we were sitting on. The fact my house was in the centre of the island had to mean something.  

"We should at least investigate the tower" Ryan couldn't help but sound like a leader. The leader of what I have no idea. I finally spoke up and said I would come with him. Phillip stayed with Phebe on the porch of my mother’s house with another girl called Jane. She said that she would make sure they didn't get too scared, another boy called Charles asked if he could some with us. See if his apartment door would unlock with his card key.  

Soon there was five of us, marching towards the tower. It had looked close than I thought, each step I took the tower looked no closer. My body was aching with exhaustion, I felt not a day older but decades older. The black sand was deep, my feet sunk a couple of inches like a snow day back home. The size of the building makes it appear closer than it is, it has shiny tinted windows with steel looking fixtures. Sloppy welding and rusty frames, it was as if the building was revealing its age and imperfections to us. The humming grew louder as we started to close in on it, almost unbearable. Who could live here like this?  

"Hey, you look worried" Ryan dropped back from the group to walk beside me.  

"I'm okay, just thirsty that’s all"  

"Yeah, we really need to find something to eat or drink soon before we start eating each other" Ryan nudged into me.  

"I'm afraid I don't eat meat" I couldn't help but wonder if he already knew that.  

Waking up on a strange island somehow makes you paranoid about everything and everyone.

"Have you noticed yet?"  

"noticed what exactly?"  

" Well now Julie, I thought you had more whit about you" He laughed at me. Jerk

" There are how many people on this island so far?" He slowed his pace down so that the distance between us and the others grew.  

"Seven girls and seven boys?" I did that thing where you heighten your voice at the end of a sentence so that it sounds like a question.  

"Good now, have you noticed that my bracelet and yours are different colours?" He looked smug.  

"well, actually it was the first thing I noticed"  

" So there are exactly seven silver bracelets and seven red" he stopped walking and faced me.  

"Julie, what if that's because there are supposed to be two groups?" I laughed at his ridiculous question and carried on walking.  

The doors to the tower were grand, expensive looking but dirty from the sand. The black tinted doors had a beautiful 30's art deco pattern around them.  

"The key doesn't work" Charles was getting annoyed.  

"wait, that's new" He said.  

Next to the beautiful doors was a black techno looking thing. Like one of those eye scanners you see in spy movies. I walked through the group and put my metal bracelet against it, it beeped a few times and then flashed red.  

"Charles try yours" He pushed his red bracelet against the door scanner. It beeped again then flashed red.  

"Okay someone else try" Ryan being the born leader called each of us up one by one until finally he pushed his bracelet next to the scanner. Nothing happened for a while until a few seconds later it flashed green. The door unlocked with a mechanical clunking noise. "Access granted".  

"Sorry did the door just talk to you?" I couldn't help but laugh at how stupid that would be. Ryan pulled open the door first and made a heroic declaration about how he would be the first to see if it's safe. My hero. Charles followed him and then returned to inform us unheroic folk that it was safe to come in. Tyrone and Joanne went in next follow by myself. The hallway was a grand room, filled with smart looking furniture. Typical rich English décor, with a beautiful white marble floor and a large front desk. I could imagine the smart dressed receptionist denying people access for not being presentable enough. The elevator was already at the ground floor when we arrived. The lights were out but somehow the elevator had power. We didn't question it for too long because Charles had mentioned that he was on floor seventeen. 17 flights of stairs in wet knickers. I went in first followed by Ryan and then Charles, Tyrone and finally Joanne who wasn't a small girl. Ryan had his back to me when Joanne pushed backwards to avoid the closing doors. His hand crashed into mine causing our bracelets to connect. They let off a short but hard shock knocking both of us to floor. I could hear Joanne screaming and tyrone hovering over me asking if I was dead, I was still conscious but barely breathing from the shock. In the panic and cramped elevator someone must have pushed the buttons because the speaker announced our arrival at the penthouse top floor.  

***

My mind and body started to reconnect, adjusting to the pain. I snapped out of REM and my body flung up, mouth wide open letting out sharp gasp.

"Oh my god, we for sure thought you was both dead" Tyrone wasn't the most optimistic. "I'm okay, I think" Again I did the body pat down, checking for any cuts or burns. My mother worked in a hospital, she always talked about people who had no access to medicines and that even a paper cut could be life threatening.  

"I'm all here" why did I have to say that out loud.  

"Sorry, what?" Tyrone looked confused.  

"Don't worry, is Ryan okay" I asked.

"He's fine, we put him in his bed" Joanne was stuffing her face with some strange looking mush.  

"What do you mean his bed?" I asked.  

"yeah, look" tyrone pointed to the wall. A painting the size of my bath hung above the marble fire place, in the centre of the painting a grey-haired man sat with authority. Next to him stood a beautiful young wife and on the left, was Ryan, he looked just as unhappy about the painting as I was.

"Why didn't he tell us?" I was angry, somehow it felt like he had lied to me. Jerk face  

"well it's obvious, isn't it?" Charles walked out of what I can assume from the flush was a bathroom.  

"Why?"  

"Because Julie, his family own this building." Charles sounded resentful. That would make sense, his bracelet was the only one that worked.  

"Can I see him?" I asked nicely.  

"It's not my house, you don't need my permission" Charles was a snappy boy. I got up from the sofa I had awoken from and past the stacks of metal boxes that Joanne was helping herself to. The pent house looked over the entire island, the left side of the living room was made from perfectly clear glass. I took a moment to take it all in, the ocean’s tide had come back in. I could see mountains made of black sand for as far as I could see. It was almost the perfect view, you know. If we weren’t stuck here and all. The living room felt tense, like the others had already decided they didn't want to go back outside or share food with me. Ryan was laying under the covers with his suit still perfectly crease free, I looked around his bedroom at all his books. The classics like, Moby dick, the catcher in the rye and of course Bridget jones. His CD collection was small but sweet, some strokes and a six-disc set of driving music. I assume this was a present from his probably very beautiful girlfriend. Nobody would voluntary purchase a cd set that's over twelve hours long.

"Julie come here" he whispered.  

"You're awake" He looked pale but still beautiful.  

"Quickly, before they hear me" He snapped.  

I walked over to his modern looking bed, it had a silver chrome base with a thick memory foam mattress and black silk sheets.

"Is this bed supposed to levitate" I laughed at him  

"Like is this one of those NASA beds?" I'm too funny sometimes.  

He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.  

"They know" He said.  

"They being and know what?" I'm so confused.  

"I heard them talking" He said in a serious tone.  

"They know about the bracelets" He looked at my wrist.  

"What about them?" I'm not catching on.  

"You're the only silver one here" He pointed at the door.  

"help me up, I need to change and we need to get out of here" He sounded so urgent.  

What had they been talking about? Was I going to become subject to a fashion war? So,     what if mine is silver and they all had red ones.  

Ryan flung his jacket on the bed and pulled off his white shirt over his head, his body wasn't crease free like the suit. His body is so toned, each part of him covered in muscle and perfection. It was wrong to look but who knows if I will live long enough to see another mans body. He tapped the wall and flung open a hidden wardrobe.  

"How come you never told me that you lived here?" I asked.  

"I don't, well not really."  

"This is my dad's tower"  

"I just stay here, every other weekend, that's the deal anyways" He pulled on some skinny black jeans and a black t-shirt.

"We need to get you out of here" He said with such urgency again.  

"I don't get why?" I asked him again.  

"They've figured out that you and Phillip and the others have silver." He sounded concerned still.  

"That doesn't mean anything Ryan?!"  

"Hey, we should take some food and water to the others” Ryan walked into the living room like what he had just said was nothing.  

“If you want to call this food” Joanna lifted her head up out of one of the metal boxes.  

“We should take this one” Charles closed shut the box Joanne was stuffing her face with. “Just the one? There is fourteen of us” I couldn't help myself.

“Yes, but they will eat it all” Charles snapped back at me.  

“Some of them are just kids Charlie” by the face he pulled he didn't like being called Charlie. “Yes, they are kids Julie” he picked up the case and headed for the door.  

“If we give them all the food, they will eat it leaving nothing for me” Charlie slammed the door shut behind him.

“for us” I snapped back.  

“I guess I'll get the water then” Tyrone tried to move a barrel, tried being the key word there. I skipped out on the crowded lift and decided to take the stairs, each floor was beautifully decorated with marble flooring and exotic plants. Floor after floor drowning with unbearable silence, not even the humming of the plates. I couldn't stop trying to decipher what Ryan had meant by ‘they know about the bracelets’. who cares? I don't care. To my surprise only Ryan was waiting in the lobby with his perfectly good-looking hair, he was slumped over a Victorian looking sofa looking all droopy.  

“Hey are you okay?” He shot up into what I guess he thought was a more appropriate posture.  

“Sure, I didn't hear you come down”  

“I will announce myself next time, like the front door”  

“the others didn't want to wait around, I tried to get them to but-”  

“you don’t need to explain”  

The lobby was fun, it had tons of sofas and arm chairs with little candy bowls. The lights were out and the tinted glass almost made it dark, but it felt a hundred times safer than outside. I couldn’t tell if it was Ryan or the building but I feel better.

“What did you mean upstairs, about them knowing?”  

“Listen, this is going to sound insane but when I woke up I felt something” his eyes avoided me like the plague.  

“You felt something for me?” weird.

“No Julie, I felt something” he stood up walked over to me and whispered into my ear  

“not here Julie”  

Time felt so still, I don't know if it was the way he said it or the fact his face was so close to mine.  

“We should go find Phillip, he's probably worried” I walked towards the door.  

Ryan looked confused as if somehow, I was supposed to breakdown or beg him to talk. Not me. I know boys, they love a helpless girl.  

Charles was halfway through my mother’s window when we got back to her house. He had smashed it with a part of the wooden porch. I half expect my mother to smack him over the head with something and march him out the front door. The windows where covered in dirt from the sandy landscape and gushing winds, it felt safe before but now everyone could see into my home. Charlie was trying to unlock the door from the inside, banging into it with his stupid body. I pushed through the Crowd and put my wrist up to the scanner, the door unlocked with the same computer like sound. “Access Granted” I could hear people talking about me but I'm too angry to care.  

“Charlie, get out of my house!!!”  

“Get out you idiot”  

“now”  

I was too angry to see it at first. This wasn't my house.  

“You live here?” Ryan had followed me through the door.  

The living room looked the same but not the same, the walls white, the furniture missing. No photos, no sofas even the rug was gone. In its place was a stack of TVs, I counted almost twenty of them. They all faced towards the front door, different sizes and generations. A mint green 1930’s TV sat next to a high tech flat screen, TVs all in a row facing the door. Some were stacked on top of each other, somewhere slightly behind others. Charlie started to walk around the back of them, checking for any cables.  

“you said you lived here Julie?” Charles stopped and started at me, as if implying the TV’s had something to do with me.  

“yes and no” I turned to look at Ryan just as the back row of televisions turned on. A black screen with basic white text flickered on, each one saying welcome. The front row turned on next with a sinister powering up sound, displaying the same black screen with the same basic white text saying HOME. I could hear people starting to panic on the porch, peering through the broken window. Phillip pushed his way through and gripped my hand. Ryan ordered that everyone should leave the area but me, Tyrone, Charles, Connor and Jess. Three reds and three silvers.

Ryan closed the door and walked straight up to the TV in the center of them all, it had four brown legs with a matching TV frame. On the front was another bracelet scanner, he pushed his wrist against it but nothing happened.  

“You next” he pointed at Charles. Nothing happened.  

“Now you” he pointed at me. I pushed my wrist up against the scanner and started to walk back in line. Suddenly the screens turned red, then black then even blacker until they were all off.  

“Welcome Megan” the TV in the center stayed on.  

“Who is Megan” Jess looked at me. I shrugged it off, I didn't want to tell them my real name. I had no motive to lie but even Ryan didn't admit to owning the scraper straight away.  

A symbol faded onto the televisions.

“what is it?” Charlie looked at me.  

“why would I know” the screens were old, not shabby chic but old. They flicked making the symbol almost impossible to understand.  

It could have been an animal of some kind, a man’s voice started to talk. “Welcome, I wanted to start by saying this will be your new home” he paused for a while. “Let me start with the rules, there are fourteen of you but only seven can survive” his voice didn't flinch, no sound of concern or empathy. A cold man. “Not six, or eight, only seven” Ryan grabbed my hand, I looked round at him and everyone else. We were all stunned by his words.  

Ryan doesn’t look surprised; does he know who the man is?

Ryan's grip tightened. “you cannot leave the island, you cannot hide from the island and you cannot defeat the island” the man’s voice stopped and the screens shut off almost Instantly.  

The screens powered on one at a time, they all displayed the black screen with white letters spelling out i-l-d-n-s-a. island.

I knew what this meant and I knew that Ryan knew what this meant. Seven. Seven only.

They want us to kill, Kill children.  

Without a flicker of hesitation, I walked past the televisions and run up the stairs towards my bedroom. The floor boards were bare and creaky, my bedroom door was locked.  

“Ryan” I screamed down to him.  

“Ryan” he came stomping up the stairs towards me.

“what's wrong?” He looked genuinely panicked.  

“kick down this door?” He titled his head a little.  

“I would do it myself but I'm not in the mood” I slipped him a half smile and turn to watch his foot clammed into the door.  

I need to play the game, if he thinks I am weak I have the element of surprise later. No children are going to die on this island.  

The wood cracks slightly with every kick, someone from the called up the stairs and asked if he needed any help. It almost sounded sinister like he was going to take me out. The door finally gave way and swung open, Ryan grabbed my hand and pulled me in slamming the door shut behind us. The room was full of metal cases and one silver bag, it was all foreign to me. Ryan walked over to the window and looked down at the children playing.  

"They want us to fight each other?" he said.  

"who exactly are they?" He laughed.  

“The people, the ones doing this”

Why is he so calm? I need food.

"We should find somewhere to sleep" he said.  

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on” I pulled him away from the window and looked directly I into his deep eyes.

“listen to me” he held my arm.

“I don’t know what is going on, but what I do know if Charles had already figured out that half of us are red and the other silver” he paused.

“after that show, or whatever it is he will make a divide”

“seven reds or seven silvers” I thought out loud again

“me, you, Philip and that little girl Phebe I think. We will stay at my house tonight, tomorrow we can work start a search group” he smiled and walked out if the door. I peered out of the window and saw Ryan starting to address the group, he was telling everyone to ration the food in the case they had taken from the tower and find someone where to sleep. He suggested that they sleep at least in pairs of two and in the shacks or caravans. Charles and Joannea volunteered to start handing out the food and water. No surprise, keeping the best for themselves. I’ll search the rest of the house and then grab Phebe and Phillip. Just as I was about to walk away from the window Ryan shot me a glare, I caught his eye and gave him a half-hearted smirk.  

The trunks in my room were filled with dried food packets, they were white paper like squares with black writing in the centre. They mostly read things like pasta and mash, an occasional pudding packet. I pulled out two puddings and a bottle of water, I noticed the silver bag on the floor again. It felt heavy, like a bag of blankets. The zip had been broken off, like someone clumsy had packed it in a hurry. Without another thought I grabbed he bag and headed for the front door, I slammed the door shut. “door locked” people turned to look at me on the porch, I had hoped that I could slip out unnoticed.  

“why did you look the door” Charles shouted.

“it was an accident” I tried to shake the comment off and walked down towards the caravans.  

“Phillip” he must be in one of them.

“they are in my cabin at the end” Jane caught up behind me.

“listen Jane, can you get Phillip and Phebe to tower”

“The tower?” she stopped walking.

“it’s not safe, I will tell you everything later”

“erm” Jane paused for a moment her brown short hair waving in the cool breeze.

“just bring the kids to the tower in ten minutes, try not to let them see yo-”

“let who see us” her face dropped

“everyone”  

I slipped through a gap between two caravans and walked behind the row of shacks and cabins, I could hear people starting to walk down on the other side. Chatting about who’s place they were going to stay at tonight. How can everyone be acting to calm about the situation? We will most likely die here, who knows what they will do if we don’t kill each other? I got to the last house in the row, my house. I could hear Joanne, Charles and Ryan talking. Ryan told them to stay together tonight and stay alert, Charles wanted to stay in the tower, he wanted to go to floor 17 and find out if his clothes were their but Ryan suggested that he stayed at Joanne’s caravan because it was getting dark quickly.

Jo and Charlie started to walk away and giggle, she was clearly into him.  

All Charlie is into is himself love.  

“you can come out now” Ryan shut the metal case and turned around to face my house.  

“how did you know” I moved around the side if the house slowly to check we were alone.

“my dad used to take us hunting”  

“hunting, that’s awful” I sat on my porch and fiddled with one of the planks on the floor.

“what you don’t eat animals?” he laughed.

“nope”

“even in all of this?” he waved his hands around as if introducing a scene at a theatre  

“have you looked at the food?”

“no” he looked confused

“meat free baby” I flipped up a peace sign and laughed at him

The wooden plank finally gave way and one of the nails fell out, I slipped the nail into my pocket whilst Ryan was preoccupied with checking the food packets.

“you’re right” he slammed the case shut.

“even in all of this, you’re upset about going vegan?” I laughed and mimicked his hand gestures.

“why are you pulling up the porch?” Ryan walked over the help me with another plank.

“curious, help me with another one”  

After we had removed three planks, I laid flat and stuck my head under the porch floor.  

“what is it?” Ryan shouted, despite being only inches away from me.

“more sand” I pulled my head up and covered the hole with the planks again.  

“what was the point then?” Ryan stamped down on the planks.

“wires, the house has power; wires would lead us back to the source of the power”  

Just as Ryan sat down Jane and the kids came running around the corner of my house.

“we should go quickly” Ryan said as he pulled me up from the floor.  

The walk felt even longer this time, with only a string of white bulbs to guide us to the tower we shuffled along in blinding darkness. My mind going into overdrive. Ryan knows more than he is letting on, what if he wants us to come back to the tower because he thinks we are weak? Kill us off whilst we sleep in his own home. Ryan wouldn’t do that would he? He wouldn’t. He can’t, I won’t let him. Me, Phillip, Jane, Jess, Skyler, Tyrone and Amy are silver. That means Ryan, Charlie, Jo, Connor, Rex, Claire and Phebe are Red. Whoever is doing this wants two children to fight until death. I won’t let it happen, I must act weak in front of Ryan, Connor, Charlie and Jo. They are my only challenge here, but Ryan. How could I kill him? Tomorrow I’ll find that cave, take Jane and the kids. If we wait things out until the other fight it out, then they should let us go, right? Seven no more or less, that’s what the man said but he wouldn’t leave us here to die. Would he?

Ryan opened the door, although it was loud we were far enough to not have to worry about the others hearing us. The ground floor was in complete darkness, only the elevator buttons were visceral.

“everyone to the light, I’m going to shut the doors” Ryan was last in. The realisation that we were strangers forced onto an island set in, my hands started the shake uncontrollably. Each step towards the elevator in total darkness, avoiding my urge to cry. Scream.  

“why did you lie to me?” Phillip grabbed my hand out of the darkness

“I haven’t?”  

“you said your name was Julie” the boy stopped  

“I’m sorry Phillip”

“it’s okay, my name isn’t actually Phillip” he smiled  

“what?”

“it’s Pip”

“well pip, do you want to press the button?” the boy raced to the elevator and slapped into the control panel.

“Door locked”  

We made it to Ryan’s Pent house floor, Phebe had fallen asleep in Janes arms; her mouth wide open. “you two can take my parents room” Ryan pointed across the living room.  

“Megan, help me keep the doors open whilst I get something to wedge them” Ryan pushed the door back.  

“why, you shut the doors didn’t you?”  

“let’s just take extra care tonight” Ryan dragged over a small sofa, he pushed it through the doors so that the light doors were forced open. I climbed over the sofa and scooped up Pip, I didn’t really take in how grand and spacious Ryan’s house was before. A modern electric fire burned in the centre with three grey sofas surrounding it, small bronze and glass side tables beside each one with rustic looking lamps.  

“Why are the lights on?” Pip looked around the room

“it’s a timer, don’t worry guys” Ryan walk over to the open plan kitchen area.

“anyone hungry?” he started to unpack some of the packets from the metal boxes.  

“let’s go find you a bath and some clothes” I carried pip through Ryan’s bedroom into his on suit,