#she was such a good friend last season! and now she’s throwing Jackson Under the Bus at every opportunity. it’s not right. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andvys · 3 years

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stubborn love part 8

warnings: angst, violence

pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

You woke up to the feeling of soft lips against your neck, a hand gripping your waist, sighing at the feeling you turned around, facing Ellie.

“good morning.” she whispered, smiling at you.

“morning babe.” you blushed, thinking back to last night, when you realized you were both naked under the blanket.

Ellie chuckled at how flustered you'd gotten, “you are so cute y/n.” she smiled, pulling you into a hug.

“so are you.” you told her, grinning when she started protesting.

You pressed a kiss on her neck and laid your head on her chest, enjoying the quiet morning with her.

“so who are you patrolling with today?” Ellie asked, slightly worried that you'd have to go on Patrol with Alicia again.

“group patrol with Joel.” you replied.

“you finally agreed huh?” she chuckled.

Joel always asked you to join him on the group patrols he was doing, he usually took a few people into the small towns near Jackson, keeping eye out for infected or hunters but he would also let the people check out the old stores there and let them take a few things back.

Group patrols weren't really your thing and you didn't feel comfortable enough, going on patrol with people you barely knew but you finally agreed, you couldn't say no to the poor man any longer, plus you trusted him, so at least he was there.

“yeah I couldn't resist his puppy eyes.” you said making Ellie laugh.

“puppy eyes? this man is anything but a puppy.” she chuckled.

“no.. I'm sure he's a puppy, look at him, he looks warm and fluffy.”

Ellie laughed even more at your words.

“You wouldn't say that if you knew him before coming to Jackson.” she said, gripping your waist tighter.

“hmm okay whatever you say.” you sighed. “who are you patrolling with?”

“Jesse. it’s just a short route, I’ll be home before you.”

You chuckled, “oh so you can start cooking dinner.” you teased knowing how much she hated cooking.

“y/n, I don’t want you to die because of my horrible cooking, I can make you a sandwich though.” she laughed, running her fingers through your hair.

“I'll accept the sandwich.” you smiled, kissing her neck, she squeezed your butt in response, earning a slight groan from you.

You looked up at her, noticing the smirk on her face.

“we still have some time.” she suggested, leaning down to kiss your lips.

“hmm, let's make the best out of it then.” you winked at her.

She grinned at you before grabbing your face to kiss you.

“hi.” you greeted Joel, who was by the gates with his horse.

“mornin’ kid, how’re you doin’?” he asked, smiling at you.

“i’m good, you?” you smiled at him.

“me too, i’m happy you finally agreed to come with us.”

“yeah it was about time.” you chuckled.

“you can bring back a gift for your girlfriend.” he winked at you before getting on his horse when the rest of the group arrived.

You blushed, you and Ellie never really talked about what you were. It was obvious that you were dating, you just never discussed labels.

“yeah.” you laughed before getting on your horse as well.

You were riding side by side with Joel, the other three men who were with you, were riding behind you.

The air was fresh and you enjoyed the smell of fall, the slightly cold weather gave you a comforting feeling. Fall has always been your favorite season. You loved it when the leaves started turning orange and yellow and you could just wear Ellie’s big hoodies and flannels without having to take them off because it was getting too warm, like in the summer.

“Ellie never shuts up about you, you know?” Joel said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked over at him in surprise, you didn't know that she was talking to Joel about you.

“don't look so surprised kid.” he chuckled at your facial expression. “she always asked for advice.”

Furrowing your brows, you asked yourself when she told him about having a crush on you.

“I- since uh when?” you stammered, blushing slightly.

“well she talked about you right from the start.” he said, smiling at you “and you were the only friend of her’s, that she was telling me about.” he pointed out.

You smiled at that thought, you knew there was a time where she didn't talk much about anything to anyone, so you were surprised to find out that she was talking about you.

“she loves you y/n, don't ever doubt that. no matter what might've happened between the two of you before that.” he told you, giving you a reassuring smile.

You smiled back at him, appreciating the way he was talking to you. Ellie was basically his daughter, so this conversation could've gone way differently, he could've been stern about it but he was nice and supporting.

Once you'd gotten to the small town, everyone went into opposite directions. This place was relatively safe since groups would come back here all the time to clear off any infected so you didn't have to worry about running into a small herd or anything.

You've never been here but you knew that Ellie came here with Joel occasionally. She probably got you that flannel from one of the old stores here. You were surprised to see that the houses and stores here weren't as run down like they were in other places.

You walked into a store that seemed to look like an old gaming store or something of that sort, you looked around and saw that most of the shelves were still full. If this was a gun store, you would've never found the shelves being full.

You looked through the games and found one that Ellie and Jesse have been talking about a few days ago, you put it in your backpack, along with a few comics.

You kept going through all the other stores, putting some stuff in your backpack that you could find useful later for whenever you had to go out on patrol.

You heard footsteps behind you when you were about to walk into an old music store, turning around you saw Joel heading your way, some blood splattered on his clothes. You furrowed your brows and looked at him in concern.

“what happened?” you asked, eying the blood.

“a couple of infected made it into one of the old buildings, no big deal.” he told you. “you found anything kid?” he asked.

“I haven't found any infected. no.” you answered, causing him to chuckle.

“I meant, you found anything for yourself?” he smiled.

“oh!” you laughed “yeah, some things for Ellie and uh some knifes?” you chuckled.

“and here I thought you'd go and find yourself some pretty things.” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“..well, I get Ellie a bracelet.” you shrugged, feeling a little flustered.

You've never been in a relationship before so it was new to you to show affection for your girlfriend in front of others.

“that’s nice kid, you should get yourself something too.” he said, squeezing your shoulder before he walked past you.

“yeah..”

Ellie just got back home from patrol with Jesse and parted ways with him to go home. Right when she was about to get the keys out of her backpack she noticed that her door was open.

Furrowing her brows, she looked around in confusion, she could've sworn that she closed it when she left this morning and she knew you weren't back yet and even if you would've never left the door open.

Pushing it open slowly, she wasn't expecting someone to stand there. Especially not her.

“what the hell are you doing here?!” she grumbled, throwing the door open, she walked inside.

Alicia turned around and chuckled, holding Ellie’s journal in her right hand while her left hand held a polaroid picture of you.

“I love her so much, no wait, I am in love with her. she is the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever seen in my life, she’s like the sunshine after the rain, anytime I'm with her, I forget about every worry that I have. I wish I could just tell her how much I love her.” Alicia read from Ellie’s diary. “blah blah blah.”

“You really are pathetic Ellie. You loved her so much and yet you were with other’s all the time, that doesn't seem like love to me.” she said, glaring at Ellie. “you don't deserve her.”

Anger poured through Ellie at her sight of her and her words. “and you deserve her?” she scoffed.

“yeah, I’d be much better for her. I could actually treat her right.” she shrugged, smirking at Ellie.

“yeah right, you fucking crazy bitch could treat her right?” Ellie laughed, causing Alicia to clench her jaw at her words.

“you are so fucking stupid, you don't even get that she never liked you do you? As I have told you before, you were a distraction and now you won’t even get the hint that she wants nothing to do with you.” Ellie said, shaking her head.

“shut up.” Alicia mumbled, gripping the journal tightly in her hand.

“she loves me and if you think that she would leave me for you then you're even dumber than I thought.” Ellie told her as she was feeling the anger building up in her.

“she doesn’t have to leave you if you're gonna be dead.” Alicia said through gritted teeth, throwing the journal on the table next to her, she pulled a knife out of her pocket.

Ellie looked at her in disbelief, was she really gonna kill her and think that you would date her after killing Ellie?

“You and Ellie should come over for dinner this weekend.” Joel said, smiling at you.

“that would be nice!” you smiled up at him “I could attempt to bake something.” you suggested, scrunching up your face, when you thought about the first time you tried baking and almost burned down the kitchen.

Joel chuckled and patted your shoulder “don't worry about it, I remember the story about the cake.”

“don’t reming me, that’s kinda embarrassing.” you laughed. “but hey, I can still try, you’re never supposed to give up right?”

“that’s right, kid.” he smiled at you “alright, well you and Ellie have a nice night yeah?” he said, pulling you into a hug.

“you too Joel.” you smiled, hugging him back before you pulled away and went over to Ellie’s house.

As you came closer, you heard the sound of glass smashing, startled you ran towards the door, noticing that it was wide open.

You ran inside, finding Alicia choking Ellie on the floor, both were covered in blood, the room was a mess, broken glass was laying on the floor, along with a broken table.

Alicia was about pick up a piece of broken glass, presumably to try and kill Ellie but you ran over to her and send a hard kick to her face, knocking her off. Ellie gasped out for air weakly, you pulled her up into a sitting position, noticing all the blood that was running down her cheek from a cut, she looked like she was beginning to fall unconscious.

You turned around quickly when Ellie looked behind you, barely keeping her eyes open, to see Alicia getting up with an angry expression on her face. “y/n..” she mumbled.

Rage filled you at the thought that she tried to kill Ellie, you got up and pulled your backpack off throwing it to the side.

Alicia looked at you, “you have to understand y/n-

“shut up!” you yelled at her, as you pulled your gun out of your holster and pointed it at her, causing her to gasp at your action, clearly not expecting it.

She looked like a mad woman, with her long hair in front of her face, blood dripping down from her nose, she looked way worse than Ellie but it didn't matter, she almost killed her.

“you don’t get to come here and touch what’s mine.” you grunted at her, as you put your finger on the trigger.

She clenched her jaw at your words and put her hands into fists “you never gonna love me will you?”

“you expect me to love you? especially after this?” you scoffed at her, shaking your head.

She let out a grunt before she emerged towards you, startling you. You pulled the trigger, the shot went off but she managed to push your hand away at the last second, dodging the bullet that went straight into the wall.

She smashed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your shoulders, throwing you against the wall.

Right when she was about to punch you in the face, you dodged her fist and threw a punch at her instead making her stumble back in pain, you grabbed the glass that was standing on the kitchen counter and smashed it against her face, breaking it in the process. She let out a yelp and touched her face, grunting at the pain. You could feel the broken glass, piercing your skin open but you didn’t care at the moment.

You started running towards your gun but she recovered already and grabbed your hair, pulling you back, before you could react, she threw a punch at your face and let you fall to the ground.

“..fuck.” you muttered, crawling away as you saw her walking towards you, you quickly turned around and started to get up but she grabbed you from behind and threw you against the dresser, you tried to catch yourself but it was too late, your head smashed against it, you didn't even register the pain at first but then you felt warm blood running down your face, you could hear a loud ringing in your ears and you began feeling lightheaded, you fell to the side as your vision began to blur.

You could hear footsteps coming closer to you, you tried to keep your eyes open and to move but you were unable to do anything.

“this is all your fault y/n.”

her voice sounded so close and yet so far away as you started to black out.

the last thing that you heard was a gunshot before you fell unconscious.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #tlou imagines #ellie williams angst

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anxiousstark · 4 years

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S2 11 | Battleplan

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1912.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: This is kind of a filler. Not too long. Bruh, LAST CHAPTER OF SEASON 2.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Things were complicated. Melissa wasn't talking to Scott nor me, she witnessed me flashing my eyes, and she saw Scott as a werewolf.

When Matt had dragged my unconscious body to one of the rooms where almost everyone was, I woke up for a couple of seconds, Stiles was unconscious on the floor, and Mr. Stilisnki had been hit on the head, falling to the ground. Then, the Kanima appeared, I found strength from somewhere deep inside me when I saw that he was planning to attack Melissa. I took the arrow out of my belly, the pain made my eyes flash, and while I stabbed the Kanima on the back with the same arrow, my eyes met Melissa's.

Stiles was receiving help. I felt bad because a couple of days before I had promised to protect his father, which I wasn't able to do. Not only that, but he was also ignoring me.

I was sitting on the bleachers, a lacrosse game would take place in a couple of minutes. I noticed Stiles and Scott talking to each other, and decided to go up to them. "Hey," I whispered, hands inside the pockets of my jacket, it was freezing. Scott glanced up, offering me a little smile. However, the other boy continued talking without acknowledging me.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it? I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?" His eyes were teary, legs bouncing up and down. "Scott, the other night seeing my dad get hit over the head by Matt, you know, while I'm just lying there and I can't even move, it just-. I want to help, you know, but I can't do the things that you can do. I can't-."

"It's okay."

Stiles shook his head. "We're losing, dude."

We were losing. We were losing people, and maybe we were losing ourselves on the way.

"The hell are you talking about?" Coach appeared from behind them, and even though I saw him coming near, I got startled. I was jumpy. "Game hasn't even started. Now put on your helmet and get out there. You're in for Greenberg."

"What? What happened to Greenberg?" He began looking around.

"What happened to Greenberg? He sucks. You suck slightly less."

"I'm playing? On the field? With the team?"

"Yes, unless you'd rather play with yourself."

"I already did that today, twice." I almost chuckled.

"Get the hell out there!"

The hazel-eyed boy restlessly grabbed all of his things. Before he could walk to the field, I stopped him, my hand clutching his jersey. "Stiles, I-"

"I can't talk," He didn't even glance at me. "This is important for me." Wasn't I?

"Yeah," I whispered, but he was already running to the field. "Good luck," I muttered. I heard Scott calling my name, but I just offered him a smile as he did before.

I went back to the bleachers, deciding to sit next to Melissa, but she quickly waved Lydia over. I didn't think much about it, or at least I tried not to while I sat next to Noah. His arm went around my shoulder as he kissed my forehead. For a moment, I thought I would break down. Noah couldn't help but scream for Stiles when his son walked to the field.

Things got even more complicated. First, Isaac came to the game, sitting down next to Scott. They both seemed to be friends now. Then, I noticed that Gerard was wickedly smiling while peering at Scott. Something was going on. Next, Jackson took a player to the ground, inducing him into unconsciousness. Coach asked Scott to play, and Melissa suspected that something more was going on, something more than just a lacrosse game. But then Scott disappeared while Coach screamed for him to come back.

I got up from the bleachers, determined to search for him even though my wound was fresh, and still hurting. But then everyone on the bleachers started cheering up, Stiles had scored. And another one. Then, again. The team hugged each other, congratulating. Stiles glanced at the bleachers, his eyes met mine. I was clapping, proud of him, grinning widely. He beamed back, but just for a couple of seconds as he seemed to realize something, then the smile wasn't for me, it was for Lydia Martin. And I suppose that is how everything should be.

The buzzer sounded, indicating the end of the game and our victory. The excitement didn't last. The lights went out, and someone screamed. Everything seemed to slow down. People falling to the ground, screams, bumping into others, running, fear. I made sure that Mr. Stilisnki was fine, running to the field, searching for Stiles. But I tripped, falling to the ground. I tripped over someone just lying there. I tripped over Jackson's unconscious body.

"Jackson? What's happened to Jackson?" Lydia's terrified voice sounded all over. "Jackson! Jackson! Jackson, what's happening?" She kneeled on the floor, next to him. I quickly got into the same position as her, grasping her arms, doing my best to calm her down.

"Can we get a medic over here? We're gonna need a medic!"

Melissa came running to us, putting her head over his chest. "He's not breathing. No pulse." She started pressing his chest, trying to bring him back. "Get down here." She glanced at Lydia. "Get down here and hold his head. Tilt it up."

"Stiles?" I whispered to myself, running to all the lacrosse players, looking at them in hopes of finding a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

"Where's Stiles? W-where's my son? Where's Stiles? Where's Stiles? Where's Stiles? Where the hell is my son?"

The last hours were horrible. I spent them being embraced by Scott, reassuring each other, convincing each other that Stiles Stilisnki was perfectly safe.

Then...

I ran with all my strength, the wound on my stomach was burning, and it was probably bleeding as Melissa told me not to force myself. But I couldn't help it. Stiles was back. Stiles was in his house.

"You came running?" Mr. Stilisnki's eyes were wide open after he opened the front door, letting me come inside the Stilisnki household. I nodded my head frantically, glancing around. "He is upstairs." He smiled. I grinned, running towards the steps until his voice stopped me. "Lydia is there too."

"Uhm," I turned around. "C-can I wait here until she comes down?" He seemed confused. "I don't want to interrupt their, uhm, talk." He shook his head while smirking, muttering something under his breath. "Want something to drink?" I approved, following him to the kitchen, and sitting down on a chair. "How are you feeling?" He handed me a cup.

I fiddled with it, feeling the warmth go through my hands. "I did look inside the backpack." He waited for me to go on. "Some pictures of famous people she admired, and a picture of her with the friend who took care of me."

"No picture of you."

I sadly smiled, glad that I didn't have to say so myself. "Love," I sighed. "It's a strange thing. Mr. Stilisnki," He glared at me. "I mean Noah," I laughed while continuing. "How can I trust people when the ones who should teach me about it weren't even there?" My voice cracked. "Now, I'm terrified. I don't want to get too close because something bad could happen."

"Or something beautiful," His hands grabbed mine, thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Love feels good and hurts so bad, that doesn't mean everything will be wrong. There will be joyful and sorrowful moments. You need to go through all of them."

"If they ta-."

"Nobody is going to take you away, okay?" He softly whispered. "I will take care of that."

"Uhm," I heard someone, turning around to see Lydia. I smiled at her, although I don't think it looked like an honest one. "I'm already leaving," She glanced at the older Stilisnki. "Thank you for letting me stop by."

After we heard the door close, he nudged me. "Go."

I tried to calm my nerves while breathing deeply. I lightly knocked on the door, and when I heard his voice my stomach fluttered. However, I didn't like what I had in front of me. His cheek was bruised, a large bruise all over it, and his lower lip was busted.

My hands grabbed his neck, moving his head to the other side so I could examine his wounds. "Who did this?" He didn't reply, eyes meeting mine just for a couple of seconds. "Who did this, Stiles? I swear to god I will kill whoeve-."

"That's your problem." He pulled my hands off him. I studied his body posture, he was anxious and mad. "You don't know what you are, but you still throw yourself into trouble. A pepper spray?" Why was he talking now about the other day? "Pepper spray against a Kanima? Got beaten and shot, you still ran your mouth and insulted Matt which made him hit you, even while you were unconscious." His lower lip trembled. "And I couldn't do anything about it because I was paralyzed!"

"I would do it again."

"See, that's the problem. Y-you don't care about getting hurt." He stepped closer to me. This time, his eyes didn't leave mine. "But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my fucking mind." His eyes were teary, and at this point, mines were too. "You see, death doesn't happen to you, Y/N. It happens to everyone around you, okay? To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it? Huh?" He was screaming now. "And look at my face, huh? Come on, you actually think this was meant to hurt me?" I flinched a little, not liking when people raised their voices. "Um- I'm so sorry." He brought me closer to him, hiding his face on my neck. "I missed you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry"

"Is this why you ignored me on the field?" I embraced him tightly, terrified that he would disappear. I felt him nod. "Stiles, I would do anything for you like I know you would do anything for me." I felt him nod his head, bringing me even closer to his body.

Our eyes met. Arms still tight around each other. His eyes went from my eyes to my lips. He got closer, head inclined to the right side, getting closer.

"Y/N, wanna have dinner here?" We jumped apart. Warm invading our faces. Stiles blushing quite hard. "Oh, did I- does Chinese sound good?" We both nodded, shyly smiling as he closed the door behind him.

I found the strength to turn around and glance at him when I heard a faint melody resonating through his room. He had moved closer to his computer, playing the song. My eyebrows were furrowed, waiting for him to explain what was going on. "What is going on?" I whispered, not having the strength to talk louder.

He beamed at me. "I want to slow dance like we did at the dance." He came closer, asking for permission to place his hands on my waist. Of course, I nodded my head as my hands travelled from his chest to his shoulders, resting there. "But just with you."

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

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you have to give a dog a name // frank castle

Summary: Frank takes a liking to a waitress at a diner – in Hell’s Kitchen it would never be long before the same waitress gets introduced to the Punisher

Request: just something i’d been thinking of for a while tbh

A/N: love Frankie

Reader: female

Warnings: age difference, violence, assault, swearing, dogs, injuries, guns

part 1 // part 2

Working the night shift at the diner down the street just to earn enough money to survive whilst also trying to get through school was not easy nor ideal. But it wasn’t the worst option. Not by a long shot. Especially not in Hell’s Kitchen, where vigilantes and evil villains ran around like they owned the place. Although, that’s exactly what they did.

You didn’t get what was considered enough sleep; what with half your time spent on night shifts and the other half working hard enough to escape them. So, whilst you stood there, behind the counter, at 4am, you barely noticed the guy in the baseball cap sitting in the booth across the diner. When you did, you fumbled for the coffee jug, dragging it across the counter towards him. He’d been in the diner almost religiously for the last two months – only ever in the night shift between the hours of 2 and 5am. You didn’t know his name and given the city you lived in, chose to ignore how bruised his face always seemed to be.

“Just coffee today?” You asked, pouring him a cup. He lifted his head slightly, only grumbling in response. On the other side of the restaurant, there was a clicking sound from a businessman with a grey suit and an uglier briefcase. He looked at you expectantly, clearly irritated. You bit your lip. Asshole.

“Are you sure I can’t interest you in some breakfast? I make some mean eggs.” He smiled slightly as you sighed. The clicking noise from the man’s fingers just got louder and more impatient.

“No thanks, Doll, just coffee.”

You nodded, offering him your own smile before your face dropped and you were forced across the room to an impatient middle-aged man’s beck and call. You fetched him the cheque, chancing a glance at the clock on the wall. 6am couldn’t arrive fast enough.

To say you were surprised to see no tip when you picked up the cheque from the businessman’s now empty table would be an overstatement of great proportions. You cleared his table, noticing that the man in the baseball cap had also left. However, when you went to retrieve the empty coffee cup from his table, you were surprised to see the face of Andrew Jackson. You frowned, smiling slightly before seeing to the other few-and-far-between customers in the diner at this time.

For the next few nights, you didn’t see the mysterious tipper in the diner. You didn’t think much of it, though. And at 5.30am, you weren’t going to lose the very little sleep you had thinking of it any more. Only thirty more minutes and you could escape and get some rest; well-deserved, you thought. The diner was actually completely empty, surprising for this time. The last customer you’d had (a lady, typing away into a computer for about three hours, that went through around seventeen cups of coffee) had just left. She’d paid in coins, and given a generous tip, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed each individual coin into cash register unbearably slowly. You muttered under your breath as you dropped a couple onto the floor.

As you bent down to pick them up, the bell at the door rang. Heavy, dragged footsteps made you frown but as you stood back, you were pleasantly surprised to see a familiar baseball cap, less so to see fresh bruises and- was that blood?

“Are you okay?” you asked, throwing the rest of the coins into the register and slamming it shut, leaning over the counter. The corner of his lips drew upwards as he sat at the counter, folding his arms in front of him.

“Fine, Doll.”

You frowned and grabbed the coffee jug from the machine, pouring him a cup and sliding it over.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Okay.” He smiled again and you couldn’t help but frown at the purplish hues of his face, the blood peeking out from under his hat. “Are eggs still on the menu?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at his request but before long, a smile grew.

“Of course.”

He watched you mill around behind the counter, from the fridge to the pans to the shelves underneath the surface.

“Can I get you anything with that? Bacon? Hash browns? Mushrooms? Toast?”

“You’re okay, Doll. Eggs are fine.”

You nodded.

“How do you want them?”

“Surprise me.”

The silence was comfortable and nobody else decided they wanted diner food before six in the morning, fortunately. You were so involved in cooking that you completely forgot about counting down the minutes until your shift was over.

“Voila,” you placed down a place in front of him, not unaware of the way his eyes never strayed from your face. “Two eggs, over-easy. Because it’s my favourite.”

You grabbed some cutlery and a little sauce and seasoning rack and placed it in front of him.

“Thanks.”

You leant on your elbows, trying not to watch him eat but finding nothing better to do. He ate quietly and quickly, not bothering to add any extras. Just eggs and black coffee.

“What’s your name?” you asked. The way he paused didn’t escape you.

“Frank.”

Frank, you thought, definitely suited him.

The phone in the back rang; knowing it would be your boss, you offered Frank a smile and disappeared into the back. After a conversation that was not only unnecessary but about quite literally nothing, you returned to the front. Frank wasn’t there, he’d been replaced by Ulysses S. Grant. The bell above the door rang again as the girl on the day shift arrived. She shot you a sympathetically annoyed glance. You gave her a smile, thankful to be able to finally remove your apron and go sleep.

It wasn’t until thanksgiving that you saw Frank again. It was the night before and ever the gracious leader, your boss had let you leave early. Midnight. Lovely. So, you walked through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen warily, with your key shoved between your knuckles. You were about half a block from your house when you felt eyes on you. Your skin crawled. Walking down the alley, you heard footsteps behind you and the bleakest part of your mind hoped that you were only going to get mugged.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” a voice called out from in front of you. You swerved to the left, quickening your pace. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No need to run. We just wanna say hello.”

You stopped suddenly as a short white guy cut you off. He was smiling. You heard the footsteps behind you get louder.

“I don’t want any trouble-“

“Neither do we, Darling.” The man behind you was closer than you thought.

“Please-“

The man behind you grabbed your upper arm. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear, your ears throbbing.

With a strange jolt of adrenaline, you clenched your hand around the keys, jamming them into the man in front’s shoulder. He shouted as you pulled them out, reaching for you. Before he could reach you, the other man twisted you round to face him and he’s toothy smile. Mindlessly, you punched your hand into his face, feeling the keys sink into his cheek. He groaned and pushed you back. The keys dropped from your hand into a puddle on the ground. Fuck. You fell into the other man, hating the way his fingernails dug into your arm.

“You’re a bitch.” The one you had punched in the face spat, his cheek bleeding. The one behind you held you still – not from your lack of struggling – as the other approached. Your bag slid down your arm as you tried to rip your arms away; feeling his harsh grip eat into your arms.

A fist collided with your face and suddenly you were on the floor. A bottle smashed underneath you and you cried out, feeling the glass settle into the skin on your arm. You turned over, tasting blood in your mouth as your head swam. You could hear them talking behind you, chuckling to each other. You pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, your whole chest heaving. You reached for the rest of the half-shattered bottle, fingers skimming the glass surface. Before you could catch your breath, a hand gripped your hair roughly, pulling you to your feet as a cry left your lips. You’d managed to grasp the bottle and as your eyes watered from the pain in your head, you twisted round and thrust your hand into the figure holding you. He fell to the floor and you felt sick at the sight of the green glass buried in his shoulder, blood leaking around it and his eyes bulging.

“What the fuck?” the other man said, looking between you and his friend with angry eyes. You panicked, reaching to the ground to fish your keys from the puddle, hoping to get away. You didn’t get far before a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back. He twisted your arm until you dropped your keys again. Your cry was cut short when his thick fingers wrapped around your throat and shoved you into the wall. Your free hand reached up to your neck, desperately trying to peel his fingers away.

“You fucking slut.” You moved your hand from your neck to his face, pulled and pushing to try and get him to let go. You clawed at his skin before shoving your fingers into his eyes, pushing until he let go and you dropped to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. Your heart was hammering.

You started to crawl away; your knees were sore against the concrete. Again, you didn’t get far. The same horrible hand caged your ankle and suddenly you were pulled towards him. Your knees sang in pain as you collided with the ground again. You would no doubt have rashes when you got out of this. If you got out of this. He stood between your legs and a different kind of fear overtook you. With nothing keeping you there, you backed away, elbows wet from puddles on the ground. The other guy still hadn’t got up, hand at his shoulder. He was breathing though, which you supposed was good for you.

You saw out of the corner of your eye, behind you, a piece of piping. As he got closer, his eyes predatory and angry, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the pain you felt in your face, your knees and your neck. You grabbed at the piping as best you could, it spinning away from you as you panicked, still facing him. He bent down again to grip your ankle, dragging you once again, making you wince. He settled on his knees, hands groping up your leg. Your stomach dropped even further. You tried to back away but his fingers dug into your hips. You could feel his breath on your face and you tried to push him away but he shoved your wrist into the dirt behind you. You tried to kick but he knelt on your shins, pinning them down.

With your free hand, you pawed at the pipe, praying you could reach it as his hands strayed to your waist. With renewed panic, your hand finally found the pipe and before you knew it, you were swinging. It struck him in the side of the head; he jolted to the left. He was angry. So, you hit him again, burying into his skull. He sagged on top of you and all you could feel was your breath unable to escape your chest, his heavy body touching your skin. You rolled over. His hand twitched towards you. So, you hit him again. And again. And again. You were crying and sweating and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t stop either. Not when his blood hit your face, not even when you were sure he was dead. You only stopped when you heard your name behind you.

You spun around, wielding the pipe roughly, pointing it towards whoever was there. Your heart stopped a little when you saw Frank. His eyes softened at the feral panic in your own eyes. His hands were raised in surrender, showing he meant you no harm. You wanted to believe him but in his right hand was a gun.

“Who the hell-“ the man with the glass in his shoulder began before a shot rang out. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he pointed his gun. You looked down at the man, briefly noting the way he dropped to the ground. Frank’s hand disappeared behind his back. You watched him tuck his gun into his waistband, approaching you slowly. He noticed your bag on the floor, fishing it out of a puddle, and the streetlight glint off of your keys a good few feet away. He picked them up too.

“You’re okay, Y/N.” he said softly. You dropped the pipe, barely hearing the clang as it hit the floor. You could feel yourself shaking as he got closer but you didn’t move. You didn’t want to see the man behind you. The man you were sure you’d killed. Frank knelt down in front of you, his hands still raised. You absent-mindedly wondered why he didn’t care about his jeans getting wet. You were sure they’d seen worse stains.

“Can you stand?” he asked softly. Looking at him, into his dark eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t going to hurt you. So, you nodded. But then you tried. You felt like Bambi as you tried to make it onto two feet. You scrunched your eyes shut as you stood, wobbling.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

You nodded again but still winced as his hand rested on your arm gently. His tough, calloused palms were soft above your bruised skin.

“I killed him.” You muttered, over and over again as Frank pulled you slowly and gently into his chest. His arms surrounding you stilled your shaking slightly; you were grateful. You were confused when his right arm disappeared and his other hand pushed the side of your head further into his chest. It hurt briefly but when his hand covered your ear and another gunshot broke the silence, you silently thanked him.

“I killed him.” Frank said softly, his right arm returning to pull you into him. His logic was shaky but you appreciated the sentiment. “Where do you live, Doll?”

You couldn’t reply.

He stopped trying.

Without jostling you too much, he bent down and lifted your legs off of the floor. You were in a trance as he walked down the city streets, away from those men. You only sort of registered being inside, only taking notice when he lowered you to the ground. Still shaking, he didn’t dare move his hand away from your back. A jingling sound rang from another room, getting louder. You flinched. Then a dog appeared. It was a pit-bull with a too-large collar and a wiggle when it walked. A small smile lifted your cheek.

“Go away.” Frank said to the dog. The dog only barked back, coming closer to you with its wagging tail. Frank was about to shoo him out the room when you bent down, patting its head gently. Once again, Frank’s expression softened.

“What’s its name?”

Your voice was hoarse and broken and Frank barely recognised it.

“He doesn’t have one.”

You looked up at Frank then, with an almost teasing smile. You didn’t say anything though; just turned your attention back to the very grateful dog in front of you.

“Come on,” Frank said, lightly touching your arm, unable to tear his eyes away from the already forming bruises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You left the dog rather reluctantly, following Frank into a cramped bathroom. He coughed slightly. “If you take your clothes off and sit on the tub, I’ll get some first aid shit.”

You were slow to take your clothes off – a mix of embarrassment, pain and unsureness marked every movement. Frank knocked before he returned.

“Come in.”

You were sat on the side of his bathtub only in your underwear. You’d avoided the mirror, already horrified at your injuries you could see. Frank examined you from the doorway. You couldn’t help but feel conscious of his stare.

“I’ll clean up the worst ones.” He said, sitting on the toilet lid so he was level with your shoulders. “I brought you some clothes.”

You looked at the pile of large clothes on the floor and nodded. Silence fell again as he started with your legs, using a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt from the scrapes and rashes on your skin. You just watched his face, too sick to watch him work. Every time he moved to a different injury, he looked at you, his eyes soft, checking if you were okay. You appreciated how such a tough guy could be so gentle. You flinched when he moved your hair to look at the bruises on your neck, more than you had done when he’d painstakingly picked glass from your arm. That was the only time you looked away from him.

Then his hand rested on your chin, holding it in place as he brushed your skin with a wet cloth. You couldn’t tell what you looked like but from the way the cloth became more and more soaked with blood each time he pulled away; you didn’t want to know. When he was finished, he held your face for a moment longer, tucking your hair behind your ear and offering you a smile.

“Clothes are there. I’ll be outside.”

And with that, he left. You could hear the jingling of the dog’s collar again through the door and you imagined Frank bent down, petting him whilst he waited. Frank’s clothes were too big for you but you appreciated how soft they were. Before you could open the door, you caught your reflection in the mirror above the sink and winced.

You were bruised all over and your nose was still raw despite Frank’s attempts to get rid of the blood. You could also see the welt forming on your neck. You could’ve stood there for hours; thankfully, Frank’s gentle knocking pulled you from your reverie and you opened the door to see him leaning against the wall opposite, pit-bull sitting happily at his feet.

“You should stay here tonight.”

You only nodded again before he led you into the lounge. It wasn’t much, with only a TV and a sofa linked to a tiny looking kitchen. You sat down, smiling slightly when the dog sat next to you, eager for more attention.

“Do you want some food?” Frank didn’t strike you as a man with a stocked kitchen. “Coffee? Water?”

“Water, please.”

Frank searched a good five minutes for a clean glass before he decided you’d have to cope with a coffee-stained mug. When he got back to the couch, he found you asleep, his dog sitting on your lap. He smiled. When the dog noticed him, he wagged his tail ferociously but, you didn’t wake up. So, he decided you probably wouldn’t wake up if he moved you. The dog was hot on his heels as he carried you to his bed, placing you under the covers and sending his dog a dry look when he joined you.

“You’re lucky she likes you.” He said to the dog, casting one last look at your face before closing the door and disappearing to spend the night on the couch.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle imagine #frank castle x reader #the punisher imagine #imagine #writing

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vcidgalpin · 4 years

Text

Heart Monitor Pt 1

Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Eventually)

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 2819

A/N: Forgiveness n whateverrr, please can you comment if you are enjoying so know to continue.

Warnings: None?

Scott slips into his seat behind me and Stiles, leaning forwards over his desk,

“You're still not talking to me?” Stiles ignores Scott, fiddling with a pen between his fingers. “Can you at least tell me if your Dad is okay? It was just a bruise, right? Soft tissue damage?” Wait, his dad got hurt? I left before the mountain lion attack that everyone has been talking about nonstop since last night, “You know I feel really bad about it?” Stiles still doesn’t say anything. “Okay, what if I told you that I’m trying to figure this out? And that I went to Derek for help.” Without turning around Stiles finally replies,

“If I was talking to you, I’d tell you that you’re an idiot for trusting him. But obviously I’m not talking to you,”

“Y/N? Are you ignoring me too?”

“No. Not you,” I hear Stiles scoff and Scott squints his eyes, looking between me and his best friend curiously. The classroom settles down for the start of the lesson, and Stiles nervously clicks his pen a bunch of times. I can feel anger start to bubble in my stomach from the clicking noise, and I whip around to Scott to distract myself.

“What did he say? Derek,” From the corner of my eye, I can see Stiles’ ear turn to our conversation, listening in, but trying to be subtle about it.

---

“He wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry? Correct me if I’m wrong, but every time you do that you try to kill someone. That someone usually being me,” Stiles complains as we all walk through the school hallway,

“That’s what he means when he says he doesn’t know if he can teach me. I have to be able to control it,”

“Scott, I can help you with that, okay? You don’t have to listen to everything Derek says all the time. Just because he is older than me, and maybe knows certain things that I don’t know… Whatever- This is something we can do, the two of us,”

“Three,” Stiles buts in, clearly feeling left out of the conversation again. “What’s the plan?”

“For right now? We’re having lunch,” The boys look at me, confused. “What? I’m hungry.”

We find a table, and I go to sit down with the pair when a voice calls out my name from across the room.

“Y/N! Come sit with us? I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever,” Lydia waves her hand for me to come over, and I oblige. I sit by Allison, putting my lunch on the table, and looking curiously at the book she has out.

“Anyway, so- your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?” Lydia prompts Allison, a bored tone to her voice. I start to feel a weird pit form in my stomach, and my mind flashes to the other day with Jackson. Jackson - Lydia’s boyfriend. Oh God, I let my best friend’s boyfriend cheat on her, with me. I am the worst person on the planet.

“-Not just a big wolf. Look at this picture. What’s it look like to you?” She turns the book so the redhead can get a better look, and I tilt my head to see too. My eyes go wide at the image, and I hear Lydia’s heartbeat start to race. The Alpha. She remembers. “Lydia?”

“It looks. Like a big. Wolf. See you in history,”

“Wha- Lydia I just got here- and she’s already gone,” My nerves slightly ease, but I still feel sick to my stomach at what I did.

“Hey, are you okay Y/N?” Allison’s voice breaks up my thoughts, and I look to her, to see her big doe eyes watching me carefully.

“Yeah- I. I guess not really?”

“You wanna talk about it?” Her voice is warm, filled with care. “It’s about Stiles isn’t it?” I let out a breathy laugh, sort of relieved that she had no clue about my secret that was literally eating me from the inside-out. “Sorry, it’s just, Scott said you two were arguing again. I thought you two had sorted things out?”

“How did he even tell you that, you haven’t seen each other all day,” Allison waves her phone at me. Of course, they probably text one another about every little thing they see. I look over the room to see Scott looking at Allison over a book, and Stiles laughing at his awful attempt at being subtle.

“You like him, don’t you?” I whip my head around to Allison and quickly back at the boys. Scott is listening to this. I focus on controlling my heartbeat as I speak to Allison.

“We have things in common, he’s a good friend. But he does get under my skin, sometimes I can’t deal with him,” Allison just laughs at me rambling on.

“So you like him,”

“Allison! No- not like that, okay?” Shit. I heard the jump in my heart as clear as day. I look at Scott, and see him smirking at me. I swear to God-

The bell rings loudly, and I shove my things into my bag, running to catch up with Scott when I hear Allison call out his name. Scott, pretending not to hear, leaves through the doors and starts moving quicker, leaving me and Stiles still at the table. Allison walks past us, after her boyfriend, and I give her a shrug as she looks at me.

“I get under your skin, huh?” I’m gonna kill Scott.

“You know you do, you literally do it on purpose Stiles. Don’t play innocent with me,” He laughs loudly, and my body becomes less tense at the sound. Things are starting to feel normal again. “Stiles?”

“Hm?”

“Why were you so upset last night? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to it’s just-”

“-No, it’s fine. I just- I guess you were right. I’ve liked Lydia for years, and I guess my expectations were… unrealistic,” A small smile creeps onto my lips, “What?”

“Nothing. I just like hearing you say I’m right,” He rolls his eyes and pushes my side with his arm playfully.

“Whatever. So, what’s the plan?” I grab his sleeve and pull him out of the cafeteria, leading him to the locker rooms, stopping outside the door.

“Text Scott to meet you here, get changed and get your lacrosse gear. I am going to go find Coach,” Stiles still looks confused, but I run off before he can get another word in, “Just do what I say, okay?”

---

“Put this on,” I throw the black heart rate monitor towards Scott, who catches it easily.

“Isn’t this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?”

“Yeah. I talked to Coach about joining,”

“Really?” Stiles suddenly speaks, sounding overjoyed. I nod, a shy grin on my face.

“Coach uses on to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, so you are going to wear it for the rest of the day,”

“Is that coach’s phone?” I look down,

“Yeah… Well I didn’t know how to set a new one up so while he showed me where they were, I just… Took his phone and a monitor. Look, it was a necessary evil,”

“Why did you need to steal a heart rate monitor in the first place?”

“Well. Your heart rate goes up when you wolf out. Like when you play lacrosse, when you’re with Allison, when you get angry… So, maybe for you, learning to control your heart rate will help you stay human,”

“Like the Incredible Hulk?” Stiles asks.

“I guess-”

“I’m like the Incredible Hulk,” He smiles, losing focus in his own self-esteem.

“Well done Stiles, you’ve only gone and inflated his ego. Scott, shut up and put the strap on,”

Moments later, Scott is standing with his hands bound behind his back with duct tape.

“This is not how I planned to spend my free period,” Stiles and I pick up a lacrosse stick each, and Stiles puts the phone down so that we can see the heart monitor.

“Ready Scott?”

“No,”

“Remember. Don’t get angry,” Stiles drops a couple lacrosse balls down and picks one up with his stick,

“I’m starting to think this is a really bad-” Before he can finish, a ball flies through the air, straight into Scott’s leg. He whines in pain, and Stiles sadistically smiles, picking up another ball, nailing Scott in the shoulder. “Okay, that one hurt,”

“Shush. You should be concentrating on keeping your heart rate steady. Stay calm. Y/N, you try one,” I scoop a ball up in my net and lob it towards Scott, hitting him directly in the stomach. He doubles over, trying to catch his breath. “Nice shot,”

“She is a hell of a lot stronger than you Stiles, this is hardly fair,”

“Oh quit whining, Scott,” I say as I throw another, hitting him in the neck. Yikes, that can’t have been good. He stumbles, falling to his knees with his hands still behind his back. Stiles moves to get another shot in, but I stop him, pointing at the phone. Fast beeping rings out from the phone, the numbers climbing rapidly. A gravelly growl comes from the boy, and the duct tape rips with a swift tug of his wrists. “Scott? Calm down,” I slowly approach him, ready to defend myself if he changes. He looks up at me, forehead drenched in sweat.

“The angrier I got, the stronger I felt. Is that normal?”

“Yeah. The trick is remembering to not let that need for strength overpower you,”

“I can’t be around Allison,” He slumps down on the grass, “She makes me weak,”

---

For my second free period, I go and sit by my locker in the empty hallway. The library was ironically too loud to get any work done in, so this was a fair enough place to go. Engulfed in my book, I don’t even notice a figure stood next to me until they speak,

“What are you reading?” I glance up in surprise, and see Jackson towering over me.

“Oh, um. Jane Eyre,” I show him the cover of the book before looking down to continue reading. Jackson drops his bag and sits down; very close to me, might I add.

“You have a free period too?”

“No. I just don’t feel like sitting through Chem,”

“Sure. Um… Did you want something?” I look at him. He looks pale, nearly dead. The bags under his eyes showing through. Usually his skin looks airbrushed, annoyingly perfect, but now it looks decrepit and washed out.

“Actually, I wanted to talk. I know- I know that things happened between us, and that I just ran away, and have tried to avoid you ever since but, I just can’t. And it would be wrong of me to not say something, so I guess I just really had to get some stuff off of my chest. I’ve been a jerk to you, your other friend, and especially to Scott. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m serious,” Wow that was actually kind of mature of him, except for the fact that he didn’t really make much effort to remember Stiles’ name but, it’s a start. Maybe he really is dying.

“Are you okay?” I ask, not able to hold my tongue any longer. “You look kind of pale, and- I don’t know, you don’t seem yourself,”

“I’m fine. I just-” He trails off,

“You never told me what happened with Derek, or at the store,”

“I got a cut, on the back of my neck, and I guess something got into it or whatever, because since then, I’ve felt so sick. But I can’t go to the doctors, because not only will they ask questions, they might not let me play,”

“Can I see it? The cut.” He squints his eyes, scanning me, clearly confused. He shrugs after a moment, and turns his back to me so I can have a look. 3 wounds that haven’t properly healed yet trail down the nape of his neck. A werewolf did this. But they hadn’t healed, so that means he isn’t a werewolf, which I guess is a good thing. His body seems to be rejecting it though, so maybe he did get cut deep enough. But that would mean that he really is dying.

“Ouch,” I finally say, trying to break the silence. “That looks serious, I wish I knew how to help,” He turns back to me again and we stay in an awkward quiet state for a moment before he speaks again,

“You totally hate me, don’t you?”

“No. I hate myself. For what I did to Lydia. She’s my best friend, and I can’t bring myself to tell her what I did. What we did,”

“Please don't tell her. I know this kind of goes against my whole, ‘I’m a changed person’ thing, but I just… We got caught up in a moment, and we’re only human,” His emphasis on the last word makes my heart skip a beat. He couldn’t know, that wouldn’t make sense. How could he? “Please. It’s just- It’s been a long time since anyone has really seemed to… Care. I just lost myself, so please, don’t tell Lydia, okay? If it makes you feel better, it wasn’t your fault, alright?” He really does seem to care about his relationship with Lydia, even if he doesn’t show it openly a lot. My stomach still churns with guilt, but I nod to him, and start reading ‘Jane Eyre’ again. He leans forward to grab his bag, as if he is planning to leave. But before he gets up, he says,

“I just want to be friends. With you and Scott. I like you. Both of you. And I want you to like me. I want to get to know you two better,” He gets up, smiling at me, before leaving.

---

“One of you two, sit behind me,” Scott says to Stiles and I as we walk into Economics. The classroom is almost full by the time we get there, and Scott sits down first. I go to sit behind him, but Allison beats me there,

“You don’t mind, do you?” She asks sweetly, and I look between her and Scott’s pleading eyes before shaking my head, and sitting behind Stiles, in the next seat over. “Hey, I haven’t seen you all day,” She says to Scott, who is fiddling with his bag, trying to look busy,

“Oh. Sorry? I’ve just had a lot to do. I texted you earlier though,”

“Still, I feel totally disconnected from you… Anyway, I switched lab partners,”

“To who?”

“To you, dummy. Stiles can work with Y/N, and I can work with you. This way, I get an excuse to bring you home to study,”

“Oh…” He trails off, “I just… I don’t want to bring your grade down.”

“Maybe I can bring your grade up. Come to my place tonight. 8:30?”

“Tonight?”

“8:30.” All of a sudden Coach slams a thick book down on his desk at the front of the room.

“All right, settle down. Let’s start with a quick summary of last night’s reading. Greenberg, put your hand down. Everybody knows you did the reading. How about... McCall?” I looked at him, knowing he probably didn’t do the reading. Putting my hand up to get the attention off of him, I get a stare from Coach. “Y/N, I asked McCall,”

“Last night’s reading?” Scott says, dumbly, and I sink into my seat, embarrassed for him.

“No, the reading of the Gettysburg Address,”

“What?”

“That was sarcasm, McCall. Familiar with the concept?” The boy glances to Stiles, who smiles proudly.

“Very,”

“Did you do the reading or not?”

“I think I forgot,”

“Okay, then. Nice work. Because it’s not like you’re averaging a D in this class. You do know I can’t keep you on the team with a D, McCall?” I hear a faint beeping noise. The heart rate monitor. “How about you summarize the previous night’s reading? No? How about the night before? How about you summarize anything you’ve ever read? In your entire life,” Scott starts to get flustered, and the beeping gets quicker. “Anything at all. A blog? The back of a cereal box? The adults only warning on your favourite website,” Laughs can be heard from around the room, and Scott just stares blankly at Coach. “Thank you, McCall. Thank you for extinguishing every last flicker of hope I have for your generation. Next practice you start with suicide runs,” He sinks into his seat, and Stiles looks between Scott and the phone. Much to his surprise, he notices the BPM going down, and I glance down to see Allison’s fingers intertwining with Scott’s under the desk.

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#teen wolf #teen wolf series #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf season 1 #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles x y/n #Scott McCall #lydia martin #Jackson Whittemore #allison argent

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

Heaven

Prompt: #163 for @jinseunie – “Oh I didn’t realise you’re dead.”

jinseunie said:

hmmm 163. it seems like it could go many ways 👀

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: university au / friends to lovers / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1878

Groaning, you threw yourself down on Jinyoung’s bed, thumping the bed once and then you stilled completely. If you stopped breathing, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

No more bad grades.

No more botched confessions to Mark Tuan.

And definitely no more gaining weight when you strayed from your diet to binge on chocolate after point one and two occurred.

“And hello to you too,” Jinyoung dryly greeted, not even moving from his desk to check on you.

“I’m dead, don’t bother me,” you spoke from within his pillow, wondering if you tried hard enough if you could actually become one with the furniture.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you’re dead,” your best friend continued, closing what sounded like a book and then pushed his chair back. “The dead sure can move into my dorm room quickly. Did you even use the door or did you apparate here?”

“Not funny.”

“Nor is your interruption. What do you want?”

Scowling as you finally lifted your head out from his pillow, you were met back with a similar look from Jinyoung. You huffed indignantly. “Even my best friend can’t help me in my time of need.”

“I asked what you wanted.”

“Peace. To escape. Everything’s a mess.”

“That’s not surprising when it comes to you,” he agreed and you gaped at Jinyoung, sitting up and pointing at him.

“Don’t you have a conscious?!”

“I have a conscious desire to kick you out when I’m trying to study for my thesis,” he bit back and you flung your legs off the bed and stood up, waggling a finger in his direction.

“Never ask me for help again!”

“When have I asked you for any?” Jinyoung questioned and you opened your mouth, only to close it. You repeated this until a smug smile crossed his lips. “Because I don’t live in a dramatic world like you do.”

“Sue me for having more going for me!”

He glowered and you cringed. “Take it back or get out.”

“Okay, so fine. You’re stable, I’m not. That’s what you like about us anyway. When you feel like being reckless you can rely on me. And when I need grounding, you’re always there. So ground me. Or I might just float off to heaven right now.” Jinyoung smirked. “Are you sure you’d end up there?”

“Stop berating me and be a friend, Park Jinyoung! I need you, okay!”

“Fine.” Throwing a leg over the other, Jinyoung folded his arms across his chest and waited expectantly.

You took a deep breath and began to relay your issues.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried to solve them yourself first. You had asked for the extension on your assignment, given you had a family emergency, but that hadn’t been accepted. And like the evil witch she was, your lecturer hadn’t even taken into account the grievances you had faced and submitted alongside your essay.

She had left a less than stellar C- on the grading slot, the worst mark you had ever received.

Afterwards, you had misread the situation with your crush, blurting out in the cafeteria that you liked him. Mark had brushed you off politely, if rejection could ever be described as such.

When that was all said and done, you had eaten so much chocolate as you cried that you had felt sick for the entire following day.

Even if you told yourself you deserved better, you had concluded that it was in your nature to suffer like this. Another season of poor results both personally and academically.

You feared what it would be like when you left this institution and failed to get a job in the industry you wanted to, starving out on the street because you couldn’t even afford rent.

Jinyoung merely sat there when you had finished and then rolled his eyes. “As if you would starve.”

“I could!”

“You would mooch off of me.”

“Mooch?! I’m having a crisis and you play me like this?”

“You’re as dramatic as Jackson can be. Why didn’t you confess to him instead?” Jinyoung quipped and you groaned.

“You don’t take me seriously!”

“Because you don’t care to do the same for yourself, Y/N. You are acting like it’s the end of the world. You almost failed Math in high school but here you are studying in one of the best universities. Not only that, but you also received multiple acceptance letters and got to choose where you went. Not everyone is that lucky.”

“Only because of my creative writing. I’m on a scholarship, in case you’ve forgotten. A C-minus affects that!”

“So make a more rigid study program. You can recover with the next essay if you put in enough effort. You are good at working under pressure. Show that witch what you’re worth.”

“You think?”

Jinyoung sighed heavily. “As for Mark, how many times did I tell you he’s not interested in dating anyone? He merely hooks up with girls. And you let him hook up with you that one time and got it into your head you could change him.”

“Well, he was kind to me afterwards.”

“Who burns a bridge they could cross again if they need to?” Jinyoung retorted and your mouth fell ajar.

“Don’t eat so much chocolate next time. Go for a run or even a walk. Exercise will not only clear your mind but allow you to feel the same effect.”

“How does exercise comfort you?”

“One, your body won’t hate you for too much of it,” he pointed out and you nodded glumly. “And why didn’t you tell me any of this until now?”

“Because you told me not to interrupt you studying for your thesis.” Jinyoung’s eyebrow shot up with amusement as he gestured to your presence now. You laughed awkwardly. “I needed you.”

“Do you?” he asked softly, turning back for his desk. “I don’t know if you truly need me.”

“Who else is going to save me from starving on the streets?” you attempted loosely, noticing he didn’t laugh back. “Jinyoung?”

“One, I got a good grade on my last assignment but I never got excited about it like you do. Two, I’ve never confessed about how I feel for anyone because I worry they won’t like me the way I do them. Three, maybe chocolate isn’t so bad. At least you let your emotions out whilst eating it.”

“Why are you talking me up like this? I’d much rather be like you.”

Jinyoung smiled wistfully. “The feeling’s mutual.”

“You want to hook up with Mark Tuan?” you offered and Jinyoung rolled his eyes. Moving over to hug your best friend, you smiled encouragingly at him. “If you want chocolate, I’ll give you my stash. I’m on a no chocolate month.”

“You won’t last a week.”

“Give me credit, I could last two,” you corrected with a laugh, nestling your head into his chest. As his arms encased your body firmly, you sighed in content. This is what you had come here for. If there was one person on this earth that you knew could make you feel better and less erratic as he held you, it was Jinyoung.

You wouldn’t trade him in for anything this world had to offer.

Nuzzling his broad chest until you found the perfect spot for your head to rest, you smiled. “Jinyoung, you should confess when you feel strongly about people. Anyone would be grateful to have such an amazing human as their partner.”

“Even you?”

“Of course! I’m the luckiest person right now since I’m in your arms. I bet there’s a bunch of girls who would love to be in my position just waiting for their chance.”

“I don’t want them though,” he murmured. “Just you.”

“Well, here I am,” you answered, renewing your hugging position and sighing again with the comfort. However, Jinyoung stopped breathing and his chest turned rigid. You looked up at him. “What is it?”

“I want you,” he repeated, smiling softly. “I’ve never confessed because you always friend-zone me.”

“Wait, what?”

“I like you. Have for years. Who else would put up with how your mood swings from one end of the scale to the other? You’re crazy, Y/N. But you’re my crazy. Of course, I wouldn’t let you suffer because I’m always thinking about you.”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to reject me politely now?” Jinyoung edged, his dark eyes now removing the vulnerable expression that had resided there with his confession.

“Why are you always so slow when it comes to things like this?!” you complained and Jinyoung frowned. “I crushed on you so badly when I was ten. I even cried to my Mum about how handsome you were and how ugly I was!”

“You have never been ugly, Y/N.”

“And then you took Lisa to the formal instead of me in our first year at high school. Do you know how upset I was with you?! I had been hinting at you to buy a purple tie for it for three months all because my dress was purple!”

“You did?” Jinyoung started to frown.

You stomped your foot in annoyance. “And after finally getting over my crush on you since I’m now an adult and shouldn’t keep thinking of you that way, you confess?! Wow, why is my life like this.”

“I’m still trying to understand about you liking me first. That’s impossible. I know you inside and out.”

“I have loved you for years!” Letting him go, you waved your arms around excessively. “Why are you telling me this now?!”

“Will you not accept it?”

“Of course I will, but ugh, I’m just a mess! Back then I had the excuse of still growing up if you so much as liked me back. What can I give you now?!”

“Honestly?” Jinyoung breathed and shook his head, his lips spreading into a smile. Taking you back in his arms, he held you firmly. “Your heart, that’s what you can give me.”

“That’s all you want? What about an elegant partner who doesn’t disappoint you and isn’t clumsily making her way through life?”

“If I wanted all that, would I love you as much as I do?” Jinyoung teased and you thumped his arm as he chuckled into you. “Oh, I do want one other thing.”

“What?” you asked dejectedly and then blinked as Jinyoung’s hand curled around your chin so you would look up at him. You began to pout.

“Stop pouting and kiss me,” he instructed, leaning in to meet your lips. It wasn’t your first kiss; that you had given him in a game of truth or dare when you were thirteen.

But unlike that one, which had been a little more than a peck, this one continued until he had stolen your breath entirely.

Panting, Jinyoung pulled away and then rested his forehead on yours. He smiled. “Still feeling like life is hopeless and you need to give up?”

“Hm?” You blinked a few times and then smiled giddily. “You need to not let me go. I’m certain this time I will float away to heaven if you keep kissing me like that.”

“Even if you go there, I’ll be right beside you,” he confirmed, leaning in to kiss you again.

_________________

[Drabble Game Masterlist] | [GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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xbaepsae · 4 years

Text

the ebb and flow | part two

“It’s probably foolish to engage in this trivial bickering with Jeongguk, but you can’t seem to help yourself. He always manages to get under your skin—knowing exactly what to say to tick you off.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au, action

word count: 2.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: capture the flag but demigod style (aka kind of dangerous), language, the reader and jk arguing A LOT lol

a/n: & here is part two. takes place two years prior to the first drabble! also, as an fyi, the series timeline will be continuing to jump around a little throughout each part (to help give context to the reader and jk’s relationship!). xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the third summer – in which you don’t capture the flag

As a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood, you’re used to not having that many campers being around all the time. Of course, you enjoy the stillness of the morning—if you ignore the nymphs who have nothing better to do than sing their hearts away—and the smaller classes, but there’s just something special about the bustle of full cabins and warm campfires.

So, when the summer session finally begins, you can’t wait to see all of your friends again. Since you don’t get to venture out into the real world all that often, except to visit your dad a few times a year, you listen intently to everyone’s stories. Like your friends, you wish that you had super interesting stories about near-death experiences with monsters; however, maybe not having any is actually a good thing.

“I was just casually walking down the street when this Fury just attacked me out of nowhere,” Haru explains with wide, animated eyes.

Your eyes part equally as wide, taking in every word that drips from her lips. “How did you escape?”

Haru smirks, highlighting the glossy pink of her lips. “Charmspeak.”

Although charmspeaking is a trait that children of Aphrodite can possibly possess, there aren’t actually that many demigods you know who have the ability. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe you and Seokjin can both do that!”

Sometimes, you wish that you had special abilities like other demigod children. All your mother gave you was the innate ability to strategize and create, which isn’t that helpful all the time. You voice this thought out loud to Haru, to which she just scoffs like you’re an idiot for even thinking that.

“Y/n, that is a great skill—it’s super helpful when you face adversity and during capture the flag, which is tonight by the way.”

A beat of excitement courses through your veins at the reminder.

The first capture the flag game of the summer is always an adrenaline rush. Not only does it set the tone for the rest of the season, but it also brings forth some interesting alliances. After all, everyone wants a good track record.

From what you heard in your cabin earlier, Athena was trying to form an alliance with Ares; in a sense, it would be an automatic win. Battle strategy and brute force is always a good match in any given situation. However, rarely does Athena and Ares play on the same team—both cabins are too competitive for that.

“Are you going to participate today?” you ask, nearly laughing at the scrunch of Haru’s face.

“I mean, I guess so,” she shrugs, but you aren’t convinced. Aphrodite’s cabin usually doesn’t partake in rougher activities. “Now that I know I can Charmspeak, I want to try it out.”

Haru does have a good point. You really want to see it in action too. “Why don’t you join my cabin?”

“I thought head counselor was the only one who could make alliances?”

“I mean, I’ll mention it to Jinyoung if you’ll mention it to Sora?” You smile, and Haru agrees with a laugh.

Later that evening, before dinner, Jinyoung collects you all for a quick debriefing. He agreed earlier to your proposition about Aphrodite joining your ranks; however, you are almost positive he only agreed because he kind of has a thing for Sora. He just doesn’t realize it yet.

“Okay, gang…the plans with Ares fell through—as expected—but do not fear,” he combs a hand through his blonde hair. “Tonight we have alliances with Aphrodite, Apollo…”

You zone out as he lists a few of the smaller cabins of the minor gods, already thinking about the best way to approach the game tonight. From what you can remember about the games that Ares has led, their flag isn’t placed somewhere tricky—they’re not super good at that. However, what are good at is defense; they’re not children of the war god for no reason.

“…and last but not least, I snagged Poseidon’s cabin!” Jinyoung finishes with a triumphant smile, like he’s so proud of his accomplishment. Unfortunately, you catch what he says and your stomach sinks, an irritated sneer already stretching across your face.

“You’re joking.” The words pass your lips without a second thought.

Jinyoung settles his eyes on you. “Now, y/n, I know you aren’t too fond of Jeongguk, but—”

“He’s insufferable,” you argue, interrupting him. “After what he did to me last year, I can’t stand him.”

“It’s just one game of capture the flag,” Jinyoung tries to console you. “From what Poseidon’s head counselor already told me, Jeongguk expressed the same feelings when our alliance was announced earlier.”

“Good,” you scowl. “As he should, that little punk.”

Realizing that he isn’t going to change your mind, Jinyoung continues with his debriefing as you mull over the thought of having to be on the same team as Jeon Jeongguk. In the past, you’ve both been on the same team a few times; but that was before all the arguing started. Before all the pranks and determination to beat each other surpassed everything else.

At dinner, you scarf your food down as you burn holes in the back of his head. Namjoon catches your intense stare and knows that he probably should leave you alone. By the time your cabin’s flag waves to the sound of the conch horn being sounded, you’re no longer feeling as heated by the idea of Jeongguk’s irritating presence.

Until he settles beside you on the pavilion.

“Go away, Jeon.”

“Is that really how you should speak to someone you haven’t seen in months? Much less, someone on your team?” he smirks with sparkling eyes, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“I don’t give a shit about you,” you narrow your gaze on him, before picking up a sword and shield that suddenly appears on the table. “So, would I care about how I speak to you?”

You can tell that he wants to say something else, but Chiron’s voice stops him. “Okay, heroes, you all know the rules. Like always, the forest is fair game, and the creek is the boundary line. You can use your weapons. Don’t kill anyone—gods forbid—and only two may guard the flag. I’ll be around if you all should need me.”

As everyone picks up their own weapons, Jinyoung yells for your cabin and alliances to follow him to the north while the other team heads south. Behind you, you can hear Jeongguk following closely, but you don’t spare him a single look. Instead, you turn to Haru.

“I’m glad you decided to join.”

“Yeah, Sora was super excited when I told her,” she says, and you both laugh. “Of course, I might’ve added a little white lie about Jinyoung personally wanting her on the team. I’m sure it’ll be fine though.”

Haru looks ahead and your eyes do the same, catching the pretty brunette walking alongside your head counselor. “I agree.”

When Jinyoung stakes the flag along the creek, much to the delight of Poseidon’s cabin, he motions you towards him. When you’re beside him, he says, “I want you and Jeongguk to guard the flag.”

Your mouth drops. “Jinyoung, I always play offense. What the Hades?”

“Let’s call this, a test, shall we?” his eyes bright under the setting sun.

“Is this because I questioned your judgement on having Poseidon’s cabin join our team?” you frown.

Jinyoung sighs. “Like I said, this is just one game, y/n. There are still plenty of Friday’s left in summer. You can retrieve the flag another day.”

Even though you abhor the idea of having to defend the flag with Jeongguk, you know Jinyoung’s right—it is just one game. You should trust the plan he has today—even if it’s different from the one you originally had in mind. “Fine.”

As the game begins, you settle close to the flag, eyes sharp and body on guard. You also make sure to stay a considerable distance from Jeongguk, not wanting to get distracted by his big mouth or annoying attitude. However, this proves to be difficult because he can’t seem to take a hint.

“What’s your strategy today, miss goody-two-shoes?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.

Turning to face him, you offer a glare. “Be quiet and watch for red.” You’re referring to the other team.

“Don’t you say that Athena always has a plan?” Is he mocking you?

“Athena does,” you reaffirm, crossing your arms over your chest. “What about Poseidon? Bet you don’t have a plan at all.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Dad always relies on instinct, you know; going with the flow.”

You hated that so much. “That’s stupid and reckless. One should always have a plan.”

“Who needs a plan when you have water on your side?” And as if he’s trying to prove something, he begins to bend the water in the creek. The only reaction you have is to roll your eyes. Yes, being able to yield water is a beneficial skill, but—

“Jeongguk, you’re not always going to have water around,” you say, causing him to drop his act. “What in Zeus’s name are you going to do if you’re stuck in a fucking desert?”

“There’s water in the desert.”

“If you’re lucky.”

“Then, I guess I just have to be lucky.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes again. “You’re impossible. You would die in the desert.”

“What would you do in the desert?” he throws your question back at you. “I bet you can’t think of a plan off the top of your head.”

Jeongguk takes another step closer to you and for the first time, you realize that he’s taller than you this summer. In fact, he towers a few inches above you. When did that happen? Shaking the thought away, you proceed to answer his question. Little does he know, you’ve actually thought about this scenario; unlike him, you have a plan.

It’s probably foolish to engage in this trivial bickering with Jeongguk, but you can’t seem to help yourself. He always manages to get under your skin—knowing exactly what to say to tick you off. And in the heat of this back-and-forth, you fail to catch the movement within the trees. By the time your reflexes kick in, it’s already too late to have the upper hand in the situation.

From the corner of your eyes, Park Jimin lets out a battle cry as he suddenly leaps for the flag. For a son of Ares, he’s small and doesn’t seem like much; however, in the years you’ve known him, you know that he shouldn’t be underestimated. After all, he’s his cabin’s pride and joy.

“The flag is mine!” he yells, fingertips within reach of the gray flag.

“Oh, no you don’t Park!” you yell equally as loud, moving to step in front of him. Just as you bring your sword up, ready to force Jimin back, something strange happens. Suddenly, your feet are no longer on the ground. You’re being swept away—by water. Your entire bottom half is soaked. “Jeongguk!”

As your head falls underwater, you realize that Jeongguk used the creek in attempt to stop Jimin. However, why are you the one getting caught in the current? When you get out of this mess, you are so ending him.

After a moment, the water recedes, and you finally catch a breath. Jimin—who is completely dry, by the way—already has the gray flag in his hand and a triumphant smile is plastered on his face. Around him, his cabin begins to cheer and praise him. You’re irritated that the son of Ares managed to snag the flag from right under you, but you’re even more furious at the person who caused you to stumble.

By the creek, Jeongguk stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips—like he didn’t mean to almost drown you. You realize that the son of Poseidon tends to fuck up a lot in your presence because this isn’t the first time you’ve been drenched in water due to him.

“Holy Hera, what happened to you?” Haru suddenly appears in front of you, a confused expression across her face. “Why are you wet?”

If you weren’t so mad, you’d be shivering due to the cool evening. However, all you can see is red. “I am going toss him into Tartarus!”

By the murderous expression on your face, Haru doesn’t even need to know who you’re talking about. All she does is look at the son of Poseidon with pity as you begin charging towards him, probably with the intent of causing serious damage.

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carrottuan93 · 3 years

Text

Haven’t met you yet | Mark

Masterlist (1/4) | part2 - part3 - part4

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 2631

Foreword: You promise yourself you’re going to wait for the perfect love even if it takes forever but you’re already barging on it’s doorstep without even realizing that love has met you already in the first place.

It’s all about timing and seeking reassurance in all the right places.

It’s a chance you never want to miss and an opportunity that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

Learn to take risks and learn to fall in love along the way. Cause true love is patient and it’ll come when you least expect it.

Have you been good all year round? You never know what Santa has in stored for you this Christmas.

[Feel free to listen on the playlist that I made for this one shot :)))]

"Eunhee, I should probably take a break from your endless blind date setups. Nothing is working out for me, seriously." You heaved a sigh, slouching on the couch as you gave your best friend an exasperated look the moment you entered her humble bookshop. She's too excited for your love life ever since she and her long-time university crush Jackson became an official couple on your birthday when you celebrated it on Jeju last year. It was a really cold New Year’s Eve when you chose to reserve this romantic restaurant by the beach as the venue for your special day. Eunhee doesn't have any idea about Jackson's plan when you booked a flight to Jeju Island for a week despite the busy season. Since you wanted to play the fairy godmother role for the both of them, you saved Jackson from worrying and suggested that he'd do it on your birthday instead. And just like that, they spent the New Year countdown melting into each other’s puddle while greeting you a happy birthday. The things you do for your friend, if that ain’t salty for your part (it is, for being the third wheel), automatically elected you as the sole Queen of singles club after Neun’s grand exit.

Since their anniversary is just around the corner, they are planning to spend it once again on Jeju and Eunhee, for being the supportive sister from another mother that she is, will surely drag you with them at all costs since it has been your tradition to celebrate New Year’s Eve with your best friend. She is dying to set you up with someone so you won't be celebrating your birthday alone anymore.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought you and my friend Hae In will work out. What happened by the way? tell me about your date." She sat beside your spot after closing the shop and did the honor of pouring you a glass of your favorite merlot. This girl knows how to calm you down for sure. I mean she isn't your best friend if she have no idea that wine is your comfort drink. For whatever reason it is, you don't know why it helps to lessen your loneliness by drinking the night away. Maybe knocking you down into a deep slumber and finding yourself completely clueless the next day, alongside the horrible hangover can patch up the painful truth that you are still single up to this point of your life. In addition to the earthly and God-sent smell of neatly piled books crowding the interior of her paradise, Eunhee's bookshop is your go-to place at all times. You used to frequent this a lot during your childhood days where you first met her and together you shared the same passion and love for books and wine through all these years.

"He's too overrated for my type. Like I don't know why we need to talk about all of his exes and why his relationship with them didn't work out when we can sit and be comfortable with just talking about our interests, 'us' the present and not his past. He's a perfectionist per se and I don't like it when a guy shows disinterest whenever I told them about myself as some nerdy bookish girl who craves for a netflix kind of night compared to his ideal dream girl-next-door whom you can freely bring to a club the minute next." You look down on the red liquid in your glass, appreciating its refined and classic smell that is clouding your nostrils. You're way too excited to go home so you can finally sink on your newly changed bed sheets and savor the enticing smell of fabric conditioner which you cannot live without. You glanced outside the window, observing the couples walking together under the falling snow, as if Valentines day has come all of a sudden in the middle of December. Red roses are a popular gift for the ladies as you've observed and you cannot help yourself from wondering if someone will ever give you flowers on Christmas, particularly pink roses, which you really admire. You always dreamt of tending a bed of pink roses only for yourself because the sight of it makes you really happy. It's just unfortunate that they aren't in full bloom during this season that's why you can only wait for February to come so you could save the trouble of finding a lame date and just buy yourself a bouquet for Valentines. You can give yourself flowers and still feel like in a relationship with all the fictional characters on your novels. No one is stopping you from dating them in your mind, you thought.

“Ugh I can’t believe that guy. I thought he’s a good catch but actually a bummer for real. Don’t worry, I’ll choose better next time." She gave you a warm hug, patting your head as you lay your cheek on her shoulder. She released you and you gave her an 'I'm-okay-don't-worry' kind of smile. And you sat there for almost an hour talking about your other failed blind dates in the past week that all belongs in either Jackson or Eunhee's circle. You have no idea why none of them matched your personality. Either they are too wild or too boring for them to function as your potential boyfriend. No one could really captivate your specific taste in a guy. It's not that you are too picky and have a high standard when it comes to scouting a lover. You just have your own preferences when it comes to choosing someone whom you'll devote your precious time into. No relationship is perfect because everything is built out of flaws, misunderstandings, heartaches and drama but if you'll enter in a commitment at least choose someone who's worthy of that pain. You aren’t getting any younger and all you need right now is someone reliable, honest and trustworthy enough to not waste your feelings and emotion. You need a serious guy who will not take you for granted and who welcomes the idea of settling in the near future. At least someone with a nice job? Or a bearable attitude, outlook and philosophy in life? He doesn't need to be the most handsome or richest guy in the planet. After all, you always talk to God about giving you with someone who will really love all your imperfections and flawed nature. You always pray to the heavens above that maybe he'll cross the mountains and bring you the moon and the stars like they always did on the movies and in stories but you're fed with too much fantasy and began to think that maybe the guy for you was rather inexistent or an alien inhabiting a distant galaxy located in a million light years away.

"A break is all I need after all. I will be fine tomorrow at Christmas eve. Don't worry about me having a date on our dinner. I'll bring some macarons as an antidote for all things bitter for you and Jackson's couple party." It's your best friend’s first Christmas with her boyfriend that's why they are throwing a mini gathering for their family and close friends. You had this feeling that you will be the only one attending the party without a date so might as well go straight to the kitchen and grab a bottle of whatever wine you can get and spend the evening dancing on tipsy toes and the floor would be very much pleased to accommodate your drunken needs. But you will not gonna end up wasted on a party especially Eunhee will not be there beside you to take you home since you do not want to rob Jackson of his time with her. Their happiness always matters before you and that's what makes you happy, to see your best friend happy with the man that he really deserves.

"All right sweetcheeks. We'll not let you feel gloomy on Christmas eve. Good girls get a reward from Santa so you have nothing to worry about." She gave you a wink and clanked your glasses in unison as you both emptied the bottle of wine to your heart's content. You both agreed to watch a romantic holiday movie over a shared furry blanket and hear out your friend as she talked to you mostly of his boyfriend, as if you’ve read a book about the guide to 101 ways on how to fall for Jackson. Maybe the love bug bit too hard on your friend now that she really has the man of her dreams right on her fingertips, she can’t ask for anything else. Their love story is too underrated and you’re one of the living witnesses that a coin is never wasted on a wishing well. If you only joined Eunhee on her wishing spree every time you both pass by your University’s fountain of love, your coin bank would have gone empty by now. But you didn’t do it and saved all of your coins for yourself cause you really enjoy playing basketball in the arcades for fun. For all you can remember way back in college days, your friend is just one of the many timid girls who are cheering and admiring the ever-famous fencing athlete, business student and heartthrob, Jackson. You have classes together with him and that is how your job as a love guru began. You really deserve a raise because you did succeed on making them a couple. You could set up a dating agency and earn better than your current job for all you care. But amidst all the love advice that you gave to them, you’re the complete opposite of a matchmaker. Because love never finds your way despite making love work for the others. Love is sweet but a bitch most of the time.

If love finally came to Eunhee and Jackson, hopefully yours would come in a whirlpool, sweeping you off of your feet and rendering all the other love stories made in the history irrelevant. You love spontaneity and you’re up for the extraordinary. In fact, you already made a dozen of playlists on spotify and counting, awaiting to be dedicated to him. You may have weird habits, like using ketchup as a dip for your honey glazed donuts, and still act straight and sit the whole day finishing a book with your favorite espresso at coffee shops. You love taking midnight trips to the art museum and you wonder if he can appreciate the abstract the way it makes your soul come alive. You love travelling back to time and studying history and it would be a bonus if he’ll join you on the 3% mint choco enthusiasts in the whole world. And your list goes on and on and it’ll take a lifetime to introduce yourself to someone but you want to meet him soon. You can’t wait for that time to annoy the hell out of him and if he still chooses to come back after your endless nagging, that’s the time when you’re not gonna let go of him anymore. You know for yourself, you’re looking for an almost perfect individual but you’re ready to tear up your never ending list of your ideal guy if someone could really surprise you and made you want to look at the world in a different dimension. After all, an ideal can never be achieved in real life. You cannot make someone ‘the one’ but you can only search for someone and make them ‘your one’. Things may not come out the way you want them to be but things will work out if he’s your destiny. It might be hard to find the rarest form of love, which is true love, but you’re willing to go on a train trip bound to a destination you’ve never been to given that he’ll meet you at the end of the tunnel. Love isn’t hard. Love is supposed to be easy. You just need patience and it’ll come to you when you least expect it.

It's nearing 11 pm already when you feel lightheaded because of your wine intake and maybe due to the fact that your early sleeping schedule has been breached by tonight's unfortunate event. You bid goodbye to your friend despite her invitation that you should just sleep on her place and decided to call for an uber to save yourself from zoning out like a zombie because you can no longer walk straight with your clouded vision. Eunhee lives upstairs her bookstore because she manages her family's business when her father passed away that's why she isn't living with you anymore. You've grown to be independent now that you're living on your own after sharing the same apartment with your friend during your university days.

"Tomorrow night at 8. I'll text you the address. Don't be late, Y/n. Have a goodnight!” Eunhee tucked you up nicely on your seat and soon the taxi sped up passing underneath the city lights in the mood for the radio's yuletide playlist. You're a bit drunk to see clearly but you can recognize the faint Christmas lights flickering throughout the busy streets. In just half an hour, the uber came to a stop and you hopped off the cab as you made your way towards the entrance of the condo that you’re residing in. You walked past the concierge and romantic music is donning the halls screaming love is in the air but not for you cause it makes you suffocated. Inside the elevator you noticed that you'll join a couple on your way to a 5-minute trip to the 12th floor. You silently wished that nobody would enter in between floors so as not to slow down your fast lane to your unit or else it'll be another episode of 'You-are-single-fgds' slapping your face. Geez, you badly want a damn break but the couple is too absorbed in their own selves, doing whatever cringey couple thing it is behind you, so you chose to ignore their reflection on the elevator walls.

God spared you for that ride and luckily you reached the 12th floor in the fastest speed possible. You walked in a crazy zigzag pattern when you reached the front step of your door and you held on the handle to prevent yourself from falling directly on the ground. Your eyes are zooming in for the door lock as you punch in your keycode multiple times and still wonder why the door isn't granting you any access at all.

"The fudge why aren't you opening?" You tried all possible combinations already but to no luck, you are still denied. For the 10th time, the lock gave up on you and is now urging for a password reset when all of a sudden the heavens finally heard your prayer and the door automatically opened. You fell towards a pair of arms, as if on cue you are saved once again from falling directly on the floor. You grabbed on a pair of shoulders, and you felt like you've reached your bed already as your senses are welcomed with a lovely scent of fabcon, which for you is the sweetest scent in the world.

"Hmm. I can finally sleep now." You smiled the moment you felt safe and secured within the parameters of what you think of as your bed.

"Wait, you cannot sleep on my arms." It's too late for you to wake up because you're already dozing off to dreamland.

"Oh shoot. What am I gonna do with you?" You barged into someone's room and you haven't had the slightest idea of what you'll gonna do the next morning when you wake up.

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fandomrewrites · 4 years

Text

Season 2; Episode 5: Venomous

Hello all! Get ready for a very protective reader in this chapter. This chapter really shows why I absolutely adore (Y/N) McCall. She will do anything for her friends, even if that means turning into a complete bitch. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and as always constructive criticism is appreciated!

Season 2; Episode 5: Venomous

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,930

Season 2 Masterlist

I sat in Coach’s class beside Lydia in the back of the room. In front of us Jackson, Scott, and Stiles seem to be having a heated discussion. “Listen up,” Coach says as he walks in, “Quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you - like McCall - might want to form study groups since tomorrow’s midterm is so profoundly difficult I’m not even sure I could pass it. All right, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question.”

I pay little attention to the midterm review but rather squint my eyes trying to read the boys lips. The only thing I can make out is Stiles saying Lydia’s name. Damn I really I hate not being able to read lips.

“Jackson, you have something you want to share with the class?” Coach asks seeing the boy’s conversation.

“Just an undying admiration for my Coach.” I roll my eyes at Jackson’s statement.

“That’s very kind of you. Now shut the hell up.”

Lydia is now at the front of the room, writing the answer to the question. Or at least, that’s what she should be doing. Instead of writing an answer she has unknowingly written ‘EMPLEHENOEMOS’ over and over again.

Coach starts calling her name, “Lydia?” He pauses when he finally gets her attention, “Okay then. Anyone else want to try answering? In English?”

The class starts laughing at Coach’s comment. All Lydia can do is stare wide eyed at the class with tears in her eyes. I quickly stand up grabbing both of our bags and gently pull her out of the room.

I lead her into the closest bathroom and place our bags on the sink. I then check under the stalls looking for feet. I notice someone is in the last stall and quickly knock on the door. “Someone’s in here.”

“I know. Hurry the hell up and get out.”

Not even a minute later the girl steps out of the stall and glares at me. “Who do you think you are? I’ll take however long that I want.” She slowly walks to the sink to wash her hands.

Lydia is biting her lip, refusing to cry until it’s just us two. “You’re going to wash your hands and leave quickly before I throw you out myself.” I snap.

The girl scoffs, “You wouldn’t dare.”

I take a step closer, my eyes narrowing into a cold glare, “Do you really want to take that chance?” The girl looks at me then turns on her heel and moves out the door.

I lock the door behind her then turn towards Lydia, “Okay, it’s just us. You can cr or talk to me freely now.”

On cue Lydia starts sobbing. She falls into me, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. I quickly return the embrace and gently run my fingers through her hair, knowing it calms her down.

“Everything is going to be alright Lyds. I got you. I won’t let you go. I promise.” I whisper to her, placing a kiss on her head.

Once she starts to quiet down I whisper to her once more, “You know you can tell me if something is wrong? Even if it sound crazy, I’ll never judge you.”

She finally backs away from me slightly to look me in the eye, “I know. I just - I don’t know what’s going on.”

I nod in understanding and gently run my thumbs under her eyes to wipe away any remaining tears. She bites her lip then pulls me into another hug, “I love you so much (Y/N/N).”

“I love you too Lyds.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

I calmly sat down near Lydia in chemistry, not fully paying any mind to those around me. As more students pile into the class, Scott and Stiles grab chairs to sit on either side of us. We both throw them curious glances wondering why they rushed over to us and sat down despite the desk being for two people.

I lean over to whisper to Scott, who was sitting closer to me, “What’s going on?”

“Isaac and Erica are going to try and test the Kanima venom on Lydia.”

My eyes immediately harden into a glare as I subtly look over my shoulder eyeing the two werewolves. Erica was too focused on watching Lydia, but Isaac caught my eye and winked at me like he wasn’t planning on harming my best friend.

I scrunch my face up looking at Isaac slightly shocked by his new found confidence. I never really noticed him much before since he was always quiet, but I guess turning into a werewolf has a weird way of changing you.

I finally turn back to the front of the room as Harris starts speaking, “Einstein once said ‘Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; And I’m not sure about the universe.’ I myself have encountered infinite stupidity.”

Harris pauses as he looks right at Stiles. “So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you’re going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let’s see if two heads are better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski’s case, less than one. Erica, take the first station. You’ll start with - “

Before he can finish his sentence ever male hand minus Isaac, Scott, and Stiles, shoots up. “I didn’t ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down.” The hands all reluctantly drift down, “Start with Mr. McCall.”

“All right. Next two, (Y/N) you take the second table-”

“With Lydia?” I ask hopefully, an innocent smile on my face.

“No. You two will do well away from each other for once.”

“I beg to differ, we work exceptionally well together.” Lydia turns to me, an amused smile on her lips.

“Miss McCall take the second station and Isaac you can join her.” Harris replies, leaving no room for argument.

I grumble under my breath but move my things to the second table, Isaac joining me not even a minute later. Finally, all the pairs are together and the sound of glass vials clinking can be heard throughout the room.

“Scott caught me up with what you’re planning. Derek’s wrong. It’s not Lydia.”

“Yeah? How would you know that?” Isaac smirks.

“She’s my best friend. I know.” I pause, reading over the directions for the experiment. I can feel Isaac’s eyes on me, “If you do anything to her, I swear to God you’ll be sorry.”

I finally look back up to meet Isaac’s eye, “You know I’m a werewolf. You’re not very intimidating to me.”

I lean closer to him, “I don’t need to be supernatural to be persuasive or intimidating. It will do you well to remember that.”

The stupid smirk doesn’t leave his face, “You’re really hot when you’re angry.”

I scoff and open my mouth to reply but before I get the chance Harris announces that it’s time to rotate partners. Isaac stands, almost lazily, and winks one more time at me before making his way to Stiles.

This time I was partnered with Allison, “How’s Lydia?”

“Clueless about what’s going on.”

I nod my head, “Isaac didn’t tell me anything. But if it is Lydia, though I highly doubt it, they plan on killing her.”

“We won’t let the happen.” Allison reassures.

“I know.”

“Switch,” Harris calls from the front of the room.

Allison stand up, making her way towards Erica, I bite my lip watching Isaac sit beside Lydia. “What’s wrong?” I quickly look to my right, forgetting that I still needed to complete the experiment.

I instinctively roll my eyes at the sound of his, “Nothing's wrong Nate.”

“Please, we may not have talked in weeks but I know you. And I know that look. You’re worried about something.”

“Yeah well it’s none of your business. You lost your privilege to be concerned about me when you decided to cheat.”

“(Y/N/N)-”

I cut him off, turning to look him right in the eye, “(Y/N). Only my friends can call me (Y/N/N).”

Before he has the chance to reply Harris addresses the class, “Time. If you catalyzed the reaction correctly you should now be looking at a crystal.”

I gently pull out the crystal from the vial and slowly turn it. “Now, the part of this last experiment I’m sure you’ll all enjoy. You can eat it.”

“You can have it,” I mumble as I hand Nate the crystal. I turn my attention instead to Isaac and Lydia just a few seats away.

Lydia holds the crystal between her fingers. Just as she’s bringing it to her mouth Scott stands up, knocking his chair to the floor, “Lydia...”

He was too late though, Lydia turns to Scott, “What?”

“Nothing.”

I gulp, the venom didn’t affect her. But there has to be another reason. I know for a fact Lydia is not the Kanima. She can’t be.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Allison, Scott, and I quietly slip into Coach’s dimly lit office. Scott locks the door then turns to the three of us. “Derek’s outside. Waiting for her.”

“You mean waiting to kill her?” Allison questions, glancing at me.

“If he thinks she’s the Kanima? Then yeah. Especially after what happened in the pool.”

“It’s not her.” Stiles and I say at the same time.

“She didn’t pass the test. Nothing happened.” Scott replies.

“It can’t be her.” Stiles says.

“It’s not. She’s my best friend, there is no way it’s her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s something because of the bite, but she’s not the Kanima. She’s probably just immune to the venom.”

“It doesn’t matter. Derek thinks it’s her. So either we convince him he’s wrong or we figure out how to protect her.” Allison says, stopping any arguing.

“I don’t think he’d do anything here. Not during school.” Scott says.

“What about after school?” Scott just nods so Allison continues, “What if we can prove Derek’s wrong?”

“By three o’clock?” Stiles asks.

“There could be something in the Bestiary.”

“You mean the nine hundred page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that.”

“Lydia can read it.” All three heads turn to look at me in shock. “That’s how I recognized that it was Archaic Latin. We just have to tell her that it’s some weird new hobby. I just hate lying to her.”

“I think I know someone else who might be able to read it, so we don’t have to bring Lydia into it unless absolutely necessary.” Allison states.

Scott nods then speaks once more, “I could talk to Derek. Maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it’s not her.” The three of us share a look but reluctantly nod, “All right. But if anything happens you guys let me handle it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you can’t heal like I do. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Allison puts her bag on Coach’s desk and pulls out a crossbow, “I can protect myself.” She puts it down but Scott still doesn’t look convinced, “What? DId something else happen?”

“I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. If something goes wrong, you call me, okay? I don’t care if your dad finds out. Call, text, yell, scream, whatever. I’ll hear you and I’ll find you. As fast as I can.”

Allison nods. Scott continues, “We’ve got until three.”

He turns for the door, but pauses when he hears a snapping sound. He spins back, hand whipping in the air just in time to catch the crossbow dart from landing right in the middle of his face.

Stiles lowers the crossbow with a guilty smile, “Sensitive trigger on this thing-”

*_*_*_*_*_*

As school ends Stiles, Allison, Jackson, and I rush Lydia down the nearly empty corridors. “If we’re doing a study group, why didn’t we just stay in the library?” Lydia asks.

“Because we’re meeting up with someone else.” Stiles says, constantly looking over his shoulder, clearly worried about any of the newly formed werewolves following us.

“Why didn’t they just meet us in the library?”

“That would’ve been a great idea. Too late.”

“Okay, hold on-” Lydia tries to stop but Jackson grabs her arm.

“Lydia, shut up and walk.” I glare at the back of his head, hating how he treats her.

About a minute later we were finally in Stiles’ jeep. I was sitting shotgun while Jackson, Allison, and a confused Lydia were in the backseat.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Finally pulling up to my house, I rush out to open the door and usher everyone inside as quickly as possible.

Once everyone is inside Stiles slams the door shut and locks it. He then proceeds to flip the dead bolt.

I go to the back door to make sure that’s locked, missing the conversation between the four still by the front entrance.

I make it back just in time to see Jackson and Lydia walking up the stairs.

A minute passes before we see Derek and his pack standing in the street, watching the house.

I now have a metal baseball bat gripped tightly in my right hand as I peer out the window, keeping an eye on the Alpha and his Beta’s. Allison calls Scott to update him an get him here as soon as possible.

As the sun almost sets, Allison starts pulling out her phone. “What are you doing?” Stiles questions her.

“I think.. I think I have to call my dad.”

“They’ll probably kill her too.” I snap.

Allison looks at me wide eyed but before she can reply I continue, “Whoever the Kanima is, has killed people. You’re dad - Gerard - will not allow them to live.” I explain more gently, “You can’t call them. Scott will be here.”

Stiles looks down at the crossbow in Allison’s hand. “I got an idea. Just shoot one of them.”

“Are you serious?” Allison looks shocked.

“We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So let’s do it. Or at least give it a shot, right?”

Allison nods, a bit hesitant. “They don’t think we’re going to fight. If one of them gets hit, I guarantee they’ll back off. So shoot one of them.” Stiles finishes.

“Which one?”

“Derek. Shoot him. Preferably in the head.”

I turn to look at Stiles with my best are you dumb look. “If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can. And I seriously don’t understand why you want him dead do bad.”

Stiles sighs, “FIne. Shoot one of the other three.”

Allison looks out of the window, “You mean two.”

My eyebrows shoot up as Stiles says, “I mean three.”

Stiles and I turn to look out the window again, “Where the hell is Isaac?” I ask.

Just as the words leave my mouth Isaac grabs Stiles, lifting him off his feet and tossing him across the room.

I instinctively raise the bat up getting ready to swing, but Allison beats me to it raising the crossbow. Isaac is too fast though, he knocks the weapon to the side, making the arrow hit the ceiling.

He then throws Allison across the room. Before he gets the chance to turn back around fully, I use all my strength to hit him hard with the metal bat. Unfortunately it has little effect on him.

I raise the bat once more but begin to speak, “If you leave Lydia alone I’ll make out with you,”

He tilts his head and allows a sly grin to appear on his face, “That’s tempting, but Derek gave me orders.”

“What are you his lap dog?” I scoff.

Before he can reply Stiles and Allison are back up and attacking. I hear Lydia call from upstairs, “(Y/N/N)? Allison? Stiles? What’s happening?”

Allison ran to the base of the stairs to answer, “Get back! Someone’s trying to break in. Go!”

Not even a minute later, Allison runs upstairs to try and protect Lydia. I can just make out her voice yelling, “It’s here... Stiles, (Y/N/N), it’s here!”

That’s the last thing I hear before I catch a glimpse of Erica heading up the stairs and shortly after Scott entering the house.

There is a powerful roar, then we open the front door. Scott tosse Erica and Isaac out towards Derek and Boyd. Scott steps out onto the porch, closely followed by Stiles, Allison, and I.

“I think I’m finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott. You’re not an Omega. You’re already an Alpha. Of your own pack.” Allison, Stiles, and I share a look. “But you know you can’t beat me.”

“I can hold you off until the police get here.” Derek cocks his head, listening to the distant sirens. He must hear something else, something that Scott picks up too. They’re eyes move up, the rest of us following their lead.

On top of the roof, the Kanima looks down at us, it’s lips peeling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. It opens its jaw and unleashes an inhuman shriek, my hands flying to block my ears.

Derek turns to Boyd, “Get them out of here.”

Lydia then steps out of the front door, “Would someone please tell me... What the hell, is going on?”

Everyone around me looks surprised that Lyda is till, well Lydia. Me though, my lips tug into a smug smile, I knew she wasn’t the Kanima.

After this thought passes through my head I can hear Scott whisper under his breath, “Jackson.”

#teen wolf imagine #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

OK, March 8

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Bruce Springsteen

Page 1: Big Pic -- as part of Coach's latest campaign Jennifer Lopez posed with a supersized pink version of their new Pillow Tabby purse

Page 2: Contents

Page 3: Contents

Page 4: Chris Harrison gone for good? The Bachelor host's future with the show remains uncertain after his controversial interview with Rachel Lindsay

Page 6: Since the start of his career Justin Timberlake has endured his fair share of scandals but after welcoming his second son with wife Jessica Biel over the summer and celebrating his 40th birthday, he is confessing that he feels immense guilt about the past and he won't be making the same mistakes in the future -- Justin's done some soul-searching and accepts that he's wronged a lot of people over the years with his own terrible mistakes and he says he's still a work in progress, but step one has been to stand up and admit he's hurt too many women -- in addition to a boozy night out with his Palmer costar Alisha Wainwright in 2019 and his part in the now-infamous Nipplegate incident with Janet Jackson at the 2004 Super Bowl, Justin recently came under fire again due to the documentary Framing Britney Spears which showed him exploiting his breakup from Britney Spears to help his solo career -- Justin's learned from his mistakes and has a lot more sensitivity about the impact of his actions on other people and that's the big difference between the Justin of today and his old, immature self and that self-awareness was evident in an emotional statement that he posted apologizing to both Britney and Janet for the errors in his ways -- his words drew praise from his wife Jessica who says he's come a long way as a husband, a father and more importantly, a human being

Page 7: Wendy Williams is on the prowl for a new man and he's got to be husband material and she is ready for a serious commitment -- Wendy's been staying up until all hours of the night checking out guys online and on exclusive dating apps and she wants someone age-appropriate, fun, kind, independent and of course has no history of cheating -- she's feeling very optimistic and even buying new perfume and clothes and jewelry for all the dates she hopes to have once lockdown lifts

* Texas native Matthew McConaughey is seriously considering throwing his hat in the ring to become the state's next governor -- he's been putting out feelers to see if he's got sufficient support and if enough donors are willing to write checks, he'd mount an aggressive run in 2022 -- he's already gotten the thumbs-up from his wife Camila Alves and their three kids -- at this point, he needs to see an actual path to winning because he's not interested in just making a protest statement; don't be fooled by his aw-shucks attitude, Matthew means business

* Now that Keeping Up With the Kardashians is coming to an end, the hunt is on for a new family to replace the clan and one reality pro is poised to nab the prize: Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Lisa Rinna -- there's already been talk about Lisa picking up the torch and her family is camera ready, consisting of husband Harry Hamlin, and their daughters Delilah Hamlin who's dating Love Island's Eyal Booker and Amelia Hamlin who's dating Scott Disick

Page 8: Things keep going from bad to worse for Armie Hammer -- he was forced to drop out of his upcoming movie Shotgun Wedding with Jennifer Lopez after direct messages he allegedly sent to women in which he described himself as a cannibal and detailed disturbing sexual fantasies were leaked online -- Armie was also fired by his talent agency WME and now the disgraced star may get cut from his new film Next Goal Wins which has already been shot -- he's radioactive and everybody knows it and his completed but unreleased work is getting a second look as studios want to do damage control, and that includes another of his finished projects Death on the Nile where his part could end up on the cutting room floor -- he's a pariah now and it's hard to see how he's ever going to come back from this

* Jennifer Aniston has always had a spiritual side but these days she is taking things to a whole new plane -- Jen has surrounded herself with psychics and has been doing Goddess Circles with the same group of close friends for 30 years, but now she's taking courses to learn to heal herself and be her own guru -- BFF Courteney Cox has been a big influence and Jen's learned a lot from Courteney, who's had a long-term interest in mediums, astrologists and horoscopes, and she's trying to fuse it all together into her own brand of spirituality -- Jen's had a lot of time alone, which has only deepened her questions about the universe and how she can make the most of her life and she's determined to find the answers

* Princess Eugenie is over the moon after welcoming her first child, a baby boy with businessman husband Jack Brooksbank but now the new mom is torn about taking time out from her royal responsibilities -- Eugenie would love to take a long break from everything and focus solely on raising her son however she knows deep down how much she's needed, especially since Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are showing no signs of coming back -- as she weighs her options, Eugenie is looking to her multi-tasking cousin-in-law Duchess Kate for some inspiration because she's impressed by how Kate is able to juggle her official duties while raising three young kids

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars captivate in enchanting puff-sleeve numbers -- Bel Powley, Aubrey Plaza, Lupita Nyong'o

Page 11: Kaitlyn Dever, Lucy Boynton, Margaret Qualley

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Hilary Swank vs. Madeline Brewer, Bella Hadid vs. Devon Windsor, Alison Brie vs. Dua Lipa

Page 14: News in Photos -- Tayshia Adams and her fiance Zac Clark felt on top of the world when the visited the Empire State Building together

Page 15: Chrissy Teigen and John Legend were inseparable while out and about in Beverly Hills, Bill Murray and NFL player Larry Fitzgerald Jr. were among the many stars to shoot their shot during a charity golf tournament in Pebble Beach, Rita Ora performing on an episode of the U.K. show Dancing on Ice in Hertfordshire

Page 16: At the Australian Open Serena Williams came out on top during the fourth round, Bachelorette alum Jordan Kimball and fiancee Christina Creedon couldn't wait until they got home to enjoy Candy Pop popcorn's new Peanut M&M's flavor from Sam's Club in Houston, Heidi Montag spent the day hitting the slopes at Lake Tahoe

Page 17: Hailey Bieber starring in Beyonce's new Ivy Park x Adidas collection

Page 18: Brody Jenner had a blast snow tubing while shooting the second season of The Hills: New Beginnings in Lake Tahoe, Avril Lavigne stepped out with her new boyfriend Mod Sun for a romantic dinner in West Hollywood

Page 20: Justin Bieber looked like he'd just hopped out of bed in a sweater and checkered fleece pants in L.A., Robin Thicke in front of a piano in L.A.

Page 21: Steve Martin doubled up on face coverings on the set of his new project Only Murders in the Building in NYC, Michelle Obama on her new show Waffles + Michi, Cardi B spoiled herself with high-end goods during a day of shopping on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills

Page 22: Brooke Burke romancing with boyfriend Scott Rigsby on Valentine's Day, Lucy Hale accessorized her look with her newest rescue pup Ethel in L.A., Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon masked up for a snowy outing in NYC

Page 24: For Galentine's Day Vanessa Lachey snacked on macarons and sipped on wine in L.A.

Page 25: Bella Hadid alongside models Mayowa Nicholas and Heejung Park in Michael Kors' new campaign for the Spring 2021 collection, Hugh Grant stepped out for some fresh hair in London, Sofia Vergara kept it casual during a visit to a pal's house in Beverly Hills

Page 26: Inside My Home -- Katherine Heigl and Josh Kelley's Rocky Mountain retreat

Page 28: Marriage isn't easy especially during a global health crisis but for Kristen Bell and Dax Shepard divorce is not an option -- Kristen said she and Dax at the start of the pandemic were at a point in their marriage where they definitely needed a little therapy brush-up and every couple of years they're being very antagonistic towards each other and they don't want that so they go back to therapy and figure out how they can serve their team goal better and it's been incredibly helpful and even in the toughest times they always have each other's back and they're committed to being each other's biggest support systems -- while their relationship may never be perfect, they're happy and love each other and that's what matters most

Page 29: Now that Tom Brady has won his seventh Super Bowl with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, he has set his sights on the next prize: baby No. 3 with wife Gisele Bundchen -- they've been telling friends they hope to make an announcement by summer at the latest and Tom and Gisele have been super loved-up since leaving Boston and moving to Florida after the QB signed on with the Bucs and the change of scenery has worked wonders on their love life and put them in baby-making mode -- the duo, who recently bought a $17 million spread on Miami's exclusive Indian Creek Island, plan to build a luxury mansion there complete with a nursery and they hope to be all settled in when the new arrival comes -- they've never felt healthier or been happier

* Aaron Rodgers looked positively giddy when he revealed he had a fiancee, Shailene Woodley at the NFL Honors, but the QB is dreading the next step: bringing her home to meet his parents because it's no secret that Aaron's been estranged from them for years and the last thing he wants is for Shailene to get caught up in the drama -- Shailene wants Aaron to clear the air with his folks, but he's not ready to do that and he doesn't want to bring Shailene into a toxic environment

* It's only been two years since Miranda Lambert married Brendan McLoughlin but she's already itching for some alone time -- she's headed to Texas in April for her first concert in over a year and she's told Brendan he shouldn't come because it will be all work and no play but she really wants to get away from him for a while and after the pair's recent road trip together, Miranda is desperate for some space -- sometimes Miranda feels like she's living with a baby because Brendan whines and complains about life on her farm

Page 30: Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker's romance is heating up fast, so much so that she's practically handed over the keys to her Calabasas estate and she loves having Travis sleep over and sometimes he'll stay the whole weekend -- he gets along famously with her children and Travis has been a friend of the family for years, so the kids have pretty much known him their whole lives and they'll do fun stuff together like hiking or playing video games and Travis loves making breakfast and showing off his pancake-flipping skills --Travis is spending so much time at Kourt's place that he's moved a bunch of his stuff in to make it easier for his kids Landon and Alabama with ex Shanna Moakler to visit him there -- everyone's convinced they'll be living together full-time before you know it

* Prince Harry and Meghan Markle were met with a flurry of well-wishes after they revealed they're expecting baby No. 2 -- the couple decided to wait until Meghan was safely into her second trimester to share the news and they only told a handful of family members before the public and they wanted to cherish this secret for as long as they could -- Harry and Meghan have been nesting at their Montecito mansion and have been busy prepping the nursery and making sure it's eco-friendly with energy-efficient lighting and they're keeping it as plastic-free as possible

* Love Bites -- Clare Crawley and Dale Moss reunited, Kit Harington and Rose Leslie welcomed a baby boy, Paris Hilton and Carter Reum engaged

Page 32: Cover Story -- Bruce Springsteen's private world -- he's an open book in his songs, but here's Bruce's untold story of his struggles with depression and regret -- he still has dark thoughts from time to time but therapy and medication have helped a great deal

Page 36: Stars' Cheating Confessions -- sometimes all you can do is beg for forgiveness; these celebs have all had to plead their case -- Donny and Debbie Osmond, Jude Law and Sienna Miller, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith

Page 37: David Letterman and Regina Lasko, Dean McDermott and Tori Spelling, Kevin Hart and Eniko Parrish

Page 40: Interview -- Elizabeth Olsen -- the Avengers star dishes about getting witchy again for Marvel's mind-bending WandaVision

Page 42: Golden Girls -- how these Golden Globes nominees get their award-worthy figures -- Anya Taylor-Joy, Nicole Kidman, Lily Collins

Page 43: Kaley Cuoco, Michelle Pfeiffer, Amanda Seyfried

Page 44: Aadila Dosani's vegan recipe for Chickpea and Potato Soup

Page 46: Style Week -- Ashley Graham is the new global brand ambassador for self-tanning label St. Tropez

Page 48: What's Hot Right Now -- create a naturally gorgeous, flushed look with fashion designer Jason Wu's namesake makeup collection

Page 49: Haute hippie retro jeans -- take a trip back to the '70s with Revice Denim's ultra-cool capsule, Los Angeles Lovers -- Delilah Belle Hamlin

Page 50: Flower Power -- floral prints are spring's hottest trend -- rock the pretty blooms for a fresh, boho-chic look -- Kaia Gerber

Page 52: DIY Blowout -- these foolproof finds deliver impeccable hair right at home -- Drew Barrymore

Page 54: Entertainment

Page 55: Q&A with Mary Fitzgerald of Selling Sunset

Page 58: Buzz -- after months of playing it coy, these celebs confirmed their relationships on Valentine's Day -- Scott Disick and Amelia Hamlin

Page 59: Vanessa Hudgens and Cole Tucker, Sharna Burgess and Brian Austin Green, Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker, Kendall Jenner and Devin Booker

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Halsey on not conforming to conventional beauty standards, Anderson Cooper on coparenting with his ex, Ashley Graham on the importance of self-care, Kate Winslet on feeling like a fish out of water in Hollywood

Page 61: Tom Holland on the plot of the next Spider-Man flick, Mila Kunis joking about keeping her family entertained during quarantine, Drew Barrymore when asked if she's ever been skinny-dipping, Madelaine Petsch on playing a teen in Clare at 16

Page 62: Horoscope -- Pisces Lupita Nyong'o turned 38 on March 1

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Riz Ahmed

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

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an interview with @osleyakomwonkru (she/her) what are you working on right now? Several things! I’m the queen of many WIPs (let’s not even talk about the ones that are languishing in the limbo of old fandoms). But my priorities right now are my own Season 7 and the promptfills that I’m doing for Bellarke Writers for BLM (but not for Bellarke). I started working on my Season 7 fic last summer as soon as 6x13 aired because I couldn’t wait nine months to find out what happened to Octavia, I needed to answer that myself. So I spent months writing and planning and researching and compiling lore so that I could answer that question myself. Started posting it episode by episode at the beginning of 2020. Then pandemic got in the way of me finishing it before the official season 7 started airing, so right now the first 9 episodes are up, and the last 7 will be up after the official season 7 is finished. So if you want a season 7 that has a bit less planet hopping, more Bellamy, more TALKING and characters taking the time to sort through issues rather than the season 7 we’ve been having, then please check it out! what’s something you’d like to write one day? I’d like to actually finish and publish the myriad of original works I have in a state of perpetual incompleteness. I’ve been writing stories ever since I could hold a crayon, and I’ve never stopped. But the past decade I’ve been focused on a lot of fanfic. what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? Well, I love all of my word-babies, and I’m super proud of my S7 fic as mentioned above, but outside of that series, the fic that holds a special place in my heart is “fly away to heal my broken spirit (there might be peace on the other side)”, which is an Octavia-centric character study written between seasons 5 and 6, whereupon landing on the new planet, Octavia takes off on her own and takes the time she needs to heal from the pain of her past. why did you first start writing fic? Well, the reasons why I first started writing fic are perhaps different than what they are now. I started writing fic when I was a child, when I didn’t even know it was something other people did, let alone something people shared with one another (this was back in the Days of Yore before the Internet, so while now I know fanfic was going on at that time, it wasn’t easily accessible). The longest fic I’ve ever written was when I was a preteen, and it was 943 pages, handwritten, and it was a self-insert RPF where I became best friends with Alanis Morissette. Back then, I wrote fic because I wanted more stories, more adventures with the characters I loved, and in the case of that self-insert, I wanted to be a part of those adventures. But now I write fic for different reasons. Now I write mostly because I want to address the parts that canon leaves out. The parts that aren’t “exciting” for a TV audience, because they’re not full of flashy explosions and fights and whatnot, but that I want to see because they’re a vital part of the character journeys - the talking, the healing, the things that should be addressed so it makes sense to go from A to B in the storyline but tend to be swept under the rug. I’m in a fandom for the characters, so I want to see them and their thoughts and feelings addressed properly and not just get shuttled from one Plot to the next. So as this applies in this fandom, that mostly revolves around letting characters take the time to talk to each other, to sort out their issues, stuff like that. Because after everything they’ve been through, they need this! what frustrates you most about fic writing? Too many ideas. I have so much I want to write, but I also don’t want to abandon projects so it hurts to have to put ideas on the backburner. Also - middles. I often know how I want a story to start and how I want it to end, but the part in the middle is always a bit fuzzier. Middles are hard. what are your top five songs right now? Lunatica - Heart of a Lion (perfect Octavia song!) Icon for Hire - Supposed to Be (also a good Octavia song) Beth Crowley - Don’t Think Just Run (ditto) Really Slow Motion - Unbroken (same) Miley Cyrus - Mother’s Daughter (Hope’s theme song) what are your inspirations? Music is a lot of my inspiration. I have an entire Octavia playlist, and Spotify is really good at recommending more songs to go on it. Spotify has the only useful Internet algorithm. Also, just those moments in canon where you go WTF and you’re like… I need to fix this. Or, “there has to be more than just this”. A lot of scenes demand more than what we saw on screen, so I’m here to provide.

what first attracted you to Octavia? what attracts you now? I started watching t100 between seasons 4 and 5. The specific reason why I started watching was Chai Hansen (Ilian), because he’d just been cast on Shadowhunters, and he was hot, so I went looking to see where else he’d appeared and happened upon this show. So I watched some of his scenes on YouTube, and was intrigued by this chick (Octavia) he was with. Then the next scene I saw was Octavia winning the Conclave in 4x10 and making her speech of unity, and I was sold. I was all “I need to know who this girl is and how she got here”.

So I went back to the beginning, and yes, she was the one. I have A Type when it comes to fandom favourites, and she fits it to a T - the misunderstood badass with a tragic past and a dark side. Octavia Blake, Regina Mills, Magnus Bane, Eliot Spencer, James “Sawyer” Ford, Juliet Burke, they all fit that same archetype.

I just love Octavia so much, because she’s been through so much and she’s still standing and she’s grown and changed and evolved and it’s all been beautiful. Even the dark parts. Especially the dark parts. Because without them she wouldn’t be who she is now. I hate it when people say she’s “back to her old self” now. No. No she’s not. She’s a stronger, wiser and more mature version of herself, and she wouldn’t be that without her darkness or without her healing. I could go on more, but for that you can just go to my blog and read all of my meta. BESIDES Octavia, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? Uhhh… well, Octavia’s kind of my brand. So everything does kind of revolve around her. But I also adore Echo, Diyoza (sob!) and Hope, and I’m so glad that canon Hope is like the Hope I wrote in my S7 fic - fearless, reckless, committed to her family and questioning what makes otherwise sensible women willing to die for Bellamy Blake. I ship Niytavia, and a fair amount of my Niytavia fic is written from Niylah’s point of view rather than Octavia’s. I’ve also written some bunker-era Mackson as best friends to Niytavia, but Miller being a jerk in season 6 has kind of soured that ship for me. But after 7x10 I’m hopeful that he’ll pull his head out of his ass so that I can like that ship again, because Jackson is still all kinds of lovely.

But if we REALLY need to depart from the Octavia sphere, then Murphy’s my man. I don’t have a horse in the race as to which ship he’s a part of, because I can low-key ship him with just about everybody (even Octavia).

why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? Because I wanted to do something to contribute to the BLM movement, but since I live in a tiny northeastern European country and have no money, going to protests or making donations myself isn’t something I can do. But I can write words so other people donate money, so here I am!

what’s your writing process like? I don’t have a set process. Sometimes a story just FLOWS and I’ll get it done in a few hours. Sometimes it involves a lot of throwing stuff at the wall and hoping it sticks and days and weeks of contemplation and starting to write and hoping it’ll come together at the end. Same applies regardless of what I’m writing, be it my own idea or someone else’s. what are some things you’d like to recommend? My partner in crime in plotting my S7 epic, who I’ll message at 3 in the morning looking to brainstorm ideas, @easilydistractedbyfanfic . You want Murven? They’ve got you covered. Also, tacos, cheesy pasta, and sushi. Because food is delicious and I’d like to be in a country where I can get tacos again, so if you’re in a position to be able to eat tacos, eat tacos. They’re not available everywhere in the world. You can find @osleyakomwonkru here on Tumblr, or you can find her on AO3 here. If you’d like to request a fic written by her, you can do so via @bellarkefic-for-blm.

#bellarkefic4blm #octavia blake #illian #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellarkefics for blm interview

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kpopchangedme · 4 years

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All I Want For Christmas is: The Maple Goddess [Youngjae]

Love is in the air at the Christmas Market when you finally get to spend some quality time with the cute guy from the ice skating rink.

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: SFW - Holiday Season - Romance - First Date - shy!jae || [One Shot]

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

GOT7 | M.list

You’re glorious today, as usual. Your red winter coat brings out the colours of your cheeks, even from the other side of the alley, you're glowing. Youngjae rolls his thick sleeve to peek at his watch, almost an hour to go before his first break… Sniffing, he observes from his fortune hideout as you explain something to rare morning onlookers, waving your hands around energetically. When he's sitting down behind his booth, he's mostly concealed by the counter, hardly able to see you. In the end, they buy something from the stand, how could they not? No one can resist a smile like yours, and you grin every time you make a sale. A series of aggressive knocks on his wooden counter forces him out of his daydream. He stands up from his chair in a hurry, taken by surprise.

“Size twelve.” A boy narrows his eyes haughtily and his four friends snicker behind him. He's a teenager – he was probably in diapers when Youngjae finished high school – but still, he has nothing but contempt for the older guy. The Ice Skating Rink promised to be a romantic mystical workplace with its Christmas lights and view on the giant decorated tree, but it turned out to be a damn babysitting job.

Don't push your friends... No headsets! I told you, this is your last warning...

“Then it's size eleven,” Youngjae blinks, quickly catching on, “and 10 bucks.”

“The raffle guy said you'd make us a discount!” They immediately start to whine in protest, and Youngjae bites the interior of his cheek to remain polite. Grabbing the frame of his booth, he bends through the opening to glare at his ‘friend’. Bambam shrugs unapologetically, not looking exactly contrite enough to his liking. He's been sending his victims to the rink for discounts far too often this past month.

“How much do you have left?”

Sighing, Youngjae bargains with the group, ending up renting all of them skates at half the value. How are other businesses supposed to make a living if Bambam keeps scamming kids out of their allowance? He cusses lowly, picking up 5 pairs of ice skates from the tablets behind him and handing them. It's his first year working at The White Miracle Market and definitely his last. He thought it would be a great opportunity to earn some extra cash for his Christmas gifts, but that's not how it went. Instead, he ended up spending his days freezing to death, quarrelling with kids, and spending all of his money on the job.

Work with us, they said…

Youngjae shouldn't have let himself get convinced by the guys. He's the only one that ended up in a stall with a defective heater and… Ok, fine, admittedly he has the greatest view of all time… Raising his head to your booth facing his, he forgets for a brief second he's still standing up and hits the large metal radiator hanging above. Yelping, he reaches for his head with both gloves, for once thankful the thing isn't working at full capacity. Through his tears, he glares at the heater with rancour.

It will be fun, they said…

Carefully sitting back, Youngjae loses the next half-hour reluctantly monitoring the skating little monsters through his left side window. He doesn't even find it in himself to scold them when they start throwing ice at each other. One could lose an eye or two for all he cares.

___

Today is a bit of a slow start. It could come as a surprise considering there are only a few days left before Christmas, but it's often like that during the day. People come to the Market for enchantment and a chaotic array of wooden stalls doesn't quite reach its full magical effect before sunset. Even with the current beautiful snow falling in slow motion from the gray sky. Of course, your booth isn't like the other boring ones, you don't rely on fir ornaments, red velvet bows or fairy lights to sell. Undeniably, the Maplesque!’ strongest asset is the alluring smell of maple syrup always cooking in the large pan.

“Ouch,” Emma giggles, making you raise your head from the wood bucket of clean snow you're preparing, “that outta hurt!”

“What?” Whipping around to see what she means, you wince. Cute guy from the ice skating booth is holding the top of his head with both hands. Above him, his stall's radiator is wobbling. You hope he didn't burn himself. “Don't stare,” mortified by the secondhand embarrassment, you click your tongue, forcing your sister's eyes down.

“Why not?” She smirks, leaning above the counter and making the display of leaf-shaped lollipops tilt dangerously. “He stares at us all day.”

“Does. Not.” You lie, pushing the rack back to safety and Emma rolls her eyes. “Stop being delusional and go check the pan's temperature.”

“In case you didn't notice…” She stretches both arms open towards the empty snowy alley like she's the messiah. “No one buys your taffy before supper, Ô dear Maple Goddess.”

“If you're unhappy, you can go home.” Grumbling, you round the booth, done with your taffy-on-ice tempting display. Walking by the pan, you check it yourself, pleased to find the temperature of the syrup is climbing slowly.

“There's no ridiculously hot guys at home.” Emma sing-songs and you look at her, dumbfounded. “The White Miracle might be cold but I swear, there's no better place to be in town…”

“What?” Crouching, you plug the hot chocolate machine. Is this why she comes to the Market even though she never lends a hand?

Your little sister has been obsessing a lot about boys lately, maybe she's at that age. In previous years, she never cared to visit. Your parents were the ones running this booth while you helped out as much as you could. It's the first year you fully took over so they could stay on the farm, handling most of the crafting and shipping. This Christmas Market is a tradition, sort of a mandatory one when it’s the whole family business. Holidays are always very busy, right before the maple season starts.

“Are you dumb?” Emma snorts in disbelief, “Blind? Every guy here is sexier than the other. It's like they are fighting every day to win me over. There's the toymakers pair, very kissable under potential mistletoe; the steamy ticket seller, I personally find his constant frowning highly attractive; there's Santa, help me Lord-”

“I guess I’m too busy to notice,” you interrupt unimpressed and check the display one last time to see if everything is in order, “someone has to work our booth.”

“Well, hot rental-guy notices, rental-guy isn't blind. Everyone at TWM knows he's desperately pining over you!” You turn to her – acting lost – and she rolls her eyes once more in desperation. Without another word, Emma raises her glove the rink’s way, unsubtly pointing to the man in his ice skating booth. Gasping, you jump forward to pull down her arm, feeling your whole face flush in shame. You're acutely aware of how much he looks your way, there's no need to make it more obvious. Really, how bold can a fifteen years old get?

“Jesus, Emma,” heaving you hold her arm down tightly, “we don't point at people!”

She tugs at it, but you don't let go. “Oh look, he's staring again!” She waves hello his way and you let her go in horror. Urgently spinning around only to discover that rental-guy isn't looking your way. Not at all, in fact, he seems rather absorbed by the contemplation of the kids skating on the rink. “You should see your face right now!” Emma cracks up, sinking back into her chair with a book and you kick her leg, fuming. You swear sometimes she still acts like a 10 years old. "Admit it, you like him back, he's cute...”

You don't dignify this with an answer, dropping your chin into your open palms, bent in two, elbows resting on the counter. Cute? Ice skating guy is cute alright. You aren't as blind as you'd want her to believe. You've been looking forward to his breaks for an entire month.

You asked you noted; Choi Youngjae, your age, first year working at the White Miracle, single… Very unsubtly crushing on you and talking about it to a lot of people.

He's off in around 50 minutes; which means he’ll come by to pick two maple hot chocolates just to see you. You hate to admit, but he is at his cutest when he's a blushing mess for you.

In a parallel universe, one where the Holiday season truly is magical… You'd both do a lot more than stare.

He'd actually ask you out, maybe he'd spill his drink on his coat while doing so, but you wouldn't mind. You wouldn't mind because you'd be busy being nervous yourself, smoothly agreeing to anything. You like him too, a lot. How could you not fall for the guy who gave you the most flattering nickname to ever be?

Not Farm-Girl like back when you were in high school.

Maple. Goddess.

You're an OG of this Christmas Market, so of course, everyone told you about him. The White Miracle’ staff is like a second family, you were made aware of his infatuation within a week of him starting here. Even the guy at the Mulled Wine stall knew about Youngjae and you and he's a loner that keeps to himself.

You bite the interior of your cheek, sneaking another glance at the rental booth.

Maybe you should just ask him out yourself. It's not like waiting on him is doing any good and Holiday season is almost over...

___

To be honest, Youngjae doesn't feel particularly excited at Jackson showing up for his break. It's suspiciously that he considers his friend when his face pops over the counter to gaze down at him. By this point, Youngjae was dozing off, ice rink empty and his will to live in the negative – matching the mercury-in-glass quite nicely.

“OY!” The exuberant chocolate-lover greets, face sliced in two by his largest grin. The last time they spoke was two days prior, Jackson was so taken by some dumb competition with another booth that he snapped and told Youngjae off. He got mad and claimed he was done, that he couldn't stand hearing about y/n again.

“Hi,” wary, Youngjae sits straight, “I thought you didn't want to be around me anymore.”

Jackson's face twists, “What? I never said that. I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘man-up and ask her out for baby-Jesus’s sake!’... But I’m here to apologize, I'm sorry I yelled, Jinyoung says I need to make amends…” Picture of innocence, the childish man smiles and tilts his head. This look on him is never a good omen. Whenever Jackson wiggles his brows like that, he's always about to cause a holy mess. “Sooooooooo,” he goes on mischievously, “I thought about it and decided I should be the one that buys you hot chocolate today.” The last words are utter so theatrically they’re barely words at all: “At last, I shall meet your maple dame!”

Sheer panic courses through Youngjae's body when he understands. He knew he had reasons to be apprehensive. Of course Jackson is gonna get involved with his crush! The man can't ever stay out of anyone's business! Your formal rejection is the last thing he needs before Christmas. He'd much prefer remaining anonymous.

Unfortunately, Jackson has already crossed the snowy alley in your direction before he is even out, running after him. Mid-way there, Youngjae stops altogether hesitating; he could face this like a man and apologize, or run away and never come back to this cursed Market… Sadly, then he'd never see you again.

There's no doubt he's tomato red when he finally joins his former friend in front of the Maplesque! stall. You're already smiling, greeting them, as kind and breathtaking as ever.

“HI, HELLO!” Jackson blurts out too loudly, making you twitch back in surprise. “You're the Maple Goddess!” Dumbfounded, your eyes fall on Youngjae, standing a step back and wincing nervously.

“It's just Y-Y/n,” you stutter cutely on your own name, making his knees weak, “you're the chocol-”

“Jackson Wang!” Your little sister seemingly jumps from under the counter, eyes glimmering in awe. She's there every day with you, always on her phone or reading a book. “Excuse my sis, she's no good around hot guys!” Bending in two through the stall opening, the younger girl reaches to offer her hand in a hurry. To Youngjae's despair, she's obviously very taken by Jackson.

Getting rejected might not be the worst possible outcome to this encounter after all, you could fall for the chocolatier's charm. Like everyone else always does...

"Well, aren't you a treat!” Instead of shaking her hand – like a normal human being – the bold man straight up kisses her glove. Youngjae cringes so hard, he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “And you are...”

“Emma!” She blurts out in pure glee:

“Please Y/n, don't mind Jackson!” Finally stepping up, Youngjae slaps a 10$ bill on the counter, startling you. Gulping, he falters under your wide gaze, “He's always been odd.”

“I’m afraid his reputation precedes him.” You divert your eyes to the bill, biting your lower lip. “Two maple hot chocos coming.” Turning around in haste, you elbow the lollipop display and your sister catches it with a dramatic eye roll before it crashes. Youngjae can only smile like a fool, observing as you work. You're irresistible.

"So – Maple Goddess – are you free?” You're pouring the beverages when Jackson asks the question and you visibly spasm, nearly scalding yourself. Youngjae turns to his friend in horror. He might want to help, but he's as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

Emma snorts; “Yes, but Y/n's all work and no fun.” The young girl plops herself down on the counter, dropping her chin in her palm to gaze at the older men. “I'm all fun.”

"You’re jailbait.” You deadpan ruthlessly, bringing the men's attention back on you and making your sister whine. Still, you frown in concentration, pouring syrup in the two hot chocolates. “I’m just busy building a maple empire, Jackson, I’m sure you can relate.”

The chocolatier seems severely undermined and he grimaces; “That's unfortunate, Youngjae was hoping you'd join us for a break at the rink.” Wait, what!? Jackson just said what?

“Me, skate? On ice.” You seem confused, as though that's the strangest idea ever. Oh God, you hate them both already. You're gonna reject him.

“Yes…” Narrowing his eyes at his friend meanly, Youngjae clenches his fists, mustering his courage. For weeks, he had been considering the best way to asking you out and that wasn't it at all. “I was wondering if you would like to take a break from the stall and skate with me… and Jackson.” He's completely winded at the prospect but his friend smiles brightly, offering two thumbs up, very proud of himself. What is the point of this? With Jackson there, that's not even a date. It doesn't help him at all, it's a shitty plan.

“Oh, the thing is–” You start to protest but get interrupted.

“I’ll keep the booth!” Emma blurts out, beaming and you turn to her with a scowl. “I can manage here for a while, you go… Have fun… With guys...”

“You don't have to!” Youngjae eagerly offers an out, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. Still, his heart is pounding in expectation, waiting for your answer. Part of him wants to murder Jackson for forcing him out of his comfort zone, but what's done is done. The two maple hot mugs are now abandoned on the counter, steaming.

“I...” You seem to be unsure what to say, put on the spot. It takes a moment for you to finally make a choice. “Y-Yes, I would like that a lot.”

___

You're buzzing in a mix of excitement and dread stepping out of the booth. Even after agreeing, you aren't sure how it happened, don't know how you even let yourself get convinced. Sure, you've been daydreaming about spending time with rental-guy for a month – Youngjae – but still… like that? You must have momentarily lost your mind. And it's not like he invited you to join them on his own, his friend did. You follow awkwardly when both men walk back to the rental booth, Emma delighted coos echoing from the Maplesque!. Really, you're gonna have to kick her ass when you get back home tonight.

You should say something – call this whole ice skating thing off – but instead, you give Youngjae your shoe size, waiting as the guys silently bicker with one another. Clearly, you aren't the only one that hasn't thought stuff through.

You're still trying to find a way to get out of this without hurting anyone's feeling when Jackson suddenly slaps his forehead. It's like he just remembered he forgot to close the tap back home. "Oh SHOO!” The man pouts dramatically and his friend turns to him, oblong eyes round of evident apprehension. Jackson is already stepping backwards in a hurry, fleeing away from you both. He fakes looking down at his phone. “I forgot Mark had something to tell me! I need to go right now!” He's almost running up the alley now. “May your date be maple and bright!”

Wait.

What.

Date?

Did the chocolatier just set you up with his friend?

You knew you intimidated rental-guy – so did the whole world – but you didn't think it would come to this. When you face Youngjae however, you realize this wasn't his plan either. He's staring blankly at the pair of skates he picked up for you on the counter, cheekbones afire. Clearly, he's in shock. His friend just forced this unto him and he doesn't know what to do.

Wow. Can it be considered a real date if you're coerced into it? Even if you both want to meet, dates are supposed to be planned, actual outings, not just random breaks taken from work.

Besides, you don't know how to ice skate.

Well, it's not like you can get out of it now. If you try to stop this from happening it will be worse. Youngjae is so adorable, you don't want him to think you aren't interested.

Surely, ice skating can't be that complicated. You see kids on that rink every day...

“I knew about it,” you hush, trying to find something to initiate conversation.

Startled, he looks up. “Uh?”

“The whole Maple Goddess thing.”

“Oh,” Youngjae forces a chuckle, clenching his teeth, “Jackson comes up with weird stuff all the time… Sorry...” Never has a lie been more obvious. You meant his crush too, but he doesn't seem to want to hear that. To hide your growing smile, you bring your hands to your mouth, blowing air to warm them up. Unfortunately, you let your gloves at the booth.

“You don't have to do this, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to trick you into hanging out with me. I didn't even know what Jac–”

“It's fine,” you interrupt, “I was actually about to give up and ask you out myself.”

“You... What?” His mouth is open in astonishment.

Ok. This is the perfect set up for a confession. There's snow falling, you're all alone… You should probably just get it out in the open.

“I hear about you and… I like you too.”

“You like me,” Youngjae repeats doubtfully.

“Yes.” Butterflies. Butterflies everywhere. Grabbing the dreaded skates, you turn to face the rink, grinning. “So, are we gonna do this or what?"

Amused beyond logic, you laugh, leaving him hanging to go sit on a nearby bench. You try to control your nerves, slipping out of your Uggs to tightly lace the rental skates. Ice can't be much different from concrete, you've rollerbladed before. Dead silent, Youngjae comes to sit next to you, putting on ice skates himself. His are black and red, evidently personal ones, way fancier. You've never seen him on the rink before, but one probably needs to know how to ice skate to be hired at that booth. It makes sense. Done, you wait for him to finish.

Well, that's painfully awkward. You should be talking. People talk on dates. Is this a date?

Suddenly, Youngjae stands up, sliding on the ice with no effort whatsoever. He's gracious, grinning at you from ear to ear. He seemed to have processed your little confession now, at least. His feet form a V shape, making him swirl in a large circle before he stops back in front of the bench. In a messed up way, you kind of wished him to be as clumsy at this as everything else.

Evidently, he's waiting for you to get up and do some twirls of your own, a grandiose arabesque perhaps, impressive, breathtaking. Oh God, the longer he's anticipating this the worse is. Come on, here goes nothing. You can do this. Ice skating can't be that complicated. Finally standing up, you pray for some sort of miracle. You take a weird step forward on the ice. Unfortunately, your stance is so wobbly you very nearly fall on your ass, arms flying in rotation to regain balance. At the last second, Youngjae catches your forearms, saving your ass (literally). His hands wrap around your elbow holding you up steady on the slippery ice. It's the first time he has touched you and even though it's through layers of clothing, butterflies soar once more.

You look so stupid. Breaking your neck won't charm cute rental-guy. You’ll just humiliate yourself.

“You can't skate.” Youngjae states this simple fact and your entire face burns of shame. You try to pull away, to step back on the much safer and stable snow, but he holds on. Probably because he fears you're falling again.

“I can skate,” you lie, vexed, “I just haven't done this… In a while.” More like ever.

“Have fun?” Youngjae's smile widens inhumanly at his joke, lips curling upwards to expose the entirety of his dentition.

"If you call breaking a leg fun, you're a weird guy.”

You don't even notice when you start to glide, too busy smiling back. "That's okay, I got you.” Youngjae is easily skating backwards pulling you with him. “But just to be clear… You agreed to this even though you couldn't skate?”

“I couldn't refuse, you never invited me to do anything before… And I can skate,” you repeat. Just not on ice.

“So you accepted Jackson's invitation… To be with me?”

You aren't sure what he finds so hard to grasp. “Yes,” you breathe out, embarrassed, “but now I might die for it.” Your eyes dart down when Youngjae expertly crosses his blades, he's got some very impressive moves. “Showoff.”

He laughs and instantly you feel a whole lot better. “I won't let you die on my watch!” Well, the relief was short. You yelp when he releases your arms, disappearing in your back.

“H-Hey!” Precarious, you straighten and lose your balance but this time Youngjae grabs your waist, holding you up.

Wow. If you didn't risk severe head injury otherwise, you might believe he has game. But that's impossible, rental-guy spent a whole month openly pinning over you without even making a move. Plus the only reason you're in this mess is because Jackson and Emma ganged-up on you.

“I got you now, I won't let you fall. I'll teach you.” Youngjae's voice rings above your shoulder.

Though he sounds serious about the task ahead, you can't help your chills at his breath on your ear. Unfortunately for him, his close proximity is highly distracting. He's pressed against your back and you mentally curse the thickness your damn winter coat. You wish you could actually feel him, but that may be too much for a first non-date.

“Bend your knees,” he whispers in concentration, “more, more, there. Lean forward.” Biting your lower lip, you try to push aside the other images his commands summon. What is wrong with you? The man seems oblivious to his effect, intended on helping you learn. When Youngjae is fully satisfied, you're in a weird semi-sitting position. “There, you need to keep your center of gravity low to avoid falling.”

You must look absolutely ridiculous but this is strangely romantic. Something tells you Emma is filming the whole scene from the stall, although you forget everything about that when he presses closer.

“Now you just… Glide...” As you obey once more, Youngjae's hands slide down on your hips. “Again, push to the side, like me. You want the blade to bite the ice...”

Screw that. It may come as a total surprise, but the man has game. Enjoying every second of this – probably a bit too much – you begin to gain momentum with his help. He's still holding you tightly when you complete your second full circle around the rink. Even though you're vacillating and your steps lack finesse, you'd say you are doing a pretty good job. You're skating, on ice, alone with cute rental-guy. Smiling in joy, you bend a bit lower to accelerate. After a while, Youngjae's hands desert you altogether, and you would protest but he quickly reappears in front of you. Skating backwards, he barely needs to look over his shoulder to know where he is going. It's like its a second nature to him, something you find strangely attractive. As if aware of this, he maintains eye contact for far too long, you feel the tip of your ears burn and not from the cold. His brown hair is flying around his face, strands whipping the wind. For some reason the sight makes you light, you're flying around above the Christmas Market with the cotton-like snow.

Fine, maybe not all dates need to be official to be meaningful.

“I told you I could skate,” your bold claim makes him snort in disbelief.

“You might need to practice more often.”

“How about…” You pause, holding a breath, “We make this a daily thing?”

“Sure,” Youngjae offers a hand and you take it, electrified by the touch, “I’ll trade you lessons for free maple choco.”

Your heart race at the thought of doing something like this with him every day. Humming, you fake to consider his offer for a second; “Deal!”

“It's a date then!” Laughing, you keep skating, staring at each other like you're alone in the world.

Unfortunately, you forget you truly aren't and he does too. Youngjae is totally spooked when someone hollers at him aggressively, a young teen is standing in front of the rental booth for service waving both arms. Apparently, break is over.

Twisting his skates without warning, Youngjae comes to an abrupt stop in front of you, forgetting one major detail.

You hit him at full speed, albeit not very fast, but it still manages to sweep him off his feet. With a loud huff, air exhales his lungs when he hits the ice and you land on top of him. Mouth ajar, you gape, meeting his soft chestnut irides. You're too flustered to say anything and he's not doing much better than you. That's not exactly how you envisioned ever climbing him up.

Your faces are so close you can see every single one of his eyelashes, his cute pinkened nose, his beauty mark. Your eyes keep exploring his features, dipping low to his dark pout, full and inviting. You want to kiss him. Snow keeps falling, swirling in the chilly air around. You haven't chosen between pulling away or going for it when Youngjae's hand finds your nape. Slowly, he closes the gap between you, lips brushing yours delicately. Adding pressure, you kiss him back.

You knew it. The man has game.

There's no mistletoe, no fairy lights flickering, but your first kiss is fireworks. The moment is enchanting, infinite, as you both lay on the ice like one. Maybe that's the famous magic of The White Miracle Market you've heard so much about. You forget about the outside world, space, time. There's nothing but you two and the snow.

When you pull back to breathe, Youngjae is smiling softly. “Tomorrow,” he whispers, so low you can barely hear, “I'm teaching you the snowplow stop.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, winded, “that might be useful.”

GOT7 | M.list

[All I Want For Christmas: is a GOT7 collab]

194 notes · View notes

blueskrugs · 4 years

Text

But It Feels Like Home

For @kreiderrider, who let me yell about this story on anon without knowing who I was.

Reagan Carter was a princess, but nobody knew that.

Reagan Carter hadn’t really run away, but nobody knew that, either.

It had been on the news for months: the king of a small country most people didn’t normally think much about was ill. He probably wouldn’t live to see the change of the seasons, and summer was barely two months away. It wasn’t the first time his little country had found itself in the headlines. Ten years ago, the only heir to the throne, 13-year-old Alexandria, had run away from home, from all the pressure and responsibilities she felt like she could never live up to. She disappeared one night, and the story spread the next day that the princess couldn’t handle the pressure. She found a new family; she found a new name. Princess Alexandria became Reagan Carter, the adopted daughter of Jackson and Taylor Carter, an unassuming couple with unassuming careers. She had been given exactly what she had wanted—normalcy—but that was all about to be put in danger.

⁂

In a small town only a couple hours away from the palace with its dying king, Reagan turned off the news with a sigh. She was tired of listening to anchors and diplomats debating whether or not she would return to her duties from “wherever the hell in the world she went,” as the latest person who didn’t know her at all had so eloquently put it.

She could hear her younger siblings moving around upstairs as they got ready for school, and her mom was making breakfast behind her in the kitchen. She stood and stretched, throwing her phone down on the couch as she left the room. Her brother came down the stairs first because he had learned how to get into the bathroom first in the mornings and letting his twin and older sister fight over the mirror afterwards.

“Liam, did you make your bed?” their mom called, not turning away from the stove where she was scrambling eggs. Liam froze on the bottom step before turning around and going back upstairs. Reagan laughed and reached past her mom to get a bagel. “What’re they saying on the news this morning?” her mom asked softly.

Reagan sighed, turning to lean against the counter. Her head dropped to her mom’s shoulder for a moment. “Oh, y’know, that I’m a terrible daughter and a terrible princess, that I should be there for my mother and father, the usual.” They both spoke quietly, knowing that Lily and Claudia were still upstairs fighting for the bathroom mirror, and Liam would be back down any minute after actually making his bed, all three of them entirely unaware of where their oldest sister had been “adopted” from.

“Did they give any updates on your father?”

Reagan scoffed. “No. They don’t actually know anything.”

The conversation was dropped after that, as all three siblings came down for breakfast and rushed to eat before heading off to school, the complete mundaneness of it all calming Reagan’s anxieties just a little bit.

⁂

The queen stood in the doorway of Alexandria’s room in silence, still in her gown from that night’s ball. It was the first one Alexandria had missed in her lifetime. The dress she was supposed to wear was still on the dress form standing by the window. Alexandria knelt on the floor next to a bag of clothes, with her back to the door, although she knew her mother was standing there.

She didn’t turn around.

She had packed all that she could trust herself to carry, as much of her casual clothes as possible, anything that wouldn’t make her stand out for what she was. The only thing she was allowing herself to be attached to was her grandmother’s necklace, clasped around her neck like always, the sapphire pendant shining in the hollow of her throat.

Her mother sighed and finally stepped into the room. “I wish you didn’t have to do this,” she said, with nothing but sadness behind the words. It was a conversation they had had many times over the last several months, as Alexandria felt more and more like she would never be able to live up to the expectations of her role as princess and future queen. Her mother knew that she would be a good leader one day, with her stubbornness and kindness, her charm and logical thinking. Alexandria just needed to come to understand that herself.

Alexandria stood and faced her mother, her jeans and T-shirt a sharp contrast to everything around her, her chin and shoulders set with determination.

⁂

Sundays in the Carter household were for pizza nights. Reagan’s best friend Nick had come over and laid with Reagan in the hammock as the sun set and the shadows around them grew longer. They talked about their lives and the things they had done since they had last seen each other. It was comforting, lying there with Nick, one hand tangled with his and the other fidgeting with the sapphire necklace she always wore. This is where things were easy, at home, with Nick, with her brother and sisters scattered around the house and the hammock in the backyard. For a moment, Reagan could forget about the news, with its whispers of a dying king and a princess who had yet to return home.

As Nick talked about something his dog had done, Reagan thought about their friendship. The two had met in their sophomore year of college, in some general education requirement that Reagan didn’t really remember much of. Nick had sat next to her and made her laugh, teased her for her perfect posture and lack of bad hair days. Reagan had never had problems making acquaintances; something about being raised as a future queen meant that she could command a room without even trying, and people were always willing to talk to her. She struggled with real friendships, instead, always pushing people away and putting up walls, always afraid of people finding out the truth. That semester sitting next to Nick had ended far too soon, but her friendship with Nick hadn’t. Nick always stayed by her side.

When they came inside, her siblings were arguing over the first piece of pizza, and they were about to resort to rock, paper, scissors over it. Reagan rolled her eyes and ducked past her brother, snagging the offending piece of pizza out from under his arm. A chorus of protests came out of her siblings’ mouths as her mom reminded her to wash her hands. In a not very dignified way, Reagan stuck the piece of pizza in her mouth to hold it as she quickly washed her hands. When she turned around, Nick was laughing at her and holding out a plate for when she inevitably dropped the pizza. As she sat in her usual spot to the right of her dad, Nick slid another piece of pizza onto her plate.

Summer was approaching quickly, and Liam, Lily and Claudia were getting excited, already beginning to plan trips to the pool, looking forward to the long days with fewer rules. Reagan was more than content to just sit and listen to them chatter and bicker while they ate instead of being a part of the conversation. She lost herself in her thoughts, absentmindedly eating.

When all of the pizza boxes were empty, she got up to help her mom with the dishes while one of her sisters snuck some fresh cookies out of the cookie jar; they both pretended they didn’t notice her. The phone rang in the other room, and her dad answered it. Reagan couldn’t hear his half of the conversation over the running water and Nick and Liam arguing over Marvel movies in the living room, but she did hear his final words: “I’ll make sure to tell her before she sees it anywhere else.”

Any warm feeling Reagan had from a night with her family was gone. She and her mom shared a look but didn’t say anything to each other. They finished the dishes in silence

It wasn’t until all three kids had gone to bed and Nick had gone home that the three of them stood in the living room. Reagan had a feeling that she knew who the phone call had been from and what it was about, but she still stood anxiously next to her mom, clutching her arm with one hand and her grandmother’s necklace with the other.

“Reagan, sweetheart,” her dad started.

“Just tell me.”

“Your father is dead.”

Reagan froze. She had seen it coming; everyone in the world had. And, really, she had known from the moment she heard her dad on the phone in the other room. She just hadn’t wanted to think about it.

For a moment, Reagan didn’t know how to react. She felt like she was underwater, like she couldn’t breathe. Her parents were speaking to her. She could feel her mom’s hand on her shoulder, but the words they were saying were lost to her. All she could hear was a roaring silence in her ears.

Reagan half-expected to feel nothing at all. It had been a decade since she had spoken to her father. They had argued over her leaving. He thought it was unnecessary, thought she was being dramatic. He had told her that she could just stay out of the public eye for a while, grow up in private without leaving home, but that wasn’t what Reagan—Alexandria, then—had wanted.

He hadn’t come to say goodbye the next day.

Reagan had been watching the news for months with a sort of indifference, but now, collapsed on the couch, in the quiet of the firelight, with her siblings asleep upstairs, she sobbed. She cried for her mother, alone in a palace hours away. She cried for her own future, suddenly more uncertain than ever. She cried for hours, and when her tears ran out, she sat and stared numbly into the fireplace until the sun rose.

A new day started, and the world moved on. Soon the news would begin reporting on her father’s death, and Reagan would have to wash her face and go back to pretending—pretending that she hadn’t once been a princess, pretending that she hadn’t once loved the man they were talking about on the TV.

⁂

On Wednesday, Reagan pulled open the front door to find Nick on the other side, right hand in the air as if he had been about to knock. He froze, and Regan raised an eyebrow at him.

“We need to talk about something.”

Reagan’s stomach dropped, but she ignored it, stepping forward and pulling the door shut behind her, swinging her keys around her finger. “Well, I’ve got to pick up the kids,”—she really needed to stop calling her siblings her kids— “but we can talk in the car?” It came out as more of a question than she had meant it to, but Nick still followed her down the front steps and into her car.

Days had passed since the phone call, but Reagan hadn’t figured out what she was going to do. A letter had arrived, addressed to Alexandria, and Reagan had hidden it in her bedroom before any of her siblings had seen it. Nick had mentioned it once after seeing it on the news, but he didn’t know the truth either, only that his best friend had suddenly turned pale when he said something about a dead king.

They didn’t talk in the car, but they did blast music and sing along like they always did, with Nick’s phone plugged into the aux, playing one of Reagan’s playlists like nothing had changed. On the outside, everything seemed fine, but Reagan was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The three kids in the backseat chattered the whole way home, but Nick had fallen quiet in the passenger seat, fidgeting with his phone and staring out the window.

As soon as they walked back in the front door, Reagan’s siblings made beelines into the kitchen, but Nick tugged Reagan towards the back door with a murmured, “Hammock?” Reagan allowed herself to be pulled outside, dropping her purse and keys on the counter and reminding her siblings to do their homework.

“Nick, what is wrong with you?” Reagan asked, staring at the back of Nick’s head as he dragged her towards the hammock. She sat cross-legged and faced Nick, but he was sitting with his legs hanging over the side, looking back towards the house.

“Where do we go from here?” Nick broke the silence.

“What’re you ta-”

Nick cut her off. “I mean, we’re done with college, we’ve graduated. We’ve been friends for three years now. You should be off doing amazing things—you’re smart, and talented, and just way too fucking good for this shitty little town. So why are you still here? Why haven’t you left us all behind?” Reagan tried not to think about how she was on the verge of doing just that. She realized she was fidgeting with her grandmother’s necklace, and instead reached out to grab one of Nick’s hands and make him look at her.

“Nicky, I don’t understand,” Reagan started. Nick flinched a little at the nickname, one only Reagan used.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Nick blurted. Reagan jerked her hand away, and the hammock swung wildly.

She choked out a laugh. “You don’t want to love me. You don’t even know me,” she said. The words spilling out of her mouth felt all wrong, too sharp, not at all what she really wanted to say, what she needed to say. Her throat burned suddenly, and she swallowed hard, choking back the truth, the words she suddenly desperately wanted to tell Nick. Reagan watched as Nick’s face crumpled, first with sadness, before turning into anger. She wished, briefly, that she hadn’t let go of Nick’s hand.

“What do you mean, I don’t even know you? I’ve known you for three fucking years! We’re each other’s best friends. I’m at your house all the time, your siblings might as well be mine. I know your favorite books and songs, the foods you’re too damn picky to eat, that you love to cuddle, but you’re usually too proud to admit it. I know- I know that I’m in love with you,” Nick finished softly. His face had softened a little, but his eyes were still hard and distant, no longer the eyes of her best friend.

Reagan could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and she felt trapped in spite of the fresh air of the backyard. She rushed to stand up, her foot catching in the hammock’s weave; Nick reached out to catch her, but he froze before touching her.

“Nick, I—there’s something you don’t know, you don’t understand.” Nick opened his mouth, clearly ready to fight, but it was Reagan’s turn to cut him off. “I can’t tell you everything right now, but I promise I’ll tell you the truth. I just, I can’t. I can’t.” Reagan knew she was rambling, that she wasn’t making sense, but she couldn’t collect herself enough to get the right words out. Reagan had never lied to Nick in the years she had known him, but, really, she realized, with one of the last stable things she was holding on to crashing down around her, she hadn’t stopped lying since the day they had met.

“Reagan, don’t do this. You can trust me.” Nick reached for her again, no longer angry, just concerned. Reagan took a step back. She realized her hands were shaking.

“I know, Nick. But this is about more than me.” She paused and sighed. “I think you should go home.” She couldn’t stand that look in Nick’s eyes, almost wished he would back to being angry.

Nick protested, but Reagan had already turned her back on her best friend and the hammock.

⁂

There was a park on the edge of town that reminded Reagan of the woods behind their estate in the countryside when she was a child. They had spent lots of summers there, and, as soon as she had been old enough, Reagan would run off by herself, off the dirt paths to make some of her own, ducking under tree branches and climbing through the underbrush with ease.

Reagan had found this park not long after arriving in town. Technically, it was a sculpture park, with art installations scattered across the grounds, but Reagan was always more interested in the paths through the trees and the smaller paths that had been carved out by other people like her, where she could cut across creek beds and wander deep into the woods until she felt like she had entered another world.

She climbed out of her car on the small gravel parking lot with a sigh. It had been a while since she had sought the refuge of this park, with its sculptures and miles of trails, but this was where she went when she needed clarity and a place to hide. And, boy, did she need that right now. Nick had texted her a handful of times since she had left him standing next to the hammock, but she had ignored them all. She had no idea what she could even say to him.

The late spring sun was still high above the trees as Reagan made her way up the hill. She glanced at the giant eye as she walked past it, big and blue and unblinking, yet somehow not unsettling. The open field was on her left, baking in the sun, but Reagan headed farther into the park and towards the tree line, where there was a hidden gap that led to one of her favorite places. She glanced over her shoulder as she walked, more out of habit than actually worrying about anyone being around. Her corner of the park was empty like always.

It was cooler surrounded by trees, the tallest ones blocking out the blue sky as the ground beneath Reagan’s feet turned to dirt. She could feel some of the tension drop from her shoulders as her feet carried her towards what had once been a building, but was now just part of two brick walls and a doorway. She shivered a little as she settled on the threshold, pulling her sweater a little tighter around herself. She sighed again and tilted her head back against the dirty bricks, watching the spiderwebs and absently reading the various initials and names that were carved into the rock. Her right hand tugged at her grandmother’s necklace around her throat.

Nick’s words were still echoing around her head. Her chest felt tight and her eyes burned as she remembered her harsh laugh and response.

She sat in that doorway, lost in her thoughts, for hours as the sun set, until her back was cold and her legs were numb. Every once in a while, someone would venture down her trail, but no one ever bothered her. Her phone rang once, loud in the solace of the woods, but she had ignored it.

She thought about her mother and tried to think of what she would do—her calmness and ability to make decisions were something Reagan had always envied, even at thirteen. She thought about her father, and how the last thing she had said to him had been an argument, all those years ago. She thought about her relationship with Nick, and knew that she didn’t want to lose him. She also knew all the things she was still keeping from him, and tried not to think of what he would do when he found out the truth.

⁂

Reagan knew her time was running out, even as she went home in the dark to a house where everything seemed normal, untouched by the drama of the rest of the world.

She had missed dinner. Liam was watching TV in the living room with their dad, and Claudia had claimed the kitchen table to finish her homework. Reagan brushed off her mom asking if she was okay as she headed up the stairs.

“You never miss dinner,” her mom said. Reagan didn’t realize she had been followed upstairs, and now her mom was leaning against her doorjamb.

“Mom, I’m fine. I just lost track of time, and I’m not really hungry anyway,” Reagan snapped. She threw her keys down on her bed, but there wasn’t much force behind it.

Thankfully, her mom let it go and shut the door as she walked away. Reagan flopped onto her bed with a groan. Her keys dug into her back, and her stomach growled. She lay there for a couple of minutes, caught up in her thoughts once again. Downstairs, Liam was bartering for more TV time, and Claudia was complaining about her math homework.

With a sigh, Reagan reached for her phone. She dialed the familiar number and fiddled with her necklace while it rang. She was about to give up and just drive over to his house when the line clicked, and she heard Nick’s voice.

“Nicky, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Reagan, there’s nothing-it’s fine if you don’t feel the same—” Nick sighed.

“No!” Reagan’s voice rose, and she realized that it was bordering on hysterical. “There’s so much to be sorry for. I’m sorry about earlier, and I’m sorry I’ve been lying to you.”

“Reagan, I don’t understand, but you know you can always trust me,” Nick responded, his voice soft, all anger from before long since forgotten.

Reagan took a deep breath, but her words still came out rushed. “I’m the princess that ran away.”

“You’re what?”

Reagan took another deep breath and started at the beginning. She talked quietly, fully aware of her siblings getting ready for bed in the rooms around her, brushing their teeth and searching for schoolbooks that had somehow gotten scattered around the house. She lay there on the phone with Nick for hours, long after the house fell silent. He listened and asked questions as Reagan talked about growing up the only heir to a throne she wasn’t sure she wanted, getting lost in the memories.

It was after midnight when she paused. “I think I have to leave.” It was the first time she’d said those words out loud.

She heard Nick’s breath catch, then, “Let me in, I’m at the back door.”

Reagan scrambled out of bed and rushed downstairs as quietly as she could, phone still in her hand, Nick still on the other end of the line. Nick smiled at her through the glass and wrapped her in a hug as soon as she slid open the door. She relaxed in his embrace, the scent of him familiar and comforting. He waited downstairs as Reagan changed into pajamas, and together they went out to the hammock. Reagan tried not to think about how it could be the last time they sat there together.

Nick had stolen the blanket off the living room couch, and he draped it over both of them as Reagan clung to him. He held her, there under the stars, as she cried. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen Reagan cry before.

Reagan cried until she fell asleep wrapped up in Nick’s arms. He waited a few moments, relishing in the fact that this could be the last time they spent like this together. When he was certain that Reagan was solidly asleep, he gently picked her up and carried her back inside, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead.

⁂

The next morning, Reagan lay curled up the hammock in the backyard, like always, in the late morning sun, watching lazily as her three younger siblings played and chased each other around the grass. They were all too old to really need supervision, but Reagan was all too aware of how little time they would all have like this, even if they weren’t. So she sat and watched, book abandoned beside her, a letter from her mother that no one else had read tucked between the pages. There was a smile on her face as her eyes tracked Claudia duck and dash around the twins; she felt a pang in her chest. They were still young enough that they could be unaware of the troubles of the world and their older sister specifically.

The gate clanged open, and Nick walked through, startling Reagan out of her reverie. She was surprised to see him, despite the fact that he had come over in the middle of the night without her asking. The kids cheered and begged Nick to join their game, but Reagan’s ears were still ringing with his words: “I think I’m in love with you.” In all of their conversations the night before, they had avoided talking about his confession. Reagan couldn’t bring herself to do it when she was thinking about leaving them all behind, and she had barely had the time to wrap her head around all of her emotions as it was. He ignored Reagan’s siblings for a moment to walk over to her, reaching out to pull her to her feet.

“Come on, you’re going to play too if I’m getting suckered into this,” he said. Reagan rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Don’t you think they’ve tried that already? Not gonna work.” She turned around to grab her book, but Nick’s arms wrapped around her waist, spinning her around a couple times before starting to walk towards her siblings. Reagan shrieked in surprise, her own hands clutching Nick’s.

“I wish you would stay,” he whispered in her ear before setting her down next to her brother. She shot him a look; she wasn’t sure what exactly came across on her face, but Nick didn’t say anything more.

It was Nick’s turn to watch with amusement as Reagan’s younger siblings ran around the backyard. Liam had pulled out a beach ball from somewhere, and the five of them were trying to keep it off the grass. It was childish and far too young for all of them. Reagan turned to Nick, laughing and smiling bigger than he had seen in a while, her eyes lit up with a pure happiness, and he thought again about he had fallen in love with his best friend. He just wished he could convince her of that, convince her that she was worth it, but he knew he could never get her to stay long enough to do that.

One of the twins declared that they were hungry, and Reagan checked her watch to see that it was, in fact, well after noon. The beach ball was abandoned in the grass, and all five of them, a little grass-stained and worn-out in the best way, made their way towards the house. Reagan reached out and wrapped an arm around Claudia’s shoulders, tugging her close as they walked.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” she said quietly. Her sister leaned into the half-hug briefly before pulling away in her new teenage attitude.

“Of course? You’ve been weird all week,” she said back. Reagan just shook her head in response.

⁂

There was a packed suitcase hidden underneath Reagan’s bed. Once the house was quiet for the night and she was sure that she was the only one awake, she dragged it out and sat on the floor next to it. She reread her mother’s letter, even though she’d looked at it so many times that she had it memorized. She had missed her mother’s handwriting more than she could have possibly imagined.

The decision is once again up to you, it read. I will always be proud of you, no matter what you choose.

That word. Proud. All her life, all Reagan had ever wanted was for people to look at her with pride. She had run from the responsibility once before, but she was done running.

⁂

Reagan stood, one hand still on her car door, at the end of the long driveway that led to the palace she once called home. She had held her breath as the gates swung open and she drove through, a trespasser in her native country. She almost expected there to be alarm, something to announce her arrival, but the grounds were quiet.

Buried deep in her purse, Reagan’s phone vibrated. She reached in and turned it off without looking at it. It was probably Nick, wondering where she was, why she wasn’t at home. Except she was home—a home she hadn’t seen in ten years, but one that had always been willing to welcome her back.

A cool wind blew Reagan’s hair back from her face as she took in her surroundings. Everything around her was familiar and foreign at the same time. The trees lining the driveway and the grand staircase leading up to the front doors hadn’t changed, and the breeze still picked up the scent of the gardens behind the palace. Reagan caught herself walking through the floorplan of the palace in her head, trying to remember all of the shortcuts she used to take, the best places to sit with a book on a rainy day. She shook herself out of it and looked back towards the gates one last time. They had shut behind her; there was a strange sense of finality about it.

She took one final deep breath before shutting her car door and climbing the stairs before her. Before she could knock, the door swung open, revealing a member of the house staff. His face was familiar, and he smiled at Reagan, who suddenly felt like she was 13 again, small and out of place.

“Welcome home, Your Highness. We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, stepping back to allow her inside.

Reagan didn’t have time to think about the second half of his greeting because there was a shout from farther inside the palace and a flurry of activity as staff began to flit all over the place, retrieving her suitcase from her car, taking her jacket and purse, bowing and curtsying all over the place. As she stepped over the threshold and the door shut behind her, Reagan watched as the staff members dashed about, calling things out to each other. She wasn’t really listening, and she paused for a moment as the normally quiet palace exploded with noise and excitement around her. Reagan’s focus fell on a doorway that, if she remembered correctly, led to her father’s study. Right now, though, a woman with Reagan’s green eyes stood there, calmly watching the chaos around them.

“Mother—” Reagan breathed out, so quiet she wasn’t sure anybody heard it.

The queen looked at her then, two pairs of green eyes meeting across a space that felt strangely infinite, a small smile gracing her face.

“I thought I heard something about a lost princess returning home,” she said.

Reagan couldn’t help but smile herself.

⁂

The next week passed in a blur of black dresses. Reagan’s small country was in mourning, but she didn’t have it in her to cry with them. She felt distant, unsure of her place.

“How can I cry for someone I no longer knew?” she asked her mother on the first night she returned, tears burning behind her eyes. “How do I have that right when I left? I left him.”

So she stood in front of her country, stoic and dry-eyed, as her father was buried. She convinced herself that she had lost the right to cry, to grieve, tried to forget the night spent curled up on the couch alone in a house only a few hours away, but in an entirely different world.

She wondered what her siblings would think, as she sat in meetings and fell back into a routine long since forgotten. She often found herself turning to point out her favorite hiding spots to Liam, or to sneak food from the kitchens to Lily, or to dance around the empty ballroom with Claudia. Claudia was the same age now as Reagan had been when she left and started over; it seemed so strange now, that she had been able to recreate herself when Claudia was still just a child to her. She had said goodbye to her parents, but she couldn’t bear to say it to her siblings before she left.

Reagan had broken down one night and called Nick, sitting out on her balcony in one of his sweatshirts under the stars. They spoke in hushed tones in the quiet of the night, the only time the palace settled, as Reagan talked for the first time about how scared she was; for a moment, with her eyes closed, she could almost convince herself that they were in the hammock in the backyard, not separated by hundreds of miles. When she left she had felt sure of herself in a way that she never had before. She knew she was ready to face being a princess again. It was in the darkness that the old fears that had driven Reagan away from home all those years ago crept back in.

It had been halfway through her drive that Reagan had realized that she just might be in love with Nick as well, and it was on the phone with him, with the concrete of the balcony cold against her legs, that she realized how much she missed him.

⁂

There was going to be a ball. Reagan—Alexandria, again now, she had to keep reminding herself—still needed to make an official re-entrance to society, reclaim her name and her crown. Her mother had thought it fitting to have a ball, since she had left all those years ago on the night of a ball. Reagan found it oddly poetic, and she hated it a little.

She stood at her window, gazing out without really seeing. The gown she was supposed to be wearing stood next to her on its dress form. With a pang, Reagan remembered the last time she had been in this room on the night of a ball; she thought briefly of running away again, panic and uncertainty setting in.

“Alexandria,” a male voice said, but Reagan didn’t notice, now focused on her reflection in the glass, with its updo and perfect mask of makeup, her grandmother’s necklace around her throat like always. Her name was repeated, but she didn’t react, still unused to being called Alexandria. “Reagan.”

Reagan started; no one knew that name here, and the few that did never spoke it. Reagan had left that name behind with her old (new) life. She turned, ready to snap at whoever had interrupted her, but froze when she Nick standing shyly in her doorway. He was wearing a tuxedo, and Reagan was pretty sure he didn’t own one. She was still frozen as Nick took a hesitant step forward.

“What the hell?” she asked.

“You should probably get dressed, Princess. There’s a whole ball being thrown for you, didn’t you know?” Nick deflected. There was no venom in his voice, but there may have been a bit of wistfulness.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Reagan said, but Nick just stepped closer.

“D’you really think you can get rid of me that easily? You should know by now that you can never get away from me.”

“I left, Nick. I can’t be Reagan Carter anymore. I was never even really Reagan Carter. You shouldn’t be here,” she said again, desperate for Nick to understand that every part of their friendship was tied to a life she could no longer live. No more Sunday pizza dinners, no more late-night hammock conversations.

“You see, there’s this great invention called a phone.” Reagan rolled her eyes in spite of herself. “And there are cars, too, which is how I got here tonight,” Nick said, a smile dancing in his eyes.

“I’m not the person you thought I was, Nick. Not anymore,” Reagan argued. It was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you though?” Nick shot back, not missing a beat. “Are you not the same girl who is so damn charming that everyone can’t help but to love her? Or the girl who loves her siblings and always helps them with their homework? The girl who refuses to wear leggings in public and fidgets with her grandmother’s necklace when she’s trapped in her own thoughts?” Nick said, tugging her hand down from where it was, in fact, fidgeting with her necklace, and tangling his fingers with hers. The words, “the same girl I fell in love with,” hung unspoken in the air between them.

“The kids—” she whispered.

“Think it’s cool that their big sister is a fucking princess,” Nick finished, his words crass and loud, totally out of place in the walls of the palace. “Reagan, you need to understand that changing your name doesn’t change who you are. You’re still my hardworking, stubborn best friend. You’re a great leader, whether it’s a group project in college or running a small country.” Nick smiled at her, squeezing her hand gently. “You don’t have to leave us behind.” He checked his watch. “You do have to put on that dress, though, because you’re going to be late.”

Reagan fought the urge to quote The Princess Diaries at him and shooed him out of the room. She had to trust that he wouldn’t get lost on his way back down to the ball. He’d be fine. Probably.

When she entered the ballroom and was introduced as Princess Alexandria, future queen, for the first time in ten years, she looked out into the crowd and saw not only Nick, but her parents and siblings, too. When she made her rounds with her mother standing proudly by her side, she kept looking for Nick, who sent her encouraging smiles every time. When she finally settled next to Nick in the crowd and got the chance to hug her siblings again, she was still thinking about him words up in her bedroom.

As Nick greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, she was overwhelmed by the sudden familiarity and normalcy of it all, despite the gowns and the regalia all around her, and she couldn’t help but think, as she faced a future full of responsibilities, that maybe it would all be a little easier to face with the people she loved by her side.

⁂

There was a path that went through the woods on the edge of the palace grounds. It wasn’t quite the same as the woods surrounding their summer home, or the park Reagan used as a refuge, but Reagan still found herself slipping away to walk among the trees more than once in the week since she’d been home. This time, though, she wasn’t alone, her siblings’ shouts ringing off of the trees and Nick by her side like always, their hands not quite brushing as they walked.

Reagan had lain awake for hours in her bed after the ball had ended. She almost wished that Nick and her family hadn’t come. They had shattered the world she was carefully trying to put back together, made her question whether or not she would ever be as happy without them as she was trying to convince herself she could be. She wished they would just let her go the way she was trying to let go of them.

But they had all still been there in the morning when Reagan came down for breakfast, the kids clearly struggling to be on their best behavior, Nick greeting her with a smile. All as if nothing had changed.

Reagan had rounded up her siblings and Nick after breakfast, wanting to show them more of the place she had grown up, but also wanting more time with them while she tried to figure out what she was going to do, what she wanted.

“Why did you guys come?” she asked suddenly.

Nick looked sideways at her, confused. “What do you mean? We wanted to see you.”

“But I’m not-” Nick cut her off with a groan.

“We’re not doing this again.” Nick continued with his lecture, but Reagan stopped listening. She reached out then, taking Nick’s hand, twisting their fingers together. Nick stopped talking.

“I don’t think I can do this without you guys,” she admitted. She knew it was something she had realized in the early hours of the morning, but it hit her fully then. “I don’t know how to do this,” she continued. “My whole life I thought this was a straightforward thing. I could be a princess or not. I couldn’t have both. But, now, here, I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Who said you had to do it alone?”

Of course, to Nick, it seemed so simple, so obvious. He had never seen any reason why Reagan couldn’t have both, couldn’t stay a princess but also watch her siblings grow up, even when she’d been struggling with it for years. And with her hand in Nick’s, in the dappled sunlight of the woods, she realized that it may always have been that easy. Maybe when she had been younger it had to be so black-and-white, but now the lines were blurred. There was no reason she couldn’t have the life she chose, in a palace with all the glamour and work, with the family she had chosen all those years ago, with the people she loved so much. Something in her still wanted to fight it, to argue with Nick and everyone else, tell them that she wasn’t worth it. Things were so different now, and she knew she would always be trying to push them away to protect them, but she also knew that they’d always be there, pushing right back.

She and Nick caught up to her siblings. Liam had found a tree to climb and had gotten stuck; Lily and Claudia were laughing at him. They were in a small clearing, far enough into the woods that they could barely see the palace grounds behind them. Reagan felt truly relaxed for the first time since she had come home, and then she realized that all the tension and uneasiness that had been in the back of her mind, tightening her shoulders constantly, had been gone from the moment she hugged her siblings in the middle of the ballroom the night before.

There, in the middle of the woods, with Liam up a tree, her sisters hunting for wildflowers, and Nick at her side, with the royal life waiting for them on the other side of the woods, was exactly where Reagan belonged.

#cait writes things #short story #fiction #please click the keep reading #this means so much to me #and I want people to read it so badly #please

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stilinskishit · 4 years

Text

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 9

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison @purple286 @multifandxm353 @bralessandflawless

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post this, I haven’t really been in the mood to write. That’s why this part was sort of short, but I’m trying to get back into the swing of things and writing more often!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 9 - Shin

Season 2, Episodes 1 and 2

Ramie had spent most of her time since leaving the hospital, back at the hospital with Lydia. Since Lydia’s wounds were much more severe than Ramie’s she was stuck there for much longer, and Ramie didn’t want to leave her friend’s side. Any time she wasn’t with Lydia, she spent with Isaac. Ramie and Isaac hadn’t talked much about the night of formal, Ramie was still shaken up over the whole thing and Isaac didn’t push. The two were practically dating at that point, just without the label to make it official.

Things for Scott and Allison however, were not going smoothly. Allison had told Ramie that her Dad had caught her and Scott together and freaked out, threatening Scott and basically breaking the two of them up. However, the two of them were still sneaking around together. Therefore, when Lydia disappeared screaming, literally, from the hospital one night, she called Allison and told her and Scott to get to the hospital as soon as they could. Stiles, whom she had called first, was already pulling into the parking lot not long after.

“Did you get it?” He asked as Ramie hopped into the jeep. Ramie held up the hospital gown Lydia had left behind. She had been taking a shower when she took off from the hospital, and Scott requested something to catch her scent with, so they could try to track her down.

Ramie’s phone buzzed with a text from Isaac as soon as Scott pulled up. He said he needed to talk to her, asking if she was busy. She said she’d call him later, and briefly explained the Lydia situation. He told her not to worry about him.

Ramie, not worrying about it, then found herself hiding in the woods from Allison’s father, while Scott was hanging from a trap he had set. Allison’s dad, thinking Lydia had been turned by Peter, was also searching for their lost friend. However, by the next day at school, Lydia was still missing. Ramie begged Melissa to let her go looking for her friend, but Melissa insisted the police had everything covered and Ramie had to attend school. Stiles informed Ramie and Scott when they got to school that morning that someone had dug up a gravesite the previous night, and ate the liver of a body. They were convinced it was Lydia, and that she was turning into a wolf.

“It’s causing me severe mental anguish to admit this but he’s right,” Stiles whispered up to Scott during Harris’ class. Ramie narrowed her eyes from next to him.

“Who’s right?”

“Jackson,” Stiles nodded towards the boy sitting a few rows behind them, while Scott agreed. “The next time she steals an organ from someone they’re probably gonna be alive.”

“This is a pop quiz Mr. Stilinksi, not a group project,” Harris’ voice came from the front of the room. “If I hear your voice again I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career.”

“Can you do that?” Stiles shot back, and Ramie kicked his shin under the table, begging him to shut up.

“There it is again, your voice,” Harris continued. “Triggering the only time I’ve ever wanted to strike a student repeatedly, and violently." Ramie could hear Jackson and Danny snickering behind them, and she shot them a look. Danny gave a forgiving smile but Jackson just smirked.

“I’ll see you at 3 for detention,” Harris said to Stiles. Scott turned to look at Stiles’ and Ramie rolled her eyes. “You too Mr. McCall? Ramona?”

“No sir,” Ramie said, turning back to her quiz while Scott shook his head. She heard Stiles and Scott laughing quietly.

“Ramona,” Stiles whispered teasingly, which earned him another kick to the shin.

…

Late that night after being a good friend and going to Allison’s aunt’s funeral, despite the fact that Ramie knew she was a psychotic werewolf killer, and meeting Allison’s creepy grandfather, Ramie went to Derek’s for another training session. Once Stiles had called Ramie and told her that they had found Lydia and she was safe, Ramie headed to Derek’s. They had been training regularly since they started, not long after Scott was bitten, and Ramie felt like she was really getting the hang of things.

“So, Allison’s grandfather is the new hunter in town,” Ramie panted as she threw a punch at Derek, and successfully ducked from him throwing one back. Derek nodded, attempting to grab her wrist, but Ramie twisted away, causing Derek to slip to the side. Ramie threw another punch and this one hit Derek straight in the nose, as he was distracted by someone yelling his name.

“Jesus, McCall,” Derek groaned, holding his nose. “You got me good.” Ramie opened and closed her throbbing hand as the person who was yelling to Derek came into view, and it was probably the last person Ramie expected.

“Isaac?” Ramie stepped towards the curly haired boy.

“Ramie,” he stammered. “What are you going here?”

“I might ask you the same question,” Ramie said, grabbing gauze from a table near Derek, and beginning to wrap her now bloody and definitely bruised hand.

“Isaac’s with me now,” Derek said, almost smugly.

“With you?” Ramie raised her eyebrows, looking between the two. Isaac looked at the ground. “Isaac please don’t tell me-“

“He’s my beta,” Derek cut her off. Ramie’s mouth dropped open. She looked to Isaac, who finally met her eyes.

“He offered it to me and I accepted,” Isaac explained quickly. “I know about your brother and Lydia and everything.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Ramie stepped towards him, arms crossed over her chest.

“I tried to the other night,” he shrugged. Ramie opened her mouth to fire back, but realized he was right. He had asked to talk to her when Lydia went missing.

“While I’d love to sit here and listen to this lover’s quarrel I’d like to know why you’re here suddenly,” Derek’s voice came from behind the two of them. Ramie jumped slightly, forgetting he was there.

“It’s my Dad,” Isaac said. “I think something killed him. And I swear it wasn’t me.”

Issac explained to Derek that he was having dinner with his Dad when he got violent, throwing plates at Isaac, and Isaac took off. He explained that he had then found his Dad’s body in his car in an alleyway, and it was torn apart. Derek left almost immediately to go check out the body, leaving Isaac and Ramie alone.

“You could’ve told me you know,” Ramie said, sitting down against one of the old subway cars that were in Derek’s lair. Isaac slid down next to her. “About your Dad hitting you.”

“You have enough on your plate,” he gave her a small smile. She grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked after a minute. Isaac shook his head.

“Why are you here?” He changed the subject. “And why did I walk in to you punching Derek?”

“Derek’s been training me to fight,” Ramie explained. “And Scott doesn’t know, so please don’t tell him.”

“Your brother isn’t gonna be very happy when he finds that out,” Isaac smirked at her. “And he also won’t be happy to hear you’re dating me, and I’m with Derek.” “Which is why we keep that from him for as long as possible,” Ramie told him, ruffling his hair as she stood up. He followed her over to the couch, where she grabbed her backpack. “And why I need to get home before it gets too late. You sure you’re okay?”

Isaac’s bright blue eyes met hers, as he grabbed her waist. He leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips.

“Promise,” he whispered, as their lips broke apart. “My Dad was horrible. I’m just gonna wait here until Derek gets back.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Ramie told him. He nodded, giving her another quick kiss before she turned, leaving him alone.

…

“When were you going to tell me that you’re dating a fucking werewolf,” Scott seethed as he caught Ramie in the halls the next day at school. “A werewolf who is now going to jail because the police think he murdered his father,” Stiles butted in, throwing his hands in the air. Ramie shushed both of them, looking around. No one seemed to notice the angry boys, but Ramie tugged them into an empty classroom, just in case, closing the door behind them.

“Oh, and Allison’s grandfather is apparently the principal now,” Stiles said as the door shut. Scott sent him a look that clearly meant to shut up. Ramie sighed.

“I only found out last night,” Ramie said, answering their questions from before and ignoring Stiles’ comment about Gerard Argent. “How did you find out?”

“I could smell him,” Scott explained. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Isaac asked me not to,” Ramie lied. Scott’s eyes narrowed at her, but he didn’t push any further. “And I heard about the police taking him.”

“They haven’t left yet,” Scott said. Stiles was surprisingly quiet.

“I called Derek,” Ramie said, before thinking. Scott’s eyes narrowed and Ramie continued before he could ask any more questions. “Tonight’s the full moon and we need to get him out before then.”

“I have detention,” Stiles said, holding up his hands and looking at the clock.

“Call us after,” Ramie told him, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Scott asked, following behind her.

“To get Isaac out,” she replied, running down the hall. She could her Scott following behind her as she pushed opened the front doors of the school. Derek was parked out front.

“You’re going with him?” Scott called after her. Ramie ignored him, opening the door to Derek’s car.

“Get in,” Derek said to Scott through the open window.

“Are you serious,” Scott groaned back, pointing towards the police car that just took Isaac away. “You did that, that’s your fault.”

“I know that,” Derek admitted. “Now get in the car and help us.”

“How about I go get a lawyer, someone who actually has a chance of getting him out before tonight?” Scott stepped closer to the car.

“Not when they do a search of his house,” Derek said. Scott looked confused. “Whatever Jackson told the police, what’s in that house is way worse, trust me.”

Scott stood still for a second, near the car now. Ramie looked at him with pleading eyes. He groaned, moving down the rest of the steps and opening the car door, Ramie hopping in the back to let him in.

After showing Scott the freezer that Isaac’s dad used to lock his son in, Scott was convinced that helping Derek break Isaac out was the right move. However, he stayed behind to use said freezer to lock himself up for the full moon. Allison was meeting him there and was going to chain him in. Stiles met Derek and Ramie at the police station, the latter two getting in the jeep when they got there.

“Alright, so, the keys to all the cells are in a lockbox in my Dad’s office,” Stiles explained. “We just need to get past the front desk, and get there before the fake cop the Argent’s sent gets there.”

“Fake cop?” Ramie asked.

“Allison slowed him down, don’t worry,” Stiles shrugged it off. Ramie wanted to ask more questions but let the two of them continue.

“It’s no problem,” Derek said, going to open the door. “I’ll distract the lady at the front desk.”

“You? You’re not going in there,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s arm. Derek looked between Stiles’ face and his grip on his arm. “I’m taking my hand off.”

“He was exonerated,” Ramie defended Derek from the back seat.

“He’s a person of interest,” Stiles turned towards her, sending her a glare.

“An innocent person,” Derek corrected. Ramie nodded as Stiles looked between the two of them.

“An? In-? You? Yeah, right,” Stiles stuttered, eyebrows raised. Derek deadpanned back him. “Okay, fine. What’s your plan?”

“To distract her,” Derek said again.

“By punching her in the face?”

“By talking to her,” Derek seethed at Stiles.

“Okay, how? Give me a sample, what are you gonna open with,” Stiles questioned him. Derek was quiet, glaring at Stiles. “Silence, that’s a great idea, it’ll work flawlessly, I’m sure. Any other ideas?”

“I’m thinking about punching you in the face,” Derek started.

“Let’s just go,” Ramie said to the two of them, getting out of the jeep and walking towards the building so they had no choice but to follow her.

When they got inside, Derek’s tactic of flirting with the officer at the front desk actually worked quite well, and Ramie and Stiles managed to sneak into Sheriff Stilinksi’s office.

However, once Stiles opened the lockbox, the keys were nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered. “We need to go tell Derek.”

Ramie nodded, following him out the door and running straight into him in the hallway when he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Jesus Sti, what are you,” Ramie started, then trailed off as she looked up and saw what Stiles was staring at. A man in a cop’s uniform, and a broken arrow in his leg, was standing in the hallway, staring down the two of them. Before Ramie could react, the man grabbed Stiles, dragging him down the hallway. She chased after the two of them, but the man shoved her, knocking her to the ground, her head smacking the wall. She laid on the ground for a second, blinking. Her head was pounding, but she leapt up when the fire alarm started to go off, running towards where the man had dragged Stiles. She ran into the room just as Isaac appeared, pushing the man who was standing over Stiles on the ground. Issac, in wolf form, pushed the man into the wall, as Ramie grabbed Stiles, who pulled the two of them into a corner away from Isaac and the man struggling.

Issac smashed the man’s head into the wall, knocking him out, falling limp to the ground. Issac turned, growling towards Stiles and Ramie as Derek entered the room, stepping on the syringe that the man had been carrying. Issac stepped towards Ramie and Stiles, Stiles grabbing Ramie and pulling her closer, shielding her body with his. However, Derek stepped in, roaring at Isaac who then instantly cowered to the ground, turning back to human, shaking and sweating.

“How did you do that?” Stiles asked, looking between Derek and Isaac.

“I’m the alpha,” Derek explained, a smirk on his face. Issac, looking terrified, looked up at Derek, then over to Ramie.

“Ramie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” he started, visibly shaking, but Derek cut him off.

“We need to get you out of here,” he grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him up and the two of them took off, out of the station. Stiles stood up, pulling Ramie to her feet as well.

“You really should break up with him,” Stiles told her. “He could’ve killed us.”

“And Scott could kill us too,” Ramie shot back. Stiles opened his mouth to fight back but there were footsteps behind them. Noah came into view, looking between the two of them, Issac’s empty cell, and the fake cop knocked out on the ground. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at the two of them. Stiles turned, looking too at the cell and the guy on the ground.

“Uh, he did it,” Stiles pointed at the unconscious man on the ground. Noah sighed again, and Ramie had to bite her lip from smiling at Sties’ horrible excuse.

#stiles stilinski fanfic #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski #Isaac lahey #scott mccall #derek hale #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf one shot #Isaac lahey one shot #teen wolf imagine #season 2 #omega #shape shifted

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noorakardemmomesaetre · 4 years

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Through the Snowfall - Chapter Two

Or Read It On Ao3

Pairing: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: The Coopers and Andrews have rented the same cabin in the woods every holiday season since their kids were two years old.

And with Archie and Betty leaving for college in just a few months, Betty is determined to make this Christmas a memorable one…by telling Archie how she really feels.

What she doesn’t plan for is Archie bringing his best friend.

Or the way her gaze is suddenly lingering on the wild dark curls peeking out from beneath a crown beanie rather than the ginger spikes she’d set her sights on so long ago.

Chapter Two: Sunrise

6:03AM

Betty stares at the alarm clock beside her bed until her eyes burn and she sighs, pressing her palms to her now closed eyes.

She’s tossed and turned all night knowing that he’s sleeping soundly in the room just down the hall from her. She’s dreamed of this moment, of the possibility of her slipping into his room under the cover of darkness, sharing whispered secrets and possibly even kisses beneath his heavily quilted comforter.

But that’s not what’s kept her up. It’s the fact that that same opportunity she’s dreamed of is presenting itself to her now, as it has been for the better half of two hours, and she hasn’t necessarily felt the urge to take it.

And why the hesitation? Because a good-looking guy with a kind smile and warmth behind his eyes has shown up unexpectedly?

That’s enough, she silently decides. Being distracted by Jughead’s good looks and playful wit is absolutely no reason to debate my feelings for Archie. I’ll tell him tonight.

Veronica is snuggled beneath her blankets, snoring gently, and Betty envies her ability to sleep peacefully while her own mind feels so incredibly loud.

She tugs on her robe hanging from one of her bedposts, slipping her feet from beneath her blankets into her plush slippers. Perhaps a mug of hot chamomile tea will quiet her overthinking and she’ll be able to get at least a couple of hours of sleep.

She’s making her way past the main hallway bathroom when the door suddenly opens, startling her. She stops and her fingers immediately fly to the messy bun lazily tied atop her head.

“Sorry!” Jughead whispers, shutting off the light and stepping into the hallway, only feet from her. He motions to his toothbrush and offers her an apologetic smile. “Had to brush my teeth.”

“At 6:00 in the morning?” she asks softly, a playful edge to her tone as she regains her composure. “I didn’t take you for an early riser.”

“I’m definitely not,” he murmurs quickly, his free hand falling to the back of his neck as though he needs to ease some tension there. “But Archie told me how you all like to get ready for breakfast around this time so I thought I’d try to get out of the way of the bathroom before you and Veronica wake up.”

She wonders silently if he knows how endearing he looks when he does that. Rubs the back of his neck nervously. But then the realization of what he says hits her and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself from giggling aloud.

“Oh, Jug,” she sighs, shaking her head partly because of what she needs to tell him and partly because she can’t believe she just referred to him with such familiarity. “That’s so thoughtful, but I think Archie is playing a trick on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brunch doesn’t start until 10:30am…”

His hand falls from behind his neck and he closes his eyes, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Right." He laughs before focusing on her once more and she finds herself tucking a few loose strands of hair that have fallen from her bun behind her ear as she smiles up at him. “Well, I’m really happy I ran into you out here then, Betty.”

She looks down at her slippers in an attempt to ignore the unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest, before she lifts her gaze to meet his once more.

He clears his throat and takes a step towards his and Archie's designated bedroom, motioning with the blue toothbrush still firmly clasped in his hand. “I guess I’ll head back to sleep.”

“Goodnight Jughead,” she says easily, before remembering it’s now morning and grimacing at her mistake.

But instead of correcting her, he chuckles and gives her a genuine smile. “Goodnight Betty.”

--------------------

“I’m so excited we’re finally going out to the snow!” Alice says, clapping her hands together as everyone settles into the living room to tie on their snow boots. It’s been two days since everyone’s arrival to the cabin and Alice’s excitement for a family outing to the snow has been no secret.

Veronica whispers something to Betty about feeling like the Michelin woman in the snowsuit Alice has insisted she wear and Betty bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“Remember when we went sledding last year, Betty, and you couldn’t make it halfway down the hill without falling off?” Archie asks from across the living room, smiling to himself at the memory.

Betty finds herself grinning at him and rolling her eyes. “I was actually trying not to remember that, but thank you for sharing.”

“Okay, enough chatter!” Mary says as Fred helps her zip up her shin-length black snow jacket. “Let’s go!”

Betty helps Veronica to her feet and they can’t help the giggles they share as they take in each other’s fluffy and oversized outfits.

“Kids! Get together for a photo! I need to document this,” Alice says, nudging Betty and Veronica over to where the boys are attempting to stand. She positions the four of them in front of the fireplace, making sure to push Betty in between Veronica and Archie.

Betty hopes her eye roll isn’t as noticeable as it had felt.

After a few dozen pictures are taken with Betty looking grumpier and grumpier with each shot, they all make their way down the snow-plowed road towards where the few families taking up residence here are sledding and building snowmen.

--------------------

An hour later, Archie heads back up the hill with his saucer sled in tow, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He’s waving at all of them excitedly and Betty can’t help but give him two enthusiastic thumbs up for his run.

He heads over to them and his eyes are shining because sledding with his friends is his favorite part of vacation. Or at least she thinks she remembers him saying something about that several winters ago.

But her train of thought regarding their past is interrupted when-

“Veronica, come with me this time! I’ll take you down,” he’s saying, holding up the saucer cheerfully alongside his invitation.

Something tugs uncomfortably on Betty’s heart as Veronica turns to her, her face fully reflecting how obviously torn she feels. “No, no, I think you should take Betty-”

“I can take Betty later, she always falls off-”

“I really think you should take her, Archie-”

“No, it’s okay,” Betty cuts her off with what she hopes is a reassuring smile that doesn’t reflect the pain stinging the corners of her eyes. “You should go.”

“Yes!” Archie pumps his fist in the air, his grin widening as he makes his way over to the very top of the hill. He sets the saucer down and waves for Veronica to join him.

“Are you sure?” Veronica asks, concern laced through her voice as she searches Betty’s face until Betty reaches over and squeezes her hand.

“Of course I’m sure! Go have fun, I’ve been wanting some hot chocolate anyways.”

Veronica hesitates for a few more seconds before Archie calls her name once more and she heads over to join him on the sled. She wedges herself between his legs, her back pressed against his front and Betty pretends not to notice what a perfect fit they are and how far her heart has dropped.

She heads over to a spot of untouched snow beneath a sea of large trees and stares at the ground for a moment before turning around and allowing herself to fall on her back.

The snow pillows around her and she spreads her arms and legs out wide before moving them up and down and side to side. Up and down. Side to Side. Up and Down.

Her gaze is fixated on the snow-covered branches above her and for the first time since the boys have arrived, her mind is truly quiet. She feels comforted by the serenity of being surrounded by the snow.

“Are you trying to make a snow angel?”

His deep voice tears through the silence she had just begun to enjoy, but when she sees it’s him she's not bothered by the interruption.

“What does it look like?”

“If I’m being honest, it looks like a Jackson Pollock attempt at a snow angel,” he teases and she can almost see the way he’s smiling as he says it.

She grabs a fistful of snow in her glove and sits up, throwing it at him before laughter falls from her lips. He doesn’t attempt to dodge it, the unballed snow exploding in the air and falling around him rather than hitting him. He tilts his head, grinning at her and shaking his head.

She lays back down, continuing her half-hearted snow angel movements and though a small part of her hopes he joins her, she doesn’t ask.

And she doesn’t need to. A few seconds later, he lays down in the snow beside her, leaving only a couple of inches between his outspread fingers and her own.

They’re quiet for a few moments with only the sounds of their movements and gentle breathing between them. Birds chirp amongst each other as they fly through the branches above their heads and Betty stills her arms and legs.

Jughead follows her lead and Betty pretends not to notice that they’ve stopped with their arms spread in the widest positions...his gloved fingers almost touching hers.

“Is your family sad you won’t be joining them for Christmas this year?”

She’s not sure why she’s asked him about his family, but there’s something about laying next to him surrounded by the safety of nature that has prompted her interest in who he is.

At least that’s what she tells herself.

“I don’t think so,” he responds quietly and she’s afraid she’s touched a nerve before he continues, “my mother left with my little sister when I was much younger and I doubt my father is sober enough to notice I’m gone.”

“Oh.” The word leaves her lips in a breath that crystallizes as soon as it hits the air. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, turning his head to look at her and she does the same. “If I didn’t want you to know, Betty, I wouldn’t have told you.”

His eyes are electric against the backdrop of glistening white snow and she feels her heart beating erratically in response to the intensity of his gaze.

“Do you miss her? Your sister?”

The sounds of Archie’s giddy hollering and Veronica’s squeals pierce the air as they head down another hill, but the noise fades as she awaits his answer.

“There’s never a moment I don’t miss her.”

“And your mom?”

His eyes darken at that question and Betty immediately regrets asking it, but before she can take it back, he shrugs.

“That’s a bit more complicated, I’ll admit.”

“Totally understandable, I’m sorry to be so nosy,” she apologizes, turning her head so that she can focus her gaze on anything other than the adorable way his nose has pinkened in the cold.

“You’re not being nosy,” he says, mirroring her movements and turning back to stare up at the cloudy sky. “I don't know why, but I don’t mind answering anything you want to ask me.”

She’s quiet at that, but she shifts the tiniest bit so that the tips of her gloved fingers touch his. If he’s noticed, he doesn’t say anything.

After a moment, his tongue runs against his bottom lip before he quietly asks, “tell me something about you now?”

“Um...I’ve only applied to colleges out-of-state,” she admits so softly she’s sure he couldn’t have heard her, immediately closing her eyes.

“That’s great, Betty! Which states?”

His interest and encouragement surprises her and she responds with a bit more confidence, “Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire.”

“An Ivy League girl,” he says, turning to look at her once more with a cheeky smile on his face. “I should’ve known.”

She genuinely laughs at that and the sound catches her off guard. She tosses some snow at him and he moves his hands to block it, his own laughter now intermingling with hers.

She turns back to watching the birds flying amongst the branches, but she doesn’t miss the way he smiles to himself when she does so.

“What’s making you so happy over there, Jones?”

“Nothing… it’s just that I-”

A snowball hitting him square in the chest interrupts him mid-sentence and they both sit up to see Archie holding his stomach, chuckling loudly. Veronica is standing next to him, her cheeks flushed from their many sled rides.

“Archie,” she finally says and Betty watches as they exchange a knowing look.

“Betty!” Archie turns his attention to her now and lifts the round sled in the air once more. “Let’s see how far you can make it down the bunny hill without falling this time, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes, but grins as she stands up from her accurately-described-by-Jughead snow angel. Archie takes her movement as a yes and gives her a thumbs up before heading to the top of a smaller hill. Veronica smiles at her supportively, but Betty can’t read the expression in her eyes as she turns to make her way over to where the parents are hoarding thermoses of hot chocolate.

Betty’s about to move to join Archie when she stops suddenly and turns around to find Jughead now standing, brushing snow from the sleeves of his flannel jacket.

“Jughead?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t actually told anyone about the college thing yet so if you could...um...not talk to anyone about that-”

“What college thing?” he interrupts and she’s about to remind him of what she’s literally just told him - how could he have possibly already forgotten? - when a small smile plays on his lips and he winks at her.

She doesn’t stop smiling until she’s comfortably settled between Archie’s legs on the sled and heading down the semi-steep hill.

She falls off within twenty seconds of take off and decides perhaps tomorrow will be a better day to confess her feelings for him.

For Archie.

--------------------

leave a comment if you’d like, i love hearing your thoughts! ❤️❄️☃️

#bughead fanfiction #bughead #bughead holiday fanfiction #betty cooper x jughead jones #riverdaleevents #comet: traditions #through the snowfall #a little bit of a tropefest #mixed with as much of a slow burn as five chapters will allow lol

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vcidgalpin · 4 years

Text

Pack Mentality Pt 1

Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Eventually)

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 1539

A/N: Scott has a dream, that seems to be more real than he would like it to be. Stiles and Y/N keep bickering, and Scott digs himself into a hole before his and Allison’s date.

Warnings: none?

Just as Scott finishes retelling his dream to Stiles and I as we hop out of the Jeep. Stiles was predictably reluctant to give me a ride to school, but Scott had texted us both saying he needed to talk to the two of us. It wasn’t as if I was out of the way, I literally live across the street, so he couldn’t really come up with a reason not to.

“And then what, you killed her?”

Scott’s dream was about him and Allison sneaking around together, on the school buses after hours, when he suddenly wolfed out on her.

“I don’t know. I woke up. I was sweating like crazy and I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never had a dream where I woke up like that before,”

“I have. But it usually ends a little differently,” Stiles comments, and I blush super hard. He is so open about things, it’s insane.

“A: I meant I’ve never had a dream that felt that real, and B: never give me that much detail about you in bed again.” I clear my throat before speaking,

“Well at least you woke up in your own bed, that’s a good thing right?” I offer a small smile.

“I’m gonna take a guess here and say this probably-”

“-Has something to do with the fact that I am going out with Allison tomorrow, I know. It’s like I’m afraid I’m going to lose control and rip her throat out”

“No, of course not-” I try to be comforting, but my tone and heartbeat give me away and award me a look from Scott “Yeah, okay that’s probably it. But just because you are scared, doesn’t actually mean it’s going to happen okay?” Scott’s head hangs low, nodding.

“I personally think you are handling this pretty freaking amazingly! It’s not like there’s a Lycanthropy for Beginners Class you can take.” I nod along with Stiles, I know first hand how difficult it is to teach yourself.

“Not a class, but maybe a teacher.” I can’t help but feel a little offended by his suggestion that Derek could do a better job than me.

“Hey, you have me, okay? You don’t need to run off to Derek, who by the way, we don’t know if we can trust. And are you forgetting the part where we had his ass thrown in jail?”

“I know. It’s just- chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus- it all felt so real.”

“How real?” Stiles questions.

“Like it actually happened,” Just as Scott speaks, we open exterior doors at the other end of the school and come across a bloodied scene ahead of us.

“I think it did.” A bus with it’s hinges barely hanging on is surrounded by police tape. Maybe it wasn’t a dream.

---

We run through the corridors, searching for Allison frantically. Scott’s heart is pounding so hard I’m worried for the safety of his ribcage. He slams into a locker, head first, panting loudly before punching the metal door so it is fully concave, hanging open. He backs away, hitting into the girl we’ve been desperately looking for. Her books fall to the floor, scattering everywhere. I put an arm in front of Stiles, telling him to let them have their moment. We turn away and I see Lydia standing with Jackson. She catches me staring and offers a sweet smile to me. Nodding back, I see Stiles wave from the corner of my eye. Lydia doesn’t return the gesture, and instead pulls her attention back to her boyfriend. I laugh a little,

“Why do you try so hard? She has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah a horrible boyfriend who’s obsessive and creepy,”

“Says you, literally obsessing over her, for what, way over a year now?”

“Seven,” He corrects under his breath, making me laugh more at how he just keeps proving my point, “But I am not obsessive, okay? I’m just… I like her okay, is that evil?”

“I’m just saying, maybe you would’ve had a girlfriend by now if you didn’t just pine after the same girl all the time,” That sounded oddly close to a compliment, I pray he didn’t pick up on that fact.

“How would you know if I’ve ever had a girlfriend? Have you ever had a boyfriend, huh? Cus you don’t seem to have people falling at your feet either-” An announcement cuts him off.

“Attention, students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled.” Groans fill the school.

“Saved by the bell,” I flash a fake smile, pivoting on my feet and walking off to class before he can get another word in. As I do so, I see Jackson at his locker. The same locker that Scott punched, and destroyed. He notices me looking,

“What are you looking at?” His voice filled with anger, I just shook my head, averting my eyes and kept walking.

---

In Mr. Harris’ chemistry class, I sit in the back. I can see Stiles and Scott constantly talking away, and I also notice the teacher’s clear annoyance across his face. His hands on his hips, he clears his throat, finally getting the pair’s attention.

“Mr. Stilinski, if that’s your idea of a hushed whisper you might want to pull the earphones out once in a while. I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance. Yes?” I can hear Stiles whine like a puppy. Mr Harris points to opposite sides of the room and the boys shuffle across to the seats. Stiles sits diagonally left of me and Scott is placed in front of Jackson.

“Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much.” He starts scribbling words down on the board again. A few moments later, and Harley speaks up, from in front of me.

“Hey look! They found something. They found a body!” A pit forms in my stomach. All students hustle and bustle to get a good look out of the window. Outside, there is a man strapped to a gurney.

“That’s not a rabbit” I hear Scott mumble, worriedly. Suddenly, the man launches up screaming, making everyone jump.

“This is good. Look, he isn’t dead. He got up. A dead guy can’t do that.”

“Stiles… I did that.”

---

Later, I walk into the cafeteria, and see Scott and Stiles already sitting down, rambling away. Lydia catches me by surprise with a tap on the shoulder.

“Are you going to stand here all lunch or are you going to sit down?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, linking my arm with hers. She walks directly to Scott and Stiles’ table, listening in to the end of their conversation.

“Figure what out?” She asks, slamming her lunch tray down and sliding in next to Scott. I sit next to Stiles, directly opposite her.

“Uh just- homework,” Stiles leans over the table to Scott, whispering,

“Why is she sitting with us?” Scott shrugs, just as confused as his friend. “Y/N, I guess?” The table quickly fills up with Lydia and Jackson’s friends. Danny sits the other side of Stiles, shuffling away slightly as the other boy nods, failing to make conversation. Jackson arrives last, telling a guy at the head of the table to get up.

“I hear they’re saying it’s some kind of animal attack. Probably a cougar.”

“I heard mountain lion.”

“A cougar is a mountain lion.” Lydia throws multiple people off guard saying this, and her face suddenly softens and her voice goes higher pitch, “Isn’t it?” She’s clearly smarter than she lets on.

“Who cares. The guy’s probably some homeless tweaker who’s gonna die anyway.”

“Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out.” Stiles holds his phone out so we can all see. A video plays, informing us all that the man’s name is Garrison Meyers, and that he survived the attack.

“I know this guy.” Scott sputters out. “When I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.” Stiles’ face grows shocked, eyes almost bulging out the sockets.

“Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please? Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?” I nearly choke on my apple. A double date? Oh I’m so sad I won’t get to see this. “You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?” Scott starts mumbling, clearly not informed of what was going down.

“Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?”

“Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun.” Allison seems reluctant, but she puts on a smile.

“You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork?” Jackson spins a fork in his hand before Lydia snatches it away from him.

“How about bowling? You love to bowl,” The redhead suggests excitedly.

“Yeah, with actual competition,”

“How do you know we’re not actual competition?” Allison challenges. “You can bowl, right?”

“Sort of.” I’m guessing that means no.

“Is it sort of, or yes?” Jackson taunts, riling Scott up.

“Yes. In fact, I’m a great bowler.” Idiot.

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#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #allison argent #scott mcall #jackson whittemore #lydia martin #teen wolf series #teen wolf season 1

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