let us never be parted


It was perfect, utterly perfect, and Neil felt at once inspired and horrified by the sight of it. How could he possibly play here? He closed his eyes and breathed in, breathed out, imagining the way bodies sounded as they crashed into each other on the court, the way the announcer’s voice would only come through in muffled, scattered bursts, the roar of sixty-five thousand people reacting to a goal. He knew he didn’t deserve this, knew beyond a doubt he wasn’t good enough to play on this court, but he wanted and needed it so badly he ached all over. 

… He’d made the right decision. The risks didn’t matter; the consequences would be worth it. He had to be here. He had to play on this court at least once. He had to know if the crowd screamed loud enough to blow the roof off. He had to smell the sweat and overpriced stadium food. He needed to hear the buzzer sound as a ball slammed inside the white goal lines and lit the walls up red. 

“Oh,” Nicky said … “No wonder he chose you.”

 - The Foxhole Court [Nora Sakavic]

My Favorites.

I’m a bit late to the party this month but better late than never, right? I haven’t done much writing this month but here are my favorite postings. These are pretty much the plots I enjoyed the most and the posts I enjoyed writing.

It’s Not Over Until The Fat Lady Sings (Álvaro Morata), Dog-Sitting (Andreas Pereira) Is There Somewhere (Bastian Schweinsteiger), Bodyguard (Cristiano Ronaldo), Lost And Found (Cristiano Ronaldo), Just A Little Different (Eden Hazard), Photograph (Erik Durm), Painkiller (Erik Durm), D is for Daddy Dearest (Erik Durm), The Art Of Letting (You) Go (Fernando Torres), I’m Gonna Find Another You (Gareth Bale), Drunk /&/ Disorderly (Gianluca Gaudino), I’ll Be There (Héctor Bellerín),  Tell Me A Lie (James Rodriguez), Run Every Time (Jordan Henderson), Not Gonna Write You A Love Song (Julian Draxler), Meet the Parents (Kieran Gibbs), Don’t Forget Your Ring (Lionel Messi), ‘Coffee’ by Miguel (Marc Bartra), What I Did For Love (Marco Reus), Are You Afraid Of The Dark? (Marco Reus), Never Let Me Go, Part 2 (Marco Reus), Use Me (Mats Hummels), Tremors (Mats Hummels), Pity Party (Mesut Özil), The First Day Of School (Neymar Jr.), #BBHMM (Neymar Jr.), Teach You A Lesson (Neymar Jr.), Paying You A Visit (Neymar Jr.), Too Close (Rafinha Alcântara), Happy Father’s Day (Sergio Ramos), Welcome to The Ramos Family (Thiago Alcântara), On The Case (Thiago Silva), Spread The Word (Toni Kroos)

Thanks for stickign around even in my absence! I have been writing little chapters for this Marco Reus fanfic I thought of and it’s really coming together so I’m excited to share it though it will be a while before I do.

REQUESTED: “can you do an imagine where reader is a witch and doesn’t know much about the muggle world and credence teaches her? and like maybe she’s a bit tough but has a soft spot for him and fluff?“

Warnings: None!!

Word Count: 1,076

A/N: Sorry it’s a little short (and a little different from the prompt), I’m still feeling a little under the weather, and it’s like 2AM. Smut is coming tomorrow, hopefully, but for now, pls enjoy the fluff.

The truth was…Credence didn’t know much about the “muggle” world either, as you called it. You had always been asking him questions since meeting him, and he’d done his best to answer. He understood that his knowledge of the world he’d been a part of was rudimentary at best, but you had always seemed to appreciate and value his answers. You had quickly become his favorite person, despite being largely a kind of angry and closed-off person, since finding Newt and his friends after the event in the subway, and when you had asked if he could show you around and give you a tour of the muggle world, all wide doe-eyes and soft smiles, so different for him than you were for anyone else… How could he refuse? Even if he didn’t know enough to give you a proper tour.

So now you were both walking down the street, huddled closely even though you were both wearing heavy jackets to fight the cold, and Credence had absolutely no idea where to go. He could feel the excitement rolling off of you in waves, eager to see a world you had not been allowed to be a part of, but… He couldn’t fight off his unease as he wandered aimlessly, not sure where to go. So he just kept walking, hoping he’d think of something that would be of interest or that would—the Brooklyn Museum. He’d heard people on the streets talking about it when he had been handing out fliers and recalled the interest it had procured in the conversations people walking by had shared, and it had to be the answer, something worthy of your attention. So he hurried off toward it, fighting a small smile as you followed him curiously.

Once you and Credence arrived, the trip being mostly silent and heavy with anticipation, both of you made your way to what had been most talked about—Paintings by Modern French and American Artists. You had been excited to see that Credence had taken you to an art museum, since you hadn’t really seen anything composed with regular hands instead of wands. You had always been an art lover and admired the patience it took, but you just…hadn’t been able to see any yet.

Once you had reached the modern art exhibit, you couldn’t help the immediate stillness that found you as you stood there in front of countless masterpieces, each seemingly more breathtaking than the last. Your breath was currently being taken away at the sight of “The Large Glass” by Marcel Duchamp as you stood wordlessly in front of it, leaning into Credence with wonder. But as you glanced at him to begin speaking, you noticed that he was just as breathless as you, staring in awe at the piece in front of him. It then occurred to you that maybe… Maybe this was a new world for him too. You were upset with your own inconsideration and began to kick yourself about it. How could you have overlooked this? “C-Credence?” You inquired quietly, hardly daring to raise your voice at all.

At the sound of your voice, he snapped his eyes toward you. “Yes, Y/N?” You noticed with some dampened amusement that he didn’t have to change how he normally spoke to fit the scene of silence the museum called for.

“Is this—Have you seen this before?” The question felt small, but the implications were monumental, to the both of you.

When he heard your question, Credence felt heat rise in his cheeks, a tell-tale sign of his shame. He had been caught. “No.” His voice was so hushed that you could hardly hear it at all. You stepped closer to him, gently taking his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, Y/N. My mother, she…didn’t really let us out much. We never got to see…all this. The parts of her world that were…worth seeing.” Still, you would have had to strain to hear him if you hadn’t been standing so close.

You squeezed his hand and brought him into you roughly. Credence would have been alarmed by your movements had he not spent so much time with you, but he knew by now that you were just this way—rough on the edges but trying to be soft for him. You spoke quietly, so that only he could hear you. “It’s okay, Credence. This is more exciting anyway! Now we can learn about this stuff together. It’s a new world for both of us to discover.”

Credence felt his blush deepen as he ducked his head, which normally would have ducked him away from someone, but in this instance just brought your faces closer together and your eyes directly under his as you gazed up at him. “I would really like that, Y/N.” His voice was just a bit louder and somehow softer at the consideration of your suggestion—the idea of learning things with you was euphoric. Gaining knowledge and with someone he cared so deeply for seemed like a dream come true, something he would have deemed impossible…before.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. It’ll be great, and—” At that moment, the two of you were shushed violently by an angry man on the opposite end of the room. Your usual tough-guy flare returned as you turned angrily to face the man’s pretentious stare, limbs stiffening and face lowering into a familiar scowl. “Excuse the hell out of me, but I don’t think you were a part of this conversation!”

The man looked incredulously at you before averting his gaze and pointedly ignoring the two of you. Credence couldn’t help openly smiling at you, small but there, flattered that it seemed that he was the only one to receive your softer side. “Thank you, Y/N. I can’t wait.” Oh, you loved the rasp in his voice, especially when it sounded happy, like it did now.

At that, the smile returned to your face, replacing the scowl. Credence noticed that, when your face relaxed as you looked at him, he could still see the lines of previous anger, irritation, and general passionate feistiness that you normally expressed. He found that he liked that he alone saw this, the way your face could hold such compassion. “I can’t wait either, Credence,” you said as you pulled him into the next room, ready to view all the art in the building.

Credence felt his world expand just a little more.


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Żmija’s guide to Slavic faith: part 1, basic problems

who are Slavs? To properly understand where the differences and doubts are coming from when talking about Slavic beliefs, we have to see how big and varied the slavic nations are. These were many tribes and groups spread on a vast land, and each with their own set of beliefs and interpretations, and their own favourites when it came to Deities. So, the god that was the boss for one tribe in Poland, might not have been even considered a higher deity in another far away one in Russia. However, very often, the Slavs believed in very similar gods under slightly different names, or different Gods under the same name - same goes for demons, spirits, and main myths. Gods’ roles and powers could change a bit depending on a given group as well. Quite a mess there, really, but so much more fascinating to untangle.

Some of the tribes were in direct contact with each other and also other foreign groups, such as Germanics or Balts, hence the similiarites in both their culture and beliefs at some stages. The proto-slavic language quickly gave way to very varied and different individual languages of the given lands, and without a unified way of communication (no early writing systems as well) the differences were bound to arise - however, the roots and similiarities are still amazingly prominent.

We can divide the Slavic nations into West, East, and South Slavs - however, this is a modern classification and it’s important to remember that today’s nations consisted of many, many different tribes in the times we’re interested in.

source? The main problem we face while diving into slavic beliefs is the painful lack of written sources. There are some, obviously, but as mentioned before - ancient Slavs had no writing system. So what we have are either mentions in historical records that either served as trivia or curiosities, or stories supposed to ridicule the slavic faith as “the heathens that believe in lighting or mud or something”. Many sources we have have been awfully contaminated by Christianity, and so is the big part of interpetation and work connected to Slavic beliefs and culture.

However scarce, the sources exist. Most importantly, however, the ancient beliefs are still alive in traditions, rituals, tales and stories and folk songs, and even language itself. We cannot trace every little thing back to our ancestors and back it up with solid written sources, but it doesn’t mean we can’t see the Old in the New, and it doesn’t mean we can’t discover everything anew. 

Neopaganism and rodnovery: made of moss or thistle? As much as I love thistle - and rodnovery, too - it is really damn prickly. Whether you’re a newcomer or a veteran, whether you grew up among strong pagan influences or you’ve been far away from them, you will encounter a lot of difficulties when dealing with rodnovery. I could praise it for centuries - I have met many amazing, warm and open people here. People who helped me grow, people who challenged my ways of thinking and my faith, people who fought for me and with me, and people who turned to me for guidance or friendship. There are many welcoming, wise souls out there, those truly connected to the Old Gods and Old Ways.

And then there are the assholes. These are people who got lost in their own misconceptions and distrust. They are either nearly violently hostile towards Christanity (or any other religion, really, but Abrahamic religions are usually targeted the most, Christianity for obvious reasons) or towards anything different, modern, and open-minded (they are often extreme conservatives, trashing concepts of other sexualities, genders, equality of gender and race etc. often to the horrific degree of actual neonazism…) This kind of people is neither new nor tied only to rodnovery, but it’d be foolish to try to hide it. It is there. And I think it is my responsibility to not only warn, but actively fight these people, and try to repair the damage they’ve done to slavic pagans. But assholes are everywhere, and we should never let them stop us from, well, anything.

Understanding the first two parts of this post is crucial to understanding the complicated nature of our efforts in untangling the mysteries and differences. In next parts I will try to bring the slavic faith closer to the reader who might only rely on English texts - which are, well, scarce, and usually either heavily upg’d, or purely academic.

I work with books and sources based on academic research, and with my own experience (to a lesser scale, as I want to be as close to the core and history as it gets), but I don’t claim to be the all knowing, wise pagan. I’m still learning myself, and there is a lot left to learn. If you have anything to add, or you can correct me, please do!

An Open Letter to Fifth Harmony;

I’ve thought about a million ways that I could possibly explain the depth that your influence has on millions of women around the world. The words seem to fail me, just because your lives, your words, even your music, in its complexity seem to just take over an entire generation of women who are crying out for just a glimpse of confidence. A shred of whatever emotions your presence seems to ensue in us.

All five of you, in the most equal terms, have the ability to move mountains and bring forward a new era of independent, strong and beautiful women. For those of us who have only ever dreamed about a life in the lime light, you provide us with a taste of the realities of it all. Through your actions, you display how unbelievably grateful you are that you’ve had this opportunity, but you also normalize the experience for you fans. Always being true to yourselves and letting us know how sometimes it is so easy to fall in love with the illusion of fame without thinking about the situations that surround it and affect the human mind. For that, sincerely, I thank you. I may not be able to completely understand what it is that you go through every day, but I see how much it takes out of all of you. I see how hard it is to be away from your families for so long, for you to have limited privacy, for you to get trampled because everyone wants to get close to you, for the fear that your every move is scrutinized and analyzed. So, for all of that, and more, I thank you for putting yourselves through it.

It would be naïve of me to make any assumptions about your characters, especially since I’ve never personally met you. To be honest, I’ve only been able to see you perform live once in my life, at Jingle Bash in Illinois a few days ago. But in that moment, right before you walked out on stage, I didn’t see Fifth Harmony. I saw Ally, Normani, Camila, Dinah and Lauren. Five women of different backgrounds, who have worked tirelessly to achieve one thing, which is to touch people with their music. Something which you have excelled at in the most beautiful way.

It’s so hard in today’s society to positively support and promote a group of women without the media’s natural affinity of making them seem problematic with each other. Yes, we are women. Yes, there will always be problems… but they can’t be attributed to the fact that we have XX in our genes, or in other people’s cases, if they identify as such. It must be so hard to work every day against a combative media, just waiting to pounce on an opportunity where you guys to show any glimpse of humanity.

We know, deep down, that behind the amazing outfits and glamorous tour life, that you’re just 5 normal women, who just so happen to have these chosen careers. If you’re anything like your fans, which I suspect you are, you go through the same things we do. You sometimes feel insecure with your bodies, you have moments of self-doubt and emotional overloads. The only difference to other women being that your careers put you in front of the entire world, in some sort of weird display for all to see. If there is anything that I hope is that, behind every single one of you, there is a solid group of people to catch you and support you when you’re feeling like the world is crashing all around you. I hope you all find comfort in knowing that we, your fans, will always be here with open arms. We will support you, no matter your actions, no matter your struggles. We are here because we believe in your genuine selves.

Ally- Whenever I look at you I have this feeling that you have been blessed with an abundance of love and inspiration. You work so hard to make sure that you are happy with yourself and the path you want to be on. You do an amazing job at maintaining an inner peace and devotion to God that brings a huge comfort to us. You are the embodiment of what every girl in the world wants to feel about herself and others.

Normani- It’s crazy to think that you have been in this life for so long. I remember watching airline commercials and modeling skits that you did when you were younger and thinking: “Wow, all this time and she still handles herself so gracefully.” What I think that stands out about you, other than your amazing voice, is the way that you let all your cares and frustrations out with your dancing. We can tell because of how your body will go the extra mile with every move, and how you can say so much without opening your mouth. You don’t just sing music, you feel it, you experience it with your whole being.

Dinah- The first word that comes to mind has always been: carefree. In the way that it always seems like you take life as it is and just enjoy the moment. You’ve always had the strongest connection with the crowd, purely because you feed off of our energy and give it back to us ten times over. Not only do you get lost in your music, but we have enjoyed watching you grow into your family in ways that we never expected. We can clearly see the genuine care you have for them, sometimes the same unity we wish we had with our own. You inspire us to take the time and enjoy those who have been behind us. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself, and letting us be a part of it.

Camila- I have never seen music transform someone so completely when they are on stage. You really make music seem like an entirely different language that only you can speak. We see how it completely embodies you while you’re on stage and how it serves as a comfort to express yourself clearly. The way you get lost in your music every single night is ethereal. You have a beautiful determination inside of you to make every song you write just burst with passion, and I hope you know that we feel it.

Lauren- I am so inspired by your unwavering courage to speak out against injustices. Every single day, you find a way to use your power in a way that will influence people positively. I find it mesmerizing that, even with your hectic schedule, you find the time to educate yourself and spread the idea that knowledge and healthy curiosity is what can drive us to achieve a better world for all. You really are a force to be reckoned with, and I can’t wait to see how you continue to embrace how your voice can make a long lasting impact on society. You’re a natural born leader, Lauren. I truly believe you were put on this Earth to change the minds and hearts of everyone you encounter.

And that’s all I have to say. On behalf of all of your fans, I hope I have done our voice justice. My only goal being to express some fraction of what your fans feel that Fifth Harmony stands for. Once again, Thank you and we love you.

Stephanie Tirado
College Student

i feel so bad. all this time the majority of us would look at suga during broadcasts or shows and wonder why he’s always so quiet or why he doesn’t smile as much or why he doesn’t join in, and some would even get mad at him, or dislike him because of that.

but now we know why he was acting like that and who would’ve ever thought that min yoongi would be so weak and in so much pain, alone.

but he’s not weak. not at all, he has been able to get up and express these feelings to us, his fans, letting us see a part of him we never knew.

thank you min yoongi, for this gift. you worked years for this and deserve all the love and support of this world. i just hope that you are happier now.

such a happy life

prompt:  nervous flyer and random seat mate AU? simon or baz could be either one :D

a/n: this took on a life of its own



baz glances up from his book at the strangled hiss. it’s his neighbor, the cute one with the blond hair- he looks sick. and terrified. baz winces, turns back to his book.

the plane starts a little as it starts taxi-ing, and the blond jumps violently in his seat. baz sneaks another sideways look at him, taking in his corded arms and tightly shut eyes, and feels an unexpected twinge of pity.

he really is cute.

“i have some flight sickness pills,” he suggests casually, flicking his eyes away when the man snaps his head towards the unexpected intrusion. “if you want.”

he can feel the suspicious glare raking up and down him, and shifts his head forward to hide his sneer. and his blush.  


“because i don’t want to be vomited on. obviously.”

the blond stiffens even more, if that’s possible. “no.”

“fine,” snaps baz, and returns to his book.

he doesn’t know why he even bothered.

they’re actually in the air now, and baz is fairly sure that the man would be crying if he had slightly less pride. as it is, he’s very loudly sucking in air and shaking so that baz can feel it from a seat over. he rolls his eyes.

“honestly- take the fucking pills, okay? jesus.”

“i don’t need-” he cuts off as the plane hits turbulence, and his entire body seems to blanch. he freezes, face twisted with panic.

christ- okay, look, just- deep breaths, okay? in, and out.” because it looks as if the stranger has stopped breathing. he doesn’t protest, just squeezes his eyes eyes shut and follows baz’s instructions. 

color returns to his cheeks, slowly, and baz sits back. “do you want-”

i do not want the fucking pills, okay?”

baz sneers. “i was going to ask if you wanted a soda, or something. calm down.” 

he blushes. “umm. right, sorry.” he shuffles awkwardly for a minute. “thank you. my name’s simon.”


he manages to fall asleep, head drooping over to rest on baz’s shoulder. baz thinks about shrugging it off, but takes one look at his face (an awkward affair involving precarious twists of the neck) and decides against it, going back to his book.

the stranger- simon- wakes up, turns green, and hurriedly engages baz in conversation.

they live near each other, it turns out.

they exchange phone numbers. 

“i- well, i wanted to say- i mean- thank you,” mumbles simon, blushing fiery red. 

“it was nothing,” dismisses baz, quirking the corners of his lips up.

“i- you’re- text me,” simon blurts, and immediately flushes darker.

“i will,” says baz, his half smile becoming a fully fledged grin.

they actually end up talking.

simon’s sometimes fucking irritating, but he’s mostly adorable.

they meet for coffee when they can.

they’re at the starbucks where baz works, while he’s on break.

simon teased him mercilessly when he found out.

“you’re so fucking posh, i thought you’d be-”

baz huffs. “what, snow?”

“i dunno,” simon grins. “a king, or something.”

baz grimaces. he’s not far off. “just a barista.” 

simon gives his his signature sarcastic look. “just a barista,” he mimics. baz furrows his brow, genuinely confused.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing, baz.”

one day they go to simon’s flat, after. he opens the peeling door and gestures grandly in. it’s a mess, but baz was expecting that.

“snow, there are-”

simon blushes furiously as he tosses the various clothing items on the couch into the next room. “i wasn’t exactly planning for company, baz, this was a spur of the moment thing.”

“i can see that,” baz sneers, eyebrow raised- but he’s holding back a smile.

they kiss for the first time over crumpled napkins and empty coffee cups- baz breaks away first, reluctantly, face burning and lips parted in a surprised ‘o’.

“sorry,” says simon immediately, face and neck and ears flushed bright red, “i don’t know why-”

baz grabs his collar and smashes their lips together. it’s a little messy, but so are they. 

and it makes simon shut up.

they’re cuddled together on simon’s couch when he asks him to move in with him.

“i know you don’t really like your flat, and- well, you’re over here often enough, so i just thought-”

“snow,” says baz slowly, “are you asking me to move in with you?”

“well, yeah,” simon says, watching baz’s face nervously. baz’s face is still as stone- then he grins.

“of course.” 

and simon wraps his arms around baz’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss that leaves them both gasping.

baz proposes on a beach at sunset, because god damn it some things are cliches for a reason and simon deserves the best. always.

they’re wandering along the waterline, occasionally dipping their toes in the surf, fingers twined together. simon’s grinning, eyes sparkling and hair a mess tinted red by the setting sun.

baz is grinning too, because how could he not when simon’s this happy?

and they’ve stopped.

baz doesn’t feel like his body belongs to him, he’s so nervous- he doesn’t want to mess up. 

simon’s looking at him expectantly, so he clears his throat and reaches for his other hand- they’re facing each other head on, now.

“simon snow,” he begins, and his voice catches. he clears his throat again. “simon snow. you’re everything.”

simon opens his mouth, brow furrowed, and baz silences him with a wave of his hand. “no, just- not now.

“you’re everything, okay? i love you. so much. and i had a fucking speech planned out and now i forgotten it all, of course. 


“you were my annoying neighbor on that flight, remember? i thought you were going to puke all over to me, and you wouldn’t take the flight sickness pills for whatever reason and then you practically had a bloody panic attack but you were fucking cute so i tolerated you. and then i got your phone number.

“and then, when i was feeling bored and lonely, i texted you, and you texted back. and we kept texting. obviously. you remember this.

“and then we met for coffee, and you teased me because i was in my uniform, and i remember wanting to kiss that stupid grin off your face. i didn’t.

“so i fell in love with you and one day you kissed me and all i could think that night was thank fucking god that i had gone on that shitty holiday and thank god you decided that you’d try flying just one more time, right? because otherwise we wouldn’t have met. and i think you saved my life.”

he pauses to swallow, and chances a glance up at simon’s face. his eyes are wide. 

and baz pulls out his ring, and kneels. he doesn’t even care that he’s getting sand all over his suit.

“simon, i love you. so much. 

“will you marry me?”

for a single, heart stopping moment, it’s completely silent but for the sound of the crashing waves.

but then simon’s choking out a “yes, yes yes, of course you bloody idiot-” and tackling baz and there’s sand everywhere but they don’t care, they’re so full of happiness and love-

baz is married in black and simon in white. penny jokes that they’re like yin and yang. they grin at her, hands locked between them.

baz never wants to let go.

“until death do us part.”

they even do that together, falling asleep with wrinkled old fingers clasped and identical peaceful grins.

they lived such a happy life.

Between Beyoncé and Rihanna (and so many more and before). They are forcing y'all to see US, in our own narrative. This kind of freedom is this kind that my mother bled, broke herself for, that she squeezed herself into a box for. That my aunts never married over, and still never found. This letting the rawest, unpolished parts of us shine. The pieces that stay in kitchens, and back porches, in prayer groups and living rooms when the babies are out of ear shot. This is for the girlchildren who were unladylike, unruly, unreasonable. The boogie ice princess who wasn’t, but just wasn’t about to let you break her. The grandmothers who knew your needs so well from a lifetime of forgetting her own. I am so glad to be in this moment. To see Black women and girls younger than me pushing to be their full selves, in whatever way that means for them. We’ve been here. We’ve been whole. Y'all just lucky enough to witness it.

Rizzles Fans

So I took a brief moment to glance at tumblr tonight. Wow. Unrest and disappointment in the Rizzles fandom. I’m not going to comment one way or the other about the recent statements made by one of the R&I showrunners. Instead, my mind goes to the fans. The way I see it, two things can happen from this point.

1) People can jump ship from heartache and anger. Or,

2) We can rise to the occasion and make the Rizzles fandom even better and more active now that the chains of what-if have been removed. We have an answer. Let it be freeing. I don’t know about you, but I don’t need Rizzles to be canon for inspiration. In our works, Jane and Maura are what we make them, and that’s all that matters. So make Rizzles happen where it matters most. I know I will.


[His Unspoken Words]

This isn’t what I had envisioned when I drank those cups you’ve poured. It’s fortunate that it didn’t kill me, you would’ve been all alone through these chaos.

But like a fighter I knew you are, you sat through the hours without wavering. Under the hot sun and through the cold night you continues on, those tiny shoulders admiringly could bear so much weigh.

I wanted to accompany but you would’ve lectured me back to bed and that would’ve been a waste of your breath so I stood supporting from here out of your sight.

The voice that snapped back at me without fear became weaker and eventually without sound. Your frail shoulders and shivering began to worries me, sending Baek Ah was both fruitless and hopeless…How could I have forgotten how stubborn of a person you could be?

But enough was enough, you are my person and I could no longer stand back. The droplets were heavy and cold as ice, it would pierce even those with strong will and it will break your spirit. I know your intentions but I am also your person, we are a team so please accept my protection.

When the gong echoed, my heart sank and it pain me to see your devastation. The lost voice was found, full of anger and disbelief, you screamed your heart out and all I wanted to do was hold you close.

Oh Sanggong will always be in your heart and remember that I will always be here, beside you. The new found strength began to falter as grief sweep through the small figure. You felt cold and weak in my arms and I realised how resilient you were holding on until now.

Oh Sanggong’s sacrifice might be what she thought best but I now realised that I cannot leave you. I could not trust anyone to care for you, I was too foolish to thought otherwise…they simply won’t do. I am your servant, make your request and I will make it happen.
Even till death do us part… I will never let you go.

Just Friends (Nate Maloley) part 11

I struggle to stick my key into my front door due to my bags in my hands. I hear my dog Lyla barking at me from the other side. I push my door open with my foot and step in, only to get knocked on the floor by Lila’s gigantic body. “Oh my babygirl! I missed you so much!” I say to her in a high pitched voice giving her kisses. She eventually goes off and lays in her bed with a big yawn and lays her head down. I pick myself up off the floor. I take a deep breathe breathing in the familiar scent of my home; Summertime and strawberries. I make my way up the stairs to my room. The first thing I do is throw my bags off to the side and flop on my bed face first. I missed my bed. But I’ve grown to love Nate’s more. Just thinking about him gives me butterflies in my stomach. 

-two weeks later-

I’ve stayed at my home for two weeks and started moving just yesterday. Gilinsky is letting us borrow his jeep so we have more room along with my truck. Although Nate and I got most of my boxes at his house there’s plenty more to go. I grab a box and start putting my stuff from on top of my dresser in it, my jewelry, perfumes, hair stuff, you know all that good stuff. I drop it on my bed and tape it up. Grabbing it i make my way down the stairs carrying it in one arm and checking my phone in my other hand. Nate should be here any second to help. Lyla is waiting for me at the bottom of the steps just sitting there thumping her tail gently on the ground. “What my sweet girl, are you excited? You wanna go out front and wait for Nate with me?” As a response she stands up and politely waits at the front door. I open it and she waits for me to walk out first. I watch as she frolics in the front yard sniffing here and there. I smile to myself and turn my attention to Nate pulling in front of my house. I notice another person in the car with him, and I know exactly who it is because he stares right at me, right into my eyes. Sammy. I get a twinge of pain in my chest. To be honest I’m kind of happy to see him, but why is he here? Lyla barks happily and runs over to the passenger door. Sammy opens the car door and stepping out cautiously, flinching at Lyla’s movements. I can’t help but laugh, he’s never seen her before and she’s gigantic, he’s probably scared shitless. Sam hears me laughing and looks over to me just as Lila jumps up putting her paws on his shoulder and giving him a slobbery lick from his chin to his forehead. He stands there with his eyes shut and she turns her head to look at me for approval. I nod towards her giggling and she jumps down and strides back over to me. “You found yourself a girl Sam” Nate says to him smirking. He just shakes his head wiping Lyla’s kisses of his face. “That was slightly traumatizing, I’m not going to lie.” He chuckles. Nate makes his way towards me,”Hey lil mama”, He says giving me a peck on the lips , then goes into the house followed by Lyla.

I cross my arms on my chest and look over to Sammy. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at the ground licking his lips. We stay like that for a few seconds. Without saying a word he walks over towards me stopping a few inches from me. Still without any words exchanged he looks me in the eyes, I can’t help but stare back. He’s so beautiful. He outstretches his arms and clings onto me hugging me tight, nuzzling his head into my neck. “I’m sorry.” He whisper almost inaudible. I can feel the pain in his voice. I wrap my arms around him tight, as if he’d be gone forever if I let go. He starts trembling and lets out a faint yelp causing me to break down. I lightly pull him down to sit on the steps. We sit there sobbing into one another holding on neither of us wanting to let go. I would never. Not in a million years. 

part 12

A/N: So. I know this is like super short and im sorry but I wanted to get part 11 out for you guys, its been too long. I love you guys so much and I hope you enjoyed this small part. And what’s going to happen between Sam and (Y/n)? What about Nate? DUN DUN DUN.