my*fanfiction

DJ Tozier

Richie flung himself across the room to the other end of his large desk after having gently lifting the needle of the record. “You’re listening to the Rock Block with DJ Tozier aaaand that was ‘Hurt So Good’ by John Mellencamp and speaking of hurt, Eddie Kaspbrak you really hurt me but I’m hoping you’ll take me back?” Richie spoke casually into the microphone, not too close though so the sound wouldn’t fuzz up. 

“And now here’s…..” Richie flung himself across the room again on his wheely chair to find his notes. “ ‘Keep On Loving You’ By REO Speedwagon, requested for Julie from Adam, who’s hoping you’ll forgive him for kissing your sister.” Richie read the requested message while holding back laughter and changing the record, setting the needle down and taking off his headphones. He breathed a sigh of relief and bit his lip. 

He’d been building up all his nerves during his classes about asking for Eddie back on live radio…surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was only their college radio station but he put it out there anyway. He was expecting his phone to light up any second with texts from an angry Eddie but it remained dark. He frowned and waited for the song to fade out. “And this is DJ Tozier signing off for tonight. Thank you lady and germs!” He shouted and signed the show off with no problem. He pushed himself away and stood, forgetting the headphones were still around his neck and was tugged back violently as he walked away. 

“Shit!” He cursed and shrugged them off, storming out the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beverly was sitting in the courtyard with her legs crossed, sweating up a storm with Mike to her right. Between them sat a small radio they’d bought at a garage sale for just this purpose. Mike turned the dial off and sighed. “Richie’s nuts.” He shook his head and Bev giggled. 

“I think it’s cute.” She shrugged “I wish someone would do that for me.” She chuckled as Ben and Bill approached them. Ben put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up with a grin. 

“Poetry too outdated?” Ben asked and teasingly poked Bev’s shoulder. She tapped her fingers on his hand. 

“Never. Keep doing it.” She smiled and stood to kiss his cheek. Bill plopped down next to Mike and started to pull out all his homework. He set it down in a large pile as Stan strolled over, raising one of Bills books to his eye and browsing through it as he sat down. 

“C-c-catch Richie’s s-show?” Bill asked him and Stan put the book down. 

“I support him, so I turn it on but….If I’m honest, I put the volume so low it’s basically muted.”Stan said with a straight face. Everyone giggled and Bill punched his shoulder. 

They heard some distant shouting and all turned to see Richie Tozier barreling towards them, tripping over his feet and tumbling to the ground. He started to stand until Mike held his hand out and helped him. “You guys know if Eddie listened to my show today?” Richie asked, catching his breath and disregarded any possible injury he might have for what was important to him. 

The five of them looked to each other and shrugged. “Sorry Rich maybe he missed it-” 

“RICHIE FUCKIN’ TOZIER!” came a loud shout and all six of them shot their heads to the right and spotted the tiny Eddie Kaspbrak stomping over.

“Oh shit.” Richie went limp and stood frozen in his spot until Eddie came to stand toe to toe with him. He had to tilt his chin so far up to look him in the eyes, luckily Richie’s head blocked the sun. 

“Did you have to ask that on the radio? Do you know how embarrassing that is?” He crossed his arms and Richie bit back a grin. Of course he knew that, it was part of the appeal. The rest of the five watched them awkwardly. 

“Y’know me, Eds. I love to embarrass you.” He went to rub his fist through Eddie’s hair but he swatted him away. 

“We’re too frickin’ old for that Richie. Can we just have the fight I’ve been building up in my head?” Eddie pouted like a child and Richie nodded, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

“Does the fight end with you taking me back?” Richie poked him and Eddie sighed. 

“Possibly.” Eddie pondered it over in his head and answered. Richie nodded again. He took his hands out of his pockets and shook himself as if preparing for a physical fight. 

“Alright, hit me with your best Eds.” 

“You never shut your God damn mouth and you fuckin’ embarrass me any chance you get and never and I repeat, NEVER tell my professor I was late because I was dirtying it up with you ever again, you hear me Tozier!” Eddie stomped and their five friends gaped their mouths open, so that was the reason for the break up. 

“Dirtying it up? That’s not exactly how I phrased it, Eds.” Richie chuckled with amusement at the fuming Eddie who gave him an expectant look. 

“Alright. I agree. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” Richie pouted and brought Eddie closer to him. Eddie allowed it and from the background they heard Mike whisper ‘Ohhhh gettin’ interesting.’ Eddie shook his head.

“Ok, you’re officially taken back.” Eddie smiled and Richie picked him up and spun him around. 

“Yeah! I knew you’d miss me!” 

Eddie giggled and punched his shoulder. “Put me down, ass.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is the Rock Block with DJ Tozier and that was ‘Baby, I Love Your Way’ by Peter Frampton, requested by myself for my boyfriend Eddie Kaspbrak because Mmmm Baby I Love Your Way.”  Richie hummed in a sing-songy voice before signing off. This time almost immediately, His phone bore light into the room from Eddies texts.

Richie picked it up and read 

‘That was sooo embarrassing!! (Keep doing it <3)’

Richie broke into the biggest grin. 

Stalemate

This ficlet is part of the Claire returns early with Bree AU which begins with A Ringing Phone and a Folder.

This ficlet is a direct continuation from Je Suis Prest

My Fanfiction Master List

Available on AO3 as The Nature of Choice.

This is an Outlander canon divergence AU.

As always, let me know what you think.

Keep reading

archiveofourown.org
Show Chapter | Archive of Our Own
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Transformations - Chapter 3

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia
Relationship: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead / Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Language: English
Summary: When Aizawa moves into a new apartment a few months before the start of his teaching career at U.A., he finds he’s now neighbour to All Might’s private secretary. Though he has little love lost for his boisterous boss, Aizawa is quite drawn to the meek man he lives next to. Of course, there are quite a few things he doesn’t know about Toshinori Yagi.

Opinions on a Throne of Glass multi-chapter idea…

A while back, I did a prompt exchange with my ultra-talented BFF @tacmc. It was called Missed Dreams and Lost Sleep. (If you haven’t read it, you can check it out HERE.)

How many of you would be interested in reading a short spinoff of that oneshot?

Sound off in the comments below and I’ll get to work on that, along with my ACOTAR Rockstar AU’s as well!!

Here’s a semi-vague hint if you’re wondering what it will be about:

Originally posted by pyatts

megelizabethvh  asked:

Oh my goodness, I saw this and thought of you! (Modern AU where Richie confesses his feelings for Eddie through text and when Eddie doesn’t text back he’s hurt and is about to call Eddie and yell at him when Richie realizes he never sent the text in the first place) would you be interested?

~Richie was curled up on his bed, posture poor and hunched per usual as he stared down at his checkered squares blanket. About three squares away from him on the blanket sat his phone. It was unlocked at his brightness was unnecessarily turned up all the way. He pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed, reaching for it again. He tapped the side as he stared down at it but made no move to type. The gray bubble from the last time he’d texted Eddie read, ‘Bite the big one, Tozier’. Richie chuckled, hearing it read in Eddie’s voice in his head as he remembered that conversation they’d been having. He shook his head. That wasn’t the point. 

He’d been fighting with himself for over an hour just to get enough courage to press send on his typed out message. But every time he hovered his thumb over the blue send icon, he would cower out. He bit his lip and it all played out all the same, he hovered over it but quickly sighed and laid his phone down again. “Shit.” He mumbled. Richie Tozier was no chicken. Finally, he closed his eyes, because the gesture was brave enough to allow the one chicken move, and pressed send, immediately closing the app afterwards. He let out all his breath and realized that he’d have to wait now. So in order to keep himself from just pain staring at the phone, he turned on the television. 


After what felt like the 80th laugh track from some Full House re-run, Richie mumbled to himself “I’m funnier than him.” He rolled his eyes and turned off the tv. He frowned and rolled off his stomach and looked to his phone again. No notifications. Richie wanted to fling the stupid thing out the window. The blank screen mocking him. ‘How could Eddie just ignore him?’ Sure he was no poet like Ben but he thought his text read just fine. 

‘Hey, Eds I just wanted to let you know I lost that comic book you lent me and also I’m in love with you.’

As long as he was confessing things, he thought it was as good a time as any to tell Eddie he’d lost that book. But he still had no answer and it was making him want to tear his hair out.

 The anxiety was causing his hands to fidget as he looked at the clock, it’d been twenty minutes and still….nothing. In frustration, Richie jetted his hand out, unlocked his phone and flicked through his contacts, tapping with built up anger on ‘Eds :)’ . 

He listened to the soft ringing as he bit into his lip. “Hello-?” 

“Eddie Kasprak! I confess my love to you and you ignore me? I’ve been waiting for you to say something and you’re end is just dead-?” 

“Richie, what are you talking about?” Eddie interrupted him and Richie had to catch his breath. 

“Didn’t you get my text?” Richie asked, still breathing heavily and Eddie was silent for a few seconds. 

“No. What text?” 

Richie’s stomach dropped and he rolled right off his bed in anger. At the thump, Eddie was reeling. “Rich? Richie…hello?” 

Richie sat up and shook his head and put the phone back to his ear. “It didn’t send….I knew I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, I’m such a chicken.”

“So….you confessed your love to me?”  Eddie repeated Richie’s earlier rushed statement softly and Richie gulped. He licked his lips and started fidgeting again. 

“Yeah…but I could take it back, if you want.” Richie tripped over his words and mumbled in a way comparable to a child. Eddie chuckled softly. 

“Take it back? What are you nine? You don’t need to take it back, Rich.” 

“I don’t?” Richie repeated with a smile growing over his entire face. 

“I feel the same way.” Eddies voice went small and insecure, Richie was triumphant. He pumped his fist into the air and held back and excited yelp as he jumped on his bed like he wasn’t seventeen years old but actually nine. Suddenly, he remembered something.. 

“Hey Eds, by the way I lost that comic book you lent me.”

“Oh my god Tozier, I hate you.”

“That’d only be true if you weren’t so in love with me.” Richie teased in a sing-songy voice and Eddie scoffed. 

“I’m hanging up, you ass.”

“But I’ll see you tonight, right?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” and with that, Eddie hung up with a huge grin on his face. 

‘The Beauty of a Lost Art’ Chapter 49: Buzzing About

My sweet bumblebee,

               I was thrilled to see how happy you are about this! You had picked me up and twirled me around in your arms before dropping down to your knees and kissing my belly. Thank you for comforting me every morning I’m sick; I know it’s not the prettiest sight. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night to find you composing lullabies for our little bundle of joy. I love seeing how enthusiastic you are about fatherhood. I love you, Sherlock. I am so excited for this new journey we’re about to take on together; marriage and a baby.

It has been a month since we found out and you’ve been busy trying to make preparations for our little one even though it’ll be months before it’s born. I think it’s best we slow down a bit and just focus on getting married next month. Our friends are so excited for us as well as your family…our family. I believe your mum’s exact words were, ‘A wedding AND a grandchild? I must be dreaming!’ She’s so happy for you. For us. Mycroft’s reaction nearly shocked me…he HUGGED me. Actually hugged me and you! I think he’s excited to be an uncle. I thought it was adorable when Rosie asked where the baby was and John explained that it’s ‘growing in Aunt Molly’s tummy.’ She then proceeded to hug my still-flat belly.  

Thank you for bringing me lunch and ice cream. Nothing sounded good in the canteen today and I was craving nachos. I’m sorry if I interrupted anything, but you assured me it was only a three and not worth your time. Your mum called to say that she’ll have everything handled as far as setting up the backyard garden for our wedding. Do you have any idea how happy I am to soon be married to you? We’ve come so far, my love. We grew so much together and we’ll continue to grow (especially me in every sense of the word; my belly’s going to be huge!)

My mum and dad used to tell me to marry my best friend, and I am doing just that. We’re always there for each other and love one another unconditionally. There is nothing we wouldn’t do for each other. I know you inside and out just as you know me. We understand one another like no one else. There has never been a lie told between us in all the years we’ve known each other. I love the way you look at me and your beautiful smile; I love being silly with you and the way we snog like teenagers. I don’t have any fear about this new journey we’re on; I am not afraid because I have you. You are the love of my life, Sherlock Holmes and nothing will ever change that.

I love you and our little baby bee does too.

With all my heart and soul,

               Your Molly and baby xxx

p.s. get home soon, mister, I think we need to do some lovemaking tonight (and no, I promise, you won’t hurt the baby).


fanfiction.net | ao3

Tea Cures All Ills

Nygmobblepot Week Day 3: Domestic

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12143922

Ed falls ill before the infamous dinner and Oswald tells him to stay home instead of getting wine. Basically, a sick!fic.

Rated General, warning for short but mildly disturbing dream

archiveofourown.org
In Another Life - Chapter 16 - lunabelle - Parks and Recreation [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Here is another piece of my “Three Years Too Long” AU, from one of the prompts from the AU list found here. Honestly, if it weren’t for @meet-me-onthe-equinox I probably would have never kept going with this. One more piece of this universe to go! :)

Note: This is just one chapter of my larger, varied AU collection.  The chapters are all different drabbles and not part of the same story…hence, “chapter 16″ in the link…

sighlolly  asked:

pleaseeeee can you do one where Eddie is jealous of Richie because he is spending too much time with other friend

~Hues of pink bloomed and tinted Eddies cheeks from under the small dots of his freckles as Richie played with his hands. The seven of them were sprawled out in different positions on the bed of Richie’s car in some field. It had been Bills idea drive up there after graduation. He’d been enjoying the slight tickle of Richie’s fingers as the boy turned Eddie’s hand over and traced the lines of his palm when he abruptly pulled away and leaned his head over the ledge of the car’s bed. Beverly was standing there, fishing something out of her pocket which turned out to be her pack of cigarettes and Richie waited expectantly. She shook her head and slid one out, shoving it into his mouth with a smirk. “Aye, that’s not very ladylike of you, Bev!” Richie chuckled and sat back down, leaning on the small wall. He lit the cigarette and tossed he back her lighter.

Eddie studied the way the two of them constantly disregarded each others personal space and it drove him nuts. He watched the red flicker of Richie’s cigarette from the reflection in his glasses and tried to hold back his cough. But alas, it overpowered him and he coughed into his elbow, disrupting his boyfriend. 

“Oh sorry, Eds. I’ll take this somewhere else.” Richie smiled, patting Eddie’s knee as he hopped off the bed and trailed somewhere else. Eddie had previously said he didn’t mind if Richie smoked, just as long as he wasn’t around. He almost regretted that now. Considering the fact that elsewhere was sitting in a little isolated spot in the grass with the only other smoker at the present moment, Beverly. Eddie could never dislike Beverly but remembering the way Richie had stared at her that day at the quarry a couple years ago, made him dread seeing her and Richie hanging out. God, he swore they were all obsessed with her in that moment. Eddie rolled his eyes. Sure he’d stared too but in a different way. 

He heard Beverly start to laugh and glanced up and caught sight of Richie most likely coming off from doing some voice, he bowed slightly and put the cig back in his mouth. Eddie frowned. the two of them seemed to really enjoy the others company and they did spend a lot of time together alone too. It was ridiculous. And he knew that. Everyone knew of the invisible tension that existed between Bev, Ben and Bill. But Richie could be a good break from that for Beverly, he could make things a little less stressful, he could make her laugh…at least that’s what he did for Eddie. He bit into his cheek. 

From his seat in the grass, well blanket covered grass, Stan stood and strolled over. He hopped onto the car bed, plopping down next to Eddie who gave him a questioning face. “They’re gonna start the fire and make s’mores. I don’t really like eating them. they get chocolate and marshmallow everywhere…I’d rather not get all sticky.” Stan cringed and looked back to Eddie.  “They wanted to know if you were gonna join but Richie said you don’t like sitting around the fire cause of your asthma…?” He let it fade into a question just to make sure Eddie didn’t have a different answer. 

“He’s right.” but he wished he wasn’t. He knew that Richie was just being considerate but a part of him was bitter that he was continuing to laugh it up with Beverly while he was stuck here. Stan nodded, gritting his teeth as he watched Richie bite into a disastrous mountain of sweet. He looked to Eddie so he wouldn’t have to look at it any longer only to find Eddie glaring at the same boy. 

“What’s up, Eddie?” He asked and Eddie frowned. But, he could trust Stan. 

“Bev and Richie sure do get along great.” He continued to frown. Stan chuckled. 

“Are you jealous?” 

Eddie reluctantly nodded and Stan made a confirming ‘ohh’ sound. “Surely I thought you’d be the one who most understands that Richie’s gay. considering the fact that you’re dating him.” Stan smiled teasingly. Eddie chuckled and turned to face Stan. 

“I know it’s dumb but…I mean they spend a lot of time together and ….-” 

“Look, Eddie. Unfortunately, I spend a lot of time with Richie too. and the motormouth never shuts up about you and you two are pretty much attached at the hip.”

Eddie giggled. That was true. Wherever one went, the other surely followed. 

“You got nothing to worry about.” Stan reached out and rubbed Eddies shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Aye! Stanley Urine, I trust yer not putting the moves on me boyfriend, huh?” Came Richie’s poor English accent as he hopped over. Stan rolled his eyes and scooted off the car. 

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Stan smiled as he retreated over towards their friends. Richie watched him go before standing in between Eddies legs, that were swinging off the ledge. 

“It’s boring without you, so I thought I’d come keep you company.” He smiled, tugging on Eddie’s hands. 

“You don’t have better company over there?” Eddie scowled slightly and Richie looked back at where it was directed, Bev and then back at Eddie. He chuckled. “You think I have the hots for Bev?” 

Eddie didn’t say anything. 

“Eds, if you don’t know I’m gay by now-” 

“I know, forget it.” Eddie shook his head and Richie frowned. 

“Sure I love Bev…but I’m in love with you Eddie.” Richie said, a little flustered and for a moment, Eddie couldn’t breathe. 

“You’ve never said that before.” Eddie’s face broke into a huge grin and just sort of stared in wonderment. Richie cleared his throat. “Oh! I’m in love with you too.” Eddie abruptly reached his hands up and pulled Richie down by his cheeks, smashing their lips together, the Losers cheering in the background.

“Freed in the Rain” - Miraculous Ladybug Soulmates AU Fanfic

Guys, I wrote my very first solo ML fanfic!  I usually only do the drawings for fanfic collaborations but this time I wanted to try doing both!  I wrote it for @chocoluckchipz‘s birthday!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUCKY!!!  @maerynn-blog, @kryallaorchid, @midnightstarlightwrites and myself wrote oneshots all with a Soulmates AU theme.  Here it is on Ao3 (I wrote Chapter 4)  

Author’s Notes:  Everyone knew that if you had a soulmate, you would know them by the first time you touched.  Skin-to-skin contact would show you all of your soulmate’s memories, and would result in an immediate bond and passionate fidelity.


“I’ve never been to school before.  I’ve never had friends. It’s all sort of new to me.”  Adrien shrugged sheepishly and turned back towards Marinette.

He smiled, holding his umbrella out to her.

An olive branch, she realized. An invitation to start over.  Marinette thought back of how quickly and harshly she misjudged him; he was but another victim of her tendency to act first and act questions later.

He hadn’t deserved such treatment and here he was, taking the initiative to make things right. Her stomach fluttered, and had she not been so tongue-tied she would have apologized, but nothing came out.

A crash of thunder brought her back from her reverie and she blinked.

She hesitantly lifted her hand, wavered for a moment, then their hands brushed together as the umbrella was exchanged.

Thousands of words and feelings came rushing towards them at once, so sudden and overwhelming that they fell helpless to its current, a tumultuous river of events and places. They could not tear their eyes away from each other, the realization of what was occurring rooting them to the spot, otherwise they might have collapsed right then and there from the shock.

The world ceased to be, and all that existed was a boy and a girl.  A cacophony of voices and emotions surrounded them, unheard to anyone else, accompanied by the quiet spattering of early autumn rain.

Adrien felt warmth. The smell of butter and sugar, the taste of hot chocolate and cinnamon. Lingering embraces, playful pats on the head, a mother’s love and comfort. Strong arms and tight hugs, excited hollers, mashing buttons on videogame controllers. A homey, comfortable bedroom, a haven from the world. Pinpricks on fingertips, the act of plunging into an artistic frenzy, and the satisfaction from when a creation turned out just right. Tripping, slipping, stumbling here and there, always seeming to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Numerous insecurities, the bullying and mocking from a sneering face he knew very well. Overwhelming self doubt as a certain pair of earrings was hidden away in a drawer. Gentle hands on her shoulders, encouraging words, and a reassuring smile from a black clad teammate. The surge of newfound confidence as she purified corruption and evil in the form of a black butterfly.

Marinette felt cold. Countless faceless figures staring, prodding, scrutinizing, empty praises, blinding flashes and camera shutters. A stunning woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, once a source of comfort, gone. The constant feeling of loneliness, abandonment and despair. The infrequent acknowledgement from the one man he wanted to please the most. His large, empty bedroom, a glass prison meticulously outfitted just for him and his boundless solitude. The feeling of the crisp air in his lungs and the burning in his legs from the very first time he sprinted and jumped across Parisian rooftops to see how fast he could go. The thrill of watching the girl in red who was meant to be his other half, brilliant and beautiful, rescuing his childhood friend from certain death, formulating ingenious strategies, and defeating a magical giant made of stone.  Sheer pride at seeing her succeed against her fears and become not just a hero, but a symbol of goodness. The love brimming within his heart, spilling over into what used to be emptiness. How can such a broken heart still house such great love and kindness?  Her eyesight became blurred by tears, unbidden and unstoppable.

It lasted merely an instant but it felt like a lifetime, and the teens pulled away from each other as if they’d been shocked by electricity.   Neither made a move but continued to stare, the tears kept flowing, and Adrien choked back a sob.  

They had found each other.  Partners, yes, but also something more.  

The light to his darkness.

The calm to her chaos.

Something rare and wonderful had been gifted to them and fate had allowed them to meet and become complete.  

Marinette jolted forward, wrapping her arms around Adrien’s waist as tightly as she was able, wanting to offer whatever solace she could, the comfort and love he so desperately needed, fiercely determined to try to make up for all those years of neglect and loneliness.

He clung to her as if she would disappear at any moment, almost convinced that this was too good to be true, too wonderful, too miraculous.

Feelings of protectiveness and devotion consumed him, not understanding how he could harbor such intense love for someone he didn’t know.  But he did know her, and she knew him.

More than anyone else in the world ever did.

The umbrella lay forgotten on the pavement as the two teens embraced in the rain, not noticing or caring that they were getting drenched, for the love that was shared between them was more than enough to keep them warm.

This beautiful piece of art is by @johix, thank you so much!

It’s Finally Christmas by Mirjamiarty (12k, Teen)

John has moved back to Baker Street, and there is definitely something in the air. However, it takes some travelling, casework and late night confessions until they are finally able to find each other again.

"No, it's a hicky."

It was Friday night in October to of course that meant another game, an away one this time.
The night before, Neil and Andrew had been making out, Andrew asking a quiet “Yes or no?” before kissing and biting at Neil’s neck upon his consent.
That morning, the Foxes had all noticed it in morning gym but they didn’t have death wishes so none of them mentioned it. The Freshmen tried to but shut up when they got glared at by Allison and Dan.
On the bus, Nicky had made a not-so-vague comment about hickeys and how hard they can be to cover up and how he wishes Erik was there to give him some - he shut up when Erik skype-called though. But of he didn’t shut up for long; instead, he stood and sat down on the edge of the seat next to neil and Andrew.
“Say hi to Erik you two!” he said. As he did, he grabbed Neil’s head and pulled it to the side, showing off the not-concealed mark.
Andrew almost lunged at him and gave him a death glare before returning to his position of being curled up innthe corner of the seat with his head against the window.
“I don’t have a death wish,” Erik said, “so I’m just gonna say ‘nice hair, Neil’.”
Neil smiled.
“Hey Erik,” he said.
“Move up,” Nicky decided. But Neil shook his head.
“Go sit on your own seat.”
“But I wanna sit with you guys,” Nicky whined. “And there’s room if you budge up closer to your boyfriend.”
“I can’t,” Neil said. When Nicky went to protest again, Neil gestured to Andrew, who hadn’t moved. “Andrew can I move closer?” he asked.
“No,” Andrew replied flatly.
Nicky pouted, but before he could say anything, one of the freshmen shouted out “Where are we?”
“I thought we were in Colombia?”
“Of course we’re not in Colombia idiot - that’s the wrong way.”
Frowning, Neil and Nicky looked at each other before looking out the window. After a few seconds, they both paled.
They weren’t in Colombia, but the scene outside was far too familiar for comfort.
Rows of houses with fences and drives passed by them as they drove. The road and houses were all too familiar.
“Coach?” Nicky called, voice shaking and visibly less energetic. A lot of the Foxes turned to look at him. “Why are we going this way?”
“It’s a shirtcut,"Abby replied as they went around a corner.
At Neil’s side, Andrew curled in on himself more. Neil felt sick. Even though he knew it wasn’t the same place, it looked far too similar for comfort.
"What is it?” Dan asked, looking at Nicky. Of course she didn’t look at Andrew - she probably didn’t notice how upset he was getting.
“It just looks like somewhere in Colombia,” Nicky replied quietly.
“It does?” Allison asked, looking out the window. “I thought Colombia was fun?”
“Nicky?” Dan asked, concerned.
Now all the Foxes were looking at him.
“It just looks like the street my parents live in,” the tall man replied quietly, eyes fixed on his younger cousin who was perfectly still and curled up in a tight ball.
“Shit,” Allison deadpanned.
“Oh Nicky,” Abby said, turning around to look at him. Except she knew to look at the three of them - and Aaron and Kevin who were in the seats in front. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think…” she trailed off. In the drivers seat, Wymack sighed.
“It’s only for another few turns, boys.”
Nicky nodded, solemnly returning to his seat, Erik speaking quiet German to him.
“Hey,” Jack said. “Have any of you guys heard Drake’s new song?”
Matt punched him.
Neil hardly noticed any of that though; all he notices was how stressed andrew was getting the longer they were on this street.
“Coach,” he called, “any chance you can drive any faster?”
Five minutes later, they were on an open and busy street, lined with shops instead.
“'Drew?” Neil asked quietly.
It took a while, but slowly Andrew turned to him.
“Talk,” he said.
And so Neil talked.

..
He talked until they got to the stadium.
In the locker room, he changed his shirt in a separate room, walking out and fixing the rest of his gear with the others.
None mentioned the very obvious mark on his neck.
“Minyard!” Coach called at lineup.
Andrew turned.
“Zero,” Wymack said. Andrew nodded stiffly.

The Foxes won, 7-0.
This time, it was Neil’s turn to go with Dan on press duty.
“Only because Kevin’s voice is sore,” Wymack had sighed. Nicky had volunteered to supervise, and so stood behind Neil and Dan in the press corner.
On his way over, Neil had removed his helmet and neck brace.
The reporters hounded them both, asking the typical questions; how they felt about the win, what they thought of the other team. And then:
“So is that mark on your neck from a nasty bump in practice, Neil?” one of the reporters asked.
Neil frowned, brow creasing in confusion.
“No,” he said. “It’s a hicky.”
Dan grinned. Behind him, he heard Nicky scream delightedly.
“No further questions,” Dan quickly said before she and both boys made their way into the foyer and changing rooms.
“How are the press?” Wymack asked wearily, taking in their expressions; Dan’s grin, Nicky’s ear-to-ear grin and bounce in his step, and Neil’s vaguely confused frown.
“Neil told them flat out the mark on his neck is a hicky not a bruise!” Nicky sang.
Wymack groaned.
Nicky grinned the entire way home. Neil sat with Andrew, who said nothing but was thankfully more relaxed than he had been on the drive down.

When they got back, the pair went off to their room, ignoring Nicky’s kissy noises from the main room.

And if Neil had a few more marks the next day, no one mentioned it.

Divination Class

I haven’t posted a fic on tumblr in a while, so I hope you guys like this one. I decided to do an eighth year fic where Simon and Baz take a divination class. One vision later, and chaos ensues. 

Word Count: 2599


Simon

As an eighth year, students at Watford were required to take at least one semester of divination. Simon, like many other students, thought the class was ridiculous and a waste of time. But it wasn’t up to him, so he begrudgingly followed Penny and Agatha to class.

“This is stupid,” Simon muttered.

Penny made an unsatisfied clucking noise.

“It isn’t actually. The prophecy that predicted your arrival? That was the result of an oracle.”

“So?” Simon asked.

“So, you coming to Watford is a result of divination, the thing you think is stupid,” Penny said.

Simon rolled his eyes.

“Okay but we aren’t oracles are we? I don’t have time to waste on crystal balls and tarot cards,” Simon said.

“We’re also studying divination bones,” Penny said, excitement in her voice.

“What do you have to do that’s so pressing Simon? Chase Baz around some more?” Agatha asked.

Simon felt heat color his cheeks.

“No. I told you that I decided to give up on that. Wherever he was at the beginning of last term isn’t my business,” Simon said.

“Then just be grateful we get to take an easy class this semester. It’s almost a guaranteed A,” Agatha said.

“Fine,” Simon said.

They made their way into Madam Bellamy’s classroom, Penny looking hungry to start right away and Simon and Agatha trailing behind looking bored. Simon eyed Agatha nervously. They had broken up a couple of weeks ago, and though she’d been acting perfectly normal ever since, Simon worried that at any moment she might stop talking to him altogether. 

Madam Bellamy strode into the room, her expression a combination of nervousness and enthusiasm. Simon could tell that she already knew how most people felt about the divination requirement; it was if she was already steeling herself for the snickering comments of disbelieving students. She cleared her throat prettily before speaking. 

“Even though today is the first day of classes, we’ll need to begin with lessons right away. We only have one semester to get through quite a bit of material,” She said.

Simon heard an ill-disguised snicker from the other side of the room. He knew who it was before he looked up. Baz had a hand over his mouth, smiling underneath his palm cruelly. Although Simon didn’t buy into the whole divination thing, it pissed him off that Baz could look so coolly derisive about it, especially in front of Madam Bellamy. 

Madam Bellamy didn’t react; instead she walked over to the table at the front of the room. On it sat several strange items; cards, bones, herbs, glass vials, and bowls. There was one item that Simon did recognize, a crystal ball. She strode over to it and stroked it casually with her hand.

“Today we will begin with what I’m sure is most familiar to all of you. Yes, I know, it’s sort of laughable but I promise you there’s credibility to the practice.”

She passed out the crystal balls, smiling gently at everyone as she did it. Simon glanced uncomfortably at his crystal ball, his blue eyes reflecting back at him in its shiny surface. 

“Today you will attempt to gaze into your crystal ball. Most likely, you won’t have any results. But next week? Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to put all Normal psychics to shame,” Madam Bellamy said.

Simon felt strange, as if the ball was all that he could see in his field of vision. He brought up his hands to hold the ball.

“Now, I’m going to turn off all of the lights and close all of the windows. We’ll light some candles to provide a more appropriate level of light.”

Simon couldn’t feel Penny at his side any longer, or Agatha. All he could feel was the crystal’s smooth surface on his palms. 

“When you look into your ball, try to visualize and focus on what you’d like to know. You may call me over if you are confused or need clarification.”

Simon couldn’t concentrate on anything except the crystal ball, not even his own thoughts. He knew he wasn’t doing it right, that he was lost to the object instead of asking it what he wanted to know, but he couldn’t stop what was happening. He was falling deeper and deeper into whatever magic existed in the ball, and eventually he couldn’t hear the rest of the room. 

His crystal began to mist, like something was appearing inside of it. Simon felt his stomach drop as hazy images began to appear inside the crystal ball. He tried fighting it, to get away from what was happening, but he couldn’t let go of the ball. And then he was seeing himself, inside of the crystal ball. He looked angry and there was someone else there with him. The person stepped forward, and Simon could see hair as dark as pitch. Baz was with him and by the set of his shoulders he was just as upset as Simon looked in the crystal’s surface. And then the unthinkable happened. Simon watched himself kiss Baz. He waited to see Baz throw him off and kill him once and for all. But that never happened. Instead, Simon watched in awe as Baz kissed him back, like it was everything he’d ever wanted. 

Simon gasped and fell backwards off of his chair. All of his senses came back to him and he saw that everyone in the room was staring at him. But the only eyes Simon sought out were grey and glaring at him. Simon felt blood rush to his cheeks, felt as if electricity was washing over his bones, and couldn’t break his gaze away from Baz. Eventually, Baz’s glare turned into something else, as if he were confused and maybe a little scared.

The lights flicked out suddenly, breaking the connection between Simon and Baz. Simon shook his head and was helped up by Penny and Agatha.

“Simon, are you all right?” Madam Bellamy asked.

Simon shook his head, trying to get ahold of himself. 

“I uh…I’m sorry. I need to go clear my head.”

He walked out of the classroom, visions of black hair and kisses trailing eerily behind him.

Baz

Something strange had just happened to Snow. While the rest of the class had been drifting off to sleep in front of their crystal balls, Snow had been staring intently into his. He’d even broken into a sweat before he fell out of his chair. After he threw himself out of his chair Baz thought darkly. Baz had never had much skill in divination; it required a lot of magic and a lot of patience. Snow did have a lot of magic, but had even less patience than Baz had. It didn’t make sense for him to have seen something in his crystal ball, but what else could send him running from the classroom, pale and shaking?

There was also the strange look that Snow had given him before the lights had come back on. It was like he could see Baz, actually see him for everything that he was, in that moment. It had left Baz feeling vulnerable and exposed, like at any moment Snow could have reached out and made tangible all of Baz’s deeply hidden feelings for him.

Baz left the classroom quickly after Madam Bellamy released them, chasing after the only person wearing a cape in the room.

“Bunce!” Baz shouted, shouldering past Trixie.

Bunce froze and turned around, her face guarded but a little curious.

“Yes Basilton?”

Baz smiled, not kindly.

“What was Snow’s problem? Did he see me taking Wellbelove to the Leavers Ball?”

Bunce frowned.

“I actually don’t know what he saw, not that I’d ever tell you anyways. All I could see was mist. Whatever he saw, it was only meant for him to see.”

Baz blinked, suddenly feeling very nervous.

“You mean…he didn’t tell you what he saw?” Baz asked.

Bunce narrowed her eyes.

“No. Why do you ask?”

Baz frowned and turned away from her, hurrying towards his room. Something shocking had to have appeared in the crystal ball, something so intense that Snow didn’t feel comfortable telling his best friend about it. Which meant one of two things, either Snow saw Baz doing something very bad or he saw him doing something Baz didn’t even want to think about. 

He flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was going faster than a human would, which was stupid, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to find out what Snow saw, and try to do damage control. He could always try to convince him that he hadn’t seen what he’d thought he had, or that he’d let his magic get away with him, but Snow was the most stubborn person he knew. 

He burst into their room.

“Snow?” He asked.

But there was no one in the room. Snow was gone.

Simon

Simon had been avoiding Baz for two days. Ebb had let him stay with her; he’d pretended that Baz was busy with a school project and that he was trying to give him some space. Ebb seemed like she knew he was lying, but that she didn’t mind. Simon had only been going to classes he didn’t have with Baz and leaving a few minutes early so that Baz couldn’t track him down.

He knew Baz was looking for him. 

Simon wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did it mean that the Baz in the crystal ball was real? That there was some part of him that cared whether Simon was in their room every night? That wanted Simon to kiss him? Every time Simon tried to wrap his head around what he saw he was always left feeling lightheaded and a bit twisty, like someone was wringing his stomach. He knew he wasn’t ready to face Baz, but he also knew he was out of time. Simon couldn’t hide with Ebb forever; he’d fail all of his classes.

Sulkily he sat out with the herd in front of Ebb’s door, petting a goat softly. He sometimes found comfort in the goats, he didn’t today. The soft crunch of grass made him look up and freeze. Someone was coming towards them, goats trailing behind him.

Baz made his way towards him, his expression unreadable. He had a baby goat in his arms; it slept there comfortably, like it had been there for a while. When Baz reached him he sat next to him, careful not to disturb the kid in his arms.

“Found this one trailing towards campus, don’t know how he got there,” Baz said. 

Simon frowned. A baby that young wouldn’t have wondered so far on its own, it would have had to have help. Suddenly he remembered the looks Ebb had been giving him for the past few days, all the gentle questions about how Baz was doing. Simon sighed angrily, he was definitely going to remind Ebb the next time he saw her that he could sort out his own life just fine on his own.

“I do,” Simon said, gently taking the baby from Baz’s arms and laying him on the couch inside Ebb’s place.

“Snow?” Baz asked.

Simon felt his muscles lock down, tension singing through his body.

“Yes?”

“Can we talk?” Baz asked.

“Sure,” Simon said.

“In private?” Baz continued.

Simon dropped his head in defeat.

“I guess, yeah,” Simon said.

Simon already knew where they were going as they walked away from Ebb’s house. Baz and Simon only ever talked in private in one place. They trudged silently towards the Mummers House, secrets swirling between them.

Baz

Snow wouldn’t look at him. They were climbing the stairs to their room, side by side. Baz felt his heart thrumming fast, as if he was waiting for something to happen. He didn’t know what Snow was going to say when they got to their room or what he was going to say for that matter. But he knew something was going to change. 

Baz opened the door to their room and positioned himself against the wall across the room. He wanted to appear unbothered, as if none of this was really affecting him. 

Snow trailed in after him, still not looking him in the eyes.

“What’s going on Snow? You’ve been gone for days,” Baz said.

“I’ve been avoiding you,” Snow said.

Baz paused. He hadn’t expected Snow to be so blunt, or to be so willing to answer his questions.

“Why?” Baz asked.

Snow huffed angrily.

“I think you know why,” Snow said.

Baz crossed his arms.

“You saw something, in that crystal ball. Something you shouldn’t have,” Baz said.

Snow laughed, the sound brittle and exhausted.

“I should’ve known I couldn’t avoid it,” Snow said.

“Avoid what?” Baz asked.

Snow finally looked up at him. His jaw was set angrily but his eyes looked different, open in a way Baz had never seen them.

Baz strode forward, getting into Snow’s space.

“What did you see?” Baz demanded.

Snow sneered angrily.

“Why do you care?”

Baz wanted to kiss him. He wasn’t sure why but he had a feeling that if he did, Snow might actually let him.

“I think you know why,” Baz said, repeating Snow’s words from earlier.

Snow bit his lip.

“I didn’t understand, not at first. I thought…it had to be wrong. That I could never feel…that I didn’t…” Snow trailed off.

Baz felt like his whole world was waiting on Snow to finish his thought.

“But I do. I did…I always did…”

Snow reached forward and pulled Baz’s jacket lapels forward, bringing his face with him. Baz closed his eyes, not believing what was happening and reveling in the fact that it was. Snow kissed him, reaching up slightly and pushing his hands into Baz’s hair. Baz shuddered, felt as if he was coming apart under Snow’s mouth. He went slightly pliant, not sure how to kiss Snow back but enjoying the feel of it nevertheless.

Simon

He’d known the vision was coming true. As soon as he’d stepped into the room and finally looked Baz in the eyes. He couldn’t deny his feelings in that moment. He’d spent years writing them off as animosity, as concern over Baz’s plans. But it wasn’t that, not really. He could no longer deny that the fast beating of his heart was because of how Baz looked at him, not because he was afraid. 

He was kissing him and it felt better than it had looked in the crystal ball. Baz’s mouth was cool and a bit immobile, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. But his hands were intent on Simon’s neck, and his hair was just as soft as Simon had always imagined it would be.

Simon slid his tongue into Baz’s mouth tentatively, unsure if Baz would want to kiss like that. But then Baz’s tongue slid into his mouth and Simon couldn’t think at all anymore. He was just sensation, raw and needy. He was hot and cold all at once, his skin blazing and Baz’s tongue sliding coolly in his mouth.

When he broke away, he was unsurprised to see his own feelings reflected in Baz’s warm grey eyes. 

“I used to think divination was stupid,” Baz said.

“So did I,” Simon said, breathing heavily.

They didn’t say it, they didn’t have to. They both knew the truth now; that this was always meant to happen, that the crystal ball hadn’t shown Simon anything they hadn’t both already known, deep down.

Till There Was You

 The guitar strings let out a wonderful vibrato as Richie’s rough fingertips, tingled slightly. He’d spent the better part of half of his junior year learning to play the instrument, intending it to be an electric guitar that he’d had his eyes on the past summer. But when his money came up short, it was the perfect amount for the beautiful acoustic that matched the wood coloring of Eddie’s home. And Richie couldn’t resist. 

He was pressed against the crumbling backside of his own home, weeds of green twisted and molded onto the brick. But he rubbed against it anyway, fingers strumming consistently in a familiar rhythm. He usually avoided the very idea of his friends, his losers, coming to his home but his parents were not on the premise today so he figured he was safe. Not so subtlety, he planned to show off what he learned. It was his favorite type of day, the sky a cloudy gray and you could just tell that in the coming breeze there’d be rain. The echoey strokes from his instrument made him give in to his urge to hum as his legs started to feel the cooling wind. Each of his friends had different ways of letting him know they were listening. 

Bill was quietly tapping his shoe, Mike was soundlessly lip syncing words not yet sung, Ben was whistling softly, Beverly was humming along and Eddie was next to him, head flat on Richie’s shoulders tapping the beat down Richie’s arm. 

Stan couldn’t help it. He started to sing the song in a whisper and followed the passing birds with his eyes. Richie tried extra hard not to mess up and let his fingers guide him. Everything was pure silence apart from the chilling somber beauty in the tones of Stan’s voice. 

“ There were birds in the sky But I never saw them winging. No, I never saw them at all Till there was you”  

The wind grazed goosebumps over each of the Losers skin or maybe it was Stan’s voice? Either way, it was welcomed. Stan’s eyes fluttered closed as one of his curls blew over his forehead, he continued to pat out the beat on his knees. It was a necessity to let Stan have his solo but soon enough, slowly every Loser joined. Their voices had never song quite so in tandem and maybe would never sound this good again. 

It was the sweetest thing Richie had ever heard coming from his home in his life. Richie sniffled in the chilly air begging to blow it’s way into Autumn. 

“  There was love all around But I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all Till there was you “

Eddie was singing perhaps the quietest of them all. But luckily, Richie was right beside him. The arm of his guitar crossing over Eddie’s chest. Richie tilted his head to allow Eddie to whisper the words into his ear. And to close out the short tune, Everyone faded out and let Stan sing the last verse alone again. And Richie played out the last bit of guitar and the moment was over. 

Their first hint of rain was the sound of tiny splashes against Richie’s window panes. Everyone tilted their chins up and broke out in laughter, hustling up to run inside Richie’s back door. Richie kissed Eddie’s nose softly and jumped up, running over the blades of grass.


when all seven bodies were sprawled on the patterned carpet that had been tainted in his mothers drunken vomit not but two days ago, Richie had spent all day cleaning it, They chatted contently. Ben had even offered to make his special apple cider tea, he’d brought the tea bags with him and luckily, Richie’s bare kitchen had enough to handle the rest. 

When his hands were curled around the apple cider, heating his palms and taking tentative sips, occasionally kissing the taste from Eddie’s lips, he was happy.  He looked around their circle, half of them now buried under blankets. “We should start a band.” He proposed and everyone giggled. Richie had never been so comfortable in his own home. 

anonymous asked:

Prompt because I can never have enough angst in my life: Elorcan modern AU where they get in a fight and one of them leaves the house with hurtful words thrown at each other, one of them is severely injured somehow?? Idk really

This was only supposed to be like 1,000 words, oooooooooops.

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“I just don’t understand why you’re so angry! I didn’t do anything!”
Elide and Lorcan were in the kitchen of his small apartment, the latter leaning on the counter with his arms crossed across his chest, while the former had her thin arms braced on the table.
“Oh, please,” he spat at her. “This Luca guy wouldn’t continually ask you out for no reason. You’ve never even told him about me, have you?”
“Of course I have, Lorcan!” She said, spinning around to look at him. Her arms fell to her sides helplessly. “Every time he asks me to hang out after work, I politely tell him no, because I have you.”
He growled, “Maybe I need to tell him, and not so politely.”
“What were you even doing there?” She asked.
Lorcan ran a frustrated hand through his long hair. “What? Am I not allowed to visit you at your job?”
“You are,” she sighed, “But you kind of ambushed me.”
“Ambushed you?” He asked, his voice raising. “I was trying to surprise you! I was-.”
Cutting him off, she asked incredulously, “Were you checking up on me?”
“For the last time, NO!” He roared. “I just wanted to come surprise you. But then I walk up and I see that asshole had his hand on your arm and then you, you actually touched his chest! And I hear him telling you about how he’ll take ‘good care of you’ at the party on Friday night? What party, Elide? Huh?” A humorless laugh left his mouth. “On second thought, maybe I do need to check up on you at work.”
“I’m not a child, Lorcan.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“And,” she said, ignoring his comment, “you don’t own me.”
With his long legs, it only took three steps until he was standing directly in front of her, towering down over her small frame. He grasped her left hand and held it up, letting the light catch on the diamond ring encircling her finger. “Do you see this, Elide? It means that you are mine, and only mine. You are not my possession, but you are mine, to protect, to care for, to love.” He let go and her hand dropped limply to her side. Turning around he walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a beer and popping its lid off.
“Baby, I-.”
“Just get out, Elide,” he cut her off, not turning around to look at her. “Go home. I need to…think about some things.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He’d never asked her to leave. In all the years they’d been together, they always worked their fights out. “Lorcan-.”
“Get out.” He growled.
Breathlessly, voice shaking, she asked, “What do you need to think about?”
“Leave, Elide. Now”
Silently, Elide grabbed her keys off of the counter and her purse from the kitchen table. She walked to the door and with a hand on the knob, called to him, “I love you.”
Nothing but silence answered her from the kitchen.
————————-
Lorcan knew he had overreacted.
He knew he was an ass and that he should never have asked her to leave. He didn’t need to think about shit. He loved Elide Lochan, and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The happiest day of his life was the day she had agreed to marry him.
This Luca prick at work was going to have to stop though. He texted her non stop and apparently had been asking Elide out every week without fail. He may need to make a stop in on Elide’s next day off.
For the thousandth time that night, he rolled over and looked at her empty side of the bed. By now, her inky black hair would be draped across her pillow. Her clothes would be in a heap at the end of the bed. Her small frame would be curled up against his. He ran an exasperated hand down his face.
He fucked up and he knew it. He rolled over and picked his phone up off the nightstand. She hadn’t texted him even once, hadn’t called him. He expected that she would’ve texted as soon as she got home, but she must have been pretty upset with him. She hadn’t tweeted or posted on Facebook or anything, which led him to believe she fell asleep as soon as she walked in the door.
He could hear her cries in his head and he felt like a piece of shit for causing her pain. Swallowing his pride, he sent her a text.
“I’m sorry. I’m a jealous ass, but I love you more than my own life. Call me in the morning. I love you so much.”
He watched the little, blue bubble send off and waited for it to read “Delivered” underneath. Hell, maybe he’d get lucky and it would show up as “Read”. If it did, he’d call her. He’d blow her phone up until she answered and he’d apologize for being the piece of shit fiancé that he was.
But it never delivered. The blue bubble turned green as it sent as an old school text message. Lorcan’s eyebrows rose and he decided to call her, to see if he could fix this now. It immediately went to voicemail. Her phone must have died.
Sighing, he rolled over and put his phone back on the nightstand. He’d fix this in the morning. He’d go see her in the morning and he’d make everything right. But first, he needed to get some sleep.
————————-
There was a pounding on his door. Lorcan sat up and jumped out of bed, grabbing the 9mm he kept on his nightstand, next to his badge. The banging continued. A look at the clock on its surface told him it was just after two in the morning.
Popping the safety off and loading one in the chamber, Lorcan crept through his apartment until he got to the door, where the pounding was still happening. A glance at the peephole had him groaning and setting his gun on the small table Elide had distressed and placed by the doorway. He swung open the door to reveal his partner dressed in his blue uniform. “What the hell are you doing here, Whitethorn? It’s two in the gods damned morning.”
“Lorcan, we need to go, now.”
Immediately, Lorcan was on red alert.
“What are you talking about?”
The man in front of him, the man he’d known his whole life and worked with on the force for over 4 years, that was pain in his pine green eyes. Pain and pity.
“It’s Elide.” His heart stopped. “Lorcan, there’s been an accident.”
————————-
Rowan was just starting his overnight patrol when he got a call over his radio about an accident involving an overturned vehicle on South Terrasen Rd, headed towards Adarlan. Since he had just made a stop nearby, he radioed that he was close and turned on his lights.
As he approached the accident, he turned his spotlight on and his heart dropped into his stomach.
An extremely familiar car was wrapped around a tree, upside down.
Rowan had pulled over friends and family members in his 4 years with the Erilea Police Department. He’d had to arrest former classmates and people that he knew. He’d even had to escort funerals of people he’d known his entire life. He’d never had a problem putting on the mask that made him “Officer Whitethorn” and staying professional. Until tonight.
He jumped out of his patrol car, screaming, “Elide?!”
He sprinted towards the wreckage, calling her name, listening for her to reply. He heard nothing.
Grabbing his radio at his shoulder, he called out, “This is Officer Whitethorn, I need paramedics to the accident on South Terrasen ASAP.”
He reached the car, just as his radio went off. “How many passengers?”
He got on his hands and knees to look into the car and almost vomited due to the fear coursing through his veins.
Elide was hanging from her seat, held in by her seatbelt, thank the gods. However, her arm was crushed between her body and the door. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and he could see a bone piercing through her forearm. Blood was trickling from her head, originating from a wound he couldn’t see in her hair. She was unconscious. And he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
He radioed back to the dispatcher, “One female passenger, I can’t tell if she’s unconscious or de-.” His voice broke. “Deceased.”
The radio clicked back. “Standby.”
Grabbing at his shoulder, he called back, “Dispatch, I’m going to attempt to remove her.”
Silence met him.
“Officer Whitethorn, wait for assistance. Erilea Fire is on the way and-.”
“The passenger is Officer Salvaterre’s fiancée.”
More silence. A new voice came through the radio.
“Are you positive it’s Elide?” The usually confident voice was shaking.
“It’s- it’s her, Manon,” he said, wiping the sweat that was starting to appear on his brow.
“Did you say deceased?”
He closed his eyes. “I- I can’t tell, she’s not in good shape, and I-.” He paused and had to collect himself.
“Get her out of that gods damned car, Rowan. I’m calling Aelin.”
He took that as permission and sat on the ground, leaning back on his hands. With Elide unconscious, he didn’t have to warn her to look away. Pressing his boots against the passenger window, he brought his legs back and smashed his feet into glass. It shattered, sending shards everywhere in the car. Elide didn’t so much as twitch.
“Elide?” He called out, hoping just maybe she would hear him and wake up.
Crawling into the wreckage, he reached a shaking hand to her neck and felt for a pulse.
He waited, his body going cold.
There. There it was.
It was weak, so faint that he could barely feel it.
“Manon!” He called over his radio.
“Go, Whitethorn,” Asterin’s voice called back.
“She’s alive, but she’s fading fast.”
A silent pause met him. “An ambulance is close, less than a mile away. Can she hold on that long?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I haven’t even gotten her out of the car yet. I just got her pulse.”
“Continue on, keep us updated.”
Elide’s left arm was crushed by the door, her right hanging below her body. He had to do this carefully. One wrong move and she would fall from her seat and that could be it. He ran a finger along the seatbelt, and that’s when he noticed blood on her abdomen.
A shard of metal from her mangled door was jutting directly into her side.
“I can’t get her out,” he said into the radio. “She has a laceration on her left side. Wreckage and shrapnel. I don’t know if it’s hit anything major. I can’t risk cutting her down without an ambulance here.”
Manon’s clear voice called back to him. “It’s almost to you. Asterin is tracking them. The EFD should be pulling up any second.”
“10/4.”
Rowan did the only thing he could think to do. He took Elide’s limp hand in his own and prayed. He prayed to every god and goddess he could think of, regardless of what they were the deity of. After a moment, he heard approaching sirens and crawled out of the car.
The engine parked and men jumped out. In the darkness, they all looked the same and he couldn’t point a single one out until he heard “Whitethorn!”
Running over to the Captain, he passed the other men and relayed the information he’d discovered to them. As he approached, Chaol grabbed his arm. “Is it really Elide?”
Rowan ran a hand through his silver hair. “Yeah, it is. It’s not good, man.”
“Have you called Aelin?” Chaol asked.
He shook his head. “No, Manon said she would. I need to let Lorcan know though.”
Chaol’s chestnut eyes were somber. “Go. Fenrys and Gavriel are on their way.” An ambulance was pulling up and a second patrol car was behind it. “Get out of here. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Rowan clapped the man on the shoulder and ran to his patrol car. Getting in, he dialed the number of his oldest friend, trying to figure out how he was going to tell him what had happened. He didn’t answer. Hanging up, he dialed him again. No answer. He left a voicemail.
“Man, I need you to answer or call me back immediately, it’s an emergency.”
He sent him a quick text saying the exact same thing.
Turning the car on, he tried to dial him one more time. As he pulled away from the accident, glancing at it in his rear view mirror, he sent up one last to prayer to anyone who was listening.
————————-
By the time Rowan and Lorcan pulled up to the hospital, Manon had called Rowan, letting him know they’d had to cut Elide from car. They’d taken her to the hospital and she’d gone immediately into surgery. Not only had her arm been destroyed, but there was bleeding and swelling on her brain and her common iliac artery had been severed by the wreckage.
Lorcan hadn’t said a single word since Rowan appeared at his door and he wasn’t about to push his friend to speak. Had the roles been reversed, Rowan didn’t know what he would’ve done.
They sat in a silent waiting room, as one by one their friends filed in, in various states of emotion. Aelin and Lysandra were barely holding it together, where Manon was a stone wall of strength, the only indication of her fear being the vice grip she had on Dorian’s hand.
Lorcan’s elbows were braced on his knees, his hands knotted into his long, black hair. Every now and then, his friends would hear a quiet sniff come from him, but for the most part, he was a shell of his normal, sarcastic self.
Bits of every conversation floated over to him.
“When did it happen?”
“I wonder where she was going.”
“She got off work at 10:30, I don’t know why she was out so late.”
“Why wasn’t she at home?”
“Because of me,” he whispered, and the waiting room went silent.
“What?” Aedion asked, Lysandra’s hand held tightly in his own.
“She wasn’t at home because of me,” he said again, dragging a hand through his dark hair and tying it in a knot at the back of his head. Faint tracks could be seen from tears that had slipped down his face. “We- We had a fight. It was stupid.” He pulled his hand over his face, wiping the tears away, sniffing. “I told her to get out. I made her leave. And now…” He trailed off, and the warrior broke down. No one had ever seen Lorcan cry. Elide was the only who had ever been able to break down his walls.
Manon stood up, taking careful steps across the waiting room, and stopped in front of the broken man. He glanced up at her.
And a silver tipped hand smacked across his face.
The waiting room erupted into chaos. Dorian pulled Manon back across the room as she started to yell at Lorcan, who just sat there, blood pooling from the thin scratches she’d left on his face. Aelin stood up and got in Manon’s face, Rowan quickly grabbing at her to pull her back to her seat. Aedion, Lysandra and Asterin stood back ready to grab someone and drag them out if need be.
“Excuse me?!”
The group of friends silenced and found a stoic man standing by the entryway to the OR, wearing scrubs.
“Which one of you is Mr. Salvaterre?”
Lorcan’s head snapped back up and he stood. “I am.”
“I need to speak with you.” With that, he walked towards the desk, away from the group.
Lorcan watched him walk away and felt a small hand squeeze his own. He looked over to Aelin and nodded, before following the doctor.
“How is she?” He asked, stopping in front of the man.
“I’m Dr. Emrys Mistland. I’m the chief operating physician tonight.” He held out a hand.
Lorcan took his hand and shook it but didn’t say a word, waiting for the man to answer his question.
“Sir, were you aware that your fiancée was 7 weeks pregnant?”
Lorcan felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“She was pregnant?” He stopped. “Wait, was?”
The old man looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid there wasn’t much we could do, with it being that early. We had to make the decision to focus on Elide.”
“Is she okay?” Lorcan asked. “Is she awake? Can I see her? Can I talk to her?”
Dr. Mistland gave him a sad look. “I’m afraid there’s a chance that Ms. Lochan won’t wake up. Not for a while, at least.”
The world was falling out from under Lorcan. He was going numb. He listened to the doctor, as he explained Elide’s multitude of injuries, and how they’d stabilized her, but he only heard parts of what the man was saying.
His Elide. His fiancée. The mother of his unborn child. When she’d left, she’d told him she loved him and he didn’t say it back.
And now he might never have the chance.
————————-
Four days. It had been four days since he walked into this hospital at 2:30 in the morning. Lorcan hadn’t left once.
Aelin and Manon and even Aedion had offered to stay so he could go home and shower, so he could get some good sleep.
“I’m not leaving her,” was his response every time.
Everyone had come to see her by this point, and with every passing day, more and more flowers were piling up. Cards were dropped off. Through out it all, Lorcan never left her side, never let go of her hand for more than a few minutes.
He cradled her left hand so carefully, running his thumb over the empty spot on her finger. His other hand reached up and fingered the mangled engagement ring he had slipped onto his necklace.
Standing, he brushed her dark hair back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He headed down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. He called Rowan to let Aelin know there’d been no change this morning when the nurses came in to check her vitals. Making his way back down the hall, he noticed the door to Elide’s room was cracked open. He knew he had shut it when he had left.
Quietly easing the door open, he found a man in his early twenties looking over Elide’s flowers at the window, his back to Lorcan. As he stepped inside, the door creaked and then man whirled, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a card in the other.
“Can I help you?” Lorcan asked, instantly going on his guard.
“I, uhm,” the younger man stammered. “I work with Elide. Everyone wanted me to come drop this off.” He held up the card, and set it on the table with all of her flowers, cards and other gifts.
“And those?” Lorcan asked, indicating the flowers.
“I wanted to drop them off,” he said, blushing. “Are you her brother?”
Lorcan was seeing red. This was him. This man was the cause of the whole situation they were in right now. If he would’ve just taken no for an answer the first time, the fight never would have happened, and he never would have asked Elide to leave that night. She never would have wrecked. They never would have lost their baby.
In a clipped tone, he said, “I’m her fiancé.”
The color bleached from Luca’s face. “Her fiancé? She wasn’t kidding?” He took a step back, away from the man who was almost a foot taller than him. “I thought that was just something she was saying, I never thought she meant it.”
Lorcan closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths. There was nothing that he wanted more than to beat the hell out of the kid standing in front of him, but taking the high road, he said, “I think you need to leave.”
“I- Uh.” He looked up into Lorcan’s murderous eyes. “Okay.”
Without another word, he dropped the flowers on his chair and left the room.
Making his way back over to the chair, he picked the flowers up and carried them across the room, dropping them into the trash can next to the bathroom door.
“Surprised you didn’t beat his ass…”
He spun around and saw Elide’s dark eyes were opened slightly.
“Elide,” he said, his voice cracking, and he ran to her. He carefully placed a hand on either side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. “I thought I lost you,” he cried.
“Not that easily,” she said, so quietly he could barely hear her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so gods damned sorry, Elide. I never should have told you to leave.”
“You did nothing wrong,” she rasped, her good hand coming up to weakly grip his wrist, her thumb stroking the skin there.
“I love you so much,” he said, unable to stop the tears at last. “When I found out what happened, the only thing I could think of was the fact that you told me you loved me when you left and I didn’t say it back, and I would never get to tell you how much I loved you again.”
“I wouldn’t mind being reminded a little more often,” she joked, and he barked out a broken laugh.
“Every single day,” he promised. “Every single hour, every single minute. I’ll make sure you know just how much I love you.”
And for the rest of their days, he would.

"We both know you don't mean that."

It was Friday night after a home game, so Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, Andrew and Neil were at Edens. Nicky threw back his fifth “celebratory” shot in the last three minutes. The Foxes had won of course, 5-1.
After another few shots, Aaron and Nicky disappeared to the dance floor and Kevin downed another packet of dust. Andrew and Neil sat at the table, Andrew drinking whatever concoction Roland had made him and Neil nursing his coke.
For once, Neil lost track of time. He didn’t count the minutes and didn’t count the songs or the shots or the drinks Kevin was inhaling. He barely kept track of how much coke he was drinking himself. He relaxed. He was safe. They all were.
He was…. happy.
A while later, Andrew abruptly stood up from his chair.
Neil looked over at him. “What-”
“Stay.” Andrew didn’t say anything else as he turned away and made his way through the crowd, disappearing in seconds.
Neil turned to Kevin but didn’t bother to ask the question- the dark haired man was slouched and half passed out already.
Cursing, Neil looked around again. Andrew had told him to stay, so by all rights he should do just that. But Andrew had looked stressed, alarmed… frightened. Neil ran his fingers through his hair, cussing himself out for relaxing to the point he didn’t notice Andrew’s state. Normally he would’ve seen this coming.
So he did the only thing he could think of; he counted and he scanned.
30 seconds.
He scanned every face he could see directly in front of him.
60 seconds.
He turned and scanned the faces across the room near the booths.
120 seconds.
He turned again and scanned the faces behind him.
180 seconds.
He turned again and scanned the faces near the bar.
240 seconds.
He kneeled up on his seat and tried to glimpse the people coming up and down from the dance floor.
300 seconds.
Absolutely no sign of the blonde.
Neil tried calling him but it went to voicemail. He texted but it stayed unread for another 100 seconds.
By now Neil was panicking. This wasn’t like Andrew.
With a final look around, Neil got off his seat and made his way to the bar, turning and scanning faces the whole way.
He waved down Roland who sauntered over.
“How many this-”
“Where’s Andrew?”
The question clearly took the man by surprise as he blinked and rocked back on his heels.
“What?”
“Andrew got up and disappeared a few minutes ago,” Neil said. Six minutes, his brain silently added. “He’s not answering.” Neil knew Roland and Andrew used to make out so of course Andrew trusted the man. Neil just hoped he knew Andrew well enough to know where he would go off to like this.
Roland was silent for a few seconds before he spoke carefully.
“Did he say anything?”
“He told me to stay in my seat,” Neil said, trying to ignore the guilt at the fact he clearly wasn’t doing that very well.
Roland seemed to think that too but didn’t say it. Instead he looked around.
“Did he say anything in Andrew language?”
Neil blinked. Maybe Roland did know Andrew well after all.
“He looked stressed. I think he might have had a flashback,” Neil said hesitantly. Roland’s face dropped. “He looked scared.”
Roland chewed his lip, looked around the room again.
“Two options,” he said quickly. “Either the hallway to the back exit or the storage room. Come on.”
With that he hurried around the bar, waving at one of the other barstaff before he arrived at Neil’s side.
Neil followed the tall man through the crowd until they got to a locked door. Roland keyed in a code and pushed the door open.
“Minyard, you in here?” he called out. Neil couldn’t help but note the gentle undertones of his voice. After a few seconds he reached in and flicked the light on. He pushed the door open more and stepped in enough to look behind it, before flicking the light off and letting the door shut.
“This way,” was all he said as he lead Neil through the club to another door, keyed in another code and pushed the door open enough to step in and turn to look around. He sighed and stepped back, holding the door open for Neil.
Suddenly nervous of the state Andrew could be in, Neil gingerly walked forward and into the hallway. Roland shut the door behind him and Neil squinted in the dull orange lighting. A few yards down the hallway, Andrew sat on the floor with his back against the cement wall, and had drawn his knees up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, his head bowed.
Neil chewed his lip before moving down the hall, and sat a foot away from Andrew. He didn’t say anything and didn’t look at the man beside him, instead gazing forward ar the cement wall across from them.
“I told you to stay.”
It wasn’t a question but Neil answered anyway.
“You did.”
Silence. “You also gave me a key,” Neil continued. “You gave me trust. You gave me honesty. You gave me another chance. You gave me hope. You gave me a life.” Now he turned to look at Andrew only to find the blonde man already glaring at him. “You told me to stay.” Neil held the icy blue gaze. “So this is me doing that.”
Andrew’s glare intensified and he turned away.
“I really fucking hate you,” he said, but his utter stillness gave away how untrue that was now.
“We both know you don’t mean that.”
It wasn’t a question so Andrew didn’t answer.
The two sat in silence another few minutes before Neil asked the question circling around his head.
“What happened?”
Andrew was silent for a full two minutes before he replied.
“Where are we?”
“Edens.” Neil didn’t know where this new line was going.
Andrew glared again. “Neil.”
Neil tried to think of another response.
“Colombia.”
Andrew returned his glare to the poor cement wall. “I saw someone who looked like him.”
It took neil a few seconds but when he realised who Andrew meant he felt so stupid for not realising sooner.
“We could leave.” Neil didn’t look at Andrew by his side. “Drive to your house. Or we could go back to the dorm.”
Andrew was glaring at him again.
“And those other three idiots?”
“They have legs,” Neil said. “Andrew if you need out of here, we can leave right now.”
Andrew’s glare softened a little and Neil already knew the answer.
Andrew stood up and Neil followed him down the hallway to another door with a pushbar, and then out into the cool night air. They walked quickly to the car parked in the lot around the corner and as Neil caught the keys Andrew threw at him, he realised just how bad the flashbacks must have been for Andrew to not drive.
“Where are we going?” Neil asked as he started the engine and pulled out of the lot.
“Home.”
Neil turned the car and drove to Andrew’s - Nicky’s- house, parking the car out front.
They sat in silence before Andrew stiffly got out the car and walked up the drive. Neil sent a quick text to Nicky -
‘Andrew & I left early, Kevin’s still at the table. U’ll hav 2 walk to the house.’
- before hurrying up the path after Andrew.
They walked into the house together and Andrew lead neil upstairs to his room. Neil hovered in the doorway.
“Do you still want me to stay in here? I can take the couch if you’d prefer.”
The blonde looked at him for a few seconds.
“Stay,” he said again.
On Andrew’s request Neil took his armbands and shirt off before getting into bed and answering ‘Yes’ to Andrew tracing his scars to ground himself in the present.
The two fell asleep and Neil did as Andrew had said. He stayed.