one's fled

I got some thoughts on Little Nightmares. As usual for me, I am more interested in everybody else and not the main character. Typical me.

Anyway as far as the world goes the basics are not hard to grasp. You are a human on a giant’s vessel. Giants were known to be maneaters in many of the different cultures they appear in, so raising and preparing human like domesticated livestock is no big surprise.  

What I am interested in is this particular crew. Been looking at things and the websites and I got some info. Like many others, the sight of fat customers coming aboard to eat en masse reminded me of tourism/the food industry-and with The Lady looming over as she does, it’s not hard to deduce she runs this eatery. Now here’s what it says about “The Lady” on the site -

“Admist the chaos of the world outside, The Maw is the only place that makes sense.”

It gives off the impression she might have been drifting before, lost, without a purpose and without a place to belong. Obviously she looks Japanese and aside from the eatery, not a lot of other places in the boat follow that aesthetic. She is far from home. But not just that-I think the others were lost too-if fact I think they were all together before as well. Look at this one-

-”he fled the world and found The Maw.”  People point out the painting of The Lady with other shadowy figures when contemplating the identity of Six, but you’ll notice the other pictures are quite interesting too. I believe our man here is in one of them-the chefs too. 

With the chefs, I’m thinking they were probably twins who were born fused together separated a little after birth-more on that theory later though.

.

 Mr. Legless sure looks like Mr. Arms tho. That The Lady keeps pictures of them gives me the impression they must have all known each other for a long time-predating The Maw. 

Not only that, but they are all wearing masks. The Janitor’s mask seems to be peeling and blocks his view, The chefs can be seen scratching under their mask and The Lady is wearing a much more obvious mask. Perhaps they are all from the same place and are trying to “blend in” with their new found culture/people. -Another interesting possibility-they are outcasts even among giants. The smashed mirrors, the masks and the Janitor - maybe these were originally a band of misfits-rejected at home who drifted aimlessly for a while before finding a place to belong, a place that “makes sense”. 

After all, no one cares what you look like if you’re serving up grub. 

This game, I hear, was originally called Hunger. Once you play the game yourself, you’ll see how that theme remains. Hunger drives what we assumed to be an innocent little girl to prefer to kill and eat others savagely to survive. Hunger can take you dark places. The Maw itself is a dark place, I’ve heard a youtuber comment after seeing it all that Six became “like them”. 

Perhaps hunger was also what drove them to such an extreme. Fattening, slaughtering, serving, in an endless cycle. It’s not pretty but it keeps them alive. It’s a purpose-it’s a living. 

Maybe this was something the game was trying to get across. How ruthless the fight for survival can really be and how things like good and evil can sometimes be made to take a backseat when you’re starving to death. 

Nothing To Be Afraid Of

Warnings: Alcohol

Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader, Zach Dempsey x Reader

Requested by: anonymous

Request: Omg your Jeff imagine was super cute! Can I request a Jeff imagine where the reader is dating Jeff but she’s best friends with Zach cuz they grew up together so Jeff gets a little jealous? (You can make it as fluffy or whatever as you want 💕)

A/N: I’m such a newbie to this whole imagine thing urghh. I hope you like it, anon. Let me know what you think.

SEND IN REQUESTS

Originally posted by cynicalsunset

You and Zach Dempsey were childhood friends. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. However to some, namely your boyfriend Jeff Atkins, it supposedly looked like you and Zach were ‘an old married couple’.

When you were younger, Zach’s mom and your mom would arrange play dates for the both of you. You and Zach had been friends since you were both in diapers. Long before the social segregation that came with high school. This meant that no matter how popular Zach was, he would always find time for you. After all, you were his best friend. The bond shared between you and Zach was unbreakable, but strictly platonic. The friendship you had with Zach was nothing compared to what you felt with Jeff.

No matter how many times you would reassure him that you loved him and only him, Jeff held a spark of jealousy whenever he saw you and Zach together. Seeing how happy Zach made you, made Jeff feel as though he wasn’t good enough for you. Jeff would look at you two, wishing that he made you as happy as Zach did. What Jeff didn’t know was that he made you feel so much more than Zach ever could. 

“Y/N! Over here!” Zach had spotted you in a crowd of people. You and Jeff had both been invited to Jessica’s party but Jeff had run errands before the party. The two of you had agreed for Jeff to meet you at the party. 

The sweaty, dancing bodies surrounding you made it hard for you to move towards Zach and his friends - who weren’t exactly your friends but they were aways nice to you - until his hand reached out for you. You gladly took it and began to maneuver through the crowd. Once you had reached Zach, his hand retreated from your own and settled around your waist. Of course, you just passed it off as a protective gesture and thought nothing of it. After greeting them, you, Zach, Justin, Jessica and Montgomery then moved over to Jessica’s couch. 

Justin then yelled your name over the music to get your attention to get your attention, “You want a drink?”

“Sure but I don’t want to get too drunk before Jeff gets here.”

“Yeah, ok.” Justin nodded before leaving with Montgomery to get drinks. They came back moments later and Monty handed you a red solo cup.  Truth be told you weren’t the biggest party animal there was but you definitely knew how to have a good time.

It didn’t take long for you to get tipsy. In fact, maybe you were a little more than tipsy - so much so, you didn’t notice that Jeff had arrived until he was standing right in front of you and Zach.

“Hey ba- whoa,” Jeff didn’t let you finish. Instead, he had grabbed your arm and pulled you up out of your seat on the couch.

“We’re leaving.” He clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. You could tell he was angry - everyone within a mile of him could - but you didn’t want to cause a scene. Honestly, you didn’t want to leave. Tonight was one of the first nights you had where you actually enjoyed the company of Zach’s friends.

“You literally just arrived.” you said softly, trying to get him calm down a little.

“Huh, didn’t think you noticed. You looked a little busy all cosied up with Zach.“

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Zach rose from his position on the couch.

Jeff no longer faced you and he had taken a step towards Zach, “You’re my problem.”

Maybe a fight would have ensued if Justin hadn’t intervened, “Guys, seriously knock it off, it’s a party. You wanna fight? Outside. Not here.”

“Forget it, let’s just go.” You did not want your best friend and boyfriend to fight. Leaving was the best decision for now.


The car journey to Jeff’s place was completely silent. Both of you were radiating anger and any words said would just fuel the feeling.

Jeff’s parents had left for a weekend business trip, which had allowed you to stay the night. Your parents had no idea and believed you were staying at Jessica’s house.

As soon as Jeff pulled up outside of his house, you left the car as quick as you could and opened the door with the spare key that you knew they kept behind one of the rocks. You fled to one of their bathrooms and locked yourself in. You definitely didn’t want to confront Jeff about what happened but you knew you had to. As you washed your face, you heard a knock on the door.

“Y/N, baby. Listen, I love you. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or made you feel bad or anything. I guess I’m just jealous.” you sighed before opening the door.

“But why? Why would you be jealous?” You walked closer to Jeff and held his face in your hands.

“I don’t know. I see how happy you are with him and it makes me upset.” Looking down, Jeff started to scratch the back of his neck.

“Don’t you understand that you make me happy too? I know we’ve been friends for so long but you make me happier than Zach ever could.”

Jeff looked up at this and you started to lean in. The two of you shared a kiss that held more meaning and more passion than any other kiss you’ve shared before. The two of you broke away from each other to catch your breath and leaned your foreheads against each other.

“Listen, babe. You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m yours and only yours.”

“I love you so much, Y/N Y/LN.”

“And I love you, Jeffrey Atkins.”

Churchill Was Brilliant And Brave, But Hardly Handsome

In 1899 Winston Churchill was covering the Boer War as a correspondent when he was captured and put in a Pretoria prison. He climbed a wall and set out to flee 300 miles to neutral Portuguese East Africa while the Afrikaners raised the alarm and circulated a rather unflattering description:

Escaped prisoner-of-war Winston Spencer Churchill Englishman 25 years old about 5 foot 8 inches tall medium build walks with a slight stoop. Pale features. Reddish-brown hair almost invisible small moustache. Speaks through his nose and cannot pronounce the letter S. Had last a brown suit on and cannot speak one word of Dutch.

Churchill fled on foot for two days, hid in a coal mine for three, and finally boarded a freight train, where he hid under bales of wool to evade a Boer search party. When he reached safety, publicity of his adventure set him on the path toward a career in government. And during his time as a minister, Churchill fought for prisoner’s rights – including the right to attempt escape.

Oh How Funny.

Pairing: Tony x Reader

Prompt: You and Tony are together and the team makes fun of the age gap between the two of you. You both take the jokes and begin to fire back at them.

Warnings: None! (Well, I mean talk of age in a relationship, language I think, slight insinuations of sex??)

Word Count:1,033

Song: Stay The Night by Green day

I really do not know if this one is any good, it is shorter, I know.

Originally posted by thepunisher

You had thrown one last jab at Steves ribs and he fell flat to his back. You were definitely not as strong as he was, but you sure as hell weren’t weak and you were much faster than him. As Steve lays on the ring floor and unwraps the tape from his hands you begin to unwrap the tape on yours. 

“Better watch this one Stark. I don’t know if an old man like you will be able to keep up with a firecracker like Y/N.” He says rising from the floor, Tony squints his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Rogers, why don’t we reconsider that statement and take a look at how many DECADES you missed being a capsicle.” He snaps. You can’t help but laugh and Tony smiles at you winking. “See, women love humor, old man.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and takes the water from Tony as he walks into the ring with two bottles. Tony hands you the second and leans against the ropes next to you. 

“You look really hot by the way.” He says.

“Well, lets see, that could be because I just fought a man twice my size. What clued you in huh? Couldn’t be the gallons of sweat on me.” You say looking up at him with a side glance. His smile grows and he shakes his head.

“Your sarcasm makes my days bright.” He says putting his arm around your shoulders. You smile and lay your head on his arm.

You and Tony had been together for about three months and you had been training with the team since two weeks after you met Tony. Like all things Stark, you met him in a very unconventional way. You were walking home from a party one night when about four large men began to follow you. They got closer and closer without your knowing and eventually began to attempt to attack you. Your fighting skills proved effective, because by the time Tony reached you in his suit and all, you had two of the men slumped against the dumpster, one with a broken nose and a couple cracked ribs and the other with his head split open and leg bent in a very odd way. One of the men fled the scene as soon as you started whooping ass and the other one was laying face down on the pavement of the ally. You had turned to continue your walk home but you were greeted with a maskless iron man, and a jaw-dropped Tony Stark. The rest was history. 

“I should probably get changed and get these clothes to the wash. I smell like absolute shit.” You say handing Tony the empty bottle. He takes it and kisses your cheek lightly. You smile and begin to walk away before you feel a light slap on your rear end. Whipping around you see him quickly running to the elevator to escape your wrath. Smiling still, you make your way to the showers to change. 

_______


Exiting the elevator after you’ve showered, you see the team all gathered in the lounge. You walk to the couch and take a seat next to Tony. Natasha looks up to you and smiles.

“Hey Y/N! I heard you kicked Steves ass today!” She says smirking. Thor smiles triumphantly and Clint looks to Steve. 

“Anyone can kick Steves ass. Trust me I would know.” Bucky says from the seat next to you. “Welcome to the steves a weakling club!” 

You smile and hi-5 him back and Steve throws a pillow at you from across the room. Laughing you use the pillow you cushion your head against Tonys shoulder. 

“Yeah, I mean she has to be impressive! She took down four dudes on her own!” Tony says. You roll your eyes. 

“Well one of you has to be limber in the relationship, you gotta be getting those achy joints huh Tony?” Clint asks. “She still has many years of being fit.” 

You take the pillow and throw it at him, hitting him directly in the face. Laughter erupts.

“In all realness Stark, dating such a younger woman must be nice for you! When you want to go to Casinos and things, you just look like you’re a nice dad taking his Daughter out.” Bucky says. More laughter erupts from the team and Tonys glaring eyes begin to tell you he has had enough tonight. 

“Don’t worry Stark, if we go on missions we will make sure we get to the fight the same time she does, not after shes taken all the guys down.” Natasha says. 

“Hey guys, lets just notice one thing here…” you start. The team stares at you. “Which one of you actually has a girlfriend?” 

“HA! Suckers.” Tony says taking your hand and dragging you back to your shared room. He shuts the door and you walk over to the closet almost completely forgetting of the events that just took place in the lounge. You pull one of Tony’s t-shirts off the hangar and lay in on the dresser. You take off your top and bra and slide his shirt down over your torso. 

“As much as I love seeing you in my shirts, I liked you without a shirt better.” Tony says from the bed. You turn around and glare at him. He laughs and you slip out of your jeans and into a pair of shorts. Tying your hair into a braid you make your way to the bed and lay down next you Tony. He reaches over and shuts off the lamp causing the room to go dark, with the exception of the moonlight through the blinds. 

“You know I love you right? I have absolutely no issue with our ages.” You say laying your head on his chest. You feel his chest vibrate with his small chuckle and he brings one arm around you pulling you closer into him. 

“I love you too Y/N, and they can make jokes all they want. It doesn’t bother me at all. Like you said, who has a girlfriend? And a sexy one at that?” He adds. You laugh and snuggle closer to him, letting sleep overcome you. 

tygermama  asked:

Are there any fic out there where Baze Malbus is basically the Wolverine of the Star Wars universe and everywhere he goes, he ends up with a new young lady to teach the art of being grumpy and kicking ass too? Cause I think there should be

Oh god so I may… have started writing a thing?


Baze wakes up, which is the first surprise. The second comes at the feel of desert under him, similar but wholly different to the sands of Scarif. For an overwhelming second he thinks he’s back on Jedha, but he knows Jedha’s land in the very core of him, and this isn’t it. This is something very different.

It takes him the whole of the suns trek across the sky to learn just how much.

Niima Outpost is small, ragged, and untrusting. But it does have water. Foul, sour water, but water nonetheless. Baze has had worse. It also has information, which Base finds infinitely harder to stomach.

It takes him a while to understand what the wrinkled stall-holder is telling him—he’s somehow skipped not only years but an epoch—but in the end it’s clear. Or as clear as it can be. Because while almost three decades seem to have passed, they’ve also passed him by. The face looking back from the burnished metal plate behind the stall-holder is no older than the one that fled Jedha’s destruction. His knees certainly don’t feel the weight of his lost time.

That first night is spent mostly sleepless, his back to a wall and head spinning with his circumstance. His hands feel too empty in his lap, missing the reassuring weight of his repeater canon like a lost limb. He can’t help but curse whatever power—the Force, his head whispers traitorously even as he growls it into silence—transported him here for not bringing his firepower with him. It would have made earning passage off Jakku easier.

Which is what he must do. Because if he’s here, the burning sands of Scarif already fading into memory, he must believe that somewhere out in this future galaxy, Chirrut is as well. And if nothing else in this new time is familiar, the need to find his way back to his husband very much is.

- - -

He wakes to find a dusty, waif of a girl trying to pick his pockets. This goes about as well as expected. Even as he grabs her Baze feels a sharp pang of nostalgia for the streets of Jedha where the urchins knew well enough to avoid him, even if the worst they ever faced was a hot meal and Chirrut’s calm education on the difference between assassins and tourists. Not that he is much of either right now, out of time as he is.

The girl twists and hisses in his grip like a feral tooka and Baze has to work at making sure he doesn’t accidentally snap her toothpick of a wrist as he rises to his feet.

“Stop that,” he says mildly, not very surprised when that just gets him a feral growl and renewed thrashing. Baze rolls his eyes and lifts the girl into the air until she tires herself out. It doesn’t take long. The rags she’s wearing do nothing to hide the lack of meat on her bones.

“Are you finished?” he says after she goes limp, hanging like a particularly angular vine in his grip.

A second, and then finally a nod.

Baze lowers the creature to the ground and is unsurprised when she takes the opportunity to scarper. The kick to the groin however…

Baze groans as he slowly unfolds himself. The girl has disappeared into the growing rush of the early-morning market. Baze would curse her if he weren’t so very mildly impressed.

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AAaaand the third promptfill for @emsiecat(seconded by @ahiddenkitty):

FLIRTY SPARRING ✧・゚:*✧・゚:* \(◕ω◕✿)/ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

(or rather the end of it. Dwalin is so done.)

Today is Yom Hashoah.

Today is Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day.
We remember the six million Jews and ¼-½ million Roma that died in the Holocaust.
We remember the five million lgbtq people, disabled, and others that died in the Holocaust.
Today is also Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day. Don’t exclude them. Genocide is genocide.
Don’t forget that while many groups were targeted in the Holocaust, Jews and Rroma were their focus, the primary ones they sought to wipe from the face of the earth. The Holocaust left deep scars in our cultural memory. You can’t understand that kind of abiding collective anguish unless you are one of us.
To put the numbers in perspective: The Jewish global population pre-Holocaust was 17 million at its peak in 1939. The Jewish population of Europe was 9 million. The Rroma population of Europe was just under 1 million.
6 million Jews was OVER ONE THIRD of the number of Jews IN THE ENTIRE WORLD, and TWO THIRDS OF ALL EUROPEAN JEWS.
220,000-500,000 Romani was ONE QUARTER TO ONE HALF of the Rroma in Europe.
The Jewish population STILL has not recovered to prewar levels. We’re at 13-14 million today. Again, that is the GLOBAL POPULATION. That’s less than the population of New York state (20 million).
There are Holocaust survivors STILL LIVING. This isn’t distant memory.
I live in the US (like many Ashkenazi Jews) because some of my family fled. The ones who stayed didn’t survive.
Do not let this happen again.
Nazis are rising again, and they’re finding their way into the top echelons of our government. Not theoretically, LITERALLY. Hate crimes are skyrocketing, and we are becoming habituated to fear.
Fight back against those that would bring the horror back again. Keep protesting, keep fighting, keep standing up for minorities, for the persecuted and marginalized.
We remember.
Never again.

זכר קדוש לברכה
May the memory of the holy be a blessing.

an absolute idiot || george weasley

request: I really enjoy your writing! :) Could you do a George Weasley X Reader where he’s comforting a female reader in the hospital wing after she’s broken her foot? -anon

a/n: so mid writing i was like “aw crap” because i remembered in CoS when lockhart messed up that spell on harry and he had to go to the hospital wing and madam pomfrey was like “fixing bones i can do in a blink of an eye, but growing them” and i was like “I CANT CHANGE THE REQUEST” so just deal with my story k? k. ALSO IM REALLY SORRY IF YOU WANTED THEM TO CONFESS THEIR LOVE IN THIS

warnings: none yo

  Ever have that feeling that a week has gone too well? Yeah, that’s the week you were having. You got high marks on a potions essay, got a compliment on your painted nails, etc. Maybe you were just paranoid.

    It was a Friday (thank god), and it was all average as can be. You walked into the Gryffindor common room to find everyone doing the usual. You spotted Neville at a table, looking very concentrated on his wand. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was muttering the same thing over and over, expecting a spell to happen.

    “Hey Neville,” you said, pulling out a chair next to him to sit in. “Oh, hi Y/N,” he responded, still focused on his wand. You looked over at his paper. He was attempting an anti-jinx spell. “And what will you be needing that spell for?” you asked curiously. “Malfoy and his buddies are always jinxing me all the time, and I was thinking of trying to learn a spell that’ll take the jinx, whatever it might be, off,” he explained. You nodded your head, showing you understood. 

    He practiced a few times, and finally, something happened, but not what was supposed to happen. The wand started to glow, and Neville got out of his chair and pointed it at himself, as to test it. But instead of the spell shooting out of the front end, it shot at the back, right at your foot.

    There was a crack made from your foot and you were in agonizing pain. “Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Neville apologized. “No, no, it’s all good. I’ll head to the hospital wing, no worries,” you said, looking as if you might faint. Your friends ran over immediately to help you to Madam Pomfrey.

    You arrived at the hospital wing and immediately was put in bed. You explained to Madam Pomfrey what happened, and she only clicked her tongue and handed you a little cup with medicine in it. The liquid looked black and smelled horrid, but you knew you had to drink it. You chugged it down and almost threw up. 

    “Now, now, don’t throw up, or you’ll just have to take it again. It’ll take about two hours to work, so take a nap if you will,” she explained and left you alone.

    You were almost asleep when you heard the door creak open, and, thinking it was Madam Pomfrey, tried to fall asleep again, until you heard a “Psst”. You opened your eyes to find a tall, ginger boy looking down at you. “Hi George,” you said faintly, rolling your eyes.

    “How are you doing?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Fine. You know, I would’ve been back in like, an hour from now, you didn’t have to come see me right away,” you laughed. “I know, but I have this problem: I just can’t be away from you for more than an hour,” he told you. “You’re an idiot,” you told him, starting to sit up. “And you’re absolutely stunning,” he grinned and winked. 

    He kissed your forehead and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. 

    “George, you’re going to get caught in here,” you said. “But I have an excuse! ‘Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I absolutely had to check up on my girlfriend because I am an amazing boyfriend,’” he said. You laughed.

    Right then, the door started to creak open. George winked one last time and fled. An absolute idiot, you thought.

I want to add another thing to this whole mess and I want to do it separate because this is something just happens way too fucking much.

goyim see name of European a country and go that means the jew is European and not from a Jewish community that existed in said European country.

Like if a Jew tells another Jew my family is from Poland or my family is from Germany it lets you know what their minhagim will be.

Same thing if some goes my family is from Spain, Yemen, Turkey, Ethiopia, India, or Syria.

It literally just tells you about their minhagim, history, how they make their chulent and charoset.

Like my mom her family had been living in Poland for like super long and until the Holocaust where the only ones that are still alive are the ones that fled shortly before the Holocaust, the rest of the family was murdered in the Holocaust.

My mom who comes from Polish Jews going way back did genetic testing and it 100% Ashkenazi Jewish.

So that is 100% Jewish. Doesn’t matter that her family was living in Poland for a super long time cause there is no Polish in her.

There is a reason we Jews say that Blank Country is where we lived and not we are Blank.

I come from Polish and Russian Jews, but I’m not Polish or Russian.

But goyim they don’t care they just hear European Country and that is all that matters to them.

Also I love how the rule of thumb of people not from an ethnic or racial minority don’t get to determine what they call themselves or identify as is totally ignored when it comes to Jewish people.

I also gotta love how her being Israeli some how negates it all because seriously where do goyim think Jews even came from?

Do they think we grew in cabbage patch or maybe a stork just dropped us down and that is how Jews come about.

According to them Jews just sprang up out of nowhere and one there was just a bunch of Jews in Europe and a couple other places.

Rather then several times the Jewish people were taken in chains out of their homeland sold into slavery and denied the ability to return home under threat of death and every time the Jewish people returned home.

Like do people just not understand that we are a multi Diasporic people.

The roman Diaspora, the current one we are in, is actually the 4th and longest Diaspora in our history.

I suppose that acknowledging that would makes things very inconvenient from goyim.

Cause that just goes to show that each time we struggled and finally returned home and each time again they came and took us out and refused to let us go home.

We are now doing this again for what feels like the millionth time in our history.

For all the people talk about history repeats itself for Jews history is on constant loop and we like to get off the carousal already cause we been on it for way too fucking long.

Early Morning - John Shelby

Could you do a imagine where John finds the reader walking on the side of the road in the rain after they have had a fight (she wants another baby but he doesn’t) so he trys to make up for it? Thanks

Hi, could you do a imagine with John trying to convince you to have a baby. Your not sure if it’s the right time but his kids are growing up and he wants to have one last baby.

Early Morning - John Shelby

Your mother had always said that communication was the key to any healthy relationship. Be it friends, lovers or just family, if you didn’t communicate there was no way the relationship could flourish and be successful. And you thought, surely, after 14 years together you and John should have been experts at communicating. But you had let that nagging doubtful voice in the back of your head win out over the reasonable one that told you to talk to John.  

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anonymous asked:

Headcanons where the reader is working at the kissing booth, and Bill/Pennyboi tries to scare everyone away but it's really hard for him to do so openly because the reader specifically told him not to cause any trouble for her. In the end, she agrees that he could scare Bowers & Co away because they were being jerks.

OKAY SO- I don’t normally do this- loved this idea so much that I wrote a Oneshot! Anyway, here yah go! 

—————

The date was July 4th, the sun hung high in the summer sky and you found yourself seated behind a cherry red painted carnival booth. Around you, the pastel festivities of Derry’s 4th of July festival rained down in a shower of confetti and streamers, outlined by a ferris wheel and a large merry-go-round. Children and adults alike ran circles around the carnival stands, partaking in the games and stuffing their faces with sugary foods. On any normal day, you would be among them, laughing and smiling as you played in the summer sun. But fate had other plans for you, a fact that you begrudgingly discovered as you were placed behind this booth.

A kissing booth.

The red paint of the wooden booth came off under your nails as you angrily scratched at the table beneath your hands, the little bar stool you were sitting on squeaking under your weight. Sure you had volunteered, and yes you had agreed to help with the carnival, but you did not sign up for this. And yet, you grit your teeth and bared it, this was for your school and the fundraisers for the classes that put you here. As much as you hated being here, you loved your school. The booth was small, only built for one unlucky kisser, with a set of little scarlet curtains that could be drawn closed when the booth wasn’t being used. Right now, you wished you could pull them over your head and hide.

Strangely enough though, you hadn’t had any customers since this morning. A few people passed, took a look at you and quickly left with only a few laughs in your direction. You glanced over to the glass jar on your left where a few dollar bills rested inside and sighed, feeling a little confused over why no one was taking up the offer that hung over your head. You leaned over the wooden counter, brushing aside the velvet curtains to re-read the sign that loomed over you

“Killing booth- $5”

Yeah, just how you had left it, killing- WAIT.

You panicked a little and ran out from behind the booth, looking up to realize that instead of the word “Kissing” that had been there this morning, two large, blood red letter “L”s had been painted crudely over the s’s to form the work “KiLLing”. You were appalled, your fingers curling and tugging into your hair in confusion, When did this happen!?

“Yah like it? Seems to be working!”

A quirky and high-pitched voice giggled from behind you, making you spin around, and then you saw it. The undoubtable cause of this, Pennywise the dancing clown. Well- more like Pennywise the “currently hiding in a grouping of hedges” clown. All you could see was the top of his head and the shine of his bright blue eyes, but there he was. You gently placed your index finger and thumb against your forehead and sighed, of course this was his doing.

“Penny!? What are you doing here, why did you paint over my sign?”

You asked, a deep and exasperated sigh following your sentence. The clown smiled and placed his two pointer fingers together.

“I know you told me not to come, but I can’t just stand around while dirty, nasty, humans put their filthy mouths on what’s mine”

The clown used a particularly harsh voice to describe your past customers, no doubt he had seen for himself what exactly a kissing booth was, and he clearly did not approve. You felt a little rose of flattery bloom in your chest at the thought of Penny wanting to keep you to himself. But you quickly shook it away as you pointed your hands at him

“Pen, I appreciate your protection, but I have to do this”

You said. The clown frowned, crossing his arms as his eyebrows knitted together. You smiled a little how at cute the monster was when he pouted, but walked over to the bush and kneeled down towards him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, it’s only a one day gig! I’m still yours, these little kisses mean nothing!”

You tried to explain. Pennywise looked at you with his bottom lip puffed out, his eyes looking you up and down before he finally uncrossed his arms.

“Fine”

Penny said and snapped his fingers, the large L’s disappearing from the sign. You smiled and sighed before turning back to him. You were about to speak but a gloved finger is pushed against your lips before you can get a word out

“But i’m staying close. If any of these horrible little humans hurt you, or try to get away with more than they should, I’m going to grab dinner early”

Pennywise snickered, his eyes flashing yellow for a second before he disappeared back in the hedges, mysteriously melting into the emerald green leaves. You sighed, getting used to it, and stood back up to face your booth. Hopefully, the day’s patrons would take the quick peck to the cheek and leave, for their sakes.

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

A few hours later and the majority of the younger crowd was clearing out, nothing but adults and teenagers remaining on the carnival grounds as the sun began to set. You still sat behind your booth, now pretty pleased with the amount of money sitting happily in your jar. You sure hoped you got to keep some of it for how many strangers you’ve had to kiss today. A few strands of fairy lights no glittered along the edges of your booth, glowing brightly alongside the millions of others that filled the fair. It was a beautiful night, one that was dragging on and making you hope for rain. The idea of your nice warm bed and a cup of tea waiting for you at home made your feet ake, you wanted desperately to leave and go home.

Just as you thought that you’d be able to get away without any more trouble for the night, a familiar dirty blonde mullet came into view. Henry Bowers and his band of idiots came parading around the corner, your hair instantly stood on end as you prayed to any god worth praying to that they wouldn’t see you. Unfortunately, the punk spotted you just as he was about to disappear behind the trees and almost instantly you wished that you hadn’t agreed to this job.

“Hey boys! Get a load ah this!”

You heard Henry shout, all of the other boys turning to face you, their smug faces turning up with wide grins. Your eyes rolled, looking the other way as they waltzed up to you.

“Get lost Bower”

You said. The kid, obviously, didn’t listen and marched right up until he had his whole weight leaning onto the wooden counter of your booth, his arms crossed as he leaned in close.

“How bout yah give me a kiss instead sweetheart~?”

Henry sneered, his eyes half lidded as he grinned his regular shit-eating grin. Two of his boys closed in beside him, blocking your view of the carnival and making you painfully aware of how much the lot of them smelled of beer and sweat. You backed away and waved your hand towards him

“You wish. Go away, you guys reak”

You said, holding your nose and snickering right back at them. Henry’s jaw clenched and he shifted his weight to one arm, using the other to run a hand through his hair.

“That ain’t nice doll, denying a paying customer”

As Henry turned to look behind him, the two boys on either side of him reached forward, grabbing onto you and holding you in front of him. He turned back with a smile, no doubt he had checked to see if the coast was clear.

“I think I deserve one on the house!”

He chuckled, his own arms reached down to hold your waist as his boys pulled you closer.

“Fuck off!”

You struggled, pretty sure that you could beat his ass if you could get free of his goons. Bower cheesily pressed his lips into a kissy face before licing them and laughing as you got closer and closer, one of the boys grabbing hold of your chin to keep you still.

Suddenly, a sharp and shrill scream rang out behind the group of boys. One of them on your right turned to see what had happened and as he did he released you, His hands flailing as something reached down from the tree above you and pulled him up into the leaves. Henry flinched, looking up into the tree, his hands loosening to give you just enough leeway to break free.

You managed to back up in time as a long and boney arm reached down above Henry, a set of clawed fingers gripping around his skull and lifting him into the air. The goon on your left screamed, freaking out as Bower was lifted, his hands struggling and grasping on the arm that held him. Henry was jerked up out of your view as the other one quickly fled the seen, scrambling around the roots of trees. You immediately knew what was happening, and although you’d love for the punk to get what was coming to him, you knew better than to stir up more trouble.

“Pennywise! Do not kill him!”

You shouted up into the sky, the gargled screams of Henry becoming louder as you imagine Pennywise unhappily letting him go. The leaves and branches above your head shook a little, and soon a very scared looking Henry Bower came tumbling from the sky in a mess of limbs as he scrambled to stand.

“FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

He sobbed, looking at you in bewilderment before he fled off into the night. You couldn’t hold back a laugh as the bully tripped over himself in an effort to get away, thankfully without any bad wounds or broken bones. As soon as he was gone you sighed, catching your breath and letting out a long laugh as you leaned back in your stool.

“Penny, they’re gone now!”

You called, suddenly feeling a body behind you as you leaned back, soft pom-poms brushing up against your neck. A familiarly long arm reached in front of you, pulling the drawstring to the set of curtains and coming to rest on your shoulder as they flapped closed with a soft hush. Penny turned you around in your stool and looked at you, his eyes boring into your own in the dim light. You smiled shyly, nervous as to whether he’d be mad or not.

“Did they hurt you?”

He asked in a deep voice. You smiled, shaking your head.

“Nope. I’m fine Penny, you saved me”

The clown seemed to like the sound of that and me smiled, pulling you into his chest and growling protectively as you held him back.

“Little monsters, thinking that they can touch you”

Pennywise grumbled under his breath. You pulled back and looked up at him, placing a hand on his cheek.

“They won’t ever be trying again though, and I think that, deserves a kiss~”

You said sweetly, leaning in and placing an honest, soft kiss into your Clown’s left dimple.

———

Thank you so much for requesting this! It was such a fun one to play around with! I hoped you liked it too, and thanks once again for asking! 

anonymous asked:

if u don't wanna risk getting into drama dw abt posting this but @ tht anon, another big big big issue w hamilton is that it's racist as h*ck, i'm sure a quick google can explain why better than i can in one ask

u mean how they called for “non- white” actors or am i missing smth else 

Chips or Chocolate?

Vernon x Reader

702 words

Anonymous asked: hullo >u< i know you’re on hiatus but may i request a scenario where hansol is your boyfriend and one time while you two were hanging out at his place you were unaware that you got your period but he sees and tells you and then you get embarrassed and lock yourself in his bathroom but like he’s all cute abt it and stuff !! you can add things in and decide how it ends hehe c’:

Sunday morning. Sun was shining through the  window of Hansol’s bedroom, bathing both you and him in a warm light.

This sunshine was the reason you woke up, and you had to say, it couldn’t get much better than this. Waking up late with your boyfriend sleeping next to you, on a day where you could both relax.

Hansol stirred next to you, pulling you closer in his sleep. You turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. His eyes cracked open, and he smiled at you, still very much asleep.

“Morning, Y/N,” he whispered.

“Morning, Hansol,” you smiled.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, kissing you on the cheek.

You nodded. “I’ll go make breakfast. Are pancakes okay?”

“Pancakes are perfect.”

You turned out of bed and headed to the door. As Hansol watched you leave, he noticed a rusty red strain on the back of you white and purple shorts you wore to bed. He frowned.

“Y/N? I think you’ve got something on the back of your shorts…”

You turned to ask him what he meant, and as you did, you noticed a red stain on Vernon’s sheets. Oh no.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, covering your face with your hands. “I’ll be right back, one second.”

You fled as quickly as you could to the bathroom and locked the door. Quickly you checked and confirmed that yes, your period had started. How could it have slipped your mind? You had completely forgotten to keep track of your cycle, and now it had caused you loads of embarrassment. You didn’t have anything with you other than the clothes you had brought to sleep over at Hansol’s.

You heard a knock at the door. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay… it’s just my time of the month.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Hansol chuckled. When you didn’t respond, he asked, “Do you need anything? Did you bring anything with you to help?”

“No,” you sighed. You had no idea what to do. Hansol was a guy. There was no way he’d have a tampon or pad for you.

Almost as if he heard you think this, Hansol said, “I can ask my mom for you, if you want. Actually, I don’t think I need to ask, I know where they are. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

Before you could protest, you heard Hansol walk away. You didn’t know what to think. You hadn’t thought Hansol would offer to help you with anything, but it was sweet that he did.

You heard Hansol’s footsteps return a few moments later. He knocked again before said, “Babe, can you open the door? I’ve got something for you.”

You opened the door, expecting him to just hand you a tampon. You did not expect him to hand you an armload of his clothes.

“The tampon’s here,” Hansol said, handing you the item separately. “And I got you a pair of my sweatpants and boxers, since I don’t know if you have anything to wear.”

You were touched. “Hansol, thank you. So much.”

Hansol flashed you a grin. “Don’t mention it.” He headed down the hallway to his room to get dressed, leaving you with the mini care package.

You quickly got dressed and soaked your clothes in cold water, drying them after. You found a plastic bag that you suspected Hansol had placed on top of you overnight bag and put your soil clothes away. Finally you headed out to the kitchen, where to your surprise, Hansol had quickly cooked some breakfast.

“Here you go,” he said nonchalantly, sliding the plate in front of you.

You stared at him. “Hansol, thank you so much.”

“No worries,” Hansol said. “Literally almost everyone who’s a girl gets her period. If I’m going to date girls, I might as well be prepared.”

You smiled and ate your breakfast. As you finished, Hansol asked, “Chips or chocolate?”

“Why?” You stared at him.

“If you want to eat junk food, I am more than willing to do that,” Hansol said. “But I can’t remember if you like chips or chocolate better.”

You smiled and gave him a kiss. “Both.”

Fic: Little talks late at night

A little 2x08 reaction fic. Because Alec and Magnus need to talk about what happened on that rooftop. (Word count: 2,351)

Read it on the AO3

Magnus kept it together as long as they were busy dealing with the aftermath of Magnus’s fight with Iris. Once he had closed the door behind Jace, Clary, Izzy and Simon, he leaned his head against the wood for a second and took a deep breath. Him and Alec needed to talk.

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2

The girl who lost things | A RebelCaptain modern!AU

There was once a girl with her head full of dreams
she wondered around, in her yellow machine.
The world was her home because hers was lost,
until one day a Captain her road crossed.
He was a cynic and and his dream were gone cold,
her heart full of hope turned his back into gold.
But she was the girl who kept losing things,
afraid of his love, she fled one day of spring.
He never gave up and the whole world he roamed,
until he finally found her and gave her a home.

Waking Days Ch. 2 - Rift

A/N: Finally, after a two month hiatus! To be honest, this chapter was a lot more difficult to write, mostly because there’s been, ahem, other fandoms that’ve grabbed my attention as of late. Also the content. As you may have noticed, I’m a lot more into character interaction than any real plot. Plot just helps give more character interaction, in my opinion, so writing a chapter that’s mostly plot and little character development is hard. That’s it. That’s my excuse. 

hopefully though, this chapter would be worth the wait. As usual, I take any questions you guys wanna ask about the state of the fic, if anybody’s worried or confused or just wants to gush with me about fandom. 

AU by my pal @doodledrawsthings. Based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan.


Thirty years took a great toll on his memories, but Ford still remembered this place. Dimension 52 rested in the back of his mind, even as he fled from one universe to another, meeting hundreds of people, places, and searching frantically for a concrete way of stopping Bill. It was one of the few worlds he knew that truly meant him no harm, where his stay wasn’t stained with loss and terror and Bill’s chaos. Years of voyaging had left his memory of this place faded and washed out like a watercolor painting, and remembering little details grew harder and harder, but as Stanford set foot into the temple, it was like he hadn’t even left.

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Healer

The whole mission had been doomed from the very beginning. Anakin had experienced a bad feeling as soon as he and his Master had entered their transportation craft. Despite Qui-Gon’s assurance that it would be a quick and easy mission – it was their first mission after a time-out at the temple – everything had gone right to hell. Not only had the negotiation mission been a ruse, specially crafted for Qui-Gon and Anakin, but the two Jedi had walked right into the trap of an old enemy. Xanatos Du'Crion former second Padawan of Qui-Gon, had actually managed to capture his old Master and his successor and it hadn’t been pleasant. Anakin had been forced to work in an underground mine, it had been hard and tiring work and if you could not live up to a certain standard, you were either beaten into a bloody pulp or killed the very instant. The former was more often the case, because this way the guards could have their fun, not only with delivering the beating, but during watching the workers struggle with their work afterwards. Anakin hated them. But not enough to enter a dark path. Besides, Xanatos would have been a fate much worse.
The raven haired man had separated the Jedi team as soon as possible. The two Jedi had shared the same cell, but while Anakin had done hard labor, Qui-Gon had been tortured by the fallen Jedi personally. Usually the Master had been fetched before sunrise and only brought back deep in the night, usually bleeding, limping or even unconscious. The days were hard on the long haired Jedi, who got weaker and weaker with every session. The blonde Padawan had known that his Master would not survive much longer and he had known that they had to escape soon. Which is why he had taken the opportunity – even though it had been a very small and very risky one – and fled with the brown haired man. The blonde had silently thanked the Force that he had been build so tall and strongly, it had made the task of carrying his Master a little easier. Not by much though, for guards were everywhere once the alarm had rung and the terrain was tricky. That and his days in prison and doing hard work without much nutritious food, had weakened Anakin as well.

A pained groan escaped the unconscious Jedi Master when Anakin accidentally stumbled. He thankfully did not lose his grip on the man that was draped over his back. Only Qui-Gon’s head had moved a little, causing some of his brown strands to fall into Anakin’s peripheral line of vision.
“Sorry Master,” mumbled the slightly smaller Jedi, while continuing onwards. He had escaped the cursed facility a long time ago and was now running in relatively save terrain.
It looked like a forest of some sorts, but what bothered the Jedi, was that there did not seem to be any animals. Or perhaps they were just too scared of them, even though that didn’t explain why he could not feel them. Then again, it could very well be a side effect of the Force suppressants he had been injected with. 

What seemed to the senior Padawan like an eternity, he finally had reached the end of the forest. Near the edge, Anakin had even heard a few birds rustling in the leaves. He had not been able to feel them though, so his guess seemed to be quite right.
With a lot of struggle, did he move forward, never letting his mind wander too much. The tall man he was carrying seemed to get heavier with every step he took. Anakin was panting and his heart was beating rapidly. He knew he would not get much farther. Had all been in vain?
The blonde had seen the tree’s root too late and he landed face first on the dusty ground. He was not the only one who let out a pained grunt. Qui-Gon was heavy on top of him and since he was unconscious, he could not even take some of his weight from Anakin’s frame.
The blonde struggled and muttered a few huttese curses, some of them would have earned him his Master’s disapproval and probably an extra round of sparring and meditation, but Anakin didn’t care right now. He just cared of the real danger that was lurking behind them and the body draped over his. 
A snapping sound caught the Padawan’s attention. He only felt a tiny flicker in the Force. But he knew that something or someone was in front of him. His eyes desperately searched his surroundings and they only stopped at a certain point, where they could make out a dark figure looming. 
“Help,” there was no bad intent coming from this person. Anakin wasn’t sure if it was because of his dulled senses, or because the person had no ill will, but he hoped it was the latter. “Over here!”
The person stopped and turned around, probably to face them, but he or she didn’t move further.
“Please,” begged the blonde, “We need help. My… father is injured and needs medical assistance.”
Whatever the reason, it caught the unknown person’s attention. Immediately the being came running over and before the Padawan realized it, the unknown figure was leaning over him and his Master.
He blinked. The stranger was obviously male and he looked relatively wealthy and well groomed. His short cooper hair was well taken care of and even his beard was neat. Blue-green eyes were scanning over the two men on the ground, before they settled on the taller Jedi’s frame.
“I am going to lift your… father,” there was doubt in the man’s accented voice, “off you. Will you be able to stand and walk on your own then?”
“I… I think so, yes.”
The stranger hummed in reply, while carefully lifting the long haired Jedi up. He struggled a bit, then Anakin felt the barest shifting in the Force and in the next moment, Qui-Gon was securely on the stranger’s shoulders.
Now it was Anakin’s turn, who felt as if a whole mountain had been lifted from his shoulders, quite literately.
“Quick now, you are still being followed,” said the stranger and began walking in the direction from which he had come.
“Wait,” panted the senior Padawan, while limping to keep up with the older male, “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
Blue-green eyes sparkled with hidden mirth, “Neither have you.”
“I am Anakin… Jinn and this is my father, Qui-Gon Jinn.” 
There was something in the other’s eyes, when he replied, “I didn’t know Jedi were allowed to have children.” His whole posture and aura changed and this time Anakin was actually able to feel it. It sent shivers down his spine. “I do not appreciate being lied to. I can accept secrecy, but I will not tolerate dishonesty.”
Was it just the light or did the stranger’s eyes shimmer gold for the briefest of moments? Whatever it had been, Anakin decided to be more cautious. His instincts told him to grab Qui-Gon and to make a run for it, but his body protested at the mere thought alone and something that felt suspiciously like the Force, urged him to stay.
“My name is…” he took a deep breath and silently prayed that he would not regret this later, “Anakin Skywalker, I am a Jedi Padawan and this is indeed Qui-Gon Jinn, my Master.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” there was a small grin on his features. “My turn. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sith Healer, at your service.”
Anakin stopped dead in his tracks. “You are a Sith?”
“Guilty,” the copper haired man grinned. “But I am foremost a healer.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated sigh, “My duty to those who need medical attention, comes always first. My duty to the Sith comes second. I have sworn an oath as a healer and I will not break that oath… it is all I have. ”
It sounded too good to be true, but Anakin had no other option but to trust and believe in Kenobi’s words. He knew he would not be able to outrun a Sith, especially not in this condition and with Qui-Gon unconscious. It was simply not possible.
“Where are we going?” he asked instead.
“I have a medical facility right behind that hill. Your Master will be taken care of then… perhaps it will be better if I look after him personally,” he glanced briefly at the limping Padawan beside him, “You need to be looked at as well. That and a bath might do wonders.”
The blonde blinked. The Sith was actually bothered more by his appearance and smell than the fact that he was a Jedi at his mercy? This was indeed a strange world. Then again, from the man’s look, it was understandable. His black tunic and grey sash were clean and spotless. The cape that was red on the inside, was attached to the shoulder and chest armor that did not look as if it had seen any real battle. There was a lose leather belt around the man’s waist and strapped to it were countless pouches and even some devices Anakin could not identify. Partly hidden by the sash, was a holster that was strapped to the Sith’s right leg, it contained a silver-black cylinder like object, a lightsaber.
“Instead of focusing on me, you should turn your attention to yourself and the ground you are walking on.” It was the most polite way of saying ‘Stop staring’ that Anakin had ever heard. 
“Sorry,” he mumbled, more out of instinct than anything else. The Sith sent him a surprisingly warm look and in silence, they walked onward.

Anakin gaped openly at the building that stood proud in all his grayish-white glory, between the forest and a hilltop. Obi-Wan had patiently explained that a large city was hidden behind the mountains and that a save path winded its way between two cliffs. The citizens and villagers could travel safely to his medical facility. Anakin guessed that there was no other healers around, which is why the villagers came here in the first place.
“Home sweet home,” mumbled the Sith once he and his limping companion had stepped through the automatic bi-parting sliding doors made of transparent material. Anakin somehow doubted that it was glass, he expected something stronger.
“AI-72, prepare the treatment room two and make sure that patient’s room number 13 is ready,” commanded Kenobi. Immediately a droid that had lounged near the reception, sprung to life.

“Yes Sir,” the black spherical droid answered and hovered away, most likely to do as told.

Obi-Wan followed the droid, he was still carrying the tall Jedi Master on his back. He had to admit, that he was quite impressed with the young Jedi, who was obviously still a Padawan. He could feel that the young one’s grip on the Force was dimmed and weakened, yet he had still managed to carry his Master to safety. And they WERE save here, as he had said, he was a healer before everything else.

Anakin had to blink against the bright light in the treatment room. The whole room was unexpected bright, then again, so where the halls of healing in the temple.

He watched how the Sith gently lowered his cargo on one of the operation tables. As soon as he had done so, two droids joined his side, one carried various instruments and devices, the other looked more human and seemed to be able to do operations on its own.

“I want you to check him for any internal injuries… scratch that, check his WHOLE body for damage, both inside and outside.” He turned to Anakin, “You look mostly fine, a few scratches as far as I can tell and perhaps a strained ankle from your fall. Nothing too serious. What YOU need, is rest, food and a bath, perhaps not in this order.”

Anakin knew this tone all too well. The healer back in the temple always used that with his Master, when the man was hovering over him. 
“I am not going to leave him,” he protested.

The older male narrowed his eyes, “This was not a request.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and straightened himself to his full height. “I don’t care.”

For a moment the two males just stared at each other, challenging and waiting for the other one to look away first. It was Obi-Wan, who avoided his gaze first. He shrugged. “Very well then.”

Anakin was surprised that the healer had surrendered so easily. Too late did he realize that a third droid had entered the room without him noticing and before he could react, had it pushed a needle in his neck.

“Bastard,” gritted the Padawan out between clenched teeth.

Again the Sith only shrugged, “It was your choice.”

He was getting dizzy, Anakin’s whole world was spinning. Also, his vision was darkening around the edged. He stumbled forward, arm outstretched and desperately reaching for the healer, but to no avail. Kenobi simply took a step back, arms crossed over his chest and a bored and calculating expression on his bearded features. Then, the Padawan’s world seemed to tilt, but before he landed on the ground, the droid caught him.

“Procedure Alpha.2 should be enough,” said Kenobi in his accented voice, “When you are finished, bring him into room number 13, make sure he cannot escape or attack.”

The droid beeped in understanding and Anakin felt himself being lifted, wondering what was going to happen to him now, before his whole world went black.
—————-
When Anakin Skywalker finally came back to his senses, he was greeted by the worst headache he had ever suffered in his relatively short life. For a moment he was disoriented and he was left to wonder what had happened. Then, everything came back to him and in panic, he opened his eyes and tried to sit up, only to be stopped by chains that could obviously not be opened with the aid of the Force. Panic cursed through his system, but then an all too familiar voice caught his attention.

“It’s alright Padawan,” said Qui-Gon Jinn.

The blonde’s head wiped around and his eyes landed on his Master’s form. The taller and older male was smiling reassuringly at him and even though he was bandaged almost everywhere, he looked a lot better than before. Then Anakin’s eyes settled on the silent male, who was partly sitting on Qui-Gon’s bed and who held a bowl and a spoon in his hand.

“Master? You are alive?”

Qui-Gon chuckled, “It would seem so… and most likely only thanks to your quick thinking and to Obi-Wan’s healing abilities.“ The healer ducked his head.
Anakin blinked. Obi-Wan, his Master had not said ‘Kenobi’ or ‘the Sith’, he had said Obi-Wan’.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“About twenty-four hours, perhaps a bit longer” answered the Sith.

“Obi-Wan told me that you gave him quite some trouble,” said Qui-Gon, but there was humor in his voice. He truly was on the way of getting back to health.

Immediately the blonde’s cheeks colored, “Yes, I mean… well… He IS a Sith!”

“He is a healer and a damn good one,” it was rare of the Jedi Master to speak positively of a healer. He, just as his Padawan, usually had a great dislike of healers and of healing facilities. So what was different now?

A moment of silence passed between the three Force users. Then, “Why am I chained to the hospital bed?”

“No particular reason,” the Sith said sarcastically, “You only destroyed one of my best droids and attacked me…”

“Oh,” he coughed in embarrassment, “Sorry about that.”

“Anakin,” the long haired Master’s voice was exhausted and perhaps a little bit desperate.

“I said I am sorry…”

Qui-Gon turned towards the healer, “The temple will pay for all expenses.”

Obi-Wan sighed, but bowed to his fate. “I will release you, when I am finished here.”

Only now did Anakin realize what the ginger haired male was doing. He had been feeding the older Jedi, whose arms were bandaged and trembling.

Qui-Gon, who had followed his apprentice’s gaze, said, “Nothing to worry about. Simply a side effect of Xanatos’ torture. Obi-Wan says it will pass in a few days.”

“Xanatos?” Obi-Wan cut in, “You don’t mean Xanatos Du’Crion, do you?”

“You know him?” asked Anakin.

Obi-Wan nodded and brought another spoon full of mush to his patient’s lips, who obediently opened his mouth. He slid the spoon in further, turned it and took it out again, leaving its content behind. It was clear from just looking at him work, that he had done that a lot more than just one or two times. He then wiped a bit of the mush from his patient’s moustache afterwards.

“That boy is a fool. He sought me out one or two times, begging me to take him as my apprentice… that boy has as much talent for healing as a bantha for dancing.” He scoffed, “I couldn’t turn him down when he asked for medical attention however. And every time I think he is gone for good, he returns.” He shook his head and gave the Jedi Master something to drink from a small flask that had rested nearby.

Qui-Gon swallowed the cool water. “So he has bothered you in the past?”

“Yes,” another spoon, “though I wonder about the connection he has with you…” he trailed off, leaving the decision to speak to the two Jedi.

“He was… he was my Padawan once.”

Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. “My first apprentice died, stabbed himself with a poisonous blade,” he shook his head, but there was something sad in his eyes, “That was the day I decided to become a healer.”

“A noble decision.”

The Sith shrugged, “I like to think that this was the Force’s way of bringing me back on the right path, away from the darkness, back on a lighter path.”

Whatever Qui-Gon wanted to reply, had to wait, because as soon as he had opened his mouth, another spoon full of fruity – it was surprisingly tasty – mush, was shoved inside. He glared at his healer, who seemed completely unfazed by it.

“Lord Sanarus?” a metallic voice asked from the doorframe. Anakin recognized the droid as AI-72, the droid from the reception.

“Don’t call me that,” snapped the Sith healer, before he continued in a much calmer tone, “What is it?”

“You have a visitor, Sir. It is…” it didn’t come any further in its explanation, because in an instant, it was pushed aside by the Force.

The two Jedi knew exactly to whom the approaching Force presence belonged and Obi-Wan knew as well. He calmly put away the bowl and stood up, brushing imaginary dust off of his clothes, before stepping towards Anakin’s bed. There he opened the locks on the chains, freeing the Jedi. When he straightened up again, another figure stood on the threshold.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to see you in this facility ever again,” Obi-Wan’s tone was calm, but there was a certain undertone to it that sent shivers down Anakin’s spine and his eyes had turned gold.

“Believe me when I say that I wouldn’t be here, unless it was not very important.”

“And what could be so important that you come barging in like a possessed man, destroying my property?” he tilted his head and rested his hands on his hips, suspiciously close to his lightsaber.

The raven haired male leaned against the doorframe, his cold eyes had darted between the two Jedi and then back to the older dark side user. “You have something that belongs to me and I want it back.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow in a challenging way, “And what would that be?”

“Two of my workers,” he looked pointedly at Anakin and Qui-Gon.

“Slavery is forbidden in this system and since they are not your slaves and therefore not your possession, they are free to leave whenever they like. If they get fired is another matter altogether.”

The raven haired male’s eyes narrowed and he took a threatening step forward. His right hand rested directly on the hilt of his lightsaber. “Those two are Jedi and my captives. I want them back and I want them now.”

To the Jedis’ surprise, did Obi-Wan only grin, “Jedi? Oh, you mean like the two Jedi, who were here on a negotiation mission, between the two clans behind the mountain border?”

“Don’t play coy with me, you know exactly that it was ME, who called for them.”
Obi-Wan shrugged, “Prove it.”

Xanatos snarled in anger and his face was only inches away from the older males. Anakin and Qui-Gon briefly glanced at each other. They were witnessing a duel of dominance and they were not sure, who would win.

“It is your duty as a Sith to hand those Jedi over,” said Xanatos.

“One, IF I had to hand them over, then I certainly would not give them to you. Two, I could deal with them on my own, why would I need you and your ‘help’?” he scoffed at the last word, “And three, I don’t have to do anything. I am a healer and they have asked me for medical attention, therefore I am bound to help them. Not that you would understand what the words loyalty and honor mean.”

Xanatos’ eyes blazed in fury and he had his lightsaber halfway raised, when Obi-Wan made his move. Faster than any room’s occupants could look, he had a tight grip on his younger opponent’s wrist and with a well placed hit to the other’s elbow, a sickening crunch was heard. The raven haired man gasped in pain and clutched his arm, his lightsaber had fallen uselessly to the ground and one leather boot stood on it.

“I dare you to try that again, there are enough other weak points in your body and I know all of them,” Obi-Wan stood his ground.

Xanatos bared his teeth, but realization was clear in his cold and angry eyes. He knew that he was outmatched, especially without his lightsaber and with the other’s knowledge about the human anatomy.

“You will pay for that.” Obi-Wan simply opened his arms in a silent invitation, but Xanatos just sent him another hateful glance and turned tail, his lightsaber still under the healer’s boot.
“He never deserved it anyway,” Obi-Wan mumbled and increased the pressure on the metal cylinder until a loud crack resonated in the room. When the ginger haired Sith stepped aside, the Jedi were able to see the sad remains of a functioning lightsaber, only the crystal seemed to be still in tact. Obi-Wan picked it up. “Is this Jedi property?”
“The Jedi do not own red lightsaber crystals,” Anakin answered, still shocked from what he had just witnessed. He had never known his successor to be so submissive and to give in so easily. It had to mean that he truly feared Kenobi and if this were the case, things could get VERY ugly if they angered the healer.
“Your loss,” Kenobi simply said and pocketed the crystal, before returning to his previous task. The air around him was still vibrating, but it was not as unpleasant and dangerous as before.
—————–
Anakin was surprised at the size and the openness of the facility. He would almost called it homely and cosy, but since he was talking about a medical station, he would NOT say that out aloud, ever.
His Master was still in a final check up that Kenobi wanted to run after they had stayed for a couple of days and the Sith had forbidden Anakin from participating. He had mumbled something about hovering Jedi and their distracting emotions. Anakin was not sure if he had meant that seriously or in a sarcastic way, Kenobi was hard to read. Though Qui-Gon did NOT seem to have such problems, perhaps it was because he was an experienced Master and older. Then again, the Padawan HAD felt something between them and once more was he asking himself what exactly had happened in the time he had been unconscious.
The sound of children’s laughter caught the young male’s attention and he quickly followed the commotion. He found himself in a large garden, the room reminded him a lot of the Room of a Thousand Fountains back in the temple. And to the Padawan’s surprise, there were children running around. Most of them had bandages, some looked a little too pale or a bit green and only a handful sat either in a wheelchair or were sleeping somewhere nearby. It was a merry and lively setting and the Padawan felt immediately influenced by the playing children’s joy.
“The Living Force is strong here,” a baritone voice whispered behind him and Anakin had to admit that he flinched in surprise. He had not felt his Master approaching.
“I wonder what they are doing here.”
“They are patients,” an accented voice joined the conversation, “Most of them at least. Some simply like to visit.” The Sith stepped forward into the garden and it did not take long for him to get spotted.
A high pitched squeak escaped one of the girls followed by a equally loud, “Obi-Wan,” and all hell broke loose. Faster than the Jedi had thought that the children could move, had they circled around the ginger haired male and all were trying to cling and to speak to him at once. Yet the Sith did not seem overwhelmed, he handled the situation with calmness and a smile on his lips. In this moment, the Sith looked like more a Jedi than a dark side user.
“Master?” Anakin began, but when no form of acknowledgement came, he glanced to his right, where the tall man stood. Qui-Gon’s midnight blue eyes were resting on the scene before them. No, that was not right, noticed the Padawan. The older Jedi’s eyes were resting on Obi-Wan and only on him.
The Sith chose this moment to look up as well and his ever changing blue-green eyes made contact with midnight blue ones. He was unguarded in this particular moment, no mask was covering his features or his Force presence and Qui-Gon’s heart suddenly beat faster. He couldn’t explain it what it was, not yet, but it felt pleasant and the tickling sensation in his stomach was quite welcome. It made him feel like a teenager again, even though he was not THAT old with his 43 years. He wondered how old Obi-Wan was.
An almost shy smile appeared on the Sith’s features and he slowly turned back to the children, who were all competing for his attention and even though Qui-Gon wanted to stay here and watch the ginger haired man forever, he turned around and gave them their privacy.
“Master!” The tone in which his title had been said, told Qui-Gon that he had been elsewhere with his mind and that Anakin had called him more than ones.
“Forgive me Padawan, my focus was elsewhere,” namely on a walking sin that was called Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had the most handsome eyes the long haired man had ever seen. Strangely, Qui-Gon was always drawn to someone’s eyes first, it had also been so with Tahl, before she had made clear that they were both Jedi and therefore could NEVER be together.
“And you always scold me, when I don’t pay attention,” the blonde pouted.
“Of course I do, I am the Master after all,” he began to walk away from the happy scene and decided to return to his room. His legs were starting to protest and his stomach rebelled, he was hungry and he guessed that Anakin must be as well.
The blonde sighed and let the topic drop, at least for now. “When will we leave?”
“As soon as Obi-Wan deems us ready to leave. I have already contacted the Council and gave them my report, they too advised us to stay a little longer, but undoubtedly for other reasons.”
“They want us to spy on Kenobi,” he concluded.
A moment of hesitation, “Yes. But I won’t do it.”
A groan escaped the younger male. “Master please,” he whined, “don’t defy the Council, not again.” It was not that he disliked Qui-Gon’s often rash decisions or that he actually liked the Council’s, but he was not very fond of the punishment they would receive. And as the man’s Padawan, he would be seen as partner in crime.
“This is not about defying the Council, my VERY young student. This is about repaying the great favor Obi-Wan gave us.”
“He is a Sith, Master,” it was only logic for the Council to want information from the Healer.
“He saved both our lives and you should be more grateful,” his tone held no room for argument. “He did not have to help us as good as he did. Also, he could just have believed Xanatos’ words and handed us over.”
From this perspective, Anakin could understand his Master’s decision. It didn’t mean that he had to like it. “I understand.”
“Good, now let us return to our room, I’m getting tired.”
————
Anakin was surprised at the size and the openness of the facility. He would almost called it homely and cosy, but since he was talking about a medical station, he would NOT say that out aloud, ever.
His Master was still in a final check up that Kenobi wanted to run after they had stayed for a couple of days and the Sith had forbidden Anakin from participating. He had mumbled something about hovering Jedi and their distracting emotions. Anakin was not sure if he had meant that seriously or in a sarcastic way, Kenobi was hard to read. Though Qui-Gon did NOT seem to have such problems, perhaps it was because he was an experienced Master and older. Then again, the Padawan HAD felt something between them and once more was he asking himself what exactly had happened in the time he had been unconscious.
The sound of children’s laughter caught the young male’s attention and he quickly followed the commotion. He found himself in a large garden, the room reminded him a lot of the Room of a Thousand Fountains back in the temple. And to the Padawan’s surprise, there were children running around. Most of them had bandages, some looked a little too pale or a bit green and only a handful sat either in a wheelchair or were sleeping somewhere nearby. It was a merry and lively setting and the Padawan felt immediately influenced by the playing children’s joy.
“The Living Force is strong here,” a baritone voice whispered behind him and Anakin had to admit that he flinched in surprise. He had not felt his Master approaching.
“I wonder what they are doing here.”
“They are patients,” an accented voice joined the conversation, “Most of them at least. Some simply like to visit.” The Sith stepped forward into the garden and it did not take long for him to get spotted.
A high pitched squeak escaped one of the girls followed by a equally loud, “Obi-Wan,” and all hell broke loose. Faster than the Jedi had thought that the children could move, had they circled around the ginger haired male and all were trying to cling and to speak to him at once. Yet the Sith did not seem overwhelmed, he handled the situation with calmness and a smile on his lips. In this moment, the Sith looked like more a Jedi than a dark side user.
“Master?” Anakin began, but when no form of acknowledgement came, he glanced to his right, where the tall man stood. Qui-Gon’s midnight blue eyes were resting on the scene before them. No, that was not right, noticed the Padawan. The older Jedi’s eyes were resting on Obi-Wan and only on him.
The Sith chose this moment to look up as well and his ever changing blue-green eyes made contact with midnight blue ones. He was unguarded in this particular moment, no mask was covering his features or his Force presence and Qui-Gon’s heart suddenly beat faster. He couldn’t explain it what it was, not yet, but it felt pleasant and the tickling sensation in his stomach was quite welcome. It made him feel like a teenager again, even though he was not THAT old with his 43 years. He wondered how old Obi-Wan was.
An almost shy smile appeared on the Sith’s features and he slowly turned back to the children, who were all competing for his attention and even though Qui-Gon wanted to stay here and watch the ginger haired man forever, he turned around and gave them their privacy.
“Master!” The tone in which his title had been said, told Qui-Gon that he had been elsewhere with his mind and that Anakin had called him more than ones.
“Forgive me Padawan, my focus was elsewhere,” namely on a walking sin that was called Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had the most handsome eyes the long haired man had ever seen. Strangely, Qui-Gon was always drawn to someone’s eyes first, it had also been so with Tahl, before she had made clear that they were both Jedi and therefore could NEVER be together.
“And you always scold me, when I don’t pay attention,” the blonde pouted.
“Of course I do, I am the Master after all,” he began to walk away from the happy scene and decided to return to his room. His legs were starting to protest and his stomach rebelled, he was hungry and he guessed that Anakin must be as well.
The blonde sighed and let the topic drop, at least for now. “When will we leave?”
“As soon as Obi-Wan deems us ready to leave. I have already contacted the Council and gave them my report, they too advised us to stay a little longer, but undoubtedly for other reasons.”
“They want us to spy on Kenobi,” he concluded.
A moment of hesitation, “Yes. But I won’t do it.”
A groan escaped the younger male. “Master please,” he whined, “don’t defy the Council, not again.” It was not that he disliked Qui-Gon’s often rash decisions or that he actually liked the Council’s, but he was not very fond of the punishment they would receive. And as the man’s Padawan, he would be seen as partner in crime.
“This is not about defying the Council, my VERY young student. This is about repaying the great favor Obi-Wan gave us.”
“He is a Sith, Master,” it was only logic for the Council to want information from the Healer.
“He saved both our lives and you should be more grateful,” his tone held no room for argument. “He did not have to help us as good as he did. Also, he could just have believed Xanatos’ words and handed us over.”
From this perspective, Anakin could understand his Master’s decision. It didn’t mean that he had to like it. “I understand.”
“Good, now let us return to our room, I’m getting tired.”

_____________

He was being shaken vigorously, as if the person waking him was panicked.
“Just five more minutes,” he groaned and was about to turn over, when an all too familiar accented voice spoke loudly into his ear.
“You might not have five more minutes, stand up!” Even the man’s usually calm tone was panicked and it caught the Padawan’s attention. Anakin was immediately wide awake and he sat up, almost colliding with the Sith standing over him. He noticed that Obi-Wan’s eyes had a haunted look, there was fear in their depths and his hair was in disarray too.
Without giving an answer, the Healer moved to the Jedi Master, who was partly woken by the commotion next to him. “Qui-Gon, you have to get up and leave, quick.”
“What?” bearded features looked at the younger male in confusion.
“No time for questions, hurry!” He was out of the room again, shouting orders that the two Jedi could not quite make out.
“What was this all about?” asked the blonde and he slowly got out of bed.
“I don’t know, but we should do as he says.”
As fast as they could, the Jedi dressed in their Jedi uniforms that were freshly washed. Then, they exited their rooms, only to be greeted by complete chaos. Droids were hovering, driving and running down the corridors. They were beeping and saying things to each other and to humans and other beings they had in tow. Some of the droids were carrying obviously ill patients, who looked on the verge of death, others were carrying supplies. And in the middle of the chaos, was Obi-Wan. He seemed to know what each droid was doing and he seemed to be directing them, while also running wildly around.
“No, get the children and the women to safety first, then the men. CT-24 drop that and get back to the the third floor.”
“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon yelled over the whole commotion.
The Sith’s head turned to him, blue-green eyes recognizing the speaker. “No, no, evacuate the upper floors first.” He made his way towards the Jedi who had called, Qui-Gon met him halfway.
The two Force users almost crashed into each other, but the long haired male grabbed the younger man’s elbows and held him close and steady, so that they would not be in the way of the working droids, at least not too much.
“What’s the matter?” the taller male asked worried.
“We are under attack. My scouts have informed me of a group of droids that are on their way here. There is no doubt what their goal is and… your former apprentice is leading them.”
“Obi,” he wanted to apologize, but the Sith cut in.
“I have to supervise the evacuation, excuse me.” He did not look too happy about letting go of the older man, but he did it nevertheless.
Qui-Gon hurried to catch up with him, “Can we help?” He felt responsible for the attack and he didn’t want to see the ginger haired Healer in such distress.
“No, yes… I don’t know. Get as many patients out if here as possible. Transports are waiting outside, they will bring them towards the villages beyond the mountain passage. They should be save there.”
Qui-Gon nodded in understanding and pushed his chestnut brown hair out of his face, before turning to his apprentice, who had followed close behind. “You heard him Anakin, let’s go.”

The Master-Padawan-Team was surprised at how well the evacuation worked. They had experienced quite different things during their years together, bit Obi-Wan seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
“Is everybody out?” Qui-Gon asked when the young Healer passed him one of the older patients. He carefully laid the old man onto a seat and gave the driver a sign to move.
“Yes, except the droids and my heart, yes.” Qui-Gon wondered what THAT was supposed to mean and apparently his confusion had shown on his bearded features, for the young Sith hastily added, “This is my home Qui-Gon. I don’t know anything else… not anymore…”
The Jedi Master felt guilt and sadness wash through him. They, he and Anakin, were responsible for this. He watched as the Sith climbed into the last transportation, the crucial cases were here and Obi-Wan had said that he wanted to keep an eye on them during the short drive. The Master sent a last glance towards the building that would soon be only ruins and followed the ginger haired male. He sat next to him.
“Where is your Padawan?” it moved the Master to know that the Sith was concerned.
“He travelled with the children.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “Good, they could use the comfort.”
“Obi-Wan? I’m truly so-” he was interrupted.
“No! Don’t say it, I don’t want to hear it,” with a jolt their transport started moving.
The Jedi sighed, “At least tell me if there is anything that I can do.”
Blue-green eyes were suspiciously wet and Qui-Gon could not help himself, but to lay his arm over the other’s shoulder. To his surprise, Obi-Wan leaned into the contact. “I can’t think of anything.” And that from that brilliant mind of his.
They may have known each other for only a few days, but to Qui-Gon the matter was clear. There was SOMETHING between him and the Sith Healer, though he did not exactly know the true nature yet. He only knew that the Force approved and that the Council most likely wouldn’t. The more reason for him to follow his heart.
“You could come to the temple with me,” he did not say ‘us’, he said 'me’.
“To become a prisoner? I don’t think so.” He was about to pull away, but the older male did not allow it.
“No, not as a prisoner, as a healer. I know I can convince the Council to accept you, especially after all you have done for Anakin and I.”
Blue-green eyes avoided the other’s gaze. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What are you afraid of?” this was the inky explanation he could come up with.
“I’m afraid of getting hurt again, of being alone and all on my own once more, I am afraid of being rejected.” The Sith’s hands clenched into fists and Qui-Gon unconsciously reached out with his free hand and covered them with his larger one. Obi-Wan looked startled at the contact, but then he relaxed and unclenched his fists, only to intertwine his finger’s with Qui-Gon’s.
“You won’t be. I promise.” A shy smile appeared on the Healer’s features and it was the most beautiful thing Qui-Gon had seen.
“Are you sure?” where was this nervousness coming from?
“Yes, the temple can always use another talented Healer,” he hesitated, “And I would look forward to spending more time in your company.”
Something sparkled in the smaller male’s eyes, it was a healthy mixture of mischief and sass. “Are you flirting with me, Master Jinn?”
Qui-Gon huffed at the title, “Perhaps…”
“What would that Code of yours say, hm?” he pretended to be scandalized.
“In all honesty, the Code can go to hell.” There was no denying it. Now that Obi-Wan was so close and open, Qui-Gon could feel the bond between them pulse with life.
“I’m rubbing off on you, I see.” He smiled cockily, which earned him a raised eyebrow.

Was it love between them? Qui-Gon was not sure. But he found that it didn’t really matter anyway. Whatever it was that connected them and formed the bond, it was pure and not influenced by darkness, that was enough for the Jedi Master. The rest would come in time, but for now, he would simply stay in the here and now and enjoy life and the Living Force and Obi-Wan at his side.

———
@quiobiweek

anonymous asked:

So when's the next update

I’m Working As Hard As I Can. I had a bunch of relatives over the past few days and it’s just been Hell Time with my self esteem and self worth and Dealing With Derogatory Comments From Loved Ones © 

So I fled into my suffering cave and just been catatonic there. But now I’m slowly crawling out and going back to my regular schedule. I reckon it’ll take maybe 3-4 more days or less. 

Up soon:

Dallas hanging up posters of missing persons. “I slur a plea for you to come home. But I know it’s too late, And I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay, Given you a reason to stay”

Howling Willows

Request from @sonador-reveur: “Would you mind writing something titled “Howling Willows”?” Hope you like it!


We never knew– was it the trees themselves, or was it something inside them?

No one wanted to find out. No one ever did find out.

Every time you set foot near that forest, that godforsaken clump of willows, it started.

First shrieking. A high-pitched, awful sound, dissolving soon after into a desperate scream of fear and then sinking down into a mournful howl of need.

A trick of the wind, they always said. A trick of the wind.

It was the chick’s idea to go up to them. In my memory, she’s faceless– just another one of the bland girls we cycled through. I dare you to touch one, she whispered to whatever guy she was hanging onto that night. I dare you to touch a tree.

The guy– maybe his name was Brad, or Mark, or Adam, I couldn’t tell you –his eyes went dark. Us, we never turned down a dare. We were the toughest fucking kids around, everybody knew that.

He got to his feet. I remember exactly where we were: the edge of one girl’s massive backyard, the clutch of willows maybe a couple hundred meters down the road. It was dark, nearly midnight, we were halfway to drunk dead out of our minds.

You’re always braver when you’re drunk, my older brother had told me once. Or maybe always stupider, I can’t remember.

The night was hazy around us, misty, like were living a memory. Brad-Tony-Jeff stood up and said Fine, I ain’t no pussy, let’s go, only his words were fuzzy on the edges, slurred.

He led the maybe twelve of us out of the chick’s yard and onto the road, deserted at this hour. We were laughing, we were nervous even through our foggy heads, we were exhilarated.

An eternity and a half later, we made it to the trees. The girls were jittery with fear, the guys were set, hiding their terror. 

There were no more than forty willows, and every one of them looked alive. Alive like at any second they were going to step towards you, those long, bony branches reaching, reaching. Those trees looked hungry, as though they’d gone centuries without a meal and they were starving for another.

It didn’t take long for the shrieking to start. A few girls burst into tears, one even fled. Most of us just covered our ears and waited out the horrible screeching, like nails on a chalkboard.

It took another millennia until the shrieks diminished to that sad, shiver-inducing howl, like a dog abandoned.

Do it, you gotta do it, someone hollered, and whatever-his-name-was stumbled forward. He was having second thoughts, we could tell, but he wasn’t going to lose his reputation.

Bitch… he murmured, shaking the chick off his arm. She immediately latched onto me. I still have tiny crescent scars on my bicep, marks from where her fingernails dug into my skin.

The guy made it up to the closest tree. His fingers were shaking visibly as he reached out a hand to graze its weeping, hungry branches. We collectively held our breath, wondered, imagined the worst.

We did hear his scream that night, we all did, but not many of us stuck around to hear its end. 

We weren’t close friends, any of us, we hung out because we shared an interest in getting drunk and high on weekends. Not because we cared about each other. It wasn’t an act of betrayal that made us book it. Every single one of us put ourselves first and foremost, always. That was the rule.

I turned tail and ran, too. That bitch still clung to me, sobbing. What did we do, she kept saying. What did we do.

We made it back up to the road and scattered, off toward our respective houses, fear driving the booze from our veins. I shook the girl off and sprinted my track star ass back home. It was 12:30 when I got back. I threw myself under my pillow and I stayed there for a long time, trying to drown out the sound of the willows howling in the distance.

They sounded much less hungry than before.