unwelcome attentions

Brave Williams from New York is just 17 but is already 7ft 1 and growing

Towering over his teammates at 7ft 1in tall, 17-year-old Brave Williams is hoping his height can help propel him to sporting stardom.

The 400lb senior at Lake Shore High School in Angola, New York, is already a highly-regarded member of his high school basketball and American football teams.

And the youngster is now setting his sights on winning a much-coveted college athletic scholarship.

‘When I was five years old, I was like 5ft 3in.’

'The teachers thought I was actually a second grader, so they put me in the wrong class for about an hour before they realised their mistake.’

'I had to tell them that I was just starting school.’

However, Brave very nearly didn’t make it to even his first birthday - he had to be delivered via caesarian because the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck.

'The doctors tried to pull me out three times before they were going to take more drastic measures. But as soon as my dad touched my mom’s forehead, I let go, and the doctors got me out,’ Brave told high school sports site MaxPreps.

'My dad instantly named me Brave because I needed a strong name.’

Specialists were concerned that he might be suffering from a form of gigantism known as Sotos syndrome, but tests done at three months and again at three years came back clear - much to the relief of his mother Angela.

She said: 'Every day he grew more and more, so that was when I got worried.

'To finally get the word that you have just got a tall kid was really relieving to say the least.’

Brave is now 7ft 1in tall - the same as Basketball Hall of Fame legend Shaquille O'Neal - but experts predict will be 7ft 5in by the time he stops growing, the same size as his great-great uncle.

Brave said: 'He made a pine tree look like a sapling. So, I think that’s where I got most of my height from.’

Born of African-American and Native American heritage, Brave lives on the Cattaraugus Reservation in the Seneca Nation of Indians.

The tall teen sleeps in a custom-made bed, although his feet still dangle off the end, and wears size 21 shoes.

While Brave’s size makes him killer on the court, it does also attract unwelcome attention in the form of stares and comments.

Mom Angela said: 'It was tough for me when my son turned five because then he had to go to school and I had to share him with the world.

'It was hard because he is sensitive and people stare, they look, they point.

'Now he’ll take the time to talk to everybody, people ask him the same questions over and over again - “How tall are you? Are you a wrestler? Are you this? Are you that?” And he just takes the time to respond, that’s his special gift.’

Brave is now determined to go on and become a pro athlete, but says he wants to go to college and complete his studies first - and would like to major in engineering.

And for 5ft 9in Angela, Brave’s stature is more than just an accident of genetics.

'I thought about my son being tall for a long time, and I think there is a reason why he’s so tall - because it gets him noticed and makes people listen to him,’ she added.

'But the rest is what matters, what really makes him special. I know he’s going to do big things.’


Uninvited. {Dean Ambrose}

Summary: Housesitting for Dean had its perks, his house was beautiful, quiet and relaxing when it came to studying compared to your dorm or the lecture hall. However, your friends convince you to throw a party at his bachelor pad only to have Dean crash the party.

Warning: Smut. Smut. Smut.

Masterlist: Here

Keep reading

Well, here’s a thing kinda inspired by the “knights”-thing. I apologize for the not-all-to-high quality, and for some liberties  I took with the campus.


There are several clubs on the campus of Elsewhere, run and staffed by students and young faculty members.
Of course, these less traffic than similar institutions at other universities. Who would go clubbing, when being out at night means the risk of being abducted, after all? Even more so when the alcohol flows, the music sounds through the night, when the blood sings in your veins from the rhythm and the exhilaration.

Well, turns out that there’s still enough night life for these clubs to stay open.
But people are weary of the dangers, and measures for safety are taken: The doorways are salted (“Drinks are spilled, and we don’t want people slipping”), many drinks are sold in iron mugs (“They don’t break, you see?”) and the spaces in front of them are well lit.

But each of them also has a special position, one that is never spoken of in public. One that doesn’t exist, officially. It is hard to pin down, since the formal designation and job description vary from club to club. Sometimes it is the medical treatment in case something happens, taking care of those who drank to much, responsible in case something happens, an extra bouncer and so on.
And one might think of it as a coincidence that all of them are experienced students, or alumni still working in the area. That almost all of them happen to be students of law or chemistry or engineering. That they always come to their shifts with bags full of iron (powdered and solid), dust of aluminium and stores of sweets and pretty baubles.
That no club would ever open without one of them.

Or one might recognize them as the militia they are. Not looking for confrontations with the gentry, wary of provoking them, but somebody needs to protect those who would walk home alone over dark paths, those who danced a little to well and may have attracted unwelcome attention, those who might be drunk enough to strike unwise deals.

Their reasons for risking this role are almost as many as there are souls willing to fill it. Most do it out of genuine concern for their fellow students. Others do it so that the rules might not be compromised. But some few… Well, some just lost a bit to much to the Others, and are not willing to let the same happen to more students or are even outright looking for payback.They know that they can’t hurt Them this way, not really. But denying them something They want, well, that might just appear to be worth the cost.



NOW PROPERLY EDITED || Angsty Levi drabble to try and get back into my writing groove. I left the other character extremely vague so feel free to imagine the other half of your Levi otp if you wish. Otherwise, enjoy and hit me with some feedback if you do not mind~! Special thanks to @perksofbeingawaifu for inspiring me to write more drabbles! Definitely check out her works!!

Levi’s eyes always seemed to wander over his surroundings with a meticulous edge. Lids heavy over piercing irises as he scanned every inch of each environment he stepped into. Nothing ever seemed to slip past his vision. Even the dust particles that would float and dance in the light of the mid-morning sun were completely visible to him in shadow.

This was a skill he had honed in his earlier years. Always needing to be aware of what was behind him or who was around each corner in the darkness of the underground. Always wanting to avoid unnecessary attention and unwelcomed company as he would weave his way through damp back alleys and overcrowded walkways. Without a doubt, his hands were fine tools. Eleminating danger in a matter of seconds with a sharp slash of his shining blade before cleaning the mess left behind on his slender fingers.

However, he didn’t trust his hands. Lethal things coated in death and destruction. Only able to save a few while harming many. His hands moved as ordered and they served him well, but sometimes they would fail him and leave him grasping at cold air instead of something solid and warm. The lives of those dear to him have slipped through his fingers too many times for him to have faith in their truth. His eyes showed him possibilities and outcomes. They showed him what was and what could be, but a majority of the time, his hands would fail to deliver the proper results.

But his eyes…

His eyes were his veil. His way of masking himself into the low of society he had spent his entire life surrounded by. His way of blending into shadows and vast seas of people to hide his existence from those who would seek to end it. His eyes were his shield and his first line of defense. They never lied and they never failed him. He trusted his eyes. He believed in the images they painted for him, even if they were hard to process or even accept.

So, even now, as he stood in front of the mirror with his ghastly physical appearance being projected before him; he fully trusted what he saw. The bags under his eyes had become severe. A faint hue of red bleeding into the whites while the blue in his irises appeared dull and grey. Lifeless and sleep deprived from years of painting blood soaked images of his corpse ridden reality, only for his mind to process and use as haunts for his short lived dreams.

He looked like shit and there was no hiding it either.

He was much older now and it showed. The life he was leading showed, and the weight of the lives he carried to the grave showed. All of it was apparent in his eyes. A man who was exhausted, but strong. Lonely, but stable. Empty, but still alive. It was all there and staring back at him as he towel dried the scruff of his hair.

He needed to sleep, he determined. Setting the towel aside as he ran his fingers over the course hair coating his jaw.

His eyes were indeed windows, he surmised as he heaved a sigh at the reflective glass. Windows he desperately needed to shut if only for a couple of hours, but when he did, the images they had painted over the years would slide through his dreams like a moving picture. Replaying his darkest moments over and over again until his mind would scream at him to wake up. For him to open the windows and to let them paint more pictures for him to continuously relive.

Slowly, he rubbed his lids with the pads of his fingers. Pushing himself away from the mirror and out of the door frame of the washroom and into the soft candle glow of his quiet office. Looking at himself was hard. Seeing himself with the eyes he so trusted and having to accept that that was indeed how he currently appeared made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

He always made it a point to be presentable, but today he was just too tired to do so. Three days with no sleep and little to no food quickly took it’s toll, and his body was now at an age where he couldn’t outright hide his shitty sleeping habits, or lack thereof, with a clean shave, and a few cups of strong tea.

His hands moved back to his jaw. Scratching at the rough hairs he wasn’t used to wearing as he strode over towards his clean, hung up shirt, and laid out uniform boots. The nights were getting colder and longer and his health wasn’t in top form at this point. The last thing he needed was to get sick on top of his already piss poor condition.

“You look pretty rough.” A soft voice chimed. An echo Levi had long thought lost and a sound that made his heart clench in his chest.

“I know.” He answered firmly. Rounding his trustworthy eyes towards his office chair that was positioned behind him where a shadowed silhouette sat comfortably.

“You should sleep.” The voice resounded. The leather of his chair squeaking as the figure adjusted their body to face him more clearly.

“I know.” He responded again. His feet slowly stepping across the wood of the floor while his hands remained stock still at his hips.

The figure was a familiar one. One he hadn’t seen for quite some time and one he’d admittedly missed and cared for quite deeply. Still though, that didn’t negate the fact that they were sitting their precious ass in his office chair.

“Get your ass out of my chair.”

The figure laughed heartily. Standing up completely straight in one smooth, eerily quiet motion before moving around the desk and stepping into the dim light of a single flame that danced atop a mostly melted candle.


“Why are you here?” Levi asked sharply. His tired eyes staying locked on the person in front of him while his body moved around them and toward his oak desk. Each of his steps precise and angled so not to cause a floorboard to squeak.

“I just… wanted to see you. That’s all.”

Levi let out a huff. Blinking his eyes a couple of times as he picked up a file from his desk with his clever fingers. Tapping the tip of his index against the paper sharply as he evened out his breathing and began moving toward the elegantly lit body in front of him.

“I wanted to see you too, but you shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

“Then go.”

“Can’t we just tal-”


Levi’s body had stopped only a few inches from the figment in front of him. His free hand reaching out to grasp at a lock of hair. To run his fingers through it and touch the silky strands that his eyes showed him were there. But his hands were only met with cold air. A breeze in the night against his still damp skin. With an exasperated hum, Levi retracted his fingers. Silently turning and moving his body toward his office chair and sitting down with a hard thump.

“Disappointed?” The figure questioned cheekily. Stepping to sit in the front facing chair directly across from Levi’s own. Their movements making no sounds and their voice barely audible enough for his overly tired ears to hear.

“Of course.” He murmured. Staring at the smiling face in front of him with honest regret and exhaustion.

His chest hurt terribly while his eyes burned with leashed tears and rapidly approaching sleep. He was losing his mind. He was sure of it, but his eyes had never failed him before. Not even in his deepest pits of exhaustion and not even when he silently begged a god he doesn’t believe in to let him see this face smiling at him one last time as he stared down at their pale, blood drained body.

The sadness and greif he felt as he peered into the glowing eyes of the other across from him matched the fear of them disappearing in his gut. His face remained as passive as ever, but emotion boiled over internally to the point of rising acidic bile in his throat as he leaned forward and rested his head against the cold slab of the desk.

“Sleep. I’ll stay.”

“You’re not even real.” He stated sharply. Reaching one hand out while placing the other under his head as a cushion.

“Of course I am. You can see me, can’t you?”

Levi remained quiet for a moment. Watching with hopeful, tired eyes as the figures hand reached over and met his own. Gracing his sense of touch with nothing but cold air yet again. A frown pulling at his lips and his brows furrowing while his ears rang acutely. His vision slowly but surely going dark, and the view of he and his lovers interlocking fingers slowly fading to black.

“Yeah.” He whispered. Sleep washing over him in a deep wave and pulling him under.

He trusted his eyes. He believed in the images they painted for him, even if they were hard to process or even accept. However, he didn’t trust his hands. Sometimes they would fail him, and leave him grasping at cold air instead of something solid and warm. Sometimes, they would let precious things slip from his grip and shatter into tiny pieces that would scatter to the wind.

But, most of the time, they would leave him yearning for a touch of warmth that he could no longer feel.

kitsunesongs  asked:

Something where Alpha!Anakin discovers his master, who he'd always thought was a beta, is an Omega? Obikin, preferably!

They were both frozen against the heated floor, Anakin’s body heavy ontop of Obi-Wan’s as they laid against the sandbank where they had fallen. Absently Anakin heard the sound of the fight still going on in the distance but all he could focus on was the warm, panting body beneath him with the scent of blood and sweetness in the air.

Obi-Wan tensed a bit as Anakin’s arms tightened around him, one arm beneath his head on the sand dunes and the other around his lower back.

“Anakin…you need to let go…” He whispered, squeaking a bit when the other nuzzled against his neck. “Anakin, Qui-Gon needs us!” He hissed before yelping when Anakin licked his neck. “Anakin!” He firmly pushed the alpha of him, shaking a bit as he sat up quickly, holding his bleeding arm to him where the scent blocker had been working only minutes before.

Once away from the overwhelming scent, Anakin shook his head in confusion and stared at his brother padawan. “You-”

“Not now Anakin.” Obi-Wan shot to his feet, staggering up the sandbank as quickly as he could while summoning his saber to his hand.

That was enough to shake Anakin fully from his trance and he jumped to his feet as he followed to help Qui-Gon with the mercenaries they had discovered working with the rebellion of the planet.


Anakin had been basically hovering at his shoulder since the moment they had fallen down the sandbanks, looking both confused and intrigued.

‘I should never have responded to his flirting.’ Obi-Wan thought absently even as he let Qui-Gon take a look at the ruined implant in his arm. ‘Honestly, what did I think would happen if my implant ever stopped working?’ He grumbled mentally.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan but I’ll have to remove it fully. The damage done to it has caused it to fully malfunction and leaving it in might do more harm then good.” Qui-Gon announced after a few moments before pulling the medical kit closer to find the numbing agent.

That got a huge sigh out of the redhead. “Are you sure? Can it be fixed?”

“Its delicate work Obi-Wan. You know that better then me.” His former master offered sternly before rubbing the numbing agent into the skin and picking up the scalpel as they waited for Obi-Wan’s arm to go fully numb. “I’m not leaving it in to ruin your system, you’ll have to have a new put in once at the temple again.”

Obi-Wan grumbled but nodded, looking away from his arm when Qui-Gon settled in to cut out the implant. Then he hurriedly looked to the ceiling when he caught Anakin’s intent eyes.

“I didn’t know you were an omega.”

“It wasn’t important.” Obi-Wan offered, almost sharply and Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at him. Obi-Wan felt more then he saw Anakin do the same.

“Does this have anything to do with the whole song and dance you two been putting on for weeks?” Qui-Gon drawled almost in amusement as he carefully removed the broken bits of the implant from Obi-Wan’s upper arm with a tweezer.

“…Oh please tell me its not the talk of the temple?”
“No but I spend time with both of you.” Qui-Gon chuckled as he picked up the bacta patch to put over the wound. “So, what’s going on?”

“We’ve been flirting.” Anakin shrugged.

Obi-Wan flustered.

“Obi-Wan flirts with everyone.” Qui-Gon pointed out calmly.

Anakin rolled his shoulders and gave an annoyed grunt. “I know. Its annoying. He’s mine.”

“I’m no ones.” Obi-Wan shot back then shifted when Anakin raised his eyebrows. “Not…not yet at least. I’m no ones yet.”

Qui-Gon hummed. “Didn’t think you two would be compatible at all. You two are…”

“Different? Opposites attract they say. I just had no idea Obi-Wan was an omega, I wouldn’t have gone forward as I did if I’d known, I just figured he was a beta.” The blond frowned at the other man who shrugged awkwardly.

“I didn’t think it was important. I didn’t know you were…serious.”

Anakin gave a deep snort and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well now you know. Wait, is my attention unwelcome?” He looked suddenly unsure.

“And with that I pack up the kit and go to the downstairs to fetch lunch while you two talk this over.” Qui-Gon chuckled, standing as he pulled the kit together and headed out into the rooms they had been provided with.

Obi-Wan almost wanted to call the older man back when Anakin sat down on the bed, staring at him. “Obi-Wan, is my attention unwelcome?”

“I…not…not exactly. I thought you were just…casually flirting though. You seem to want…”

“More?” Anakin raised his brows then shrugged. “Yes. I want you for me, mated to me, mine. Just as I want to be yours.” He hesitated a bit before reaching out and taking Obi-Wan’s hands. “I’ll stop if that’s not what you want though. I mean…I thought you knew.”

“I guess…there’s been a few misconceptions between us then.” The older man murmured, staring at the blonds hands holding his. “I…don’t know Anakin. I never…thought…I mean…the code says…”

“Hang the code. You’ve been listening to much to Yoda.” Anakin scowled. “Obi-Wan, for once, think for yourself, be a LITTLE bit selfish. I know its against your personality but tell me what you want.”

Obi-Wan went mute, staring at the hands holding his before looking into blue eyes. “…I want to be held and feel warm…and safe. Is…I could…perhaps with you?”

“I’d hold you tight and close and I’d keep you safe.” Anakin shifted closer, leaning in slowly while giving the other time to pull back if he wanted to. When Obi-Wan remained, he pressed his lips to Obi-Wan in a languid, steady kiss.

Just Say You Remember (Newt)

Newt x Reader - 5,248 words 

Request: Yes (Reader is sent into maze and remembers Newt, but he doesn’t remember her until the memory swipe is removed.) *Doesn’t follow entire Maze Runner/Scorch plot but it’s still the same idea I guess. xD*

From the moment Y/N woke up in the box, opened her eyes and gripped his hand, she remembered him. There was no mistaking his familiar brown eyes and soft smile. Somewhere along the line, the creators had either chosen or forgotten to wipe her memories of Newt. The late nights spent awake in the compound working on assignments, racing him down the halls… all the way up to the night he was torn from her side and thrown into the maze. She watched him slowly deteriorate, slowly lose his mind, and finally climb up one of the walls in that godforsaken maze. It lacerated her heart to watch him crumble away. For the longest time, she’d almost wished the ivy had reached all the way to the top. It would have saved him months of suffering. Two years and ten months had passed since he was thrown into that place and she couldn’t watch it any longer. So, she did everything she could to get herself thrown in the maze. She stockpiled all of W.I.C.K.E.D’s compound coordinates, sent out a few to the Right Arm, leaving the rest with her friend Thomas to release when the time seemed right.

Although it was painful to have watched Newt suffer in the way he did, the worst pain she’d ever known was when she found out he didn’t remember her. ‘Day one, greenie.’ Were the first words he said to her, staring with blank, innocent eyes, not even the slightest sign of recognition hidden within them. Maybe the creators not wiping her memory was their sick and twisted definition of revenge for what she’d done. In the least, keeping a watchful eye over Newt inside of the maze was still better than outside of it, even if he didn’t remember her.

Across the fire, the blonde smiled lightly at something Frypan said and then his eyes drifted and met hers. The girls knees were tucked to her chest and her arms wrapped around them protectively. She shamefully darted her eyes away from his gaze and landed on the embers of the fire, suddenly taking extreme interest in their dim glow. Although she fit in and was friends with everyone in the glade, her heart was still full of disillusionment. A walking lie is what she felt like. She wanted to tell him what she remembered but knew it would just seem like fiction to everyone. They had no memories, so why would she? The silence pulled at hear heart, only broken by his voice wafting through the air every so often.

“There she is!” A deep voice slurred due to Gally’s vile concoction and pulled the girl straight from her reverie. A boy slumped down beside Y/N gruffly with a smile that made her stomach churn. Soon, she was surrounded by the boys entourage and knew there was no easy escape. “How’s shebean tonight?” He asked. Y/N slapped his hand away as the builder reached for her hair, oohs leaving his friends. “Eesh- Why such a big temper, ah?” The builders voice now had an underlying sense of irritation and Y/N knew she had to get out. Her eyes darted around past the broad shoulders of builders trying to catch the eyes of someone she trusted.

Suddenly the boy beside her grabbed her arm, knowing she was planning her escape. “Let go.” Y/N snarled, making the boy doubt his decision to restrain her for just a second. But, he gripped even tighter, the pressure sending a sharp shooting pain up the length of her arm. Y/N had no other choice but to shuffle slightly and send her foot straight into the builders ribcage to which he responded with a shrill yelp of agony. “You shank! I said let go!” She barked at him a little louder than she’d hoped. Surely enough, the crowd which surrounded them parted and two tall figures rushed in, prying the builder away from Y/N. Something about it reminded her of the night Newt was taken away.

“C’mon shebean.” Two pairs of strong arms hauled her body off of the ground and out into the moonlit grass of the glade. When they settled her down on the cool earth, her senses cleared and she could see who had come to help her. Her best friends, Minho and Thomas sat in front of her with weary eyes. “You ok?” Thomas whispered and reached for her arm which she hadn’t realized was bleeding until now. The builder certainly had a firm grip, strong enough to tear her skin. “Y-Yeah. I’m good.” She darted her eyes away from both boys in embarrassment. “What’d the shank want anyways?” Minho asked and Y/N tried to remember what he’d even said to her. “Attention from the only girl in the glade, I guess.” She shrugged. It was the same everyday, unwelcome attention time and time again.

For a while, the three sat in silence staring up at the stars. Most bonfire night’s they’d stay up until dawn, talking about anything and everything. Topics ranging all the way from what they thought the world might be like outside of the maze to asking one another what superpowers they’d like to have. Something like superpowers was strange, but it showed some traces of familiarity in the backs of their minds. “Y/N, I still think there’s one thing you’ve never told us.” A mischievous smile grew on Minho’s face, barely illuminated by the moonlight. “Oh? What’s that?” Y/N snickered in disbelief that he may have actually thought of something new. Usually when he said that, he asked a question used three times already.

“You’ve never told us who you like.” He said. Y/N’s stomach dropped and her mind scrambled for a response. “You guys have never told me either.” She exclaimed and Thomas scoffed. “Uhm- You’re the only girl here.” He reminded her. “Right.” The girl muttered. With all of her might, she tried to block the memories of Newt from flowing through her mind. They just hurt too much. “So? Who is it?” Minho propped himself up on his elbow and awaited her response. “Not telling.” Y/N grumbled, refusing to look up at her friend. “So you do like someone.” Thomas blurted out. The girl took in a deep breath which filled her lungs with a dark foreboding. “I-I don’t know. I guess. I did…” Her voice trailed off, her mind slipping back into the memories. “You did? The shuck does that mean?” Minho gazed at her completely perplexed.

“Memories, Minho. I remember some things.” She squeaked and quickly lifted her arm to muffle any other noise that tried to escape her from the torment. She could feel the hearts of her friends sink nearly as low as hers, though she wasn’t sure that was possible. “Who?” Thomas’ body was slouched like he was bearing some of her agony for her. “I-I won’t say. I can’t.” She shook her head from side to side violently, trying to shake the tears which threatened to escape her eyes. Minho wanted to pry her for answers but knew it was wrong. “Does he remember?” He asked, very quickly regretting his words. Her eyes lifted slowly to meet his and he could see everyday of the past few years unfold like a movie in her eyes, full of heartache and misery. “No.” She bit her lip and suddenly her friends were crashing into her body, encasing her in their arms as her body shook from the corrosive memories burned away at every piece of her.

“What’s going on here?” The last voice Y/N wanted to hear in that moment met her ears. A sandy blonde approached with a quizzical look and sat down with the group. “Nothing.” Y/N said with a tone far harsher than she would have ever hoped. “Doesn’t bloody look like nothing.” Newt scoffed, pointing to her cheeks which tears carved deep lines into. “She just… had some memories come back.” Thomas tried to reassure. “Of what? Y/N you need to tell us, especially if it could help us find a way out of this place.” His eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed on hers. Y/N looked down, picking at the grass around her feet. Newt huffed, giving up on trying to get answers from someone whose mind was like a vault. Ever since she had gotten to the glade, he had tried to be her friend. He tried to make sure he was always there for her, even made sure she had a job in the gardens alongside him so he could keep careful watch.

“I can’t say. I-I’m sorry.” She muttered out with the last bit of strength she had inside of her. In that moment, Thomas knew who it was. Y/N had always tried to distance herself from Newt while she grew closer to everyone else. In a sense, he couldn’t believe that she hadn’t just tried to start anew with him. But, holding such strong memories may have made it all just too painful for her to even hear his voice. “Alright,” Newt let out a heavy, dejected sigh. “If you need anything or ever want to talk about it, I’m here. Bloody hell, we’re in the gardens all day together.” Newt put a hand on her shoulder and stood up. Thomas could see her wince from some unexplainable pain Newt’s touch inflicted upon her. Y/N nodded, refusing to even look up at him.

“Well, we’ve got a long day tomorrow, Thomas. We should sleep.” Minho pulled Y/N off of the ground and then reached for his fellow runner. The group ambled towards the homestead, Minho making his departure towards his room while Y/N and Thomas headed for the hammocks. “You sure you’ll be alright?” He asked the girl whose frame radiated defeat. “I’ve made it the past few months quite alright, Thomas. I’ll be fine one more night.” She tried to send him a weak smile but it barely made it half way up her face as she turned away. “Hey Y/N?” Thomas whispered for her and she turned back. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He said and Y/N immediately pursed her lips. She knew Thomas was extremely intuitive, sometimes a little too much. “Thanks.” Once she’d disappeared into the dark, Thomas swore to himself that he would find a way out of the maze. If their memories could be taken, someone somewhere had to have been able to restore them. All he wanted was for Newt to remember even the slightest piece of her before this wretched place.


The next few days seemed to bleed into a few hours in the girls mind. One minute Thomas and Minho had found a way out of a maze, grievers rampaged the glade and Alby was dead. The next, they were arguing with Gally, trying to convince him to leave. Then they were racing through the maze, running straight towards the grievers. Jeff was being torn from her arms by a griever, Chuck had a knife plunged into his chest and now they were in a helicopter. It’s sound reverberating and rattling Y/N’s mind as they passed over the place she had only called home for a short three months. Newt’s legs rest up against hers as the helicopter coast along the skyline into the sun scarred desert which seemed to completely surround them. His legs stung her skin where they touched but she didn’t push them away. Maybe now that they were out of the maze, they had a chance to find their place in this world. The sun was setting over the mountains to the east and Newt could feel the girl beside him drift off to sleep, her head falling on his shoulder. Something inside of him made his stomach lurch, a familiarity swelling in his heart that he just couldn’t place.

Y/N was jolted awake as the aircraft settled on the ground. Her friends were in a turmoil, the hysteria all too apparent in their eyes but she sat paralyzed. Newt grabbed Y/N’s hand and tried to pull her from he helicopter. “Y/N c’mon! We need to go!” He screamed, finally catching her attention. The tall boy raced alongside her through the unbearably deep sand, looking back every so often to the illuminated sand-dune. Wailing creatures that took on some sort of humanoid figure being mowed down the guards machine guns. All Newt had done in his life was run. Run from all of the problems in his head that he knew he’d never be able to shake. He was running a race he knew he’d never win.

The facility they had been welcomed into didn’t seem all that horrible at first. They provided the gladers with showers, clean clothes, food and beds. Y/N was separated from her friends and tossed into her own bathroom where she was told to shower and change. She wasn’t sure she could be so thankful yet terrified at the same time. The time alone left her able to think, but also dwell upon just about every other horrible thing that could be happening to her friends. She didn’t trust this place and it radiated a disturbing energy, it’s architecture very obviously highly influenced by W.I.C.K.E.D. as it looked just like the compound below the maze.

The boys sat in a cold, bleak hall full of tables. It’s air full of the uncertainty each of the gladers had tried to bury deep inside of them. Newt refused to touch the food set out in front of him. If he couldn’t show his defiance any other way, he’d just reject the food until she came back. His heel tapped the ground relentlessly as he tried to release the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It had been five minutes since they arrived in the cafeteria and she was no where to be seen. “Calm down, slinthead. She’ll come.” Minho put his fork down and looked to his friend. “You need to eat.” The Asian insisted, examining Newt’s weakened body. He knew the blonde hadn’t eaten in days. “Not until she’s back.” Newt growled, his conscience now overthrown by fatigue and distress. Minho didn’t dare convince him otherwise.

Another fifteen minutes passed before Newt saw the girl being escorted down the hall by a guard nearly twice her height. She ambled forwards with her head lowered and to the side, refusing to look up to her friends. The sleeves of her shirt ran past her fingertips as it was obviously made for a guy, but nevertheless, it was clean and served it’s purpose. Anything was better than their clothes from the maze. Sheepishly, she sat beside Thomas across from Newt and Minho, smiling up nervously. “You happy, Newt? You can shuckin’ eat now!” Minho eyed Newt’s food and urged him to eat. “What took so long?” Thomas looked to the girl beside him curiously. “They had to run some tests.” She shrugged and rest her head on her arms which lay on the table. “You gonna eat?” Minho cocked an eyebrow and she shook her head in response. “Not hungry.” Y/N muttered. Minho let out a sigh of exhaustion, cursing under his breath. “Do you two have a grudge against food or somethin’? Just shuckin’ eat!”

Newt rolled his eyes and picked up his apple, taking a small bite and throwing it back down. “Happy?” He grumbled at the runner beside him. Suddenly, a hunger filled Newt like never before. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now. Newt pushed his plate into the centre of the table in front of Y/N and urged her to take something. So, she took a piece of bread and ate it as Newt finished off his apple. Before any of them were willing to speak again, a tall man entered the room, clearing his throat quickly catching the gladers attention. “I’m glad you all have made it to our compound safely,” He began, sending a grotesque smile towards the only girl in the room. “I understand you all have very few memories from before the maze. Some of you… more than others.” Once again he glanced very suggestively at Y/N and she darted her eyes around the room. “But don’t worry as that all is about to change. Tomorrow, your memories will be returned. That is, if you want them back.”

“Not like we have a choice. Do we?” Y/N piped up and everyone’s heart stopped, looking to the usually quiet girl in disbelief. The man scowled. “This is a gift, Ms. Y/N. You would have to be out of your mind to refuse such an offer.” He tried to assure everyone in the room but Y/N didn’t agree. “What if we don’t want to remember? What if not remembering saves us a future of guilt, regret, agony…? What if we have memories of our parents vile death? You really think we’d want those back?” She exclaimed. Her fists were clenched as tightly as they could, luckily, not quite firm enough to break the bones in her fingers. “Something tells me you remember something and are just too afraid to know more.” The mans eyebrow raised and he knew he was right. She was just making excuses because she was afraid to know more of her and Newt’s past.

Y/N refused to respond and within moments the man left the room with a proud smirk on his face. Whispers came from the gladers at surrounding tables but she just tried to block them out, refusing to let them enter her mind. Suddenly, she was being pulled from her seat by Thomas and lead down the eery corridor. “You alright, Y/N?” The dark haired boy asked sympathetically, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Fine.” She muttered. “I never told you… after the changing… I could remember you. What you did and how we sent out all of those coordinates.” A small smile crept across his face, knowing how good of friends they’d been. Y/N stifled a laugh and shuffled her feet on the floor, shoving Thomas a little. Newt and Minho walked behind them and the blondes blood began to boil. Her and Thomas had always been close and she acted completely different around him.

They were thrown into a brisk, dimply lit room full of dull colours. Bunks lined the walls and they slowly began to fill up, but Y/N headed straight for the back wall of the room and pressed her head against it frustratedly. Minho, Thomas and Newt all sent one another worried glances and the lanky blonde stepped forwards, sitting down on the bunk closest to the wall. “Something troubling you?” He asked sadly, earning a huff from Y/N. “Come here.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, dragging her to sit beside him. With the girl at his side, Newt looked down with worried eyes. Y/N did all she could to pry her arm from his grip but he just stared sternly. “What’s bloody gotten into you?” He cried. “You won’t even shuckin’ look at me! You obviously remember something but won’t talk about it, so spit it out!” He snapped and all Y/N could do was continue to keep her head low, afraid to meet the eyes that burned at her skin. “I-It’s nothing!” She whimpered and Newt scoffed. “Nice try, ya buggin’ shank. I know you’re lying.”

Y/N could feel every piece of her body being divided apart. Half of it following what her heart said, which was to keep what she remembered a secret. Her head, on the other hand, told her the right thing to do was to tell him. “I-I can’t.” Her voice came as a high pitched squeak and her body began to shake. “What could be so bad that you won’t tell us?!” This time Newt’s voice shook the whole room, earning the attention of everyone. “Newt…” Thomas said softly, trying to calm his friend but the fury in the blondes eyes only grew stronger. Y/N was finally able to tear her arm from Newt and she shot up, jumping away as he reached out for it again. “J-Just wait for the memory swipe to be removed. It’ll be easier.” Y/N muttered and looked to Newt for just a fraction of a second, her bloodshot eyes full of hurt.

Everything that held him up inside crumbled away. She was the one thing that kept him fighting those last few months in the maze and she had just pushed him away as if he’d said something he could never take back. “Y/N - wait. I’m sorry!” His mind calmed and he tried to convince her to come back. She refused and climbed into her own bed across from his, facing her back to her friends. Thomas and Newt watched as Minho sat with her for a while, trying to convince her to say something. She stayed still as a corpse. The runner looked his friends with a discouraged glance full of dejection. Minho lightly put a hand on her legs and then stood up, leaving her to fight with the memories. “Just let her sleep.” Minho said to Newt as he jumped up to the bunk above, settling in for the night. Thomas gave him another sorry glance and headed over to the bunk above Y/N, saying an awkward goodnight to which she didn’t respond.

Newt didn’t sleep once. He just stared aimlessly at Y/N just a couple of metres away, an implacable guilt overriding his system. He’d never seen someone so broken, her body curled up tight trying to hide from the world. What she remembered that would cause her to act like this, he had no clue but wanted to know. Removing the swipe couldn’t come soon enough. His worst fear was that the two had a dark past which she’d never forgive him for. It seemed like days before a guard finally knocked on the door, opening it so light flooded in across the floor. Everyone woke suddenly in apprehension of what was about to happen.

The guard lead the group down the dark corridor just like yesterday, this time taking a couple of different turns. Around six rooms were illuminated, each with a door that had two of the gladers names written on them. The first was Thomas and Minho, the next Frypan and Winston, third… Y/N and Newt. The boy searched the group for Y/N and finally located her, hidden behind Minho. She met his eyes quickly and tried to fight the urge to look away. Newt pushed his way past his friends until he stood before the girl. “C’mon. Ours is this way.” He said softly, trying to numb the guilt that tore at his heart. She didn’t follow him. “Look. I don’t know what you remember, and I also have no clue why you’re treating me like this. If it has to do with me, I’m sorry, alright? But I can’t apologize for something I did if I can’t even remember it.”

Y/N nodded and ambled behind him towards their door. It swung open and a cold gust of air tossed their hair back. Inside, two nurses showed them the way to their beds and laid them down. Above was a mask, wires shooting out in every direction. Uncertainty swelled in both of their hearts but they knew it had to be done. As the machines lowered towards their faces, Newt took one last glance at the girl beside him, afraid he’d never see her again. All he could hope for was some answers. But he knew how dangerous of a thing hope was, how corrosive it could be if misplaced.

Everything came so fast. He could remember the snowy day which his parents were killed, their death simply disregarded as an accident. He recalled his sister, Lizzy, and the first day in the W.I.C.K.E.D. compound. Then, he remembered her. The familiar Y/E/C eyes and wide smile which welcomed him, easing his aching heart from the events that had just unfolded in his life. He remembered growing up with her. Late nights spent working on assignments, racing down the halls, all the way up until the night they were separated and he was thrown in the maze. And the worst of all, he remembered the last thing he said to her. “If you ever come to the maze and by some chance remember me… don’t tell me because I know I won’t believe you.” A phrase which he knew was full of truth, but he still regretted it.

He woke abruptly, craning his neck to the side to see Y/N. But she wasn’t there. The room was empty and completely silent, the door behind him wide open. A little disorientated, Newt struggled to keep his balance as he entered the hall, scanning it up and down looking for his friends. All of their rooms were dark and the doors were shut. He stepped out into the dimly lit hall cautiously, lights flickering due to what he assumed was a storm outside. Then, a voice met his ears that made his heart nearly explode, all of the air leaving his lungs. “Newt?” She asked, trying to clear her foggy vision so she could confirm who the tall silhouette belonged to. “Y-Yeah. Y/N?” He asked, completely dazed even though he already knew his answer. “Yeah.” She muttered back. Time seemed to freeze and Newt was unable to force his body to move.

He could feel the ache in her heart when a light flickered on that illuminated her eyes. He could feel her heaving through her corrupt lungs and how her heart beat with an overbearing disillusionment because of all the time she’d spent lying to him. “I’m so sorry.” Were the only words he could muster. He was ashamed for what he had done, what he had told her to do. He didn’t have any excuses for what he asked of her and took full responsibility for it, regardless of how much he wished he didn’t have to. He made her live a nightmare everyday, forcing her to try and convince herself that the memories they shared were just imagination. Y/N stared at him blankly, just as he did the day she arrived. Newt wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive him. How could she be willing to forgive him after so many days in the glade, forced to keep this secret inside of her. He could feel his body begin to shake with fear when she didn’t respond, almost as if her mind had been taken away.

Or, maybe she just didn’t have anything else left to say to him. “Y/N please.” His voice caught and he began to step towards the girl down the hall but she stepped back an equal distance. “Y/N… I-I remember. It’s ok.” Newt could feel the tears threatening to torrent from his eyes, but he did everything to hold them back. He now knew why she was so distant in the maze and it pained him. He caused her to be like this. “How do I know you remember?” She seethed and Newt froze. “I-I made you promise me something the night they took me.” The boy held his hands out calmly towards the girl as he approached slowly. “What was it?” She refused to let him get any closer. “That if you ever got sent into the maze and remembered me that you wouldn’t tell. No matter what because I knew I wouldn’t believe you.” Y/N was still unsure, not willing to believe that he actually remembered.

Hesitantly, Newt pulled a old and worn piece of paper from his pocket. As he unfolded it, a drawing of a tree appeared and in that moment Y/N knew he wasn’t lying. “You also gave this to me before I went up in the maze. I’ve kept it all three years, always wondering where it had come from. You drew this, didn’t you?” Y/N reached out and took it from the boy. She could recognize one of her drawings anywhere without question, nodding to him with confirmation. Quickly she shoved it back into Newts hands and he put it back into his pocket. “I promise I remember.” He sounded softly, now stepping closer to her. “A-And I understand if you never want to talk to me ever again…” Newt’s voice trailed off, hesitating to speak. “But if you don’t, it’ll bloody destroy me. You’re all I have Y/N and I know I’m all you have too.” Both of their families were dead and although they had other friends like Thomas and Minho, they had no real home. The closest they could ever get to one was each other.

“The late nights, the races… the hugs.” He giggled slightly at the mention and tears welled in his eyes. “Don’t let that go. Please.” Darkness crashed all around her and fell alongside everything she knew. Because of this cruel, cruel trick the creators had made her endure she was afraid to even speak to him. “I-I know what I told you that night. But it’s alright now, love.” He was now just a couple of feet from her. The girls entire conscience fought her. Every waking hour in the maze was spent making sure she didn’t say anything related to the memories… spent avoiding him. Her throat burned as she tried to force out words of any kind. With her eyes shut tight, Newt closed the distance between them and held her tight. Her body jolted with shock, tensing from his touch. But it was different this time. The usual pain which seeped into her skin wherever he touched wasn’t there, now replaced by a sense of comfort.

For a moment she hesitated, but then wrapped her arms around him. “Y-You do remember.” She said more so to make sure the truth sunk into her mind. No longer did she have to hide. A warm breath left Y/N’s lungs, a breath she felt like she was holding ever since the moment he was taken away. Doors at the end of the hall violently swung open and filled the hall with light. Newt jumped back, still holding onto the girl nervously. “Dinners this way you shanks!” Minho yelled out. Thomas stood beside him and sent the pair a soft smile, relieved to know that Newt finally remember. The promise he made to himself was fulfilled. The two kids started down the hall and Newt refused to let her go, afraid to let her drift any more than an arms length away. “I’d suggest we race, but I can’t say that would be a fair match anymore.” He admitted with a soft laugh. Y/N lightly smile up at him and Newt pressed a kiss against her head. All the boy could hope for in the moment was that when they woke, maybe the world would be figured out. Although he doubted it, he had Y/N once again and that was all that mattered to him.

The First Time

Sakura understood why it took Sasuke so long to come home. At that point, they could immediately point to any direction and head that way without worrying about a set schedule. That was the taste of freedom that they both could enjoy together.

They silently walked together while the nightfall slowly descended upon them. They headed south - away from the small town by the sea and into a new direction this time. The weather was favorable to sleep outside, so they didn’t feel compelled to set up camp immediately. Keeping to herself, she could not help but steal glances at him as they walked. She could feel her face slightly burning at the mere sight of him in front of her.

By the time they stopped walking, they unanimously picked a camping spot by a river stream, while they could only see each other’s outline in the darkness. Despite hiding his left eye behind copious amounts of hair, it still emitted a faint ominous dark purple glow.

Sasuke’s eyes were now well adjusted to the darkness to the point that he had a good spatial awareness around him. Even though he knew exactly where his travel companion was standing, he could not make out what her facial expression was. He figured she was tired - but she never uttered a word of complaint.

The night was not cold enough to cause discomfort, but a fire was a nice idea either way. Sakura set her belongings by a tree and then she gathered some dry leaves, branches and some other flammable materials for their campfire. Looking up, she searched for Sasuke in the darkness and she could not find him immediately - he was probably giving the area a quick scout. She touched the ground with her fingertips and she could only detect him in the vicinity. Once she sensed that he was returning, she called out, “Sasuke, it’s ready for the fire please,” she chuckled happily.

He pointed his head where he heard her calling from. “Ah right,” he replied smirking - he knew well what she was referencing to. Back in the day during the chunin exams, he was busy pestering Naruto when she called out for him to light up the campfire. It seemed like an eternity had passed between now and then, and there were several things that hadn’t changed about him. It was still funny to pester Naruto, while he never thought it through that he did have a sense of duty and protection towards her. Now that he had traveled alone and his mind was cleared of everything that had plagued him for years, it was much more obvious who his priority was now.

Two weeks after the beginning of their mission, they reached southernmost tip of the continent and decided to head west towards the Land of Fire. They weren’t in a rush to go anywhere in particular until the week they were supposed to resume their mission. At their fastest pace, a couple of days’ worth of travel was comparable to a week at a slower pace.

Despite being so comfortable with each other’s presence, in public, they refrained from holding hands and being acknowledged as a couple. They never truly discussed it, and they never had to since their mutual understanding went beyond words. They preferred it that way since it was their form of avoiding unwelcome attention. Sasuke was extremely private about his feelings and Sakura respected it.

He always practiced in the morning and afternoon while Sakura supported him with extra chakra. By then she had grown accustomed with the great exertion and she would rarely faint. Interestingly enough, helping him also allowed her to increase her chakra expenditure she had lost over long hours on paperwork at the hospital.

One morning after their daily routine, Sasuke finally understood why he had been stuck for a long time in one dimension where it was completely dark. All he knew so far was that there were six dimensions where Kaguya had easily shifted during the war, and the main dimension allowed Sasuke to reach the other five using less chakra. His mistake was trying to reach one of the other five dimensions without going through the main one, and his overconfidence once again got the best of him. He had incorrectly performed the technique just before his eyes once again needed recharging, and in the end, his body wasn’t in either place.

By repeatedly opening portals to all six dimensions, he was able to understand which ones required more chakra and which ones required less. Trying to categorize them by name, the best names he could come up with were physical characteristics of each apart from the main connecting dimension: Lava, Ice, Sand, Gravity, and Acid.

He had been in almost all of them during the war, but he didn’t dare to venture in the acid dimension. What could live and survive there anyway? He had seen the results of it on Sakura’s arm - the second-degree chemical burn she experienced instantly darkened her skin. Sasuke thought out loud while grabbing his chin, “Would there be more out there apart from these six?”

“Huh?” Sakura was preparing miso soup for lunch and was surprised at his calm remark. She knew that he was trying to make sense of how useful this technique could be and it was important that he was taking everything one step at a time.

“Nothing,” Sasuke dismissed his own thoughts while bringing his attention back to Sakura. “You should put those tomatoes in that,” he said while pointing to the neat pile of fruits and vegetables that they had placed in their campsite.

She hesitated to answer him at first, she was unsure of how it would taste. Adding tomatoes to the soup could potentially ruin it, but on the bright side, she would be adding a healthy ingredient in. She was a doctor after all… and naturally, she had to defend healthy eating.

“Alright,” she bit her lip trying to hold back her laugh while trying to shield her face with her hair. She reached to the pile of fruits and vegetables they had earned a few days before after helping some villagers, and she was surprised when Sasuke only picked tomatoes when there were lots of other options…

After inspecting all of the tomatoes she noticed some of them had begun to go bad but were still edible for the most part. “Too bad the rest of these tomatoes went bad, they are extremely soft now. I think we might have to get rid of them,” she grabbed one and poked the side of it. She selected a couple of tomatoes who only needed to be slightly cleaned and she cut it in small pieces while leaving the refuse aside. “Do you want me to add the tomatoes before or after I pull it out of the fire?”

“After please,” he replied without thinking twice. “Keeps the flavor.”

Once she pulled the soup pot off the fire, she added the tomato pieces into the miso soup and handed him a bowl. She decided to give his invention a try while she served herself one as well…it could taste good after all.

He was halfway done his soup by the time he noticed that she had just begun to take the first sip. He knew that she didn’t seem too excited about the odd addition to the lunch, but either way, it was for his sake. He noticed that she seemed to have no problem drinking the soup since it was out of a makeshift bowl. The only problem was how was she going to eat the tomatoes pieces left behind since miso soup was eaten without spoons anyway.

Sakura tried to tilt the bowl towards her face and the tomatoes never budged from their spot. “Come on,” she said with a hint of frustration in her voice. She knew he was watching her reaction from the corner of his eye, and she was beginning to feel impatient with her unsuccessful attempt. She tried giving the bowl one last hit in the back when the tomatoes flopped all over her face.

She picked the tomatoes off her face, but she couldn’t feel annoyed in the least bit once Sasuke began laughing beside her. He wasn’t exactly laughing at her, he was laughing because he was just simply happy.

Grabbing a tomato off the pile they were bringing with them, Sakura stared at it with a mischievous look on her face before she squished it in her hands. “SHANNAROOOO,” she tossed it towards Sasuke who was still busy laughing.

With his guard completely down, the tomato hit Sasuke on the side of the head and Sakura began to giggle immediately. He wasn’t sure what she had tossed at him at first, but once he brought his hand to touch his head he felt a wet glob slowly slide down his head. Stunned, he felt the whole thing begin dripping off his head before he grabbed it and finally realized what she had thrown at him. In revenge, he threw the destroyed tomato back at her. If she wanted a war, she got herself one.

“No!” noticing the incoming attack, she ran behind a tree while she could still observe his reaction. Meanwhile, Sasuke calmly took the chance to wash the tomato off his hair before he took the chance to grab extra ammunition. His hand was big enough to hold a few tomatoes at a time, and if he protected the perimeter around the ammunition, he could have much more at his disposal.

He got up and slowly began to walk towards where she had run off. Seeing that he was closing in made her giggle while almost missing her steps as she ran away. He tried to seize the opportunity by attacking her while she ran away.

“Come back here,” he tried to sound innocent while he activated his Sharingan as soon as she dodged one of the projectiles aimed at her.

“No cheating,” she yelled out laughing the moment she noticed he was very serious about getting a solid hit on her. She wasn’t going to make it any easier for him by allowing him to use his Sharingan - she hated losing as much as everyone else. She could tell that the way he was trying to pursue her also protected the camp’s perimeter…she would have to be really smart about sneaking back to grab more ammunition.

The wooded area allowed their game to go on for a while, while she made herself undetectable before she chose a spot to hide in. She could feel his presence at first until she noticed that he had also made himself undetectable. She brought her hands up to her lips, trying to hold her breath and laughter in. She knew she was going to get showered in tomato juice if he found her.

Once she regained her composure, she tried to sharpen her senses to feel any alterations in the environment around her. The wind blew softly around her but she noticed nothing different. She brought her ear against the ground and she could feel faint steps that were almost undetectable approaching her. She could not afford to come out of her spot - Sasuke was at a great advantage.

Sasuke knew she had run off in a certain direction before she hid her chakra signature. He did the same in response, hoping that she would surrender. He walked slowly while he scanned all of his surroundings. He was the predator, she was the prey.

Stepping very carefully out of her hiding spot, Sakura began to circle back to the camp, while making sure that it was safe to do so. With each step, she made sure she avoided any dry leaves or fallen branches - it would definitely give her position away. When she was almost at the camp perimeter, she noticed that she had stepped over a thin line that was barely visible to the naked eye. She wasn’t expecting him to have set any traps around, but the thin line was definitely going to give her position away. “Damn,” she swore under her breath.

She felt his chakra signature flare up the moment she set her foot back down. He was coming back fast, and she had to react accordingly.

He knew exactly where she was. He had put down some traps around the camp that would warn him the moment she tried to head back. It was just a waiting game for him. When he reached the spot where she had stepped on his trap, he noticed her gathering speed to make her escape.

Trying to predict her direction without the Sharingan, he aimed and tossed a tomato just ahead of her and right after he gestured a jutsu with his free hand. She would definitely have to make a choice whether to go left or right.

Sakura sensed that he had thrown something in her direction. Half turning around, she noticed the tomato projectile just before it struck her. She reached out and grabbed it, tossing it back at him immediately, when she noticed that a second tomato was hidden right behind the first one. Her body was in an awkward position midair and she didn’t have any time to react, she placed her arms defensively around her face seconds before she got hit.

He was not expecting her to escape his double tomato jutsu so fast since he wanted to hit her at least one more time. He grinned with satisfaction when at least half of his plan worked when she disappeared in a cloud of smoke and a log appeared instead.

At once, she reappeared right behind him and she tried to tackle to get the last tomato out of him. The momentum of her attack and his surprise made them both awkwardly crash against each other where they rolled a few meters down a hill. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her to shield her from the ground.

Still holding her protectively, he ended up with his back against the bare ground once they stopped rolling. Stunned and trying to understand what had just happened, they both laughed in unison until they were out of breath. The laughter and the physical closeness gave way to something much deeper that they had been harboring for each other.

Her cheek was still against his chest when she propped herself up to look at him. There was a wolflike sharpness behind his eyes this time - it was something that they could no longer hold from each other. He had noticed her way before they left the village, how she walked and moved a certain way. When she walked by him, a soft scent would linger. He knew he couldn’t mix his personal feelings with the mission, but once that was put on hold, the dynamic between them did change. It was just…her…there with him…and not a single worry in the world.

He had to push his building anxiety away while letting his instincts take over when he gently rolled her off of him and laid his body against hers. Kiss me, she thought tilting her chin up with anticipation while all she could hear was his shallow breath. Their lips met immediately with a passion and intensity they had never experienced before, while her hands clutched his hair keeping him locked against her.

She enjoyed feeling his weight against her, while a shiver ran through her body and settled at her core. Her hands hungered for more and she pried his shirt off in one movement, while he broke the kiss and buried his face in her hair with a low growl in his throat. His eyes were shut tight while all his senses were heightened. The soft scent that came off her hair and skin was slowly driving him to the edge.

He could no longer hold back and he began to unbutton her dress in response. Three buttons stood just below her collarbone and were pried open easily. Once her dress came off, she shrugged it off while she continued kissing him. Slowly, he unfastened the bindings that eventually rolled off her body. At no moment she showed any hesitation or anxiety for that moment…she had made up her mind long ago. His hands became acquainted with the curves of her body…and at each spot he touched, her reaction was different.

She lightly nipped his shoulder before she took the initiative to remove the rest of his clothes. As she slowly helped him off his clothes, she would touch a different spot, kiss a different place. Her tongue trailed on his defined abdomen and his chest, and back to his neck.

The small break from each other wasn’t enough to wane their desire. In a natural reflex, her legs wrapped around him with a rhythm of its own while it encouraged him even more.

For a few seconds he stared at her and she looked back at him. They were going to take a big step in their lives at that moment. It wasn’t just the act itself - it also meant their future together. He held no desire to be with anyone else but her.

He once again buried his face in her hair and gave her neck a soft kiss when he began lowering himself on her. The initial pain made a soft gasp escape her lips, while she ran her fingers through his hair - clasping it tightly. He held himself still while he waited for her body’s response. It took all of his will to do so before he continued moving again.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, kneading her smooth skin under his touch. She quivered under him and arched her back in response, while pressed into him. Her nails began to dig in his back and make red patterns on his skin. With his mouth, he began to explore her body. From her neck, he slowly went down, nipping and kissing along the way, while he felt amused at her reaction. Of all the things they had done so far, this seemed to make her the shiest. She bit the back of her hand and had her eyes shut tight, while he continued to tease her. The only sound that came from her mouth was her shaky breath.

The first beads of sweat began to gather on the sides of his temple and lower back while he maintained a steady pattern. His lips trailed on the side of her neck until he found her earlobe. The tickling sensation was mixed with one of pleasure. In response, she shut her eyes and the steady build-up made her body stiffer and stiffer until she could no longer hold on to reality, letting herself go. He could feel her body squeezing around him for several waves before she froze completely. Her reaction took him by surprise which he could no longer hold the pent-up pressure and energy within. He increased his momentum for one last time before his body began to tingle, his muscles contracted and his mind went numb.

She was still immobile under him, when he reached up and grazed his fingertips against the side of her lips, cheek and her forehead. She lightly moaned in response, and a small smile escaped his lips before he rolled off of her and dozed off.

It was mid-afternoon when Sakura woke up with Sasuke’s prying kisses against her neck. When she opened her eyes, she noticed he had covered her with his travel cape. She turned around and through her half-closed lids, she saw a serious look on his face. A pleasurable spasm ran through her pelvis and she surrendered herself to him again.

The sun was just beginning to set when he covered her shoulders with his travel cloak and they walked back to their camp. They both desperately needed to get cleaned up -

By the time they reached their camp, the fire had already gone out and only red glowing embers could be seen amongst the grey dust. Sakura didn’t feel as awkward being around him while being naked when her mind brought her vivid flashbacks of that afternoon…

The cold water from the river soon brought her an uncomfortable shiver forcing her to get out of the water.

Farther off from their camp, Sasuke had gone ahead and washed off quickly as well. The water was too cold for a long soak and he didn’t want to wait long enough to get accustomed to the temperature. Stepping out of the water, he dried himself quickly and got dressed before he glanced back towards the camp and saw Sakura grinning about something. He wondered what that was all about, but in a way, he felt as if he knew the answer.



Summary: when they’re spotted by stormtroopers on Jedha, Jyn and Cassian need to come up with a plan quick for baenakinskywalker

Pairing: RebelCaptain

Word Count: 605


Jyn saw them first. They were both sweeping the streets, making sure that they didn’t attract any unwelcome attention. She saw the stormtroopers take one step towards them out of the corner of her eye and didn’t hesitate before pulling Cassian into a narrow alley.

“What are-”

“We’ve been spotted,” Jyn warned him.

She quickly calculated the distance between the alley and the troopers, and how long it would take them to get across the street. They didn’t have much longer. She looked up at Cassian and saw his hand twitch towards his hidden blaster. Catching it with hers, she shook her head once before surging up to press her lips to his.

Keep reading

Stupid Dream - LadyNoir one-shot -

She’ll blame it on that stupid dream.  That stupid, stupid dream.  How she folded into him with their lips molding and breaths heavy.  At first, she didn’t know who it was she was kissing.  The mysteries of dreaming simply led her mind to kissing someone.  And oh, how quickly she had lost herself in him.  Her body buzzing and her mind numb.  It wasn’t until she pulled away that she noticed who those lips belonged to.  Green eyes under a black mask stared at her, half-lidded with a blissful grin.  

“Cat got your tongue?” he had asked her.  It was then that she began to realize it was a dream.  Because she was perfectly fine with kissing Chat Noir then.  She was perfectly fine laying with her crime-fighting, pun-making, cat-ear-wearing partner.  And even worse? She liked the pun.  

Ever since then, that dream has been haunting her memories.  Tapping on the door of her thoughts and creeping into her desires.  She wasn’t suppose to like him!  Not Chat.  Nope.  But that stupid, idiotic dream.  She loathes that dream.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Alya hissed in her ear.  Marinette snapped to attention, realizing where she was.  Stupid school, she thought bitterly, stupid dream.  Stupid Chat.  “Hello?” Alya reached over and waved her hand in front of her friend’s face.

Marinette blinked, glancing at her friend over her hand squishing her cheek.  “Sorry, Alya,” she sighed, “I just had the weirdest dream and I’m having trouble forgetting it.”

“What?” Alya scooted closer, grinning mischievously.  “It wouldn’t have to do with a certain someone, would it?” she asked.

Marinette’s face lit up like fire, “Wh-what!?  No-no-no-no it was not, Alya!” she squealed, earning a strict look from the teacher.  Hunching downwards at the sudden attention, Marinette mumbled out an apology.  

Alya continued looking at Marinette through a smug expression.  “Oh you’re so lying, girl!” she said quietly while poking Marinette’s arm.  “You had a hot dream about—“ she cuts off before finishing and just mouths, “Adrien” while pointing the the boy in front of them.  Sitting innocently.


No that dream was not with Adrien.  Because that dream was anything but innocent.  Chat was anything but innocent.  

Slapping Alya’s hand down, Marinette glared at her, “Alya, I swear it wasn’t!” she seethed through her teeth, feeling the eyes of the classroom on her still.  She know they couldn’t hear their conversation, but she didn’t like the unwelcomed attention.  “Besides,” she said, finding herself coming up with a smooth alibi.  “If I dreamed about Adrien, I’d be pretty happy about it, wouldn’t I?  Twitterpated, even…” she mumbled under her breath.

Alya nodded, looking back towards the board in the front of the class.  “Yeah, I guess so, huh?  You’re just… broody.”  

Marinette only grunted in response, glad her friend was off her back.  But her relief halted when she remembered the upcoming patrol tonight.  She subconsciously put her hand in her bag, feeling Tikki gently hug it.

She hadn’t spoken to him.  She just nodded, blinked, or somehow signaled a response to him.  She had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that’d be unrealistic.  Chat was observant; he’d always been observant.  

“Something eating at you, M’Lady?” He asked her, leaning forwards to cat her eye.  She averted her gaze.  He frowned.  “Ladybug?” he spoked with worried lips.

Lips, she thought, furrowing her brow and scoffing.

“I’m fine, Chat.” There.  She spoke.  Done.  She didn’t die.

“You’re not saying much, LB,” he stood up straight, “And you haven’t looked at me…”  His tone grew desperate, “I haven’t done anything, have I?  I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“You can’t apologize for something if you don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” she said, crossing her arms and looking out over the city.  Her tone was sour.  She was sour.  And he didn’t deserve it, she knew that much.  “I’m sorry,” she sighed, “I’ve just got something on my mind.”

“I’m a good listener,” he said happily, “I’ve got two sets of ears, after all.”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head, “I don’t think talking will help,” she said breathily.  Not with you, anyway, she added silently.

“Why not?” he asked, “I find talking paw-sitively meow-velous.”

Puns… she could feel her face light up.  Although she was sure her masked covered it, she could still feel it.  Creeping onto her cheeks.

“I’m claw-ful at advice, but I’d love to listen,” he added, and she could hear the grin in his words.  Stop, she thought desperately, feeling her blush grow.

Furr-real, Ladybug, I’m being litter-al.”


“Just talk it meow-t.”


“What, cat got your tongue?”

And that was it.

Her face exploded in pink, and if her suit wasn’t covering everything, she could’ve been considered a glow-stick.  She could feel her toes light up!  Because, yes.  Yes, the cat did have her tongue, and now she couldn’t think about anything else!

“You…” she growled, turning towards him and grabbing his collar forcefully.  She yanked him towards her, their noses barely touching as she looked at him.  Finally looked at him.  She could see the color drain from his face as panicked eyes flickered into hers.  

Don’t do it, she thought, Don’t.  Do.  It.  

But she did.  She leaned into him, her mouth parting ever-so-slightly.  And unlike her forceful yank at his collar, she slowly, gently, tentatively placed her lips on his.  Her eyes looking into his before they fluttered close.  And for a moment, they were still.  As if time froze and neither could move.  Lips barely touching, hearts barely beating, lungs barely breathing.

He was the first to move.  His hand crept up to cup her cheek as he tilted and moved carefully.  She could hear him sharply inhale before leading her with his lips into something she’d never done.

Her brain short-circuited at that thought.  She may have been kissing in her dream, but this was not a dream.  She’d never kissed.  Not even a peck!  And here she is.  Clumsily following her partner’s slow lead.  She momentarily panicked, freezing up when his mouth opened just a sliver and then closed on her upper-lip.  Chat, her eyes snapped open, this was Chat!

Truthfully, she expected his eyes to be closed like hers.  To be lost in the moment like she had been in that dream.  But his eyes were open, half-lidded with a blissful gleam.  Deja vu, her heart fluttered and she didn’t pull away.

He leaned into her more, moving his lips and leaving her to frantically follow.  His eyes finally closed and he moved his other hand to hold her waist.  Carefully pulling her closer.  This, she realized, is beginning to feel familiar.  Letting her eyelids fall, she grew more confident.  Within the few moments she’d been kissing him, he’d lead her.  Showed her.  Without question.  And although she was questioning herself, she put it aside and stepped forward, breathing in.  Breathing out.  Leaning into him.  Molding into him.

And then it was over and they leaned away.  Like an open-ended movie, her brained raced to catch up.  What now? she thought.

“I…” Chat whispered lowly, his eyes still closed.  Opening them, he looked at her.  “Why?” he asked, his brow lowering in confusion.

Ladybug sighed.  She didn’t know why!  She just did.  She was impulsive.  “I don’t know…” she mumbled, looking to the ground.  “I just—I’m just a bit…” she searched her brain for words but couldn’t find anything.

“Confused?” He offered, letting his hands fall from her.  She expected to see hurt in his eyes, but she didn’t.  “I know the feeling,” he said honestly.

“Heh,” she scoffed, hugging herself.  “Yeah.  Confused.  It’s… strange to like someone you don’t really know.”  The words were out before she could catch them.  Before she knew she was thinking them.

“…Like?” He asked quietly.

Embarrassed, she grew defensive, “Well I did initiate that, didn’t I?” She said, wildly gesturing between them.  “Ugh!” she growled, grabbing her face and frowning.  “This is so dumb!  I don’t—I mean, I kinda—no, no, I definitely do not like you—“  she peaked through her hands to see his very confused, slightly hurt expression.

“Stupid dream,” she mumbled.

His eyes lit up while a mischievous grin spread across his face.  “Dream, M’Lady?” he waggled his eyebrows, “Did you dream about me?”

“N-no.” She lied.

Stupid dream.

Stupid Chat.

Stupid feelings.



Vital Statistics

Name:                         Lacie Solomon
                                    [leˈsɪ ˈsɑːləmən]                                     

Race:                          Human


Age:                            11 (Catastrophe)    
                                    19 (Vampire Reign)

Height:                        168 cm (5’5)

Weight:                        58 kg (127 lbs)

Birthday:                     March 14th (Pisces)

Blood Type:                AB

Professional Status  

                  Order of the Imperial
                                     Japanese Imperial            
                                     Demon Army        
                                     Shibuya Main Army

Rank:                           Private (former)     

Cursed Gear Series:  Enchanted Gear

Demon:                        None  

Personal Status:         Missing (Army)

Lacie Solomon is a member of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army. Serving under the Hiragi family on the back lines of the battlefield, his name is a variation of the French name ‘Lacey’, a nobleman’s surname that alternated into a first name over time. Although commonly used for females, there are circumstances in which a male is given the name Lacie. An interesting fact is that the name is an anagram for ‘Alice’ whereas Solomon is a Hebrew derived name meaning peace.  


Lacie was 11 years old when the apocalypse occurred. As a young boy, his clothes consist of a beige coat, a fuzzy hoodie, simple grey jeans and lastly, a white pair of sneakers. Lacie’s slate grey locks reach to his shoulder blades and are styled in a straight cut. He usually ties his hair up in a rose bun that his mother used to do. However, after the virus left him as an orphan, the boy acquired this skill over time himself.  

Vampire Reign: 

Lacie Solomon, a young man at the age of 19, styles his hair in a rather unique fashion. His bangs are uneven where the middle section is longer than the outer strands. Adding onto the asymmetrical look is a long section of hair on his right side whilst the remaining straight locks are cut short. One strand on each side of his hair is growing in a direction different from the rest of his hair, giving his hairstyle a slightly messy appearance. While being on the battlefield, he regularly tries to avoid having his vision blocked by his silky hair. Lacie braids it up into a rose bun on the side of his head whereas, on normal occasions, he prefers letting it fall naturally.

His trademark accessory is a three-pieced black string which he uses as a headband for braiding flowers into his hair, preferably deep blue forget-me-nots. But due to flowers wilting as soon as they are plucked, the type of flower changes frequently, depending on the flora of the area he is currently located in.

Lacie stands out with his alluring light slate grey hair, giving his mixed features an exotic look. He inherited his hair colour from his French father, as well as his golden, honey-coloured eyes while his facial features and overall structure lean towards his Japanese mother. Long grey lashes frame his vividly clear eyes and subtle pink lips adorn his face. Upon approaching him, most people get the impression of looking at an elegant woman instead of a young man.

Having a slim body with slightly wide hips, delicate features and a small form only add to the androgynous look this boy has inherited. His appearance deceives both humans and vampires alike until they engage in conversation. Fortunately, Lacie’s voice helps him steer clear of any misunderstandings for his voice isn’t high nor feminine enough to be mistaken for a girl’s.

While serving the Hiragi’s, Lacie wore the standard JIDA uniform. His main feature is a long-sleeved, black jacket with two rows of gold buttons on the front and green details on the sleeves below the belt. Light green shoulder epaulettes adorn his black jacket and he also wears a white web belt on his hips with a gold waist-plate. Unlike a majority of members, however, his gloves are black due to his main occupation requiring him to encounter blood on an everyday basis. His right arm sports a black armband which has white brimming’s and displays a light green cross in the middle; a clear indication of his rank. Covered by his left sleeve is a silken blue ribbon that ties fuda, more commonly known as paper charms (talismans), to his arm. Matching black pants and boots complete his overall look and two black belts are wrapped around his left leg, holding his weapon over. His boots are worn over his pants and white accents are visible on the seams. Two rows of double gold buttons decorate each boot and both possess a gold plate at the tip of the toes for protection.

After being separated from his squad, Lacie discards his uniform and wears an oversized rosé-coloured knitted cardigan which falls down his shoulders, the sleeves nearly fully his hands. He pairs this with a tight fitting greyish blue shirt, black latex pants and black ankle boots with a gold button on the outer side. The only possessions he kept from his uniform were his sheathed dagger (connected to two belts), black gloves and a simple blue ribbon along with his hairband. He also uses bandages to cover his neck.

Personality :

Lacie appears to be a quiet and collected person, a façade he had learnt due to his position as a medic. A moment of panic can decipher whether or not a patient lives or dies,  hence why he may appear emotionless to patients. An abundance of plentiful knowledge about the human body, wounds and treatments enable Lacie to stay calm on both the battlefield and sidelines. He does not sugar coat his words and always informs the patient, should their death be inevitable. And regardless of his innocent appearance, he talks rather bluntly, even if his words may come off as insensitive. This has gotten him into a lot of trouble during his life in the army, and his superiors describe him to have an attitude problem.

Despite serving the army, Lacie is not an active member of the attacking force for he resides within the backline as a medic. He treats injured soldiers, avoiding unwelcomed attention by enemies. Much to his displeasure, he must depend on his squad, for he lacks the capability to properly defend himself against unhuman forces. He frequently avoids talking in general, preferring to remain silent unless he has a proper reason to speak up. For example, a situation requiring this would be answering his squad leader.

Lacie’s collected attitude, however, is mostly just an act. His attempts to restrain his emotions can be easily thrown off by others,  especially those he doesn’t know. Verbal interaction other than the usual “where does it hurt?” or “understood, sir” and physical interaction that isn’t work-based is something he hasn’t accustomed to. Whenever Lacie is taken aback, his emotions tend to take over, making him act out accordingly from violently lashing out to a joyous outburst. And because of this, he prefers to not be touched without his permission.

When away from combat, the young man lets his thoughts wander off instead of interacting with his squad members. He often lingers his mind on anything that captures his interest and thus, prevents him from interacting in general.  Due to this, he can become inattentive to his surroundings and vulnerable to nearby enemies, be it scavenging humans, horsemen or vampire soldiers. Should something dare to intrigue him, the human sets a minor goal for himself. Lacie tends to develop a mild fascination towards the subject of his interest. This can often be seen during his training sessions which he associates with ballet training, or his undying love for flowers motivating him to combine the colourful petals with his daily attire.

His precious free time is spent further enhancing his dancing skills and keeping a  flexible physique. Other things that help him distract himself from the world’s perplexing state consist of anatomical study, stargazing and remaining composed. 

Lacie does not harbour any personal grudges against the vampiric race, though he is extremely cautious around them due to their blood thirsty nature. For the most part, he attempts to avoid engaging in any form of contact with them, the fear of getting his blood sucked causes him to become skittish when being in the presence of foreign beings. Lacie also dislikes infections and bacteria, though not to the point of developing a phobia of germs. He merely tries to avoid getting wounded or directly touching something filthy,  mainly with wearing his black gloves at all times.


Due to Lacie’s parents relocating their business, the humble family of three had moved from France to Japan. Shortly after arriving at the airport, however, the catastrophe broke out, creating a mass of panic in the cramped premises as adults everywhere had succumbed to the Apocalypse Virus. The little boy became separated from his family and was pushed around by the clutter, nearly getting trampled to death by the stampede. By pure luck, young Lacie was able to avoid this by seeking shelter beneath a bench, only to escape with a heavily bruised body. This incident caused the child to develop a trauma at his young age, planting a general discomfort of being around other humans.

After the initial panic had dispersed, a group of children dragged their whimpering forms with them in search for life. They were eventually discovered by a squad of the Hiragi fraction who were in search of survivors to add to their forces against the enemy.

There, he trained to become a soldier for the Hiragi family, studying hard to ensure his survival in the new, bitter era. However, it soon came to his supervisors’ attention that Lacie had little to no capability for teamwork and he lacked the talent to handle difficult weapons such as swords. The sheer training gave him little progress despite his efforts to physically keep up with his classmates. But upon the discovery of his flawless grades in biology and a higher than the average potential to use spells, Lacie was assigned to become a medic.

Training sessions consisted of a lot of theoretical learning with a minor focus on high-class weaponry. Instead, he dived deeper into the basic usage of medical work, illusion spells and self-defence with the aid of a dagger. His dagger is an enchanted weapon, designed to imitate Black Demon Series weapons without harbouring a demon inside. This gives him the ability to harm vampires, although a cut doesn’t affect them as much as a true demonic weapon would. Additionally, he does not have enhanced reflexes or strength which regularly comes with the demon series, making it rather difficult to defend himself should he ever get into a confrontation with an immortal.

On one of his earlier missions, Lacie’s squad was surprised by a hostile flock of deserters who had set their eyes on the group’s food rations. One of them managed to get ahold of Lacie, holding him by his hair and intending to use the young man as a hostage in exchange for the desired goods. Despite the warnings, Lacie managed to break free in a fit of panic, resulting in his hair to be cut in order to be freed. However, because of their inexperience in real combat and rational decision-making, the group became overwhelmed by the far more experienced criminals who managed to separate the weak formation of the squad. Lacie, who found himself in the midst of battle, delivering strikes until an unfortunate hit to his head caused the young medic to fall unconscious. When he succumbed to his senses, he was lying in a field of destruction, bodies sprawled across the rubble and blood painting the scenery red. His squad was wiped out entirely, their bodies lying lifeless next to the unknown faces of some fallen deserters.

Despite the bad shape he was in and the pain taking over his that staying in a bloody field was mind almost completely, Lacie knew the worst option he could take. The strong stench of blood would attract horsemen and vampires alike. He fled from the battlefield, walking until his legs gave out and hid in an abandoned building until he fully recovered from his wounds, his medical knowledge helping the young man to recover quickly. It dawned upon him that, should he even make it to his designed destination, the army would most likely take his heavy delay as a form of desertion and interrogate, as well as execute him right on the spot for a war-crime he hadn’t committed and thus, Lacie decided to try and survive out on his own and fully abandoned his connection to the army. Not having the ability to hunt down any wild animals for food in the area, he decided that his best chances of survival are staying on the move and looting the surrounding homes for any leftover canned food. This technique worked out surprisingly well for him, and the young man soon decided to change into a less noticeable attire with clothes he found in a destroyed mall. But due to his small stature and very little to choose from, the only fitting clothes were from the girl’s department, only making Lacie’s appearance even more deceiving. He now aimlessly wanders around the destroyed area of Osaka.


・His favourite food is peaches. He prefers the enjoying the treat without any combinations but is also fond of sweets such as peach cake, or peach-flavoured tea.

・He hides his fuda under his sleeve and uses a blue ribbon to keep them around his wrist for easy access. 

・When concentrating, he often tends to voice his thoughts, speaking to no one in particular. It is one of his habits.

・At times, he craves a demon of his own, however, he didn’t receive the training that is required to deal with one and would, ultimately, lose the mental battle.

Thanks to Scaly Bean, Lacus Welt, Mikaela, Deus, and Nhiko for inspiring me as well as coming up with ideas for his personality and appearance. And special thanks to Nhiko for proofreading. I love all of you!

A thought: Pidge isn’t going to stay a little bitty 14 year old forever. She’s going to get at least a little taller, and the boys all dread the day when Baby Sister realizes she’s catching a lot of eyes.

(Literally, in one case, when they visited a planet where the acceptable form of expressing attraction was to fling your spare eyeball at the object of your affection. Pidge caught two on reflex and Allura barely managed to talk the two aliens out of a duel to the death for Pidge’s hand in marriage)

Shiro is confident that Pidge can take care of herself, but he’s slightly worried that she is entirely too amused by a lot of this attention. But he resigns himself to playing the supportive dad/chaperone (“Please don’t flirt with that guard if you’re just going to rob him later, Pidge. You’ll mess up our reputation”. “LANCE WHAT DID I JUST TELL PIDGE. IT GOES DOUBLE FOR YOU.”)

Keith and Hunk and Lance, meanwhile, suddenly get super protective of Pidge. Oh, they know she’ll kick the butt of anyone who messes with her. She’ll probably wallop them so hard their ancestors will feel it. (“She did kill a man once, then radio his commanding officer while he was interrogating Shiro just to yell ‘You’re next!’”, Hunk points out, “Maybe we should be more worried about her demolishing whole garrisons?”) Lance’s reasoning behind his concern is just “The heart is a soft muscle, dude.”

He takes it upon himself to explain to the amused Pidge all the things he remembers about when his sisters were dating, including some interesting commentary on their past significant others. Pidge is quick to point out that the aliens they encounter really don’t fit human classifications of behavior and culture and Lance freaks out.

Hunk is very sweet and supportive. He knows Pidge doesn’t need their help.
But still, she has the unenviable position of being the Youngest Paladin, and thus everyone is a wee bit more protective of her (and of Lance, who I headcanon is the second youngest, but Lance hasn’t figured that out yet). Hunk will offer advice if asked, help Pidge with her hair, but mostly stay out of the way. But if you hurt her. Oh boy.

There was one plant-dragon-ish being that Pidge sort of liked on one mission. And they said something rather cruel to her. When she confronted them, they shoved her. And very quickly were greeted with a sight no one ever forgot: Hunk tackling the being, shouting “YOU’VE HAD IT, PAL!” and having to be dragged off by Allura.

Keith just kind of quietly hovers. If a being is paying unwelcome attention to Pidge, he waits until he can tell if Pidge will do anything or not, then sidles up and whispers “Should I kill them?”
They haven’t figured out if he’s serious or not yet.

bsidez  asked:

can we get a scenario with mirio on a first date!! I want over zealous (and embarrassing) mirio unknowingly soothing his dates' nerves with how excited he is to be out with them.

ahhhhHHHHHH he’s so damn CUTE that’s exactly what he would do

You’re nervous about your date with Mirio. You know you shouldn’t be, because you’ve been friends with him for years, but you’re still finding it hard to remain entirely calm. You’d had a crush on him for many of those years, as did a lot of other people, and you really want him to like you as more than a friend. The fact that he asked you out should be telling your overactive nerves that he does, but you still can’t help the doubt that forms at the back of your mind.

You take one last deep breath before you enter the restaurant you agreed to meet at, the bells above the door ringing and giving away your arrival. It’s a cute, casual place. A place you’d been with him many times before, just never alone and never on a date. You scan the crowd for Mirio’s familiar styled mess of blond hair, but come up empty. You don’t know if being there first makes you more or less nervous, but before you can decide it turns out that you’re not the first to show.

Keep reading

Sometimes it isn’t you at all, you’re just caught in the crossfire of some other thing. I was in a year-plus relationship and living with a fairly infamous trans woman game developer at a time when doing so might as well have painted a target on my chest. That brought a completely baffling amount of unwelcome attention, involving characters who clearly harbor some weird continuous boner for me – well after that relationship ended – that’s lasted for years now.

I also had a similar experience from a protest campaign, organized to shut down Harlot Media, a website I left a career in tech support to write for. Not only did they get most of our funding and ad revenue shut down, but there were attempts to get us blacklisted from the whole thinkpiece writing scene. That may sound funny to some people, but it’s like a band being kicked out of a music festival and then banned from the concept of music.

Even when people are clearly targeting you, their motivations are frequently a mystery shrouded in the anonymity they tend to adopt when doing so. Maybe they’re doing it because of a political belief. Maybe that person is a former romantic partner. Maybe it’s an ex-friend from drunker, rowdier times upset by “how you’ve changed” or whatever – someone punishing you for not maintaining the image they had in their head of you. You can drive yourself completely fucking bonkers trying to figure out what you did to “deserve” this.

Even scarier, it could be absolutely nothing at all. Sometimes these people have no investment in you whatsoever but just get off on making people on the internet upset for literally no reason. Think the crazy shooter guy from The Jerk: You’re both Nathan and the cans.

I’m A Victim Of Carpet-Bombing Online Harassment

Mercier x Betty  British Raj AU

Calcutta, 1902. The word ‘dance’ comes to mind, their own choreography of gazes exchanged across the room, brushes of hands and half-spoken confessions. They orbit around each other, destined never to collide it seems; Mercier is upper class, Betty is a governess. And he’s spying on the family whose children she swore to protect.
But in this foreign land of spices and silk, of golden gods and lush forests, where cultural norms clash and wane, even destinies must yield to desire.

Rating: Mature
Word count: 3.4k
Beta: @fadewithfury​ <3
You don’t need to have seen either show.

Tumblr   |   Ao3   |    This chapter on Ao3

3 | Meeting

Douglas Wigram grumbled as his pen kept slipping from his pudgy hand. Mercier peered at him over his two months-old Le Figaro (news travelled slowly to India).

“Something the matter, Wigram?”

“You French and your bloody paperwork.”

Mercier chuckled, he was starting to enjoy Wigram’s company— unfortunately. He went back to reading about the relations between president Émile Loubet and the new king, Edward VII.

“How long will it take?” Wigram asked.

“It depends on how fast you can write.”

“No, I mean, the payment.” He blotted his large, sunburnt forehead with an handkerchief.

“I don’t know, I am only in charge of diplomatic relations,” Mercier replied. He wanted to ask if he had financial troubles, but couldn’t do it so bluntly.

Lord Wigram wanted to rekindle his business relationship with the French, unaware that Mercier knew all about the people he’d defrauded in Bombay. If Douglas was experiencing money problems, he might be tempted to pull the same tricks he had back then. However, Mercier had yet to find concrete evidence of ill intentions.

Mercier turned the question of financial troubles in his mind to find a tactful formulation, but footsteps in the hall distracted him.

Keep reading

He distributed his message intelligently, careful to preach only to those receptive, never attracting unwelcome attention. But his growing movement could go unnoticed by the authorities for only so long. 

The highbloods were livid over the unprecedented heresy, and soon, a massive sectarian war followed, spreading across the planet and throughout the galaxy. The conflict was lopsided of course, with the Highbloods given full support from the Condesce and her sea dwellers.

Interestingly, the Condesce helped put down the Sufferer’s movement and yet her presumed descendant, Feferi, preached a similar set of ideals. Just one of the ways the paths of the ancestors sometimes contrast those of their kin.

multifandomcatastrophe  asked:

How do you think the student with the nickname Fae would do? Like, they had the name idea from a character they had created and didn't know about the fair folk (well, she knew the myths, but she didn't know Elsewhere), Bonus, she's a music major (french horn player) and dabbles in art and theatre. Bonus.2 she also works with sigils and witchcraft.

They don’t like it when you speak directly of them; a name like that would call some unwelcome attention even if they weren’t, in fact, being spoken of. It would put you under some fairly malevolent eyes right off the bat, and once you have their attention, it would be hard to leave it. Learn protection sigils immediately and be careful where you practice the horn.

anonymous asked:

I know that there are LOADS of these fics but they are my favourite. So is there any way you could do like a Hickey fic with Alex being angry but not really and then getting revenge

Winn had an absolute field day when he saw it.

‘Have a nice night last night?’

It hadn’t clicked at first. She had noticed it this morning, yes, but it hadn’t seemed that prominent. So, she wasn’t too fussed, didn’t dwell on it and, consequently, was initially oblivious to what he was getting at. ‘I had a nice night in with Maggie, yes.’

‘I bet it was a real nice night,’ Winn winked.

‘It was–.’ Shit, was it really that noticeable? Instinctively she went to cover it with her hand, something that made Winn laugh.

‘On man, I didn’t know there was another one!’

Her cheeks were burning as she dashed off to the bathroom, to look at her neck in the mirror. Sure enough, there was another hickey and this one was painfully noticeable…and in exactly the same spot that Maggie had been nipping at this morning as she had examined the other one.

Damn it Sawyer.

Winn was easily shut up – ‘at least I have a sex life, Schott’ – and, thankfully, no one else had the balls to say anything about it, at least not to her face, so work wasn’t too bad. Stopping off by the store to pick up some groceries and being judged by the eighteen year old clerk who kept staring at her neck? Now that made her wish the ground would open up and swallow her.

The only thing that kept her going was the prospect of revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge.

‘Hey–. Whoa,’ Maggie grinned as Alex made straddling her on the couch the first thing she done when she came home that evening. ‘Someone is in a good mood.’

‘You’re a cop, right?’

‘Is that a trick question?’

‘Yes or no, Maggie.’


Alex nodded. ‘Therefore, you believe in justice?’

‘That’s kinda the whole point?’

‘Then I present to you, a case. Exhibit A,’ Alex pointed to the lighter of the two hickeys. ‘Was inflicted on me last night. Let me make it clear to you, detective that Exhibit A does not bother me. I will not be seeking to press charges on account of it.’

Maggie laughed. ‘I see where this is going.’

‘Of course you see, it’s incredibly hard not to see it,’ Alex muttered before pointing to it anyway. ‘Exhibit B – this particular hickey was inflicted on me this morning and made me the unwelcome focus of attention on many, many occasions. I would like some form of retribution or the accused will not be allowed to watch her stupid zombie show tonight, at least not in peace.’

‘You present a solid case.’

‘Do you accept the terms or not?’

‘I’m confused, am I the detective, the accused or the jury?’ Maggie smirked.

‘All three, and stop deviating. Do you accept?’

Maggie nodded, eagerly shifting her body ever so slightly so that her neck was more accessible. ‘I accept.’

I Get Knocked Down (But I Get Up Again)

For @kiriei​ who send me a great list of beach prompts, so this happened. 


“You sure you’re ok?” the blond asks, and Bucky really appreciates the fact that the guy isn’t laughing, considering his friend can’t seem to help snickering at Sam’s outrageous display.

“I’m fine,” Bucky huffs with a smirk. “Pride’s a little bruised, and I’m guessing I look like a fuckin’ drowned rat, but no permanent damage.”

A slow- and frankly, evil- smile makes its way across the blond’s lips. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in those blue eyes, but it’s replaced with a nearly-predatory look that gives Bucky goosebumps.

“Shame,” the other man teases Bucky. “I’m pretty good at kissin’ things better.”

In which Bucky Barnes is a show off at the beach and pays the price.

You can also read the fic here.

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anonymous asked:

"Stay with me tonight." Bruce Wayne

It was a simple confession said against the bare flesh of Selina’s shoulder.   She felt him before he even approached her from behind.  Selina was running into Bruce Wayne often.  They were attending similar formal functions, and it was aggravating to Selina.  She could see the desire behind his eyes whenever his eyes set on her.  It never failed.  Now, his attention wasn’t unwelcome.  In fact, stealing the attention of a billionaire had it’s perks.  But she wasn’t interested in bedding him.  

Red fingertips stroked at the neck of her champagne glass.  She looked Bruce over.  Tall, dark, and handsome.  Black curls slicked back with the brightest of blue eyes.  An Armani suit complete with diamond encrusted cuff links.  She took a step forward and fingered at his tie.  

“Mr. Wayne,” she began, “you don’t know what you want.”

“I do, Selina.  One date with me.”  Bruce caught her wrist in a single motion and pressed warm lips against the palm of her hand.

“It would be my honor,” he added.  “And please, call me Bruce.”

“Bruce,” she corrected.  Hands searched him.  Selina outlined his tuxedo with her hands, igniting the chemistry between them.  Selina leaned in, pressing herself against him.  She felt the heat as Bruce’s head lowered.  He kissed her gently against her forehead.

Sensing submission, Selina snaked her hands through his suit without difficulty. There was no disappointment in his build.  He was ripped underneath all the layers.  Suddenly the prospect of a date didn’t seem so dismal. She pulled him in closer.  .  

“One date, but only because I like you.”  


The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls
Paperback Edition - $16.99 (Prime Eligible)
Date: 8/4/17

Two young women, living centuries apart, both accused of madness, communicate across time to fight a common enemy…their doctors.

“It was the dog who found me.”

Such is the stark confession launching the harrowing scene that begins The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls as Emilie Autumn, a young musician on the verge of a bright career, attempts suicide by overdosing on the antipsychotics prescribed to treat her bipolar disorder. Upon being discovered, Emilie is revived and immediately incarcerated in a maximum-security psych ward, despite her protestations that she is not crazy, and can provide valid reasons for her actions if someone would only listen. Treated as a criminal, heavily medicated, and stripped of all freedoms, Emilie is denied communication with the outside world, and falls prey to the unwelcome attentions of Dr. Sharp, head of the hospital’s psychiatry department. As Dr. Sharp grows more predatory by the day, Emilie begins a secret diary to document her terrifying experience, and to maintain her sanity in this environment that could surely drive anyone mad. But when Emilie opens her notebook to find a desperate letter from a young woman imprisoned within an insane asylum in Victorian England, and bearing her own name and description, a portal to another world is blasted wide open. As these letters from the past continue to appear, Emilie escapes further into this mysterious alternate reality where sisterhoods are formed, romance between female inmates blossoms, striped wallpaper writhes with ghosts, and highly intellectual rats talk. But is it real? Or is Emilie truly as mad as she is constantly told she is? The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls blurs harsh reality and magical historical fantasy whilst issuing a scathing critique of society’s treatment of women and the mental health care industry’s treatment of its patients, showing in the process that little has changed throughout the ages. Welcome to the Asylum. Are you committed?