#Also she's leaning forward with her heels up in the first pic and would definitely eat shit if she actually rode like that

[quezycoatl]

the equestrian in ME says riding western in a snaffle is perfectly good and valid, and nose bands are good for western horses too because they prevent your horse from breaking his jaw if the rein gets caught on something and pulls his mouth.

In fact, that looks a bit more like a bitless bridle, and they're perfectly valid too, especially if you can ride with your seat and your legs instead of yanking his mouth around.

A++ art, bro! don't let the weird western purists get to you

Applejack (human) and Applejack (horse) studies.

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if���” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend and I don't know if you're ready dive back into RNM yet or want to wait till 911 is over but the first trailer for S4 has come out and I figured I'd give you a quick guide before you decide to open that particular salt mine. Pros: oh hey, they let us know the major plot of the season; Arturo!!! Cons: Echo heavy, no Malex; in fact no Alex, Kyle, or Rosa; yet somehow still could spare a few seconds for the guest cast; Nathan did not deserve to have THAT done to his hair.

SaL anon here friend and we finally have some RNM promo pics. Stupidly Optimistic Me Who Never Learns: "At last!! S4 is giving us the Kylex brotp content we've been begging for since S1!!" Painfully Realistic Me: "Great, M*ria's dying again and we're going to be forced to watch everyone be concerned because her uselessness means they have no other plotline for her." Also why are they forcing poor Kyle to support her again??!! Hasn't that man suffered enough?

Hi bestie! I combined these asks so I could knock them both out and I spent my time recovering from my Covid booster shot (my arm STILL hurts, WTF is that about? It’s been 3 days??) by catching up a tiny bit on RNM stuff since I have looked at nothing since shortly after season 3 ended. I won’t be able to watch live though I’m planning on watching next day but that might be for the best.

So the trailer! Pros: yaaaaaas Arturo my beloved! Also saw Cameron which was a nice surprise! I’m mildly intrigued by the other aliens so that could be neat?

Cons: While I did love Echo at the start of the show and they have had some sweet moments throught, the fact that the show is constantly waffling on who Max is has been frustrating. Having him go from soft, stary-eyed writer who thinks Liz hung the moon, to going behind her back, and lashing out at everyone in anger because he’s a leading man, and a cop, and has to be Strong and Violent and Can’t Know How To Express Emotions Besides Anger (even though he’s a fiction writer and eloquently expressing emotions is like, the whole of what he does) is tiresome. Max is always at his best when he is being supportive and kind and soft and we unfortunately don’t get to see a lot of that so it makes me less excited to see what is going on with Echo. Also it’s 2022, the whole “will they, won’t they, let’s see soulmate happily date other people, then invent drama to keep them apart” thing is TIRED. Just let soulmates have each other’s backs and take on the things trying to tear them apart together. That’s LITERALLY the whole point of soulmates! They are on the same page, they work better together because they bring out the best in each other. Let them do that! (This also applies to Malex, of course.)

The fact that we didn’t see Alex, Kyle, or Rosa is a crime actually, especially considering they are the glue that holds everything together. I also saw some stuff from Tyler about fans not being too happy at the start sooooo we have that to look forward to! 🙃🙃🙃 And considering the amount of m*ria in the promo and the non-existence of Alex, Kyle, and Rosa, I’m sure this season is going to be a repeat of season 3 on that front. Yay 🙄

Nathan absolutely did NOT deserve to have that done to his hair. It’s not the worst, but his hair was sooo good last season! This is a definite downgrade.

The stills! Kylex brotp my absolute beloved!! I’m so excited to see them in the same room and it looks like Eduardo is there too? So MAYBE we get to focus some on what Alex is doing? Not holding my breath though. Also a lot of Dallas and Michael just chilling together which I love! 

That Team Liz shirt is very cute and I want the whole gang to have one and wear all the time to support her, it’s what she deserves. I’m also loving whenever they let her lean into the “geeky scientist” wear that you know people who are too busy being tied up in their brain and work put on instead of trying to make me believe Practical Liz would wear fancy heeled boots on an investigation she knows is to a cabin in the woods. Women can be fancy and well-dressed people but also wear practical clothes when it makes sense, I promise it’s okay.

I kinda saw the stills of m*ria and Kyle as her scans looking better or at least like she’s not getting worse? So I don’t think she’s dying again, but I wouldn’t be shocked if she was because of course she would be. Hopefully Kyle gets more to do this season that carry everyone’s burdens on his back while they all forget all about him when he gets kidnapped because they’re too busy fawning over m*ria. Fingers crossed we get some good content for him.

Anyway, sorry not sorry to anyone who followed me for 911 content for the salt gremlin I’m about to become over this show. This show always deserved better than the CW, though it’s a shame the CW is Like That because it’s network TV meaning it’s free and it’s one of the few channels that’s NOT cable or streaming that you have to pay for that really leans into genre shows. Soooo much of network TV is centered on cop shows that basically spend every episode brutally murdering people (very often women) and then investigating it with the occasional “live victim” thrown in for funsies. This is why 911 feels so different (and why going back to trying to watch other shows is HARD) because it’s SO hopeful and most of the time the people live! What a novel concept! Then you have the CW which plays a lot with mystical/sci-fi stuff, often centered on romance which is a nice change of pace! But it’s run by people who, it feels like, HATE or at the very least have a great contempt for and look down on teens, genre shows, and romance. And RNM was supposed to be adults! It was supposed to lean into the sci-fi stuff and the alien soulmate thing from an adult perspective. But since it was the CW they leaned into the teen soapy drama, which, spoiler alert, is not ever what people wanted out of their “teen” genre shows to begin with! I think things got confused since there wasn’t easy, free access to genre shows when CW first started cranking them out, and they decided to apply their idea of what “Teen Girl Logic” was (all the different hot people making out with each other is all anyone wants!) to shows about soulmates and science fiction, and superheroes etc. without taking into account that isn’t actually true, AND more than just “teen girls” like genre shows, but a lot of the “adult” ones are dark and brutal and hopeless. So watching media geared towards “younger” audiences can often be an easer, more wholesome watching experience. (Like Julie and the Phantoms! I watched it multiple times, and even my grandma who is in her 80s watched it more than once. It’s bright and happy and wholesome AND has ghosts! And music!). *me frantically trying to find the thread here* Point is, this show COULD have been the sci-fi show focused on adults (and soulmates) healing after a decade of being apart and a lifetime of hiding things, while still having fun shenanigans, and bright colors that a lot of people want, but instead we got....this. 

Whooo boy this got away from me and my head is fuzzy again so I’m going to just going to leave this word vomit here, sorry. Anyway, see you all on Tuesday when I get around to watching the premier! Lets all hope for some good things and brace for whatever it is we will be getting instead.

[edelwoodsouls]

maybe in another universe - ch. 2 [fic]

Jon isn’t expecting anything good when he’s evacuated to the countryside. Living with his crush rival he can just about handle. The secret magical world in the upstairs wardrobe, on the other hand, might just break him.

AKA: Narnia AU

Word Count: 3,570 | Also on Ao3 | Chapters: 1,

chapter two: in the land of the watcher

It's raining.

No, that's not really a good word for it. The skies have split open and are casting down an ocean, and usually Martin would thrive, curl up with a collection of Keats or Wordsworth and have melancholy thoughts as he stares at the grey clouds above.

But no such luck. He's been forced out of his room by Ms Perry, the iron-fisted housekeeper - all four of the teenagers have been relegated to the library, where they can supposedly do as little harm as possible.

It's a tense affair. Basira is curled on one of the sofas with an Ancient Greek to English dictionary and a battered book that looks like it's been set on fire several times. Melanie has managed to pry one of the ceremonial swords off the wall, and is practicing swinging it at precarious angles.

Jon is most definitely not reading the crumbling tome clutched in his hands, though he's trying very hard to pretend. Martin can feel the eyes boring into him, sat where he is in the middle of the room, legs crossed in front of a large, malfunctioning radio.

He's been trying to get it fixed for what feels like hours now, to cling to the pulse of information that has been snatched away in this remote and antiquated house. He can feel Jon getting closer and closer to the end of his very thin patience with every jump of static.

After what feels like the millionth time of almost, when he can feel Jon's irritation about to froth at his lips, Martin finally throws his screwdriver on the ground. The silence in the room is overbearing. "Let's play a game."

"Yes," Melanie says immediately, accentuating the word with an alarming jab of her sword in his direction. "What're you thinking?"

"Hide and seek," Basira chimes in, looking up from her book with a smirk. "This house looks brilliant for it."

"I second that," Melanie nods. "Martin?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Sounds like fun."

"Three votes for hide and seek. It's decided then."

"Don't I get a vote?" Jon mutters, not looking up from where he's gripping his book very tightly.

"No, Jon, you don't, because you're a spoilsport and you'll suggest something like re-alphabetising the library or being good little so and sos. And even if you did, majority rules. So-" Melanie thrusts her sword an inch from Jon's face, "buck up and join in, or fuck off."

Jon looks about ready to attempt murder with his bare hands, but before he can get a word out, Melanie throws her sword dramatically onto the floor with a loud clatter, and closes her eyes. "ONE... TWO... THREE..."

Martin grins as he pulls himself off the floor and flees for the door. It's been a long time since he's felt young enough to play games, let alone had the friends to play them with. There's something so childish, so delightful, about running in a place not meant for running, folding himself into somewhere hidden and waiting with baited breath to be found.

Being hunted, without the consequence of failure.

Jon barrels past him, arms flailing. Martin's never seen him run but god, he's fast. He shoots down the corridor and vanishes behind a flurry of curtains.

Martin continues on until he reaches a closed door. Behind him he can hear Melanie's counting, yelled at the top of her lungs - no doubt the housekeeper will kill them later for disturbing the professor. She's nearly finished, and the adrenaline pounding in Martin's veins is reaching heights it hasn't in weeks, and he needs a hiding place now.

There's a spider's web strung in the corner of the doorway, a tiny house spider nestled at it's centre. Almost invisible, if not for Martin's keen eyes, his bone-deep expectation that he'll find at least one no matter where he goes.

It's just a spider, he tells himself, and the thought sounds hollow even to him.

But he throws open the bolt of the door anyway and tumbles into the room, slamming it haphazardly closed.

It takes him a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the door, and that's why it takes him so long to notice the ornate wardrobe at the other end of the room. There's nothing else here, as if this space was designed solely to house a single piece of furniture.

And it's beautiful, deep maroon wood carved with all sorts of imagery Martin can't make sense of - eyes staring out unblinking from one door, webs strung across the other, both surrounded and wreathed in flames.

Some nameless thing in his gut calls him forward.

The click of those carved doors opening sounds too loud, like the snap of fingers right beside his ear. A breeze dances across his cheeks, though the doors and windows are closed, and the collection of coats inside are still.

Without thinking, he delves in.

<linebreak>

He should be surprised by the winter wonderland at the back of the wardrobe.

Somehow, he isn't.

The world in the wardrobe seems to go on forever. He's been wandering for miles, he's certain of it - the chill is beginning to set into his fingers, kept at bay only by the adrenaline still humming through his body at the sheer magic of it all.

Suddenly, ever pretending that magic wasn't real seems like such a childish thing to do. It's right here, in front of him. The snow soaks through his shoes, collects in his hair. His breath puffs in little clouds before his face.

Just an hour ago, he was staring at a dreary English afternoon.

He's definitely not in England anymore.

Still, even with all this magical strangeness, he's not expecting the lamp post. Stood proudly alone in a clearing, as if the other trees have shrunk away from its alien material. It's lit, casting a faint glow on the snow, and he can hear the burn of gas inside the glass.

He stops short. "What."

He hovers at the edge of the clearing, unwilling to disturb the perfect snow circling this strange spectacle. It feels reverent, deferential - something that shouldn't be here, even with all its magic. It feels wrong.

"You're not from around here."

Martin yelps, attempting to spin around too fast to look behind him. Instead he trips over his own feet and goes tumbling into the snow, sending eruptions of white powder up into air.

The voice that startled him laughs, a low and dry sound. "Sorry, friend. Didn't mean to startle you."

Martin's view is obscured by his damp curls and the snow beginning to drip into his eyes, but he just about makes out the hand gloved in fingerless black leather thrust into his face. Each joint is marked with ink, and Martin could swear every symbol is a wide, unblinking eye.

He accepts the proffered hand instinctively, hauled up with surprising strength into standing on his feet.

"Thanks," Martin says, cheeks bright pink not just from the cold.

The figure laughs again, shifts into the pool of light under the lamp post - and Martin gets his first real look at the man. Long, inky hair falling into his eyes. His clothes are a mismatch of leather and dark-dyed fabric that look old, in a way that defies a specific era of fashion but gives a distinctly archaic feel.

The guy brushes his hair behind his ear, revealing his face - five o'clock shadow curving along his sharp jawline, and the longest eyelashes Martin's ever seen, and bright, dark eyes.

For a moment, Martin short-circuits.

"Do you have a habit of falling head over heels for strangers?" the man grins. From deep in his pockets he procurs a metal lighter and a pipe. He leans easily against the lamp post, as if it's totally meant to be there, and takes a drag. The smoke that reaches Martin is strangely sweet and spiced, like cinnamon and cloves.

"Uh, no," Martin says, brushing the snow off his clothes distractedly. "You just startled me."

"I'm very sorry," the guy says. He sounds more amused than anything. "Where are my manners? I'm Gerry."

"Martin."

"Nice to meet you, Martin. You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," Martin frowns. "How did you know?"

"Well, for one thing, you're human."

"I'm- sorry?"

"Human. Homosapien. Son of Adam. Take your pic, really, there are so very many labels."

"I guess? Are you-"

Martin cuts himself off as Gerry shifts his weight and the folds of his clothes settle differently, revealing his legs. Unlike the rest of his ensemble, they're clothed in fur that looks like it was originally some ochre shade, and has been dyed rather shoddily black.

Except they're not clothed...

"You're a goat," Martin blurts out, nonplussed, the filter between mouth and brain paper thin.

"I'm a satyr," Gerry frowns in mock admonishment. "Hint two that you're not from around here - that's incredibly rude of you."

"Oh! Uh, sorry."

"I'm messing with you, Martin," Gery grins, a glint-toothed expression that makes Martin slightly dizzy. "But yes, I'm not human. No one born under the eye of the Ceaseless Watcher is."

"I'm sorry, the...?"

"Ceaseless Watcher." Gerry's easy grin flickers, his eyes darting towards the trees. Martin follows him instinctively, but sees nothing except the vanishing darkness of the trees. "The god of Magnus."

"And Magnus is...?" Martin feels very far behind in this conversation.

"This land. Everything you can see in this winter world, from sea to mountains to sky- that's Magnus."

"Right... so I got here how?"

Gerry shrugs. "Who can say, really. The magic here is- unpredictable. Has a mind of its own."

"Magic," Martin repeats. Unsure how to feel about this word being thrown out like they're talking about gravity, or the alphabet - institutional. Factual.

"Magic," Gerry agrees, smirking at Martin's bemused expression.

He should really be getting back. The thought appears distantly, lethargically. He's getting cold, and the others will no doubt be getting worried about him. Or Melanie will, at least. He can imagine Jon rolling his eyes. He's probably gotten stuck somewhere and can't get out. He'll come wandering in eventually.

But Martin doesn't really want to leave. He wants to continue on this adventure, explore this world that believes in magic like it believes in the sunrise each morning.

He wants to keep talking to this mysterious, incredibly pretty man. Goat. Satyr.

"You look cold," Gerry notes, offering Martin a drag of his pipe. Martin accepts more out of instinct than anything, cringeing as the fumes make him choke. "Come back to mine for tea? I just got some amazing jasmin tea from a dryad who owed me a favour, and I promise it's worth the walk."

Martin hesitates, for just a moment. Considers the risks of wandering off with a strange man he met in the woods.

"Just as long as it's not oolong," he says eventually, with a shudder. "I'd love to."

Gerry loops their arms together and begins leading him into the woods. "No oolong, I promise."

<linebreak>

Gerry, as it turns out, lives in a cave.

It's a very nice cave, Martin has to admit. The walls are lined with bookshelves packed to bursting - tomes titled in some language he can't read that, as he stares at the letters, suddenly begin to make sense. The floor is covered up by rugs, vibrantly coloured and filled with detail. He feels almost guilty stepping onto them with his wet shoes, walking over intricately stitched faces and landscapes.

He turns to see Gerry tapping the snow off his hooves with a cute little dance, before shrugging off his long leather coat, revealing a waistcoat - and nothing else - beneath. Martin can see now, without a doubt, the thickly haired legs beneath his long grey skirt. There are burn scars crawling across his bare arms - across most available skin.

There are more eye tattoos, too, starkly black against his pale skin. When Martin stares for too long, he's convinced he can see some of them blink.

"Take a seat," Gerry says, nodding towards a pair of invitingly soft arm chairs positioned next to a fireplace.

As Martin sinks thankfully into the chair - he hasn't had to walk that far, possible ever - he watches, transfixed, as Gerry flicks his hand in the direction of the fireplace.

It bursts to life instantly.

"How did you do that?" he asks, eyes wide.

"What?" Gerry blinks momentarily. "Oh, that- magic. A gift from the Lightless Flame."

"The Lightless Flame?"

"One of the gods of Magnus."

"I thought you said the- the Ceaseless Watcher was the god of Magnus?"

Gerry lets out a laugh, low and bitter. "The only one that matters. All the others have... not faded, exactly. Retreated, you could say. Bowed down. The Ceaseless Watcher rules these lands. All others pay subservience."

"Right." The dark tone in Gerry's voice is beginning to unnerve him.

"Doesn't mean there aren't those of us who don't give a shit," Gerry shrugs, that easy demeanour plastering over the top of whatever just slipped out - though now Martin has seen it, the mask doesn't quite seem to fit. "We pay what we have to, to stay alive."

Martin nods wordlessly. He can understand that.

"I'll just make some tea," Gerry continues, darting up some steps towards what Martin assumes must be a kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable!"

Martin adjusts in his seat. Breathes in the quiet, broken only by the steady crackling of the fire beside him. He can feel it, already, beginning to scare the chill from his fingers, beginning to lull any of his hesitations.

A strange rush of adrenaline floods him suddenly at the thought. He sits up, threads his fingers together, eyes darting around the space.

He's forgotten what it is to be comfortable, he realises. This feeling lowering him gently into calm is unnatural, alien - and not to be trusted.

Before he can begin to think about that too deeply, Gerry reappears, two steaming cups in hand. Martin accepts it gratefully, trying to shelve his discomfort for another day's mental spiral.

He'd hate to ruin the first nice thing to happen to him in a while.

"Is it always so cold here?" he asks, taking a careful sip and sighing as it warms him almost instantly. "Where I came from, it was summer. I mean, it was a horribly rainy summer, but still."

Gerry lets out a small laugh. "It's always winter here."

"Always? Like, never anything else?"

"That is the definition of always. But yes, that's the general idea. Summer is too- positive, for Magnus. Winter is hopeless and dreary and lonely. There is far more to fear in a winter's night."

"That's not at all ominous."

"The lack of change is terrible, too," Gerry continues. His eyes are fixed on the fire, the flames casting strange shadows across his skin. "We don't even get Christmas to look forward to."

"You have Christmas?" Martin frowns. "In Magnus? As a concept, at least? I thought that was a particular religious holiday in my world."

Gerry shrugs noncommittally. "There are many winter traditions that overlap. Some things bleed from one world to another. Maybe it started here, for all you know."

Martin opens his mouth to argue about the improbability of all this, but quickly shuts it again. He's only just been introduced to magic and other worlds - and he's pretty sure logic isn't going to enter the equation any time soon.

"What's it like in your world?" Gerry asks suddenly, fixing Martin with a curious, almost hungry look. "Much better than here, I'd suppose."

"I wouldn't count on it," Martin laughs sharply. "There's a huge war going on. Thousands die on the battlefield. Thousands more die back home as the world sets itself on fire. It's- a nightmare."

Martin curls his hands close around his cup, letting the heat burn his hands. The pain sharpens his senses, grounds him in this moment, before memories of smoke and flame can consume him.

"I'm sorrry," Gerry says softly. "That sounds awful."

"Heh," Martin tries for a weak, concillatory smile, though he's sure it falls short. He covers it up with another sip of tea.

Gerry starts talking again, but Martin can barely hear the words. There's a sudden distance to the world, for all that he clings harder to his scalding mug, for all he tries to keep his eyes wide. The sound is muffled, and his vision of the room is beginning to blur.

He has just enough time to look at his cup of tea, at the earthy sediment he can just about make out swirling at the bottom, before understanding, and horror, and a hundred other things crash into him.

But he's asleep before his cup hits the floor.

<linebreak>

He wakes slumped in the armchair, and for a moment can't remember where he is. The fire has been snuffed out, leaving only smoking remains, and the chill is beginning to leach back into Martin's bones.

The cave is dark. Martin shifts, groggy- and regains his senses with a suddenly sharpness as he catches movement on the other side of the room.

Gerry is hunched on the stairs towards the kitchen, staring vacantly at his hands, at the eyes on his knuckles. He doesn't seem to notice Martin at all.

"Gerry?" Martin says softly, standing up carefully. His cup lies in shards on the floor, a pool of stone-cold tea leaking from the ruins. He can't remember dropping it.

He can't remember falling asleep.

"I'm sorry," Gerry whispers, so quietly it's barely more than a snatch of air.

"Why?" A chill trickles down Martin's spine; it's nothing to do with the cold of the room. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he repeats. "I didn't- I don't want-"

"Gerry," Martin says, and there's an edge of steel in his voice that doesn't leave room for debate. "Tell me what's happening."

The satyr looks up finally, and somehow Martin isn't surprised that his eyes are glowing bright green, like lanterns in the dark.

"We pay what we have to, to stay alive."

The chill in Martin's veins solidifies to ice. "What did you pay? What do you have to do?"

He already knows the answer, in the hummingbird beat of his heart, in the shortness of his own breath. And still, it feels like a hammer blow, like the slam of a coffin lid, when Gerry speaks.

"You."

"Me?"

"Humans," Gerry says, voice rough and shaking, like he's barely holding himself together. "They aren't native to these lands. They don't exist here. If they ever come, if there's enough of them, they say the end of the Ceaseless Watcher will be near. The world will finally change."

"I'm just one person, though."

"Not for long," Gerry shakes his head emphatically. "Where there's one, more will always follow. So- he kills them."

"Who kills them?" Martin demands. "Stop being so fucking cryptic and explain things to me."

"The pupil of the eye."

Martin is just about ready to hit this guy.

"We're supposed to give him any humans we find," Gerry rushes to explain. "I'm supposed to send you to him."

"But you're not going to, right?" Martin says slowly, inching towards the poker by the fire. It's an impromptu weapon, but it just might buy him a few seconds. "Because I dazzled you so much with my company that you've decided to have a change of heart?"

For a moment, the silence stretches, and Martin is certain he's about to have to fight for his life.

Even with all the unexplained magic in his life, he doesn't like his chances.

Something changes in Gerry's face. He sets his jaw, balls his fists. He blinks, and his eyes return to their normal, unfathomably dark shade.

"No," he says. "I'm not going to. Come on."

Before Martin has a chance to register anything, Gerry seizes his hand and drags him out into the snow.

They run. For what feels like hours, rushing past a blur of trees and ice and rock so fast Martin is sure it must be some type of magic. Gerry's grip is vice-like, but Martin only clings harder.

He imagines bombs falling behind him. A world of darkness and debris, too hot for the season as fires burn through its skyline.

Has he really just traded one daydream-turned-nightmare for another?

When they reach the lamp post's clearing, Gerry skids to a sudden stop, kicking up snow in a shower. He turns to Martin, wild-eyed with a feverish adrenaline.

"You know your way frrom here?" he demands, gripping Martin's arms and searching his face for the answer before he has a chance to speak.

"Uh- yeah- I think so," Martin stutters.

"Good. You need to run. Don't stop, don't talk to anyone - or anything, not even yourself. The trees might hear you."

"The trees?"

"There are eyes everywhere."

Somehow, Martin gets the feeling Gerry isn't being figurative.

"What about you?" he asks. "If the- pupil of the eye, what if he finds out you didn't turn me over?"

Gerry gives him a pained smile. "Run, Martin. While you still have the chance."

"But-"

"I'm so glad to have met you." The way Gerry says this, so softly, so sincerely, brings Martin up short. "Now go."

He doesn't need telling again. With one final, memorising glance at Gerry, a dark figure among a landscape of snow-

Martin flees into the dying night.

[zambie-trashart]

Flirting With Disaster pt2

Phanfics masterlist

Remember to pic the winner over here on tumblr otherwise the peps over on ao3 are going to have all the say in who wins.

...........................................

... and that's pretty much how it went," Julie finished explaining and Alex just stared at her in shock.

"My own friends turned my anxiety into a game," Alex said arms flailing wildly not wanting to believe it. "You don't think Willie would actually..." Julie stood up shaking her head.

"He would never agree to that stupid idea, there's no way," Julie said trying to comfort Alex who had begun pacing around her room.

"We have to stop this game," Alex said his eyes narrowing.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Julie said pulling her phone out smiling at Alex who had begun to get nervous again. "She should be here any minute." Alex spent the next hour learning how to act if Reggie or Luke tried anything. Alex still had the lingering feeling that he was missing something but pushed it down exhausted from working hard on himself he poofed down to the studio and fell asleep on the couch wanting these next three days to be done as soon as possible.

Willie stood outside the studio holding his hand up to knock on the door but it slid open before his hand could even touch it. Luke and Reggie stood inside with wide smiles splayed across their faces, Willie went to speak but the other two quickly put their fingers to their lips shushing him and Willie soon understood why, there was a sleeping Alex in front of him. Alex looked, dare he say, beautiful sleeping, his lips slightly parted, bangs over his eyes, on his back left arm under his head and right flung across his waist. Did his lips look pinker? There was definitely something different about him.

"This is the perfect time to fluster him," Luke said rubbing his hands together.

"Aww, he looks so peaceful," Reggie said looking down at his sleeping friend. The three stepped closer.

"Who's going first?" Luke asked and Reggie stepped forward. He kneeled down next to his friend placing a hand on the back of his neck and other hand on his jawline using his thumb to trace an outline of his lips before blowing on his ear thinking that that would do it but Alex just groaned turning over. Luke grabbed Reggie's shoulders yanking him up.

"Thirty seconds are up Reg, better luck next time," Luke said and Reggie just sighed crossing his arms as Luke took his place leaning over Alex left hand on the couch next to Alex's hip left hand gliding through his hair Alex shifted eyes squeezing tight and Luke grabbed his hair pulling a little.

"Time," Reggie said and Luke pulled his hands back and Alex just shifted back left leg curling up on top of his right. Willie stepped forward hands unclenching from fists at his sides, he looked down at Alex sighing he grabbed the side of his face and placed a hand on Alex's upper thigh. Alex shifted a little and Willie squeezed his hand on Alex's thigh and Alex sat up gasping eyes wide open the three players poofed out as quickly as possible looking through the window of the studio doors at Alex who's face was bright red.

"That's a blush," Reggie said and Alex jumped up walking back and forth in front of the coffee table. "Oh, and a pace, nice combo," Reggie added.

"Yeah but it's only a matter of time before we catch up," Luke said opening the doors to see that Alex wasn't there anymore.

"Where did he go?" Reggie asked and Luke's eyes went wide and he shook his head, no need to give Willie more points.

Alex knocked on Julie's door before walking in growling.

"Someone's angry," Julie said and Flynn just laughed beside her friend.

"Someone touched my butt, there were three people in that room, that means that Willie's playing. I really didn't want Willie to play, I thought he would have had more respect for me than that," Alex said flopping down on Julie's bed.

"We're going to need more help," Julie said and Flynn nodded picking up her phone texting someone.

"I hope you're ready to be unflusterable, she said she'd do it," Flynn said and Julie got up excited.

If there was one thing that Carrie wasn't expecting, it was having to give a ghost makeover at eight in the morning on a Sunday, but hey, free makeover. Alex was tall but he looked like he wanted to shrink in on himself, she would have to fix that, she'd also have to fix his hoodie fixation, that ripped jacket had to go too, and the cargo pants. She was going to have to start from scratch.

"So what you're saying is he just has to out-fluster the guys who are trying to fluster him?" Carrie asked Julie and Flynn looking Alex up and down.

"Pretty much, we figured who better to help him than the girl who can have confidence in everything she does," Julie said and Carrie smiled at her quickly before turning back to Alex.

"We're going to need new clothes, something similar to what the boys he's trying to fluster wear so it's like he's wearing their clothes, we could swoop his hair to the side, and a touch of makeup," Carrie said pulling some stuff out. Black tank top, high waisted jeans, high tops, hair brushed off to the left, pink and black flannel over his shoulders, light pink lip stick, and a bit of mascara. "My creation is ready," Carrie said opening up the curtain and Flynn and Julie's jaws dropped.

"Wow," Julie said just staring and Flynn's mouth opened and closed a few times before she just started clapping.

"I am impressed," Flynn managed to get out and Carrie just bowed.

"All we need is to work on his behavior, he needs to be more confident," Carrie said sitting down, this was going to take a while.

Reggie, Luke, and Willie were bored and Alex was nowhere to be seen.

"This day is a bust, Julie's not even around," Luke said and the door swung open and Julie walked in with Flynn.

"... it's totally going to work. Oh, hey guys," Julie said and they just waved at her.

"Have you seen Alex?" Reggie asked and someone tapped on his shoulder. Reggie looked behind him and fell out of his seat shrieking.

"Reggie what," Luke looked up on front of him at Alex who brushed a hand through his hair. "Oh my God," Luke's voice went up and octave turning bright red and Willie next to him didn't seem to be taking it much better and poofed out. Alex held his hands out next to him and Julie and Flynn gave him a high five each.

"Something up Luke?" Alex asked head tilting to the side smiling at his friend. Reggie got up.

"Not at all," Luke said smiling back at Alex walking up to him placing a hand on his shoulder and crawling up to his face cupping his cheek. Alex couldn't help his face turning pink, Julie glared at Luke, if he wanted to play this game, he was going to lose. Alex swatted Luke’s hand off on his face and Flynn grabbed his arm pulling him out of the studio. Julie stood arms crossed glaring at Luke and Reggie.

“You boys wanna play a game, fine, let’s play,” Julie said walking up to them poking them in their chests. Luke and Reggie stepped back composing themselves.

“Game on Julie,” Luke said smiling at Julie who just continued glaring before spinning on her heel walking out of the studio.

“We’re going to need to up our game,” Reggie said and Luke’s eyes lit up getting an idea.

“Well, we’re already trying to get Willie out of the game so why not let them spend a little time together just taking points away from each other and then when they least expect it, one of us will win and Alex will spend more time with the band again,” Luke said and Reggie nodded in agreement.

“Perfect but how will we get points?” Reggie asked confused on that part of the plan.

“Easy, in our alone time with Alex, we make him as uncomfortable as possible, make eye contact with him as much as possible, touch him, do anything. If we can get him to blush a bunch, poof out at least once a day, and get him to yell at least twice, we’ll beat Willie, and we don’t have to worry about Alex,” Luke said brushing off the idea that Alex would be able to pull another fast one on them.

“Let’s win this thing,” Reggie said holding his hand out for Luke to high-five.

Alex sat on Julie’s bed knee bobbing up and down.

“Those idiots want to play hardball then we’re going to need to fight back harder,” Julie said walking into the room. ”Flynn, call Carrie tonight we’re going to perfect this gameplan. There’s no way we’re going to lose cause if we do lose, this just proves that flirts can win a game that no one else is playing,” Julie said and Carrie picked up the phone.

“So what, we’re just going to prove that flirts are bad by having me flirt?” Alex asked and Julie opened her mouth then shut it opening it again but Carrie spoke up.

“Who says that he even has to say anything?” Carrie asked smirking on the other side of the phone and the girls seemed to get the message.

“Right, you don’t even have to open your mouth,” Flynn said rubbing her hands together.

“Ok, you guys are scaring me,” Alex said feeling a little left out of the plan.

“Oh don’t you worry your pretty little head about any of this, these next two days are going to be a breeze,” Julie said sitting Alex back down.

“Total breeze,” Alex said relaxing a little.

Willie hit his head back against a wall in a random alley. “I’ve really done it now haven’t I?” Willie asked looking up at the sky which was turning pink as the sun set. “I’m so sorry Alex,” Willie said closing his eyes.

“Why are you sorry?” Alex asked making Willie almost fall over scaring him.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about when Caleb put his stamps on you and I know that you don’t want me to think about it but I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if I lost you,” Willie said walking over to Alex holding his face in his hands feeling Alex blush before feeling Alex’s hands on his shoulder.

“It’s in the past Willie, you shouldn’t think too much about it. I hate it when you put yourself down, I care about you,” Alex said and Willie’s eyes went wide and his face went warm. Score.

Alex stayed with Willie for a few more hours forgetting about the game, no blushing, pacing, yelling, or poofing. Alex poofed back to Julie’s room around nine pm falling back onto her bed.

“Have fun?” Julie asked putting her phone aside wanting to hear about all of his accomplishments.

“I got a blush and he’s probably pacing right now, what would that count as?” Alex asked.

“I overheard the boys talking about their point system you’ve got three just from tonight, you got a poof earlier which is four and blush from Luke so in total you’ve got eight which is pretty good. Luke has four, Reggie has three, and Willie has four too right, he didn’t get anything out of you tonight did he?” Julie asked and Alex sighed.

“One blush but that’s it I swear,” Alex said and Julie sighed.

“So Willie’s got five, we should keep track,” Julie wrote the first initial from each of their names on a chalkboard on her wall adding the proper amount of tally marks.

“We’re in the lead,” Alex said smiling.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Julie said and Alex poofed back down to the studio to go to bed for the night thinking of what tomorrow would bring, he had so many plans but little did he know that the other three players had a plan too. Game on.

[axther]

Hi can I request a matchup?? I’m a 5’0 bi girl (preference for girls but guys are also cool!) i have short, dark hair and big brown eyes, and I never leave the house without trying to dress fashionably. I’m super bubbly and social, sometimes reckless and wild, I’m intellectually smart but a huge dumbass, and can’t help myself from smiling. I’m also depressed and hella self conscious so that’s fun! I like art, writing poetry and short stories, and theatre. Thank you so much!

Hi this took forever I am SO sorry. My ass Do be depressed and slow, and my brain said ‘haha writer juices EMPTY. WHORE’ so this definitely had me stumped   

#1 is...Neijre! 

Now I’m probably gonna key in on the reckless and wild part here

Because y’all met at a party probably!! 

Now we all know that Neijre is popular. 

Blunt but popular. 

So one day y’all are at someone’s ‘my parent’s aren’t home and I’m pretty sure that if I replace the vodka with water they won’t notice’ party. 

It’s going great!! 

People are wasted and Lady Gaga is blasting and the friend you came with ran off with a Ketsubutsu student 

You’re kind of tipsy

Tipsy enough that you don’t have the cognition to think through decisions 

So you’re standing next to this blue-haired cutie who you’re pretty sure you’ve seen before 

When someone bursts through the front door, screaming bloody murder about the police 

Naturally, they have everyone’s attention when an officer that definitely already called the paddy wagon 

So someone from the upstairs balcony hollers ‘scatter!!’ and you grab the hand of the first person you saw

Which was the blue-haired girl! 

And she seems surprised but she runs with it (literally)!! 

You two go upstairs, almost cornered, before hopping out a window 

You two are falling when she uses her quirk and helps your landing 

And then y’all make tracks for the fence line. 

By the time you two have ditched the house, it’s almost midnight 

And you guys are wandering around town 

The blue-haired girl’s heels are hanging off of one hand 

And the silence is filled with babbling between the two 

A gas station is the decided pit stop before you two part ways 

And you walk in to get some waters 

As you two sit on the curb, watching idiot light cigarettes and try to peel out of the station, she glances over

 There’s something magnetic about you 

And she can’t quite pin what 

But you’re always smiling 

And it’s the opposite of getting on her nerves

She wants to see it again and again 

She’s staring at her drink, thinking, before you present her with a handful of chicory flowers 

She realises that you must have picked them from the side of the road 

She’s bright red because, with all of her social expertise, she doesn’t even know your name. 

She doesn’t know if you’re into girls, if you’re trying to ask her out, if you’re just being nice…

She takes them, and before y’all know it, you’re both leaning in

And as she takes the flowers from your hands, you two kiss

Someone mumbles from one of the pumps that it’s just turned midnight 

Out of nowhere 

Your phone goes off 

And that’s when you jump out of the kiss, and your face falls into a mix of shame, fear, and sheepishness.

‘Sorry,’ you murmur. ‘This is my friend, she was at the party. I probably have to go. Are you going to be alright?’ 

Neijre can only mutely nod, still awestruck 

You begin to walk away, your friend audibly hollering at you from the other end of the line about bail

You look back every couple steps or so to make sure that Neijre is okay before you turn and walk out of sight 

And this begins something for Neijre that makes her hold her hands in her cheeks with a bright red blush 

The problem rises the next morning though

When she wakes up in her bed with a headache, she realises that she has no literal idea who you were 

So when she goes to class (because real thugs party on weekdays) she’s hugging the chicory flowers to herself 

She tells her story to Mirio 

Who tells it to Midoriya 

Who tells it to Ochako

Who tells it to Aoyama

Who tells it to-yeah, you get the idea 

So by lunch, the entire school is talking about Neijre’s Cinderella story, and about her kiss at midnight 

And what do you know? 

You hear it in your friend group from 1-D that Neijre got into a cop chase with a dashing stranger who she made out with on a bridge before being cruelly dumped 

And you’re just like ‘?????’ before asking where to find Neijre. 

They answer but don’t put two and two together that maybe you were the dashing stranger 

So later that day you go to the road to pick more chicories and add some speedwells in there, before going to hunt down Neijre. 

You’re standing at the entrance of school the next morning 

And it’s FAR too early for this 

But that’s what love does 

But anyway

You’re standing there

 With the flowers in hand 

And you stand there 

And stand some more 

And you’re standing there for two hours 

And you’re contemplating just bailing and finding her another time 

When you hear the loudest gasp 

You look up

And she’s standing there, hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide 

‘N-No way! It’s you!!’ 

She looks positively elated, and before you can do anything more 

She leaps forward and kisses you smack on the lips 

Sure people are staring 

But she just covers you in kisses, grinning giddily the entire time. 

She seriously had doubted that you would appear, ever again

And that midnight would seem like a summer dream 

Mirio would have to usher Tamaki with him inside because of how long it takes for you two to part 

It becomes the Cinderella story of U.A.

#2 is...Tooru! 

Listen 

This may be sad/punny 

But you make her feel seen 

You always make her feel involved

She understands that because of her quirk there is a bit of an obstacle in trying to involve her 

So whenever you look over and ask her opinion 

She feels really giddy!! 

It makes her blush, and for once, she feels grateful for the invisibility; you can’t see her light up like a Christmas tree. 

She daydreams about you a lot, and to be honest, it’s always really domestic. 

Yes, she may be a cuddle bug, but she wants to go grocery shopping with you and complain about how expensive milk has become 

And sometimes her daydreams will evolve into actual scenarios, including arguments. 

Every time it shifts, she gets kinda spooked and semi-avoids you for about an hour afterwards

The first time you guys really interacted was at the Sports Festival, during the race 

She was lagging a little bit behind because her quirk doesn’t really help 

So at one point, she gets tripped up (she has her uniform on, remember!) 

And she’s pretty sure that he knee is scraped 

But then this sweet little lady stops and notices Tooru holding her knee for a second. 

Tooru’s confused when the young woman looks around, before placing a hand over the wound. 

Tooru’s about to freak out before realising that the wound is gone, but instead, it’s on your knee now 

You give her a thumbs up and carry on, limping a bit now 

She can her Present Mic talking about it loudly, but she’s too busy getting back up and running to pay attention 

She makes it into the top ten (if I remember right) so after you congratulate her!

 With a high five!! 

She’s really giggly throughout the entire encounter and tries to subtly ask if you’re single 

Note that subtly is not really subtle 

So you have an invisible cutie coming for your kneecaps!! 

To kiss them better!! 

After you two begin to chat more

And she invites you to a lot of the extra 1-A outings! 

All the girls are super supportive of it and do their best to make some sort of shoujo situation out of it. 

If it rains then conveniently Tooru left her umbrella at the dorms!! Oh no!! 

Oh? Ochako has an extra that’s big enough to cover the entire class? 

Well then!! You and Tooru have to share 

(bakugou also forgot his umbrella, but as much as he complained to everyone else, he didn’t say a word to you and Tooru) 

The boys (like Bakugou) are a bit less wing-man-y, but they certainly are rooting for you! 

If Tooru wants to know your favourite colour, then chances are, Midoriya’s got it in his brain somewhere. 

If she needs help cooking your favourite meal, then Bakugou will bitch and whine while making sure she measures flour properly. 

And if she’s going on her first date? You bet your ass that Aoyama will be there, styling her. 

So when they see you two kiss for the first time (Tooru wore lipstick to make it easier to aim) everyone went ballistic. 

‘Fucking finally!’ 

‘Go Tooru-chan!!’ 

‘Congrats, kero.’ 

#3 is...Todoroki! 

j

Jealous boy 

He wants to be popular 

He noticed you after the sports festival (of course) 

And sees that you’re a little social butterfly. 

He wants what you have

You have all these people that flock to you for friendships, and you’re always smiling and goofing off

And yet you have fantastic grades 

So with a determined huff, he decides 

He’s gonna ask you to coach him in being a young socialite. 

So when he approaches you he feels really daunted 

You’ve got this crowd of people around you (in his eyes) 

And he thinks that you wouldn’t even notice him, probably 

However he forgets 

He is a half white half red angsty bastard who everyone saw and instantly parted like the red sea for 

So all you guys see is him glaring down at you

And you’re like ‘😰  whoop guess this is where i die” 

Someone’s asking if they can be in your will when Todoroki starts talking 

‘You’re loud. And friendly.’ 

Everyone’s expecting him to blast you to the moon for being loud 

When he goes into a ninety-degree bow

‘Please teach me, sensei.’ 

Everyone’s like the pic i sent you of Bibble 

It’s just AWESTRUCK

And  you’re like ‘ohh, you don’t wanna kill me? Dope!’ 

And that’s where his lessons begin 

You start off with telling him that his resting face made him look either constipated or pissed 

So he starts working on making sure that people know he has no ill intent 

And slowly but surely 

People approach him with invitations to parties for he himself to go to, not as a Todoroki, but as Shoto

And he’s absolutely ecstatic

He thanks you endlessly

But naturally this leads to something or the other for him

Because you gave him the chance he needed to be a teenager, for once 

And gradually he realises 

That’s he’s gotten a crush on you 

Now 

He’s a bit afraid, because he’s not had any good role models in terms of love

And baby boy doesn’t want to lose your friendship and trust if it doesn’t turn out 

He does get jealous 

But doesn’t say anything 

He just stares 

And at one point, after a cute Support student tried panning over their number, you notice todoroki staring at the ground, looking angry

You go up to him

‘Hey, are you okay? You look kinda upset.’ 

His head snaps up and he’s blinking down at you 

And he just feels really conflicted 

Because he assumed that it would be better if you just remained as friends for right now 

And that the best route would be just to keep you in his heart 

But when you look at him like that, he snaps 

‘May i talk to you in private?’ 

‘Sure. Is everything alright?’ You’ve got a nervous smile on your face as he drags you outside 

And once out there he just spills his heart out 

‘I understand that you and I are friends, and you are one of my closest friends. However, I’ve found myself feeling...different around you. I want to hug you, and ward off anyone that tries talking to you with romantic interest. When I first met you, I was jealous that you were so popular and kind, and that everyone loved you for who you were. But as you showed me more and more about how to be normal, I started getting jealous of everyone else, that they could be-’ 

And he goes on this speil and the entire time he is this 🤏 close to crying 

And he starts talking about his mother and how he’s scared he’s gonna end up the same way if he dates you 

You don’t want to cut him off

But he’s going on and on and on pouring out his emotions

So when he takes a second to catch his breath, you pop in 

‘I’m glad you’re talking to me, but I like you too. Hopefully, you’ll stop stressing a bit.’ 

And todoroki short circuits. 

He takes a second 

Blinks

And then blinks again

Before smothering you in a hug as he lets a tear or two fall onto your shoulder 

And you two stand there for definitely longer than you should’ve 

Present Mic actually comes looking for you two because classes started again

And from behind Todoroki’s back, you give Present Mic a thumbs up before gesturing to your other hand rubbing his back and then his gently crying 

Present Mic gives a big ol grin before turning a corner, waiting for you two to be done 

(you’re lucky it was present mic, or else you two would’ve been physically ripped apart) 

@deer-skull2319

[imgilmoregirl]

A Rose of the Forbidden Love

AO3 Link

Chapter 5

“Pregnant?” Father Gold repeated, astonished.

Rosalie pulled away from him, wiping the corners of her eyes, although it seemed worthless, because the tears kept falling. Her whole face had flushed into a bright pink tone and she was visibly shaking. Gold couldn’t believe it, he thought he had found his daughter in time, that he could still do some good in her life, but there she was, crying over the fact she was going to have a child, and he needed to admit to himself, she was never going to be a little girl anymore. She was a woman and soon she would be a mother.

“I know,” Rose mumbled behind her tears, “I’m an idiot.”

“Oh, Rose, you’re not an idiot,” he assured her, brushing some curls away from her face. “Who is the father?”

She took a deep breath and one of the hands that had been helplessly twisting the handle of her purse came up to cover her belly. His glance fell to her middle-section, watching as she mindlessly caressed her own stomach, eyes lost in an invisible point at the altar of the church.

“My ex-boyfriend, Roland.”

“Have you already told him?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I was going to, but then he broke up with me and said he had a fiancée this whole time.”

He felt his jaw tightening as he thought if he found that boy he would make him pay for fooling his daughter and impregnating her, but then he remembered he couldn’t do it, both because nobody knew he was Rose’s father and second because despite of it he was still a priest and he should be stronger than that and not give in to his anger. But it didn’t mean it wasn’t still there, making him feel like his blood was boiling in his veins.

However, before thinking about his own feelings, he needed to consider Rosalie’s and remember what happened with her because of his irresponsibility. He couldn’t let the same happen to his grandchild. Fiancée or not, this boy Roland needed to be involved, or at least have the chance to.

“My sweet child, you need to tell him. He has the right to know.”

“No, Father, he lost the right of knowing about it, by the moment he confessed he played with me.”

This new tone of voice, Gold had never seen Rosalie speaking with before and he shivered to think it sounded just like Belle, when she was being bitter.

“Rose…” he whispered, petting her hair very gently. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” the girl admitted. “I can’t have a child right now, I’ll ruin my entire career.”

His eyes got wild and he swallowed hard. She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was saying. Gold couldn’t allow her to make such mistake. Yes, maybe it was not the right time to have a child, nor the best circumstances, but it was still a whole person and he knew Rose was good and would regret if she got rid of it.

“Are you thinking about - ” he started, unable to finish the sentence.

That was when she suddenly stood up, holding the purse close to her chest as if it was a shield. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and he wanted more than never to tell her he was her father and he would never let her or his grandchild wish for nothing. Assure her that everything would be fine, because he would take care of them. But yet, he couldn’t do it, because of Fiona.

“I need time to think,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes.

“You need to calm yourself down,” he corrected. “Come with me, let’s get some cookies and warm milk.”

“No, thank you. I need to go home and solve this on my own.”

Rose glanced quickly at him, before making her way out of the church still crying and not knowing what to do.

Not all make in the world could manage to erase completely the dark circles caused by a bad night of sleep, from her eyes, but Rose did her best and went to work in the next morning, hoping it would help to clear her mind. She felt weird, not being alone wherever she went anymore, knowing the child was there, still too small to be noticed, but just waiting to change her whole life.

A little chaos seemed to have been installed at the company that day, something about the Italian fabric for the dresses of the next fashion show being late, so Rose spent the day, watching the other models freaking out as Alice prepared her for a photoshoot. It was almost noon when she sent him to Robin’s office to ask for Gideon and Rosalie found her chief arguing with his wife. She almost stepped back, trying to pass unnoticed, fearing they would yell at her like Belle used to do, but Regina saw her first.

“What do you want Rose?”

“Alice asked me to check if her brother wasn’t here,” she promptly said.

“Care to check on the office next to mine?” Regina asked. “My youngest son is back to the company and Gideon can be helping him settling some things.”

She nodded, obediently and closed the door behind her. Rosalie didn’t know anything about Robin and Regina’s youngest boy other than he studied abroad and had spent some time doing an internship in England, nothing else, but she hoped he was nice as Henry. What Rose wasn’t expecting to find, when she opened the door of his office, however was the scene in front of her.

Kissing people usually didn’t bother her, but today it made her stomach twist and a strong nausea hit her hard. Because there, in the company, was Roland with a beautiful short-haired girl. When he saw Rose, Roland immediately pulled away from the her, his cheeks burning with colour.

“Rose…”

“Roland de Locksley,” she said slowly, eyes burning with unshed tears. “You never fail in surprising me. I suppose this is your fiancée.”

Her head was spinning and she felt as if she could faint at any second. The father of her child was also the son of one of the most powerful couples in town. He was rich and owned the place where she worked – and worse – he knew she worked there this whole time and he hadn’t said a thing. Another proof of how he only saw her as a stupid distraction.

“I’m Ivy Belfrey,” the girl presented herself. “And you must be the start of the company. I’ve seen you in a lot of magazines lately, but I think you should quit the carbs. You’re looking slightly fatter than you seemed to be in the pics. Or maybe it is just the photoshop.”

No, it is actually the baby, she thought, noticing that Ivy looked way more pregnant than her, although she bet the girl shouldn’t be much long into her pregnancy too.

“Yeah, photoshop helps a lot,” Rose murmured. “I was looking for Gideon, but I see he isn’t here, so if you excuse me, I still need to find him.”

She bit down on her lower lip with such strength as she turned on her heels that Rose quickly felt the taste of blood in her mouth, but the physical pain was nothing compared to how much her heart ached in that moment.

Belle moved the pencil through the white paper, creating soft lines as she started to put her ideas into a picture. She was trying to relax, but there were too many things in her mind right now and the delay of the fabrics they so needed didn’t help with getting her in a better mood, nor did the fact the person who just knocked on her door was a rather unwanted guest.

Pulling the pencil and paper aside, she stood up looking directly at the priest as she moved to seat on the huge pink chaise in the middle of her office, tapping a hand to the empty seat beside her in an invitation that he took with some hesitance. She crossed one leg oved the over the other and watched as he sat, uncomfortably there, gaze fixed in his own hands.

“You’re here again.”

“Aye, I’m sorry if I keep bothering you,” Gold started with a sigh, “but I needed to tell you something, Belle.”

“Well, speak then.”

He pressed his hands more firmly together, breathing in and out a couple of times, trying to steady his heart, but she was too close to him and the fact that he had come there with a secret burning on the tip of his tongue didn’t help to keep him calm either.

“I know who our daughter is,” the priest finally confessed.

Belle’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes getting wide as she laid a hand on his thigh to get his full attention.

“You’ve found her?”

“Yes,” Father Gold confirmed. “But I’m sorry, I can’t tell you. It was a secret revealed to me in a confession.”

The hope that had suddenly settled lightly on her chest vanished with those simple words. She knew the church’s rules very well. Adam was not just a religious man, he was priest, and his vows were like a weight on his back, chaining him to a strict law he was fated to obey.

“You must be joking,” Belle exclaimed, angrily. “I have the right to know. I’ve spent years trying to find her!”

“I know, sweetheart, but I can’t say anything.”

“It is unfair,” she murmured, shaking her head. “You came here just to hurt me.”

“No,” Gold assured her, taking Belle’s hands in his and coming a bit closer. “I’m in pain too. I can’t tell her, just as I can’t tell you.”

She saw in his eyes that he was telling her the truth, he was suffering and maybe even more than her, because he knew who their daughter was, he could look at her with the weight of this knowledge and do nothing about it.

“Oh, Adam…” Belle whispered, her face approaching his as she allowed their noses to touch very slightly. “What have we done with our lives?”

For a moment, she thought he would lean forward and kiss her, but then they heard he commotion outside and Adam pulled away, looking at the door with a frown on his face.

“What is it?”

Rosalie was still trying to recompose herself, when the sounds of an argument reached her, but it wouldn’t be much of a surprise for her as everything people did there the whole day was yelling at each other, however when Regina appeared dragging a girl by her arm to the main hall with Henry following them and begging his mother to realise that woman, she noticed things definitely weren’t right.

“This bitch will get the hell out of here,” Regina was saying to her son, hand still wrapped tightly around the girl’s arm.

“Jacinda?” Rose blinked, recognizing her friend and wanting to bang her head against a wall for how stupid she had been. Jacinda should have never come there, but that doesn’t mean Rose was willing to let anybody hurt hear. She stepped forward looking at Regina as if she was mad. “Hey, what are you doing with her?”

Regina looked between the two of them in disbelief. Certainly, the last thing she was expecting was for someone in there other than Henry to stood up to the bartender.

“Do you know this woman, Rose?”

“Yeah, she is my roommate.”

At this point, people had started to gather around them and Rose could see Roland with his fiancée, Ivy standing near one of the opened doors, a mask of shock pulled on in their faces. She saw when Belle and Father Gold came from her office and for a quick second, she wondered why he was there so often.

“This girl was hooking up with my boy,” Regina said still incredulously, but also full of anger. She looked up at Jacinda’s face and yelled: “He is better than you. I’m not standing this.”

“Let her go,” she insisted.

Jacinda made a scared noise of pain as the other woman’s nails dig into her skin and Rosalie didn’t think twice before coming up between them, trying to free her friend. There was a violent push and pull and when Regina finally freed Jacinda the two of them fell to the floor. Rosalie groaned as she sat up again, Father Gold rushing to kneel by her side with wide scared eyes.

“Rose, are you alright, child?” The priest asked, touching her still flat belly. “Are you in pain?”

“No, I’m fine,” she answered, pulling away from him, before anybody could notice his distress and rose on her feet, stretching out a hand to Jacinda to help her doing the same.

“Take this sick friend of yours from here,” Belle French told her in harsh tone, blue eyes narrowing dangerously. “And in the next time I see her around, you’re fired.”

Nodding in agreement, Rosalie dragged Jacinda outside, knowing nobody would ever look at her the same way before today.

Sunday morning after the mass, Rose stayed on her bench until everybody was gone and only the priest was left, setting things in place with some kind of calmness she would never have. The girl approached him very slowly, almost hesitant, feeling rather shameful for being at the church even after she had given herself willing to a guy she met at a bar.

“Father Gold?”

He turned around, a small smile appearing on his lips at the sight of her. The last time they had seen each other was in the middle of that big mess at the company. Not exactly the best circumstances.

“I was wondering if you were really fine after what happened.”

“I am,” she whispered, then took a long breath and paused her hands above her stomach, taking the needed courage to speak up. “I thought you would like to know that I decided to keep the baby.”

He opened his arms and hugged her tightly. Rose never had a father, but she never before felt more like a daughter than she did in his presence and his approval was very important to her.

“That was the right decision, child,” the priest guaranteed her. “You can always come to me if you ever need anything.”

She didn’t move or said anything, because those words were exactly the ones she needed to hear and she wanted to feel safe in his arms just for a while more.

[itsdjjones]

When We Met | Dominer

TAGGING: @notpeterxparker & @itsdjjones

DATE: Freshman in high school ~ 2008/2009

PLACE: Lima, Ohio

NOTES: Flashback to when Parker and DJ met back in high school. 

Parker adjusted her camera as she walked towards the football field and furrowed her eyebrows before she glanced into her bag. She let out a sigh of relief once she saw the two extra rolls of film, knowing that her advisor would've gotten her head if she had left them in her locker again. She closed her bag as she reached the football coach with a smile. "Hey coach, I'm here to take some pictures for the paper." She heard him grumble go ahead and make sure to get the best view of the team, including the wide receiver and the quarterback. She tried not to roll her eyes, knowing that she couldn't ask why she had to take separate pictures. She started taking pictures, moving out of the way once in a while, making sure she wasn't tackle. She happened to get a few shots of her sister before she noticed, not something but someone. She lowered her camera as she squinted before she glanced at the coach and headed towards it. She pulled out her camera, took a few pictures of what was happening and glad to be the one who develops the film. "Excuse me, I was wondering if you knew where the football field was at?" She asked loud enough for them to hear.

DJ couldn't resist when one of the cheerleaders was eyeing him at football practice. And he couldn't resist lying to coach that he'd be in the bathroom. And he couldn't resist when that girl followed him and pushed him behind the bleachers with lips like an angel. I mean if he had to chose between football and a girl it was a no brainer. Sure football was great and it had made him a lot more popular than being in book club did but it was the girls attention that he liked the most. He quickly became that hot nerdy football player. The cheerleader didn't waste anytime with smacking on him but it didn't last long when he heard a voice behind him. He pulled away from the girl's lips and turned around. "What?" He asked. The girl looked at him and walked away, quickly slipping a piece of paper in his hands, presumably her number. It was common nowadays for DJ to get those digits. "Did you just ask where the football field was...are blind?" He asked looking at the unfamiliar girl that just cockblocked him. "Also you owe me for that interruption" he said nodding towards the cheerleader who had left.

Parker took a picture of his confused face and smirked a bit. She waved goodbye to one of the cheerleaders as she leaned against the structure as she crossed her arms around her body. "It work, didn't it?" She asked and shook her head as she glanced at the pictures before she glanced up to see him. "Oh no, a make out session with one of the cheerleaders, how can I ever live." She placed her hand on her heart and then looked at him. "You owe me for taking pictures of you in action. Though, Im sure your coach would love to see these pictures of you two swapping spit. I think they would look beautiful in the newspaper." She knew that she wasn't going to put them in the newspaper or in the yearbook.

DJ raised an eyebrow at her and he clearly had an annoyed look on his face when she snapped a picture of him. "Hey what no!" he said realizing why she was taking pictures. He walked towards her to reach for the camera. "You cannot show anyone those. Pretty sure that girl has a boyfriend" he said looking out at the field between the bleachers. "Can...can you just delete them...please?" he asked arms open wide in defeat. "Why do you care anyways?" He asked. "I dont even know you and you're being rude."

Parker raised an eyebrow as she put the camera behind her back and raised an eyebrow. "Yet, you still decide to make out with her. Hm. Interesting." She replied as she placed her camera in her bag, crossed her arms across her chest and thinking a bit. "Maybe and I care because I was sent out to take pictures of the Quarterback and the wide receiver, which is you because we're doing a spotlight story on the football team in the newspaper and I can't do it with you making out underneath here." She slowly nodded as she pushed herself off of the bleacher. "Because I actually care about my football team and how great they'll do this season. No, what would be rude of me thing to do, is to publish those pictures. After you told me nicely. You're being rude for thinking with your head below the belt instead of thinking what scouts would be at the games and actually getting out of here." She turned on her heel and started leaving the bleachers.

DJ shrugged. "Not my problem." he said. "Yeah well Im pretty sure they wanted pictures of practice not here" he said raising his eyebrows back at her. "Oh really? You care about the football team?" he asked. "Besides...you know...kissing girls isn't gonna make me play worse..honestly it might make me play better." He chuckled to himself. DJ sighed. "Hey wait up" he said following after her. He walked out from the bleachers with her and he moved in front of her. "I'm DJ" He said with a nodding gesture. "I mean we might as well get to know each other if you're gonna get such intimate pics of me" he winked, flirting with her immediately.

Parker "It'll be your problem once her boyfriend finds out and gives you a black eye." Parker pointed out and rolled her eyes as he talked. "I do, actually." She shook her head. "We'll see about that, since if I recall, it might distract you." She started to walk towards the practice field and shield her eyes from the sun. "I know. Im Parker." She stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure. Believe me, Im not going to get anymore intimate pics of you. Im here to take pictures, not to flirt with the wide receiver. Nice try though." She patted him on his chest and pulled out her camera once more.

DJ shrugged. "Well the only people that know are you...me and her. So how about we spare my eye today huh?" he asked her. DJ raised his eyebrows at her and he laughed. She was definitely something else. He's never met a girl like her and immediately he was drawn to the girl. "It was worth a try." He said. DJ looked at her one last time before running off towards the field again finishing practice. The next day in English class they were working on a project for their Romeo and Juliet unit. You could work in pairs and DJ didn't really have anyone in that class. That's when he saw her across the room. Parker he remembered her name. When everyone was shuffling off and pairing up DJ moved across the room and sat next to her. "Hey, be my partner?" He asked.

Parker nodded. "Yeah, we can." She replied and "Maybe next time." She shouted as he ran off towards the field again. Parker wasn't looking forward towards the Romeo and Juliet unit, since she knew about the play and had done research over the summer. She had friends sure, but she knew that they would work together and leave her be the third wheel. She glanced up from her book and glanced over at him. "Sure." She gave him a small smile and gotten the papers together for them.

DJ smirked and he got out the book and the worksheet they were supposed to be working on. "Plus you know you still owe me" he nodded speaking about the other day at practice. He looked down at the sheet of paper and then back up at her. "Do people ever tell you that you have the same name as Peter Parker?" He asked. "I mean obviously your names not Peter but...you know what I mean" He laughed.

Parker raised an eyebrow. "It depends on what you mean that I owe you." She replied as she wrote her name on the worksheet and flipped her book up to the page that the worksheet had said. She smiled, she didn't know why but it just made her smile. She mentally slapped herself. "You know, you have to be first person outside of my family to get that." She answered as she glanced at him. "I do, and it gets better. My middle name is Gwen, so its almost a would've been a dream come true if Gwen didn't die and she could've been Gwen Stacy Parker. We will never know."

DJ laughed. "Really?" he asked. "I thought it was obvious. Wait your name is Parker Gwen..." he glanced at her paper to see her last name. "Fabray?" he asked. "Kind disappointed that your last name isn't stacy or Peter." he teased her. "Thats cool though. I'm not named after anyone. Well..James is my grandpa's name" he nodded. "That's my middle name and the J in DJ" he nodded. "It's Dominic" He said before she could ask. He looked down at his paper and smiled back at her. They talked all class about Spiderman and other super heros. She was a big nerd as much as he was...maybe even more. But she was cute and DJ didn't feel like he had to hit on her though. It was easy to talk to her. When class ended he packed up his backpack. "Wanna sit with me at lunch?" He asked.

Parker nodded. "Really." She replied and shook her head. "Yeah, Fabray." She let out a sigh and nodded once more. "Same, honestly. I might end up changing my last name when Im old enough." She smiled, as she crossed her leg over her other leg, thankful she was wearing a dress. "Thank you and that's awesome." She made an oh face and gave him a smile. "Dominic is a nice name." She piped up and returned the smile as well. She felt even more relaxed around him. She packed up her bag and looked at him. "Sure, yeah." She led them out of the classroom and towards the lunch room. "So,do you like being called DJ or Dominic?"

DJ "Yeah that would be cool" he shrugged. DJ nodded. "Thanks" He did a little victory dance in her head. He realized he didn't have to hit on her to get her to like him. They walked together towards the lunch room and he adjusted the backpack on one shoulder and pushed some of his braids out of his face. "Most people call me DJ." he nodded. "Mom called me Dominic but I like either of them. I will answer to both" he said as they got in line. DJ said hi to some guys from the team as they walked by, giving them that typical bro handshake and pat on the back. He caught back up with Parker and smiled. "Football" he explained. "So you take pictures for the newspaper do you take pictures of anything else?" He asked.

Parker nodded. "You're welcome." She replied as she watched him pushed some of his brads out of his face. "Ah, okay. Well, how about for now. I'll call you DJ until we get to know each other better?" She questioned as they gotten in line. She pulled out her phone, not seeing anything from her sister and put her phone back into her backpack when she heard DJ come back. "I had a feeling, but wasn't for sure." She matched his smile and nodded before she hummed a bit. "Yeah, I do actually. Im trying to build up my portfolio, that way once I have enough pictures, i can send it off to colleges. That way my name would be out there." She moved with the line as she continued to look at him. "Do you pull your braids back in a ponytail to make sure they don't get in the way of you seeing?"

DJ nodded as he listened to her talk about her future plans. It was nice to see a girl that knew what she wanted. DJ was still figuring it out but he knew he wanted to do something with kids. "That's really cool. You'll have to show me some pictures sometime...just you know preferably not me kissing some other girls." DJ chuckled. He got the food in line and sat down with her at an empty table. He raised his eyebrows at her question, something he'd never been asked before. "Yeah sometimes" he said with a smirk on his face and a fork in his hands. "Do you put your hair up when you can't see?" he asked.

Parker smiled as she laughed and nodded. "Good because those are kind of gone anyway." She replied and thanked the lunch ladies as she grabbed her food. She took off her bag once she sat down and hoped that her question was okay. She didn't want to ruin anything between them, even thought they met the other day. She felt her cheeks redden and realized how she formed the question before she heard him ask the same question. "Yeah, sometimes." She repeated with a smirk and took a drink of her water. "So, how come football?"

DJ looked at her and smirked. He started to eat his food when she asked another question. "I like it." he said. "I mean I've always liked football and I wanted something to fall back on in the future possibly." DJ shrugged. "Mostly its just fun. I don't care that much about if we win or lose...unlike you though who's super school spirit" he joked. "Did you ever think about becoming a cheerleader?" he laughed, teasing her a bit but all in good fun. He hoped that she didn't get mad at him for joking with her. "Plus the ladies love the uniform" He winked at her playfully.

Parker took a bite out of her food and chewed as he talked then nodded, knowing what he had meant. She smiled after she swallowed her food and took a quick sip. "Im sorry, but I want our football team to actually win some games." She replied and shook her head. "Nooo, that's my twin sister's area. She's the cheerleader in the family, Im comfortable on the sidelines." She laughed and knew that she couldnt pull of the cheerleading look like Quinn did. She saw his wink and shrugged. "Well you do have a receiver's ass."

DJ raised his eyebrows. "You have a twin sister?" he asked. "There's two of you babes walking around here?" He laughed. "No but I wanna win too it's just not as important. I rather be in class. I really like English" he nodded. DJ took a bite. "You should come to a game sometime" he said with a mouthful. He almost choked when he took a drink of water. "I'm assuming that's a good thing?" he asked. DJ smirked at her. She was fun and he already knew they were going to be good friends.

Parker "Yeah, same features except her hair is in a high pony while my hair is down and she's in a Cheerios uniform and Im in street clothes." Parker replied as she popped a chip into her mouth before she offered him some. "That's good because you picked the right partner for the unit." She shrugged a bit as she took a drink and swallowed her water. "Yeah, its a good thing. That means you have a great ass." She smirked. It felt natural to have fun with him, which was something that she always struggled with.

DJ nodded. "I see" He reached into the bag of chips she had and took one. "Oh really? Are you really into Shakespeare? Pretty sure we are reading A Midsummer Nights Dream next." He licked his lips at her comment and shook his head. He wasn't even gonna go there with her right now because he wanted so say so many things but held his tongue. "Thanks" he said simply. DJ offered her some of his oreo cookies that he had grabbed. "So what other classes are you taking?" he asked.

Parker took another chip after he did and nodded. "Mhm." She replied before she ate her chip, thought about the question. "I like Shakespeare, I wouldn't say that Im /into/ like a lot of my other friends but I enjoy it. What about you?" She nodded as she confirmed the next play and swallowed hard, knowing that she pushed it to far and gave him a small smile. "You're welcome." She thanked him as she took an Oreo from him and chewed it as she thought about her classes. "Trig, European history, photography, French, art and of course English. What about you?"

DJ shrugged his shoulders. "I like his poems more than his plays." He nodded. "But I'm not super into him either. I much rather read something else for English. I love talking about the symbolism of stories. Great Gatsby is amazing and I've always loved that book. Also Harry Potter of course!" he laughed. "And Star Wars. I don't think people realize that those are also books." He paused for a moment. "I like reading" he nodded. DJ listened to her classes. "Oh dang Trig already? Are you with like a bunch of juniors and seniors?" he asked. "I'm just in Algebra right now." He shrugged. "Also taking Child Development, Spanish, Bio, African American History, and English of course." he smiled.

Parker nodded, knowing that she agreed with him, the poems were better in some aspect. "What's your favorite?" She asked as she carefully crossed her leg over the other one and made sure her dress stayed down before she glanced at him. "Its a great book, actually. I think I have at least two copies. One copy in my car and one copy that's on my bookshelf. I finished the series less than a week I swear. Have you sorted yourself into a Hogwarts house yet?" She asked as she pushed away her food a bit so she leaned forward some. "And they're really good. Have you read the one where Han and Leia has twins and they're going to this dark academy?" She smiled when he said that he liked reading. "Yeah, its kind of weird actually. I've been meaning to switch my math class." She listened and smiled. "Sounds like you have a full plate and I thought I did with my classes."

DJ looked at her and he recited his favorite Shakespeare poem by memory. "Love is not love which alters it when alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering bark whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out, even to the edge of doom." He finished and smiled at her. "So yeah that one." He licked his lips. "Really? That's pretty intense. I don't know if I can read that fast. Those are big books!" he laughed. "I haven't. Have you?" He asked curiously. "Yeah I did read that! Star Wars changed my life I swear to god!" he said laughing. "Naw I mean if you like math just do it so you wont have to take any more math except like calc maybe?" he shrugged. "I'm an overachiever."

Parker felt herself grin from ear to ear, knowing that she was swooning but she couldnt help it and listened to him. "Im impressed, sonnet 116." She finally said once he was done and nodded."Oh yeah, they are, but they're totally worht it." She shook her head. "Nope, I haven't had the time, really to sit down and sort myself on Pottermore but if I would either sort myself into a house, it would be Ravenclaw." She laughed as she nodded. "Same! Maybe the original series, not the newest ones." She tucked a piece of her blond hair behind her ear and nodded. "True." She shrugged a bit. "I had a feeling."

DJ laughed. "I told you I liked to read. Helps that I have a really good memory too" he smiled at her. "I can see that. You'd be a great Ravenclaw. Personally I'd love to be Hufflepuff but I dont know" he shrugged. "We should totally do that because now I'm curious" He smiled. "Oh yeah definitely. No one likes the new ones" he said shaking his head. He watched her and smiled. For some reason DJ had this overwhelming need to protect her. Not in like a couple way but not really like in a family kind of way. More like in a way that this was his friend and he didn't want anyone to hurt her and he wanted to hype up how awesome she was. He smiled at her as he finished her food and the bell rang. "Text me or something" he said as he got a sharpie out from his backpack and wrote on a piece of paper for her. "We should hang out"

Parker laughed a bit. "I know and I would definiltey say so." She replied as she returned the smile and dipped her head a bit when she heard him agreeing. "Thank you and I would say Hufflepuff for sure." She looked up at him and nodded. "Sounds like a great plan, maybe we can use one of the school's computer's?" She shook her head, took a sip of her water and swallowed it. "No." She felt herself become somehow attached to him, not like in a couple's way but something else. She returned the smile after she glanced at her watch. "Okay." She watched him grab a sharpie and watched him wrote down his number. "I'd like that and here," She grabbed a pen from her bag and grabbed his hand, wrote down her number on it. 'That way you have my number too."

DJ nodded. "yeah we could do that." He smiled. DJ looked at her write her number on his hand and he smirked. "Cool" He stood up and put his backpack on. "I'll see you around then" he smirked. It was the beginning of an endless friendship. Throughout high school they became attached at the hip and eventually rumors went around that they were dating but it was never true. They flirted a lot but it was nothing more than that. Things got complicated when Parker decided to move out of her house. They were best friends so obviously he begged his mom to let her stay. It was a messy situation but eventually led to Parker living in the Jones' house for a couple years and even then they were still best friends. She was his person and he was hers. It was always Parker and Dominic against the world. It's not for sure when they fell in love but maybe it was back then. Maybe this was building up for years and now they were finally facing it because even now its still always been Parks and Dominic against the world.