#But knowing me maybe it's going to end in the unfinished notes in my phone

[noemilivv]

Heelloooo I am in need of husk fics 😔

Can you write one where the reader is one of the hellborn who happens to be the right hand and daughter figure of Fizz and Ozzie? Like she was sent to handle official business on Pride ring and happens to see this "Redemption" campaign from none other than the Princess of Hell whom she recalled was previously part of your circle when you were both younger.

So, she comes to the hotel unannounced and sees a familiar face (not charlie's) but Husks! As we know, Lust is a ring that legally allows demons to dwell with humans. When the reader was younger like 20s (I'm convinced Charlie and Lucifer are CENTURIES old- like the reader) she went up and met Husk when he was alive had this unfinished business as lovers. She wouldn't dare let him fall to hell and left him with her unanswered origins and surprise surprise Charlie and Lucifer was busy for a talk in his office and Husk was left to deal with the reader- and slowly had a talk over the bar about his runaway 'lover'.

All comes into place as he realizes who he was talking to. (Maybe angst to fluff?)

I'm so sorry if this is so long TT thanks for reading still!

ofcc ! here ya go, friend :)

i did have to take out some of the details becuz there’s a few loopholes so i hope that’s ok!!

Husk x Past Lover!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

You were helping set up for a performance for your friend Fizz, as you went to go set up a nearby table, a poster that read ‘Redeem yourself here, at the Hazbin Hotel!’ caught your eye.

You made a mental note to look into that within the next few days.

You looked into it. Maybe this whole redemption thing is worth a shot, it’s better than having to deal with the exterminations every year.

You knocked on the door, and who you knew as Lucifer’s daughter answered moments after, eagerly.

“Hello!” She said with a massive grin on her face, as a shorter woman stood behind her.

“Hi — I saw this,” You started, showing her the poster, ���While at work, and it peaked my interest, so I was wondering if I could drop in for awhile?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Ohhmigosh, of course!” She had, stepping aside to let you in.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I’m Charlie, by the way — I didn’t catch your name?” She said.

“Oh, it’s (Y/N).” You answered.

“Oh, well nice to meet you, (Y/N)!” She grinned before beginning to introduce you to all the staff.

“This is Angel, and that’s Husk!”

You stopped for a moment. I mean, surely that’s not who you thought it was. You could swear that was your boyfriend from when you were alive.

You and Husk had dated back when you were alive, it didn’t end badly, a sort of ‘right person, wrong time’ deal.

He glanced over at you, squinting to see if it was really you, before going wide-eyed, then he turned back to Angel. Yep, that’s him.

Charlie looked down at her phone before looking at you, “I have some business to attend to with my father, I’ll be back momentarily to show you your room!” She said with a polite smile. “Thank you so much again, I hope you enjoy your stay!” She said before walking away.

You and Husk made eye contact, as he motioned to a secluded section of the hotel, you followed him down the hall.

“Is it really you?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You both mutually leaned in for a semi-awkward hug as friends?? Lovers?? Acquaintances?? Who knows now.

Husk pulled away, a paw still on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s been a few years since we’ve seen eachother, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try again, we can go slow.. I’m in no rush for this shit.” He proposed with a dry chuckle. “How about a drink?”

“Yeah…” You said. “A drink sounds nice.”

[saltwaterburns]

even my phone misses your call, by the way

Summary: Elle knows perfectly well that it's a bad idea and that she'll probably regret it when she sobers up, but she still picks up her phone and dials the number of the one she misses the most - you.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of a slightly graphic event that happened to the reader, allusions to smut, a few y/n's, no happy ending (for now?)

Author's note: It's day 3 of me watching season 2 after Elle left and it's safe to say that I'm still incredibly wounded, so what better way to project my feelings onto everyone else than writing this! :D For a girl who hates reading angst I sure do love writing it, so buckle up. I'm dedicating this to @bbbbadoobee i hope u like it pls dont hate me

Word count: 4,4k+

Elle knows she shouldn't. She left the BAU for a reason, and it's late. She glances at the clock on the wall, wincing as the time reads close to 3am. But as she sits in her bleak living room, her third bottle of vodka sitting unfinished on the table right next to her phone, she doesn't care about making good decisions. She's lonely. Desperate.

Leaving didn't make her feel any better. She's been lonely for years. She found a home within the BAU, and she doesn't think she'll ever be able to get over it. Get over her team, that at one point became her family.

She's drunk, and she's tired. She should go to bed. Instead, she picks up her phone, and calls you. She misses your voice the most.

It's been years. She doubts you'll answer. She listens to how her phone calls once, then twice, and on the third time when you pick up, she relaxes. "Y/n...it- it's me."

"...Elle?" You ask groggily, sitting up on your bed and trying to rub the sleep away from your eyes with the back of your hand. Wait, what? Elle? You voice your thought.

"Wait, what? Elle? Elle Greenaway?"

Her heart immediately lurches towards you at the sound of your sleep-ridden voice. She can see you so clearly in her minds eye, how you're sitting on your bed, the strap of your sleep top falling off your shoulder, how the freckles painted on your skin form constellations, the same ones she used to trace with her lips.

"Surprise, I guess." Elle responds, her tone a bit off in attempt to seem casual. Her heart is racing right now, but her voice remains steady. "Did I wake you?"

You stay silent for a beat. You don't notice it at first, but the hand you just used to pull the blanket tighter around you and now is resting on your lap is shaking. You can feel your throat constricting and your eyes beginning to sting, both from the lack of sleep and the emotions you're feeling.

"Yeah, yeah you did, but it's fine. Is- is everything okay? I didn't know you still had my number."

Her heart sinks, hearing how off you sound. Your voice quivers a bit, and she can only imagine your face right now, probably pinched and hurt.

"Of course I do." Elle says, and her voice softens a bit. Maybe she shouldn't have called. What was she thinking would happen?

"I just..." She struggles to articulate her thoughts as she rubs a hand over her face. "I needed to hear your voice."

"I, um, I miss you, Elle. We miss you, back at the BAU," You whisper, looking up at the pale ceiling of your room, taking a deep breath to force the tears down. "How are you?"

Your question feels like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she can't speak. Because how is she actually doing?

"Oh, I..." She hesitates, and swallows the lump in her throat. "I'm...I'm fine." After a few moments, she adds sheepishly, "And I, I miss you guys too..I miss you a lot."

"Did you continue with some sort of federal work at your new um, home?" You ask as casually as possible, the word home leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, because her home should be here, with you, not wherever she is right now.

She's glad you're not prodding her for more information, asking more questions that would be too difficult for her to answer. But she does cringe a bit.

"...No." She finally replies, and her voice is more than a bit embarrassed. "I went...in a different direction."

"That's, that's good, actually. I hoped that you wouldn't. Thought that it would be better for you to leave this life behind, get a chance to heal."

A moment of silence follows that. You don't know what else to say, so you're twisting a strand of your hair around your finger as you wait. But you've always been curious, always digging a little too deep and as you're speaking to her for the first time in years, you can't help but ask.

"Are you happy, Elle?" Was you leaving us worth it?

She listens as you speak, and her heart hurts because when you say it like that, it sounds like you know what's best for her. She thinks for a moment you might tell her to come back, to heal with all of you.

But you ask her if she's happy instead.

And her heart hurts even more because it's the most difficult question you could've asked her.

"Define happy." She says, finally.

From those two words alone you know that she isn't, not fully at least. The perks of being a profiler, you suppose.

"Can you sleep without waking up in cold sweat? Have you managed to stop reaching for a gun that isn't there? Have you stopped being hypervigilant when walking on the street?"

She swallows thickly once you ask her those questions. And the fact that she can't answer any of them with a yes makes her temples ache.

"I..." Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head as if you can see it. "I don't...no. No, not really." She finally says with a sigh. "I can't sleep, I still reach for a gun, and I'm paranoid as ever that someone is after me."

You rest your forehead against your knees that you've tucked under your chest and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood to keep your tears at bay. All that pain, and and suffering and everything that she's gone through still haunts her, as if her leaving this life behind hasn't had any impact at all.

"I haven't seen you in so long. Did you grow your hair out? Or did you keep the bangs and the bob?"

"The bangs and the bob." She says, and she winces as she realizes how much she actually misses you. If she concentrates hard enough, she can almost feel the ghost of your hands playing with her hair. "I have a few more grays now, though. I'm a real old lady."

You can't help but let out laugh at that, but it comes out wet. You cringe at that. An average person might've missed it but you know that she heard and you know that she has put it together that you're crying. You cringe even more.

"I'm not the youngest anymore either, Greenaway. Sporting a few greys myself under these luscious curls. Thankfully it's not too visible."

You're right - the wetness in your laugh doesn't go unnoticed. Her eyes immediately tear up as well, and she swallows against the lump of guilt in her throat, because she knows she's the reason you're crying right now.

"Yeah, well, you're too pretty to go grey anyway." She's teases right back, but her words are also laced in bittersweetness.

"Always the charmer, huh?" You bite your lip in a smile, feeling giddy for a moment. "Is there, um, anyone special for you nowadays? Are you tied down?"

"No one special, no tied down." She says quickly, maybe too quickly for it to be casual. After a few moments of silence, she adds, hesitantly, "Is there someone special for you right now?"

You shake your head, because how could there ever be someone who isn't her in my bed and in my heart, but then you remember she can't see you so you somehow manage to utter a soft "No."

"There isn't. There hasn't been one, really, ever since you left. You're always in the back of my mind." Your voice quietens as you say the last part.

She can feel her heart start racing when you respond, her body tensing up. She can't believe what she's hearing. There's no one special in your bed, no one in your heart...not even in these last YEARS since she left?

There's this strange, overwhelming sensation that rises up in her. One part of her wants to be angry that you've wasted away waiting for her. But the other part of her, the part that has her heart racing can't help but feel happy. Hopeful.

You keep talking, not giving her a chance to say something in between. "I know what you're gonna say. I can imagine your face and your expression so clearly. You're mad that I've wasted years waiting for you, even though I knew that the chances of me ever seeing you again were close to none. But I just couldn't help it. You can't blame me for that."

She actually laughs aloud at that, because you know her so damn well. She's frustrated, because of course, you've guessed right. She doesn't want you to have waited for her, especially in vain.

She never intended to see any of you again, especially you. And of course, you couldn't help it, because that's who you are. Loyal to a fault.

"You're right, I'm pretty damn frustrated right now." She responds, and her tone is more fond than angry.

"How can you expect me to move on after what we had, Elle? After those nights in the jet? After the nights curled together under the sheets? After we've taken bullets for each other, after I've stitched you up with my bare hands and bailed you out of jail? After that night we spent together right before you left the next morning, leaving me to wake up to an empty bed?" Your voice breaks in the middle of your ramble, and you can feel the hot trails your salty tears are leaving on your cheeks.

"How can you blame me for waiting when you're the only woman I've ever loved?"

You leave her, for the first time in a while, completely speechless. Every event you name flashes before her eyes, so familiar yet so far away. There's so much she wishes she could say, but she's always been a coward when it comes to voicing what she feels.

"Why did you call me, Elle?" You ask, your voice no louder than a gust of wind. Your bed feels extra cold tonight, too large for you to sleep in it alone. You curl up on your side, clutching your phone in your hand.

Why did she call you? She asks herself the very same question, and the guilt begins to chew on her when she realises she doesn't have an answer for you.

"I...." Her voice breaks. "I don't know. I just...I wanted to hear your voice. I missed you, I guess."

Her answer is as unsatisfying as you guessed it would be. For some reason you hoped that she'd confess her own love for you as well, telling you everything you've longed to hear for all these years. But her answer is as vague as always, and the disappointment burns.

"Did you know that Gideon left, too? And that Hotch and Haley got divorced?" You ask meekly, toying with the silky sheets under you.

She knows. She hates herself for it, but she's kept tabs on all the team since she left. She knows about Gideon, about Hotchner's and Haley's divorce, about Haley's ....

Every single time she finds herself reaching for her phone, about to type in a phone number, she has to remind herself that it's healthier for her not to reach out. But each time, it has gotten more and more difficult.

Her voice comes out soft and remorseful. "Yeah, I know, I...I've heard."

Oh.

"I got taken hostage a few months ago. Barely made it out alive, was in a coma for two weeks. Did you know that?"

Her blood runs cold in her veins as you say that, her heart rate increasing immediately. Her hands begin to shake and her eyes widen.

"No. I- no, I didn't know that. You...?" Her voice falters as she begins to ask that question, and she pauses before trying to finish that sentence. "You were in a coma? What happened?"

There's something satisfying about hearing her panic, however cruel that might be. It feels good to know that she didn't reach out because she simply didn't know.

"There was a bomb. I was too close. Hit my head against a block of concrete so hard my skull fractured and my two of my ribs broke off, piercing my lungs."

The moment you say all of that, she actually feels dizzy with panic.

Imagining you lying on the floor in pain, struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive.. She can feel her nausea rising as her stomach twists.

Elle can't speak as she thinks about all of it. You could've died. She almost lost you and she wouldn't even have known. Would Garcia have told her?

"I'm okay now, though," You whisper softly with a smile, hoping that she can hear it through your voice. "Sometimes I get really bad migraines, but the doctors say I shouldn't have any other complications."

She tries to collect herself, steadying her breath as you tell her that you're okay. Mostly okay, she should say. But you're here, so that's what matters.

"Y-yeah?" She asks, her voice a bit shaky. "How long ago was this, baby?"

Baby. She always used to call you baby. It used to fill you with fluttering butterflies but now it just feels like swallowing acid.

"I think it was at the beginning of the year. It's July now, so 5 months at least." You hum in thought, counting back the months on your fingers. A car drives past your window, the lights flashing, and it feels melancholy. You can't help but let your mind wonder and imagine it's Elle, coming to see you. But she won't, you know she won't.

"Five months..." Her heart aches to think of you going through all of that, dealing with that alone, while she didn't even know. Didn't even check up on you. She hates herself for it, even more than usual. She feels like she's going to throw up.

"Y-you never, did you..?" She can't even get out her question, swallowing heavily. "...call me?"

"...I tried to. I asked Garcia if she could find any way for me to contact you, but she never managed to. You disappeared pretty good on us." You laugh a little, but there isn't any humour behind it. Just a little hurt.

Her heart sinks at your answer, and she closes her eyes in anguish. Goddamn it. Of course you tried to call her. Of course you wanted her there.

"Yeah, I..." She tries to speak, tries to find her words, but she can't. Not when she knows how badly she hurt you.

"M'sorry." She finally murmurs, a bitter feeling bubbling up her throat.

You coo at her. "It's okay, Elle. I'm fine now, aren't I? And you're on the other end of the phone. No need to fret about it now. I didn't mean to make you feel bad with all of this, by the way. I wasn't trying to rub it under your nose. I was just curious if you knew."

She swallows at that. Even now, even after she's abandoned you, left you behind, caused you pain, you're still trying to comfort her. Trying to make her feel better, trying to tell her what she wants to hear.

She doesn't know why she expected something else, but she hates it.

"You're too kind for your own damn good, you know that, Y/n?" Even saying that is hurting her.

You don't know what to say to that. You've never been good with compliments or praises of any sort, so you just blush and change the subject.

"Did you know that Spence and Morgan still talk about you? Oh, Elle would've known this and Elle would've liked that gets thrown around the office pretty often."

A faint smile tugs on her lips and a small laugh escapes her.

Thinking about Spencer and Morgan still having her in their thoughts doesn't make her feel exactly good, but it makes her feel something.

"Really now?" She asks, her voice still a bit rough from earlier, trying to mask her excitement. "What do they say about me?"

"They still value your opinion very highly, even after all this time. It wasn’t always like that, though. Your name has a lot of respect at Quantico now, but it was a very sensitive topic for a good while. You're missed....I miss you, too." I reminiscence, letting my eyes fall shut. If I try hard enough, I can pretend that she's here and that we're talking face to face, not thousands of miles apart.

"Where are you? Are you still in the US? Or did you leave?"

"I'm still in the US," She replies softly, the corner of her lips pulled back in a sad smile. "I'm in New York. I...couldn't imagine going farther than this from here."

"The Big Apple, huh? I've never been. It sounds awesome, though. I'd love to go one day as a tourist, not as a profiler. Fly economy and all that stuff." You laugh softly, turning to lay on your back.

She grins widely because the thought of you walking around New York, on a vacation, having a good time - it seems like a faraway dream to her.

"It is awesome.There's quite a bit to do, and to see. Especially for a tourist that's not on call."

The hours of the night are catching up to you and you can feel sleep pushing it’s dull claws into you, but you don't want to tell her that. Hanging up could mean never talking to her again.

"Is the subway really as dirty as they show in movies?"

She responds with a snort and an eye roll. "It's worse. Far worse."

"Yeah?" you ask, giggling quietly. "You're having hand to hand combat with the rats?"

"It feels like it, honestly," She grins at your question. "Fighting them for a seat, that is. I feel like I've seen more rats and roaches than human people."

You let out a loud laugh at that and cover your face, letting your phone drop from your hand, your heart feeling light.

A genuine laugh escapes her at that, and the sound of it surprises her. When was the last time she had laughed like that? Was it back when she had just started at Quantico?

For a moment, it feels like the years between the two of you have disappeared, and she's in your bedroom, laughing with you as the night deepens. As the noise calms down and both of your breathing returns to normal, you feel tears prickling in your eyes yet again.

"Will I ever see you again?"

Her body goes rigid at that. She was just having a good moment with you, giggling and laughing, and now...her stomach is in knots.

How could she answer your question? She wants to say "yes, of course", but that wouldn't be true. She wants to say "no, probably not", and that wouldn't be fully true either.

Instead, she swallows and says, "I-I don't know, Y/n. I don't know."

You expected that.

"Tell me that I will, Elle. Tell me that you'll be here tomorrow morning, that you knocking on my door will wake me up. Even if it’s a lie. Please tell me." You beg, a sense of urgency and desperation in your voice.

Her heart thumps wildly inside her ribcage as she listens to you. It's like her heart and mind are having a mental battle, because they want completely different things.

She wants to be there. She wants to be the one to wake you up by banging on the door, she wants to see you in all your glory, hair and clothes messed up from sleep, your cheeks puffy...she wants that more than anything in the world.

But it's not so simple. Her mind is reeling with all the reasons why this can't happen, why she shouldn’t grant you the peace of her saying it, but she can't help it. You’ve always been her vice.

"Please tell me that I'll see you tomorrow." you plead again, your voice cracking. Your heart is constricting inside your chest.

Her resolve begins to crumble at your desperation. God, you're begging her. And she can't find it in her to disappoint you.

"You'll see me tomorrow," She finds herself saying, her voice barely above a whisper. It hurts her to say it, because it's a lie. Because it won't be true come the morning, which means she's setting you up for that same disappointment she tried to avoid just now.

You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand, nodding along, feeling reassured. Kind of.

"Will you- will you hang up, now?"

She doesn't want to. She wants to keep talking to you, but she knows she's keeping you up. She can hear the tiredness that’s laced in your voice.

"Yeah..I should," She murmurs begrudgingly, her voice thick with emotion.

Your resolve breaks.

"I love you, Elle. I don't think I'll ever stop," You can't help but confess, the words feeling like shards of glass leaving your mouth.

Her heart shatters into dust when you say the words. It's the most beautiful and yet the saddest thing she's heard in years.

She knows, of course she does. She’s always known that you loved her. Back when you were sneaking around with each other, when you were convulsing around her fingers, your climax having you cramped up, the three words always fell from your lips one way or another. She just didn’t have it in her to say them herself. But now, she has to cover her mouth to stop herself from confessing the same. Her breathing wavers and her hands shake.

"Don't say that, Y/n. Don't say that," She all but begs, her voice strangled and strained.

"You know that I do. My heart is yours and yours only. You know that, too." you keep on going, your voice thick with emotion.

The words pierce her like a dagger right into the heart. She can't deny it and she can't tell you to stop, so instead, she responds with a soft, broken, "I know, I know you do. And you know that I feel the same.”

"Say it, Elle. Please? Say it properly." You plead her gently, toying with the straps of your sleep top. You suddenly notice that it's one of Elle's old shirts that she left here. You swallow back a sob.

She feels her heart beating erratically as you urge her to say the words. It's such a simple thing, just three little words. Three words that she's wanted to say to you for years, but always held back.

"I love you, Y/n," She finally confesses, her voice quavering. "God help me, I love you."

You laugh softly and close your eyes as you finally let the tears stream down your face freely. Hearing her finally say those three words was probably the most painful thing you’ll ever experience, but it feels euphoric. After all these years.

She isn't sure how to label what she’s feeling. Relief? Anguish? Saying that she loves you should make her happy, but all she feels is a deep aching pain because she knows that it isn't going to change anything. But what’s done is done. She can't take it back now, and she's just made the whole thing so much harder.

"I'm sorry," She apologizes, her voice cracking now. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I love you, I've always loved you, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, honey. You know I'll always forgive you, and this time it isn't even your fault. Thank you for loving me. I love you, too. I'm ready to hang up now, if you want. I know this can't be easy for you either."

She can't speak past the lump forming in her throat. How do you always manage to forgive her? Saying that this time it's not her fault. You're so kind, too kind. But you’ve always been like that, and she feels sick for taking advantage of that. She wouldn’t deserve you even in a million lifetimes.

"Yeah," She manages to croak. "I should go, and you have to get some sleep. It’s late."

"I don't know if you'll call me ever again, but thank you for doing it today. It feels nice, talking to you again. I missed you terribly."

Her heart breaks hearing that you think this might be the last time she ever calls, even though there’s a high possibility that it is. She wants to tell you that she'll call you again, and again and again, but she can't. She can't promise you that. She can't make you false promises, not anymore. So instead she just murmurs, "I missed you, too. Night, baby."

"G'night, Elle.." you whisper, barely audible, and press the end button. A small click sound echoes around the now eerily silent room and you let out a wail, falling on top of your pillows in sobs.

Elle can't move for a few moments after you hang up, just sitting and staring at the wall. She feels numb. Cold. Empty. Why the hell did she do that?

She can still hear the sound of you crying, it was so distinct and full of pain, even through the phone. She's the one that did that, she made you cry. It’s just like the day she left.

With a pained cry, she brings the phone down to her lap and buries her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

You don't know whether to hate or to love her for picking up that phone tonight and pressing that call button. Your heart feels strangely light after finally being able to free itself from all the emotions it’s had to carry over the years, but your soul feels terrifyingly empty. What now? You just go back to your everyday routine and pretend that tonight didn't exist?

The same thought is racing through Elle's mind. There's a small part of her that's glad she managed to hear your voice again, but everything else...god, she just made things so much harder for the both of you.

You're going to wake up tomorrow morning, and there won't be anyone at your door.

That realization, that she did that to you...it kills her. But right now, she can't undo it. What's done is done.

It's stupid, but as you lay on your cold sheets, alone yet again, falling in and out of consciousness, you can't help but hope that you’ll find her behind your front door as the morning comes.

hi please excuse the repetitive words and the medical talk idk if your ribs piercing your lungs is either survivable or puts you in a coma

[morgana-larkin]

Got a prompt messaged to me by someone who wants to remain anonymous. The prompt is: Melissa likes reader or OC that looks like Jodie. And the woman in the picture with Jodie is the reader/OCs best friend. Melissa thinks the brunette is dating reader/oc but they aren’t dating.

I had a lot of fun writing this, I’ll be honest. Also I would have had this up yesterday but audition season is here and I’ve been really busy going to those. I left this on a steamy cliffhanger, I might make a part 2. I’ll post the picture it’s referencing at the end of the fic in case you want to see it for reference. Anyways, as always not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: After I’m finished with all the prompts I currently have, I’m thinking of writing Marilyn and reader (redheads are my biggest weakness… I regret nothing)

Part 2

Blood As Green As Her Eyes

Warnings: Jealous Mel, references to smut, small not very detailed unfinished smut scene, good luck! 😉 😈

Words: 4.4k

Melissa walks into the break room and looks over to try and find you and sees you near the couch but you’re talking to someone she’s never met before. She walks a little further in and gets the tail end of the conversation.

“Alright see ya later beautiful.” You tell her.

“Right back at ya sweets.” The woman says and then leaves.

You see Melissa is there now and you go to her and sit at the table with her and Barb.

“Hello ladies.” You tell them and Barb smiles at you and Melissa glares at you.

“Who was that woman you were talking to?” She asks.

“Nicole? Oh she’s my best friend!” You say as you straighten your posture. “We’ve known each other for years. We met in high school and it was like instant connection.” You tell them excitedly.

Melissa doesn’t buy it though. With the way you talked to her and about her, it was obvious to Melissa that you’re dating her. Melissa ignores the sick feeling in her stomach.

The next morning you walk in the break room and your blonde hair is wet from the rain.

“Did you forget an umbrella hun?” Melissa asks you and you nod with a pout.

You go to sit down but then Nicole rushes in and you turn around.

“Hey you forgot your lunch on the way out. I gotta get to work but just wanted to drop it off quickly for you.” She tells you and hands you your lunch.

“Oh thanks love.” You tell her and Melissa scrunches her eyebrows. She knows you’re British, you have the accent and you told her, but the nickname threw her off.

“No problem sweets.” Nicole says and gives a quick kiss to your cheek then leaves. Melissa glares at Nicole the entire time. She clenches and unclenches her fists a few times to calm down. You put your lunch in the fridge then sit down at the table.

“Maybe I should go to the bathroom quickly and use the blow dryer to dry my hair.” You say with a chuckle and Barb laughs with you. Melissa just gives you a forced smile and you give her a confused look.

Melissa is bringing her kids to gym class that you teach. You see her and her class and you put your phone away instantly and give them a smile.

“Hey kiddos! Go on and get changed!” You tell them with a smile and they all run to the change room. You see Melissa still hanging around. “Hey, aren’t you gonna use the break to relax or whatever you do during this period?” You tell her curiously.

“No, I think I’m gonna hang around this time. Watch why they’re always so excited about gym class.” She tells you with a smile and you blush a bit.

“Alright! That’s not a problem at all! I would love for you to stay actually.” You tell her and the smallest blush makes its way to her cheeks.

“What were you doing on your phone btw? You put it away rather quickly. Are you sexting or something?” She jokes with you and you giggle.

“No! I was just texting Nicole something but it’s not as important as gym class.” You tell her and her blood boils a bit at the mention of her name. The kids start coming in with their gym clothes on and you turn to face them. “Alright guys! Today we’re playing dodgeball!” You tell them with a one clap of your hands and they all cheer. “And before we split up into teams, remember, no aiming at anyone’s face. And I’m looking at you Niyah.” You say and the girl just shrugs. Melissa goes to sit on the edge of the stage with her legs dangling off.

She watched as you picked 2 team leaders who then chooses their team. You then blow the whistle when they’re all ready with the balls in the middle of the gym. And then they all run to the middle to get a ball. You walk onto the stage and sit beside her and watch everyone. At some point, a ball comes directly at Melissa and you catch it then hand it to whoever is near you guys. You two end up talking while you still keep an eye on the kids.

And then Niyah throws a ball and hits a kid in the face and they fall. You immediately jump down and blow your whistle. “FREEZE!!!” You tell them and they all immediately stop and you run to the kid that was hit. “Niyah, we talked about this.” You tell her and she just shrugs again. You help the kid that fell to get up and make sure they’re alright. “Are you ok sweetie?” You ask very soothingly to him. He nods but looks upset. “Do you want to come sit with me and Ms Schemmenti on the stage for a bit?” You ask him and he nods again. You guide him to the stage and once he climbs up, you blow your whistle, signalling for the kids to continue the game. The boy ends up sitting in between you and Melissa and you look at his face again. “You have a small bruise forming but other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else.” You tell him and he seems upset that he got hit. “You know you’re very strong.” You tell him and he looks up at you. “You got hit in the face, fell down and you still got up.” You tell him with a smile. “That’s the mark of a strong person.” You continue and he smiles at you when you tell him that.

Melissa looks at you and sees how you are with the kids and can’t help but think of how beautiful you are, inside and out. 5 minutes later the boy asks if he can rejoin the game again and you nod at him. “Of course, you can rejoin whenever you want.” You tell him and he jumps off and runs back to the game.

You and Melissa continue talking and you notice how her hand is subtly touching your hip and you blush. The power this woman holds on you with just a touch.

In the morning the next day Melissa is on her phone scrolling through instagram. She’s mindlessly doing it until she comes across one of you and Nicole sitting together on a couch and you both have big smiles. Melissa freezes and stares at it and unconsciously grips the phone tightly.

“Melissa, are you ok?” Barb says and gently puts a hand on her upper arm for comfort.

“What? Oh, fine.” Melissa says and you walk into the room then and she smiles, then that smile immediately drops when she sees Nicole following you. “Actually I gotta go.” Melissa then says and grabs her stuff then stands up.

“Morning Melissa! Oh are you going somewhere? We were gonna join you.” You say innocently and with a big smile.

Barb sees how Melissa grips her pen so tight that her knuckles are turning white, while you are none the wiser.

“I’ve just got some stuff to do before school starts. I’ll see you later Barb.” She says with a frown and then walks out of there.

“Is she ok?” You ask Barb and she just looks at you confused as well. Then she replays in her head what happened. Melissa was scrolling on her phone through instagram and obviously saw something she didn’t like, then you came in and she smiled, and then it dropped. Why?

“Did you post something on instagram lately?” Barb asks and you nod. You showed her the picture you posted an hour ago that you took yesterday afternoon, then suddenly the pieces fall into place for Barb. Melissa likes you and she’s jealous of Nicole. Barb has to do some digging, cause while she doesn’t think you and Nicole are dating, Melissa might, and Barb has to be certain before she talks to Melissa. “Just out of curiosity dear, are you and Nicole going out? I mean like are you dating?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Me and Nicole?” You say while pointing towards you both, even Nicole is confused by the question.

“Why would you think that me and y/n are dating? I mean not that there’s anything wrong with y/n, it’s just, she’s not my type. Gender wise.” Nicole says.

“I mean ya I guess we can come across as a bit flirty but we’re just comfortable with each other.” You say with a smile. “Besides she’s not my type either, personality and looks wise.” You say and Nicole nods.

“Ya y/n is a great friend but would be a terrible partner for me.” Nicole says and all 3 of you laugh.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your type dear.” Barb asks you and you have to think about that. You know your type, and it’s Melissa, you have a crush on her and the only person who knows about your crush is Nicole and she’s been pushing you to get closer to her and ask her out. You want to tell Barb but she’s Melissa’s best friend, and while you know Barb won’t tell her if you tell her not too, it’d still be awkward if she knew. So you have to say your type without letting on that it describes Melissa.

“Well I guess women that have like a lot of spice to their personality, like they’re not plain.” You say with a big smile. “And I guess I do have a soft spot for fiery redheads.” You say a bit cautiously and you see that Barb’s expression hasn’t changed so I guess she hasn’t figured it out yet, so you continue. “And older women, I think they’re hot.” You say and Nicole playfully smacks your shoulder.

“Ya you and those milfs, I swear.” She tells you and you giggle. Barb looks at you two confused.

“What’s a Milf?” She says and you both look at her.

“It stands for Mom I’d Like to Fuck. But it’s also meant to describe older women that you think are hot.” You explain to her and her eyes widen a bit but you think it’s because of the description of Milfs and not of the woman you like.

“Is there anyone that you like right now dear?” She asks you and you nod timidly.

“Ya she does!” Nicole says and you glare at her. “I’m gonna leave now, gotta get to work, see ya sweets.” She tells you and waves at you and Barb goodbye.

“Is it Melissa?” She asks you and you snap your head at her and eyes wide a bit. That was all the answer Barb needed but of course you try to defend yourself.

“What?!? N-no…of course not! Why would you think I like Melissa?” You say, stuttering and stumbling through the entire sentence.

“I’m just wondering dear that’s all. I have something to do before school as well. I’ll see you at lunch dear.” She tells you and you say goodbye to each other.

Barb gets to Melissa’s room in time to see Melissa throw a pen across the room, and she sees no others on the redhead’s desk.

“How many pens have you thrown across the room?” Barb asks her and Melissa whips her head to her.

“I lost count.” She says to her, then goes to collect all of them. She picks up what looks to be about 10 pens and a couple markers and highlighters.

Barb wants to tell Melissa what she knows but thinks that Melissa might brush her off, so she decides to tell her tomorrow after she has time to blow off some steam. Which in retrospect, turns out to be a mistake.

Melissa goes to a gay club after to blow off some steam, and she ends up chatting it up with a girl there and then makes out with her at the club. You end up seeing that, as you also went to the club to try and move on from her since you think Melissa will never have an interest in you. Melissa ends up taking the girl home and you were watching her the entire night, she never saw you though. You really have to move on now. You end up telling Nicole what you saw and she said she can be around with you more in the mornings and after school so when you see the redhead, she can provide comfort for you.

So on the Friday morning, Melissa comes in with a small pep to her step as she had sex with the girl last night and you notice it. Nicole is with you though on the couch, you decided to stop sitting at the table with Melissa and Barb to avoid the redhead. As soon as Melissa walks in, she sees you and Nicole on the couch, and Nicole has an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Melissa gets angry at that and ends up taking it out on Jacob and throws his android at the wall with a “GO BACK TO THE BLUE BUBBLE!” She yells at him and Jacob tries to act like that didn’t faze or scare him.

You look over at Melissa when that happens and she catches your gaze. You two lock eyes for a second then you turn back to Nicole and Melissa stomps out of there. Melissa ends up telling Barb that she went to the gay club last night and hooked up with a girl, and later you end telling Barb that you went to the club as well when she asked what was wrong.

“I went to the gay club last night and being there just didn’t help anything.” You told her and even if you don’t say it, Barb knows you saw Melissa there, and she knows Melissa didn’t see you.

Over the next couple of weeks, Nicole has been coming with you into the break room in the morning or you go to your classroom with her to avoid the redhead, and she meets you after school to avoid Melissa as well.

“Hiya sweets!” She greets you one Friday afternoon and then you end up catching Melissa giving a glare in your direction. You see that it wasn’t directed at you though, it was directed at Nicole and you got confused.

You and Melissa both end up at the club again only it was reversed this time. She sees you there and you don’t see her. She sees you there alone looking upset and Nicole nowhere to be seen. And then she decides to go and talk to you. Before she gets to you however, a girl comes up and starts talking to you before she does. She freezes and sees that the girl is flirting with you and you seem to be liking it. That makes her confused because as far as she knows, you’re dating Nicole and you’re monogamous. She starts to get jealous again and stomps out of there before she starts a fight with either that girl who’s flirting with you or some random person.

On Monday morning she decides to talk to you at lunch. She knows that for some reason you seem to avoid the break room now so she’ll have to go down to your classroom. You at the moment are having a discussion with Nicole before school starts.

“What are you going to do y/n? Cause you can’t avoid Melissa forever and I can’t always come down to support you.” She says and you sigh.

“I know, it’s just hard right now. I mean ever since I saw her take that girl home a few weeks ago. I just keep thinking about it.” You tell Nicole and she nods.

“I keep telling you to talk to her.” Nicole tells you and you sigh.

“You know I won’t. You don’t have to come with me in the mornings anymore you know. I can just hide out in my classroom. I mean there’s what? 16 weeks left until summer break. And then I can spend the summer just getting over her. And then she’ll never even know how I felt cause then it’ll go back to normal next school year.” You say confidently. Melissa sees your door mostly closed and decides to keep walking, knowing that Nicole’s in there too. You hear her heels and you go and look out your door and see her walking to her classroom. You think it’s good that she didn’t stop by your classroom or else she might have heard your confession and you let out a sigh of relief.

“If you just tell her then you’ll know if she likes you or not. I mean what if she likes you back?” Nicole says and you shake your head at her. “Honestly you lesbians are so dramatic.” Nicole teases you and you flip her off. “I love ya too y/n.” She says and then leaves for work.

At lunch Melissa comes to see you after grabbing her lunch from the fridge. She runs into Barb and tells her she’s going to see you and Barb smirks and tells her good luck.

She arrives at your door then Melissa takes a deep breath and knocks on your door. You open it and almost slam the door back in her face but instead you just freeze.

“Hi.” She tells you and leans on the doorframe. She’s so cute you think and then remove those thoughts, not the time to check her out.

“Something you want Melissa?” You ask her as neutral as possible and she’s slightly taken back by this. You usually have a big and bright smile when you greet her.

“I just wanted to know if you were ok? I haven’t seen you as much lately.” She says and you look at her eyes then look away from her eyes as fast as possible.

“I’m fine, just don’t feel like being in the break room.” You tell her.

“Why?”

“That’s personal.” You tell her with a bit of a snap to it.

“Can I come in?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“No.” You tell her flatly.

“Why not?” She asks you confused. “You always were happy to have people around in your classroom to visit you.” She tells you.

“Well I decided that I’m going to avoid people from now on.” You say and go to close your door, but Melissa with quick hands, stops it and pushes it back open and you stumble back from the force a bit. Melissa takes the opportunity and walks in and closes and locks the door. She then turns to look at you with an unimpressed look. “What?” You ask her and she walks towards you, you however began to walk backwards to avoid her and she keeps walking towards you. You then get stopped by your desk and Melissa traps you there and looks at you closely.

“What’s going on with you hun?” She asks and you begin to breathe deeply. You don’t reply and she continues to try and get you to talk. “I saw you at the club on Friday night, flirting with that girl.” She tells you and your eyes go wide then you narrow your eyebrows at her.

“So?” You question her.

“You seem to be enjoying it and playing along. I thought you were dating Nicole.” She tells you and the built up anger that was starting inside you immediately disappears and all that’s left is confusion.

“You think Nicole and I are together?” You tell her and press your lips together to try and suppress a laugh.

Melissa looks confused. “Um ya, I mean it’s kinda obvious. She’s always with you, you guys constantly are talking, she comes in with you to school and picks you up after. You’re constantly flirting and posting pictures of the both of you together.” She says those last 2 with some anger and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Melissa, her and I are just friends. We may sometimes seem flirty but it’s innocent. She’s straight and she’s not my type.” You say and Melissa leans back, immediately releasing you and you get out from her entrapment. “Melissa what is all this about? You’re acting distant lately.” You say and she looks at your desk and has her fingers on it.

“I don’t like seeing you two together.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I thought you were together.” She says plainly and then it all hits you at once. The way she leaves when she sees Nicole with you, the glares she sends at Nicole, the way she ignores you both when you go to talk to her, the way her personality changes as soon as Nicole is in the room. Melissa is jealous.

“Is it because you don’t have a partner? Because it can be so easy for you to find one. I mean you found someone to hook up with a few weeks ago.” You tell her and her eyes widen.

“You were at the bar that night?” She asks and you nod.

“I saw you make out with her and then take her home with you.” You say disappointedly.

Melissa pieces it all together right then and there and smirks. She stalks towards you and traps you against the wall on the side where your doors are.

“Did you get jealous by that?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“What?!? Me? Jealous of you with another girl? Why would I get jealous of that?” You say and your voice gets high in pitch and she grins. You gulp as she gives you a look that she doesn’t believe you.

“I think you are jealous by that.” She tells you and lowers the pitch of her voice. “Tell me, did you want it to be you that I took home that night?” She asks and you look at her with a huge blush and you can’t find it in you to lie to her, so you nod. “Well do you want to know what I was thinking when that girl flirted with you?” She asks and you nod again. “I thought that I wish it was me flirting with you instead of that girl. She is just a girl who probably doesn’t know how to properly satisfy another girl yet.” She tells you and then leans in to your ear. “I’m much more experienced and know how to satisfy a girl all night.” She whispers in your ear and you shiver. “Ugh I was so jealous when I thought you and Nicole were together, I was mad. And then you started avoiding me and she was over every day and I wasn’t able to keep taking it. I went to that club every night and kept sleeping with girls to get my mind off of you and blow off some steam.” She tells you and you look at her surprised.

“You’ve been sleeping with a bunch of girls?” You ask her shyly and she nods.

“And either they weren’t experienced or maybe it’s because they weren’t you, I don’t know which one but it wasn’t any good.” She says and you look at how close she is.

“Can you let me go?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“Do you know how much time I’ve spent picturing you in my bed, underneath me or up against my wall at my house. How many times I’ve spend fantasising about you when I’m touching myself?” She asks and you shake your head. “I mean fuck y/n, you drive me crazy.” She tells you and you’re a blushing mess right now but find enough strength in you to speak.

“I… I fantasise about you too.” You tell her and she smirks at you.

“Really?” She asks and you nod. “What do you fantasise about?” She whispers near your ear and you gulp.

“I-I picture you on top of me, domi…dominating m-me.” You start and you’re very nervous, but her smirk makes you continue. “And I imagine what it would be like to feel you inside of me and making me beg to let me come.” And while you speak, she drives her knee closer and closer to your core. Until she hits it and you squeak and buck your hips.

“Keep going.” She tells you while grabbing your hips and you gulp again before continuing.

“I thought about…about what your breasts would look like and-” you get cut off by you gasping as she moves your hips forward, making you grind against her thigh. “I thought- I thought about what your lips would feel like on mine and all over me.” You continue with difficulty and eventually you don’t need her hands guiding you as you’re turned on enough and you continue grinding her thigh on your own. She removes her hands from you and places them beside your head and then places her lips on your neck and starts kissing and sucking. She then tells you to continue. “Omg, Mel-Melissa.” You say a bit loud and she has to cover your mouth with her hand.

“I guess you can’t continue, since you’re loud.” She says against your neck. You’re close to coming about a minute later and she pulls away and you whip your head at her in shock.

“What? Why’d you stop? I was so close.” You say and she smirks.

“Oh I know. But I want to see your whole body and be inside you while you come underneath me.” She says seductively. “I want to take out all my jealousy on this pretty body of yours.” She says and bites your ear then pulls back again. “Why don’t you come to my house after school?” She asks and you immediately nod. “Good, now don’t touch yourself during the rest of lunch, I want you begging me for release tonight.” She tells you and you nod her head.

Melissa then grabs her lunchbox and then goes back to the break room. She enters with a grin on her face and the trio looks at her confused, Barb sees the grin but doesn’t comment on it. She just smiles and shakes her head.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[livsbrutalitys-blog]

Unfinished business

pt. 1 | pt. 2| pt. 4 (i highly recommend reading the previous parts first <3)

pairing(s): Rhea x f!reader, wwe x f!reader, not really but aew x f!reader

a/n: the song that’s below is gonna be the entrance music for y/n if you don’t like it thats totally fine we don’t all have the same taste so i recommend you play whatever music you choose. don’t play it just yet I will make a note letting you know when to play it :) Also this part is probably gonna be the shortest of them all.

use of y/n

tw: eventual smut, cussing, physical violence (y’all this is wrestling what’d you expect), idk if there’s more lmk if you see any

rm: @floweirala if you want to be added or unadded just message me

Today was finally the day you and Liv had been waiting for. You were finally going to see her. You woke you before Liv and now you were just laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling thinking about how the day is gonna go.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a blaring noise coming from the opposite side of the room. You turned your head to see what it was and it was Liv’s alarm going off. You got up and walked over to her bed and gently shook her arm to wake her up. When she did finally wake up she grabbed her phone and shut off the alarm.

“Good morning, it’s the big day!” you said trying to sound more excited to encourage her to get out of bed. “Oh my god!” is all she said as she sprung out of her bed suddenly remembering what today was. You laughed at her and she giggled at her own antics.

“I was thinking maybe we go grab some breakfast before we get ready or we can order room service?” you suggested and she turned to look at you considering your options till she finally decided what she wanted. “Room service would probably be better since it’s probably crawling with fans out there and we don’t wanna be spotted” she said and you nodded in agreement, you didn’t even think about that.

WWE was so much different than AEW in so many was but the biggest thing was the size of the fan base. You knew it wasn’t gonna be the same as your last company but it still amazes you how big the actual fan base was compared to the other company. But they shared some of the same fans so they’d definitely know who you are if they saw you out on the streets.

Once you two got done eating and cleaned up you both decided that you should go ahead and start getting ready since your call time to be at the show was 1 pm and it was now 10:30. You were dressed and Liv was putting the finishing touches on her make up while you waited. You didn’t do your makeup just yet since you’ve always preferred doing it last so it looked as fresh as possible for the TV and the love crowd.

You grabbed a hoodie to wear over your outfit and a mask so that way when you were out nobody would spot you and give away the surprise. Liv did the same as you, You felt your phone start to buzz in your pocket. When you grabbed it and looked at what it was you weren’t surprised to see that it was Stephanie calling you. You answered the call.

“Hey Steph” you said now feeling comfortable calling her by her nickname since you had been working with her very closely for the past 6 months leading up to today. “Hi y/n, are you and Liv ready to go?” she asked “Um I am let me check on Liv really quick” you muted your end of the call in case something personal or embarrassing was said but mostly it was just a habit you formed.

“Hey Livy, Steph’s on the phone wondering if your ready. Are you good to go or do you need more time?” you asked stepping into the bathroom halfway to get a look at her. “Yeah I’m good to go if you are” she said with a big smile you could see in her eyes how much today meant to her. You smiled at her because seeing her this happy made you just as excited and happy as her. “Yeah I’m good” you said while unmuting your phone. “Yep we’re both good to go” you said with audible excitement. “That’s awesome, Ok there is a car waiting for you downstairs, remember to wear the covering you don’t wanna spoil the surprise” she said she was also very happy for you two.

You finished the call with Stephanie and you were now headed down to the ground floor of the hotel. Totally covered nobody could tell who you were which was a good thing right now. Now both of you were sitting in the back seat of a big suv on the way to the arena. You were, again, lost in your own thoughts about Rhea and the whole rest of the day ahead of you. You felt something touch your hand. You looked over at Liv and her face said all that you needed to hear. She was sympathizing with you in that moment, you didn’t let go of her hand as it was the only thing keeping you from spiraling in that moment.

“Liv I cant thank you enough for being through all this with me” you said breaking the silence. “Y/n you don’t have to thank me your basically my sister now, I love you boo, I got you, always” she said and you were really truly grateful for her. You don’t know how you would’ve made it through these past couple months with out her support and ungodly amount of enthusiasm. You smiled at her “I love you too Livy and I’ve got you always” she smiled at you.

You finally arrived at the arena and the driver came to open Liv’s door and she hopped out first, turning to face the inside of the car to adjust her disguise and ask you to make sure she was covered you let her know she was good and asked her the same for yourself. You hopped out right behind her and you two sprinted to the door and ran inside quickly to avoid any spying eyes. You were immediately rushed to a room and told that you would be told when it was your time to come out but to stay in that room for the time being and you both did.

You grabbed your makeup bag out of your bigger bag and sat down at the vanity that was set up in the room. You were halfway done when you heard something. Someone. A deep Australian accent vibrated through the hallway outside your dressing room. You couldn’t make out the words but you knew exactly who it was. You stared at the door for whatever reason it’s like you froze in place as soon as you made the connection of the voice and the person. Liv noticed and said your name to get your attention “huh, what is it?” you said still kind of lost in thought but now looking at her blankly.

“Don’t worry about her your gonna get her soon, your gonna make her regret hurting you like she did” She said with a sense of anger. “I’m not worried about her I’m just a little overwhelmed this is a lot y’know” you said now suddenly out of breath and feeling panicked for no reason at all it seemed. “God Liv I can’t get a good breath” you said holding your chest now feeling like tears are gonna come at any given second. “Hey Hey Hey look at me, you are fine, you are safe and you’re gonna be amazing out there everyone’s gonna freak when they see you even her she’s not gonna know what to do with herself and i mean it’s not like she can run anywhere” she said while holding you face and fanning you to calm you down and it worked. You nodded at her words signaling you heard her.

Once you finally calmed down you finished your makeup and sat on the couch with Liv watching the match happening right now on the TV. Rhea’s match was next and you heard the door knob giggle before it finally opened to reveal Stephanie. She snuck in swiftly.

“You girls ready for the best moment of your lives” she said with a beaming smile. You and Liv jumped up shrieking as you both said yes at the same time. “Alright well come on let’s go to gorilla” she motioned you to walk out. You both kept your disguises on and it brought some attention from the other wrestlers to you both. They knew what was going on just not who it was.

“Alright it’s gonna be Liv first then Y/n you’ll go out last and join her” she said hugging you both feeling so proud of you two. “ok ok that sounds good” Liv said trying to do breathing exercises to calm herself down and you were copying her. “And y/n you’ve got the microphone” Stephanie said, you weren’t surprised as you and Liv both practiced the same promo but Liv didn’t really like doing them it wasn’t her thing and you were completely fine with that you always enjoyed talking shit especially on the mic.

Rheas match was happening and you were getting closer to going out. You heard Liv’s cue to go out. She was waiting in front of you just behind the curtain now. Her music blasted and you screamed at her “you got this bitch” and more encouraging words. She whipped her head around to give you a quick air kiss and then she was gone. You glanced at the monitor that was set up backstage and you’ve never seen the crowd get that excited and loud it was almost deafeningly loud.

(play the song now)

Your music hit and it pulled you out of the trance like state you were in while watching Liv and the crowd. You inhaled deeply, pushing all of your anxiety down. Making your way to the ramp you walked with purpose and cockiness. As soon as the bright lights hit your eyes and the screams and chants hit your ears. You smiled slightly, taking a moment to take the moment in, looking around at all the faces looking back at you. You turned your attention to the task at hand, you finally saw her after all this time, all you had to do was look at her to know that she was not the same person you knew.

As you looked at her she turned her head slowly as she was laid out on the mat, exhausted and in pain. Her face shifted from a painful wince to a confused and furious look. You looked at Liv, making eye contact at the exact same time. You two both shared a look and it was like you read each others mind as you both ran to the ring quickly.

Liv jumped up on the apron and got the ref’s attention as you slid in the ring and took Rhea out with brass knuckles you had put on when you were making your way out to the ramp. When your fist made contact with her face you felt a sense of regret and felt a little guilty for taking her out like that. But there was no time to waste because the ref’s attention was slowly being drawn back to the match that was supposed to be happening behind him. You looked a Charlotte and motioned for her to come over and pin her opponent while she was down and she did.

You tapped the ref on the shoulder and shouted at him, “Come on count, hurry, hurry!” you shouted “one, two, three!” the arena shook on the last count as everyone was counting with the official. “And here’s your winner and new Women’s World Champion Charlotte Flair!” Samantha shouted into the mic there was a mix of disappointment and happiness that filled the arena.

“Rhea” you spoke into the mic was all you said as you knelt beside her. “you’ve gotten to confident haven’t you?” you looked at her shaking your head in a disappointed fashion. “we’ll don’t worry because Me and Liv here are gonna out right back where you belong” you said as you got up to walk away but you stopped for a second a glanced back at her before kneeling beside her again to say one last thing this time not on the mic. “And believe me you deserve it. Don’t forget what you did to me” you said with anger and hurt.

Rhea jumped up, startling you as you stepped out of the ring now on the apron beside Liv. “This isn’t over!” was all you heard from her as you walked back up the ramp, giggling with Liv. On your way back you slowed down to sign some posters, take quick pictures and just meet some of the fans for a brief moment.

When you got back to the top of the ramp before you went through the opening that led to the backstage area you turned around and blew a kiss to the woman in the ring who was fuming while staring at you.

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long for me to post but here it is and i hope you enjoyed this part even though I know it seems a little rushed.

[lost-in-lamentation]

💌💋 - love letter, first kiss.

satan × gen!reader. fluff.

warnings: very brief angry satan.

content: you've accidentally read satan's unfinished love letter to you.

back to the 500 follower event: here.

the sound of a bell rang distantly in your ears. you looked up from your notes with a frown, locking eyes with satan as he cast you a confused look. “MC, don’t you have devildom law in your last block?” 

“ah, the study block is done already?” you flipped your d.d.d. over, taking a look at the time. “this class is going to kill me. the more he talks, the less i feel like i know,” you sighed. hastily, you gathered your papers from the table, sliding them into your folder. “pass me my textbook?” 

satan leaned forward in his chair, gathering the textbook and the papers underneath it before placing them in your hands. “that teacher was always difficult,” the blond mused while he leaned back again. “if you need help with that class, just ask me. i’ll help you through it.”

your eyes lit up at the idea. “yes please.” satan didn’t expect you to say yes so easily; his eyes flickered with surprise and the tips of his ears turned pink at your eagerness. “you don’t have class this period, right? will you just stay here?” 

“most likely. this library is always more peaceful than the study at home.”

“then, can i come back here and meet you after my class?” satan replied with a nod and a dismissive wave, shooing you away before you ended up late for law class. 

you barely made it in time, sprinting up to the doorway just as the second bell echoed through the halls. exhaling in relief, you plopped down into your chair and settled your bag at your feet. however, your relief was short-lived. the teacher had begun handing out a surprise test, much to your dismay. but another part of you was glad you didn’t have to listen to another lecture today. by the time you finished your test, more than half of class time had passed. with nothing else to do other than watch the clock tick by, you pulled your notes out of your bag, deciding to double check that your answers for the test would suffice. 

when you opened your textbook, an unfamiliar piece of paper fluttered down to the floor. you blinked at it, confused. quietly, you shifted your chair backwards just enough to reach under the desk, swiping it off the ground before straightening back up. with a curious gaze, you unfolded it, the mysterious content revealing itself to you.

My dearest MC. My dearest, MC. 

I’ve spent a long time thinking about how I might tell you these things. I considered over a phone call first, thinking that my voice would get my intentions across. But then it occurred to me that if I wanted you to hear my voice, then I should tell you in person. And I realised further that I might not be brave enough to tell you these things face to face just yet. So, I thought maybe just texting you would be the way to go. It was my main plan for some time, until I saw a character in Levi’s anime reject a confession through text because it wasn’t “genuine”. I ended up stumped. At least, until I came across the idea of a love letter in a novel of mine. And so, I’m writing this love letter to you in the hopes that you’ll accept it; accept me. Ever since you’ve come to the Devildom, you’ve taught me more than any teacher, any novel or any tome ever could. Not only have you taught me practical skills, but you’ve also taught me so much emotionally, and that means more to me than anything. For anyone to brave me, the embodiment of wrath, it felt impossible. But you came in, albeit not as quietly as I would have expected a normal human to come in, and tore down the walls I hid myself in. MC, were it not for you, my relationship with my brothers would have taken much longer to improve. I am still learning how to deal with them, and how to deal with my anger, but you taught me that I am more than my anger, and that I am more than the creature that split from Lucifer. First and foremost, I need to say thank you. For being the human that you are. Though you can be chaotic, reckless, and a bit overwhelming at times, I cannot imagine a life without you in it. You’ve weaved yourself a place with me; with everyone. And now that I’ve had you for so long, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go. MC, there are a lot more things I’d like to say. But considering what kind of a letter this is, I have to at least say it once. I

the unsigned letter cut off abruptly. at some point, tears had pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over onto the paper, where a name should have been left. it was no mystery as to who wrote the letter; he had most likely slid it into your textbook by accident while he was trying to help you collect your papers. suddenly, the bell rang loudly, signalling the end of class. you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand, throwing all your belongings into your bag and keeping only the letter in hand as you dashed down the hallways. halfway to the library, you saw satan peering into an empty classroom, expression rather frantic for someone who didn’t have any classes left for the day.

“satan!” you called out to him, sliding to a stop just in front of him. 

“MC?” the demon shifted to face you. panic was etched into his gaze, and he had to take a quick breath to calm himself before speaking again. “i’m just looking for something right now, i can meet you in the library after i’ve-”

“is it this?” the letter swayed as you held it out to him, the words clearly visible in it’s unfolded state. 

satan acted fast, tearing it from your grasp as his expression changed into something that looked like fear. “where did you get this?” his voice was low, question sounding more like a demand. 

“it was in my textbook,” you said as you struggled to catch your breath. “i think you might have put it in there by accident when you were helping me pack up earlier-”

the avatar of wrath turned away from you. “go home,” he snapped, crumpling the letter into a ball. 

you took a careful step towards him. “what?”

“i said, go home.” satan trembled ever so slightly, his knuckles white as he dug his nails into his palms. “forget what you read, and don’t ever bring it up to me.”

“wait a minute, let’s talk about this.” you pleaded gently, but satan was stubborn. 

without warning, his horns manifested from his head, and his tail became known as it whipped against the floor with a loud crack. “i’ve already embarrassed myself enough by letting you read something that was never supposed to be read by you. i don’t need you to reject me along with it.” he glared at you from over his shoulder, eyes glinting with anger, fear, and for a split second, sorrow. “get out of my sight.” 

“would you just-!” satan began stalking away, but you refused to let this, or him, go. you lunged forward, your hand catching his wrist just before he got too far. satan attempted to pull his arm free, jerking it towards himself, but you held strong. you stumbled towards him, causing you to use his body as a pillow instead of smashing directly into the wall. “just listen to me!” you shouted now, glad that hallways were vacated of students at this time of day. 

“why should i?!” his voice continued to grow louder as he took a step backwards.

“because i’m not going to reject you!” finally, satan held his tongue. his eyes flashed with doubt, but for a fraction of a second, there was hope as well. “satan,” you breathed his name softly, loosening your grip on his wrist. slowly, you slid your hand down, wrapping your fingers around his. “i really, really liked what you wrote.” you watched as his stare fell to your joined hands. “i wanted to ask about the letter because it wasn’t finished. i…” heat rushed to your cheeks now that you were realising what kind of conversation this was becoming. at some point, your heart had jumped up into your throat, beating so loud that you wondered if satan could hear it. “i want to know how the letter ends.”

the storm that raged in his gaze steadily calmed, clearing into the sea of emerald that you knew so well. “you do?” for once, satan spoke meekly. wrath was gone, replaced instead with a demon who had yet to find his place in this world. 

“i do.” little by little, your free hand inched up to his face, hovering just below his chin. when satan made no move to push you away, you took the leap, cupping his jaw and brushing your thumb over his cheek. “how does the letter end?” 

satan made a choked sound. the way you treated him so gently was something he could never have imagined for himself. for someone like him, love was just a construct; it was an idea, meant to never fully appear in his lifetime. but here you were anyway, waiting to hear those three words that satan thought he would never get to say. “it ends with…” satan stopped to see your reaction, trying to make sure you weren’t doing this just to get him to calm down. but you remained steadfast, waiting until he was ready. “i love you.” the words tumbled out, the simple phrase stirring a barrage of emotions inside his already troubled soul. 

“you know, if i wrote a letter to you, i’d end my letter with the same thing.” 

“you would?”

“i would.” 

satan stepped closer to you, his face close enough to yours that his breath fanned across your cheeks. he released a shaky breath, fingers tightening around you as he tried to process everything he was feeling. 

“satan?” he didn’t say anything in return. instead, he cast you an expectant look; one made up of both fear and wonder. “i love you too.”

the tears fell silently, cascading down his cheeks and onto your hands. tenderly, you pulled his face even closer, smiling at him as you placed a kiss just below his eye. satan shuddered at the action, but he refused to move away. you did the same on the other side of his face, catching his teardrops before they fell to the floor. and when they stopped appearing, you leaned towards him again, lips slotting over his. 

satan all but melted into you, affection as strong as his wrath beginning to sweep through him. your lips against his felt both like a tidal wave and an undisturbed lake. your love felt unconditional, unending. and although the situation was a bit chaotic, reckless, and just a bit overwhelming, satan wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

a/n: pls someone get the reference in the love letter pls pls

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[rubyuji]

Go the Distance (Joshua Hong) ♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: Nothing really except that this is like so sweet it makes me bitter at how adorable they are.

Synopsis: Joshua travels long distances just to see you, no matter how far.

Note: Another reworked fic from my pandora’s box of drafts / unfinished works, I wrote this while traveling so there might be typos or grammatical errors. Anyways, always remember to like + reblog as a way of showing support not only to me but also to other writers! Happy reading!

WC: 746

“Y/n? Can you open the door?” Joshua said from the phone. You were so close to dozing off when Joshua called, but you were jolted awake by what he had said.

“Joshua, what the fuck? This isn’t funny, you’re all the way in Seoul and I’m in Japan, there’s no way you came all the way here,” You huffed and went back to working on your essay, which was due the next day.

“Y/n, your mom called me. She told me about how you’ve been stressed over exams and school lately. I came to visit so you could maybe relax a bit,” Joshua said as you heard bags dragging from the other line. ‘He really is here,’ your eyes widened at the realization.

“Joshua, did you really fly all the way to Japan just to see me? You’re a week early for fucks sake! Isn’t the tour next week?” You were practically bolting down the stairs in your cinnamoroll slippers, almost slipping during the pursuit, which Joshua could hear.

“Maybe open the door so we can have a proper conversation?” Joshua had ended the call and you had opened the front door just in time, immediately engulfing your boyfriend in a hug as he spun you around.

The essay could wait, what mattered right now was that your boyfriend, who you hadn’t seen in almost half a year, was here to see you. Long distance was hard, especially with Joshua constantly on the move and his every schedule packed with work, but you were grateful that you and your boyfriend were able to make it work.

“Josh, I can’t believe you actually came!” You giggle, and Joshua buries his face into your hair. “Of course, I missed you so much. Now get off your laptop so we can spend time together,” Joshua says while walking into the cozy town house.

He’s been at your house a whenever he visited Japan, and it just gets more comforting as time goes on, especially the person living in it.

If Joshua wasn’t an idol, he would be fully content with just being your boyfriend and being a college student with you in the cozy town house you currently resided in.

“You really didn’t have to, I could’ve managed and been on my merry way to Seoul during the break you know,” You say softly and snuggle into Joshua’s arms as you watched a movie together.

“It was the least I can do, and besides, it’s been months since we last saw each other. I decided to get a headstart,” Joshua replied and snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck, a habit of his that you had missed so dearly.

“What did you end up bringing me by the way?” You asked, and opened the duty free bag curiously.

“I got you your favorite snacks that you always tell me to get whenever I fly over,” Joshua smiled gently, to which you responded with a squeal. Your boyfriend is the best person you could’ve ever asked for.

A few hours had gone by in a flash and after finishing some left over pizza from the day before and two tubs of ice cream, you and Joshua were beat.

“Are you tired? It’s getting late already, and you came here right after landing,” You say, concerned for your boyfriend, who had just come from a long flight.

“A bit, but I don’t mind because at least I finally get to see you after months,” Joshua whispers and gives you a gentle kiss.

You smile into it as Joshua leads you both into your bedroom, the two of you falling into your usual night routine as if time hadn’t passed.

When you were done, you laid in bed with Joshua, drawing circles into his firm chest as he ran his hands through your hair while slipping in a few pecks on your face.

“You seem so sleepy already,” Joshua chuckled, noticing your eyes slowly starting to droop. You did almost fall asleep at your desk before Joshua had called.

“I might be, I’m just scared that this is all a dream and you might disappear when I open my eyes tomorrow” You replied, already dozing off but still feeling Joshua’s gaze on you.

Joshua chuckles again and shakes his head at you. “Rest up darling, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he says, and turns off the lamp on the bedside table.

© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[nom-nommmm1]

THE NOTE BUDDIES - B. K.

Notes: this story is a short one from my Wattpad @nom_nommmm1!! If you like this please go check out my stories on there and my book about Georg!! I would greatly appreciate your support :)

It was an early spring morning. I headed to my first class of the day, science. I sigh as I walk in the class, sitting in my assigned spot. As class is about to start a tall boy with black hair walks in. The professor shakes his hand and introduces him. "Class this is Bill Kaulitz, he will be our new student here" he says pausing for a moment. "Treat him kindly" he continues.

I look at the boy in awe, I've never seen someone so perfect looking, he looked like an absolute supermodel. The professor pointed towards the seat next to me. "Bill you will be sitting next to Y/n" Bill makes his way towards his seat. "Hi" he quickly says with anxiety. I return the small hi back and look back at the board to see our professor writing down our agenda.

"Okay class, today we will be focusing on our notes, catching up on anything we need to put in our books as they are due tomorrow." I groan. He gave us way too many pieces of notes and only gave us till Friday to have it all in. I start to do my unfinished notes when I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn to see Bill. He looks at me nervously. "Hey uh, could you help me with this?" He asks showing me his blank page of notes.

"Oh yea I can totally help with that," I say nervously. I start explaining what it means and how you're supposed to fill the paper out. "Okay yeah this makes actual sense" he chuckles. Our science teacher never knew how to 'dumb it down' for the new kids. They always had to take tutoring to get caught up. I look at the clock 2 minutes till class ends. Bill looks at the time as well. "Hey, could I get your number? Maybe you could come to my house to help me with the rest of my notes?" he asks nervously. "Oh yeah, totally" I reply giving him my number.

He smiles, his anxiety practically disappearing. "Cool," he mutters.

——————————————————

I head to lunch and sit down at my normal table waiting for my friends. I see Layla and Cooper walk my way. "Hey Y/n, how've you been?" Layla asks looking at me with sweet eyes. "I've been alright how about you?" I reply looking at her smile. "Good" she smiles a little wider and they both sit down. I look around the cafeteria to see Bill heading my way. "Hi Y/n!" He says excited to see me again.

"Hey Bill, come sit" I wave him over and he follows. We all laugh and joke around until our lunch period is over. "Bye guys, I'll see you laterrr" I say waving goodbye and walking to my next class.

——————————————————

Schools over and I'm at home. I get a text from an unknown number.

***-***-****

Hey this is Bill, do you have time to come over and help me with science work?

Y/n

Yea of course, I'll be by in a few. :)

I smile at my phone and make my way downstairs. "Hey mom is it cool if I go to a buddies house to help with notes?" I ask looking at her desperately. "Of course you can, send the address and I'll pick you up at 7 o'clock" she smiles at me and waves goodbye as I exit the door. I walk to Bills house to see him on the porch waiting for me. "You didn't have to wait outside" I chuckle looking at his blue lips. "I know but I wanted to" he says shivering.

"Cmon dork, let's get you inside" I say playfully laughing, he does the same.

Thank you for reading!!

Enjoy!

[pinguwrites]

Forever Yours | Jackson Rippner (Kinktober 2023 | Day 31 — Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader)

READ DISCLAIMER

pairing | jackson rippner x reader

summary | In this college au, Halloween is nearing its corner, only for the festive mood to be cut short when your classmate is brutally killed. As the series of murders continues, Jackson Rippner finds himself the next target, oblivious to the fact that his hunter is you, his girlfriend, the ghostface.

word count | 5k

Warnings: smut, rough sex - SM, jackson's insecure, kinda sub!jackson, reader and jackson are sick and crazy, mention of parental abuse, masturbation, brief mention of animal death/abuse (hinted)

Disclaimer: This is part of my unfinished works. I don't write anymore, but I still wanted to publish what I have. I'll use bullet points to explain what I planned to happen at the end. Also note that this is heavily unedited, there will be a lot of mistakes.

"You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings. You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything" — Closer, Nine Inch Nails

Jackson Rippner was trying to become more romantic for you, an endeavor that started about a week ago after he noticed you liked passionate men. It was a simple conversation about fictional crushes — you know, the ones you have as a kid when he realized all the men you had pointed out were terribly lovey-dovey and all sentimental-like. A few origami roses here and there, some thoughtful gifts, maybe some poetic letters, and he was sure that he could outcompete all of them. He was the only man you needed, the only man you could ever want.

He knew how it sounded — pathetic. Since when was he the type to change himself for a girl? He was no Romeo or Jack Dawson, and he certainly didn’t want to be. He wasn’t a simpering fool, chasing after a pretty girl like it was his life’s mission, but as it turned out, he was for you. And if you liked your men romantic, then Jackson would be romantic.

Starting off with whatever this was: a package of your favorite stuff. Two books you mentioned wanting to get but couldn’t spare the money for, which Jackson just knew he had to buy, even though it would piss off his father — he was always stingy with money — but he figured it was fine as long as it came out of his own pocket. Some bath bombs he made from scratch, swiping the ingredients from around the house. He used a cedar wood scent for the essential oil, as it was the closest smell he could get to his cologne, and made three bombs, wrapped them in plastic, and put them alongside the books in the bag.

It was nothing big, but it was perfect. You were going to love it. You had to love it. How could you not?

He closed the bag and placed it on his desk, ready to go to sleep, when the landline downstairs rang. It was probably telemarketers, but it could also be his parents, who were out on date night. He decided to go head down and check anyways. 

He headed downstairs and picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end caught him off guard. “Hey,” a woman said, but it didn’t sound natural. It sounded like there was a voice modulator, the ones that criminals used in those crime shows you forced him to watch.

“Hey?” Jackson responded, confused, and a little irritated.

“I know who you are.”

Jackson tried to focus on the sound of the voice. Maybe he could pick out who it was if he listened close enough, but it was a fruitless effort. It was female, but too common to tell.

“You’re the one calling me,” he said, tone laced with amusement, “I should assume so.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“A creep? A weirdo?” Jackson laughed. “A stalker? I dunno. Take your pick.”

It was quiet. For a moment, he thought the woman hung up, but then she spoke again, “A lover. I’m a lover, Jackson.”

“Good for you.” He was tired, and didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Now, how about you either stop acting mysterious and tell me what you want, or I cut the call.”

“Someone’s going to die tonight, Jackson,”  the woman said. Oddly enough, Jackson felt a twinge of excitement at her words. It was oddly thrilling, and adrenaline inducing to hear such a thing. It was at this point he realized with himself that this woman was just messing with him, because who would admit to premeditated murder? 

“I hope it’s that girl from my English class. What’s her name? Ah, fuck, I forgot. She’s the annoying one—all emotion. Screams every time the lights go out. You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

So, she’s been on campus, Jackson thought. Following me, maybe. I can’t believe it! 

“It’s not her, though. But who knows, maybe she’ll be next. Would you like that?”

“Doll, I really don’t care. Do me a favor, and don’t call me again.”

He put the phone down and went back upstairs. What a fucking psycho. He was too tired to deal with this shit. After a night of wrapping gifts, all he wanted was to rest. But still, even as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about that call. A gut feeling told him not to dismiss it as a prank, but before he could contemplate it any further, he fell asleep.

+++

Jackson drove his car to Westwood’s campus, towards the west side of the college where he knew you were going to be. You had a 2 PM class on Thursday, and right about now was when it ended. He usually picked you up, driving afterwards to a diner, or sometimes to a random spot where you could both be alone and make out in.

As he watched the students pile out of the building, he spotted you, near the back of the crowd, having a conversation with your good friend Lisa. He narrowed his eyes once he saw what you were wearing — a dark, plaid miniskirt with a black crop top. Even from this distance he could see the curved outline of your breasts, and imagined the view from behind, but as you got closer, he noticed the look on your face — concerned, nervous. In fact, he noticed the look on everyones face. They were whispering amongst each other in hushed voices, unlike most days when they were loud and rowdy. 

You waved goodbye to Lisa, then headed over to the car, getting into the shotgun seat. In a quick movement, you gave Jackson a kiss on the cheek, then leaned back with a heavy sigh. “Did you hear?” you asked.

“About what?” He was a little worried, but knowing you it was probably because you got a B on a test or some other stupid bullshit. He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, exiting onto the main road.

“You know,” you said, not leading much on. “The girl.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I can’t understand you when you speak all cryptic like this.”

“Sorry — I just thought you knew. She went missing, just last night or something.”

Jackson froze. “What?”

“Well, not missing.” Your voice was a little awkward, as if you were uncomfortable talking about it. “Lisa told me she’s dead. At least, that’s what she heard. But you know, the police haven’t come out with a report and I haven’t looked at the news yet.”

Jackson couldn’t believe it. His mind went to last night, and the mysterious call he got. Did the murder have anything to do with that? It couldn’t be a coincidence. Would it be interfering with an investigation if he didn't tell the police?

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your tone holding a hint of concern.

Jackson wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell you. It was probably just nothing, but still, he didn’t want to keep any secrets. It was Relationships 101, communication, even though he was shit poor at it. 

“I got a call last night,” he said, as nonchalant as he could. “It was this woman. Her voice was masked, so I couldn’t recognize it. She, uh, told me that someone was going to die.”

You huffed. “Are you being serious?”

“Yeah.”

You swatted his shoulder, making him chuckle. “You have to go to police, Jackson! They can track down the call and find out who it is — maybe she’s the murderer. Haven’t you thought of that?”

“I did,” Jackson said. Seeing the look on your face, he relented. “Alright. I’ll go to the station after I drop you off, happy?”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. I don’t want to leave you alone. What if you’re being targeted, hmm? What if you’re next?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Stop overreacting. You can come, but you’re just gonna get bored.”

You were fine with that, so it seemed.

He drove to the police station, noticing the presence of reporters. He managed to slip you both past them, though he suspected that the only reason he got through was because they weren’t interested in them.

He went up to the front desk and told the lady he needed to report something. She nodded and brought out a paper to record, when she realized exactly what Jackson was reporting and decided to call the lead detective on the case.

It took a while, but eventually called Jackson and you over to Detective’s Reisert’s office, settling you both down in a pair of chairs.

It was a series of routine questions. When did the phone call happen? What was said? Who was in the house at the time? Why didn’t you tell anyone? What did the voice sound like? 

At some point, you were ushered out of the room. It was silly, because it’s not like you had anything to do with this, but then Reisert asked: Who do you think it was? Is it possible you knew this person? Why were you called?

“She knows who I am,” Jackson answered. “I mentioned English,” Jackson didn’t specify exactly why he brought it up, “and this girl in my class, and she said she knew her. She could’ve been lying, though, I never told her a name.”

“And what do you think she meant by saying she was a lover? Do you think it’s possible this is someone who has a crush on you?”

Jackson laughed. “Probably.” He didn’t know many men or women who didn’t have a crush on him at some point.

“Someone who doesn’t like your girlfriend?”

Jackson’s mood got cold. The idea hadn’t even passed his mind. If this mysterious woman was the killer, and did have a crush on him, then of course, you were a threat. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and it was clear Detective Reisert could sense it, because he placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and said, “Son, don’t worry about it. Those are all the questions I have. You’re free to go.”

Jackson shrugged him off, not leaving. “Who was the victim?” he asked.

The detective hesitated. “Miya Reinhart. She’s currently missing, but we’re doing everything in our power to find her,” he said, getting up from his seat. “We’ll investigate the phone call and see if we can find out where it came from. If it’s anything worth checking out, we’ll call you back in.”

He ushered Jackson out the door. You were patiently waiting in the lobby, hands interocked, nervously glancing around. Why did some bitch have to die? he thought. Now I’m going to have to deal with all of this.

As he approached you, the name Miya Reinhart ringed in his head. He could’ve sworn he knew who it was. Maybe someone in one of his classes, a friend of a friend? It wasn’t until you both started walking out the door did it click in his head.

“It’s Miya, right?” he said, looking over at you. “The curvesetter?”

You groaned at the mention of her. “She thinks she’s so smart, it’s a wonder she has any friends at all. You know, just the other day —” you fell silent, taking in the look on his face. Slowly, your eyes filled with guilt “. . . Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You nodded your head, licking your lips. You opened your mouth to speak, but ended up not saying anything at all. Maybe it was for the better.

Jackson put his arm around you. He drove to your house, a two-story with a nice front lawn and backyard, pretty flowers and sprinkles that ran through the night. He parked in your driveway, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to hell with it and reach into the backseat, pulling out the little bag of presents he made for you.

“I don’t want you to be thinking about anything bad,” he started, handing you the gift. “I got you a little something, maybe it’ll take your mind off of things.”

You opened it up. Inside was a bath bomb, colored red, and two books. Horror books. Stephen King novels.

You paused for a moment. Jackson got a little nervous and glanced over at you, wondering if you liked it or not, but when he saw the little smile on your face, he relaxed.

"Thank you, Jackson," you said genuinely, closing the bag. "You didn't have to get something for me."

He shrugged. "You're my girl." He didn't say anything more after that. There wasn't anything else to add. That was all the reasoning he needed.

+++

Jackson liked to think he had a reasonably good friend group. There were four, not including him — Daniel, a football player who got here on a full scholarship ride; Aneria, a relatively calm girl who liked basic things like the mall and stripped blue jeans; Lisa, your ride-or-die, not much more needed to be said other than the fact that you two were so close he was almost concerned you were gay; and then, of course, you yourself. He wasn’t entirely sure how this group of people came to be, but the basics were — Daniel and Jackson were friends, you and Lisa were friends, Daniel had a crush on Aneria who was loosely friends with Lisa, and so Lisa agreed to try and bring them closer together, and lo and behold, everyone came together like ingredients in a cake.

Jackson’s eventual investigations revealed that Aneria did not like Daniel back, and so the entire thing was a waste except for the fact that he met you, but it wasn’t like he was booting himself out of this group anytime soon. 

“She’s been scared recently,” Daniel told Jackson one day as they were both smoking outside behind a dingy restaurant. “Because of the murder, you know?”

Ah, right. The police report came out the morning after Jackson went to the police station. Miya Reinhart’s body was found in the woods near her house. Police were apparently investigating some promising leads, but at the moment they had nothing more to say.

“And how does that benefit you?” Jackson wondered, taking in a slow puff.

“She’ll want protection,” Daniel said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been driving her back to her dorm recently, she doesn’t want to go by herself, nor do her parents. They like me, dude. Parents plus my masculine energy should be more than enough.”

“Masculine energy?” Jackson said with a scoff and chuckle. “Sure, dude. Just ask her out.”

“It’s not that easy. I mean, how’d you ask your girl out?”

Jackson leaned his head against the brick wall. “She wooed me.”

Daniel thought about it for a moment. “Maybe I’ve been doing it all wrong. I should be asking her for advice, not you.”

“That’s probably right.”

“You know, I’m planning a party next weekend. Halloween-themed.” Daniel got up from his position and dusted off all the dirt from his pants. “You gonna come?” He lent out his hand.

“Yeah, ‘course.” 

Jackson let himself get pulled up to his feet. They started walking down the street and back to the general vicinity of where both their neighborhoods lay.

“It’s a costume party, obviously. And I’m thinking I should make Halloween-themed treats, the type that moms make when we’re kids, you know?”

Jackson never experienced that. As a child, his Halloweens were his mom trying to do something nice for the family, then getting drunk and upset after his father never showed up. After a certain point, Jackson stopped anticipating any type of celebration and his mom stopped making an attempt. 

“It’s a little childish — but who cares? You can get the drinks, right?” Daniel continued.

Jackson nodded, hands in his pocket. “Yeah, and food, too. How many people are gonna be there?”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t want this one to be big. I was thinking just us five and, like, a plus-one.”

That was more than fine with Jackson. In all honesty, he didn’t like Daniel’s big parties, the ones where everyone he ever talked to was invited, where he had to clean the house out because Daniel was too crossfaded to move a muscle. 

At least he had something to look forward to this week.

+++

“I told you someone was going to get murdered.” 

Jackson sucked in a breath. He had an awful feeling when he picked up the phone — he should have known it would be her again. His eyes darted nervously around the room, paranoid — across the walls and the crevices of the room, the windows and the opened crack of the closet door.

It was almost enticing. It was like a game, in a sick, cruel way. Who was she? A tormenter, a killer. Criminal.

“What do you want?” Jackson asked, stern.

 “You.”

The audacity! he thought. “I have a girlfriend,” he responded simply, wondering whether this was the right time to call the police. He almost didn’t want to. He wanted to see how far this would go, but he knew that was stupid.

He was still wondering whether this whole thing was a prank or not. It was possible that this was a huge coincidence, and with the murder they were simply taking advantage of a bad situation. 

“Maybe she’ll be next.” 

Jackson’s heart thumped in his chest, so loud he could feel the beat throughout his entire body. He felt his body chill, goosebumps along his arms. No. This was not a prank anymore. 

“Listen here you bitch,” he spat into the receiver, “you hurt her in anyway I’ll find you and gut you like a common whore. You understand?” 

She laughed, no — giggled.

“You’re so protective. What a man.” 

Jackson was about to end the call and call the police but then she added, “But it doesn’t matter. You’re too late.” 

He could feel his breathing waver, shaking. In fear or anger, he didn’t know — probably both.

“What do you mean? What have you done to her?” 

The call ended.

“Fuck!”

Jackson threw the telephone into the wall, watching as it broke apart and left a dent. Upstairs, he could hear his mom call out his name in worry, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was already putting on his shoes, sprinting out of the house and towards his car. Without abandon, he started the engine and sped down the street towards your place. It would take a good ten minutes. Your parents house wasn’t as close to Westwood as his was. The whole time he couldn’t stop thinking, What if you were already dead?

His palms were sweaty, and he was driving recklessly. There were few cars on the road. He he was subject to honking more than once, and it was out of sheer luck that he avoided being pulled over by a cop car.

When he finally arrived, he rushed up to your front door and rapped, frustrated when there wasn’t an immediate response. Where the fuck were your parents?

He thought about going over to the side of your house and climbing to your window like he used to do when you first started dating, but the door opened and to his great relief it was you standing there, unharmed and looking rather confused.

But still. He couldn’t take any chances.

“Jackson?” you said, surprised. “What are you — ”

Jackson pushed his way inside and locked the door, wrapping his arms around your figure, letting your head rest against his chest as he used your comfort to calm his heart. It felt like the world was not functioning the way it was supposed to — everything was so fast and heavy but muted, like he was in a dream. A disturbing, horrible dream.

When you pulled away, you opened your mouth to speak, but he placed his finger against your lips, shushing you.

“Are all the windows locked?” he asked, his breathing steadying.

“Um.” You thought for a moment. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Jackson sighed, wanting to pinch your side for being so careless. How many times had he told you to keep all house openings locked?

He went to every window on the first floor, while you followed behind, barraging him with questions. What happened? Why are you here? Is something wrong?

He placed his hands on the side of your arms. “Call the police, okay, doll?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Just do it, I’ll explain after I check upstairs.”

“Babe, just tell me now.”

Jackson moved past you, but you grabbed his hand and dug your nails into his palm. “Tell me,” you said softly, but your tone indicated that you weren’t playing.

He paused. After taking a deep breath so he could speak properly without running out of air, he spilled everything. When he finished, you reacted in a way he didn’t expect, but was grateful for— calm and collected, albeit worried.

He went upstairs to lock the rest of the windows. He heard your faint voice talk to the police downstairs, explaining the situation. When he made it to your bedroom, however, he noticed something odd. There was a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Once he made sure that all the openings on this floor were locked, he removed one of the shirts, which had small red spots. Like a splatter.

He sniffed it, against his better judgement, and recoiled at the scent. It was most certainly blood. The iron was unmistakable. 

“What are you doing?”

He turned around like a deer caught in headlights.

Jackson held up the shirt. “What is this?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered. “Lady stuff.”

“Like what?” He narrowed his eyes. “Periods?”

With a faint blush, you nodded. He rolled his eyes, wishing that this type of conversation wasn’t so embarrasing.

“Give it to me,” you pleaded. “I was just in the process of cleaning that when you came. I don’t want the police to see this.”

Jackson gave the shirt back to you. What you wanted to say was — ‘I don’t want a bunch of old men to see this.’ 

+++

“One more time, let’s go through what happened when you came here,” Detective Reisert said. “When you told her — your girlfriend — what had happened, would you say she was frightened? Panicked?”

Jackson sighed. He was sitting on your couch with the police as they canvassed your home. You were being interviewed in the dining room, and your parents were on their way back from the work convention they were supposedly at. There was a swath of news reporters outside your house, as well as confused neighbors. All the curtians and blinds were shut closed, to give you guys at least a bit of privacy, but the nosie and flashing lights were just as distracting as the sight of them.

“I mean, yeah,” Jackson said. “But it’s not like she was having a panic attack. I don’t see why you’re interested in her reaction. I need to know whether she’s safe or not! What happened to the phone call? Did you trace it or — ”

“It’s from a burner account,” Reisert said. “The person who did this was smart. But we’ll find them.”

Jackson was not satisfied. “I want security. For her.”

“We’ll have someone protecting her twenty-four by seven. What I want to know is why she was so calm.”

Jackson couldn’t believe this. “Because she was. She’s just like that. I mean, her cat died a few months ago and she didn’t even shed a tear.”

“Didn’t even shed a tear,” he repeated slowly. “That’s odd. How’d the cat die?”

It was then that Jackson realized what the detective was implying. “She didn’t do this, if that’s what you think.”

“Everyone’s a suspect, son.”

“I’m not your son!”

Reisert paused. “You’re right. Where is your father, by the way?”

“Not important.”

“I think it is. I think it’s a parents responsibility to raise their child properly. To tell them not to say things like, ‘I’ll gut you like a common whore’. That is what you said, right?”

“She was threatening my girlfriend,” Jackson snapped.

“Of course, of course. What about the stain on her clothes? The blood?”

Jackson wished he had never mentioned that at all. “It’s from her period.”

“And what did it look like?”

“I dunno, red.”

“. . . Those are all the questions I have.”

Detective Reisert got up from his seat and gave a polite smile.

Jackson rubbed his temples, finding this whole situation to be absolutely insane.

When he passed by the dining room, he overheard you and some others officers talking. It’s not like it was a crime to eavesdrop. This wasn’t a police station, he could stand wherever he wanted.

“It was a period stain,” you said with an exasperated tone.

“On your shirt?”

“Yes, I was . . . I was doing something, and I didn’t have a towel, you know? I don’t want to explain this, I shouldn’t have to! It’s personal.”

“Can we see the shirt?”

“It’s upstairs, but I already cleaned it.”

“With what?”

“Hydrogen peroxide. I-It’s not weird, I’ve been doing it since I was eleven. Ask my mom when she comes back, she’s the one who taught me.”

“We will. Thank you for your time.”

You got up, the chair rubbing against the hardwood floor. You walked over to Jackson with tears in your eyes. He immediately pulled you into a hug, guiding you away from everyone else and towards a more secluded area.

“Shh, shhh, it’s okay.” He rubbed your back, soothing. If only Detective Reisert could see you now. Look what his team had done to her. “Let it all out.”

“I wanna go upstairs,” you cried, grasping onto his shirt. 

“Yeah, I’ll take you.”

They went to the guest room, as your bedroom was being occupied. He laid you down on the bed and wrapped a blanket around you two, letting you sob into his jacket. It was wet now, which he didn’t like, but he wasn’t about to stop you or move your head.

As he soothed you, he thought about everything that was going on. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, to him and his girlfriend of all people. And the thought of you being targeted . . . 

They were still like that for a while. Your parents came back home and made a big fuss, rightfully. They never liked Jackson that much, so after thanking him with a half-assed smile they asked him to leave the house. There was no way Jackson was going to leave you after this, but the police officer who was being stationed at your house insisted as well, so reluctantly, he agreed and headed back home. He kept you on call the entire night, even when you were sleeping. He needed to hear you, even if it was just your breathing. He needed to make sure you were alright. 

+++

“That’s absolutely crazy,” Aneria said, walking side by side with Jackson. They were both heading to their next class which they both shared. They always walked together. Usually Jackson would drop her off and go on his own way, but he’d been missing too many classes and he didn’t want to get in trouble with the school. If that happened they would contact his father, and his father would just give him the fist.

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed, kicking a small pebble across the sidewalk. You were staying at home for the time being. You had taken a few days off, and while he knew you were protected, he still couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“What exactly happened?” Aneria asked, brushing back her blonde hair. “I mean, I heard rumors that they think it might be . . . you know . . .”

“Might be what?” Jackson snapped, turning to look at her. He didn’t mean to lose his patience, but he was in a bad mood. He sighed. “Sorry. I’m just pissed. Tell me.”

Aneria hesitated, then spoke, “That it might be her this whole time.”

Jackson paused in his tracks and turned to look at Aneria. “It’s not. It’s not, why would she do that?”

“I’m not saying I think it’s her, I’m just letting you know how people are feeling,” Aneria said with a shrug. “Also,” she added nervously, “I’m looking out for you.”

She placed a hand on Jackson’s arm. He felt mildly uncomfortable.

“I’m worried about you. Some psycho is stalking you. She’s murdered people, and I — I’m worried about you. So is James, even though he might not say it.”

Jackson shrugged her hand off. “I’m flattered.”

Aneria didn’t say anything more after that. When they got to class, a few people were looking at him with pitiful stares, and after the lecture was finished, the professor pulled him aside to ask if he was okay. Jackson said he was, which was a lie, but he was not about to pour out his heart and feelings to the old man who used to yell at him for not doing his work. 

+++

———

(This is where I stopped writing 😬)

The next part is a short scene where Jackson reminisces about old times and how he met you. Back in highschool you were a good student, but also a preppy bitch and he didn’t really like you. But somehow you won over his heart and instead of going to some fancy college like you thought he would, you ended up staying with him in community college, which he suspects is the reason your parents don’t like him so much.

He also talks about the fact that he’s never had sex with you, and is actually a virgin. He’s nervous about the intimacy.

+++

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jackson chastised, pulling you away from the rest of the crowd and into his arms.

They were at a football game.  

So basically this a small scene where Jackson and the rest of the crew except Lisa and Aneria are at this football game. The next day they realize someone else was murdered, and the police clear you up as a suspect because of your alibi.

In another scene, you try to have sex with Jackson, but he pushes you off. You get a little annoyed and decide to just call it a day, because you’re under the assumption that he has slept with people before, he just doesn’t want to sleep with you.

The police start looking into more clues related to Jackson. They think this is the work of some yandere/stalker, and they think it might be Aneria for a hot moment because she so obviously has a crush on Jackson. They end up dropping that train of thought.

At the Halloween party, Aneria makes a move on Jackson, inviting him into a bedroom upstairs. But you stop her by stabbing her through the heart. Jackson is shocked and also incredibly turned on. You rape him. He struggles at first but eventually gives in and fucks you back. It was supposed to be a blood kink, knife play sort of scene that was really rough and crazy on both sides.

Jackson doesn’t understand fully though, because you weren’t there during the time of one of the murders. You tell him not to worry about it. You suggest running away to some other state or maybe a foreign country. Jackson is ready to leave it all behind.

As you get in the car before anyone notices something is wrong, Jackson notices Lisa in the driver’s seat. She’s been your accomplice this whole time, and she was the one who murdered someone at a football game. You both drive into the night and are never heard from again. 

________________

Taglist in case anyone's still interested: @shroombloom-rry @madnessandobsession @henrywintersdearestgirl @hllywdwhre @your-nanas-house @ellebelleshelby @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008 @wild-rose-35 @nela-cutie @slut4thebroken @flwrs4aust @httpxgray

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eight

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hey! Quick note, this part has a LOT going on, it jumps from pov 2 or 3 times, but there's details mentioned that will make more sense later on, I hope that leaves no one confused:) Also there are a few new characters coming in, some will stay, some won't, so keep that in mind! I was gonna end this part like halfway through and then post, but it felt a little unfinished, so here it is hope you enjoy:))) x

Warnings: A short scene revolving around body image, mentions of scars, drugs, sobriety and heavy drinking

Masterlist

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) In the area, fancy meeting up for coffee?

It had been a good few days since I had last messaged either Jamie or Matty. Though the latter hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that I had suddenly distanced myself. Jamie, on the other hand, had and had surprisingly given me some space with it. 

Well, up until now that was.

It was a weary sigh that escaped me when I gazed down at my phone, needless chatter of gossiping mums and squealing children having faded far into the background.

I had only just managed to drop Teddy off at nursery, dipping and diving through the crowd to deliver him right to the classroom door, and was already halfway out of the playground now. It was my first day off in weeks- like proper day off. And now, I had Jamie to deal with.

Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, but saying that, I wasn’t so much of a twat to just ignore the first message he’d sent me in a while. Especially after I'd disregarded all of the man's previous efforts. Still I couldn't quite stop myself from huffing quietly as I shot him back a message, anxiety creeping in.

Messages now Closer to Tufnell Park than the studio at the minute

Jamie’s response came only seconds later.

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) No worries! Meet you near The Dome?

Sidestepping a few latecomers as I exited the school gate, I chewed on my bottom lip but eventually sent a text to let Jamie know that I'd be there. I only hoped that the man didn't ask too many questions about my sudden disappearance, I wasn’t too sure I could take the heat.

Early morning rush hour was in full swing by the time I’d made my way out onto the highstreet, people bustled past me to get to work without a care, or even an apology, for anyone who got in their way, zooming on ahead like a soldier in a storm. That was one of the things that had taken me some time to get used to, in truth. How different the crowds of London were to the tiny population of my hometown.

I'd just surpassed the underground station when I caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of dishevelled hair. Jamie stood a way ahead, smiling at the passersby with his hands shoved deeply into the lining of his coat's pockets. He wore a pair of dark, fitted trousers and had a smart looking scarf thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder, something to shelter him from the exaggerated cold. 

Somehow, his face seemed to brighten upon seeing me approach.

"Glad you could make it!" He said as I approached, and he clapped my upper arm in light greeting. "Thought you would have managed to beat me here though."

I made do with a small smile, before gesturing my head over towards where a quaint cafe sat up a few doors down so that we could begin walking.

"Nah, it's pretty hectic trying to escape the crowds at this time. Did you catch the tube up here then?" I conversed and saw Jamie’s brow dip for the briefest of moments before he hastily shook his head at my question.

"Oh, no. Was just leaving a meeting up in Shoreditch, you were on my route so I thought I'd ask."

I gave a low hum, unsure, but didn't comment on it when I thanked him for holding the door open for me to pass through.

"What are you in the mood for then? It's on me."

"Ah, no it's-"

I didn't even get the chance to decline the offer before Jamie was waving me off with a charming smile and a wave of his arm. "Honestly, mate. It's fine, a cup of coffee won't have me out on my arse. So what do you want?"

Blinking with a somewhat disbelieving shake of my head, I prattled off my usual order in a low murmur and told Jamie that I'd find us a table. Just wanting to be helpful, but also to get a second to think things through.

The cafe wasn't too busy. It held the expected usuals; a handful of early-rising old timers and a couple of suits headed in late. So there were a few free tables up for grabs. I picked the one by the window.

Jamie joined me a few minutes later, wearing his usual grin as he carried over a tray of goodies. I raised an eyebrow at the mountain of sweet pastries procured but the man simply shrugged.

"Looked like you'd had a long morning, figured you to be the chocolate type." He commented as he nudged a large croissant in my direction.

Just looking at the buttery roll made my stomach grumble. Teddy and I had been in a wee bit of a rush this morning to get out of the house after my alarm had failed to wake us, so I'd skipped breakfast and picked Teds up something to eat on the way into school.

Toying with the rim of the coffee's handle, I gave Jamie an appreciative smile. “Cheers.” I breathed out and carefully pulled the plate in a little closer.

After that we both simply sipped at our warm drinks for a short while, watching as the morning commuters passed by the large window. It was a calm affair and far from as awkward as I might've expected the meeting to be. In fact, it was actually the first time Jamie and I had met up since that day at the studio, and even then we hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat. 

Still, Jamie’s company felt very similar to that of Adi's- perhaps even Finn's. It allowed me to relax a little. 

It was only after I'd broken off the end of my croissant that I spoke up.

"So, is driving across London at nine in the morning just to buy me a drink your idea of a date, or do you do this with all your mates?"

Jamie blinked at me once, twice, before his eyes widened in alarm, which caused me to, quite literally, snort into my tea.

"I'm joking! Don't fret. Just wondering why the sudden change in pace."

Jamie gifted me a sheepish grin in response and took a quick swig of his coffee before he finally replied.

"You went quiet on us." He shrugged as he picked apart a blueberry muffin, separating the berries from the soft sponge, which amused me somewhat. "Gave you a couple days to breathe, but I reckon you've had long enough. You wanna tell me what's up?"

My eyes strayed back to the window as I withheld a sigh, knowing full well that this had been coming. 

“You know how it is.” I shrugged, almost petulant, and gripped at my cup a little tighter. "Just got busy. I mean, you have to deal with Matty and the band constantly. Can’t be an easy feat."

I received a laugh in turn but my attempt at a little lighthearted humour didn't derail Jamie.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, and you really do have no reason to trust me, of all people, with your problems. But I am here if you ever need anything. Can't speak for Matty, try as I might, but I wouldn't put it past him to go completely out of his way to do whatever you asked either." He chuckled to himself then, like he knew something I didn’t. "He actually hasn't been able to stop talking about you, you know. Not since we met."

I tapped at the mug and felt my tongue prod the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting at Jamie’s words. I just shook my head.

"Doubt he's even noticed I've stopped replying." I quipped lightly, trying to shrug off the sudden emotion that admission had stirred up.

"Ah, so you have been ignoring us then."

I inhaled sharply and dropped my gaze. I couldn’t outright lie to him. 

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a lot going on, you know? This is all new for me, you and Matty, you've just. I don't even know. You just turned up out of the blue and..."

"Sort of invited ourselves into your life?" Jamie filled in with a wry smile.

"No, no! That's- that's not what I meant. Honestly. It's just strange. Different from what I expected." I attempted to backtrack, but ultimately failed.

"No, I get it." Jamie assured, but didn't push the topic any further. "You're stupid, by the way, if you think Matty hasn't noticed. In all the time I've known him, the idiot’s only ever texted me when he's needed something- but the last couple days? I don't think my phone’s stopped going off."

I shovelled another piece of the chocolatey pastry into my mouth to keep myself from replying or reading too much into that.

Jamie released a breathy chuckle and shook his head, as though he could read my reaction, my thoughts. "You've been good for him so far, Mouse. No parties. No drugs. Can't say the same thing about the drink, but he's cut a lot of it out. And I'm chalking that all up to you, ‘cause I can't think of anything else that might've changed in his life to have forced his hand like this."

His words confused me, but then he paused for a moment and purposely caught my eye. 

"Whatever's happened, don't let it keep you from opening up. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. Besides, you can never have too many friends, can you?"

I wiped at my mouth before dipping my head in quiet assent. "No. I ‘spose I can do friends."

Jamie all but beamed, looking pretty proud of himself as he reached across the table for a scone. "Now, tell me all the things that I've missed."

***

Matty practically jumped out of his seat when he heard the front door rattle shut. 

He'd been on edge since the moment he had woken up, but had decided to try for once. He made breakfast (well, rather a late lunch), tried all that meditating malarky (his therapist would be, oh so, proud), and even ended up doing a loop of the block in a desperate attempt to keep his chaotic mind at bay. But nothing. Nothing. Had been able to keep him from wearing the soles of his feet into the fucking floorboards. 

"And where’ve you been?" Matty instigated as soon as Jamie strolled into his sitting room with his usual smile, shaking off the autumn chill he’d invited in with him.

"Around." Was all the twat replied as he draped his heavy overcoat on the back of one of the upholstered armchairs. He paused to eye Matty closely. "Why, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Matty’s scowl was infamous by this point, but Jamie was one of the fair few to have gotten used to it. A right shame, that. "Nothing! Just- I texted you, wanted an update."

Jamie quirked an amused brow his way and it took all of Matty’s nervous pent up energy not to blow up at him. He could feel his own irritation building though, it tingled in the tips of his fingers and raised goosebumps across his skin. 

"That all? You know the team won't give us an answer until they’re certain that it all won't fall through."

Matty gritted his teeth together and tugged a rough hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's bollocks! It's our fucking album, why do they get a say in what happens with it?"

Jamie sighed quietly to himself as he wandered over towards the heavyset globe sat in the far corner. Matty watched on as he slid its top off and procured a pair of tumblers, pouring two fingers of murky whiskey into each of the old fashioned glasses.

"You know why, mate." 

They'd had this conversation too many times before. And yet,

Matty clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, lashing out, but his knuckles whitened around the glass when Jamie pressed it into his palm. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Thought you wanted me off the drink?" He remarked coldly but swallowed the spirit down before Jamie could give him an actual answer, or take it away. He only wished that the alcohol burned brighter, these days it barely left a bitter tang on his tongue.

Jamie didn't touch his own as he made his way on over towards the chaise lounge, but his fingertips tapped a smooth rhythm against the crystal. The house didn’t make a sound.

Matty followed, as expected, restlessly flinging his feet up onto the centre table before his agitation once again began to overwhelm him. He huffed when he dropped them back to the floor again, the heavy vibrations grounding him somewhat as he moved to rest his elbows on the knobs of his knees.

"That newest story's doing wonders for you right now though." Jamie told him gently when Matty’s quick eyes met his gaze, his hands still toying with the full glass. "They want to rebuild your image. Figure it'll help with album presales, and they're not really all that wrong, mate. Since you've been out of um-”

“You can say it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but barrelled on, “Since you've been out of rehab. Well, the public's been enjoying seeing this new side of you. Besides, I thought you liked whatever her name was."

With a scoff, Matty forced his gaze away. "It's complete shit and you know it. PR just wants control. For me to fall in line. And the public couldn't give a single fuck about what I do! All they live for is the gossip, the drama. And that's what I do best, no? Don't worry though, J, I'm sure I'll fuck up sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that." Jamie scolded as he pushed his tumbler onto the table and moved a little closer. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his fingers twitching on the inseam of his leg to keep himself from reaching out to comfort.

"Oh, fucking come off it, Jamie! You know it's true." Matty spat back, the rage once again building. These past few days had had him fraying. "I bet they’re already sitting there at that table just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I already know they’ll want to be the first in the know, when I finally do fuck up again. Spout about what a waste of space I am! How they should've sacked me off sooner. That it should've been me and not-"

"Don't."

Jamie’s voice cut through the room like a blaring siren, but Matty had never heard him speak so lowly. 

"Don't go there. He wouldn't want you thinking that way."

Matty locked his jaw and narrowed his scrutinising eyes at Jamie. "Don't act like you know what he'd want."

Jamie glanced away for the briefest of seconds and inhaled slowly before his gaze finally returned. Matty could see his own torment reflected in Jamie’s sad eyes. "It hurt me too. You know that."

Matty forced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unable to deal with the many emotions that threatened to overpower him. He swiped Jamie's drink off of the table and swallowed it down in one, then swiftly stood and strode across the room to make another.

The amber liquid warmed his chest as expected and he felt the moment it hit his empty stomach. He braced himself against the globe's golden stand, leaving his hair to fall helplessly into his face. Thankfully, it shielded his glossy eyes from Jamie’s view.

It was still so hard. Most nights it was all he could ever picture-

No. Not today, he rebuked. Not now. Not again.

It was a never ending nightmare that he just couldn't seem to wake himself up from. And how he fucking wished he could wake up.

Matty went to refill the glass again but faltered. His hand stilled, midair, fingers itching to grab at the ancient old bourbon that sat only inches away, but instead he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

Too many notifications cluttered the screen. But not a single one from the person he wanted to talk to most. 

In a fit of dismay, he went to throw the stupid thing at the nearest wall but a hand caught his wrist before he could do any real damage.

Matty’s eyes flickered up to meet Jamie’s- he choked.

"I just-" He tried to force out but the words felt like thick bile in his throat. His lip trembled and Jamie tugged him close. Matty wondered when he'd ever allowed the man to get so close. To breach his high walls.

"I know." Jamie hushed him, allowing a steady hand to come to rest at the back of Matty’s neck. "I know, mate."

Matty wondered if he truly did.

***

Mesmerising. 

I let the word play over and over on a loop in my head as my fingertips trailed along the jagged lines of my torso. 

Seventeen I'd been- my first time with this boy from college and he had called the scars I was forced to bare mesmerising. As if they were something special, something to be proud of. I'd frozen back then, the word had, so suddenly, hindered my entire world, but he'd gone on exploring without even noticing the way my mind had started to spiral.

The scars had always been a difficult pill to swallow. They weren't mine. I hated how others could so easily claim their own. His scars. My scars. Hers. I didn't want them. They were just there. A myriad of haunted memories to which I'd been burdened with since the age of seven.

All these years later and still I couldn't recall the smooth expanse of skin that had once been there- untarnished, unharmed.

The bronze shadows, created by the setting sun which illuminated my bedroom walls in a burning shade of amber, crawled across the floorboards beneath my feet and caressed my skin. They dipped and curved, exaggerating sharp lines and hallowing shallow slopes.

I'd only meant to have a quick shower, in and out, before Finn inevitably ended up dropping Teddy back home. But I'd left the wardrobe door wide open in my haste to leave early this morning and had yet to shut it, exposing the slim mirror attached to the inside of the wooden door. A slip up.

So now my distorted body stared back at me mercilessly and I couldn't find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The meek girl stood within its four cutting lines just wasn't me. It was simply the reflection of a sheltered kid who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly. 

Her skin, hardly what you'd pale but not far off, was flushed and pink all over from the steam of the shower. Her hair, still damp and wet, clung to the majority of her forehead and dripped water droplets down the line of her throat. Her eyes, usually a deep, warm colour, were somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and long lashes. The dark circles that sat beneath them only emphasised the muted scarlet that rimmed her waterline- a lack of sleep. 

I wet my lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted enough so that my front teeth could just about be seen. Her face was lined by worry. Fine wrinkles etched themselves around the corners of her eyes and mouth, then again between her furrowed brows.

The scars, faded but somehow still raw, swept up her neck and collarbone, and jumped over her right shoulder. One crept across the cut of her jaw, whilst another sliced through the bridge of her nose to meet another, smaller scar, on her cheek. Her chest, where it had been previously impaled, was now stretched and knitted. Some lines were a few shades darker than her natural complexion, maroon, and oftentimes cardinal. Others were lighter, pale and whitened. Faded.

A gruesome gash down the centre of her abdomen led to a spattering of fine hairs that lined her navel, trailing low beneath the hem of the towel she'd wrapped around her waist earlier. Her hands were now fisted at her sides though, so much so that prominent veins danced up the insides of her forearms, skirting around the few fawn freckles that painted her skin.

Mesmerising.

The sudden blare of a mobile ringing sent a sharp chill up my spine and knocked the air back into me. Shakily I inhaled, averting my eyes from the mirrored prison, then spun round on my heel to answer the call.

There was no greeting, no small talk. It was cutthroat and to the point.

"I need a drink. You coming?"

And I had never answered a question quicker.

--

It was a hard task, squinting down at my phone in an attempt to concentrate on the text I was trying to send to Finn, but the strobe lights and throng of people around me were making the task rather fucking difficult.

To be honest though, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I'd stepped foot inside a club. Or even spent an entire evening sat in the local pub. But I’d been all but desperate, and so, in the heat of the moment, I had practically jumped at the first offer I’d been given. 

I was beginning to second guess that decision now though as I pushed my way through the rowdy crowds, the assorted smell of liquor and sweat already clinging to my clothes. I hadn't really put too much thought into those, too busy trying to escape my own head. Really, I’d just thrown on an old skirt from my uni days, a top that made my tits look great but hid the scar there, and the well-worn leather jacket Finn had gifted me at the end of my first year working on the show.

I had just sent the text off, double checking with the man himself that he was still alright to have Teddy til the following morning, when a raised voice caught my attention.

Frowning, my head snapped up but that soon faded once I caught sight of the tall ginger propped up against the bar not too far away. My lips curled up into a lopsided grin on their own command and I was quick to pocket my phone, already moving towards him.

"Mighty Mouse. You actually made it!" Ronan Kelly bellowed in that familiar Irish lilt of his, welcoming me in with a hearty squeeze to the waist as we embraced. "It's a feckin' miracle!"

I gave him an impish smile and dipped my head slightly to rub at my nose, then made the effort to catch Ronan's icy gaze. "I guess it has been a while."

"A while- Babe, I ain't seen you in months!" Ronan laughed, flashing a row of white teeth and wrinkling his bright blue eyes. I felt some of my worries ease at the sight of the man's familiar face, a warm reminder of older days. "Can't believe you actually agreed to come out with us!"

I shook my head and released an airy chuckle, "You know how it is, Ro- got Teddy to worry about now."

Ronan's face, if possible, lit up even further at the mention of the small toddler. "Ah, grand! How is the wean? At school now, right?"

It was sweet of him to ask and I smiled up at him as I went to answer, but was forced further into Ronan’s space when some prat barged past me to get to the bar. Ronan caught me by the waist with a natural ease he’d always been capable of and narrowed his eyes at the guilty party from over my shoulder. 

Not wanting things to escalate, I did my best to quickly wave it off and distract. "Teddy's good!" I heard myself tell him, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pulsing music, tiptoeing almost now in his grasp. "He's with Finn at the moment."

Ronan's gaze reluctantly trailed back to me upon hearing me speak, he reluctantly smiled and nodded but had yet to drop his hands from where they were now stationed at my hips.

"I'm sure Finn is completely lovin' that."

With a light laugh, I rolled my eyes at his sarky reply and moved to press my forearm up against the edge of the bar’s countertop. "They're a proper little duo. Finn has been a saint, what with all his help and that. Don't think I'd be standing here today without him really."

"Well, let's cheers to that then, hey?" Ronan grinned, then raised a hand to gesture over towards the barman.

Within seconds two pints were being placed on the bartop, a dizzying yellow colour filled to the brim with minuscule bubbles that had my mouth watering. It had been a long while since a fresh pint of lager had wet my lips and it helped that Ronan’s presence was a comfort.

"Sláinte!" He announced brashly, already having hoisted his glass into the air between us.

"Cheers!" I laughed, clinking our glasses together before gulping down a too large swig.

"That's what I like to see!" Ronan whooped, almost proudly. He squeezed my right hip in celebration before choosing to steer us both away from the bar and over towards a wall lined with darkened booths. "Come on, Auley and everyone's waiting over here, been excited to see ya!”

I only nodded in reply, pint close to my chest as I followed after him, bobbing between an array of patrons effortlessly now. The earlier anxiety shovelled deep, deep down.

***

Withdrawal was something Matty had never thought too much about in the years before. He'd always had everything right there, on tap. A quick hit, a line just to pick him up. It always felt so easy.

But now, without the copious amount of pills, the parties, he finally realised why the fuck people were never able to stay away for too long. Because sooner or later, they always ended up crawling back.

It wasn't so much the flu-ish like sickness that had him reeling, although he really could've done without the high-fever sweats and the full body tremors. It was more that ever encompassing sorrow. The depression that never seemed to lift- but then again, depressed wasn't even the first word he would use to describe it. It was like a thick plume of murky black that fogged every exit, far beyond the gut wrenching nausea that clawed away at his insides at all hours of the day, or the constant drilling in his head that kept him from sleep.

Being without- 

Being without was practically maddening. A spiral of hellish days with no escape, the only choice he had was to carry on or simply turn back. And he'd come too far now to run towards the latter, he’d already made that mistake. And if he had anything to thank his godforsaken mother for, it was the sheer stubbornness they both so clearly shared.

Matty couldn't complain though, he wouldn’t, as much as he wished he often could though, because he was still leaning heavily on the spirits. He knew. As well as the band and Jamie, who'd also been hellbent on 'helping'. In their own way.

Although the idiots hadn't made things much easier for him, the guys hadn't put up much of a fight against his drunk ramblings or the never ending mood swings. They just took it all in stride. Which Matty was mostly grateful for.

The alcohol though, he'd currently taken to using as a crutch. He'd drink a little more and more just to cope with the effects, the longing, to get him through to the next day. But he'd never felt too dependent on it before and didn't feel as though it was a massive problem now, he'd been drinking since before he'd worked out how to pick the lock on his dad’s old liquor cabinet. He’d keep drinking ‘til he was near the grave.

The drinking though, was just a baby habit in comparison to the drugs.

It was also how he'd managed to find himself out on a Thursday night. 

He'd actually managed to forgo Hann's mothering this time, sending his mate off home early from the studio before he'd called up an old friend. Itching for that familiarity of older times, shaking with it really, but knowing better.

"Oi, Healy- you still with us?" Crowed a loud voice in his left ear.

Matty startled at it and turned back around to find the one and only Danny Willis hanging over his shoulder, usual open-mouthed grin on full display, a drink in hand.

He blinked up at him once before Matty’s lips turned upwards into a lazy smile, he spun around on his foot to get further in his friend's face. "Thought you'd gone off with that bird?"

"Who, blondie?" Danny questioned, smirking now. "Nah, wouldn't have left you hanging all alone, mate."

Matty snorted.

"Ah, so you do care!" He drained the dregs of his bourbon then grinned at the twat, "Always wondered whether you fancied me, Danny boy! Guess this just proves it, don’t it?"

Danny wound an arm around his shoulders and leant in to press a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek. Matty pulled away, cackling as he tried to shrug the added weight off.

"Prick." Matty scoffed lightly, stumbling as he rubbed at his face. He grunted at the small group he'd accidentally bulldozed into in his haste and they all scowled in return, but it wasn't long before Danny jumped in to rescue and steer him away.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, hey? The next bar awaits and all that." Danny proclaimed, chucking back the remnants of his own drink. Matty chuckled when the man winced and then wiped the corners of his mouth. "Reckon we might be able to find someone decent for you to take home there!"

Matty merely hummed in reply as they pushed their way through a set of double doors and out into the night, not really listening as he propped himself up against Dan's side, ignoring the whispers that tended to follow wherever he went.

"Ah, look at that, would you!" Danny's voice came again, right by his ear, as he paused on the pavement to cock his chin outwards, forcing Matty to follow his gaze. "It's a full moon!"

Matty rolled his eyes.

***

"Come on, Mouse!" Auley tried for the umpteenth time that night. His larger than life smile, I noted, had always been much gentler than that of his brother's. "You can't stay cooped up in this booth all evenin'! You need to put yourself out there, darlin’- have some fun!"

I shook my head, chuckling up at the giant of a man standing before me. "I swear I'm fine here, Aul. You go and have enough fun for the both of us."

Auley's face scrunched up in distaste as he reluctantly pushed away from the table's edge, the dim lights of the bar illuminating his hair, almost seeming to set it alight as it added a halogen glow to the already coppery red.

Ronan chose that moment to reappear, brushing past his brother to settle back into the booth next to me. He set two more drinks down on the table. "Leave the poor lass alone, won’t you, Aul! You know how she gets."

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly, and Auley did the same as he slowly backed away, mouth quirked upwards. "Yeah, yeah. Yer like a pair of old women, you two- peas in a pod or somethin'."

"Ah, shove off!" Ronan laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his whole body. "Think I can hear the dance floor callin' your name, mate."

"Too right." Auley quipped, flashing another bright grin at his brother before he turned back to face me. "Know that this isn't over just yet. You might've won this battle but you ain't won the war, darlin’. I'll soon get that dance."

I snorted, but was unable to help my grin. "One day, babe."

Auley winked at me and I watched on as he melted into the mob of people before us, leaving Ronan and I alone.

I observed the crowd for a long moment, taking note of all their dizzying smiles. For a Thursday night, the bar was oddly rampacked, but I couldn't find it in myself to complain too much, not when everyone seemed to be having a great time. 

There was a large group of us out tonight. Alongside asking me to join, Ronan and Auley had brought along the entirety of their flat as well as a few others, some from uni, others from work, I reckoned. They'd all split up within the first half hour though, but they kept drifting back and forth, I could easily spot Penn and his brightly coloured shirt over by the snooker table in the very far corner, and most of the girls had crowded together out on the dance floor. 

"Havin' a good night then?"

I repositioned myself upon hearing Ronan's question, he was closer now in an attempt to be heard over the music, and I sipped at the foamy top of my pint before answering. "Yeah, I am. It's, well it's been a while since I last did anything like this." I chuckled, eyes roaming the room again. 

Ronan shifted closer once more, the booth’s leather seat squeaking quietly under his weight as the song on the overhead speakers faded into the next.

"I'm glad. We haven't seen you proper since yer last year at uni."

It was true but that wasn't just down to me, I felt the need to say. But instead gave him a small smile as I just shrugged, thumbing the edge of the table, "Life gets busy with a baby. Plus, it's not as though any of you lot had time to just drop by and see me, with all your classes and what not."

Ronan’s lips pursed at my words and a quiet stretched between us. I watched on as he fiddled with the bottom of his pint glass, before finally he replied. "Could've made time. Finn did. Cassie, too. Just- it felt strange, going back after that summer and you not bein' there."

To be honest, I didn't really know what to say to that. 

As much as I had loved my time at university, I hadn't really had much space for it in my life after Teddy had come along. And although I’d never regretted my decision to leave, not after everything I'd gone through to get to where I am today. Because my God, had that been hard. I did sometimes miss the memories I’d made there, the people I’d met and, surprisingly, the workload too. It made me question whether I could have had it all, a degree and a baby. Although, I somehow doubted that that was what Ronan was grasping at here.

But it wouldn’t do well to continue to dwell on the past. I'd already spent a large portion of my life doing exactly that, and I’d known in the long run that I would have to have let go of some things in order to provide a better life for Teddy, better than the one that I’d had. I wanted my son to have every possible opportunity, every choice, in order to better himself. I wanted him to be a kid for as long as life would let him.

And as much as I really did love spending time with Ronan and the old gang, I also knew that come tomorrow morning I had actual commitments and responsibilities to attend to. I didn't have the opportunity anymore to skive and bunk off of lectures so that I could deal with a nasty hangover and sleep in. Teddy was always relying on me to come through. And come through I would. Every time.

But right now! I just needed to let my hair down. Enjoy an evening away, and maybe (hopefully) get rid of some of that tension that had been piling up over the previous weeks.

Thankfully though, I was saved from answering when a flushed Alice came hurrying over, clinking her cocktail on the table so hard it's fruity contents spilled out across the wooden surface. The overexcited girl, who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, didn't pay much mind to the mess as she threw herself into our booth and peered over her shoulder to search for something or other. 

I shot Ronan a bewildered look, but the ginger merely widened his eyes at me as if to say that he had no clue what was going on either. 

"Er, you alright, Al?"

Alice's head snapped back so fast that I honestly fretted a little over the whiplash she must've felt.

"No?! Do I look alright?" Alice stressed, digging her perfectly painted nails into the red cushion that lined the booth's back. "You'll never believe who Penn and I just saw walk in!"

I only hid a smile to myself whilst Ronan decided to humour Alice. "Who d’ya see, Ali-cat?"

Alice's face was nothing like I had ever seen before, her usual pretty smile had been traded in for a kilowatt grin, bunching her rosy cheeks and narrowing her soft brown eyes.

"That singer! You know- the one with the hair and the face! Ah, what's his name? From that band!"

"Matty!" Answered Indra- seemingly a friend of a friend of a friend- who had bounded up to our table in the time Alice had been freaking out, practically hyperventilating. "The. Matty Healy!"

"That's who!" Alice exclaimed and was nodding away excitedly now, whilst I simply sat frozen, drink halfway to my lips.

"Didn't you interview him?" Indra queried suddenly, her eyes as wide as saucers whilst her gaze flitted back and forth between me and the bar at an impossible pace.

Shakily, I set my glass down.

"You did?" Ronan piped up beside me. I swallowed thickly before turning my head towards him, then back towards the two girls, who were anxiously waiting on my reply.

"Uh, yeah." It felt as though I’d forced the words out of my mouth. A ball of cotton having replaced my tongue.

"Oh, Mouse! Introduce us, would you? Please!" Alice all but squealed imploringly.

My alarmed eyes flickered back to Ronan again, then Indra, and then Alice.

My mouth had never felt so dry as I tried my best to ground myself, to get over the sudden, unexpected headfuck that had sent my mind reeling.

"Ah, I don't know, Al. It's, well. I-" I really did struggle to find the right words that could possibly get me out of this entire situation, but before I even knew what was happening, Indra was already reaching for me and pulling me up out of the booth. 

Alice jumped up to join her and patted my sleeve eagerly before proceeding to try and drag me away. Ronan, thank the stars, reached out to stop them just in time, tugging on the hem of my jacket and shooting the two girls a sharp look.

"Oi, you two. Behave, will yer? You didn't even give her the chance to answer."

Alice looked up and flashed me a sheepish grin, "Sorry, hun."

Feeling sheepish and rather relieved, really, to be freed from all the clawing hands, I waved her apology off, knowing Ali was only just drunk and excited. "It's fine, just- I think I'm better off heading home now in truth. You know, I've got Teddy to think about."

Both of the girls' disappointment was overwhelmingly obvious, but they didn't push it any further, simply nodded and tried to smile as best as they could.

"No worries, Mouse. You get on home, babe. Sorry again."

"Wait, you're not actually leaving, are you?" Ronan questioned suddenly, causing me to cast a glance over at him. He was frowning now, that much was obvious from the deep set line rapidly forming between his bushy brows. "It's not 'cause of that tosser, is it?"

Immediately, I felt myself shake my head, already knowing that the lie would taste bitter in my mouth.

"Ah, come off it! Stay for another round at least." Ronan goaded me, moving to stand with the girls, his hand still on my elbow though.

"Nah, I'd best head home, Ro. I don't want to be dealing with a hangover as well as a screaming toddler tomorrow morning." I insisted with a lighthearted chuckle, I gifted him an apologetic smile whilst fishing out my phone to call a cab.

It wasn't even late yet, just gone eleven, and there was an unread text from Finn demanding that I have some fun. I gave a heavy sigh.

"Don't be like that, babe. Come on, one more drink and I'll even walk you home." Ronan raised a brow just as he jutted out his jaw and smiled.

It was tempting but...

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Honestly, Ro-"

But the man wouldn't hear it. "Come on, ladies. Help me out here!" He implored to both of the girls standing either side of him now, the way he towered them was almost funny.

Indra giggled just as Ronan wrapped his strong arms around her and Alice, shaking them a little. Alice simply rolled her eyes at him in amusement, but pulled away slightly to squeeze my hand.

"It's up to you, M. You know we love seeing you, but I can call you a cab if you really want to head off now."

I could only smile at her and silently questioned why we didn't spend more time together outside of the group. I could easily recall Finn saying something or other about a pottery class the two of them had attended the previous weekend and wondered if that would be something I might enjoy.

"I'll be fine, babe. Thank you, though." I told her kindly, before turning to face Ronan. "You enjoy the rest of your night, alright? I'll text you when I've made it back."

"Mouse..." Ronan groaned unhappily, "Just one more drink. For me?"

I shook my head and tugged my jacket further around my body as I stepped away from the trio, patting down my pockets to make sure that I did have everything I needed. 

"I'll come out again, soon." I promised them, but tried to aim my words at the frowning redhead as I continued to back away. "You can hold me to it."

Ronan worked his jaw before he nodded curtly, and I sighed to myself before spinning on my heel to hastily make my exit. 

Only, it didn't quite happen like that of course, because, of all the people, in all the world, I just had to bump right into none other than Matty.

[rookfeatherrambles]

Please do tell me about the cursed cat AU

Hehe alright!

Once I had a fic idea that the institute is sent a Cat eeeh circa s2 maybe? Ease the tension! Anyway, a cat carrier shows up at the Institute, covered in travel stickers from all over the world and inside, is a cat! Just a normal looking *if grumpy* kitty that's super stressed out :(

A letter is crudely taped to the top in an envelope with closed only with duct tape that's written for The Archivist, whomever that may be at this current time. It's obviously a statement but Elias is really displeased. Still, he summons Jon and asks him if he was expecting this.... Package? And Jon says no, so Elias pulls out his phone to call someone to 'dispose of the animal'.

But he's not even halfway through his sentence before Jon is opening the carrier and coaxing out the kitty with some of his lunch because he's huge on cats and the poor thing is in a tiny carrier and it's dirty and hungry and what monster could do this???? He coos over it but Elias, who's just read the statement, his eyes go wide and he snaps at Jon. "DO NOT TOUCH THAT CAT!"

Too late, it's in Jon's arms.

Elias groans. Of all the things that could happen, Jon getting cursed by a Harbinger Cat wasn't in his periphery of thought. At all!

He explains, as calmly as he can that the statement was written by someone who'd experienced a great many misfortunes after adopting a cat- "That Cat in particular." And that the bad luck only got worse and worse. The statement has two writers, the first, the man who adopted the cat and the second, his daughter who found the unfinished account and wanted to update everyone that her father was killed in a massive earthquake that collapsed his home with him inside.

She found and caught the cat, and is sending it on.

And Elias sighs and holds the bridge of his nose for strength before trying to get his perfect in so many ways but also OH MY GOD HE'S AN IDIOT Archivist's attention because he's FULLY ENGROSSED in petting the cat.

'Jon... You're going to meet the same fate now."

"Why? Because some superstitious people had a run of bad luck while owning a cat?"

"the cat is the CAUSE of the bad luck, Jon. It will worsen exponentially until it kills you. Unless we kill the cat first. Then your life will be spared."

Jon looks at him aghast. "Never. I won't let that happen, Elias, it's a cat! It's just a cat!!"

Elias throws his hands up but then gives up. Jon's not going to budge. "Fine, I hate to say this, but on your own head be it."

So Jon adopts the cat, and he's constantly stubbing his toes, spilling tea over his notes, his laptop crashes, so on so forth. Minor things that can be attributed to simple bad luck. His assistants try and help where they can but he's a hazard to himself and everyone around him now, but any time anyone says anything Jon just tells them he's having a bad day. week. A bad month, then and don't they all have those? He won't hear a word against the cat. "It's not her fault, I'm telling you, she's a sweetheart."

Then Jon goes out on a field mission for a few days and almost gets run over by a train and ends up in hospital with a broken leg.

I don't know much more than that yet but I think it turns out that the cat is a catalyst—yes, it gives people bad luck, but its presence also stops them from having worse, possibly fatal luck because the cat is a guardian of some sort.

I'll workshop it :3

[bonny-kookoo]

hii bonny 🤍

i‘m also very curious about what happened in crossroads can you maybe still post what is in your drafts 🥺

This is a random scene from my notes on my phone, set somewhere (I think? It's been a long time since I wrote those notes..) after his (failed) tattoo appointment. It was unfinished, so I cut off the last part of it that was a little scrambled and ended in an open sentence haha.

Only a warning for angst, being drunk and smoking. That's it.

It's not hard to realize that he's not the same person you used to go out with years ago- if not just by the way he visually changed, but also internally.

Still- if you had the ability to open up his chest and repair all the damage done to his back then soft heart, you'd do it in a beat of your very own with no questions asked. Then again, maybe you shouldn't- maybe you should just leave him alone just like you were told to years back. Did it do any good?

Did he grow up well? Are his piercings and tattoos his choice, or were they just a decision of rebellion against his parents after you left?

Had you already fucked him up too much to have someone save him?

"Hey- oh, you're cold." He notices the second his warm hand finds your rather cooled down, naked skin fleetingly, before he sits down next to you on the large rock in Taehyung's backyard. The music is still booming inside the house, and everyone's clearly conversing and having fun- so why is Jungkook out here with you of all people?

Especially after avoiding you like the plague?

"It's fine." You say, pulling your knees up to your chest, heels of your shoes scraping a bit before they find hold on an edge. He runs his fingers through your hair, his cheeks a bit reddened and nose shiny from the alcohol he still holds in his hand, before he sets down the beer bottle into the grass in front of him. "I get a headache from the loud music." You mumble, looking at a frog jumping into a bush. Taehyung fails to really maintain a proper garden- everything's wild and untamed back here, and you actually like the sight.

"I swear he keeps turning it louder every song." Jungkook chuckles, clearing his throat before he pulls out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes- offering you one that you take rather reluctantly. You're not sure when he started to smoke- but you won't question it either, just as much as he doesn't question if you still smoke or not, apparently. "I won't stay much longer. They're getting too wasted for my taste.." He mumbles to himself, before he lights his cigarette- holding out the lighter to you. "Taehyung keeps kissing people on the cheek."

"Well, you're pretty bad already too." You sigh, lighting your own for yourself before you give it back to him-

noticing the pink glued yarn on it, right before he snatches it back to put it into the small cardboard box he stuffs in the front pocket of his blue sweater.

Does he know that he still keeps something of you with himself?

Or did he forget that it was yours years back?

"Not really, no." Jungkook laughs, though he does rub his eyes a little, and it stings because his timing to your thoughts couldn't be anymore painful. "Really. Why do you think I'm drunk?" He accuses with a slightly playful hint in his tone that you don't feel fits the moment.

"Cause you're out here with me." You simply tell him, avoiding eye contact because he's been avoiding you the entire night until now.

"Hm, you have a point." He shrugs, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his fingers before he continues. "I can't handle you when my brain works, I guess." He laughs, and you just silently smoke next to him, watching the ash from it fly off with red sparks every time you flick it off. "I wanna ask you why you left." He says, lowly, seriously, and now you start to feel the cold too.

Or maybe it's just him.

"But I'm not drunk enough to do that." He chuckles, leaning back a little, moving his neck until it cracks- a habit he still has.

"Is that why you're here now?" You ask quietly, worried about his answer, somewhat- but at the same time, you're already scolding yourself for not letting it go. "So I tell you without you having to ask?" You continue nevertheless, brain too fogged up from the amount of alcohol to really sustain the ability to think thoughts quietly it seems like.

"No." He shakes his head, before he huffs out a long drag of smoke. "I just wanna.. pretend? Remember? Fuck." He laughs to himself, face in his hands for a good moment, cigarette burning on it's own tucked between to fingers.

It takes you a moment to realize he's probably crying. Or trying not to. You can't tell.

"Can't you at least say sorry?" He suddenly says, and once his hands are gone from his face, you can finally spot all the lights from the inside of the house behind you reflect in his glassy eyes like they're mirrored. His tears don't fall until he blinks-

then they're gone again, the lights and the tears, frustration replacing all of it, shaking you awake especially when you realize he's looking right at you.

"I can't." You tell him, bottom lip quivering as you keep it together the best you can. "I can... only say sorry for not being able to say sorry." You laugh, and he shakes his head.

"So you just.. left, fucked me over, and you don't regret that at all?" He argues so softly it hurts. It would feel a lot better if he yelled at you- because you can deal with anger, with resentment and all of that, you grew up with it, it's normal-

this isn't. You don't know what to do.

"Never said I didn't regret it." You deny, killing the burning cigarette bud by scratching it over the rock you're sitting on. "...I just can't say sorry for something I.. didn't do." You deny, and at that, he looks at you standing up, hugging yourself, before your heels sink into the soft ground, making you trip-

and him get up too quickly as he stumbles just as much, almost falling into the bushes with you if it wasn't for the flimsy fence your back hits instead, his hands on either side of you, face right next to yours.

"What did they do to you?" He asks, and you want to scream, yell, call police or whatever just to get out of it-

because you can handle him hating you. You're okay with him using you as the villain and reason he ended up mending his relationship with his parents. You can handle being the breaking point of the young Jungkook who finally woke up and realized that his parents and home had always been trying to help him. You can handle that.

But you can't handle tearing all of that apart. Not because he doesn't deserve the truth, but because you won't get a happily ever after anyways.

"They had something to do with it." He keeps going, only slowly giving you space again, and suddenly you want him close again, just so you don't have to look at him. "I know they did-"

"Jungkook-" You start, when you hear the door of the house opening, glass door swinging open, some people laughing as they walk out as well, shattering whatever moment just transpired between you both as you slip right underneath his arm. "I should get home now." You tell him with a tight-lipped somewhat smile, but his face is dangerous.

"Hoseok drives you home, right?" He asks, and you nod, unsure. "Cool." He says, completely catching you off guard as he walks past you. "I'll tell him you wanna go. I'll just go and say bye to Taehyung." He says, making you look after him confused, before you realize.

Hoseok mentioned he'd drop someone off on the way to your place.

And apparently you now know who that someone might be.

[mumms-the-word]

#17 for the writer's asks. Like you have a schedule for Nautera, and I can't fathom writing fast enough to strick to a schedule 😭, or being certain I wouldn't want to change some parts until the fic is almost done. So I'm interested to hear what your process is!

Oh man this question is so complicated for me haha here we go. Looong answer ahead so I've put most of it under the cut!

17. talk about your writing and editing process

okay so let me start off by saying...I don't have a consistent process haha

I do up to a point. So most of the time for fic, when I get an idea, I'll mull it around in my head a bit, and I might jot down a few lines or notes I don't want to forget in the Notes app (either on my phone or on my laptop), and then I'll set it aside for when I have time to write it. Then I write it, read over it the next day for edits, put it in tumblr for another round of edits, and post it when I feel like I'm happy with it.

But in reality? Oof. It really just depends. (also TLDR, writing is a process, and I love my fanfic community <3)

Sometimes the inspiration to write a whole oneshot or scene takes me and I'll write out a first draft right there in the Notes app (I tend to sacrifice work when I do this, which is bad and often why I end up with so much unfinished work with deadlines staring me dead in the face at the last minute. So I do not recommend this, but hyperfixation will hyperfixate...) I believe I wrote the entire first drafts for Choosing to Live and Ascension, Return in one day each.

Other times, I'll come back to it and play around with it for a bit. Sometimes the writing is easy! Chapter 4 for In Fathoms Below was super fun for me to write (especially the last half) because I had battle music playing and I was just so excited to get to the dragon turtle reveal. Chapter 5, which will be a much more intense action/adventure scene, was significantly harder and took much longer. I think I spent several days, probably a week fighting with that chapter, because I wanted it to be good, fast-paced, and tense...but also make sense. I'll probably still mess with it before it posts on Friday.

Sometimes, I can write a whole scene/chapter in a day. Other times it takes me several days. It really just depends. Sometimes music helps. Sometimes I just can't make one single paragraph work and it frustrates me for days (*coughcoughCHAPTER 5cough*). Sometimes I write myself into a corner and I don't know how to fix what I did, but I'm too stubborn to delete anything just yet or start over. Not every chapter/scene/oneshot is the same!

Once I have a full draft of the chapter/oneshot, however, then I start to edit it. This also changes up depending on the project. For a oneshot, I might read through it twice on my Notes app, adjusting things as I go. I try not to write a full oneshot and post it on the same day so I can sleep on it and come back to it with a fresh brain (mini fics like the Nightfall and alone, finally fics don't count, I'll post those after two read-throughs on the same day because they are asks).

Once I'm half-satisfied with it in Notes, then I'll stick it into tumblr on my laptop and use the Grammarly widget to help catch grammar mistakes. Reading it in a different font/arrangement/format also helps with finding mistakes or catching awkward sentences. Once I'm happy with it on tumblr, I'll queue it up to post, and then copy/paste everything into AO3 and post it there once it goes live on tumblr.

For a chapter of my longfics, however, I might read it several times. I'll go back and read the previous chapter and then the current one to make sure I've kept things consistent and that everything flows or transitions from one chapter to the next, for example. I'll read it once a day for a couple of days (maybe skipping a day if I'm frustrated with it) and see what each new day brings in terms of edits, fixes, and ideas. With the Masquerade longfic, because it's kind of just for me and a friend (though I'm excited that others are enjoying it too!), I'll post the chapter as soon as I'm relatively satisfied with it, maybe only spending 2-3 days on edits (not counting time spent writing a full draft).

For the Nautera/Atlantis fic, however, because I know there's a bit more hype from 2-3 more readers (and people have been SO lovely in their comments on AO3 as well!! <3), I put a smidge more effort into it. For one, I set up a schedule and wrote several chapters in advance, because last week and this week is PACKED with deadlines and work I ignored while doing other things (ahem, like writing the Atlantis fic). I wrote 4 chapters pretty much in the span of a week and then held off posting any of them until I had a good queue lined up. Then I queued them up over two weeks.

The benefit to this is that it gives me breathing room to write at my own pace while still ensuring I have content for my readers...which is different than the Masquerade fic, which I kind of write "as the inspiration strikes" and so I don't update it nearly as consistently (sorry friends). Trust me, if I posted chapters as soon as I had them ready, I would've posted 4 chapters back to back on the same day or on 4 days, and then we'd be waiting 2-3 weeks (or months) for the next chapter. I'd get bogged down by shame, I'd contemplate quietly quitting the project, it would be a whole thing. The queue helps me and my readers. I really need to implement it for the masquerade fic too.

(I still have a queue going, actually. I currently have Nautera's chapter 5 queued up to post on Friday and chapter 6 in a "midway" draft stage, and the start of chapter 7 in Notes. I don't normally write that far ahead! But the idea has me in a chokehold...and I'd rather write it than work, unfortunately.)

HOWEVER. The benefit and downside to having the chapters queued up and being excited for them is that I can still mess with them. So for the Nautera/Atlantis chapters, they might sit in my queue for a week, and every day I might go back in and make tiny adjustments. So for some things, I might only do a day of edits, maybe 2 days. For something like the Nautera/Atlantis fic, though? I have a bad habit of messing with each chapter several times lol sometimes this is fine and sometimes I feel like I'm messing with them too much, you know?

All that said, for some reason, fics don't trigger my perfectionism, even knowing I have actual readers reading and responding to them. You'd think they would, but they don't. Unlike my original book projects, which trigger my perfectionism so bad I haven't finished several of them because I want to keep messing with them, fics are consumed so quickly I feel less pressure about sharing them. I think there's a kind of freedom in knowing that once it's posted, it's out there, for better or for worse. You can fix minor edits, but you don't necessarily have to sweat the small stuff because it's just fanfic, it's posted for free, and if people don't want to read it, it's not personal. It's been really fun, actually, and I love the little community I've built making BG3 fics for people (and for myself).

I think, also, it's been healthy for me to hone my writing craft/skills away from fandom spaces first. I didn't get an AO3 until this year and I'm in my late 20s. I think if I had tried to write fanfic when I was a teen or even in my early 20s, I'd be too obsessed with the numbers. At this point in my life, I'm just happy to get a couple of comments, and happier still that my writing brings 4-5 people joy <3

It also helps to remember the wise words of one of my graduate instructors when it comes to certain projects: Done is better than good. This is a life-saver for essays and school projects, of course, but for fic, I know we want our content to be good. So I'll adjust it for fic here:

Done is better than perfect.

[miminmimikyu]

Every time with PPPPPP I keep thinking "am I reading too much into this" (-> probably -> who knows! -> no way to confirm now!). Today, I'm really impressed with how much the volume extras of volume 7 & 8 pack a punch despite them being really really simple. So I'm going to read (too much) into it again x_x

Volume 7 covers the end of the 4v4 piano battle, Chocho's death and its direct aftermath (ch 53 - 61).

After each chapter there's an extra page that's blank save for a stave with a single note like this, similar to the rings the sextuplets wear/wore:

(excuse the crappy phone quality, this twitter thread by @/ppppppupdates has the extras from all the volumes pulled from the digital versions which are much clearer. I've linked to a few of them here and there).

The first note is C (Do) and the note moves up the C major scale with each chapter. To me, this came off as "very ominous countdown". You reach the end of the chapter, turn a page and BAM, the note's crept up again. It took me out of it for a second while still building suspense and still maintaining the flow of the story. The last note is B (ti/shi). This happens after chapter 59, which is when Chocho dies. So the scale was counting down (ok, up) to Chocho's death, where the chapter ends on a "pi-----"/"beeeeep" sound effect.

I know the fact that the scale doesn't end on C probably has more to do with there only being 7 siblings + only 7 chapters preceding this moment, but I also like how the scale remains unfinished. Since the last note (B/ti) is the very unstable 7th degree in the scale my brain automatically wants the melody to resolve to C but it's cut short like Chocho's life is

(There are still two chapters in the volume after that but the extras are more like the previous volumes: Most of it is Sadame-centric, like the cover (little graphs depicting his ability, the acknowledgment page is a warped version of the electronics shop where Sadame and Meloli and the inside back cover is of Meloli and Sadame). Also, there's a conductor's baton for Furusu and the results of the popularity contest)

Volume 8 already immediately sucker punched me by having no one on this page. Then, in a break from the small drawings between chapters from previous volumes, each of those pages has a full-page portait of each sibling, starting with Reijiro, Mimin, Fanta (all smiling), then Sorachika, Don and Shikato and finally, after the final chapter-- a smiling Brilliant (?) Lucky dressed in the clothes he's wearing on the cover of volume 8.

The final extra pages are small items representing members of the Otogami family

Rejiro and Mimin

Fanta + the three pairs of polyhedron earrings might refer to Sorachika, on an Shitako?

Sorachika (scarf), Shikato (apple) and Don (score)

Gakuon, though I think it also could be referring to Brilliant Lucky as he's also associated with the necklace and his portrait has him wearing it while Gakuon/Sorachika(?)'s hand reaches for it

Lastly, there's a melancholic acknowledgments page (a room almost completely empty except for a piano) and the back inside cover (depicting the end of a measure, quite a definitive "the end" imo)

Interestingly, none of the extras depict or refer to Mediocre Lucky (unless the final portrait is what would have been Lucky's final form after, idk, he and Brilliant Lucky accept each other). Maybe this is fitting because his only appearances in volume 8 are 1) passed out in the cemetery in chapter 64 and 2) in that rigid, almost caricature-like form in chapter 70 where he's banished to the darkness by Brilliant Lucky.

All in all I think these extras make the volume end on an even sadder note than chapter 70 did on its own. A lot of them just remind me of stuff that we won't get to see: A happy Brilliant Lucky never appears in the actual story-- the story ends with Brilliant Lucky lashing out in anger and rejecting Mediocre Lucky. And if that final portait is (Mediocre) Lucky himself, then it's also a version of Lucky that we never got to see-- Lucky didn't get this good ending. Even the personal items on the extra pages are split between "siblings Lucky has saved" and "siblings Lucky has not saved" (& Fanta): Arcs that we got vs. arcs that we never will get.

[gretchensinister]

4, 28, 52, and 86?

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

It has to be the mostly-unformed ideas I have for a sequel to A Draught of Light, that would focus on fire and water (change and restoration) and start building towards...something. Some grand unified theory of magic in that universe. Maybe. This would go along with pushing the whole thing into original fiction. And now, yes, I am suffering from deep existential dread realizing how long it's been since I wrote A Draught of Light.

28. handwritten notes or typed notes?

Notes? We were supposed to be using notes? No, no, I do have notes, sometimes...

It depends on what's easiest to hand. If I'm typing the actual story, notes just go right at the end, with enough space separating them from the part I'm working on so I don't look at them all the time. I know I did handwritten notes for The Doors of Perception. Now that I'm an adult who can use my phone whenever I want, I take notes in the notes app sometimes, which is actually the least convenient thing when I actually need to look at them later, but helps me not lose lines that won't be needed till the end. There's a dialogue sequence in the last chapter of Incarnation that started in the notes app.

52. how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

I don't like switching between projects as much as I used to, so I would say, like, two that I consider being actively worked on. If this starts to include things that I want to write and have at least something written down, it goes up to maybe 6 or 7.

86. which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

This is an interesting question! The WIP I'm closest to finishing is set in the fall, but I don't know if it's a fall mood. The POV character is living a kind of life that makes them feel alienated from things like natural seasons. The artificial control of their environment is actually fairly significant, now that I think about it. This thought will be useful in editing, I think.

The WIP that is just barely a paragraph right now, that one I think is going to be like, late summer/early fall when, let's say, the days are warm enough to swim and the nights are cold enough to want to be cozy. Good times to make somewhat questionable decisions out of love (?), angst about them, and continue on even while definitely being old enough to know better.

Thank you for the questions!

[hours2hours]

THE HAWKINS PARADOX: CHAPTER ELEVEN

“See ya in class Miles,” I whisper on my way out the door. With a smile on my face I open the front door, slam it shut and-

Dented bumper, smashed windows, scratches scribbled across my old faithful truck.

“No,” I plead, peeking through the shattered passenger window. “Nonononono.” Anger overtakes my thoughts, tensing muscles and clenching the jaw like a vice. Without thinking I kick the bumper over and over, “FUCKING- BITCH-”

Miles walks outside in pajama pants, wiping sleep from his concerned eyes. “The laptop-”

“Yup, gone!” Pacing the vehicle, I throw an aching foot at it.

“The truck didn’t do it.”

“I don’t care. What kinda person does this?! What the hell did I do?” On the opposing side of the vehicle the scratches take on a pattern. They’re scribbled as if done in a hurry, but form words: HOURSTOHOURS. Ready to punch something again, I’m stopped by Miles approaching my side. “Be angry, I’d be too. Just please don’t hurt yourself.”

“Oh what do you care any-” Glancing over, Miles’s concerned expression tugs on my heart. I hit a few buttons on my phone and listen to the ring.

Annie starts, ”Hey dude, did you check the-”

“Nope. Ran into an issue.”

“Dude, how did you lose it already?”

“It was stolen. Not important anymore. I need you to ask Otto where Aaron was last night.”

“And you didn’t check it first thing?!”

“Annie!”

“Alright alright, one sec.”

There’s some muffled conversation on the other end. “Aaron’s been gone all night. Went hunting with his dad.”

“Then it has to be Wendy! I knew that sick fuck was the one-”

“Sorry man, wasn’t her either. Kept an old camera recording her house all night, just in case. Saw her go in, no one came out.”

I hang up immediately and take a seat on the pavement, head in hands. “I dunno how I could be so stupid, leaving it there like that.”

“The fact that someone knew exactly where and when to find it is telling. It has to be someone who knew, that narrows it down, doesn’t it?”

“I dunno man, I just need to think.” That’s as good an excuse as any. “I’ll see you in class.”

***

  Miles

Tick, tick, tick. I wound up in chemistry half an hour early to work on the comic, when the bell rings I have nothing to show for it. All I’ve done is stare into empty panels and scribble in the margins. That obnoxious clock stealing my attention reminds me of the last time I lost someone. When my mother passed I always imagined a little clock above my head, to my own death. Whenever I felt my time was being wasted, I heard the tick, distracting me further. A cruel feedback loop, a reminder of each pointless second lost. Now that Mateo is gone I’ve been noticing old habits returning from this time, including the imaginary clock. I know he’d want me to finish it, but now these unfinished panels only further cement the reality that he’s gone. 

Students enter one by one, filling the room with eyes. When it becomes too much I slam the book shut and shove it in my bag, resting a head in my hand until Joel takes a seat next to me. Chem is the only class we have together, a subject I’ve never cared for but still look forward to every day.

Joel’s hooded head falls between his arms and he turns away. I’m glad our teacher didn’t call him out in front of the class again. “Hey,” I whisper. Joel doesn’t acknowledge me. I consider poking him, or stepping on his foot, but I’m sure he just needs some space.

Still, I can’t resist a check up.

I scribble onto a post-it and slide it under his arm, “Holding up?” When he rises to check the note, he reveals his face for a moment. Eyes hang down in distress cast in deep shadows. A bruise maybe? Joel keeps it hidden, even while raising to write a reply.

“Talk about it later maybe”

Well that’s an awful sign if I’ve ever seen one. I feel useless to help him, I don’t even know how to try. Maybe he needs some time in the forest finally. 

I slide over one more note, “sry about your truck, hang in there :)”

Joel remains still for the rest of class, aside from periodically checking his phone. A subtle shaking grabs my attention, only his fingers jitter as he types away. I guess that’s another thing the two of us have in common. Joel holds his hand down to stop himself but it seems uncomfortable. With a light groan he reaches for an orange pill bottle inside his backpack. He carefully pops it open, pauses, then mutters under his breath, “Fuck off.” He looks left, right, then stuffs the bottle back inside. He looks at me and I shoot an eyebrow, then tears a sticky note from my pile and scribbles, “COCAINE IN MY BAG.”

“Why???” I write back.

“I know what i said last night but im seriously gonna kill this mother fucker”

Our killer put it there, they had to have. Joel’s backpack was in his car when it was busted open.

Joel breathes shakily while sliding another note. “WHAT DO I DO??”   

“Stay calm, get rid of it after class” I start when a mortifying shadow appears over my shoulder. “If you two have to pass notes during class, I’m sure there’s nothing you’d need to keep from everyone else.” My legs freeze up, eyeing Joel with desperation, begging with my eyes to get me out of this. He stays as rigid as I. “Go on now,” he nudges. I take the notes from my desk and slowly walk to the front, wobbling on every step. Oh god, they’re going to think I’m drunk too. It feels like my knees might give out completely as kids snicker and whisper. I turn to face the crowd, and feel my stomach sink at the sight.

This is a nightmare.

I hold out the notes in front of me, the ones that clearly state Joel carries cocaine, and my instructions for getting rid of it. Just say an excuse, anything will do. Literally any single thing we could be talking about through notes in class.

“Uh- m-meet me at my place after class,” I stammer. Aaron “Ooohs” from the sidelines. “Enough,” The teacher spits.

“...and I said, okay, see you then.” I lower the notes while sweat drips down my forehead.

He only stares and thumps his foot. 

Aaron chimes in again, “Soo what about the rest?”

“Let me see those.” The teacher starts my way, and at this point it’s do or die. Let him see these notes and have Joel miss graduation, or face humiliation. My choice is clear, I shred the notes as many times as I can.

“Miles!” He exclaims. “Over here, now.” He guides me to his desk in the back. “We’re going to have a talk after class, I think Joel can join us.”

“Yessir,” Is what I manage to force through my mouth. Turning back I find my seat again, trying not to burst into tears in front of all these eyes.

Class continues as normal afterwards, though the occasional staring and/or giggling doesn’t stop. Joel hands over the next note behind his back, “you really saved my ass. But you don't gotta do that for me, just fess up next time.”

“Not a chance,” my note replies. His returned smile brings some semblance of comfort.

A short, thick man enters the room, says, “Hawkins!” There’s no holding back the disdain in his voice, clearly this isn’t his first meeting with the security guard. “Hallway, now.”

“It's Joel for fuck sake. “

“Language!” Teacher exclaims. “I think you’d better take Miles with you this time,” the teacher scowls.  

The guard waves me forward.

Something has to turn our way fast. I’ve already taken the phone from my pocket to frantically type, “ND DSTRCTN CHEM NOW!!”

“Bring your bags, both of you,” the guard orders, continuing once out of class. “Throwing your future away is your own choice kid, but bringing another into it?” He shakes a head and clicks his tongue.

“I dunno what this is all about,” Joel starts. “But I think we’re missing an important lesson right now.”

“Great, then I’m sure you’d like this to be over just as soon as I. The bag.”

“Ya got a warrant?” Joel says. 

The guard sighs and scratches his neckbeard. “No, but if you want to involve the police it’d be my pleasure.” His smile grows wide with the stink of garlic masked faintly by mint gum.

Joel crosses his arms. “You think I never heard bluff before?”

Shoes squeak against waxy floors. Joel continues to stall while holding tightly onto his bag. Annie zips around the corner at the far end of the hall, skidding to a stop once she sees us. “HELP” I mouth at her. Otto appears behind and stops at her side, whispering in Annie’s ear. He tugs at her shirt but she slaps his hand away.

“Just hand it over if you have nothing to hide.” The guard continues. 

Joel smirks. “Why? Losin’ so much time you could spend creeping on teenage girls?”

The guard’s eyes flare with rage, and cheeks turn light pink. Then a crash. The guard looks away where Annie had knocked over a garbage can, sprawling garbage all over the place.

“Hey!” He calls to her. “What are you doing?” 

Annie stares back dumbfounded, “Uhhh.” 

“Pick that up will you?” He turns back around and sticks out a hand. “The bag, Hawkins.” 

Suddenly, Wendy Anson of all people turns the corner with a smirk. She says something to Annie, who’s lip twitches in response. Annie seems to panic, eyes searching for some distraction to save us, until she just shrugs and punches Wendy in the face. “Annie!” Otto exclaims. “Why would you do that?”

Caught off guard, Wendy trips backward over the slippery remains of half-eaten breakfasts, growling, “What’s your problem?!” Joel and I can hardly contain our laughter. Wendy throws a fist back at her, but misses after slipping on more garbage. 

“Seriously…?” The guard mumbles before taking off. “You two! Cut it out.”

Joel scrambles for the drugs while I try and block line-of-sight. He looks all around before tossing it atop of a row of lockers, then adds a plastic bag containing two joints.

“Detention, the both of you.”

“But she’s the one who-” Wendy protests.

“Don’t care. It takes two to fight.”

Joel thumbs-up to Annie, she shoots one back. “I’m very sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll see you in detention to really think over my terrible mistake.” She and Otto walk off, where a lecture is sure to follow.

When the guard comes back, Joel confidently hands him the bag. He rummages through the biggest pocket, turning up nothing but crumpled up balls of paper, a pair of scissors, and pretzels.

“Clean this time. Your turn Ramos.” He searches my bag and discovers nothing but a few novels, a pair of headphones, a spare binder, and Mateo’s sketchbook. “Well, nothing on you, but that doesn’t mean you’re in the clear yet. I know you’ve been dodging meeting with the counselor, so you’ll be meeting soon, and you’re going to show unless you want us to have a long talk with your parents.”

“Like that’ll help,” Joel mumbles.

“It’s no joking matter. You won’t need much to graduate, so just get it done.”

“‘Cause god forbid anyone has to deal with me another year.”

“That’s not-”

“I get the picture. Now can we get outta here?”

Once class finally ends, Joel shoots straight out the door. He grabs the drugs and nonchalantly shoves them in his jean pocket. “Shall we?” He gestures toward the door outside, where we both walk out into the sun. Joel looks at me with squinting eyes and starts to giggle. In seconds we both burst into hysterics.

“I can’t believe Annie actually fuckin’ punched her,” he cackles.

“I’d almost feel bad,” I laugh. “If it were anyone else.” I shrug and plop down on the grass. Annie pushes through the front entrance a minute later.

“Thank you Annie,” I say. “You saved our lives.”

“Today I was given a blessed opportunity to punch Wendy Anson in the face. I believe I should be thanking you. Now, what the hell just happened?”

[trans-yllz]

3, 17, 26, 30!!

3. how you feel about your current WIP

positively I would say!! I love to write about wei wuxian as we can tell from the 28.6k words and counting, but I do often find myself wanting to Also write from jiang chengs pov whenever he's in a scene lmao so that's been a struggle. I've also become writers blocked w this fic even tho the end is so close and I have so many more fun scenes I want to write/have started writing... I think I took a break and then just sort of lost wei wuxians voice and need to rewatch at least a teeny bit before I get back to writing in earnest, but it's summer, which means summer camp, which means all I do is go to work, sleep, and work on those damn tarot cards 😭

17. talk about your writing and editing process

oh god it's truly the least efficient and personally helpful one possible. I don't make outlines. I'm trying to make a "graphic novel" right now and am Struggling to make a real actual helpful outline. my """outline""" for my current fic is a list of a series of events I Maybe want to happen in a loose order I'm not particularly attached to. I just start writing sentences I think are good in the notes app of my phone, and then once there are enough of them, I put them in order in a google doc and try to string them together coherently. I don't finish fics before I post the first chapter which is obvious by the nearly half a year gap between now (chapter three of my current fic still unfinished) and when I posted chapter two. I Do edit while I write which I know is the devil talking but I can't help it. when I'm writing a chapter, every time I come back to it no matter how short the break was (hours, days, weeks), I read through everything thats written so far and edit it, then once everything is Done I go back and edit it again, and then I do that another time, and then by then I'm so sick of it I don't want to look at it anymore so I post it

26. are you able to write with other people around?

I am and often do!! I go to local coffee shops a lot to write/do art because when I go to a location for a specific purpose it forces me to actually do the thing, but I have to have headphones in and music on or else I get distracted, but I can't listen to music with english lyrics when I write so I have a special playlist for it 😭😭😭

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of

I already answered this one w a different fic hehe but you know what, everyone also go read no charming smile to violet eyes, my 28.6k words and counting love letter to wei wuxian