#I’ve seen it multiple times in elementary school as a school trip

[jalapeno-princess]

Chapter 3: Home Is Where The Heart Is

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part 3 of the “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” Series

Word Count: 10K

Genre: Angsty Angst (This chapter is actually the saddest one of the five chapters but don’t worry, it gets better soon)

Summary: Distance makes the heart grow fonder—or does it?

A/N: Hey guys! So this part sounded better in my head(it’s kind of all over the place) but so is my life hahahaha please enjoy! (Italics are past tense but I bet y’all already knew that)

“I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later—“ 

The frustrated groan that fell from your lips was expected. This was the sixth time you tried to get in contact with your boyfriend tonight but all your attempts went straight to voicemail. You knew being in a long distance relationship was going to be difficult; not having Mark around anymore was driving you to the brink of insanity more and more each day. 

It didn’t help that there was a seven hour time difference between the two of you. When he would be waking up, you were in the middle of class and if you were about to go to sleep, he was getting ready to go to soccer practice. As much as you tried to make sure that Mark heading off to college wasn’t going to affect your relationship in any way, there was only so much you could do to stop yourself from worrying about what the future really held for the two of you. 

From the beginning of your relationship up until now, you and Mark experience distance on multiple occasions. However, the twenty-minute distance between your elementary school and his middle school was nothing compared to being stuck in California while he went off to study at New York University. 

You remembered the day he found out he was accepted like it was yesterday. Not only was Mark extremely talented in almost every single sport any college had to offer, but the grades he maintained all throughout his high school career was unbelievable. It was only natural for all these colleges to reach out to him; offering many different kinds of scholarships and even full rides to some of the universities Mark could only dream of being able to attend. 

When you were younger, the older boy would always fantasize about traveling to New York. He would watch all kinds of shows, documentaries and anything kind of tour program that the travel channel had to offer. At the time, you thought it was extremely adorable. Any time Mark seemed very passionate about something never failed to pull on your heartstrings. But when the many acceptance letters began coming in the mail, you wanted nothing more than to rip them all up. 

You’d be lying if you said the breathtaking grin on his face each time he opened up one of the letters didn’t make you happy yourself. You were extremely proud of Mark for being able to excel in almost every single thing that he put his heart in to. To this day, it boggled your mind at the idea of how perfect he genuinely was. There was not one letter of rejection and it wasn’t shocking to you. Mark was the kind of student athlete every school wish they could have. 

He had acceptance letters from almost every university in California and you tried to indirectly hint towards wanting him to choose from one of them. At the same time, you forced yourself to accept whatever it was that he wanted. After all, it was his life—his future. You were being selfish for wanting to get in the way of that. Unfortunately, everything you’ve been worried about since you’ve realized Mark was going away for college at the beginning of your sophomore seemed to come true. 

Fights began to occur whether you liked it or not. Deep down, you knew it was harder for him because he was thousands of miles away from his friends, his family and his favorite person—but that was his choice. His schedule and your schedule tended to collide. You were both extremely busy at the same time and it was evident that making time for one another was harder than you both thought it would be. 

He called you every single day for the first month that he got settled in and he never failed to mention just how much he hated it. The campus was huge; your parents allowed you to go up with him and his family to explore New York City together while helping him set up his dorm. It was honestly one of the best experiences in your entire life. Just like Mark, you’ve always dreamt about traveling the world and the longer you two were dating, all you ever really wanted to do was experience going on trips all around the world with him. 

For the most part of the trip, the Tuan family had an itinerary of what they wanted to do while in New York but they did give you and Mark some free time to do whatever it was that your hearts desired. You found yourself at Central Park having a cute little picnic that he planned out prior to landing in New York and he also took you to the skating rink in the middle of Times Square. Watching him fall on his ass multiple times made you come to the realization that maybe Mark wasn’t perfect at everything—but that didn’t matter. He was still flawless in your eyes; and it was one less activity for you to get jealous over. 

The days seemed to fly by to both his and your dismay and soon, you and his family were just hours away from heading back to California. You deemed yourself old enough to say that leaving Mark had to be the hardest thing you have ever done so far in your entire life. You’ve never seen him cry so much before and you didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Sure, the idea of not having his family around really upset him; but the fact that he was no longer going to be able to see that breathtakingly beautiful smile of yours—nor would he get to hear your contagious in person really broke his heart. If it were up to him, he would’ve held you captive and prevented you from going on that six-hour plane ride home. His grip on your hand as you all drove over to the airport was tight while his face was hidden in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—I made a mistake didn’t I?” 

You gently pulled him away from your nape in order to look at him and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt a pain in your chest like you did when you saw his eyes so swollen and red from all the tears he cried. Out of force of habit, you cupped both his cheeks and tried to give him the best fake smile you ever put on before. 

“No, you didn’t make any mistake babe. If anything, this decision had to be one of the best ones you’ve made so far. Four years will be over before you know it. Trust me, you’ll be over the moon when you finally become a successful engineer and you’ll learn that it was all worth it.”

“Will it be worth it though? Leaving you—no longer physically being with you. Not being able to kiss these pretty lips of yours, not being able to hold you as much as I want to, not getting to hold these dainty little fingers of yours that seem to fit mind so effortlessly; like they were made for me. God y/n, I’m going to miss you so fucking much. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t live without you.” 

The tears were practically burning at your eyelids. Then don’t. You wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind and those two little words were on the tip of your tongue—but it was too late. He was already registered; he had a jersey for all three sports teams he was going to be a part of. His dorm was filled with all his items—this was going to be his home for the next four years and you just had to accept it for what it was. 

“This is your future Mark—“

“You’re my future baby. All I want—all I could ever need, for the rest of my life is you y/n. I’ve known it since I was seven years old and I’ll know it when we’re eighty. Promise me, we’ll be okay. Please. I know it’ll be hard; missing you is probably the only thing really fucking me over right now. I can’t promise you that things are going to stay the same between us as much as I would hope it could, but don’t give up on me. Okay? I love you y/n, more than I could ever fathom in to words. We’re going to be okay.” 

His words from that night came back like a slap to the face. It was like they were taunting you. The two of you were definitely not okay. Although his college experience was off to a rough start, things seemed to fall in to place for your boyfriend during the second month. When football season began, he had something to do to take his mind off of how much his heart was longing to be with you. 

You felt at ease knowing that he was finally getting used to being so far away and that he was actually enjoying his college escapades. He informed you on all the new friends he was making, how practices were longer and more grueling, how the campus food was nothing compared to his mom’s cooking and how people in New York would walk like they were on steroids. 

If only you could say you were having as much of a fun time with school as he was. Junior year wasn’t all that you thought it would be—but you also blamed yourself for your disinterest in anything that didn’t regard your boyfriend. Your life revolved around Mark and it was something you never wanted to admit out loud in fear of sounding pathetic. What person in their right minds would spend the only free time they had sitting around with their phone in their hand, waiting for a call from their boyfriend? Only you apparently. 

Your family were quick to pick up on how you were no longer yourself; everyone and their mothers were well aware of how much Mark meant to you and equally aware of how much you meant to him. The two of you were magnets; where you would go, he would follow. Nobody could separate the two of you even if they tried. 

There was a gravitational pull between you and your boyfriend and everyone knew that his absence had to be the reason you were always so out of it. You might have been there physically; whether you were at school, hanging out with your friends or just sitting at dinner with your family—but mentally, you were with Mark. 

Your mom was actually the one who talked you in to either getting a job or joining a club. Seeing as how you weren’t someone who liked to interact with anybody you didn’t really know on a personal level, you decided to go with the former and found yourself applying to many different jobs. Unlike a lot of your classmates who chose to work at coffee shops or at the state library, you accepted the job at a grocery store ten minutes away from your house. 

It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you could use some extra money. The first day of work was pretty simple; it was more of an orientation to get you prepared for your next shift. Your manager went over what was expected of you as a cashier, how you were supposed to wear your uniform, where you could find items if customers were to come up and ask you for assistance and other necessary information about your responsibilities. 

Right as you were packing up your things and preparing to head home for the day, it was then you walked in to the break room and noticed someone sitting on one of the couches. That someone just so happened to be one of the biggest pains in your ass. 

“Jaebeom, what the hell are you doing here?” 

When you first were introduced to him a little over five months ago, you didn’t think he was going to get under your skin like he has been for the last few weeks. In the first week of his arrival from Korea, your teacher gave you the responsibility of showing him around the school. Not only did you not feel as if you were personable enough to be the one to actually give a campus tour, you cringed at the idea of having to be alone with him. 

At first, he attempted at small talk with you; he wanted to know what your favorite food was, how your high school experience was so far, if you were in any extracurricular activities and the kind of music you listened to. You decided to not give him the time of day and tried to limit any interactions with him specifically because you didn’t think Mark would be too fond at the idea of you befriending another guy. Especially one he wasn’t all that familiar with. 

You also felt that there was a chance Jaebeom took a liking to you. Although you never really thought too highly of yourself nor did you want to assume that he had developed feelings for you, he always seemed so eager in wanting to talk to you. In fact, you had yet to see him try and pester anyone else the way he would with you. It was if he was picking on you purposely. 

A part of you felt as if you were being extremely rude towards him; he was nothing but friendly and patient towards you and you were nothing but hostile with him. His kind personality only lasted for so long. When he realized that you had no intention on being friends with him, his considerate nature took a 360 degree turn. 

Out of nowhere, his flirtatious compliments soon turned in to insults. He also started picking on you; throwing paper airplanes in your direction to get your attention, always selecting the good supplies before giving you a chance to and even hiding your things while you were away from the table. You knew you were at fault for his behavior; your hostility towards him when he was nothing but nice to you was unfair on your part. But you knew guys like Jaebeom—you had a feeling he was like most of the guys at your school. As much as you enjoyed hanging out with Mark’s friends, they obviously only chased after girls for sex. 

Your boyfriend was the only one with genuine interest in relationships and being in love. Jaebeom didn’t seem at all different; it’s as if his aura screamed trouble and the last thing you needed was someone to meddle with your relationship in any way. The older boy looked up at you incredulously; he was wearing the uniform you were just given and he was sitting in the break room—obviously that meant he was an employee and you were well aware of that. 

It was just that you had a hard time processing; or accepting rather the fact that you were going to be working alongside someone you considered an enemy. Out of all the places—why did he have to work at the same grocery store that you just got hired at? He already gave you so much stress at school, you could only imagine it was going to be worse now that he was your coworker. You found out in that same week that he was a stock member, so you wouldn’t have to deal with him at all which you were glad to say the least. 

The less time you had to spend around him, the better. To your dismay, your contact with Mark went from a couple times a day to only once or twice a week if you were lucky. That wasn’t the worst part; the distance seemed to be getting in the way of everything. For the last three years in high school, you were good with keeping up your grades. You were also very good whenever it came to participation and answering any questions your teachers would ask you. 

You didn’t realize just how unhappy and dejected you were until you and your parents were called in to the office by your counselor to talk about your grades. Not only were you failing two classes, you were one letter grade away from being on probation. Your parents wanted to be understanding; although you never involved anyone in to your relationship, they were well aware that your behavior was the subject of Mark’s absence and his failing to call and text you. You began to feel like he no longer loved you the way that he used to—the way you still did with him. 

If he did, wouldn’t he use every minute of his free time, no matter how exhausted he was to talk with you? There were countless nights you’d stay up past midnight because it was the only time he’d be able to contact you. Here you were bending over backwards in order to even get a glimpse of him and yet—he couldn’t; or didn’t even think about doing the same for you and it sucked. It sucked because all your biggest nightmares were coming to life right before your eyes and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t help but cry every time you thought about how he practically begged you to never give up on your relationship, no matter how hard it was. 

Where was the boy who claimed to love you more than life itself? The same boy who would call you up at 2 in the morning just to cry over how much he missed going to sleep with you in his arms? Where was the boy who was willing to give up his entire college career if it meant being able to see you every day and who was this stranger who couldn’t care less about how you’ve been doing? 

A part of you felt as if you wanted to confront Mark and tell him about how you felt, but you never got around to it because if he ever did get in contact with you, it was to complain about what he was suffering through or how his life was going. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there for him; you were so grateful that Mark trusted you with all of his worries and problems, but you missed being able to do the same with him. You didn’t want to accept it, but your boyfriend no longer cared about you and it was a hard pill to swallow. 

As irresponsible as it was for you to cry while at work, there was one day in particular that you just had enough. You stayed up the entire night before, contemplating your relationship with Mark and wondering if it was even worth fighting for anymore. Keeping up a long distance relationship was a team effort and you knew you were the only one putting in your heart and soul to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart. 

Your manager had a feeling something was off with you that day as soon as she saw you walk in with your shoulders slumped and tear stains on your cheek. When you were ringing up customers, you had zero energy and you weren’t even trying to put on a fake smile—you just did not want to be there at all. Most of your friends felt like giving you your space even if they were extremely concerned with your well being. But they didn’t feel like there was anything they could do. 

Your sister moved out of the house to live with her boyfriend a couple of months ago and both of your brothers were away at college. It was just you and your parents and even then, they would both work up until late. You felt so alone—and it wasn’t like you had Mark to run to. Everything in your life was falling apart and you were so unhappy. You loved Mark, more than you wanted to; and more than he deserved as of right now. 

There was nothing more you wanted than to fly up to New York and knock some sense in to him—you also wanted to kiss him for as long as time permitted you to. Only one hour in to your shift, your manager pulled you to the side and asked you if everything was okay. 

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You were definitely not okay; nothing was okay. By the weary expression on your face, she knew something was wrong and instead of trying to force it out of you, she allowed you a fifteen-minute break just to take a little breather. 

Sure, you have been working there for quite a while; but you didn’t want to take advantage of your manager’s kindness. She already had done so much for you; whether it was switching around your schedule so you could study for your midterms or finding someone to cover your shift if you called in sick so you didn’t have to, you knew she was an employer who genuinely cared about her employees and it was something you would be forever grateful for. 

Once she told you to head to the back, you found yourself releasing the quietest whimper before you broke down in tears. You didn’t care whether or not someone were to walk in on you crying, everything was just too much for you to handle. Your chest felt tight and your throat grew sore with every sob. Why was all of this happening to you? 

Just months ago, you were living out your best life. You had your entire family to come home to every day, your grades were almost perfect, you had both your friends and Mark’s friends to make you laugh and take your mind off of how difficult school could be but most importantly, you had Mark. You were so busy wallowing in self-pity that you failed to notice that you were no longer the only person in the break room. 

You felt Jaebeom before you saw him. He glided his hand gently along your back as a way to get you to slow down your heaving. When he noticed that you leaned back in to his comforting touch, he took that as a sign to hold you even closer—and he did. Jaebeom had brought you on to his lap and began to run his fingers through your hair while rocking you back and forth. 

Although he knew he was getting in to dangerous territory; there was no way he could just let you cry by yourself. There was a chance you would be mad at him for taking advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t care. He’d accept whatever you were to throw at him once you realized what he did to help console you. 

What you weren’t aware of, was that he did in fact have a crush on you. It may have been a suspicion on your part, but it was true—and he made it painfully obvious that he liked you. On his first day when your science teacher had him sit with you, he was captivated by your beauty. Sure, Jaebeom has seen many pretty girls in his lifetime, but something about you stood out to him and he could explain what it was because he didn’t know himself. 

However, when your teacher had you bring him around the school—take him to his classes, show him where all the important buildings and offices were; he learned that you were a no nonsense kind of person. You were also very bold and blunt; something he wasn’t used to in a girl. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. Unlike other girls, you hardly ever batted an eye to him nor did you appear to desire his attention. It wasn’t something he was used to; Jaebeom was always well-known and well-liked by his peers. 

In the few months he’s been at your school for, he grew to be a crowd favorite. Everyone in your junior class either wanted to be him, be friends with him or date him. You however, wanted nothing to do with him and something about that made him all the more interested in you. He didn’t know why, but seeing you cry made his chest feel heavy. He had no idea why you were so upset, but he wanted to beat up whoever it was that made you cry. 

Even if it wasn’t towards him, he’d observe the way you were such a bright and bubbly person whether it was with customers, your fellow classmates or your teachers. It was a bit of a stretch to desire a friendship with you, but he at least wanted to be civil. Jaebeom wasn’t going to lie, he got a kick out of teasing you and doing things he knew would get a rise out of you, but it was his only way of really getting to interact with you and he was going to take whatever he could get. When he realized you were no longer crying, he decided it would be best to get you off of his lap. You shocked both yourself and Jaebeom when you stopped his movements and cuddled in to his chest even closer. 

“Wait—just a couple more minutes. Please?” 

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment; whether it was because you were lonely and felt as if you had no one, or because this was the first time in a long time that someone held you in such a comforting way, but you didn’t want him to let go. You couldn’t help feeling as if it was wrong; being held by another guy who wasn’t your boyfriend—you knew Mark wouldn’t be all too happy if he were to find out that you were the one who wanted to continue being held by Jaebeom, but you weren’t able to find it in yourself to care. 

The two of you stayed like that until Jaebeom told you he had to clock in, but once the two of you got up from off the ground, he pulled you against his chest and held you ever so gently. This was the first time you ever felt anything other than disgust for him and it actually felt pretty nice. He could’ve have just left you there; he could’ve allowed you to cry all by yourself and honestly he should have with the crude way you’ve been treating him, but he didn’t. You were evidently hurting and Jaebeom came to your rescue. 

From that day on, your friendship with the kind-heartened boy blossomed immensely. Instead of hiding in one of your classes or in the back of your school library for lunch, you were now meeting Jaebeom in the courtyard. It took you a while to come to accept it, but being around Jaebeom felt like a breath of fresh air. Although his presence didn’t completely take your mind off of your failing relationship and what was barely left of it, he did make you laugh with some of the corniest jokes and he also brought you some of his mom’s homemade strawberry milk. 

The longer you were friends with him, the more you learned that he was the complete opposite of what you thought he was. First, he was the biggest momma’s boy. Well—other than Mark, but being an only child, Jaebeom was always clingy and overprotective when it came to his mom. He wasn’t embarrassed to answer her calls if he were around you and one day, he brought you over to her café in order to let you try a few of her other concoctions. He was also a huge cat lover. 

He was the proud father to five different cats he all adopted from the humane society. The fact that surprised you the most though; was that he was a b-boy dancer. He didn’t give off the vibes of being passionate for dance, but at the same time you didn’t think he was capable of taking care of anyone but himself—let alone five cats. You didn’t want to believe that there was anyone else for you other than your boyfriend—nor did you think you harbored any romantic feelings for Jaebeom; but at the same time, your chest would feel empty every time he would drop you home. 

You wanted to believe that the love you had for Mark was enough to fight off the feelings you assumed were growing for the boy in question. It wasn’t until he called you outside of your house on a Saturday with a bouquet of roses in his right hand and a teddy bear in his left. You would never be able to forget how shy and flustered he looked; you never thought you’d see the day Im Jaebeom’s cheeks would be flushed with pink—it was even harder to process that you were the reason. 

“Hey—I uh—would you maybe want to—I was wondering if you and I could—Junior prom?” 

Shit. You were too focused on everything else going on in your life that you failed to remember than prom was in less than a month. Honestly; you didn’t really care about going. Mark never asked you about it and when you tried to bring it up to him one night, he told you he would be busy on that day so you ultimately decided you wouldn’t go. 

There really wasn’t any point in going anyway; you were hardly close with anyone in your year and you didn’t want to waste hundreds of dollars on a night where you’d be alone and miserable. Plus, you already got to experience both Junior and Senior prom with Mark. Both nights were too amazing to even describe. Mark never failed to compliment how beautiful he thought you looked; in fact, most of the night was spent with him staring at you in awe of your beauty. There was no way you would be able to go to prom without tearing up over how much has changed in less than a year. 

A year ago, Mark rented out a hotel room for the two of you to return back to once prom was finished and you knew exactly what his plans were for the rest of the night once he pressed you up against the elevator mirror and kissed you with all the energy he could muster. Even if you weren’t really in the mood to go, you didn’t have it in you to tell Jaebeom no. 

Knowing the kind of guy he was, you were sure it took a lot for him to build enough courage to ask you such a nerve-wrecking question. The two of you may have been friends; but that didn’t necessarily mean you would want to go with him. As soon as he saw the small smile that he was falling for faster than he’d like to admit rise upon your face while you nodded your head in agreement, he returned back an even bigger and toothier grin. He was quick to hand you the gifts and pulled you in to his warm embrace before your mind could really process what was happening. 

“I like you a lot y/n. Would you be my girlfriend?” 

Hearing those words made your head spin. At this point, you were confident that Jaebeom liked you. He was so sophisticated and chic around anyone else but to you, he would conform in to the smallest little baby. He was so soft for you and followed you around like a lost puppy. You’d be stupid if you didn’t think there was even the smallest chance that he liked you. 

Seeing him with such hopefulness in his eyes broke your heart; your relationship may not have been what it used to be, but there was no way you would ever cheat on Mark—nor did you want to give up on him just yet. You were waiting—what for, you had no idea. But there was a tiny voice in your head begging you not to give up on him just yet. You wanted to believe that one day soon, he would realize exactly what he was doing to you. He would realize how he was breaking your heart and if he didn’t hurry up and get his shit together, he would lose you completely. 

“Jaebeom, I’m so sorry—I can’t—I—I have a boyfriend.” 

When you watched his face practically drop at your confession, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Why didn’t you say something earlier? How could you lead him on like this? He was nothing but caring and thoughtfull; everything Jaebeom did was to make you happy. Something that only your boyfriend should be worrying about. 

You didn’t feel like you needed to tell him everything about yourself nor did you feel as though that information was all that important. Yet—you couldn’t help but feel as though there was another reason as to why you didn’t tell him. You didn’t think it was because you didn’t want him knowing you were in a relationship just in case he did have feelings for you. 

So what was the real reason? His frown was quick to disappear and you felt as if you’ve known the older boy long enough to distinguish his real smiles from the fake ones. The smile he was currently giving you did not reach his eyes. You wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug—but you would only be giving him more confusing signals.

“Jaebeom—“

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it okay? I should have expected it. There was no way someone so beautiful with such a charismatic and gracious personality was single. Please know that I won’t let my feelings for you get in the way of our friendship okay? Your boyfriend is a very lucky guy; I hope he knows that. I’ll see you on Monday, have a nice day.” 

That was the first time you ever cried over someone who wasn’t Mark. Your heart hurt from Jaebeom. It was evident that he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy; nor did he seem to be the kind of person who would buy flowers for someone but he did so—for you. Jaebeom was changing his ways in order to impress you—to be the lucky guy who got to be the one who called you his. But that position has been taken for over ten years now and there was a battle going on between your mind and your heart on whether you wanted to continue your relationship or if you wanted to take a break from it. 

That following Monday; you could tell Jaebeom was trying his best to show that the rejection wasn’t affecting him in anyway, but he was only human. You were the first girl ever that he fell head over heels for; so it was a lot for him not only to face rejection, but to hear the reason as to why. He wasn’t as talkative nor did he really show interest in anything at all. You even tried to come up with all kinds of conversations about topics you knew he was heavily interested in, but all your efforts failed. 

You broke Im Jaebeom. 

Thankfully, things didn’t stay awkward between the two of you for too long. If the only way he could have you in his life was as a friend, he was going to take it. Prom night finally arrived and you knew you should have been excited, but you couldn’t wait to get it over with. You didn’t even tell Mark that you decided to go—you didn’t think he would care anyway. It was disheartening for you to come to the realization that your relationship was causing you more anguish and pain than it was excitement and adoration. 

When did Mark grow tired of having to put effort in to your relationship? When did he realize that you were the last thing he should be worrying about? When did he stop loving you? As much as you didn’t want to think or even believe that your boyfriend fell out of love with you, there was no other explanation as to why he’s been acting the way he has towards you. Sometimes, you felt that the only reason why Mark continued to stay in the relationship was because it was convenient for him. Your relationship continued for a span of a decade. 

You were all he has known for the last ten years. You’ve seen it all; the good, the bad and the ugly. The idea of starting over with someone else, having to get used to someone else must’ve been troublesome. While you got ready for your prom, you were quick to pick up on your mom’s unusual behavior. 

She was constantly texting someone on her phone and she motioned for your dad to walk over to where she was so she could show him what was making her so animated. You wanted to think it was because she was just excited that you agreed to go to prom, but something in your gut told you there was more to her exuberant exterior. You were just getting the finishing touches of your makeup done when the doorbell rang and your mom wasted no time making her way downstairs. 

“Y/n! Jaebeom is here, and he’s looking especially handsome today!” 

Your parents were aware of your friendship with the older boy and they seemed to approve of him. They were fond of the idea that he took care of you in the way Mark always did when he was still in California. You decided to leave out the fact that he liked you just in case it caused any unnecessary drama. After you finished putting on your dress and your heels, you started heading down to the living room and you could’ve sworn your heart rate increased as soon as your eyes landed on him. 

Everyone with good eyesight could see that Jaebeom was exceptionally good-looking. You actually hated just how handsome he really was; but seeing him with his hair slicked back, wearing a suit and tie was all the more breathtaking. You didn’t think it was possible he could get any more handsome than he already was. When his eyes landed on you, his eyes widened in shock and you even saw his jaw drop a little bit. His stunned reaction was making you feel things you know you shouldn’t have been. 

“Wow y/n you look—wow—“ 

You giggled softly as you playfully pinched his cheek as a way to prevent him from seeing the effect his words were having on you. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. Shall we get going?” 

He placed your corsage on your wrist and gave you his arm to hold while saying goodbye to both your parents. Jaebeom in more or less words, was the perfect gentleman. From the moment you both arrived to the hotel, he opened every single door for you, pulled out your chair for you and helped lift your dress to prevent it from dragging.

 As amazing as the night had been so far, you despised the fact that you wished it was Mark there with you instead of Jaebeom; but it was only human of you to do so. No matter how much hell he was currently putting you through, you would rather go through the ends of the earth to be with him than to go to heaven with anyone else. 

When your date excused himself to the bathroom, you decided to go on your phone until he was too come back. Right as you saw that you got a text notification, curiosity got the best of you since the only people who would get in contact with you these days were your parents, your siblings and Jaebeom. At first, you just assumed it was your sister wishing you a good time or your mom reminding you to watch your step. However, your heart both fluttered and sank when you finally opened up the message and saw who it was from.

Babe: Hey, are you free right now? Can we talk? 9:23 p.m.

You wanted to laugh hysterically. Out of all the times he could contact you, it had to be the night of your prom. A night where you were supposed to have fun and enjoy your last year and a half in high school. Was he really being serious right now? You wanted to leave his message on read; you told him that you were going to prom and you were sure he must’ve seen a couple of posts on social media from some of his friends in your grade that he still kept in touch with. But your heart was dying to hear what he had to say. 

For some reason, you thought it was something negative. Those three words never led to anything good. Was he finally feeling the distance between the two of you? Was it suffocating him as it was slowly killing you? You didn’t know what he was going to tell you, but you couldn’t let it wait.

You: Sure, let me just go outside real quick. 9:24 p.m.

You decided to send Jaebeom a quick message that you needed to make a phone call so that he didn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Once you made your way outside, you gave yourself a few seconds to recollect your thoughts. The last time you had a conversation with him that lasted for longer than five minutes was almost two weeks ago. It was currently almost summertime, yet the temperature was in the low sixties, so you began to rub alongside your arms to keep warm. After taking in a deep breath, you pulled up his contact and dialed his number. 

“Hey baby. How are you?” 

You absentmindedly rolled your eyes at his question. What did he care? How you’ve been no longer seemed to matter to him for over four months now, so what was so different about tonight? “I’m fine. What is it that you wanted to talk about? I’m kind of busy right now.” 

You didn’t mean to come off so coldly, but you were just so frustrated with the entire situation and you were anticipating something negative to fall from his lips. 

“Aw shit—I forgot. Tonight is your junior prom right? Damnit—if it’s any consolation baby, you look so fucking beautiful.” 

You were confused at his compliment; when did he get a chance to see you? Since you weren’t all too excited for tonight, you didn’t really post anything—nor did you feel the need to send him any pictures. Maybe your mom sent him photos of you or something. Right as you were about to respond, there were two hands that lightly covered your eyes. 

You knew exactly who it was without even having to guess; these were the hands you’ve held for more than half of your life. The same hands that would wipe away any tears that would fall from your eyelids. Mark. He spun you around and immediately placed a searing kiss upon your lips before you could even say or do anything. 

“Hi baby, missed me?” Seeing him for the first time in almost five months should have been more thrilling, yet when you looked at him, you felt nothing. No butterflies, no sparks, no increasing of your heart rate—nothing. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the love of your life. 

The boy in front of you held no familiarity at all. You wanted to react; you wanted to cry—to wrap your arms around him and kiss him all around his handsome face. You wanted to go in to detail about how much you’ve missed him and how these last five months without him were extremely difficult—but nothing came out. You could tell by his furrowed brows and the way he was biting his lip that he wasn’t expecting such an emotionless reaction from you. 

“What are you doing here Mark?” 

He frowned. Mark had a feeling he was being such an asshole towards you for the last few months. He knew the distance between the two of you was all his fault. It was killing him as much as it was with you. What you didn’t know, was that he took on a job in order to make some money for a trip back home—to see you. To say he was tired was an understatement. 

If he wasn’t at school, he was at work. If he wasn’t at work, he was at practice and the only time he had to rest was right before bed. There was no excuse for not reaching out to you more often; honestly all he wanted to do was to call you and see what you were up to. That’s why all your calls were so short. He didn’t care what the two of you talked about or how long the conversation lasted, he just wanted to hear your voice. It was what kept him going. 

No matter how hard college was for him, he knew he was going to get to see you again soon. If only he knew what his absence was going to do to your relationship; then he would’ve just asked his parents to pay for his flight home but it was a pride thing. Mark hated having to depend on people. He was independent from the day he could walk. Your reaction was the complete opposite of what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected. 

“I wanted to surprise you. Listen, I can explain why I haven’t been so involved in our relationship these days and I’m really sorry y/n. I’ve been such a jerk and you really don’t deserve that but—“

“I think we need to take a break.” 

You couldn’t even look at him; you were sure the two hours of makeup that the makeup artist work so hard on would get ruined if you were to see his reaction. It took you a long time to come to that decision; not once in your ten years of knowing him and loving him for would you have ever thought you would want to take a break from him. You never wanted to be away from Mark—ever. But he was never around anyway and waiting on him only interfered with what was going on in your life. It was also taking a huge toll on your mental health and you no longer wanted to give him that power anymore. 

“Y/n, you don’t mean that. Baby you’re just mad and you have every right to be. But please, hear me out—“ You let out a scoff of disbelief. 

“Hear you out? All I ever seem to do is hear you out Mark. Everything is always about you! Go check your messages. It’s always me—I’m always the one reaching out to you. I’m always the one initiating the calls, I’m the one staying up till the wee hours of the morning and going to school so exhausted just so I can talk to you. I—I can’t help but feel as though you fell out of love with me. Don’t get me wrong, your happiness, your health and your well-being is all I care about. But you don’t seem to give two shits about me or anything that goes on in my life Mark. I got a new job—I tried to tell you, but I never get any word in before you have to leave for school or for practice. I’m also on probation—my grades are shit right now and if I don’t get my act together, they’re going to hold me back an entire year and guess what Mark—it’s all your fault. I’m tired Mark. I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to give up all these years—these wonderful, amazing and unfathomably perfect years together because you’re being stubborn and refuse to hear me out? You’re giving up on us so easily y/n! You claimed that I fell out of love with you—you and I both know I am still so madly in love with you and I’m always going to be in love with you Damnit! What happened to all our plans huh? What happened to forever? You and I are soulmates y/n—did you forget that?”

“Of course I didn’t Mark—but don’t you dare play the victim in this. Our relationship is no longer what it used to be. I tried so hard—so fucking hard to get it back to what it used to be but each and every single one of my efforts went to shit because you obviously don’t think anything is wrong. I’m dying Mark. This relationship is going to be the death of me. I’m unhappy Mark. I haven’t been happy in such a long time. I’ve missed you so fucking much—“

“I’m here now baby. Fuck y/n I’m so fucking sorry baby. Please—please, please—let me fix this. I can fix this. I’m not letting you go this easy—fuck I’m never letting you go y/n. Get it through that thick head of yours. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” 

You hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek and released a gentle breath of relief when you felt him lean in to your palm. You grazed his bottom lip with your thumb before leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. Your heart was begging you to hear him out—stupid heart. Such a stupid—stupid heart. 

In his eyes, you could see the little boy who added an extra red piece in the slot when you weren’t looking so that you could win connect four against him. The same boy who gave you his shoes to wear as he walked with just socks on because he saw how much pain your heels caused you at his junior prom. There was not a doubt in your mind that Mark loved you even if you kept trying to convince yourself that he didn’t. 

The love he had for you was still there. It just wasn’t as fierce or as strong as it used to be. You wanted to deepen the kiss; you loved kissing Mark. There was nothing you missed more than having his pretty lips meld perfectly with yours—but you knew if you were to kiss him, your entire speech about going on a break was going to be for nothing. You rested your head against his chest before placing a gentle kiss right below his jaw. 

“I love you Mark. I truly believe I was made for loving you and I’m always going to love you. I have every intention to getting married to you, starting a family with you and spending the rest of my life with you. But right now, I think we need some time apart in order to find ourselves again. I lost myself loving you Mark—I gave you everything and you took it all without hesitance until there was nothing left. I need to learn to live without you Mark. I’m not giving up on us—I’m just doing what I feel is going to bring us back to each other again. You are my person Mark Tuan and I’m yours.” 

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours. His grips were tight on your waist and you began to tear up as soon as his chest began to heave against yours. You knew he was crying and you weren’t actually expecting any kind of emotion out of him; you were still so shocked to hear him grow angry with your decision. When you looked up at him and saw his eyes were now bloodshot red and filled with tears; you were ultimately regretting your decision. You wiped a tears away with your fingers and pecked his nose lovingly. 

“Don’t cry baby. In due time, we’ll be fine.” 

You were selfish; you were the one pushing him away, yet you still wanted as much time with Mark as you possibly could get. You didn’t know just how long it would take for you to heal, so you wanted to cherish this moment while you still could. Unfortunately, your little reunion with Mark was interrupted and you had a bad feeling that things were right about to go downhill. 

“Hey y/n, they’re going to start announcing the king and queen did you want to—oh—uh—hey man, you must be Mark. Nice to meet you.” 

Mark’s grip on your waist tightened as his jaw clenched; yeah—this wasn’t going to end well. Mark was the definition of a jealous boyfriend. One time, he almost ended up twisting BamBam’s arm when the younger boy made a joke about how you were in the bedroom. He was extremely protective and territorial over you—but since he’s been absent, he had yet to hear about who this guy was that seemed to know who he was. 

His eyes landed on Jaebeom’s tie and how it matched your dress perfectly. It only made him wonder—who exactly was this guy to you and why were you at the prom with him?

“Jaebeom, do you think you could go inside? I’ll be right there.”

He looked at your worried expression then noticed how both of Mark’s fists were balled at his sides. Jaebeom wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t all that bright when it came to his studies, but he could tell that you weren’t as happy as you played yourself off to be. Seeing how tense you and Mark both were, he couldn’t help but feel that your boyfriend was the reason. 

As much as he wanted to call Mark out for making you cry so much these days, it wasn’t his place to do so. He was just your friend and if he wanted it to stay that way, he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut. You relaxed when you saw him nod in agreement before walking back inside of the ballroom. 

“Mark, I think it’s time for me to head back—“

“Him. Is he the reason why you’re leaving me? Did you fall in love with him? Did you cheat on me y/n? Did you get lonely while I was away—working my fucking ass off at a job I hate in order to save enough money so I could come and see you?—“

“Mark, stop. You know it’s not like that—“

“Needed another dick to keep you satisfied while I was away? Is that what it is? What—did he say all these nice things about you to get you to fall for him? What is it y/n? What’s so good about him huh? What does he have that I’m lacking—“

“ENOUGH! Don’t you dare accuse me of cheating on you. You and I both know I would never EVER do such a fucking thing. My heart—this pathetic heart and what’s left of it, my mind, my spirit, my body—you own it all. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anyone else but you for you to get it through your fucking head? Stop trying to play the victim Mark! You’re at fault here! Accept it! Jaebeom is just a friend—he was here for me when I had nobody. I had no friends—my siblings are all out of the house—my parents are gone all the time and my boyfriend only calls me when he wants to—when it’s convenient for him. Jaebeom is a genuine friend Mark. You should be happy that I had him to keep me sane. Instead of wondering who he is to me, you should be focused on what you are to me. Good night Mark.” 

Jaebeom tried his best to cheer you up in any way possible, but he could tell by your body language alone that you just wanted to go home. He didn’t hear what happened after he left, but the curiosity was eating away at him. However, you already looked so distraught—he didn’t want to add on to it. You felt bad for Jaebeom—this was just as much his prom night as much as it was yours and now you ruined it for the both of you. What you could use was a three-month long nap. When Jaebeom dropped you home, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek before wiping a tear from your face that you didn’t even know fell. 

“I don’t know what happened earlier and I don’t expect you to tell me. But just know I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.” 

You didn’t know what it is that you did to deserve such an amazing friend like Jaebeom—if someone were to put you through what you’ve been putting him through since the day you met him, you would’ve dropped that person completely. But here he was—so understanding—so willing to give up and sacrifice anything for your happiness. You made a mental note to make it up to him once you were mentally ready to do anything. 

Your parents were shocked beyond words to see you coming back alone—they actually didn’t expect you to come home at all knowing that Mark was going to surprise you. They actually conspired with Mark to go and surprise you at the hotel because they’ve noticed how broken you’ve been for the last few months and they were hoping that seeing him again would get you in a better mood. Your mom was about to approach you, but it was evident that you just wanted to go to sleep. 

Only three days in to your break with Mark did you realize you may have made a brief lapse of judgement. Sure, it was as if nothing has changed. You were already used to not hearing from him; but now that you knew the two of you currently were not a couple, it made things all the more difficult. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days and days felt like months. Waking up felt like a chore; you missed him like crazy. 

Even if you only heard from him on his time, it was better than not hearing from him at all. Exactly one month after that heartbreaking night at your prom, you found yourself on a plane to New York. Once school was out for the summer, you found yourself at the grocery store almost every single day in order to make enough money to afford a round-trip plane ticket to see Mark with the hopes of mending your broken relationship. In this last month, you came to the realization that you were willing to have Mark in your life even if it was only once or twice a week; it was better than not having him at all. 

“A105, A106, A107—A108. Here goes nothing.” 

You were afraid that in the last month, Mark could have realized that maybe this break should be a permanent decision. He hasn’t tried to get in touch with you once since your prom night nor did he try to visit you once while he was still in California—but then again, you couldn’t blame him. He was giving you the space you asked for; now, you were hoping and praying he was going to open the door and welcome you with open arms. You knocked a few times and it felt as though you were about to throw up your heart. When you had yet to hear a response, you reached forward to knock again. When the door finally opened, the person behind it wasn’t who you were hoping it would be.

“Y/n?”

[songbirdsingingthings]

No Last Words

As the team is in the middle of an investigation, Y/N and Spencer go to investigate. But, terror strikes and hidden feelings are revealed as Y/N is in danger.

Today marked the 7th day that they were in Phoenix Arizona tracking down a deranged serial killer. His M.O. was something that the BAU had never come across - he would hijack buses full of people, drive them to a remote area, and kill them. Y/N racked her brain to try and determine what the killer’s next move would be, but she didn’t have to wait. She heard the glass doors of the room she was in fly open as Derek raced in, his breathing heavy.

“A bus has just been reported to be hijacked. It was last seen going past Agua Fria National Monument.” Derek said, looking at Y/N.

“That doesn’t make any sense - no forms public transportation even head in that direction. Not even tour guides lead trips out there.” Spencer said, sitting across the room from Y/N.

“That’s because it’s a field trip,” Derek said, causing a chill to go down Y/N’s spine, “the sick son of a bitch has hijacked a school bus full of fourth graders.” Y/N’s horrified expression was enough to make Spencer’s stomach drop. The two of them had grown to become good friends ever since Y/N had joined the BAU. They even lived one apartment building away from the other, so they would carpool to work together. To save gas. No other... hidden reason or anything. The truth was, the two had indeed developed feelings for each other, but neither of them acted on it because they were scared. Scared that the other didn’t reciprocate their feelings or that it might ruin their friendship. But, neither Y/N nor Spencer could think about those feelings at the moment, because Hotch had gathered the team in the room that the Phoenix Police Department had given them.

“Morgan and Prentiss, I need you two to canvass the elementary school. Find out if anyone hacked into their computer system or stolen files so that they could find out about the field trip. I’ve already informed Garcia, so she’ll be working closely with you. JJ, ride along with them so that you can speak to staff members, parents, or anyone who might be able to give you information. L/N and Reid, you need to drive the route that the unsub drove. This might be our only way to know what kind of roads the unsub prefers. Rossi and I will follow you, but we need to get the local police together first. Don’t engage if you find him, got it?” Spencer and Y/N nodded and gathered their things quickly. Y/N’s heart didn’t stop racing until they were about 30 minutes on the road. Thankfully, Spencer was driving.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, looking at you with concern. Pulling herself together, Y/N nodded and gave him the biggest smile she could muster.

“Yeah. I just want to find this guy before anything happens to those kids.” She said quietly. Spencer nodded and kept driving. A peaceful silence settled between the two of them, but was soon interrupted as Y/N saw something. “Spence! Stop the car!” She yelled. Spencer stopped the car, and then saw what Y/N had seen. A yellow school bus was parked at the side of the road, no one to be seen around it. Donning her bullet proof vest, Y/N unbuckled her seat belt. Just as she was about to open the door, Spencer put his hand forcefully over her’s to stop it. 

“Y/N, Hotch said we weren’t supposed to engage. We can’t go blindly in there.” Spencer said firmly, giving Y/N a hard stare.

“Spence, look, there are no shadows in the windows. No one. We need to look, or we may not catch him in time. We need to save those kids, or I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself as I have to tell multiple parents that their kids were murdered.” Y/N said, fire in her voice and eyes. Relenting, Spencer buckled his own vest and stepped out of the car slowly. Motioning for Y/N, she, too, stepped out of the car and made her way over to the open doors of the bus. Just as she had thought, there were no kids on the bus.

“Okay, I’m gonna look under the seats for anything that the kids might’ve left behind.” Spencer said, crouching to see under the wrinkled gray seats. Y/N was just about to respond until she felt cold metal press against the side of her head, pinching her ear. Frozen, Y/N peered to the side and saw the sick grin of their unsub. Y/N’s breathing became shallow, but she forced herself to remain calm.

“Spencer,” she whispered, looking at the man she loved as he examined a piece of paper from his crouched position on the floor.

“Y/N, I think I found something here,” Spencer said, not looking up from the evidence he had discovered, “this address is-” Spencer cut himself off as he looked up at Y/N. His eyes grew wide with panic as he saw the man that had claimed several lives pressed a gun against his love’s head. Drawing, his own gun, Spencer started to raise it up to face the unsub.

“I wouldn’t do that. Unless, you want this pretty little lady to die.” The unsub chuckled as his grip around Y/N got tighter. “It’s a shame that, even if your little friend over there does do what I tell him, you’re still gonna end up on the floor bleeding out.” This was it, Y/N thought. This was how she was going to die. She would never get to adopt that puppy she had her eye on for weeks that was at the shelter. She would never get to pay back Penelope for that one time she covered for her when they went out for frozen yoghurt and Y/N forgot her wallet. She would never get to tell Spencer... that she loved him. No, she thought, no way would she go without telling Spencer.

“Spence...” Y/n whispered, her cheeks now drenched with tears. Spencer took his eyes off of the unsub to look at her in her helpless state. His own cheeks started to become home to his salty tears. “I love you”. BANG! The shot of a gun went off, but weirdly, Y/N didn’t feel any pain. She dared to take her eyes off of Spencer to look down at the floor and see the unsub, dead on the ground. Y/N turned around to see Rossi, still with his gun raised. Overwhelmed, Y/N collapsed to the floors. Her body was shaking, but was soon encased in warmth. Spencer’s arms were wrapped around her small frame. One of his hands held her head and the other was holding her waist. 

“I love you too.” He whispered against her ear. Crying, but this time a mix of fear and happiness, Y/N pulled away from him a little, and leaned her head towards his. It was totally unprofessional, but they didn’t care. Spencer met her lips with his and kissed her softly, like she was made of glass and she would break. Pulling apart, Y/N leaned her forehead against his.

“I was scared that I was never going to be able to say that to you.” Y/N admitted.

“No last words from you yet, L/N.” Spencer said, earning a giggle from Y/N, and meeting her lips again. They pulled away which revealed a smiling Y/N.

“You wanna get coffee when we get home?” She said, quirking a small, shy smile.

“Anything your heart desires.” Spencer said, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her back to the car. Hotch did give her a good amount of scolding for going in blindly, but he was more relieved to see her safe and sound. The team flew home overnight. Y/N and Spencer curled up next to the other, which made the rest of the team grin.

“They’re something else, huh?” Morgan said, looking at JJ and Prentiss.

“They’re perfect for each other.” JJ said as Emily nodded. And perfect, they were. Of course, every couple has their scrapes and low moments, but the two were truly soulmates. Two hearts that beat as one. Perfect.

[jeannedarkterraguard]

Hey your girlfriend sounds adorable. Might i ask how you two met?

Ok, I've gotten this ask a few times now so i guess i should make an actual post about it.

Strap in this is gonna be a long post. (TL;DR at the end)

So Lisa and I actually met on our fist day of elementary school. We were in the same class, were sat next to each other and we immediately... hated each other. She was an annoying goody two shoes while I already had my “who cares attitude” and general disrespect for any kind of authority. We didn't really spend any time with each other outside of class, but in class we were bitter rivals. She spend most of her time studying so she was always on top of the class and I was (without trying to sound arrogant) intelligent enough that I didn't have to study at all to do pretty much as good as she did (it also helped that we were both the only ones who already knew how to read before getting into school).

That was how it was for about a year until one day we were writing a test and somehow I didn't know the answer to one question. which was when she leaned over and... just told me the answer. Needless to say I was pretty perplexed. Up until that point I thought she was just a stupid teachers pet and then she just helps me cheat... I was confused... (I have since asked her multiple times why she did that and her answer was: “It looked like you needed help”).

That same day I was for some reason not going home immediately after class and instead stayed a few minutes late. That lead to me seeing something I wouldn't have seen otherwise... Lisa sitting on the ground surrounded by three boys who were clearly picking on her. She was crying and I... I just didn't like seeing that (not in a “only I get to be mean to her”-way but instead I just wasn't used to seeing her cry because whenever I said something mean to her she'd just shoot something back with a shiteating grin. Like when I made fun of how she eats her bread and she just grinned at me and said “at least my mom doesn't have to cut the crust of mine”) so I decided to step in.

I punched one of the boys in the face and threw my backpack at another one at which point they just ran away. I helped Lisa up and she thanked me but was afraid that they would just return as soon as I was gone. I offered to walk her home which was when I learned that she lived just a few houses down the street from me. On the way she told me that these boys did that everyday since pretty much the first day of school and we agreed to walk to and from school together.

Not a lot changed after that... or at least we didn't notice how things changed... we didn't exactly become friends, or even stopped bickering with each other but we started spending time with each other during recess and our conversations became a lot less mean. (honestly looking back I would say we were friends from that point onward but at the time we didn't think so)

The first time I actually thought of us as friends was when someone else invited me to their birthday party and said I should “bring my friend” and I was like: “What? Lisa? No, were not friends! Are we? Hmm... I guess we kinda are friends”

It carried on like this for a few years (we were 15 at this point I believe) until our soccer-team (oh yeah, we were on the same soccer-team since before we became friends I didn't mention that before because it really wasn't important but... well it becomes important now) was having a game against a team on norderney (a little island on the coast of germany about three hours from where we live) and since it was during summer-vacation our trainer decided we should make it a weekend-camping-trip instead of just going there for one day and coming back in the evening. So we naturally shared a tent (now before I continue I just want to say that if we somehow ever meet in real-life and you bring the next part of this story up I will deny it ever happened). But because this was my first time traveling without my parents I was really home-sick and couldn't sleep and Lisa calmed me down by... we were cuddling okay... don't make a big deal about it!

After we came back from the camp, I was really fucking tired but apparently my body had decided that, after one weekend cuddling with my best friend, I would never be able to sleep again without her. The problem with that was, like I mentioned, it was summer-vacation and Lisa was visiting her grandmother for a week so that wasn't an option.

So after a week of maybe 2 hours of sleep per day Lisa returned (Fun-Fact: to this day that is still the longest time we spent apart from each other since becoming friends) and when she came over she looked like crap. Turns out she also couldn't sleep without me.

All of that wasn't a big problem since we already had sleepovers all the time (we actually each had an extra mattress in our rooms for that purpose) so about another year went by where we not only spent pretty much every waking moment together, but also every sleeping moment.

Then after about a year she found herself a boyfriend and we spend less time together, like we still saw each other nearly everyday but she understandably wanted to spend time with her boyfriend too.

(not to go into too much detail but I wasn't having a great time back then. Because at that point I was already madly in love with her but also too afraid to say anything because she had a boyfriend and as far as I knew she was straight)

One night I was sitting in the living room watching TV when the doorbell rang. I opened to find Lisa standing there, crying. Turns out her boyfriend was cheating on her, or rather he was cheating on his actual girlfriend with her. I invited her inside, we talked and... well everything basically got back to how it was before.

Then a few weeks after my 16th birthday my parents weren't home and we were having a Harry Potter marathon, playing some drinking game. (only with beer but we're both pretty lightweight when it comes to alcohol so we were still getting a bit tipsy by the time we started Goblet of Fire). Somehow she was reaching for the chips-bowl in my lap and our faces ended up just inches from each other and... we ended up kissing (I'm still not sure who initiated it... probably me). We immediately stopped, shocked by what just happened and we started rationalizing it (you know we were a little drunk and all that) and decided that it was just an accident and should never happen again... five minutes later we were making out. By the time we stopped again we were halfway through the Half-Blood Prince. We decided to call it a night and talk about it in the morning when we were both sober.

So after a night with little to no sleep for both of us (remember we were not used to sleeping alone anymore combined with what had just happened soo... yeah) we met up again and talked for hours. In the end we decided to actually try a relationship, but keep it secret in case it didn't work out (we weren't really the best at keeping it secret though so after only a few weeks one of our friends asked us, and I quote “when are you two finally gonna pull those sticks out of your asses and just fuck already”). And... well that's pretty much it. We moved in with each other after school, got two cats and have now been together for about ten years

And now that I see that all written down I realize how much my life sounds like a bad fanfic.

(TL:DR: We met in elementary school, spend a year hating each other, then became best friends for nine years and then became a couple)

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Always Led Back to You Chapter 4, a John Doe/Seraphina fanfiction from UnOrdinary.

Sooooooo guess who accidentally gave her boyfriend access to her AO3 account including all her smut fics? This girl. And by accidentally I mean I sent him this very fic I was proud of without realizing he now has all my AO3 fics at his disposal. 

RIP

Here’s chapter 4! Now we can get started!

Disclaimer: I don’t own UnOrdinary

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Seraphina felt like her head was pounding. She groaned, attempting to sit up.

“Easy there, Seraphina. You collapsed.” A familiar voice spoke out.

“Leilah?” Seraphina voiced out, feeling dizzy, having trouble focusing. What did that drug do to her? Did Leilah know that the drug would do that?

Suddenly, Seraphina felt sick and before she could stop it, she vomited bile all over the blankets.

“Ugh…” Seraphina wiped her mouth, her vision slowly beginning to focus. “Leilah, where’s John?”

“John?” Leilah blinked. “Who’s John?”

“The boy who saved us! The one with the dark hair!” Seraphina was losing her patience with her sister. Leilah went quiet. “Leilah?”

“Seraphina… what do you mean someone saved us? You mean from Mother and Father?” Leilah spoke cautiously.

“Leilah! Enough games! I’m talking about Spectre! Your organization!” Seraphina snarled viciously, the pounding of her head increasing with the returning of her vision. Finally, she could focus…

She was in her room. Her room from home. She hasn’t been here since she left home to return to Wellston to be with John…

And Leilah was there. She was there, and much younger than when Seraphina recently saw her.

“Lei… Leilah?” Seraphina questioned, confused. Leilah looked as if she’s seen a ghost.

“Seraphina… it sounds like you’ve had a bad dream…” Leilah smiled uneasily, quickly reversing the vomit off of Seraphina’s blankets so they were as good as new. She felt her younger sister’s forehead, trying to locate a temperature. “You suddenly fainted, and Mother and Father cancelled all extracurricular activities for the afternoon so you could rest.”

Seraphina didn’t respond, registering what Leilah told her. She climbed out of bed, despite Leilah’s protests and went towards her full body mirror.

It was her. She was in her twelve-year-old body.

“Seraphina, I’m going to bring you more food, okay? Mother putting you on a hunger strike must’ve messed with your body.” Leilah placed her hands on Seraphina’s shoulders. Seraphina paid her no heed, touching the mirror, tracing her image.

‘I’m twelve years old again!’ Seraphina thought. She was numb, and Leilah took this chance to lead her sister back to bed.

“Stay in bed and rest. I’m going to get you some food, okay?” Leilah told her. Leilah departs from her bedside and walks towards the bedroom door. However, she paused, keeping her green eyes ahead. “Also… I think you should forget your dream. I’ve never heard of Spectre.” With that, she exited the room, leaving Seraphina alone.

‘What’s going on?’ Seraphina’s heart began pounding in panic. ‘I’m twelve years old again! Is this some kind of illusion? How can this be possible?’ Despite her head pounding, she rose from her bed again, journeying back to the mirror to make sure she wasn’t imagining it.

Sure enough, her twelve-year-old self was still there staring back at her.

“I remember being in Arlo’s barrier against Spectre. Then Leilah… The drug!” Seraphina quickly brought her hand to her neck where she remembered the syringe being stabbed into her. She tried to feel for some evidence of a prick but could find none. She then brought her hands in front of her face, examining them. “Leilah said the drug was a prototype. Could it have interfered with my ability in some way?”

She reached inside her for the familiar echo she once knew. Anything to know she did indeed have her ability again…

Nothing.

“No…” Seraphina’s hands began shaking. “I’m still am a cripple? Then what happened?!” She ran her hands through her long magenta hair, attempting to gain some kind of semblance of reality in this new world. “So instead of gaining my ability back in the present, it caused my ability to send me back in time and have it no more?! What kind of sick antidote is this?!”

Seraphina tried to keep her voice leveled, but her entire being wanted to scream. Not only was she somehow in the past, but now she didn’t have her ability. What would happen if her parents found out? Would she be trapped here forever, with no escape? Seraphina wasted no time in grabbing her calendar, trying to in vain to gain some sort of control in this situation.

“I just started my final year in elementary school…” Seraphina whispered. “If this is correct, that means that Leilah will be running away from home before the year ends to join Spectre. I’ll be left alone with Mother and Father…”

With no ability, she didn’t dare finish out loud.

“I remember everything going black… and then…. John!” Seraphina’s eyes widened. “I remember John. I kept hearing him call my name. I remember thinking about him before everything went black…” Seraphina began to pace shakily, her pounding headache not helping her revert to a calm state at all. “Did thinking about John somehow effect how far I was sent back? But why this year…”

Suddenly, she stopped pacing, realizing exactly when she was.

“John started middle school this year…” Seraphina whispered. “John meets Claire this year… and then—” she turns to look at the calendar again, studying it. “John…”

“John’s priority was and has always been you”

-------------------

“Seraphina! I’ve brought you your soup!” Leilah cheerfully announces as she entered Seraphina’s room with a tray. “Seraphina?” Leilah called, finding her sister nowhere to be seen in her room. She walked farther into the room, placing the tray on Seraphina’s desk.

The room was tidy and perfect as usual. There was no sign of disturbance. However, something caught Leilah’s eye and she walked closer to Seraphina’s desk, finding her secret drawer has been opened.

“Her secret money stash…” Leilah whispered. Realization hit her then and she ran towards Seraphina’s closet, past all the clutter towards where Seraphina was hiding her backpack. “Her travel pack is gone...”

A breeze then caught Leilah’s hair, and she journeyed towards the window that was ajar, blowing the curtains gently in the room. It was dark outside, and nothing could be seen for miles.

‘Seraphina!’ Leilah screamed in her mind, heart stopping.

-----------------

‘I’m insane! I’m most definitely insane!’ Seraphina thought, head still pounding and body shaking, but she kept running at break neck speed. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this!’

If she hurried, she could catch a train ride set for New Bostin. She knew she had enough saved up from her stash to afford a ticket. She was leaving everything she knew, but Seraphina couldn’t find herself to regret her decision.

‘I can save him! There’s still a chance! This time John—you won’t be alone!’

She managed to make it away from her family’s estate into the city, traveling under darkness. Her clothes were covered in dirt from tripping so many times in the dark in her haste, but Seraphina couldn’t bring herself to care about her multiple cuts and scrapes nor the state of her clothes. Passersby ignored her, only crinkling their nose at her state of mess, before assuming she was a low-tier who was beat up and going back to their business.

Arriving at the station, Seraphina was elated to find it was still open, even at this late hour. She didn’t bother taking a break, despite her body’s protests, and made her way to the ticket counter. The attendant raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’d like a ticket to New Bostin.” Seraphina spoke.

“This ain’t no joy ride, kid. No money, no ride.” The attendant prepared to brush her off, knowing a ticket to New Bostin was out of her price range. However, the attendant was shocked when she slammed down enough money on the counter.

“Is this enough?” Seraphina asked. The attendant blinked, counting the bills, before nodding, dazed. Once she received her ticket, Seraphina wasted no time going towards her designated platform. She felt like she was on never ending adrenaline.

‘If I can somehow prevent John meeting Claire, then perhaps that would fix everything! I can work on a healthier way for him to cope! I can be there for him or take him to Wellston and we could meet Rei—’ so many possibilities swarmed her mind, and Seraphina boarded the train, unable to sleep. All she could think about was helping John—saving him from himself before he endured so much hurt from Claire’s betrayal and horror from being forced to relive his memories from Keon.

‘I will do for him what he did for me, but this time, I won’t wear a mask. It will be me at his side.’ Seraphina vowed.

She didn’t sleep a wink, too haunted by memories of John.

---------------------

John glared up at assailants. It was like this every day of his life and starting at New Bostin Middle School was no different it seemed.

What he wouldn’t give for an ability! He’d show these scumbags what it means to be afraid…

“What’s with the face, Cripple John?” his main assailant smirked maliciously.

“I think he’s bitter he’s a cripple.” Another bully voiced out. The three of them smirked mockingly at John, who stayed in his place against the wall, on the ground.

“Awww, is that it, Cripple John? You want an ability?” the leader cooed sickeningly sweet. His hand glowed, his grin manic. “I’ll show you a real ability.”

John readied himself, but the blow never came, for the next second, a magenta haired girl appeared out of nowhere and high kicked the leader straight in the head. He fell to the ground unconscious.

“What the hell—” his two lackeys shouted before the girl swiftly punched them both in the face, knocking them out cold.

John blinked.

‘What?’

He stared at the girl who had magenta hair in a high ponytail and bright cerulean eyes. She was breathing hard, appearing as if she was in pain.

They locked eyes. Cerulean met gold.

“Hi.” She said coolly. Then promptly passed out.

John stared.                                                          

“What… what just happened?”

---------------------------------

Seraphina arrived in New Bostin by morning, and set her sights on New Bostin Middle School. Hopefully she wasn’t too late, and Claire and John didn’t meet already. Otherwise, it would make her job at a lot harder.

‘I’ll handle it if it comes to that. First, I have to find him.’ Seraphina concluded, entering New Bostin Middle School grounds. She made sure to remain hidden to prevent a high-tier getting the surprise on her. ‘This doesn’t look as big as Wellston—come on! He should be around here!’

Finally, the sound of cruel laughter and punching reached her ears. Dread welled up in her stomach, and she immediately followed the sound. Peeking through the bushes, her heart froze at the sight.

It was John. He was younger, but she knew it was him. She’d know that mop of dark hair anywhere.

‘John… it’s really him…’ Her heart jump started, beating a mile a minute. There was her best friend. He existed in this strange world with her.

However, Seraphina took in the scene before her, frowning, realizing John was being bullied.

‘He really did have to deal with his all his life. He couldn’t escape from it. It was either be spat on or being corrupted. John can’t win no matter what role he’s in…’ Seraphina mourned, clenching her fists as the main leader readied a blast towards John.

Something clicked inside her, and without realizing it, her eyes began to glow.

‘I won’t let you be alone anymore!’ she shouted in her mind.  

Suddenly, she was there in front of John’s assailants, and she let loose on John’s main attacker before focusing on the other bullies. Before she registered what happened it was all over, and now it was just her and John.

They locked eyes, and it took everything Seraphina had not to cry.

‘It’s really you.’

What does she do now? John was right in front of her! This would be their first meeting to him. She needed something to catch his attention!

“Hi.” She said nonchalantly before all her adrenaline disappeared and her pounding headache took over.

Seraphina didn’t know what happened next because she swiftly blacked out.

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Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think if you can! Thank you to everyone who commented, liked, and favored this story!

[lovemesomesurveys]

[-lastcall]

how often do you look in a mirror, a day? I honestly avoid that as much as possible. If I need to, I spend as little time doing so. I’ve become extremely self-conscious these past few years.  

you are thinking about somebody, and who might that be? I’m not, though.

who is the last person to see you in your underwear? Just me.

you need to vent about things, who do you call? No one. I’d do that in a survey and/or series of tweets.

do you enjoy deep conversations? Yes.

did you/are you planning on going to college? I did and graduated. did you ever place in the spelling bees in elementary school? I never participated in one.

do you remember your kindergarten teacher? I do.

what color is the shirt you are wearing? Like a lilac or lavender color.

the last text message you sent out said..? “Oh okay.”

do you ever feel like you are being watched? I haven’t felt that in a long time.

what color is your bedspread? Light blue.

you get a text saying they love your older sibling. you say? I’d have no idea who would send such a text. I’d assume it was a wrong number and just ignore it.

what is your biggest kept secret about? Hmm.

if you see a shooting star, do you make a wish? I’ve never seen one.

does it take a lot to make you in a bad mood? Not these days that’s for sure. It happens in the blink of an eye at anytime, multiple times.

what is your favorite relative? I don’t choose favorites when it comes to that, but there are family members I’m closer to than others.

your mom says she is in love with your principal. you freak out, right? I’m not in school, but yeah that certainly would have been shocking.

what was your biggest fear as a child? Bugs.

my biggest pet peeve is one-worded texts, what is yours? Eating sounds. Gahhh.

why did your last relationship end? He decided he was done.

did your parents ship you off to summer camp as a child? No.

in ninth grade, all you cared about is what? *shrug*

what would be your acceptance speech if you won an award? Uh, I don’t know? That’s something I’d have to spend a significant amount of time to think about. I couldn’t just come up with something like that on the spot.

have you ever lost a close friend? Yes. A few.

are you angry at anyone? if so, why? Just myself.

when was the last time you smiled truly? It’s been a long time. :/

pick: mcdonalds, wendys, or burger king. McDonald’s.

what is the most played song on your ipod? I haven’t used my iPod since like 2012, so I have no idea.

why did you choose this survey to take? I haven’t done it before and felt like taking it.

are there mosquitos where you live? if not, consider yourself lucky. Yes.

have you ever been inside of the statue of liberty? Nope. I’ve never even been to New York. I’d like to someday, though.

what is the first thing (other than clothes) that you see in your closet? A couple of my mini backpacks hanging up.

have you actually watched JONAS, or just assumed it was stupid? I did watch it. I was a huge Jonas Brothers fan at the time. I still enjoy their music.

what is the first thing you think of when i say blue? Sadness.

how old are you? I’m 31 years old.

what is your name, anyways? Stephanie.

have you ever built a snowman? Nope.

i fell down the stairs five minutes ago, ever done that? No.

do you still own any stuffed animals? I have a room full of stuffed animals, majority of which are giraffes.

where is the weirdest place you have ever had a bruise? *shrug*

what is the most addicting thing you have ever done? Drink coffee the first time.

do you visit your grandparents on a regular basis? No. They live out of state, unfortunately. They used to travel here to visit every summer, but a few years ago they just couldn’t make the long drive anymore and I haven’t been able to make a trip there.

what kind of deodorant do you use? The Secret brand in powder fresh.

did you basically waste your life in school, if the world ends in 2012? We’re still here.

do you sing to songs in the car when you are alone? I don’t drive so I’m never alone in the car, but I do sing along to songs in the car anyway.

do you laugh at other people when they are alone in their car singing? No. have you every actually written a song? I’ve attempted to before.

the world will end in an hour. what do you do? Die? <<< Ha, yeah.

ever visited time’s square? Well, no, since like I said I’ve never been to New York.

do you live in a place that is full of snow or only wishful, in winter? No, sadly. I wish it snowed here.

ever accidently sent a text message to the wrong person ABOUT that person? Omggg, no. I would die.

what makes you relax? I haven’t felt relaxed in a very long time. I really need a beach trip. 

are you one of those camera whores? No? What’s a camera whore? Just curious... <<< Someone who loves to take selfies. I’m definitely not.

what is the longest amount of time that you have gone without sleep? A little over 30 hours.

ever cried in public? Yes.

what color eyes does the person you are currently head over heels about have? There’s no such person, currently.

does the weirdest dream you have ever had involve your history teacher? Uh, no...

d03z iiT b@hHt3R y3wH d@T ii R0t3 liiK3 diiz? it bothered me. YES.

how many christmas trees are in your home during the season? One real one and then the mini one in my room.

do you remember the reason for the season or are you all for the presents? I absolutely do remember the reason for the season.

how many trophies do you own? Zero.

have you ever played any sports that involve a ball bigger than a coconut? I’ve bowled before.

do you still watch cartoons? Yes. Just earlier I was watching Braceface.

what name do you think is the prettiest on a girl? I really like the name Autumn.

do ya know a guy named ben? Yeah, they go by that nickname.

ever told your date you were going to the bathroom and actually left? No.

what never fails to put you in a bad mood? The miserable summer heat.

do you journal/blog any? This is it.

have you ever read any sarah dessen books? No.

what is the first thing that comes to mind when i say green? Christmas trees on my mind now.

have you ever made a threat that you went through with? I don’t make threats.

how many pillows are currently on your bed? I’m surrounded by them.

do you share a bed with anyone, or is it allll yours? It’s alllll mine.

are you scared to be alone after you watch a scary movie? Nah. are you totally annoyed when taylor swift wins all awards at an award show? I’m personally not a fan, but hey good for her.

do you own any songs that are from limewire? Not since the late 90s/early 2000s...

have you smacked anyone’s butt today? No. I don’t smack anyone’s butt.

are you from the north/south/west/east? West.

ya live in America, right? I do.

would you ever want to be a celebrity? Nooo.

did you ever take ballet as a kiddo? No.

[galadrieljones]

As You Were (Chapter 6)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels at first like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret. While there, they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, and who have recently endured a terrible tragedy on their family farm. Amidst their joint desire to find hope for the future, the two groups decide to set out west together, changing the course of the story (as we know it), and the very course of their lives.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second game. Joel lives.

Chapter 6: La Crosse (Pt. 1) / The Lapp Farm (Pt. 1)

“Well, is that everything you hoped for?”

They found the church in a valley surrounded by dead trees. The main road was blocked and they’d had to hike for a long while off of Highway 61 to find it—through an elementary school campus, an old cemetery, which had been flooded so many times it seemed that certain of bones had begun to rise to the surface of the soil. The church was huge, thought Joel, much bigger than he had expected, with a rotunda and several wings extending in multiple directions. The building was old and made of stone, so much of it still stood, aside from the many rooftops. All was blackened and charred. It was clearly a Catholic church, but there were no indications left as to what it was called.

Noah stood out front, holding his shotgun. Joel stood a little ways behind him, unsure of what was going to happen, or how he should proceed. There were no signs of Infected on the way into the church grounds. The whole valley was wiped. They had only encountered a few signs, which looked old. They were makeshift, slabs of wood with black spray paint. They had said, simply: COTHS. most with directional arrows pointing them toward the city. Some had what looked to be flowers, painted hastily around the letters. Noah had no idea what they meant, but he said they were there last time, too. 

“The horde ambushed us by the side of the road,” he said, switching his shotgun from one hand to the other. “We had stopped to figure out where we were. The signs and the blockades got us confused.”

The sounds of nature, as usual, were deafening all around them. Noah began his story.

“We came up around the opposite side,” he said. “From behind the church. The cemetery and the elementary school, those were all full of Infected when I was here last. There was a big like, storm drain, on the other side of that hill over there. It seemed designed to trap the Infected. They would slide in, and then they couldn’t climb back out again. We tried luring some, but the horde was dozens deep.”

Joel just listened.

“When we got to this church, we barricaded ourselves inside these doors, and then we went down to the basement,” said Noah, “but some more were in there with us. My mom rigged up a couple explosives that killed a few. A bunch of them followed us up the stairs though and we locked ourselves in the rotunda, but they were coming. When they came through the door, my dad and my Uncle Nick hit them repeatedly with Molotovs and that’s what started the fire. It went up really fast, because there were gasoline stores, up above us, in a kind of balcony. A stash that we didn’t notice right away. The rotunda blew. We had to run, so we did. All of us. But when me and my mom got outside, we looked back and we were alone. My dad and my Uncle Nick never made it out. I don’t know if they stayed behind to buy us time, or they got tripped up or crushed, or what. I mean, the ceiling was falling. My mom wanted to go back in but I stopped her. We hid in one of the outer buildings till night, but the fire was still burning, and nobody came out. There were more Infected in the woods. It was spreading. I drove us home.”

Before Joel could say anything then, Noah had begun to make his way up to the church doors. He felt along the hinges, and then he tried slamming one of the doors open with his shoulder. It budged, but it was clearly blocked. He took a step back and looked up as if to try and assess another way in.

“That's a lot of bad stuff,” said Joel. “But I can assure you, there ain’t nobody left inside.”

“No shit,” said Noah. He put the shotgun strap over his shoulder. “I wanna get in to find that gasoline stash.”

“You said it got blown up.”

“Yeah,” said Noah, “but maybe there’s like a clue or something, about whose it was.”

“I doubt anything is left behind, after what you described, and the looks of this place. This—I don’t think we should go in. It’s too dangerous.”

“When we came through these doors last time,” he said, “there was a big tarp, hung like a banner from the wall. It was the same letters as on those signs you see coming in.”

“COTHS?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah. “It said, Welcome Home, COTHS. Maybe if we can get in, there will be more information about what that means. Maybe something survived the fire.”

“Why do we need to know what that means?”

“Because maybe, if we can find them, they can tell us what’s been happening to the river.”

Joel took a deep breath. He ran his hand along the heavy door, which was singed along the outsides and on all the corners. The smell of burning was long gone, he thought, and replaced with the ambient smells of nature and you could hear birds and the cicadas rip-roaring through the trees. He dropped his hand to his side. “You wanna find out what’s been going on pretty bad, don't you?”

“Yes,” said Noah. “I need to know.”

Joel turned around, looking back out toward the road, where they’d left the truck. Readying himself for the consequences that most likely lie ahead of them, he said, “Why don’t we just follow the signs then?”

Noah was thinking on it. It was a warm day, and humid, and he had his sleeves cut off on his tee-shirt. His sunburn from the day before had turned into a very deep tan. He said, “Do you think it could be that simple?”

“Ain’t nothing that simple,” said Joel. “But it’s a start.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Hang on.” Joel clasped him on the shoulder. “You gotta know, Noah. I been down these kinds of roads before. It ain’t never easy.”

“What kind of roads?” said Noah.

“It’s been a lot of years, since the Outbreak,” said Joel. “Things changed. Rebel armies rose up, people gave up hope in a lot of places—It don’t look like the military has been through here in a very long time, but this here is a city, with enough people to cause problems. There is no telling what we are walking into.”

Noah was staring straight at him, but then he was looking down at his boots, seemed to be calculating something in his mind.

“Now I ain’t trying to deter you,” said Joel, “from finding out what went wrong here, because it destroyed your home. I said I'd help, and I will. I’m just warning you. And I’m saying, if we are gonna walk into a potential enemy territory, we need a plan.”

Noah nodded. He unzipped his backpack. He unfolded a map from the front pocket. It was a map of the University of Wisconsin, La Crosse. He showed it to Joel. “The travelers who came through,” he said, “the ones I mentioned yesterday at the trench, they gave this to my dad before we came up here. They had marked this building, where they said they saw some gnarly shit going down.”

“What kind of gnarly shit?” said Joel.

“They didn’t get into specifics,” said Noah. “Or, if they did, nobody told me. Maybe the signs lead here.”

Noah handed Joel the map, and Joel was trying to understand exactly what it was he was seeing. “Looks like the building you’re talking about is something called Centennial Hall.”

“Centennial Hall,” said Noah. "Good. Let's do it."

Joel studied the map, and then he studied Noah. He had not seen such fire inside a person, not in a long while. “Okay,” he said. He folded up the map, shoved it in his back pocket. “Let’s get a couple things straight first.”

“Fine,” said Noah.

“If we’re gonna do this,” said Joel, “I need you to listen to me. Okay? Take my lead, do exactly as I say. I understand that you seem know what you’re doing, and I trust you to hold your own, but trust me when I say that I got a lot more experience with navigating occupied urban areas than you do. Can we agree on that?”

Noah processed, and then he nodded sternly. “Okay,” he said.

“Good,” said Joel. He looked around, took a deep breath and ignored the nagging impulse to ponder his dumbass, impending mortality, yet again. “Let’s head back to the road,” he continued. “We’re gonna get in the truck, drive as close to the city as we can. Then we’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

Cici and Ellie had to take Cici’s truck that day, over the hill and to the Lapp's scrapyard, to get more fuel for the generator. To trade they had forty one-gallon bottles of fresh water in the bed of the truck, sourced from the Fox River to the east.

“So what’s the rest of the state like?” said Ellie. She had her arm hanging out the window, watching the trees fly by. They were on a shady dirt road that ran alongside the river. “Joel said he expected it to be flatter.”

“Wisconsin is very green,” she said. “And very flat. It is mostly forests and farmland, to be honest. But there are some bad places. Cities. Just like anywhere.”

“Like what cities?”

“Like Milwaukee,” she said. “Kenosha. Racine.”

“I've heard of Milwaukee," said Ellie. "Were there really no QZs in Wisconsin?"

“Not really,” said Cici. She had her blond hair tied back, loose, and pieces of it were falling into her face as she drove. “Those all used to be port towns in the old days, and then they were factory towns, before the Outbreak. I had only been to Milwaukee twice. My husband had some family there. It was big enough, and it should have had an actual QZ.”

“Why didn't it?” said Ellie.

“I don't know why. My dad used to say they didn't have the manpower, but some people said that the infection rates weren't high enough in Wisconsin yet to warrant it. All I know is FEDRA evacuated people from those areas down to the Chicago QZ,” she said. “When they got to the gates, though, the QZ was already too full. A lot were turned away and had nowhere to go.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“No,” said Cici. “It was messed up. I remember seeing it on the news, that they finally tried to outfit a small QZ in Milwaukee to house the overflow, but it was too late. A lot of those people got sick, or they armed up and resisted. The Fireflies—I hear you know about them?”

“Yeah,” said Ellie. “I know about the Fireflies.”

“Well, they started giving them weapons, but it backfired. I think the military abandoned the area, including the Chicago QZ, maybe five or six years ago? The Milwaukee QZ never even got off the ground. It was totally shuttered." She looked down at her knuckles where she held onto the steering wheel. Ellie could tell that Cici was worked up about it, that maybe it had something to do with her husband. "You guys were right to try and avoid that part of the country. It’s bad.”

“Jesus,” said Ellie. “In Boston, we still had soldiers. I mean, I heard they were trying to leave? But the military was like, a basic part of life. It's basically what I was training for.”

“Did you feel safer?” said Cici. “Having soldiers around?”

Ellie watched her hand, resisting the wind as they drove down the dirt road. It was hot out. She wore a tee-shirt and had bandaged up her arm to hide the bite marks. “At first, I thought so. I thought, you’d have to be crazy to wanna kill soldiers. But when I was with Joel and Tess, trying to get out of the city, they were trying to kill us, and like, it was scary. I mean it didn’t help that they were constantly at war with the Fireflies either. Nobody could trust anybody else. I guess that’s why we left in the first place.”

“Joel and Tess?” said Cici. She looked at Ellie, away from the road.

“Oh,” said Ellie. “Yeah, Tess. I—wait. What the hell is that?”

Cici slammed on the breaks. There was a figure, a girl, coming toward them, walking right down the middle of the road. To Ellie, she looked like some kind of nun.

“Oh my god,” said Cici. She got out of the truck right away, left it on to idle. “Ellie, stay here.”

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Just stay here.”

Cici got out of the truck slowly. She had her hand on her side-arm. Ellie opened the door and stood up on the running board, to try and see what the hell was going to happen. As the girl got closer, Ellie could see now that there was blood on her hands and on her plain blue dress. She wore something like a little white bonnet over her mussed hair. She was not a nun. She had to be one of the Amish.

As Cici approached, she held out one hand, as if coaxing a small animal. “Danielle?” she said. “Danielle, are you okay?”

The girl stopped when she saw Cici and looked like she’d been crying. Her hands were bloody, she was getting blood on her face and in her dirty blond hair. Ellie could barely make out what they were saying, but she could catch a little.

“Are you bitten?” said Cici. She held the girl by the shoulder, to steady her.

“No,” said the girl. “I don’t—I don’t think so.”

“What happened?”

“I was just in the barn.”

“Who’s blood is this?”

She said nothing.

“What happened?”

“I was in the barn,” she said. “Gathering eggs. One of them was in there. It is locked inside. I was coming to find you and Noah.”

“Where are Zach, and your dad? Where’s Becky?”

“Zach and my dad are out hunting,” she said. “They’ll be back tomorrow. Becky is at the house. She fell asleep on the day bed. She is safe.”

“Come with us,” said Cici. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I—Thank you. Who is she?” said the girl—Danielle. She had a slight accent, Ellie thought, but there was no way to know what it was. She was staring and pointing at Ellie. She had to be at least Ellie’s age, maybe a little older.

“That’s Ellie,” said Cici. “She’s a friend. Come on.”          

They drove silently, about another mile or so, up a hill. Ellie stared outside at the grass. You could see a very long, green lawn with many tall trees now, including a weeping willow, and nested behind them a white house, which was very simple, with gray shutters and a pair of wooden rocking chairs on the porch. Danielle, the Amish girl, stared down at her hands the entire ride. They were bloodied, and this seemed to really disturb her. Ellie could tell. She sat in between Ellie and Cici on the bench in the cab of the truck.

“I’m Ellie,” said Ellie, awkwardly. Even though she had already been introduced, she felt like she needed to fill the silence with something. She was trying to play it cool, but she didn’t hold out her hand, because she didn’t really know the rules.

Danielle smiled at her, demurely. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. I’m Danielle. I’m sorry about this.”

“Pretty freaky, huh?” said Ellie. “I’ve had those things sneak up on me before, too. It’s not fun.”

A little surprised, Danielle had very bright blue eyes, like swimming pools. “No, it is not fun at all,” she said. “I had to push it away. This is…this is its blood. Not mine. It did not bite me, or get is nails in me. I don’t know why it was bleeding, from its face and neck and shirt. I don’t understand. They are so sick, the Infected. It’s so sad.”

Ellie thought this was a strange point of view, but she listened. “Have you guys, uh, been getting a lot of them, too? Wandering on your property?”

“More lately,” said Danielle. She was scrubbing her hands with her skirt now, trying to get the blood out the crevices. “Cici, we heard explosions again yesterday. Is everything all right?”

“Not really,” said Cici. “But we’re okay. Ellie and I were just driving over to the scrapyard for fuel. We need to keep the electric fence running.”

“Is Noah home?”

“No,” said Cici. “He’s on a supply run.”

Danielle nodded. She turned to Ellie then. She had a wide, warm face, like the sun, and a soft voice. She said, “Are you new on the farm?”

“Me?” said Ellie. “Uh, yes.”

“How did you find this place?”

“My friend and me—his name is Joel—we got lost, coming out of Chicago. We ended up here. He’s actually with Noah now. Helping, get the supplies.”

“You must have gotten very lost if you found yourselves here.”

“That’s what they tell me,” said Ellie.

“I see,” said Danielle. “Cici, did you tell them not to drink the water?”

“We did,” said Cici.

“Good.”

They arrived at a large wooden fence with a tall white gate, and they parked. Around the back of the house, as they had come around the bend, you could see a flower garden, and a clothesline, as well as a wooden swing set, and a tire swing, hanging from an old oak tree. You could not see any scrapyard. But you could see the red barn with the doors chained shut. There were also several acres of corn. The property was empty out front, but if you looked closely upon parking on the drive, you could see fine barbed wire, laid down like a grid across huge swaths of the lawn. It was sneaky and unexpected, and it scared the shit out of Ellie, because she had legitimately not seen it there at first.

“Holy shit,” said Ellie. “What’s this for? More traps?”

“Yes,” said Danielle, as she got down from the truck. “Cici and Noah laid it for us earlier this year.”

“That’s crazy. You ever catch anything in all that?”

“You’re funny,” said Danielle. When she laughed, she sounded like a mouse. Ellie did not feel funny, but it was nice to hear her laugh. “Please come inside, just for a moment. while I clean up. Then I’ll show you where I locked it.”

The inside of the house was plain but, Ellie thought, lovely. All of the furniture was simple and sturdy, carved from wood, and there was a basin but no faucet, a propane stove, and all of the light fixtures were oil-burning. Ellie saw what she was pretty sure was a loom, and many quilts with beautifully bold geometric patterns. They looked similar to the quilts on her and Joel’s beds back at the farmhouse, and Ellie wondered if this might be where they’d come from. In the kitchen, there was a bowl full of brown eggs and a pie cooling on the windowsill. The house was warm and a little stuffy, and the floors creaked beneath their footsteps. Danielle took off her bonnet and set it on the kitchen table beside a terra cotta pot of purple flowers. Danielle scrubbed her hands in the basin, and then her face, until the blood was gone. She was sure to check her arms and hands for bite marks, though she swore she was not bitten, and there was nothing. She was clean, just a little worse for the ware.

“Becky should be here somewhere,” said Danielle. “Becky?” She called out, but the house felt empty. “Where could she be.”

“What kinds of flowers are these?” said Ellie about the pot on the table.

“They’re wood violets.”

“They smell really good.”

Danielle smiled. She looked around again, standing plainly in the kitchen with her hands folded in front of her. She said, “Becky?”

“I will take care of the Infected in the barn,” said Cici. She had not really left the doorway. She didn’t seem uncomfortable, but Ellie could tell that she had not spent much time inside the house, despite having known the Lapps for many years. “Ellie, why don’t you come along.”

“Okay,” said Ellie.

“Becky?”

“Is everything okay?” said Cici.

“I’m not sure,” said Danielle. “Becky was asleep right here, on the day bed, by the window.”

“Is Becky your sister?” said Ellie.

“Yes,” said Danielle. “She is my brother Zachary’s wife. She is pregnant, so she sleeps often.”

“How long has she known?” said Cici.

“A few months.”

“That's a blessing. Best wishes to you all.”

“Thank you.”

“Could she be upstairs?” said Ellie. “I thought I heard something, just now.”

“She must be. Becky?”

Joel and Noah drove until they hit what looked to be the town. They parked at an O’Reilly’s Auto Parts, hauled their backpacks onto their backs, and loaded their guns. The signs continued, most of them nailed to other kinds of signs: COTHS, they read. C.O.T.H.S.

C O T H S

La Crosse had never been a big city. Joel didn’t know a lot, but he could gather as much. It wasn’t big, but it was a college town, and that college was big enough to have a football team. It would have been home to a lot of people during the initial Outbreak, probably forty or fifty thousand, and it was probably a metro-hub for these little Driftless, farming towns, too, with a good hospital, warehouses, factories, and some semblance of a retail industry. It would have been a lot of meth, he thought. Maybe not so much in the city proper, but in the outskirts, in the tin cans and the trailer parks. As a city on the banks of the Mississippi, it would have pretty pockets but mostly, it was just franchises and mini-malls, like anything else.

But this was strange, thought Joel. The goddam of it was, it seemed empty. Really empty. Like, god no longer smiled upon this place, as if something evil had given up on this place, gone on its way. There was nothing. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just the trees, and the nature noises, the grasses, which had grown so tall, they engulfed the cars abandoned at the side of the road. There was a McDonalds sign, growing out of a massive, twisted heap of vines and bramble and it made Joel think of small things that still broke his heart from childhood. He pushed it down.

“This is fucking weird,” said Noah. The air smelled ripe in some places. Rotten. Like an overgrowth of mold in the washing machine. “What the fuck is that smell?”

“Something bad happened here,” said Joel.

“Hey, look,” said Noah. He was headed toward another one of the signs. It said: COTHS.      

“Yep, another sign,” said Joel.

“No, look,” said Noah. He got closer. He had to snap a couple saplings to get to it. This sign was on the ground, leaning against a tree. He pushed back the tall grass, and the milkweed to reveal the rest.

Joel squinted at the words, more paintings of flowers. “Circle of the Holy Signal,” he read, “Welcome all ye who seek submission in its eyes.”

“Circle of the Holy Signal," said Noah. "COTHS. Sounds like a religion or something. Is that good?"

Joel looked around, listening to the cicadas. There were zero recent signs of human life. “Not always," said Joel, suddenly feeling watched, or left behind. "Let's get a move on."

[chelsfic]

Trustfall Part 2 - August Walker/Reader - Mission: Impossible Fallout fanfic

Image: Stock image of multiple locks on a door beside an image of Henry Cavill with scruff and mustache and a curly lock of hair falling over his forehead. The Henry pic came up in a Google image search, but I think it should be credited to: @kinghenryviii-i-am

A/N: You’ll notice from some details (references to dollars, stores, elementary school) that this fic is set in the U.S., not in London. I felt it would be more authentic for me to write within my own frame of reference rather than try to manhandle English colloquialisms and such. You can think of it as AU. Or, I can just admit that I’m a bit lazy. Either way I really hope it doesn’t take you out of the plot.

P.S. I’ve never had a plan in my entire life. Somehow, this is the Home Depot episode of Trustfall. Enjoy!

Part One

***

You make up the guest room because that’s what you do when you have a guest. Never mind that the guest is a (former?) terrorist...a double agent and a traitor. Never mind that you don’t strictly want him here and he’s less of a guest and more of a...passive captor. Never mind all that. Making the bed with fresh sheets and putting out clean towels is what you do when you have...a guest.

“So...,” you gesture to the open doorway. The same doorway where you stood frozen, three weeks ago, while he pointed a gun at you. The memory rises like an unwanted specter before your eyes and you need to take a steadying breath before you can go on. “This will be your room. Th-there’s a bathroom attached. The linen closet is just across from you if you need more towels or blankets. I had an extra toothbrush so I put that on the sink for you….a-and the kitchen is downstairs just across from the living room if you g-get hungry…”

You’re rambling and this really is absurd. The bastard may be paying you but there is no reason you have to be nice to him. It’s like your brain is short-circuiting. You hate him for what he did to you and for making you feel scared in your own home. But you’ve never had it in you to seek out conflict when you find it so much simpler to take the high road and be able to live with yourself as a “nice person.” It’s a dysfunction. You should probably see a therapist about it. Or hit him. Maybe you should hit him. 

In an effort to assert yourself you add, “And keep out of my room. And my office downstairs. I’m not agreeing to you having access to every inch of my personal space.” 

The effort is somewhat diminished when you spy the unreadable, hard expression on his face and tack on a “please” to the end of your demand. Damn it.

“Of course,” Walker smiles and how can it be allowed for him to look so boyish and charming? He’s a criminal! “This is still your home, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It sure doesn’t feel that way.

***

It’s amazing how quickly you can become accustomed to the most bizarre changes. Before you know it a  week has passed. Walker...August...keeps to himself in his room. He’s gone out a few times, always at odd hours. Sometimes he’s not back yet when you wake up in the morning. But for the most part he’s just...there. All the time.

You’ve spent every night since he came here laying in bed with your hands fisted in the blankets and your eyes locked on your door. His room is just on the other side of your bedroom wall and you can sometimes hear the muffled noises of him moving around at night. So far he’s respected your request that he not invade your space more than necessary but that can’t last, can it? You find yourself mentally reliving those terrible moments. The cold apathy in his eyes as he stood over you. The false concern in his words before he pulled the trigger. Why would he say he was sorry? If he was sorry...if he’d cared he wouldn’t have done what he did.

In the mornings, you feel tired, wrung out. This can’t go on. You’re due back at work on Monday and you can’t teach a class of second graders on no sleep. Friday afternoon you drive to the hardware store and purchase a sliding lock kit for your bedroom door. August is in the kitchen when you get home. He watches you set your bag on the kitchen table and remove the contents. 

You look up at him feeling absurdly guilty. You force yourself to square your jaw and look him in the eyes, “It’s for my bedroom...I can’t...I can’t sleep at night.”

August’s eyes flash with emotion before he carefully schools his features. He’s been trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible. For all he manipulated you into this situation he isn’t a sadist--he doesn’t want you to feel afraid. He just doesn’t know what he can possibly do to reassure you. 

He nods sensibly and comes over to inspect your purchase. It’s a simple sliding lock like the kind you’d see on a public restroom stall. He picks up the package turning it over in his hands. He’s standing right next to you, looming, and you’re aware again of his massive presence. You can feel the heat of his body and you can smell the scent of him. He smells like fresh soap and gun oil. You’re suddenly aware that he’s wearing casual clothes, a t-shirt and jeans and thick, white socks. The outfit makes him seem so normal, so human. Without your permission you feel your body sway toward him like a mosquito flying toward an electrified lamp. Why are you attracted to something that can hurt you?

“Smart,” he remarks, setting down the package, “but this type of lock won’t do much to keep out someone who’s determined.”

“What?” you ask sharply with a look of suspicion. Surely he must realize the lock is meant to keep out *him.* From the apologetic look he flashes you, you can tell that he does know. So why is he telling you this?

“Why don’t we head back to the store and find something more heavy duty?” he suggests.

***

Walking through Home Depot with August Walker at your side pushing a big, orange shopping cart is surreal. There’s no way you can forget who you’re with either because he draws attention. He’s tall, muscled and striking; people’s eyes are drawn to him like magnets. You wonder how he ever got by working under cover. 

He swings down aisle after aisle with a purposeful stride that leaves you nearly tripping over your crutches to keep up. When you reach the aisle with locks, doorknobs and other odds and ends he selects a heavy metal deadbolt from the wall display and tosses it into the cart.

He turns to you, looking doubtful, “Do you have a power drill at home?”

“Err...no,” you reply sheepishly.

He moves on: screws, drill, drill bits, a hole saw. Then he’s leading you to the back of the store and down an aisle lined with different style doors. You hook your hand into the crook of his elbow to slow him down.

“August!” you exclaim, practically out of breath trying to keep up with him. “I don’t need a new door.”

“Yes, you do,” he says simply and turns back to display. He selects a heavy steel door that looks more suitable for a jail cell than your bedroom.

“That’s hideous!” you snort, forgetting your anxiety and nerves.

August huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “It’s secure.”

When the cashier rings everything up the total comes to over six hundred dollars. You widen your eyes and reach into your pocketbook with trepidation. You just don’t have that kind of extra money. August pulls out his wallet and hands over a stack of hundreds without batting an eye. You stare at him in shock and he just shakes his head as if it’s nothing. You are going to have a talk about household expenses. 

***

You watch him hang the new door, greasing the hinges and testing the swing of it opening and closing. You’re perched on the end of your bed and he’s standing in the doorway wearing a tool belt and changing out the bit in his drill to start making the hole for the deadbolt. You let yourself enjoy this bizarre, peaceful moment. Watching him do home repair is so...oddly calming. August could be your handyman or...your husband. 

But...he’s not, you remind yourself. No, this man is the reason you need a steel door installed in your bedroom in the first place. The reason you can’t sleep at night, the reason you have nightmares that cause you to wake up with tears in your eyes and a sob in your throat. You can’t--you cannot forget that. 

August finishes up installing the lock and the doorknobs. He takes his time tightening the final screws and checking that the lock slides effortlessly into position. As he fiddles with these adjustments he watches you from the corner of his eyes. You’re seated on the bed with your good leg tucked underneath you, chin resting on your palm and paying attention to everything he’s doing. Your posture is looser than he’s seen it since his arrival and he feels a rush of warmth in his chest that he can’t identify.

 All he knows is he hates seeing the flash of fear in your eyes every time he catches you unaware. He hates seeing how tired you are in the mornings. And he really, really hates the muffled sounds of sobs that come from your bedroom late at night. He wants you to feel safe again. He knows he robbed you of that feeling. When he came here a week ago it was with the calculating intention of taking advantage of the damage he’d done and forcing you into a position of being at his mercy. But since he’s been living with you and witnessing the consequences of everything he’s done all he feels is an unfamiliar guilt eating away at his stomach and making him feel like worse than vermin. 

He swings the door closed and twists the lock into place with a satisfying click. He turns to you with a smile and a feeling of accomplishment that he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“There,” he says, twisting the lock again and opening the door so that you don’t feel trapped with him in your bedroom. “Now you’re safe.”

Tag List:

@thorins-queen-of-erebor @viking-raider @onceuponathreetwoone @angelic-kisses13 @afangirldaydreams

[queenmuzz]

Deep Blue Sea:  Chapter VII

Cutting Questions

Read full on Ao3 HERE

I can’t believe I agreed to try this on. You stared at the multiple copies of yourself in the full body mirrors as you cringed at the multi-angle view of the monstrocity masquerading as a wedding dress.  It was far too floofy, with enough taffeta layers that made you think that you were a pure white pastry.  And the bodice was far too tight, even for just a try out.  You swore your lower ribs were being crushed as the lady pulled the laces of the corset, and it took all your willpower to not cry out.

“There we go…” she said, triumphantly, and she twirled you around so you could get a good look at every side of this disaster.  “We may have to let out the bust a bit, and a little at the waist, but you look stunning!”

I look like a goddamn jellyfish, was all you could think.

You waddled out, attempting to not trip over the fluff that obscured your legs, to face the duo that eagerly waited for your appearance.  Surely they would find it as ridiculous as you did!  But the look on your mother’s face was not encouraging.

“OH MY GAWD,” she said with tears in her eyes…”You are absolutely gorgeous!  The dress suits you perfectly!”

“I dunno,” you said, attempting to be diplomatic.  Last thing you wanted to do is be known as a bridezilla, “I’m not sure it fits me”

“Well, of course,” she crooned, “It’ll need some alterations, but you’ll feel like a princess walking down the aisle with it.  The congregation will love it!” She was obviously taking the word ‘fit’ literally.  “And what do you think, Sarah?”

You silently prayed that your best friend would at least have the gumption to say something.  “It looks nice….” she started politely “but perhaps it could use a splash of colour?”

Your mother’s eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together.  “Yes!  A light pink would really bring out the colour of the diamonds on your engagement ring.” She paused, pinched up her face and thought for a second, chin in her hand.  “Ah!  Sequins!  You need more sequins!  It’s all the rage wedding this season.”   She turned to the saleswoman. “You MUST have something like that!”

The saleswoman, surprisingly, was a bit hesitant, considering she was about to make a major commision off this sale gently prodded, “I’m sure the bride would love to add to the suggestions.”

“I was hoping,” you started, “That it would be a bit less ostentatious.  Something a bit more simple, less fancy”

“Nonsense,” your mother interrupted, “This is YOUR day, you need to go all out!  With luck, this will be the most important day of your life.” She turned back to the saleswoman.  “Money is no object, but my daughter MUST look her best for her special day.”

The lady turned to you, to get your approval, and you wanted to say something, anything to get out of wearing yet another hideous top designer couture, but that excited look on your mother’s face just made you hesitate.  You couldn’t bear to see her face fall as you told her what you really thought of that dress. (Pink?   Your mother had to know you hadn’t liked that colour since elementary school!) And how sequins just didn’t suit you at all, you preferred the slender, simple backless gown with the green sash at the waist, that stood at the front window.  (The sneer your mother gave at it when you suggested it was enough to shut your mouth.)

But it was late afternoon, and you’d tried almost a dozen dresses, and frankly, you were tired.  And when you really thought about it, you’d only be wearing the dress for one day.  Perhaps your reticence was unreasonable.  After all, your mother had worn three different wedding dresses throughout her lifetime, and perhaps she knew what was best for you, maybe you should just trust her.

“Very well…” you said, and your mom giddily followed the sales lady to the back. You flopped down inelegantly on the cushioned sofa, and sighed.

“You know,” Sarah volunteered hesitantly, “this is supposed to be YOUR day, you shouldn’t be such a doormat”

“I’m not a doormat!” you hissed, attempting to not cause a scene.

“Suuuure you’re not,” she said rolling her eyes, before looking back at the dress in the window. “I love you to bits, but man, you gotta stand up for yourself.  You keep letting your parents push you around, it’s not gonna ease up, no matter how much you give in to their demands”

You cracked, just a little bit, Sarah had a point.  You spent your entire life trying to live up to their standards, and yet, it was never enough.  There was always a way you were supposed to dress, a business you should look into, a new contact you should make, a man you were supposed to marry-.  You decided that you would let that train of thought leave the station.

“I can’t,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands resting in floofiness that was your lap, “they’re expecting so much of me, I’d be letting them down right now”

“Well,” Sarah countered, “you stood up to them before, when you said you wanted to go into Marine Biology all those years ago.  I remember the  horrific arguments you had with both of them, you even stayed with me for a few weeks until they gave in.  And look where it got you, a Doctorate in your dream subject, and the ability to do the thing you really love; explore the ocean!”

“That’s because I felt passionate about it, Sarah”

“So does that mean you aren't passionate about this wedding?”

You clammed up, any words in response died on your tongue.  Sarah, despite her veneer of benign cluelessness, was an expert at cutting straight to the matter.  Did you feel passionate about this wedding? Did you even love Fredrick?  Would you ever love him?

“We’re baaaack!” your mother’s voice smothered your thoughts and doubts as she and the saleslady brought out a dress that quite possibly was even worse looking than the one you were currently wearing.  You gave one last longing glance at the the beautiful dress in the showcase, and allowed yourself to be shepherded back into the dressing room, leaving behind a beaming mother, and a resigned best friend.

*****

The sun was low in the sky as you finally left your mother’s place, after wishing her and your newest step-father a good night.  Sarah gave you a tight hug, with a concerned remark that no matter what you chose, she’d have your back.   You knew that you were hurting her by going through with this, but it would work out in the end, you knew it.

You sat back in your driver's seat, pausing after starting the engine.  It had been a draining day, and all you wanted to do was to have a bath, wrap yourself up in some towels, make yourself and Vergil some food, and just chill.  Despite all the stress from the wedding plans, and the the steep learning curve of taking up the reins of your father’s company, talking with Vergil about anything, and yet nothing at the same time calmed you down immensely.  You always looked forward to those times.

But first, one last errand before you went home.  You told your wireless system to make the call, and as you pulled out of your mother’s driveway, the drone of a dial tone reverberated in the car.  A few rings, and your father’s voice answered.

“Ah, how’s my favourite girl doing?  Did you pick your dream dress out?” he asked cheerfully.

“Yes, mom helped pick it out it’s a-” 

Your dad interrupted you, “Now now, don’t tell me, I just want it to be a surprise!  Just have your mother send me the bill, I’ll work out the payment”  You breathed a sigh of relief, you didn’t really feel like somehow describing the abomination that took the guise of a dress in a somewhat positive light.   

“Listen, sweetheart” your father said, “I’ll be out for a few weeks on business, accompanying your future father-in-law on a trip to check up on Fredrick, and maybe sign some more deals, so no ‘Take Your Daughter to Work Days’ for a while.  You got any concerns or any requests, you’ll have to call me.  Me and Mr. Sombra are on the cusp of a deal that will be mutually beneficial for both our family, and Fredrick’s.”  Another sigh of relief, one less stress point to deal with.  

Suddenly, in the background, you heard a popping sound, which sounded like fireworks, but the rhythm sounded off, it sounded like… Gunshots!?

“Dad!” you barked out worriedly, “Is everything alright?”

Your father’s response was cheerful and reassuring, “Ah it’s alright, I’m at the gun range, Mr. Sombra decided we should get to know each other better with our prospective hobbies while we work on this deal. I think I might be getting the hang of this gun thing, although I’ve gotta resist the urge to close one eye to do so.  Tomorrow, I get to show him the joys of breadmaking!” Your dad sounded as giddy as a schoolgirl to share his passion project, you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I gotta go, your future father-in-law is begging me to try out this new pistol he purchased!”

“Okay, say Hello to Fredrick when you see him!  And have a safe trip!” you chirped, “I love you, dad”

“Love you too, sweetheart, bye!”  As the phone call ended, you began to relax.  Sure, today had been a draining day, but your father’s upbeat energy perked you up.  Perhaps your conversation with Vergil wouldn't be so dour today.  You sensed he had some issue with your father, but you never brought it up, simply because you never wanted to see him as he was when you first met.  You wanted him, if not happy, at least content and untroubled.  You hummed a familiar tune for the rest of the way home, but no matter how hard you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out where you heard it from.

As you pulled into your driveway, the cheerful mood skidded to a halt.  Another, unfamiliar vehicle was parked beside your usual parking space, but nobody was seen.  You tensed up.  You hadn’t expected any guests, and to just get on the property, you had to have a way of getting past the security gate.   

Cautiously, you got out.  It couldn’t possibly be a burglary, what idiot would park in front of your home while looting the place?  But still, you had your fears, not for your property, nor for even yourself.  What about Vergil?  

Your stomach dropped as your front door opened, and out came a slimy slug of a man...Doctor Griffon.   He was practically beaming, whistling a jaunty tune, with a regular sized briefcase in his left hand, and a long narrow briefcase in his right.  To your untrained eye, it looked similar to a gun case, and your blood ran cold.  

The doctor finally noticed you after he locked the door, (how the hell had he gotten a hold of the keys?) and smiled, totally oblivious of what he was doing to your emotions.

“Ah, My dear!  I was not expecting your arrival!  I must say, you’ve done a marvelous job on rehabilitating Angelo.  I was worried it was languishing in captivity, but you’ve managed to bring it’s original colour back, and it’s gained some weight, you must tell me your feeding schedule-”

“Cut the crap, Doctor. How the hell did you get a key?  What the fuck are you doing here? ” you hissed.  

The man deflected your anger as if it was a pesky fly.  “Your father gave me permission and access to your home, to take care of the creature, in case of emergencies, and I deemed it an emergency, since you’ve missed the deadline to deliver your monthly report for the past three days.”

Wait what?

You quickly checked your phone.  Sure enough, the asshole was right, in the hubbub of bridal shows, cake tastings, and now wedding dress try-outs, you had missed the deadline.  It was hard to resist the urge to slap yourself for this stupidity.

“I’m not sure how you managed to wrangle the creature without it’s leash,” he glanced down at the long  briefcase, “But I’m highly impressed you were able to.  I’ll admit I thought you were just faking the measurements…”

“You could have called me, let me know, I could have gotten you the information you so desperately  needed.  Instead of breaking into my place without my damn permission.”

The bastard dangled a ring with a single key on it, in front of you. “Like I said, this was given to me by your father, with permission to-”

You didn’t let him finish as you yanked the key out of his grasp.  “Consider the permission rescinded.” you said curtly.   He attempted to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.  “Talk to my father if you want to contest this, because I’m not letting you set foot on my property again.  Am I making myself clear? Your voice lowered dangerously, your adrenaline pumping through your system, the key clenched so tight in your fist, you could feel the start of it cutting into your palm.  Immediately, your brain went into overdrive, preparing on how to react should Griffon try to take the key back, punch him in the face, or in the gut, or a kick to the groin?

But you needn’t have worried.  The doctor, despite his glares, decided to back off.  No doubt he would attempt to contact your father, but both of you knew who your dad would side with.

“Very well,” he glowered, “but if anything happens to the specimen,” the urge to punch him reached a deafening crescendo, “I will hold you personally responsible.” And with a huff, he shouldered past you, got in his car, and with a slamming of a door, he peeled out, going towards your family’s central warehouse building.

You let out a ragged breath, The next time I see him, I’m going to skewer the bastard, you thought viciously.  The previously relaxed feeling that you had worked so hard to build melted like snow under a blowtorch.  How could you have been so fucking stupid?  You had spent the last decade turning assignments on time for your doctorate, why did you forget now?  All your efforts at gaining Vergil’s trust had just been shattered because of your negligence…

Vergil…

You ran towards the door, clumsily failing to get the key into the hole, and spreading blood from your newly cut hand all over the handle.   It could wait until later, you had to check up on the merman, that was your priority right now.

After a few tries, you got the door unlocked, and you rushed inside, tossing your belongings everywhere in your haste to get to the aquarium.   “Vergil!” you called out, but no response reverberated in your head.  You plastered yourself against the glass, trying desperately to find him.  And after a few moments of panicked searching, you saw him, hidden behind his usual rock where he usually spent time alone.  But now he was unmoving, curled up in a defensive ball, his eyes vacant, staring at nothing at all.  “Vergil!” you yelled, but no response.  What had that asshole done to him?  Did it have something to do with that leash? What if he’s hurt?

Without quite thinking, you clambered onto the platform, and after a moment to gather your breath, you dove in.

The cut on your palm protested at the salt water, but you didn’t care, as you swam to the far rock.  You cautiously approached Vergil, unable to talk to him with your weak human lungs, which already started to burn. Vergil remained staring straight ahead, his eyes transfixed on nothing, unaware of your presence. So, you did the only thing you could, and placed your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.  Come back to me, Vergil.

And then, without warning, both his hands shot out, grabbing your shoulders in a vise tight grip.  In your surprise, you let out the last of your air still in your lungs, the bubbles rising to the surface.  You went to follow, but Vergil wouldn’t let go.  Panic forming, you started struggling, but the merman was as solid as the rock he hid behind, and wouldn’t budge.  And what was worse, the vacant look in his eyes was still there, he had no idea he was drowning you.  For a split second, you thought about trying to hit him, to knock some awareness back into him, but that would make it worse.  So, as you felt your body slowly shutting down, conserving all the oxygen it had for only vital functions, you did the only thing you could think of.

You softly caressed his cheek, hoping the gentle touch might, possibly be the thing he needed to snap him out of his catatonia.  

To your relief, it seemed to work, and his eyes focused on you in confusion.  All you could do was keep your eyes focused on his, as everything besides his face became a dark blur.  Panic filled his face, and you were aware of rushing water, and then the feeling of cool air on your cheeks.  Spluttering and coughing, you gulped up the air, as Vergil gently guided you to the platform and helped you clumsily clamber up onto it.

“Forgive me…” you heard him murmur as you stood on all fours, still attempting to catch your breath. “Had it been a few moments later, I would have....”

“Not your fault, Vergil '' you gasped out, finally able to regulate your breathing, as the pounding of blood in your head slowed down, as the adrenaline stopped flowing.  “This was all me, I should have sent in that report, so ‘he’,” you spat out the word in hatred, so Vergil knew who you were talking about, “wouldn’t have shown up.  But I was so. Fucking. Forgetful. You felt like crying, but you kept it locked inside.  You both didn’t need the additional emotions tonight.

You felt a soft hand placed upon yours, and you looked into his grey eyes, softness replacing the blankness that had been there a few moments ago. “It appears,” he said with a gentle smile, “we are at an impasse to who’s at fault.  Shall we agree that we have both done the other ill?”

“I suppose we could do that,” as you used your hand to brush your soaked hair out of your eyes.  Suddenly Vergil frowned, he gently turned your other hand around, revealing an angry red gash.

“Did I…?” he started to say, but you shushed him.

“No, that was me, when I was confronting the Doctor”  Vergil stiffened at the mention, and you sought to assure him “Vergil, I swear I will never let him near you again, if I have to fucking kill him.”  He looked at you, as if he was searching for sincerity on your face, before nodding in gratitude..  You had never been so serious about something in your life.  Vergil didn’t deserve the treatment you could only guess that he’d been through.  If you could have chucked him into the ocean this very second, you would have.  But despite everything, he still answered ‘no’ to your question of freedom every morning, so you respected his wishes.

“You should get yourself dry,” he said, “you humans tend to get sick when you remain wet for a period of time.”

You got up, wincing at the pain from your palm and you pushed up off of the wood, “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll bring you supper, any requests?”

“Not particularly, anything you wish shall be fine” he answered, his voice unexpectedly soft.  You gave him a reassuring smile, and descended the stairs.

*****

You sat in a warm fluffy pj’s your hair still damp, but otherwise fully dry.  You’d made his favourite for him, ramen, with some slices of leftover pork chop, which he slurped up greedily.  He was still getting the hang of using utensils, but he was doing so much better.  You snacked on a turkey sandwich, not feeling the urge to prepare anything more strenuous than that.  Your hand had stopped bleeding, but still ached, and although it looked bad, with some ointment and some bandages, it would be more annoying than anything.  You pulled up your medical supplies to tend with it, but then heard Vergil’s voice. 

“May I?” and after giving your approval, he gently took your hand, amazed as you spread the cream over the cut.  He frowned, as he watched.  “I thought it would have healed somewhat by now, if not as quickly as us”

“Nah,” you shrugged with your free shoulder as you reached for the wrapping that would keep it protected while you slept. “Although cuts on our hands heal pretty fast compared to other parts of our bodies, we just need to keep it covered so it has a chance to heal.  It’s painful, but it’s not like a wound to the gut or anything.”

You began to wrap your hand, but somehow, Vergil took over, gently winding the cloth around your palm, taking care not to press down on the wound.  The way his fingers softly grazed your knuckles....  You suddenly felt slightly warm at the touch.

“May I ask you a favour?” he asked as you placed the supplies back in the kit.

“Sure”

“Will you sleep here?” he said, tapping the platform.  You paused, and watched to see if he was making a joke, but his face was serious.  “It would put my mind at ease, after all that has transpired today” he requested earnestly.

“Of course” you responded, and relief flooded his face.  “I’ll just have to get some more blankets and such, sleeping on bare wood is rather uncomfortable.”

So, several hours later, you were in a nest of blankets and pillows, lulled by the sound of water, on the cusp of sleep,  when you heard the sound of water sloshing gently, and a cool hand caressing your cheek.  Strangely, it didn’t yank you back into wakefulness, but instead calmed you down even more.

The last thing you heard before sleep truly claimed you was Vergil’s voice, barely a whisper.

“Sleep well, Sifa”

Tagging @harlot-of-oblivion (apologies if I tagged you twice, Tumblr glitched out, and I had to repost.)

[styles-is-the-name]

Just Before You Go - Part Three

this is my first shot at a harry-y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. Harry is a single father of two that hasn’t even looked at another woman in years. For the first time in five years, he finally feels like he’s returning to himself all because he met someone unexpectedly at a grocery store. Even though his kids are determined to help him find love again, will it be possible? (There eventually be smut, but will mostly be fluff.)

TW: suicide, self harm, and others will occur

Word Count: 2,399

“Harry, you do absolutely amazing work!” Your eyes widen slightly as you continue flipping through his books looking at different tattoos he’s done over the years. Each one is beautiful and unique.

“Thank you, love. I’m not like a traditional tattoo artist if you couldn’t tell. I won’t do any tattoo that another artist has done.”

“So if I were to ask for a butterfly, you wouldn’t do it the same way another person did?”

“I would ask you why you want the butterfly and depending on your response, I will find a butterfly that suits your reasoning perfectly.”

“Do you know about the butterfly project?”

“I sure do. Is...is that why you want one?” You look down breathing out shakily and nod nervously. He sits down next to you gently placing his hand over yours. “I’m here for you, Y/N. I know that we just met and you don’t trust me yet, but I am here for you.”

You smile up at him through tears and nod not able to speak fearful that you might start crying. He hands you a tissue and you dab the corners of your eyes trying not to ruin your makeup. The two of you look over at Darcy who is petting her cat lovingly.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at you widely. “She looks exactly like her mother did.”

“She mentioned...you know...what her mother did.” You say softly not sure how to approach the topic. He sighs shakily leaning back on the couch.

“She really struggled with postpartum depression after she had my son. I didn’t realize it was as bad as it actually was. I spent more time with the kids than I did with her. She...she cheated. And when I found out...she killed herself in front of me.”

“Harry...oh my god. I’m so sorry.” He nods awkwardly trying to blink back all the emotion he feels right now. You decide to change the topic to help him out. “So should I bring anything to dinner tomorrow? I can bring dessert.”

“You cook?”

“I do, but I mostly bake.”

“The kids love baking.”

“So maybe...I can bring something over and we can cook and bake together.”

“Like a family.” He smiles lightly at you making your heart flutter.

___________________________

The whole day was so miserable and long for you. You were impatient and you hated it, but you managed to get some of your job applications sent out. Hopefully you’ll be hearing back from schools within the next few days. One of the only good things about who your father is is that he sends you money every week. That’s how you’ve been surviving.

Around three, you decide to call your best friend, Louis. He’s always good to talk to in a crisis or a fashion emergency and in your case, it’s the latter.

“Y/N!”

“Louis!”

“What’s up, babe?”

“Okay so. There’s a lot I have to catch you up on.”

“Is there a guy?”

“How did you know?”

“I haven’t seen you this happy since-“

“Don’t even say his name. I swear to god I will fly to New York and rip out your vocal chords.”

“Okay! Okay! Calm down. But anyway. Spill the tea!”

“Well I was at the grocery store yesterday and I met this man.”

“Name? Age? Nationality? Religion? Race? Relationship status? Criminal record?”

“Louis! Oh my god. His name is Harry Styles.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing. Imagine him so deep inside of you that you start scream-“

“OKAY! Okay! Enough!”

“Continue.”

“He’s a tattoo artist.”

“Seriously? Dude that’s so cool! Maybe I should make a trip out there.”

“Oh my god he’s amazing, Lou. He showed me some of his past tattoos and they’re all amazing.”

“You’ll have to send me pics.”

“I will the next time I’m at his shop.”

“You went to his shop?”

“Just shut up and let me talk!”

“Okay bossy.” You roll your eyes giggling.

“Well he has a British accent.”

“That’s your weakness!”

“I know! He’s a single father.”

“How many kids and how old?”

“Two. Darcy is nine and she's the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met. I haven’t met Carter yet, but he’s six and adorable.”

“And their mom? You don’t need a crazy ex around.”

“She’s not in the picture.”

“Seriously? She had two kids then just left?”

“Lou, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Well, tell me!”

“She killed herself.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know. But Darcy is really trying to get us together and guess what.”

“What?”

“Every Tuesday they have taco Tuesday. And they invited me tonight.”

“Yasss! My girl is gonna get some dick tonight!”

“Louis! Oh my god. Why did I even bother calling you.”

“Because you probably need help picking out an outfit.”

“Yeah I do. I don’t wanna be too dressy, but I don’t wanna be too casual either.”

“You know that yellow, flowy top we bought before you left?”

“The one that has ruffled sleeves and goes down to my thighs?”

“Yeah that. Wear that with leggings and sandals.”

“And my hair?”

“Braid it to the side and natural makeup.”

“Thanks, Lou. I owe you. I gotta go though so I can be there on time. We’re cooking together.”

“Awwww! You’re a little family already!”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Love youuuuu!”

“Yeah yeah.” You hang up giggling then rush to get ready.

_______________________

“But daddy! It’s not fair! Why did Darcy get to meet her and not me?!”

“Bubba, I already explained this to you. Darcy was at the store with me, but you get to meet her tonight. She’s coming over for dinner.”

“But I wanted to find you a girlfriend!” Harry blushes bright red. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to have you called his girlfriend (if it weren’t too soon, he probably would ask you to be his girlfriend himself), but having your kids talk about it is just a little weird.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Carter.”

“YET!” Darcy looks at Carter smirking.

“Jinx! Knock on wood. You owe me a soda!”

“Daddy.” Carter whines looking up to Harry.

“I need you both to be on your absolute best behavior tonight okay?”

“Okay daddy.”

“Yes daddy.” Carter leans closer to Darcy. “Is she pretty?” Darcy giggles and nods. Harry rolls his eyes sighing.

“She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful. But we just met, guys. Nothing serious is going to come from a din-“

The two are running towards the door before Harry can even finish. Darcy opens the door right as you were reaching to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N!” She hugs you tightly catching you off guard. You hug back smiling lightly and wave to Carter.”

“Hi guys!” Harry walks over wanting to just melt into the floor seeing how embarrassing his kids are being.

“Guys, let her in! Let her in.” Darcy let’s go of you and let’s you walk inside.

“Woah.” You look around at the beautiful interior. “It's beautiful in here!”

“Daddy said you’re beautiful too!”

“Carter!” Darcy nudges him with her elbow.

“What?! He did!” Harry squeezes his fists biting his lip nervously.

“Well, your daddy is very handsome.”

Harry can’t help, but smile. He feels like he’s in high school again. He just met you yesterday and his heart is already racing when you compliment him. The only difference is that he is twenty-six almost twenty-seven and he knows it’s not just some school girl crush. It’s more than that. He hasn’t felt like this in nearly five years and to say that it’s terrifying doesn’t even come close to how he feels.

“Darcy, you were right! She is really pretty.”

“I know!” The two giggle running into the living room. Harry looks up to you blushing deeply feeling bad.

“I’m so sorry. I told them to behave. Looks like they decided not to listen.” You giggle.

“It’s okay, Harry. I wasn’t sure what to bring for dessert so I just brought stuff to make homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

“From scratch?”

“The best way to make them!” He leads you into his kitchen talking over his shoulder to you.

“My mum used to bake cookies from scratch and she would have them ready for when I got home from school. I tried to figure out how to make them the way she does, but I never could figure it out.”

“The secret ingredient is sour cream. Sounds disgusting, but it just makes the cookie more moist. Also, milk instead of water.”

“I knew the milk, but not sour cream. God I worked in a bakery as a teenager. I should know these things!”

“Awww little Harry in an apron!” You hold your heart jutting out your bottom lip. You see his gaze move down to your lips and your knees just about give out on you.

“Just be thankful my mum isn’t here. She’d be showing you all sorts of baby pictures.”

“We should have invited her then! I’d love to see those chubby baby cheeks. I love babies.”

“What’s your favorite age to teach?”

“Probably both elementary and high school.”

“Not middle school?”

“Oh hell no. Those brats are so rude it’s not even funny. And they’re too hormonal.”

“I would’ve thought that high schoolers are more hormonal.” You sit down on the counter popping a cherry into your mouth while watching him roll his sleeves up. Your mouth waters but you can’t tell if it’s from the cherry or his tattoos.

“That’s what you’d think, but they have the majority of their hormones in check. I mean think about it. Most girls start their periods in six grade. That’s around the time that guys started yanking off to socks.” His laugh sounds like music to your ears. You’d do anything to hear that again.

“True. I love how you put it like that.”

“I mean it’s true! I’ve heard most guys prefer socks over the male dildo vagina things.”

“What guys have you been talking to?!”

“My brothers and my best friend.” You shrug amused by the conversation.

“Well I just prefer my hand.”

“But doesn’t that make a mess?”

“If you aim right it shouldn’t.”

“Oh my god. I’d struggle if I were a guy for a day.”

“How so?”

“My aim sucks. I wouldn’t be able to even pee.” He throws his head back laughing.

“Well if I were a woman for a day, I wouldn’t be able to leave my bedroom.”

“Why? Too busy fingering yourself?” You giggle rolling your eyes.

“Eh. I’m more of a tits guy.” Just the way he said that makes you feel light headed. You know you need to change the subject before you have to go to the bathroom.

“Oh whatever. Anyway. Tell me about yourself, Harry.”

“What do you wanna know, love?”

“Anything and everything.” Harry hands you a pan and the package of meat. You pop another cherry into your mouth before hopping off of the counter and turning the burner on.

“Well, I was raised in Holmes Chapel.”

“Isn’t that just a few hours outside of London?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty small town, but it’s lovely.”

“Why’d you move here?”

“For uni. Three of my lads and I moved here. We got an apartment and went to uni together.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“Well Niall owns his own club. Zayn is a model. And Liam is about to graduate med school.”

“Oh wow. That’s a big variety.”

“I know, but I know who to go to for free drinks and surgery if needed.” You laugh while pouring the meat into the pan. This isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. It’s actually pretty fun.

“Where did you go to college?”

“We went to NYU but Liam is at Chapel Hill for med school.”

“I went to NYU!”

“No way! Class of 2012.”

“Class of 2014!”

“We probably saw each other around campus then. You were a sophomore when I was a senior.”

“I actually went to your graduation. My best friend Louis was graduating.”

“Louis? As in Tomlinson?”

“Oh my god. You know him?!”

“Yeah. We were pretty good friends. We lost contact a couple years after graduation sadly.”

“Maybe you should reconnect.”

“I would love to, but I don’t even know how to get in contact with him.”

“Here. I’ll FaceTime him.” You walk over to him touching the small of his back while FaceTiming him.

“Wha-“

“Y/N? Oh my god! Harry! I was wondering if you were him!”

“Lou! Hey man!”

“How’s life?!”

“It’s great! You?”

“Wonderful. I’m actually thinking about proposing to El.”

“Oh my god. That’s awesome!” You give him the phone giggling. It warms your heart hearing the two of them get along. They’re the two most important guys in your life right now. And you have a feeling that Carter will probably be the third.

You walk into the living room and see the kids watching tv. You lay down dramatically with your head in Darcy’s lap and your feet in Carter's.

“Hey! Your feet are smelly!”

“Hey!” You pout sitting up. He giggles and jumps into your arms making you groan.

“Just because your feet are smelly doesn’t mean I don’t want cuddles.” You laugh holding him close.

“Alright. What are you guys watching?” Darcy pauses the tv looking at you.

“There’s nothing really to watch.”

“Do you have Disney plus?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to watch.”

“Have you heard of Wizards of Waverly Place?” They both shake their head no making you grin. “When my brothers and I were growing up, we would watch it all the time. It’s about two mortals that have three kids that are witches.”

“What are mortals?” Carter looks up to you confused.

“Mortals are people like us. We don’t have any powers.”

“I’m not a mortal! Daddy says I’m Superman!” You laugh pinching his cheek.

“You sure are Superman!”

“Can we watch it, Y/N?”

“Of course. Selena Gomez is one of the lead characters.” Darcy gasps pressing play immediately. She moves closer to you cuddling into your side.

Your heart has never felt this full before. Sure you’ve had cuddles from some of your kids, but you’ve never done this before. Carter rests his head on your chest sucking his thumb. You close your eyes just soaking in the moment.

Nothing could make this any better.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #285

"do you have the time to listen to me whine about nothing and everything all at once?”

What does your car smell like? You assume I have a car. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? ^ Have you ever met someone in person who you first met on the internet? Do you have plans to do that anytime soon? Yes, Sara. I want to visit her again, but right now I have no clue when that will happen. I have another friend that wants me to shoot her wedding that was planned for this year, but it was delayed to an unknown date, so. What was the last thing you used a blender for? A margarita. Have you ever got into an argument with a stranger on social media? Do you remember what it was about? Yep. There's been a couple. Has COVID had any impact on your Christmas plans this year? What’s going to change or be different to normal? Yes. Mom and I aren't coming while Ashley's inlaws are there at her house, and then I think we're going to my other sister's since she wants to cook? I've only really overheard Mom over the phone, I'm not 100%. I'm just. Going with it. What’s your favourite flavor of cake? Are you any good at making that kind of cake? Probably red velvet, or just double chocolate. I dunno. I love cake. I don't cook, though. Are you currently under any COVID-related restrictions where you live? Are people generally following the rules? Well, you're SUPPOSED to wear a fucking mask, but "it's a hoax" and "you can't make me" fuckheads don't listen, and it's poorly-enforced. You see people without them all the time. Do you still watch cartoons? I'm not opposed, I just don't watch television. Is anyone else in the same room as you right now? What is that person up to? No. Do you use Pinterest? Ha, I get most of my (unedited) avatars from there. It also gives me some pose ideas for photography. Are you wearing earrings? Ugh, no. I absolutely hate how the first holes stretched from heavy earrings. I need to get a proper tapering set if I want to actually use gauges (mind you, very small) so they look even semi-good again. I don't wear any in the second/upper holes because I think it just looks weird with nothing in the first. Do you know any sign language? Not anymore. In elementary school, we did do a play however where in one of the songs, we signed the lyrics. I remember zero. Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. Which breed of dog do you find most scary? None. Ever been to a pottery class? Not particularly, no. I've made pottery in normal art classes multiple times, though. When you were young, did you ever pretend to “marry” somebody? I have no idea. I don't have a specific memory. Don’t you just find it annoying when people get too much plastic surgery? Oh, fuck off. Is it your body? Is it there to boost YOUR confidence? Then your opinion doesn't fuckin matter. Are you the type who usually plays it safe? Yep. Who do you think about most? It's certainly not willingly, but Jason. PTSD kinda engraved his presence in my brain. How’s your grandmother? Both are dead. What’s your favourite type of cloud? Big, tall, and poofy cumulonimbus ones. Do you have a birthmark? Where? Does it look like anything? Yeah, a slightly darker brown blotch on the side of my right forearm, near the elbow. If you were blind for the rest of your life… what would you miss seeing the most? Probably people smiling. My nieces' and nephew's came to mind first. What is your most disappointing moment in life? I've been living it for years now. I'm not who I wanted or thought I would be at all. What is the best reward anyone can give you? Validation lmao. What is your favorite animal? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Meerkats, always. God, I can barely boil it down to three words. Loyal, complex, and brave will have to do. What is your favorite color? List three adjectives to explain your choice. Pink. Soft, pretty, gentle. What do you consider to be the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now? As a child, my big plastic crocodile named Marlin (yes, after the Finding Nemo character) that was the "main character" in my games of make-believe. As a teen, probably Rebel, the stuffed meerkat Jason gave me. Now, it's absolutely the pebble I got upon "graduation" from my partial hospitalization program. What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done? I'm not sure; I've seen a good deal. Thinking of only the ones I've seen in-person, uhhhh... wait. A couple days before my overdose, in desperation, I called Jason's house in the middle of the night wanting to talk to him. His mom answered, and she talked to me for hours with such patience and kindness to try and calm me down. I miss her a lot. Is Frozen one of your favorite Disney movies? No, I never really liked it. If you were an explorer, would you rather explore the Arctic Circle, Antarctica, or Alaska? Ohhh, Alaska. It's gorgeous and at least not absolutely frigid everywhere. How many blankets do you sleep with in the winter? I usually just have my usual thick comforter, but if I'm seriously cold, I'll grab another smaller one to wrap myself in underneath the big one. Do you know of anyone who was in labor or gave birth to a baby during a major snowstorm? HAHA my mama w/ me. Do you enjoy eggnog during the winter - with or without alcohol? EW. Do you dress any of your pets in seasonal/holiday apparel? No; I really dislike the concept of dressing your animals unless it's truly for their own benefit/warmth. Who was the last person to give you a gift? What was the reason for it? Uhhhhh. I have no idea. Are you a good cook? If so, who taught you? What’s your favourite thing to cook? NOOOOOOO. When was the last time something in your house broke? Did you manage to fix it or did you need to buy a replacement? Ugh, my laptop is fucked up. It's either the charger port, charger itself, or Mom thinks perhaps the battery. Her friend's husband is gonna look at it after Christmas. Is any part of your body hurting right now? What caused that pain? For once my legs aren't hurting. They almost always do from either muscle atrophy or them having been still for too long. The last time you made a sandwich, what did you put in there? It was just a normal 'ole peanut butter sandwich. What’s your favorite time of day? What’s your favorite thing to do at that time? First thing in the morning, because it feels like a new start. I like watching the sky change from pinkish to blue while I'm just sitting in bed checking everything. Where did you go the last time you left your house? I rode with Mom to her doctor's appointment. I didn't go in w/ her for obvious reasons, I just wanted to go on a ride and listen to music. If you eat steak, how do you like it cooked? What sauces or sides do you like to go with it? It has to be medium well. Idk what sauces are cooked into it that I like, because I don't make it. I like fries with steak, and probably Sara's mom's mashed potatoes would go well, haha. Do you prefer sweet or savory pancakes? What toppings do you have on them? I can't imagine me liking savory pancakes... I just like the usual: butter (not mandatory tho) and syrup. Are you someone who cracks their joints a lot? Which one(s) do you tend to crack and click the most? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO, I HATE THE NOISE SO MUCH. My lower spine pops a lot, though. Some fingers occasionally, too. Have you ever taken medication or tablets to help you sleep? Is this something you do on a regular basis? Yeah, I was taking Melatonin to fight insomnia for quite a while. I only stopped it because my mom was theorizing that it may have been making my nightmares worse, because her dad had AWFUL nightmares on it. I don't know if it did or didn't foor me, honestly. For you, what’s the worst thing about getting up in the morning? What about the worst thing about going to bed tonight? Knowing in the back of my mind that despite my hope, today's going to be the same as yesterday. I dread most nights the process of lying down and actually falling asleep, because it can take hours. Do you prefer regular or diet soft drinks? Not only do I think diet sodas taste bad, but the artificial sweetener gives me awful headaches, anyway. What do you tend to wear if you’re just hanging about the house for the day? I'm only always in my pjs. When was the last time you dyed your hair? Did you do it yourself or get it done at a hairdresser? Ugh... it's been a very, very long time. It was done by a hairdresser, but per usual, the color didn't stick well. I am DYING to bleach my hair so I can dye it pastel pink, light silver, or like a creamsicle orange. I edited some pictures of myself to "try" these colors on, and omg I loved them all. Does having to wear a mask stop you doing things? Is this because you struggle wearing one or you just don’t like it? Not really, no. I barely go anywhere at all though, so I have Have you ever witnessed a car accident? Or have you perhaps been involved in one yourself? Were you at fault? Yes; yes; no. How many books do you read in a year? Do you enjoy reading or do you have to really force yourself to sit down and read? VERY few. I've only just gotten back into semi-regularly reading since Sara got me into Wings of Fire. I have one friend though that is an INCREDIBLE bookworm; she keeps track of how many books she's read in a year, and she's already beyond one a day. It's incredible. If you have pets, where did they come from? A breeder, a rescue or maybe a friend who bred their pet? Roman came from Ashley's inlaws'. They have like an infestation of cats needing to be spayed, so they didn't at all mind letting me have one because I'd been wanting a cat for a long time. I love my baby boy so much. Venus came from The Gourmet Rodent, a snake breeding (and F/T rat provider, as the name suggests) business from Florida. I highly recommend them. Their customer service was fantastic when I was worried about Venus not eating. They even checked up with me a few months following my emails to ensure she was doing well. Have you ever seen an episode of My 600lb Life? No. I absolutely NEVER could. As an obese person who's been fighting her fucking ass off to lose weight for years, I don't want to be further depressed. Do you feel bad when someone asks you to hang out and you say no? Oh yes I do. Ngl, if I don't want to hang for whatever reason, I'm the kind that makes up an excuse to not seem *as* "rude" (quotations bc it's technically not rude at all, anxiety just tells me it is). When was the last time you turned down plans with someone? What did you decide to do instead? Ummmm I'm not sure. Have you ever had any “unusual” or exotic pets? If you could own any animal, what would it be and why? Do you consider iguanas or Chinese water dragons as "exotic/unusual?" Nothing stranger than that, really. I would never, ever own a truly exotic animal that wouldn't do well in captivity. I do however pretty desperately want to rescue an opposum one day, though. I positively adore them; they're my second-favorite animal. How often do you wash your hair? I don't even have a regular schedule for that anymore, honestly... I have to every time I shower because my hair gets oily FAST, but I try to put off showers as long as I can handle now because of how bad my selfcare has been for multiple reasons... What have you found the hardest about the current pandemic? Not seeing an end in sight because people are fucking dumb. Shit's not going to get better unless things drastically change. And what about the easiest? Has anything improved in your life because of what’s happened? Certainly nothing has improved. Not much has changed for me, considering I barely ever left the house to begin with. If you have multiple pets, do they get along with each other? Are they related or even the same species? They ignore each other, really. Surprisingly, even. Roman will sit on my bed and watch Venus slither about occasionally if she's out, even meerkat pose haha, and playful as he is, it's unexpected that he *does* mostly ignore her. What was the last meal you ate? Did you have anything good? Breakfast; I had Special K cereal. I've finally started to get back on track with eating okay. Do you live somewhere where strangers say hi to you in the street? Would you like to live somewhere like that? Where we live now, if you pass someone outside in the car, it's normal and really expected to give a little wave. That's very normal here in the South though, really; you don't just have to be in your own neighborhood. Have you ever tried any of those meal replacement shakes? The chocolate Equate ones are normal in my diet, actually. They're really not bad at all and played a big role in me losing ~60lbs before. Funnily enough, I haven't found a popular name brand I like, though. Cheap stuff isn't always bad. Do you make up silly nicknames for your pets or family members? "Silly" ones, not really, besides Roman. I call him "weirdo" and "crazy" a lot, but nothing truly unique. What’s your favorite thing to take photographs of? Are you actually any good at photography? Nature or boudoir (only shot it once, but I love it and the confidence it gives people). Being as modest as possible, I honestly do think I'm pretty good at it. Do you have anything interesting planned for the rest of the day? How about for tomorrow or the weekend? I haven't had anything interesting planned in eons, it seems like. Are you going to take the vaccine for COVID once it becomes available? Once it proves to be reliable and safe, hell yes. I'm doing my goddamn part in ending this shit. How much housework have you done lately? Is this more or less than usual? A bit more than usual since I haven't finished decorating my room since moving... I've been doing it very slowly and gradually. I need to just finish it already, I'm just so unmotivated. What gifts are you hoping to get for your next birthday (or Christmas, whichever one is coming up next)? I'm fucking dying to get my tat redone/improved. Been waiting since LAST Christmas when I didn't get to use my own gifted money. Do you suffer from any form of motion sickness? No. Do you contribute regularly to any Facebook groups at all? "I’m a member of plenty, but hardly ever post." <<<< Same. I react to posts a lot, though. Just don't really make my own. When was the last time you weighed yourself? Were you happy with the numbers you saw? Ugh... when I went to the doctor I think last week. I knew it'd be bad, but the verification fucking sucked. Since moving, I've gained ~30lbs. Have you got any chronic health issues? What do you do to try and manage them as best you can? YIKES I am a CATASTROPHE. I've got a dictionary of mental health issues that I'm not gonna go through individually, but I deal with them via prescription medications and therapy and sheer will. Who taught you how to drive? My driver's ed teacher. It was mandatory in HS. What was your high school mascot? A firebird. Did you go to your senior prom? Yes. What did you do after graduation? I very briefly went to a community college. What was your first job? GameStop sales associate. If my social anxiety wasn't fucking shit, I probably would have liked it. What did you want to be when you grew up? Somewhat in order: paleontologist, vet, movie director, game designer, animal biologist, video editor (VERY brief), and photographer. Writer, poet, and artist were always something I wanted to do in my free time OR full time if I was lucky. Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? I've never tried beer and don't want to. It smells fucking awful, and because my dad is a recovered alcoholic who was addicted to that in specific, I just want nothing to do with it. Did you ever try cigarettes? No. I have absolutely never understood the appeal, but with a very addictive personality and wild anxiety, I never wanted to risk it, anyway. How did you spend your summers growing up? LOADS of swimming in the pool, jumping on the trampoline, and just playing outside in general. If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? I'd absolutely change how I found happiness only in Jason. Do you remember your first time? No, because at that time, I didn't really realize it was sex. I know that sounds weird, like "how would you not know?", but just trust me. I don't feel like retrospecting on it. I do remember our first *kiss*-kiss, though. How much did you make per hour at your first job? I don't recall. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? I looooved spaghetti. Favorite place to eat out growing up? McDonald's, duh, lol. Did your parents live in a different country before you were born? No. They were from different states, though. Do you have a preferred coffee brand? Don't like coffee. Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money? No. How often do you paint your nails? Never. Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader? Not that I know of. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? I don't pay taxes because I'm unemployed. What is something you don't have any natural talent for? Speaking. At all. What is something you frequently forget? "Numbers." <<<< BIG fat same. How do you feel about your body? How much I hate it is on my mind literally every waking moment of my life to some degree. Who is someone you would like to get to know better? So I have this Facebook friend Courtlynn who seems very similar to me, and I'd love to get to know her better. We interact via posts here and there, but have never seriously talked. What's your opinion on assisted suicide? I am very much for it when a person is in serious pain and recovery is not possible. Like one of my greatest nightmares is being paralyzed from the neck down, and I stg I would spite whichever fucker had jurisdiction over me living. That would be absolute torture for me. At what point do you consider a relationship to be "long-term?" A year, so long as you were consistently together. Stable. What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up? My dad's been a mailman my entire life, and he had a second job at Lowe's for a while as a carpenter. He hated it. Mom worked with computer data at the hospital when I was very young, and then she was an assitant and special needs teacher for a long time. Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired? ^ about Dad. It's his only job now. Mom is currently on disability. Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan? Would you believe me if I said I'm unsure? Haha. I use a Tracfone, and my mom takes care of whatever plan comes with that, so idk. Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? Mom, absolutely. I'm unsure about Dad. I mean he wouldn't *seriously* care so long as they were good to me, but I think he might still be kinda racist. Or he just jokes about it a lot (which should not be joked about, btw). Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? "No way lol. I’m very much of a loner and want to be “prepared” to spend time with people." <<<< Absolutely this. How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? I love her very, very much. What was the last thing someone else bought for you? Food, I'm sure. Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? I haven't seen a picture of her in years, so I have no idea. I remember she was beautiful, though. Is music a daily part of your life? Not daily, no. Some days I only watch YT videos instead of listen to music. What do you think of country music? Not a fan at all. It's ironic considering it was my favorite genre as a little kid. There's the occasional country song I like (mostly ones from my childhood, though), but those are few and far between. Tim McGraw, now, I love. Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yeah, even though I didn't want to. I didn't care enough about the actual ceremony. Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? That would be the woman I took family pictures for. She's married and we barely know each other, so I can assure you she doesn't. When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? On the very rare occasion I wore makeup, yes. Eyeliner, usually eyeshadow, mascara, and most rarely, black lipstick. Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? Yes. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Mom, I think. Do you like where you are in life right now? HA. Is your mom overbearing? No.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Partner search!

Hello all! I’m looking for a skilled, experienced 1x1 partner or two for a Discord roleplay. I have a few particular plots, though please feel free to come with your own ideas. Please read to the end as there is a password I won't answer messages without.

•General/Writing Style•

I usually prefer sticking at around 4 paragraphs and up, but quality over quantity for the most part. If you usually write 3 paragraphs or less, it'll be hard for me to stay interested, however. I would prefer you write in 3rd person, past tense. Please have decent grammar and spelling, varied vocabulary and sentence structure, as well as decent syntax. Please provide me something of substance to respond to in your responses. Please also be somewhat experienced.

•Age•

18+ only, but 21+ preferred (I'm 23)

•Timezone•

Mine is EST. I do not mind what timezone you're in.

•Response Frequency•

I'd prefer if you could respond at least once a week. I'm a pretty busy student can't definitely commit to much more than that, so I won't ask that of you. Please try to communicate when you will be gone or significantly less active for several weeks or more. I will try to do the same.I'm a bit less lenient with this when we're still doing introductions, so if we've barely said hello but a few days pass and I hear nothing, I'll assume you're no longer interested or never were in the first place and close our discussion. You are free to assume the same of me.

•Genre•

I'm a sucker for Romantic Slice-of-life with a healthy dose of drama and angst, but I do like to weave other genres in there too such as Supernatural, Mystery, Action, and Adventure. I'm really open to most things if the plot interests me.

•Gender and Romantic Preference•

I strongly prefer playing a female main outside of MxM. Beyond that, I am open to MxF, FxF, and MxM . Currently, I'm mostly in the mood for an MxF or possibly F//. My apologies, but please note I do not play male in MxF unless we have roleplayed other pairings together before and have highly compatible writing styles. I rarely double up.I do not engage in dichotomy personality dynamics(ie- dom/sub, ABO, top/bottom) and like pairings to be close to even as possible in contributions to the relationship. If a scene gets intimate, I'd prefer we fade to black.

•Plots/Creativity•

The plots I’m looking to do atm are listed below. Despite this, you're more than welcome to share plots of your own. I'd prefer it if you are open to brainstorming plot points and bouncing ideas off each other too- let's keep this interesting for both of us so it stays alive.

•OCs•

I would prefer not to roleplay with OCs that are excessively shy, Mary-Sues, or OP. Additionally, please ensure your own OC does not monopolize the plot with their own issues and background. Let's share the spotlight.I tend to play multiple characters and would prefer if you did too.Please do not control my main OC or any named side characters I introduce. It can really mess with my plans with them if you suddenly auto-kill out of nowhere or something... If necessary, I may permit you to control a side character of mine, but please run it by me first. Communication is key.

•Platform•

Discord is strongly preferred. I can potentially be convinced to use kik, tumblr, or line.

•Fandoms•

I am willing to roleplay within the universe of several fandoms, but please note I do not roleplay as canon characters and would prefer not to roleplay with canon characters either. Please recall that I am more than happy to do original plots too if you aren't into any of these.-Corpse Party**-Black Mirror-Death Note-Avatar The Last Airbender*-Downton Abbey-Call The Midwife*-Dragon Quest(IV-IX)***-Miraculous Ladybug****(I'd love to delve into the more subtle, darker elements like the consequences of a broken miraculous and time travel)-Fruits Basket**-Soul Eater*-The Hunger Games-Harry Potter(The number of * indicates craving)

•Original Plots•

(Muse I would like to play is bolded. If neither are bolded, I can do either. All of these are open to brainstorming and tweaking!)

Muse A was born into a society where ‘falling in love’ is not a thing. Sure, it’s written in about fairy tales and even history texts, but most Readers laugh it off as a silly, archaic concept. All couples are formed by reading Cerebral wavelengths, stats that are unique to every individual. Every person has a single match and are paired with that person permanently when they come of age. No trades, no take-backs. Muse B, though born into the regular world, doesn’t believe in love either. Perhaps it was the plight of their parents, or that one nasty breakup. Perhaps it was the sight of all the couples around who’d be lovey-dovey one week, but strangers the next. Whatever it is, they don’t buy it. That suits Muse A just fine- their Cerebral wavelengths not only don’t match, they bang together in a cacophony. Why is it then that these two begin experiencing an undeniable pull to each other?

One night, Muse A is taking their usual jog through the park when they trip right over Muse B tying their shoe. Cliche start is cliche, I know, but stay with me here. After some initial awkwardness, the two hit it off quite well. Flash forward a week or so and the pair are starting school in the same class, Muse A as one of the typical debutants, and Muse B a lucky upstart on a basketball scholarship. Muse B had high hopes for where things’ll go…only to find out Muse A has a boyfriend, who happens to be Muse B’s nemesis on the courts. Whoops. But something’s really off with the couple. As in the boy is downright awful, and it isn’t just the rivalry talking. Yet Muse A refuses to leave him…why is that?

(This is an older one of mine, but I’ve recently kinda been in the mood to start it up again.) Marianoh’s Culinary Institute is the most renowned school for culinary arts in the country. Any who truly wish to be a master chef would be foolish not to attend. Unless they don’t have the means- the tuition is insanely high. Muse A is part of the lucky few of humble beginnings that has been selected to attend via scholarship. They couldn’t be more excited. Muse B, on the other hand, comes from a family of celebrity chefs. Their spot at Marianoh’s was confirmed before birth. Yet, somehow, they don’t share Muse A’s joy. Far from it, actually. What happens when the two are partnered up for the year?

(A brand new one definitely open to suggestions) St. Cornelius’ Academy(or University) is an academic institution reserved only for those of royal or noble background as well as their future servants, attendants, and body guards. Students of the academy hail from kingdoms where individuals are born gifted with control over the 8 elements- light, wind, flame, flora, lightening(tech), water, earth, and darkness. Students are divided based on status into ‘Golds,’ ‘Greys,’ and ‘ The ‘Gold’ category includes all royalty and nobility aside from viscounts and barons of low birth. The ‘Gray’ category includes future ladies and men in waiting, other servants, attendants, and body guards. Students are instructed in all areas in order to best prepare them for their future roles from political science to etiquette to combat. Given the wealth of a portion of the student body, the campus is a vivacious display of luxury, featuring lavish gardens, seemingly endless grounds, state-of-the-art learning facilities, and even an expansive kitchen headed by a world renowned 31 star chef. Currently, I have three potential pairings in mind for this set-up.

-Muse A is a new lady in waiting assigned to a spoilt, catty Duchess of Aquaria(Water Kingdom). Catering to the every whim of the young princess-to-be is exhausting, but her goal of reaching far greater heights than her questionable background merits keeps her going. What faster way to do that than catching the eye of Muse B, the princess’ bethrothed and crown Prince of Aquaria using abilities bequeathed to her by her merpeople ancestry? The lines between acting and reality are prone to blurring, however and actual feelings soon begin to muddle her plans. Muse B isn’t as unaware as he first seems either..

-Muse A is the somewhat naive prince of Angion(Flora), unsure of his future. He’s distant from his fiancée, Muse B a cold, proud Marchioness of the same kingdom, and his closest confident is one of his newest body guards, Muse C. Little does he know, that Muse C has quite the secret- she’s truly a girl whose taken on her brothers identity to serve. What will happen when all comes into the open?

5. Muse A has always been at the top of their class since early elementary and thrived on it. They come from a family of high achievers where failure is neither seen nor accepted. Proud and arrogant over their achievements, their grades make them, them. All that changed when Muse B showed up, smashing the entrance exams with marks unheard of. Of course Muse A wouldn’t take that lying down, thus, the classic rivalry begins. What happens when the two find they have more in common than they thought? Life on Muse B’s side is not all it seems as well.

Contact Instructions: Please message me here on tumblr  (https://lisanimelis.tumblr.com/) with your favorite color and a writing sample. If all goes well there, we'll move to discord. 

[ptersparkers]

first of all i LOVE the album request idea!!! can i request 3 from melodrama with peter!!

i am in loveeeeeeee with peter benjamin parker!!!! also i’m pretending far from home never happened

#3: “don’t know you super well but i think that you might be the same as me.”

warnings: ffh spoilers!

the album challenge

***

After Liz had left for Oregon due to her father being his arch nemesis, Peter felt like his luck turned for the worse. Girls still didn’t talk to him unless they asked for academic favors and he didn’t have the courage to talk to anyone. That, and he was still recovering from his heartbreak and the confusion over the complicated situated he just escaped.

Peter had seen you around but never had any real interest in getting to know you. You felt the exact same way about him and neither of you spent much time thinking about one another. After having gone to school with each other since the sixth grade, and you having gravitated towards the “popular” crowd (ending up as one of Liz’s friends as a freshman), Peter didn’t have to think twice about assuming you wouldn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t think much about it either, considering you just wanted to make friends.

The popular crowd, in Midtown, wasn’t quite like the movies. None of you were cheerleads, dated football players, and you all joined various extra curriculars that ranged from being on the academic decathlon to being a swimmer and basketball player. How your group became “popular” was a bit of a mystery to you, but you were just happy that your main group of friends were kind, despite the age difference.

While you loved them like family, you often associated with different groups due to multiple extra curriculars, and you genuinely wanted to be friends with quite a few people. Peter never really crossed your radar because you weren’t on the academic decathalon and you weren’t in the film club he and Ned actively participated in. You were a swimmer and tennis player, along with being president of the creative writing club and occasionally dropping by chemistry club. Anyone who knew you knew that your two real loves were science and writing.

If anyone were to ask what you wanted to do when you grew up, your answer would always be a screenwriter. Your youth was spent quoting your favorite films and writing plays, often performing them in front of your parents. Your elementary days were spent in theatre classes and after school always looked like rehearsals, but you dreamed of being the one to write a script that turns into a film. The creative writing club was your ticket to expressing your true dream without being chastised.

So when Peter visited the club on the third Friday of the month (optional sharing day), he was more than surprised to see you standing in front of the club.

“Okay, guys! Thanks to all who came back and hello to all of those who are new. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, President of the club.”

Everybody else introduced themsleves, but Peter couldn’t care less. Truth be told, he thought you were quite pretty in middle school but didn’t think twice about you once Liz, and subsequently her friends, absorbed you into their “popular” group. There was just no way you’d ever talk to him.

“Before we get started, can I have the two new members introduce themsleves? It’s okay if you’re just dropping in today.”

“I’m Ned Leeds!” he said enthusiastically.

“Peter Parker,” he said awkwardly.

“We’re visiting from film club and we hope to get some inspiration for a new project.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” you said with a smile. Peter thought his heart had actually melted. “Today’s our day to share and I’m opening the floor to anyone who wants to talk. It doesn’t matter what you talk about; whether you’re reading a poem or talking about a concept, everything’s welcome!”

“She got really pretty,” Ned said, nudging Peter.

“Maybe,” he said, not paying attention to what Ned was saying. Ned chuckled and returned back to his seat.

The pair listened to everyone talk and jotted down ideas and who to talk to in order to make their project successful. Peter, however, didn’t realize you’d be sharing a story of yours.

“Okay, as you know, I’m obsessed with Spider-Man.”

The room laughed knowingly and Peter’s cheeks turned red.

“Well, I’ve been working on this concept for a while and the it’s very long and extremely unedited, which is why I only brought two copies.” You passed around two big piles of paper. “Anyway, the premise surrounds Spidey goes to Europe and tries to have a fun, normal school trip while trying to get closer to the girl he likes. Only, he’s recruited by Nick Fury for a secret mission and he doesn’t want anything to do with it.”

“You and Spider-Man,” your friend teased. Your cheeks turned red.

“Oh, shut up, Marley. Anyway, he meets an ally, called ‘Mysterio,’ and views him as a father figure after, you know.”

Nobody needed a hint about what you were talking about.

“So, he receives a gift that Tony left him and has controls to another A.I. system, but Spider-Man gives it to Mysterio because he thinks that’s his test. What he doesn’t know is that Mysterio actually wants to rule the world and take down Spider-Man along with the Avengers.”

“Woah,” the room said.

“I know, crazy right? I feel like I shouldn’t talk about it more to avoid spoilers, even thought this script isn’t gonna be made into a film.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” someone else said. “But don’t tell us. I know I give you a hard time for keeping things from us but I’m literally begging you not to.”

You laughed and the rest of the room agreed, so you pretended to zip your mouth shut and throw the key away.

When the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over, you began to pack up and say goodbye to people who showed up to the club. Peter and Ned, however, wanted to try to make your screenplay into a reality.

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter said. “We’ve got like, six minutes before the last bell rings. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, Peter! What is it?”

“Ah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think your script is really interesting, and Ned and I were wondering if you’d let us turn it into a film.”

“It definitely won’t live up to your great story because we’re on a budget,” Ned said, “but we really want to make it into a short film.”

“Oh my goodness, yes!” you exclaimed. “That sounds like a literal dream!”

“We know it’s not gonna be Hollywood grade,” Peter explained, “but I work at Stark Industries and I could as Spider-Man to do some stunts?”

“You would?” you asked. “That’s really cool, Peter.”

“He’d probably have no time to act, though.”

You smiled. “That’s okay. You offering is enough for me.”

You were so happy that your first finished screenplay (that you were proud of) that you lunged yourself forward and threw your arms around Ned and Peter. Ned grinned happily and Peter was flustered when you let your head rest on his shoulder for a brief moment before giving them both your number.

“Text me after school! We can talk more and set up a date to meet up?”

“Sounds good!” Ned said. “Bye, Y/N!”

You waved and Peter couldn’t wait for school to be over. When the final bell rang, Peter shot you a text and you replied almost immediately.

Y/N: hey hey, peter parker!

Peter: you know my last name?

Y/N: you introduced yourself today, silly

Peter: ...i knew that

Y/N: anyway, i’m really excited by this project!! i’m also, kinda, reaaaaaally excited for spider-man to (maybe) be in our film

Peter: you’ll definitely get to meet him

Y/N: is it weird that i aall him ‘spidey’ tho...especially since he doesn’t know me akajajaj

Peter: no! not weird. definitely not weird. it’s a cute nick name

Y/N: phew. thought you might’ve think i was crazy

Peter: i love spider-man to, so i guess we’re both crazy

Y/N: you know what, peter? i know i don’t know you super well but i think that you might be the same as me

Peter: oh yeah? what’s that?

Y/N: enthusiastic and a total fangirl

Peter: in that case, i think you’re right [insert chef kiss here]

***

[lokilickedme]

Part 3 of Read By Loki Laufeyson - Fifty Shades of Grey

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own (no longer available there) 

Rating:  Mature

Archive Warning:  No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:  F/M

Fandom:  Loki - Fandom, Loki (Marvel) - Fandom, The Avengers (MarvelMovies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom

Relationship:  Loki/His Book, Ana/Christian

Character:  Loki, Loki Laufeyson, Loki (Marvel), Ana Steele, Christian Grey

Additional Tags:  Explicit Language, this book deserves its own warning tag, one that says DON'T READ ME, Explicit Sexual Content, lame and exceedingly silly descriptions of sex acts

Series:  Part 3 of Read by Loki Laufeyson

Stats:  Originally Published 2016-02-27   Words: 3386 (original version)

Part One:  The Night Manager

Part Two:  High Rise

   50 Shades of Grey, Read By Loki Laufeyson by lokilickedme 

Summary:  Loki reads 50 Shades and throws up multiple times. I would offer my apologies to E.L. James, but she doesn't deserve it. 

Notes:  See the end of the work for notes  

  This shitshow gets on the shaky road with a dedication that made the right side of my face twitch before the story even got started.  It's dedicated to "the master of my universe" and as of right this very moment I'm ready to preemptively toss it into the bathroom, not as reading material for my next luxury soak, but as a replacement for the empty roll of toilet paper that I keep forgetting to run to the store for.  Fuck me people, she didn't even capitalize "master" and ANY GOOD SUB KNOWS THAT NOT CAPITALIZING MASTER IS A MASSIVE SHOW OF DISRESPECT AND YOU DESERVE THE ASS BEATING YOU GET FOR IT - WITH ZERO AFTERCARE.  Don't ask me how I know that, but go ahead and fight me, this is a hill I’m willing to die on.  If this person is writing a book that's touted as an even remotely accurate accounting of a Dom/sub relationship, I can tell you right now, she doesn't know jack shit. 

So I've read a couple of pages and I'm already looking around for my seizure meds when I realize I don't take seizure meds.  I will after this, I might as well go ahead and call it in.  I'm to the part about Wanda the Volkswagon when my anticipatory boner not only goes away, but retracts so far up into my scrotum as a result of the most horrendous writing I've seen this side of Thor's second grade book report on Anne of Green Gables that I'm thinking I might just be female now.  I mean seriously?  This hurts.  I’m not even exaggerating, if you have a penis it’s going to draw up into your gall bladder.  If you have a vulva it’s going to need a vat of Burt’s Bees Extra Moisture Replenishing Salve and a bottle of cranberry capsules.  I’m not even female at the moment and this thing gave me a flaming UTI.

 I’m not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time.  Oh, the Merc is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal. 

People, this is a published book.  Someone got paid for this.  It got made into a movie.  I haven't even gotten to the sex yet and I'm already Google mapping monasteries within a one-hundred mile radius because I'm ready to take my vows.  No, this book hasn't made me believe in a higher power.  It has taken away my will to ever get laid again.

 The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. 

Holy fucking shitballs people, terminal velocity by its very definition means someone is going to die.  Is this person wearing a pressurized speed suit?  Do they hand them to you at the door before you go into the elevator?  How does the building tolerate the mechanics of generating that kind of speed?  And if by some random blessing by some random god who won't be getting any thanks from me she actually survived this trip to the twentieth floor, her brains would be leaking out her asshole.  That's not the way to make a good first impression, sweetheart.  Take the fucking stairs next time.

 It’s a stunning vista, and I’m momentarily paralyzed by the view.  Wow. 

Yes, wow.  Paralysis is rarely ever momentary darling, and it does ugly things to pretty girls.  Like, rendering you a jelly-like heap on the floor because your muscles don't continue working while you're paralyzed.  Paralysis sort of means your muscles have stopped working. 

I've begun highlighting every word I come across that the author obviously doesn't know the definition to.  Fake it till you make it, right darling?  Five pages in and my yellow pen has died a violent death.

 I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet, and falling head first into the office. Double crap – me and my two left feet! 

YOU. 

HAVE. 

GOT. 

TO. 

BE. 

FUCKING. 

KIDDING. 

ME.

In what universe is this ridiculous cutesy sort of shit thought to be amusing?  The cliches are giving me hemorrhoids.  Me and my two left feet?  Not that I'm an expert on Earth terminology and phrasing, but I'm fairly certain people stopped saying shit like that around 1962.  And...I can't believe I'm being forced to say this, but - double crap??  I was already calling my brother a bilgesnipe’s vagina by the time I could crawl, I'm pretty sure the last time I said something as immature and amateurishly silly as double crap I was still in the womb and cursing in Morse Code.  I may actually have even still been a sperm in my father's left testicle.  How old is this writer?

 “Um. Actually–” I mutter.  If this guy is over thirty then I’m a monkey’s uncle.  In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake.  As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me.  I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed.  Must be static.  I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate. 

I'm sorry but I really don't even know where to start.  The Um. Actually- ?  Or the I'm a monkey's uncle?  Maybe it's the staccato pacing?  The elementary school sentence structure?  The fact that all but one sentence of that paragraph has the word I in it, sometimes multiple times?  She placed her hand in his and they shook - sort of like I'm shaking right now.  It's the seizures this damn travesty has provoked, honestly I should sue the author for my prescription costs.  And if that girl's eyelids matched her heart rate then I'm just envisioning one of those blinky-eyed cupie dolls strapped to a paint mixing machine.

 “I own my company.  I don’t have to answer to a board.”  He raises an eyebrow at me.  I flush. 

Yes darling, always do a courtesy flush when the stench is really vomit-inducing.  Like now.  I'm not even going to ask if this conversation is taking place in a bathroom because I can tell you honestly, the bathroom is right where it belongs.

 His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel...or something. 

Something...like, maybe shit, perhaps?

 I shake my head to gather my wits. My heart is pounding a frantic tattoo - 

No darling, trust me, it's not.  A tattoo is something you draw on your body, there's no pounding involved unless you've done the drawing on your vagina.  And if you’re referring to the drum beat, then you should just say so because frankly this is meant to be a sex book and your readers aren’t going to be interested in Googling your sophomoric attempts at using interesting words.  And just as an aside, most humans are going to think of a Scottish marching band when you use that word in that context, and the last thing you want your readers thinking about while you’re sliding into a smut scene is men in plaid skirts blowing bagpipes.

 I am utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me.  My memories of him did not do him justice.  He’s not merely good-looking – he’s the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking - 

Hold on a second, I wasn't aware I was in this book?  I must have been drunk.  I'm not sure that I would consent to this idiocy even if I was soused off my gourd, so I think I'm going to be filing a second lawsuit for character theft.

 - and he’s here.  Here in Clayton’s Hardware Store.  Go figure. 

Yes, go figure sweetiepie.  Everybody, even handsome people, need replacement U-joints for their toilets.  They come in handy when you're trying to flush books.

 Finally my cognitive functions are restored and reconnected with the rest of my body. 

Honey, cognitive functions aren't a part of your body, they're a part of your brain.  So unless your head fell off while you were walking around in Clayton's Hardware Store, I doubt this happened.  If it did, my condolences to Mr Clayton and the other shoppers, I know how traumatic that can be.

 And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain – 

You mean the whole thing?

 - probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells – comes the thought: He’s here to see you. 

I just had another seizure.  It’s a sex book darling, stop trying to use seventy-five cent Merriam Webster words and settle for something along the lines of My fucking head exploded - trust me, at this point your readers will relate to that far more than to the concept of subconscious thought.  Or any thought at all.  And we all know it’s highly unlikely Miss Double Crap Wanda-driving headless-in-Clayton’s-Hardware store is capable of coming up with a term like medulla oblongata after that terminal velocity elevator ride.

 No way! I dismiss it immediately.  Why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me?  The idea is preposterous, and I kick it out of my head.

 And now your head is completely empty, much like the author's, because that poorly constructed series of sentences was all that was rattling around in there. 

For the sake of moving this along, because I have something to say about literally every fucking sentence in this roll of rough-ass toilet paper, I'm going to skip to the first round of sex and see if anything improves.  Because that's what people do when things aren't going well, isn't it?  They have sex and see if it gets better?  And then if it doesn't, you kick them out and finish up with a fresh pack of batteries and a few minutes of Skinamax and when you wake up in the morning it'll be a whole new day, sunshine.  Because honestly, I just got to the part where her cheeks went the color of the Communist Manifesto and if I don't get to some penis and vagina action I'm going to kill myself.  Besides that, all this double crap inner monologue is starting to make my ballsack clench up. 

So alright people, I've got my lube and my right hand ready, let's get this party started shall we?

  "Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?”  Holy shit.  Did I just say that? 

Well it certainly wasn't me.  Having medulla oblongata issues again, are we sweetheart?

 His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.  “No, Anastasia it doesn’t.  Firstly, I don’t make love.  I fuck... hard." 

Finally, someone steps up.  Is that the sound of zippers headed south I hear?

 "Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for.  You could still run for the hills.  Come, I want to show you my playroom.” 

Nope, my mistake.  Zippers firmly holding north.  How far is this fellow going to count?  Do people actually do that cheesy little “Firstly, secondly” speech tic all the way up to thirdly?  I usually only get to secondly before someone pops me in the mouth.  Somehow I have no trouble envisioning this obviously anal retentive Christian fellow proceeding right along to fourthly, fifthly, sixthly, seventhly...perhaps he has a numbers fetish to go along with that paperwork obsession of his.  If this is foreplay I'm leaving because math was never my strong point and I’ll be damned if I’m going to relive the hell of ninth grade just to get a two page smut scene.  If you want to have sex with me we get to firstly, I point to my zipper, and the game is on.  But he does get points for being forthright enough to come right out up front with the admission that he's such a rough fucker there have to be contracts involved.  Kudos my man.  Too bad he wrecked it by planting that playroom visual immediately after, because now all I can think about is a toybox full of Legos and a plastic xylophone.  Even I can't make anything kinky out of that.

 My mouth drops open.  Fuck hard!  Holy shit, that sounds so... hot.  But why are we looking at a playroom?  I am mystified.  “You want to play on your Xbox?” 

Yes darling, Fuck hard!  It sounds like a Bruce Willis movie, only this time he's not in an office building crawling through the ceiling or on an airplane fighting off terrorists, he's tied to a bed while Bonnie Bedelia drips hot wax on his scrotes.  It's a real shame we lost Alan Rickman, I'd give anything to see Hans Gruber standing at the foot of the bed in a leather corset intoning Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker just one more time.

As for playing on his Xbox, the Sims have a "whoo hoo" function.  That's all I'm going to say about that.

 - it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.  Holy fuck. 

Ah yes, the good old days of the Inquisition.  I had quite a wonderful time during that era, it was a sado-masochistic wet dream.  And no, I wasn't an Inquisitor...I worked as a volunteer equipment tester for the Vatican.  There wasn't a steel spiked ball cage or 360-degree nipple twister that earned my seal of approval until I screamed for my mommy.  Something tells me this pansy-ass little ninny isn't going to make it past the electroshock vulva clamps before she's crying for every matriarchal figure in her family all the way back to the Charlemagne era.

 “It’s about gaining your trust and your respect, so you’ll let me exert my will over you.  I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy even, in your submission.  The more you submit, the greater my joy – it’s a very simple equation.”  “Okay, and what do I get out of this?”  He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.  “Me,” he says simply. 

Um...no. Just no.  Unequivocally NO.  That isn't how it works, E.L. James.  Not in the slightest.  In a true Dom/sub relationship the submissive receives every bit as much as the Dominant, and there is no two ways around that.  Anything less is bullshit and whoever you're trying to force-feed this lie to should leave running and punch you in the crotch on the way out.  I sincerely hope anyone reading this nonsense is doing so on a dare and not because they want to learn about D/s dynamics, because you're obviously not going to learn anything from this book except how to be a lip-biting ningnong who doesn't do much more than chat merrily with herself inside her medulla oblongata while mentally spouting double crap! on repeat every thirty-seven seconds.  And any respect I had for this Grey fellow for being up front about his sexual preferences just went out the window, which coincidentally is where the lip-biting ningnong should be headed.  Like he said - you could still run for the hills. 

Skipping ahead...skipping ahead...my god are these idiots ever going to do it?  I'm on page 194 and so far the closest they've come to coitus is when he almost ejaculated in his pants in an apoplectic rage when she told him she was a virgin.

 “Ah,” I groan. 

Ack, I puke.

 “You smell so good,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, a look of pure pleasure on his face, and I practically convulse.  He reaches up and tugs the duvet off the bed, then pushes me gently so I fall on to the mattress. 

I'm practically convulsing too darling, but unfortunately not with pleasure.  I need more anti-seizure meds, I've already gone through the entire bottle.  I'll be starting on the Xanax next and then it’s another call to my HMO.

 I’m panting... wanting. 

I'm vomiting...heaving.

 Not taking his eyes off mine, again he runs his tongue along my instep and then his teeth.  Shit.  I groan... how can I feel this, there? 

Hold up a second - this is a man who is so persnickety he pulls the duvet off the bed before he lets her set her ass on it, but now less than a page later he's just removed her sneaker and is licking the bottom of her sweaty all-day Converse encased foot?  My capacity for suspension of disbelief is not only wavering at this point, it’s pretty much died a slow and painful death.  Which is what I feel like I’m doing.  And if a man is holding eye contact while licking the bottom of your foot, he’s either upside down or your leg is so high up in the air he could be looking up your hooch and seeing himself through your left nostril.

“How do you make yourself come?  I want to see.”  I shake my head.  “I don’t,” I mumble.

I call bullshit.  She’s twenty-one, a virgin, and has never diddled herself?  That’s about as likely as me never having had intercourse with a horse.

“Let go, baby,” he murmurs.  His teeth close around my nipple, and his thumb and finger pull hard, and I fall apart in his hands, my body convulsing and shattering into a thousand pieces.

Huh.  And here all this time I’ve been laboring under the delusion that more was required than just two short paragraphs worth of nipple play.  This girl is a physical wonder, her nipples are clitorises.  Clitori?  Clitterati?  However you say multiple clits.  I know playing with them feels nice and I’ve made more than one maiden squirm with a few well placed sucks and a pinch or two, but this girl was climaxing before he even got her out of her brassiere.  Someone get her a job at the Kinsey Institute.

Suddenly, he sits up and tugs my panties off and throws them on the floor.

I hope they didn’t land on the duvet, he went to such trouble to keep it from getting mussed.

Pulling off his boxer briefs, his erection springs free.  Holy cow...

Rather like a jack-in-the-box, I’m envisioning.  Holy cow indeed.  Twist the handle and Pop Goes The Weasel plays while you wait in panicked anticipation for that horrid little clown to burst out of the hinged metal box and scare the shit out of you.  Well, he did say playroom, didn’t he.  Oh, and boxers and briefs are two entirely different things, my dear.  The further we get into this silly little tale the more convincing my sneaking suspicion that the author has never actually met a man before.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Steele” he murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of my sex.

I’m sorry, I know I’m an adult and all but I’m giggling like a sixth grade girl that wandered into the wrong locker room at school.  And for the record, I know exactly what that sounds like because I’ve done it.  But this...this is just...holy fucking hell with twice the fire and ten times the brimstone, that sentence up there just chemically castrated me.  The head of his erection at the entrance of her sex.  I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume it means he put his cock on her pussy and we’ll call it fair and move along.

“Hard, he whispers, and he slams into me.  “Aargh!” I cry -

To quote Miss Steele, holy fuck!  His dick is so big it’s turned her into a pirate!

He speeds up.  I moan, and he pounds on, picking up speed, merciless, a relentless rhythm, and I keep up, meeting his thrusts.

Is anyone else envisioning these two jogging through the park playing bongos?  Just me?  Okay.  Oh and for future reference, because I assume this world isn’t lucky enough to escape at least three sequels to this travesty, no sentence should have as many commas as it has words unless the person speaking it is being punched in the mouth between each syllable.

Two orgasms...coming apart at the seams, like the spin cycle on a washing machine, wow.

Darling if the spin cycle on my washing machine made anything come apart at the seams I’d be at Home Depot demanding they make good on the warranty.  Which, something tells me, you should be doing with this new man of yours.

He increases the rhythm infinitesimally, and his breathing becomes more erratic.  My insides start quickening, and Christian picks up the rhythm.

I looked up infinitesimally, mainly because I’ve never actually seen it in print before and it’s such a strange looking word.  I laughed so hard my Xanax came out my nose when Google offered up this definition:  immeasurably small, exceedingly little, less than an assignable quantity.  To give it a meaning, it must usually be compared to another infinitesimal object in the same context.  Mr Grey, I do believe your tight coochied little virgin just called your dick tiny.

“You. Are. Mine.  Come for me, baby,” he growls.  His words are my undoing, tipping me over the precipice.  My body convulses around him, the precipice.  My body convulses around him, and I come, loudly calling out a garbled version of his name into the mattress.

Well damn, I have to say I’m impressed, both with the uncanny power this fellow’s voice has to make orgasms happen from out of thin air, as well as this girl’s ability to climax on demand after never having done so in her entire life previous to this encounter.  That’s three times now she’s “shattered into a million pieces” all over the fucking bed - thank god he had the presence of mind to toss the duvet on the floor, because those stains would never come out.  He’d probably be getting a visit from the local police as soon as Mrs Fratelli at the dry cleaners got a good look at it.  And I don’t know about anyone else but I really want to hear this “garbled version” of his name that she called out into the mattress.  No, really.  I want to hear it because I’m imagining something like what went down in the Caves of Caerbannog when the Knights were debating the pronunciation of the last word written on the wall.  Does that make Ana’s orgasms the sexual equivalent of the Black Beast of Argh?

I’ll wait for you to hit Google on that one.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.  I’ve got all the time in the world.  I still have six hours of studio time booked and this travesty of a novel is now residing in stall #2 in the mens room and I’m sitting here playing with the roll of toilet paper I stole.  It was a worthwhile trade.  The word Charmin printed four million times on these little squares in infinitely more intellectually stimulating than that undigested goat’s dinner we were reading.

Fifty shades of TP’ing E.L. James’s house, anyone?

End Notes:  All passages in italics are the property of E.L. James, and as far as I’m concerned she can keep them.

[stormyniqhts-blog]

hey, guys!! i’m sora and i’m happy to be here. i just want to start off by talking a bit about myself. such as having a love for anime, disney movies, doggos, and uhh, i’m also recently binge watching stranger things s3. anyway, this will be a super mega intro post as i’ll be putting all my charas into one intro, so here’s info on julie tran, layla evans, frankie sullivan, and dylan grayson!!

edit: i also have a general plots page, but i’m open to anything outside of it!

if you want to go through a specific chara, all you have to do is ctrl+f and type “--chara name”

--JULIE TRAN

* lana condor. twenty-three. female. she/her. | did you see julie tran this morning on main street? i heard they were heading towards the protests. they’ve been in ballard for all her life and last time i spoke to them, they were a sales associate. if i remember correctly, they’re a scorpio and they remind me of colorful striped tops, lazy sundays, sunbathing probably because they’re sociable and prim.

about

things seemed like a picture perfect image for the girl when she was young. she helped her family with chores, worked hard in elementary and middle school classes, etc. however, by the time high school rolled around, her relationship with her parents weren’t exactly the same. she realized her dream of becoming a fashion designer, which they didn’t approve on due to how they wanted their daughter to work in the medical field.

at first, she agreed on dropping the dream and went on with doing well in her classes. except, she never gave up on her dream. when she finally graduated high school, she moved out of her parents’ place with saved up money and hardly talked to them since then. she felt guilty for not being who they wanted her to be, but being away felt better than trying to be someone she didn’t picture herself as.

soon, her parents decided to move away too and the relationship between her and them became more estranged. now, she’s in the process of improving her designs while working as a sales associate.

tl;dr basically a girl who wants to be a fashion designer someday and has an estranged relationship with her parents.

details

pinterest

character aesthetic + inspo

disgust (inside out), wendy darling (peter pan), tori vega (victorious), lara jean covey (to all the boys i’ve loved before), jane sloan (the bold type), lady (lady & the tramp), mabel pines (gravity falls), cher horowitz (clueless).

traits

insecure, loyal, motherly, organized, passive, picky, prim, self-righteous, sociable.

personality

she’s basically a mom friend. anything you’ll need, she’ll more than likely have it. she’s also always there for her loved ones no matter what, whether it’s early in the morning or late at night.

she tends to think of her friends and others before herself. adding onto this, she tends to not say no to others because of how helpful she wants to be, so at times, she’ll feel overwhelmed or exhausted.

the reason why insecure is added is because she feels as if she’s quite bland. that there’s really no unique trait about her. sure, she cares about others, but she feels there are so many people in the world that are also caring and it’s not exactly something different.

julie can also be quite self-righteous because she thinks she knows what’s best for people and just doesn’t realize she may bring harm.

aesthetics

colorful striped tops, lazy sundays, sunbathing, single-colored sunglasses, ponytails with ribbons, white blouses with collars, cup of tea, clothes organized by color.

style

she’s known to wear black mary janes, neutral colors or single-colored outfits, and is usually seen wearing blouses with skirts or dresses. once in a while, she’ll wear a patterned top or bottoms.

headcanons

she’ll always have necessary things in her bag. such as snacks, band-aids, tylenol, tissues, etc.

as she dreams of being a fashion designer, she has sketchbooks filled with clothing designs.

she has a small orange kitten named oliver (because of oliver & company)

--LAYLA EVANS

* danielle campbell. twenty-eight. cis female. she/her. | did you see layla evans this morning on main street? i heard they weren’t heading towards the protests. they’ve been in ballard for all her life and last time i spoke to them, they were a worker at twice new and housekeeper at horizon suites. if i remember correctly, they’re a leo and they remind me of matching lace bras & thongs, waves crashing against the shore, piggyback rides probably because they’re adventurous and stubborn.

about (tw: mentions of death & abuse)

one would think she’s the happiest girl alive with her parents. they would spend a lot of time together, watch layla during her ballet recitals, and eat dinner at the dining table every night. things were immediately different the moment her dad passed away when she was nine years old. since then, her mom began ignoring her because of how much the girl reminded her of her husband. layla learned to take care of herself soon enough.

things were spiraling down from there. once she was in middle school, she started rebelling and causing trouble. she destroyed properties, stole from stores, etc. when she became a high schooler, she started failing classes and took summer school, partied almost every night, drank a lot, and almost got expelled. the only reason she didn’t was because her advisers and teachers gave her a second chance to improve. she ended up taking it. by her junior year, her behavior was improving gradually and worked harder at bringing up her gpa. the reason why she took the second chance was because of her dream to be a best-selling author and to go to college. which she was accepted into.

nonetheless, she may not be a writer at the moment, that doesn’t mean she plans to forget her dream. she just wants to use up more time to improve on her writing. she’s talked to multiple publishers and is just continuing to grow for now.

tl;dr she’s had a rough past and just wants to be a best-selling author.

details

pinterest

character aesthetics + inspo

n/a

traits

adventurous, childish, impulsive, obstinate, promiscuous, valiant, vulgar

personality

layla’s very outgoing and sociable. she loves hanging out with people, whether it’s going to a party, drinking, going out for food, road trips, or just having a simple picnic or laying on the ground to look at stars. she’s just always looking to have fun and definitely a party animal. almost any party you see, she’ll be there. 

she also stands up for those who are close to her heart and can be reliable as she’s there for them no matter what. 

nonetheless, once in awhile she’ll get an idea and quickly act on it. and even though she can be wrong at times, it does take her a moment to admit it.

aesthetics

a journal full of words, matching lace bras & thongs, waves crashing against the shore, piggyback rides, the comfort of someone being there, wanting to hear the words ‘i’m proud of you’, hands gripping bed sheets, police sirens, worn out ballet shoes.

style

basically her fashion consists of all kinds of shorts (mainly booty shorts and ripped ones), crop tops, oversized hoodies and shirts, spandex shorts, tops that show off cleavage, fishnets, and occasionally skirts + denim, ripped jeans. 

she has a few very nice dresses too.

headcanons

she has this tattoo on the back of her left arm and this tattoo in the same area.

she’s bisexual and proud of it.

other labels that can define her: the dirtbag, the halcyon.

one of her most prized possessions is a necklace her dad gave her.

--FRANKIE SULLIVAN

* chloe bennet. thirty-one. cis female. she/her.  |  did you see frankie sullivan this morning on main street? i heard they weren’t heading towards the protests. they’ve been in ballard for 2 months and last time i spoke to them, they were a ceo of a florist company. if i remember correctly, they’re a virgo and they remind me of a hot cup of starbucks coffee, plants scattered throughout the bedroom, reading alone in a library probably because they’re generous and reserved.

about

a girl who was born in las vegas, nv. she had wonderful parents that divorced when she was fourteen. however, she didn’t mind it at all. she was happy as long as they were. plus, she wanted a bigger family, so if they were going to remarry to other people, she was oddly okay with it too. mainly because of how she always wanted a bigger family since she’s an only child. eventually, that was what happened. five years ago, her dad remarried and soon, frankie had a step-mom and step-sibling. at first, she cared about them due to how much family already meant to the girl, but as months became years, she soon grew suspicious over the relationship between her step-mom and dad.

years ago, she was betrayed by her closest friends and now has a cynical view because she wasn’t able to forgive them. she was told multiple times to get over it, but couldn’t. she continued to wonder how people can be so close then do something harsh to another. it still astonishes her now and from that point on, she didn’t really let anyone into her life, thoughts, or feelings.

tl;dr one who prefers being with plants than people

details

pinterest

character aesthetics + inspo

n/a

traits

adaptable, distant, generous, grouchy, reserved, responsible

personality

she tends to be pessimistic because of her past and doesn’t want history to repeat itself, so she tends to not get too close to others. she may have two or three friends, but that’s about it. plus, she can be quite rude and cold-hearted to push others away.

however, she’s also very giving when it comes to charities because with so much money, she still wants to be kind to others, especially those who are in need.

when things change in her life, however, she faces them head on and is just calm about it.

aesthetics

walk-in closets but wearing the same 5 outfits, walking through trails, smelling fresh air, having polaroids of flowers, black hair ties, not needing glasses but wearing them for fashion, stacks of books that were actually used and read, a hot cup of starbucks coffee, plants scattered throughout the bedroom, a person reading alone in a library, being the wallflower at a party

style

most of her style is denim and single-colored tops with a lot of neutral colors. she tends to leave her hair longer than her shoulders and mainly leaves it down, but will put it in a ponytail once in a while.

headcanons

can be labeled as the anthomaniac or the recluse.

she comes from old money from her dad and new money from her mom.

the idea of frankie was originally from wanting to play a flower child, but not in a stereotype way.

she owns a florist company, but wants to place a shop in ballard.

she has this tattoo on her side.

her whole apartment is filled with plants, real and fake.

she has an ex who cheated on her when they were dating.

frankie prefers to use her time indoors watching movies/tv shows, taking care of her plants, reading, or simply going on the internet. 

if anything, she’s mainly the type to have a one night stand, but has kept only three or four friends with benefits all her life. and has one or two close friends.

--DYLAN GRAYSON

* rose park. twenty-four. cis female. she/her.  |  did you see dylan grayson this morning on main street? i heard they weren’t heading towards the protests. they’ve been in ballard for five months and last time i spoke to them, they were a voice actress & influencer. if i remember correctly, they’re an aries and they remind me of red lipstick, dealing with chaos behind doors, uploading youtube videos probably because they’re driven and shallow.  

about

since she was a baby, she was already adopted by mr. and mrs. grayson, a well-known old money family. past generations owned a huge company for properties and built malls across the country. which didn’t seem like such a big deal to the girl growing up. all she cared about was belonging somewhere and being with a family. she was even happier to have grown up with siblings. even her biological parents hardly came to mind because she was happy where she was. however, the older she became, the more chaotic her family seemed. there would be scandals written in articles about her family, secrets being revealed, and it felt dramatic fights happened almost every week. nonetheless, it didn’t matter to the girl. she was extremely loyal to her parents and siblings. she swore she’d do anything for them.

for her childhood, she grew up in ballard and she’s loved the town deep down. she thought about how cute the place was and cherished everyone. a reason why when she left during the beginning of high school, she was quite sad for a while. soon enough, she got over it though. she attended a private school, made friends with multiple people, and eventually graduated. moving onto college, she went to nyu then later on received both bachelor’s and master’s in business. during her time in college, however, the town centre mall was already built and didn’t hear word of it at the moment. eventually, thinking she was mature enough and able to handle it herself, she was given the town centre mall as a gift at the age of twenty-four.

tl;dr she was adopted from a rich family, that she loves very much, and now owns the town centre mall

details

pinterest

character aesthetics + inspo

the carringtons (dynasty 2017), fallon carrington (dynasty 2017), serena van der woodsen (gossip girl), stella (winx club)

traits

ambitious, cautious, driven, loyal, protective, shallow, materialistic

personality

she’s very determined and hard-working. when she wants something, she’ll do better than doing her best and work on getting it.

with being materialistic and shallow, she tends to think about appearance first. during her high school years, she 

aesthetics

microphones, red lipstick, dealing with chaos behind doors, uploading youtube videos, studio booths, scripts, shopping bags with expensive brand names, diamond necklaces, family portraits

style

80% of the time, she’ll be seen wearing a dress or matching 2-piece outfits. the other 20% are filled with patterned tops, jeans, faux fur coats, and skirts. a bit less than half of the dresses she own are sparkly too. while her shoes are mainly high heels and knee boots. as for her hair, she mostly leaves it down. she’ll also be seen wearing jewelry everyday.

headcanons

the girl just loves to go shopping. she’ll take anyone to go shopping with.

the reason one of her occupations is voice actress is because during her summers in high school and college, she took up jobs in voice acting since she wanted to go out into the entertainment business for a while, but didn’t quite feel comfortable singing or acting for tv shows and movies. she just preferred being in a booth and saying lines.

as for influencer, it started during her high school years as she mainly gave fashion advice and worked on make-up tutorials.

[ravensmuse]

When I was in Middle School the 8th grade class did a “Tour of Georgia” every year. We got on a bus and basically went point to point on the map, over the course of a week, seeing these important historical sites. Presidential birthplaces and homes, Civil War battle sites, important ecological sites... anything really notable. Our group also visited the Okefenokee Swamp. 

One one of the last days of the trip we were taking part in an ecological tour in the Okefenokee Swamp. It’s not just a giant wetland, it’s a Wildlife Refuge. The swamp is home to herons, egrets, frogs, turtles, lizards, snakes, black bears, hogs, and most notably, alligators. The alligators are everywhere. In the water, on the side of the road, surrounding the docks, you name it. And when it comes to alligators the safest place to be is AWAY from them. They’re pretty chill if you stay in your car or boat and don’t provoke them. 

We had completed our tour and it was time to check out the gift shop, to take home little rubber alligators and pressed pennies and any variety of stuffed animals. I think they even had an ice cream shop. As we’re walking out I notice this kid, elementary school aged, lying on the end of the dock and trailing his hands in the water. There were multiple groups of adults standing around with ice cream cones, and many signs posted explaining you shouldn’t go into the water, or dangle your appendages from the dock, but no one was paying attention to this kid... just... doing what kids do, trying to reach down and put his hands in the water. His hands. In. The water. The SWAMP water. Where the alligators are. LITERALLY FEET AWAY. 

Sure drowning is a concern but the alligators were an imminent threat

If any of you know me in real life you know that I can be blunt. This isn’t something that developed over time. I’ve sort of always been an asshole, but I’ve been called rude many times in cases where I’ve just been stating facts or sometimes making an observation. I do try my very best to not make these assertions in front of strangers unless absolutely necessary. I’ve never wanted to talk to strangers, but sometimes an observation MUST be made... and I MUST be called rude as a consequence...

I don’t know this kid, I have no way of knowing who his parents are, they aren’t with us, so I exclaim, “Man it would be awful if that KID GOT EATEN BY AN ALLIGATOR!” and immediately the adults turn to look. Someone runs over and grabs the kid and sternly walks him away from the dock. 

One of the teachers jumps in front of me and says “That was rude!” 

Informing strangers their kid was in danger was rude. 

I’ve seen a lot of news stories where kids get eaten by an alligator on a golf course and I feel like if they could have been saved with a blurted out warning their parents would have been grateful. “That was rude!”

Well, I think it’s rude to let your unattended child get eaten by an alligator, but maybe that’s just me.

[therandomfics]

DISTANCE: 2

“Sonny, please don’t go.” Begging, though not your style or expertise, was something you were willing to do when it came to the only one you loved. 

His sigh and slumping shoulders gave away his guilt. Of course he didn’t want to leave, but if he wanted to make sure he took care of loose ends, he couldn’t be with you until it was over. “I have to, Y/N. I should have never came back in the first place. I put you in danger and if anything happens to you I’m not gonna forgive myself.” 

Beneath the warmth of your sweater, your stomach was doing somersaults. One second you were hopeful, the next you were disgusted. Why must things be like they are? You chose to stay silent, knowing that pleading would only make him feel more guilty, and you didn’t want to hurt him. 

“It wouldn’t be an issue if I hadn’t been out of that house for nearly five days once you got that call. That’s the problem. I didn’t have your number saved in the burner, I never called you while I was under. It was a risk I didn’t wanna take and yet somehow my best laid plans got shit on.” He was packing a few of his more casual clothing items to leave, having deposited his old bag by the laundry closet on his way in. 

You wanted to tell him that whoever it was knew your name, but again with the desire to keep him more calm, you chose not to say anything. Instead, you sat on the edge of the bed and watched him pack. He was moving slowly, as if he wanted to take his time and be near you - but, you both knew time was almost up. 

“Let me make this right, and I’ll be back,” he insisted, leaning down to kiss you goodbye. You held him tight for a moment longer and then let him go, nodding and fighting back tears. It was never easy to watch him go, but if it were easy, there’d be no point in staying. 

It had been two months since you’d seen Sonny. The same disgusting feelings of wondering why you stuck around continued to float through your head, and after the first few weeks, you started to welcome them. Misery loved company, and you had become so very miserable. While you knew Sonny was working, it was hard for you to understand why he accepted the UC position, anyway. It was so dangerous, and while he was great undercover, you wished he had less talent when it came to being multiple people. 

From your tidbits of updates through SVU, you already knew Sonny was working to get close to someone who they suspected of serial rape throughout NYC, and perhaps even down into New Jersey and Delaware. What bothered you most is that someone from the house they were staying in had called you and knew you by name, and now your better half was missing. Benson couldn’t give anymore information than she already had, and it didn’t seem like anyone else was willing to fork over any input, either. 

It was better to try to live your normal life, though, even if it wasn’t easy. You worked during the week as a Instructional Assistant at a local Elementary school. On the weekends, you worked on grading the most difficult 4th grade spelling tests you’d ever seen. That was a benefit - being an IA meant you had all eight of the classes as yours, so you stayed busy. When you weren’t nose deep in gel pens and eraser marks, you volunteered at a soup kitchen, though sometimes you stayed home and sulked. Sulking was your favorite. 

“What’s on the menu today?” a grainy voice asked on the other side of the partition. 

“Good afternoon, Louie. Looks like we have spaghetti tonight, or broccoli cheddar soup. Pick your poison,” you replied with a soft smile. The interaction was nice, but sometimes exhausting, especially when you didn’t feel like pleasantries. 

“Soup,” he replied, taking the bowl from you and moving on down the line. “Thanks.” 

You  murmured a ‘welcome’ and kept it going, serving the next thirty or so guests before everything was gone and it was your time to leave. Volunteering was pretty nice, and you wondered why you hadn’t done it earlier. You had been preoccupied with spending all of your time with Sonny that it was strange but fulfilling to do something for another person. 

“I’ll see you guys next weekend. Thanks, again,” you called out as you left the building. It was dark and brisk, your kind of weather, as you stepped out onto the street. The only concern you ever had was that you weren’t in the best neighborhood when you did your volunteering, and it was always dark when you left. The walk to the subway only took about five minutes, though, and you usually hyped yourself up enough to make the trip in 3 minutes. 

On the platform, you waited for the next train. Five minutes, hopefully less depending on traffic and whether or not people actually got off when they were supposed to, instead of lingering in the doorway so the conductor had to wait. A couple some twenty feet down from you caught your attention, giggling and twirling one another around. It must be nice. Seeing them out of the corner of your eye really made you miss him, but it simply was what it was, nothing could change that anytime soon. 

The woman, in mid spin, lost her hat and watched as it fluttered to your feet. You bent down and scooped it up, meeting her halfway on the platform. 

You offered her hat with an outstretched arm. “Here you go.” 

“Thank you,” she replied, thick New York accent filling your head. She turned and walked back to her lover, falling into his arms again. You couldn’t help but to be jealous, and look on in spite. He kissed her gently, beaming at her when he pulled away. 

The noise that left your throat wasn’t human, but it was loud enough to catch the attention of the couple. You recognized his face. No, in fact, you knew it too well. Sonny, your boyfriend, your undercover detective significant other, was entangled with another woman in front of you. 

Lucky for you, the train came only a moment later, and you hurried aboard stood with your back to them. They boarded as well, at the end of the car, leaving you unable to react to what you had seen. Sure, he was undercover, and you knew that, but did he have to act like he was so happy? Had he ever looked at you like that? Questionable. And, if he was so happy, was he really undercover? Maybe it was all a ruse. You glanced down at them, noting that he was staring at you over the shoulder of the woman he was with. You averted your gaze to the floor and glared, wondering what her name was? Probably something cheap like Candy. Why did you hate her? You didn’t even know her, and plus it was Sonny you should be angry with. You thought he was going back to tie up loose ends, not tie up something loose. 

Your stop finally arrived and you quickly left the subway station, nearly running up the steps to get to the street as you fumbled for your phone. 

“Hello?” 

“Amanda, it’s Y/N.” 

“Hey, what’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a while.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m worried about Sonny. I haven’t heard from him since he left and I didn’t think he’d be gone this long.” 

She sighed, whether in frustration or sadness, you didn’t know. “He’s alright. I talked to him today. He’s working on something bigger now, trying to prove himself to the ring leader of that sick organization so that they’ll trust him. I know this is hard, Y/N, but you’ve gotta trust him, okay?” 

“Why would you say that? That I need to trust him?” 

“I-I don’t know, really, it just seemed like something you’d need to hear, that’s all.” 

“Why isn’t he able to contact me?” 

“He doesn’t want to risk people finding out who you are.” 

“But doesn’t it look suspicious that he’s calling you, and you’re an NYPD Detective?” you countered, getting on the elevator of your building. “Or is this really just keep Y/N in the dark and hope she’s too dumb to ask questions?” 

“Hey, no, you know it’s not like that at all.” In the background, you heard crying. “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. I can’t explain anything, but Jessie’s losing her mind and I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.” 

Alright, if that’s how everyone wants to act, then fuck them, you thought to yourself, dropping your bag on the counter when you got inside. If that’s how everyone wanted to treat you, to keep you in the dark and avoid the truth, you’d be a willing participant. You walked into your bedroom and pulled out your suitcase, the one you’d moved away to college with, got your first apartment with, and most importantly, the one you’d used to move into the apartment with Sonny. With a huff, you tossed the suitcase on the bed and unzipped it, beginning to fill it with as much of your clothing as you could muster. 

Now it was time for someone else to be in the dark.