#Paul’s favorite teacher

[underthecitysky]

Alan Durband, Paul’s Favorite Teacher

“Sir Paul credited his own English teacher at school, Alan Durband, for sparking his interest in literature and the arts back in the 1950s. And he said he wouldn’t have been “too bad” at the job himself.

The former Beatle was responding to a question from presenter John Wilson on the BBC Radio 4 programme This Cultural Life, which airs tomorrow evening. Wilson asked McCartney how his life would have panned out had he never left Liverpool.

“The only thing I was really any good at, or had the qualifications for, was teaching. So I could have taught. And I think I might not have been too bad at it,” McCartney said. “For me, it would have been English. Low level English literature. I’d have to swat up if I was going to get the high level stuff.”

The 79-year-old credited the “brilliant” Durband for introducing him to Chaucer while at the Liverpool Institute High School for Boys. Durband had been taught by FR Leavis, the scholar and literary critic, whilst at Cambridge, and his passion for literature rubbed off on the teenage McCartney.

“He was great, a very good teacher. And he got me to get interested [in Chaucer] by telling me about The Miller’s Tale. When I read it I thought, ‘This is great, it’s really dirty’. It gave me a lot of respect for Chaucer and then it got me interested in other bits of literature. And I became really interested in going to the Royal Court in Liverpool and watching plays and reading plays, because he’d done the thing that great teachers do,” said McCartney.

Prior to being taught by Durband, the musician described himself as “a bit of a skiver” at school. “Teachers were pretty brutal in those days, and they were allowed to whack you, so they did. [But] there was a period where I was getting very near exams; those couple of years I paid attention a bit more,” he said. McCartney left the Liverpool Institute – known by pupils as The Inny – in 1960 having sat A-Levels in art and English. He failed the former and passed the latter, according to biographer Philip Norman. While this would have been enough to get McCartney into teacher training college, his fledgling band decided to go and play music in Hamburg instead. The rest is history. (X) The Telegraph 10/21

McCartney received an excellent education at his school and developed a love for books and poetry at school. In an interview with Barnes & Noble’s James Daunt, McCartney discussed his early education at the institution. “It was a really good free education where the first year, I was learning Latin and Spanish and all the other subjects,” McCartney recalled. “Second year, it was Latin, Spanish, and German. So, you know, just in two years, I’m engaged…And then I’m finding books because I had a really good teacher, Alan Durband.”

Everyone has read Shakespeare in school, and whether his words are understood, it is undeniable how his rhyming couplets influenced poetry and songwriting moving forward. McCartney was impressed by Shakespeare’s techniques and didn’t realize how they influenced his songwriting until years later. “Unwittingly, you know, because I didn’t really know I was going to do much with my songwriting. That was just a little hobby,” McCartney told Daunt. “I do think that is true that the meter of some of these things, I mean, one of the things I learned was that Shakespeare often uses rhyming couplets, and I always thought that was kind of an interesting idea…Unconsciously, I ended up ending one of my songs, “and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make,” not realizing that that’s where I picked it up.”

Paul McCartney has often said that the inspiration for “Let it Be” came from a dream where his mother came to visit him. He was in a state of worry in his life, and his mother, who died when he was young, told him not to worry and to “let it be.” However, in his 2021 book The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present, McCartney says that a speech from Shakespeare’s Hamlet was also an inspiration for the title. “One interesting thing about ‘Let It Be’ that I was reminded of only recently is that, while I was studying English literature at the Liverpool Institute High School for Boys with my favorite teacher, Alan Durband, I read Hamlet,” Paul recalled. “In those days you had to learn speeches by heart because you had to be able to carry them into the exam and quote them. There are a couple of lines from late in the play: ‘O, I could tell you — But let it be. Horatio, I am dead.’ I suspect those lines had subconsciously planted themselves in my memory.” (x)

[frogmanfae]

It's genuinely so disappointing how few people have gotten my Freddie Mercury bit

[iveleftitwithyou]

ruderal pt. 1 | paul lahote x reader

hi everyone! this is my first ever twilight imagine (and the first fanfic i've written in like 5 years) and it's already looking like it will be somewhat of a series. would love to hear your feedback (good or bad) on this, or if you want a second part :)

word count: 1.1k | based off a random writing prompt generator

you never know who you’ll run into at a funeral - or, in this case, the reception.

the church gymnasium was full of Forks residents, gathered to celebrate the life of Deborah Lewin. she worked as a teacher in the town for 30 years, long enough to teach the kin of some of her first classes of students. so, it wasn’t a surprise that the echoey cinderblock room was nearly full of people. 

you were seated at a table towards the middle of the space, sharing it with some of your friends who you’d had class with back when you had Mrs. Lewin as a teacher. you gazed out upon the sea of figures dressed in black, taking a mental inventory of all of the familiar faces in the room, when you spotted a face you didn’t expect to see entering the door.

“oh my god” you winced, averting your gaze and lowering your head immediately before you had the chance to be spotted.

“what?” your friend Ruby said, slightly panicked at your sudden, albeit quiet, outburst.

“Paul’s here.” you deadpanned, planning your escape as you spoke.

“Paul Lahote?” you hadn’t seen him in years, since he broke up with you over the phone for seemingly no reason on a random wednesday night. 

“what other Paul could it be?” it came out harsher than you intended, but right now, you couldn’t seem to care that much. 

of course, you looked up at the exact wrong time - Paul was looking at you from across the room. he stood in the food line next to Jacob Black, holding a ladle full of potato salad in one hand and a paper plate in the other. 

before you could even really recognize that he was, in fact, staring at you, the two of you made direct eye contact. in the split second before you instinctually looked away, you could have sworn you saw Paul’s face twitch into the same shocked expression that you wore on your face as you watched him walk in the room just a few minutes ago. however, there seemed to be something more behind his eyes, too; you couldn’t tell if it was fear, or pain, or sorrow, but there was something else there.

“do you want to leave?” Ruby’s words snapped you out of your small trance.

“no, i’m not here for me. i’m here for Mrs. Lewin. Paul’s not important enough for me to need to leave.” your words were unconvincing, even to yourself. you’d never truly moved on, never forgiven Paul for what he had done. he couldn’t even explain why - he just kept repeating that it was “for your own good” and “you’d be better off without him.” it stung that he would be willing to throw away nearly a year of time spent together, and to not even dignify you with doing it in person?

“i think i’m going to step outside for a second. it’s really hot in here and this sweater is not helping.” you tugged at the collar of your thick turtleneck. it was normally one of your favorites, but the mixture of anxiety and embarrassment bringing your body temperature up was enough for you to want to rip it off of your body as soon as humanly possible.

Ruby nodded, eyeing you suspiciously but recognizing that asking any questions right now would be entirely unproductive. the redhead turned back to your other friends, starting to tell the story of when Tyler Jackson broke her arm under the slide in kindergarten.

the cold, damp air brought you back to a somewhat normal headspace as you stepped outside. it was times like these, standing under an awning, watching the rain fall on the trees and the parked cars in front of you, that you wished you smoked cigarettes. you bet that it would help calm your nerves even more; to distract you from the feelings that had been stirred up tonight.

but, you had none, so you opted to take deep breaths in and out instead. your eyes closed and you slid down the wall, planting yourself cross-legged on the concrete. after a few minutes of meditative breathing and counting the raindrops that dripped onto the shrubbery in front of you, you heard the old church door creak open.

“y/n?” a small, deep voice asked. you still had not looked up from the shrubs, but you knew that voice anywhere. this time, though, it sounded different. weaker.

“what do you want, Paul?” your tone was laced with annoyance. despite whatever feelings you had remaining for him, he was probably the last person you wanted to talk to right now. 

“can i sit with you?” he asked, taking a small step forward. he waited for your gentle nod before awkwardly parking himself next to you, but not too close. you were grateful for the space that remained, already regretting your split-second decision to allow him to join you.

“now will you tell me what you want? why you’re even bothering to speak to me?”

“i miss you.” he sighed. you could see him rubbing his temples with his impressively large hand, eyes covered and a slight wince on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“you miss me? you fucking miss me? go to hell, Paul. you’re the one who ended things - over the fucking phone, might i add - not me. you have no right to come over here and act like you even deserve to be sitting next to me right now, let alone telling me you miss me.” you were on your feet now, trying and failing to keep your voice down as you watched Paul seem to recoil at your tone. you were still confused why he was acting like this; usually, nothing could crack his tough exterior, but here he was with his knees to his chest pushing himself against the church wall, not even making eye contact with you.

“now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going back inside. this day is not about you, or me.”

“y/n, wait-“ Paul’s voice was cut off by the closing of the heavy church door. 

you sighed as you walked back to your table, joining your friends once again.

“hey y/n, feeling better?” your friend Jordan asked. you smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, nodding a little too fast. he didn’t seem to notice - they must not have seen Paul follow you outside. for that, you were grateful, in no mood to discuss whatever just happened.

—————

part 2 here :)

[jiarkives]

julia’s favorites ! (iv)

♡ - fluff ; ♤ - angst ; ♕ - nsfw ; ☆ - series

jujutsu kaisen

☆ snapshot - gojo satoru

↳ @stsgluver-archive

♡♤ sincerity - geto suguru, gojo satoru (poly!)

↳ @justauthoring

♕ the best teacher - nanami kento

↳ @nanaslutt

♤♡ heaven’s fury - gojo satoru

↳ @chuluoyi

♕ drabble - gojo satoru

↳ @makismei

~

criminal minds

♕ spencer’s favourite meal - spencer reid

↳ @slightlypossessed

♡ aaron finds you putting jack to bed - aaron hotchner

♡ the bau team meets spencer’s secret girlfriend - spencer reid

↳ @claypgeons

♡ drabble - spencer reid

↳ @inkdrinkerworld

♡ mrs doctor reid - spencer reid

♡♤ “i don’t know anything about dinosaurs” - spencer reid

↳ @vivwritesfics

♡♤ safe - spencer reid

↳ @rynbutt

♡♤ cross my heart - spencer reid

↳ @januaryembrs

♡♤ bulletproof bonds - aaron hotchner

♤♡ through the years - aaron hotchner

♤♡ calming storms - aaron hotchner

↳ @thewulf

♡ the parentals - aaron hotchner ft. bau team

↳ @ssahotchnerr

♡ drabble - spencer reid

♡ drabble - aaron hotchner

↳ @luveline

♤ i need to be excused - aaron hotchner

↳ @ynscrazylife

♡ your relationship with hotch and the influence on his son, jack - aaron hotchner

↳ @ginkgo-phyta

♤ alive and breathing - spencer reid

↳ @zvdvdlvr

~

marvel

♤♡ the script - peter parker

↳ @waitimcomingtoo

♡♤ medusa - avengers

↳ @arlana-likes-to-write

~

marauders

♡♤ our baby has four feet? - regulus black, remus lupin (poly!)

♡ animagus!reader - james potter, remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

♡ introducing their first child to the marauders - sirius black

♡ sirius’ arch nemesis - james potter, remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

♡ what’s one more? - sirius black ft. marauders

♡♤ the winner takes it all (i) - james potter, remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

♡♤ the loser has to fall (ii) - james potter, remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

↳ @ellecdc

♡ uncle padfoot’s motorcycle - remus lupin ft. sirius black

↳ @empress-simps

♡ begin again - james potter

↳ @pretty-little-mind33

♤ the one with the blouse (i) - remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

♤♡ the one with the blouse (ii) - remus lupin, sirius black (poly!)

↳ @super-clearlysaltybouquet

~

genshin impact

♤♡ scenarios - neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli ft. pregnant!reader

♤♡ when you sleep on the couch after an argument - alhaitham

♡ lady ragnvindr and klee’s day out - diluc ragnvindr

↳ @lunargrapejuice

♡ mischievous streak - neuvillette ft. wriothesley

↳ @chastiefoul

~

call of duty

♤ the price of protection - john price

♤♡ lassie - john ‘soap’ mactavish

↳ @thewulf

~

top gun: maverick

♡♤ lost and found - jake ‘hangman’ seresin

♡ bumblebee - bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw

↳ @thewulf

~

shameless

♤ black and blue - lip gallagher

↳ @jesswriteswrongs

~

twilight

♡ forever yours - paul lahote

↳ @thewulf

♕ divider — @bunnysrph

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

Okay this is really irritating so i need this to stop happening: "Oh I am a Christian but I don't believe in like the bible or anything; I just follow the teaching of Jesus. But like, whether Jesus was God or rose from the dead or was even real at all, doesn't really-" Stop.

STOP. This is not Christianity. You are not Christian. Christian comes from "Christ" and it is the Christian belief that for Jesus to be the Christ and the Ben Adam (Son of Man/Humanity) is form him to be both human and divine. If you think he was just some moral teacher you're a fool whatever, that's fine, it's fine. BUT DON'T CALL YOURSELF CHRISTIAN!!! There is a separate thing: Jesusism or something like that. Call yourself a Jesusist (not Jesuit) or whatever. Not. Christian.

You are not Christian if you disregard the Tanakh, or Paul, or if you cannot affirm the Nicene Creed. I am not an elitist, just a gatekeeper :). Leave my religion alone.

ALSO. If you are a hater, a supporter of oppression, or otherwise concerned with controlling people's lives, also STOP CALLING YOURSELF CHRISTIAN!!! We have words for those things now. Words like "patriarchy" and "white supremacy". And if you think your Christian because "I am American! And Christianity is the religion of America!" No. No no no no no. America is Babylon. Actually do some study into Christian Political Ethics and you will find (in both the first and second testaments) criticism of many of America's policies. A country that murders innocent people cannot be called the country of Christ. It can be called the City Where Our Lord Was Slain. Stop just being a racist and misogynist and a nationalist and then claiming it's because you're religious. Cause you're not.

I will go Frederick Douglas on you so quickly do not freaking try me (Frederick Douglass wrote an awesome piece on the religion of America and how it was not the religion of Christ. #new favorite prophet)

[moonystoes]

Camp Out! - Elisa De Almeida

(Final part)

Here: part 1, part 2, part 3

Summary: It's Camp out, and being in the same tent as Elisa isn't so bad.

Warning: none!

w/c: 9.6k

A/n: I promised you guys I will post the fic this weekend (I lied it's already 2 am), I have to be honest but I completely gave up on this chapter. I am so attached to y/n and baby Elisa, but this was so difficult for me. There were things I wanted to remove and edit, but I don't care at this point. I may make another chapter, but for now... it's over :,(

Days have passed since prom and your plan on avoiding Paul has been quite successful. It was the last week of school before winter break, and since you were the teachers’ favorite, you were asked to be working around the school all the time. Organizing papers, stapling the review papers, handing them out…things the teachers should be doing, And your job today is to take off the old prom posters from around the school. Usually you’d be frustrated and annoyed at the amount of work they put you through without paying you (child labor much?), but you were thankful and delighted for the extra school work given. Another excuse to avoid Paul.

You somehow found yourself humming that same song from prom, calmly ripping out the posters in the hallways. It wasn't until you heard an obvious fake, rough cough behind you. As you looked over to see if your annoying teacher had another chore for you, your heart sank when you realized it was Paul with a frown on his face.

“Hey, sorry but I really need to remove all of those posters.” You robotally said, twisting your body back and ripping out the small tape around the corners of the posters.

“Come on y/n, you’ve been busy this whole week, “ He groaned, resting his palm on your shoulder to turn you around to face him, “Just give me a minute.”

You sighed loudly as you pondered for a moment. Maybe you will gain confidence in this conversation and will make him leave you alone, “fine, just be quick.”

He nodded quickly and stood up straight. Inhaling deeply, he blurted out, “You embarrassed me in prom.”

“Excuse me?” You retorted, “what did you just say?”

“I mean… You left me alone. Prom wasn’t good because of that.”

“Paul, prom wasn’t good for multiple reasons. One of them was me agreeing to be your date.” You shrugged him off as you ripped out the papers from the wall. How dare he say something like that? You never snapped in school, in fact you rarely do in general. But you don’t care anymore. Not after the way Elisa treated you 10x better than him and she wasn’t your date. Hell, she wasn’t even your friend!

“What do you even mean by that? I was there! I didn’t run away and lied about going to the bathroom.” He spluttered, flailing his arms around him in frustration.

“Well if you were a great date, you…” you stammered, your confidence and anger has faded into worry. No matter how frustrated you are with him, you can’t make him angry or sad, the down part of being a people pleaser, “...would've noticed that I was sick. I had to go home.” You lied.

His brows furrowed in confusion, “were you actually?” He took a step closer to you, eyeing your body as if he would be able to see the sickness that way, “are you lying?”

Your face blushed at the thought of getting caught, “No! Why would I lie like that.”

“Because a friend of mine saw you walk out with another boy.”

A blush ran through your face as you looked down at the ground, too afraid to even glance at his doe brown eyes, “it wasn't a boy… It was Elisa.”

“What?” He gasped, flashbacks of the conversation both of you had at prom came crashing into him. 

“No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.”

No way! Did you ditch him for her? That's exactly what he said would never happen. Did the lesbian Elisa actually just snatch his girl on prom night?

“Ehm… she noticed I was sick in the bathroom and walked me home,” You turned your front into the wall, shakingly ripping out the papers on the wall like how you were supposed to do in the first place.

“Well…I'm sorry. You should've told me about it.” He shrugged his shoulders as his eyes were filled with disappointment in you for not letting him know.

“You should've acknowledged me.” You whispered back as you walked away from that hallway, exhaling calmly knowing that conversation is over, not caring how insensitive your response may be.

It felt great knowing that whatever had happened between you over the years through childhood is now thrown out. You may have been heartbroken if you knew this at the beginning of the year, but it feels like a blessing to you now.

___

January 11th, 2013

Turning slowly towards Sammy, you mumbled, "Do you know what is going on there?” Class should've started 5 minutes ago, but the class was delayed by 3 teachers who were whispering at the door including the school principal. 

"Yeah, it's Camp Out this Friday." Sam said in a duh tone. You hummed quietly, opening your notebook and writing the date quickly to prepare yourself for the new lesson. The teachers quietly left, leaving the History teacher alone at the front of the brightly lit class to start the afternoon.

"Good afternoon everyone. As you know, it's the beginning of the second semester and we have this tradition called ‘Camp out’." his hands fiddled with a stack of papers, folding them together and unfolding as he walks around the class.

"Told you." Sam stuck out her tongue quickly, before turning back to the front of the class.

"If you didn't know about Camp out, it's a tradition where the first year of high school gets a camp day for free! We will camp at the park, forest or whatever you want to call it. The one behind the school. We will provide food, movies, and games. But we will also sleep there. You will need to bring your own tents, sleeping bags, and anything you want.”

The students turned around, already discussing to each other what they should bring and do. You glanced at Sam to plan the day, but her long hair covered her face, and she played with her nails as always.

"Hey! I'm still talking. It will happen in three days, this Friday. You will go to school like normal. And instead of going home at 4, you will stay here. We will move to the park and build our tents, and stay there till 10 in the morning of the next day. We will provide dinner, snacks, and breakfast. Then your parents or guardian will pick you up on Saturday morning. When we sleep, we will split the area in two. One for the boys and one for the girls.”

"Is Elisa sleeping with us too?" A loud remark came from the left side of the class. You knew it was Paul, especially after the conversation you had around three weeks ago. He had been very harsh towards Elisa, before it was small remarks to his friends, but now it's more than that. There was a certain jealousy brewing in him after knowing how she was there to help you instead of him when you were ‘sick’ at prom. Laughter erupted from the class, making you frown at him and glance at Sammy as she shrugged.

You awkwardly shifted to the back of the class where Elisa sits with Fleur and Marie. Even with the loud chatter of the class, Elisa was staring at her empty table, fiddling with her pen. She was clearly lost in thought, her body drowning in an oversized gray hoodie. When you looked at the rest of the table, you caught Marie’s eye. Realizing she caught you staring at Elisa, you flinched and turned back immediately to the front of the class.

"Paul, try thinking of something creative next time." Mr. Nick glared at Paul, angry at the unwanted interruption. "There will be 5 teachers with you guys, and we will be awake at all times to make sure none of you do anything inappropriate, I know you guys are responsible enough to not do it.”

He took a deep breath, walking around to pass the consent forms. Since you and Sam sit at the front, you were the first to receive them.

"Will you go?" Your eyes quickly skimming over the words.

"Absolutely not." Sam joked, ripping the paper in half. You gasped, turning to look at the torn paper on the table.

"What the fuck, why?" You furrowed your eyebrows together at the mess, "oh my God it's literally 5 minutes into class and you're already acting up.”

"You think I'm acting up? Imagine how these boys would act at 2 at night. I'd rather jump off a cliff.” her head turning towards the boys’ tables, their voice looming over the class. “Look at that, they're already planning what they'll do to us when we sleep.”

“...what will they do to us when we sleep?” You hesitantly questioned, face flinching away from Sam knowing she'll probably start blabbering again.

“Are you crazy? What rhymes with grape?” She whispers shouts, her eyes glancing back at Xavi, the creepy kid of the class.

“Oh Sam, you can't just assume something like that!” You gasped at her accusation. It is true, Xavi was a complete weirdo to all the girls, but bringing up a big topic like that wasn't right. “Don't worry, I'm sure nothing will happen around the teachers and the girls.” You reassured her.

“Oh yeah, because Elisa's big, juicy, arms will save you from the bad guys.” she mocked, her body leaned closer to yours with a wink.

You looked back at the clean whiteboard, wishing to disappear. “Fuck off Sammy.”

Sam's cackle was loud enough for some of the students nearby to glance, making you kick her foot under the table and praying that Elisa didn't hear what she said.

Sam had been making jokes about Elisa after the prom conversation, she wanted you to feel relaxed around her and admit your crush. But you had made an obvious mistake (Sam knew this was a step closer for you to admit it), when you walked around the school’s football pitch at lunch on the first day of school after winter break.

You were watching the small matches played by the students when you surprisingly saw Marie on the sidelines. Knowing that she loves and plays the sport, you sat next to her with a bright smile and questioned why she wasn't there playing with the rest, and obviously her response was about the sexist boys. When you looked back at the pitch, you found Elisa between the boys. She clearly couldn't care less about what the boys were saying. She wore a sleeveless basketball jersey showing off her arm tan lines, and shorts long enough to reach her knees. It was obviously too cold for her to be dressed like that, but the afternoon sun and playing had helped warm her up.

The harsh sun caused her body to shine with sweat and caused her short hair to stick to her forehead. But what made your heart start to race is when she pushed Paul with a physical tackle, grass flying around them from the impact. Paul was grunting in pain on the ground, waiting for the whistle to blow. But Elisa wasn’t groaning in pain, she instead immediately pushed herself up from the ground, making her biceps bulge.

The boys called out for a yellow card, but all Elisa did was laugh at them and remind them of their comments beforehand about ‘girls being too weak to play football with them’. You quietly stood up and smiled at Elisa for fighting for her spot. You knew it was difficult for girls to argue with boys like them, and Elisa doing it shows her passion for the sport.

Elisa saw you smiling in the corner of her eyes, and when she turned to look at you completely, her face turned crimson red. She bit her lip and turned back to look at Paul on the ground, feeling a small sense of victory. Yes, I won her over.

You weren’t aware that Elisa had thought about this moment for too long too. It was unusual to see you acknowledge her, and she had begged for something to happen between you ever since the walk after prom. Seeing your beaming smile because of something she did made her brain shut down for a second. Especially after what happened at prom, she’s worried if she’s reaching for an inaccessible relationship.

Sam knew about this new fascination of Elisa’s arms in class that day, when you nudged her quickly and subtly gestured to Elisa with your head when she walked past the both of you to her seat. She gave you a confused look, mumbling a small ‘what’. But you pointed at your bicep, flexing your weak arm to show her what you meant. She turned around to glance at Elisa's arms for a second and turned back to look at you with a disappointed glance, making you shyly shrug with a simple ‘her arms are stronger than all of the boys here’.

And from that day, Sam has subtly brought up Elisa's arms in every discussion you have. At first it was funny, but nowadays it causes you to panic, feeling horrified at the idea of her knowing about your crush. 

“Each tent will have four people in them, there are enough students for four tents for boys excluding James since he’s on a trip now, but for the girls there is an extra girl. One of the groups will have to compromise and let her join, okay?” Mr. Nick's close voice caused you to jump out of your seat, waking you up from the daydreams again about elisa.

“Sir, I'm not going.” Sam raised her hand, causing you to glare at her.

“Perfect. Y/n, why don't you sit with the Powerpuff girls at the back.” His hand rested on your shoulder, one of the disadvantages of being his favorite student and sitting in front. You gave him a soft nod at his reassuring smile, bending down to pick up your bag.

You glanced back to Sam, whispering quietly, “I can't believe you're making me do this alone, we'll talk about this later.”

“You're sleeping with Ms. Buff arms, have fun.” She whispered back with a cheeky smile and a subtle wink, causing you to stop packing and gape at her for a second. You had completely forgotten about what all of this is for, realizing that out of every girl group in this class it's with them. You didn't have a problem with either Katoto and Fleur. But when it comes to Elisa, you cannot be sleeping in the same place as her.

You sighed audible, taking your backpack and walking to the back of the class. Grinning at Fleur and Marie as you sat in the empty seat of the four-seat table.

“Hey,” you whispered in the middle of the table, letting them know you've sat with them since both Marie and Fleur were sneakily on their phones and Elisa doodling on her notebook. Elisa hummed at your approach, not even glancing at you.

“I’ll bring the tent.” Fleur said looking up from her phone, glancing at you and the girls. You breathed out, at least one of them isn’t ignoring you and actually looked at you from them.

“Guys imagine bringing snacks and staying up all night? We have to do that!” Elisa suddenly gasped, she grabbed Marie's bicep since they were sitting next to each other. “Fleur, what type of snacks do you want?”

You felt a sudden energy of sadness in you, not used to the feeling of being left out. You knew she was not purposefully trying to ignore you, but it felt like shit. Your mind kept reminding you of her Facebook post, that all of the things both of you went through (which isn't much…and you knew it), was all friendly. And she doesn't think you are pretty enough for her to talk to you.

“I don't care, sour patch kids and cheetos but you can bring the whole store and I'll eat anything.” Fleur shrugged, her fingers awkwardly tapping on the table.

“I can get the snacks.” You finally spoke out, voice slightly cracking when Elisa looked into your eyes across from you. You turned to your left to check on Fleur, and she nodded with a satisfied ‘okay’. Elisa shrugged, writing on her notebook ‘snacks’ under your initials.

“I'll bring the sleeping-bags… I already have four from family trips.” Elisa awkwardly mumbled, writing the things she needed under her name. 

“Make sure Alex didn't shit on them, I don't want to take his.”

“Hell no I'm taking mine, you either take my parents’ or Alex's.”

“Fleur, take Alex's, imagine what her parents did on theirs.” Marie covering her face from Elisa with the palm of her hand as she ‘attempted’ to wink.

“Ew weirdo, they're literally divorced.” Elisa moved her body so she could see Marie’s face, but what she didn't realize is that she got really close to you by propping herself on the table with her hands, and sitting on her knees so she could move freely around the table and look at Marie. You panicked and pushed your seat slightly back, making Fleur notice and glancing at you for a second before turning back to them, “what are you gonna get?”

“I don't know… I'll get board games! Like Uno or something.” She exclaimed until she saw Elisa's disappointed face, “Okay fine I'll think of something else.”

The table went quiet, you looked around waiting for someone to say something. But Elisa just folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them to sleep.

You sighed as you look at the list,

“Elisa - sleeping bags

Fleur - tent

MAK - games?

Me - snacks Cheetos, sour patch kids, and anything”

While Elisa was sleeping, you kept glancing at her grown hair. You can't look at her for too long, or else you might end up having a meltdown. It bothered you that for the first time you had an actual crush, she doesn't even think you're pretty. A deep frown was stuck to your face, and you didn't care if Fleur, Marie or everyone in class noticed. All you wished is for her to see you the way you did.

Elisa wasn't sleeping, she did try to take a nap but her head kept distracting her. And the thought of you sleeping next to her is suffocating her. Would you wear a silk mini dress? Or a silly mickey mouse pjs? It doesn't matter, because she knew she would be a blushing mess no matter what you were wearing.

She was also thinking about what Marie and Fleur are gonna do. She knew that they liked playing risky games, what if they put the both of you together for seven minutes of heaven? Or dared you to kiss? They wouldn't do that. No way, right? What if when you watch a movie they force you and her to cuddle? She can't let them know the effects you have on her, because they would definitely try and set them up together.

“Eli stop being depressed, it's literally your birthday.” Fleur groaned out, reaching her hand to mess up Elisa's hair.

You glanced back at Fleur and then looked back to Elisa. Eli? Wait… maybe Fleur is the pretty girl she was talking about in that post. Or maybe they're just friends. You gave Samantha nicknames all the time! Sam, Sammy…it could be a friendly gesture, not a flirty one.

But your mind was lost, and the idea of them both going to prom reminded you that whatever relationship you want with her is never gonna happen…not when Fleur plays her hobby in the same academy as her and touches her hair and body all the time.

Elisa, or Eli, looked up with a fake animated pout, “stop… I already know you're gonna do something once we go training.”

Marie's head was pushed back from laughter, “should we put glue in her deodorant this time?”

“Ew! what the fuck?”

“I saw that from one of those DIY pranks on youtube.” She shrugged, tears rolling from her eyes looking at Elisa's horrified face.

You didn't say anything, feeling ashamed at not doing anything for her birthday. In your defense, you didn't know. But there was still guilt at the thought of bringing nothing for her. 

You were also feeling flustered, not at the gift part, but at the feeling that started blooming in you when looking at Elisa that way. The pouty face, the panicked, and the frustrated expressions. Even if Elisa was ugly crying with snot going down her mouth, you'd still be blushing. It was a lot for you, too much in a span of 5 minutes. It didn't help that Elisa's hair had grown and now looks like a bird's nest from Fleur's hand.

Fleur tugged Elisa's hand, “we're not gonna do that, we will probably get kicked out of the academy.”

Elisa shut her eyes and sighed loudly, “thank the lord.” Making the whole table softly giggle and go silent.

It was awkward, maybe for you only. So you took a risk, “Happy birthday Elisa, sorry I didn't get a gift…I didn't know until now.”

She looked up from her scribbles to you and gave you a small smile, “no worries, I'm not really expecting one from anyone in here anyways.”

“I'm pretty sure we can do something on camp day, right girls?” Maybe you can get her something on Friday, “like a mini party at night? Unless you guys have to sleep early for football, of course.”

Fleur looked at the girls at the table, having a silent conversation with their eyes only. Your hands were starting to feel clammy. Oh God, what if they're talking shit about me? What if I sound so desperate now?

“That's a cute idea, sure!” Fleur smiled at you, she looked back at Elisa, now having a suspicious face and glancing at everyone around the table, “we don't have training on Saturdays, we have a match on Sundays though. But it's okay, they're always in the afternoon or evenings so we don't have to wake up early.”

You turned to look at Elisa, but her eyes remained on Fleur next to you. Take a risk,  you reminded yourself, it worked last time.

You tapped her hand making her turn to look at you, “don't worry, no pranks. Just a small birthday party.” You gave her a smile.

Elisa looked at your eyes, it had been long since she had actually tried to maintain eye contact with your eyes (she was clearly blind not to notice the struggle isn't one-sided), her cheeks turned slightly pink, enough for you to smile even larger, “Ugh, thanks. I just want you to know that you really don't have to do all of that.”

“Why not? You know, in some places like Mexico and Latin America, they celebrate the 15th birthday like weddings! It's called quinceañera. They invite a lot of people and wear fancy dresses. It's sweet, and I know I don't have to do it, but I want to.”

Marie's eyes were wide as she gave a knowing look to Fleur, the table remained quiet for a few seconds as the both of them were communicating with their eyes.

Elisa was not just pink, she was red as a cherry now. She let out a giggle at what you said and just gave out a shrug, knowing if she tried to say something it would either be dumb or just a long minute of stuttering.

For the first time, it wasn't embarrassment or awkwardness that was filling you from this silence, it was hope. Hope that maybe there could be something that you can make from the relationship, especially after Elisa's blushing mess.

After a minute of praying that all of this would end, Elisa's prayers were answered when your teacher asked for everyone to move back into their seats.

When you sat back down next to Sam, she turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, “how was it?”

“Did you know it's Elisa's birthday today?” You quickly asked her, turning your body now to the front of the class since the lesson will actually start.

“No, are you doing something for her?” She asked, hoping you'd say something that will make her ‘theory’ true.

“Not now, but in camp I'm gonna get her something. What should I get her?” You remained facing the teacher as you replied.

Sam smiled, holding in her laugh, “I don't know…maybe football boots?”

You thought for a second before shrugging off what she said, “no, they're too expensive and I don't know her shoe size.”

“Hmm…I don't know, we'll figure it out later.”

You nodded at what she said before continuing writing the notes.

___

Your father sighed quietly when he saw the bill, “all of this? A cake? And a… what even is that?” He took a sip of the dark cup of coffee he had, staring at some old romcom show on TV.

“It's for the camp out thing, I told you before me and mama left,” You glanced at his distracted face, glad that the show is making him less angry than how he would've reacted without it. “It's a mini cake! For my friend's birthday. And that thing is a bracelet set, so I can make jewelry.” You calmly spoke out.

“Ugh fine, just let me know when you buy the whole store next time.” He groaned out, shrugging you off with his hand.

“Thanks, love you.” You bent down and kissed his head, running off to your room to pack your things.

You grabbed a gym bag, something your mom abandoned for years. And started filling them with essentials, pads, underwear, your hello kitty pj's that you weren't embarrassed by, some emergency products in case anything happened.

You brought another bag for all of the snacks, making sure the cake box is placed on top so it doesn’t get mushed. Turning around your room, you opened the bracelet making kit and stared at the beads. Would Elisa wear a bracelet? They aren’t a very feminine thing, and you were sure if you used masculine colors she would be okay with it.

The problem is that you were not sure if she would accept it from you. You weren’t close with her, why would she wear something you made her? She doesn’t even wear any jewelry in the first place! You rolled your eyes as you groaned loudly, dropping your body backwards on your bed. You knew you were overthinking it, but you really wanted her to like you. It felt like elementary days, where the kids would buy gifts for their classmates to gain a friendship.

Deciding to make her a black and white bracelet, the colors of a classic football and it was not ‘feminine’, something Elisa has avoided throughout the whole school semester.

After thirty minutes and an intense back stretch, you were finally satisfied with the product. You placed it in a small velvet bag, writing a small note in it that says ‘happy belated birthday, I don’t know if you like wearing jewelry like these, but I hope you would like this.’ You also decided to take the bracelet kit with you there too, maybe Marie or Fleur would want to make some at midnight.

___

It was already Friday, all of the students abandoning the teachers as they excitedly planned their evenings together. You were standing in the office, where the class kept their Camp Out equipment before classes started. It was already 4pm, and now you were meant to be moving to the park. You were shyly staring at your group, too scared to approach them. But Elisa turned around and spotted you, giving you a small wave so you could go there.

You grinned, giving her a wave back as you carried your three bags; your backpack, gym bag, and the beach bag that was filled with the snacks, “Hey, I brought everything here.”

Fleur turned to glance at you, “oh hey, thanks by the way.” She bent down and carried your things to the corner of the room.

“Oh, you don't have to do this. You're still injured!”

She shrugged you off, “don't worry about it.”

“Alright, let's move from the back door, walk across that football pitch, and go on that sidewalk.” The counselor called out.

You went down and carried your backpack, grabbing the other two heavy bags when Elisa's hand stopped you, “I got it.”

“You are already carrying 2 sleeping bags, it's okay.” You argued, but before you grasped the handles Elisa was already lifting them.

She turned to maintain eye contact with you, “It's fine.”

You nodded and followed the teachers. You were a few steps ahead from the other girls, but you were able to hear what they were saying.

“Yo, look at her back,” Katoto laughed out loud, “Elisa trying so hard to look strong.”

“Shut up!” Elisa whisper-shouted at both of the girls giggling. It was obvious that she was struggling with carrying the bags, but she wanted you to think of her as a strong girl.

You bit your lip, holding in the giggle that almost came out of you. The walk was long, and the bickering between the girls did not stop.

“Elisa, you're so strong, please come carry my things for me.” Fleur fake-groaned, obviously mocking Elisa's posture.

Marie was already in tears by now, clutching into her stomach from the pain. Elisa hoped that you couldn't hear any of the things they're saying or else she'd just die. But by the way your shoulders were vibrating, she knew that you had been laughing with them.

When the class reached the empty field, you went to the right side (the girl's section) and placed all of your things there. You looked at Elisa's red face, “thanks…you didn't have to carry all of them.”

Elisa threw everything roughly on the ground, her shoulders and back too damaged to care about the safety of the products inside your bag, “oh no…I'm fine.” She nodded towards you, twisting her torso and trying to stretch the pained muscle on her lower back.

You giggled seeing her like this and nodded back, going over to Marie and opening the big tent bag. While trying to stabilize the tent edge into the ground, you saw a shadow crouch down next to you, “Hey y/n… you can have my sleeping bag tonight.”

When you turned to look at your right, your face blushed at how close she was. Her eyes were burning yours, trying to see a reaction of discomfort from how close she is to you. But she found none, other than a slight shaky breath and pinkish cheeks.

“Are you sure? It's yours.”

Elisa placed her shaky hands on top of yours, tightening the fabric of the tent into the ground when she realized it was loose, “I can sleep in my mom's or dad's… I feel like it would be inappropriate of me to just give you theirs and not mine.”

“What about Marie and Fleur?” You asked, glancing at the both of them adjusting the other corners.

“Pfft who cares about them, they can sleep on the ground.” Elisa shrugged them off, making you laugh.

“Wow…I'm sure they would be disappointed at your loyalty.” You sarcastically gasped.

Elisa smiled shyly, getting closer to the point where your shoulders were sticking to each other, “oh please…our relationship is just us bullying each other.”

It was a minute of silence between you guys, the both of you not wanting to leave the other. It was until Fleur groaned out as she stood up, looking at the both of you ‘adjusting’ the corner and giving Marie a suspicious nudge.

Marie looked at the both of you and winked at Fleur, “guys let's put the things inside!”

The both of you quietly sighed in disappointment, standing up and grabbing all of the bags inside and organizing the place.

“Wow you brought all of these snacks?” Fleur gasped as she looked through the beach bag, “wait, what is that?”

She pointed at the cake box, “shh… that's Elisa's birthday cake.”

Fleur nodded as she got closer to the cake, “what flavor is it?”

“Chocolate with vanilla frosting,” You responded, “I felt like Elisa would like that…no?”

Fleur remained silent for a second before turning to look at Elisa, “Hey Elisa, isn't strawberry your favorite cake flavor?”

You huffed out and turned the other way, I guess she didn't hear me when I said ‘shhh’, you looked at Elisa as she gave Fleur a disgusted look, “ew no what the fuck?”

Fleur rolled her eyes in annoyance, “oh come on, is it too girly for you?”

Elisa glared at Fleur, “no it just tastes like anything but strawberries.” She laid down the sleeping bags in order before adding, “chocolate is my favorite, I thought you'd know this.”

Fleur turned and gave you a surprised look, “wow I guess y/n knows Elisa more than us.”

It was obvious Fleur was teasing the both of you, and the way Marie was smirking on the side didn't help Elisa's panic. Was her attraction that obvious? What if you think it's gross the way they're joking?

There was a moment of silence, Elisa glaring at both of her friends while you organized your stuff on the corner. A shadow came by the tent door, “Girls go out, we have some tasks for you!”

Marie gaped at the door, “I thought this camp was supposed to be fun!”

“Stop complaining and go out now!”

“Okay, miss!” You yelled out before rolling your eyes. Today is going to be a long day.

----

“Here is your pizza.” Elisa placed a cheese pizza next to you and sat there. You stopped touching the small cut on your toe and looked up, “hey, thanks.”

Elisa nodded, looking at the bloody toe you have, “I will get you a bandaid once we go to our tents, okay? I can clean up the cut too.”

You felt your cheeks turn hot at Elisa’s gentleness towards you. Instead of responding to her, you just gave her a shy smile and bit into your pizza.

Fleur and Katoto sat further away from the both of you. Usually, they would get jealous and frustrated at how Elisa is basically ignoring their existence. But you were an exception, especially when this is the first time they see Elisa this way with anyone. As well as, seeing you have a crush on someone… someone that’s a girl and their bestfriend.

Elisa wanted you to see her as a responsible person, someone that can help you whenever you need it. She carried your stuff, made your sleeping ‘corner’, helped you walk when you tripped over a rock and hurt yourself, gave you your dinner, and now offered to clean up your cut. She just hoped that it wouldn't overwhelm you, and maybe you’d realize that she is just an annoying, clingy person that doesn’t understand boundaries.

But you never complained, only looking down and avoiding eye contacts with a sheepish smile. There was some hope, that maybe you’d actually see her the way she sees you, and maybe you actually like girls. That’s a thought Elisa is currently trying to avoid, too afraid to hurt herself the more she thinks about it.

You took a few bites from the large pizza slice before turning to Elisa, “Hey… I got you a mini gift,” You placed your left hand into your pocket and pulled out the mini jewelry bag, placing it delicately into her palm. “I hope you like it.”

She smiled shyly as she tightly grasped it, “you didn't have to get me a gift.”

You avoided eye contact while taking a bite, “I know, but I wanted to.”

“Guys if you're done, get your pajamas and go back to the school building to change,” one of the teachers yelled out, “there are lights around the school so it won't be too dark.”

You turned to look at Fleur and Marie, signaling with your head if you should go now or wait. They nodded and slowly stood up, their legs too sore from sitting for too long.

You placed your left palm on the ground to push yourself up, but you saw Elisa standing up and reaching out for your hands. Everything was overwhelming you, she was too gentle and sweet with you. And it horrified you to know that all of this can be a friendly gesture, that all Elisa wants is some pretty girl that definitely wasn't you.

The group walked to the bathrooms with their clothes, Fleur and Marie changed in the same cubicle, claiming that they're making more space for others who want to change. Elisa went to one alone while you did the same, getting slight deja vu from the first week of school.

You were out first, braiding your thick long hair. Some of your other classmates were also in the restroom with you, so you decided to have a chat with them while you waited on the others.

“Augh fuck guys,” Elisa groaned out from her cubicle. Opening the door slightly with pink cheeks and a shameful look.

You looked worriedly, stepping forward to check if she hurt herself on something. But she shied away and hid herself from the door, “Hey Elisa…is everything okay?”

“Umm…yeah, I just got my period I guess.” She muttered weakly, too embarrassed at herself for not tracking the days or even bringing something with her.

“It's okay…do you want pads or tampons? I've got some stuff.” You whispered back, it's obvious she didn't want the others to know about it.

“Can I get a tampon?” She asked, opening the door slightly so you can hear her better.

But you froze, you didn't want to admit it but she looked precious this way. You thought that you've been strong this whole day, but seeing her vulnerable in front of you made you feel weak in the knees.

You nodded quickly, going to your bag and pulling out one. You rushed to the cubicle and handed it, “I'm gonna do something, just meet me at the tent, okay?”

She gave you a soft smile in gratitude and nodded, before shutting the door.

You took a heating bag from your never-ending bag and decided to go to the school kitchen, hoping it would be open and whoever is in there would allow you to use some of the equipment.

When you got in, you noticed one of the janitors. Thankfully, she was a sweet old lady that loved you. When you told her what happened, she gave you an understanding glance before pouring hot water into the bag you had.

When you reached the tent, you noticed all of them sitting in a circle. They were whispering into each other, and it seemed as though Elisa was embarrassed and frustrated with what they were saying. When she saw you at the door, she sat up, “she's here.”

“Hey guys, I had to go to the kitchen for this.” You raised the bag, and delicately gave it to Elisa.

She placed it on her lower stomach, croaking a small ‘thank you’. She was worried if you heard their previous conversation, since it was about you. Fleur and Marie were making comments about how Elisa ignored them the whole time they were here. Even when they were watching a movie, Elisa was near you in some way. That's how she came and helped you out when you fell, the memory of her catching you is still vivid in her mind, your body felt so soft in her arms. 

“Let's play truth and dare!” Fleur jumped to the ‘trash’ corner and grabbed one of the empty bottles.

“Nope, I'm not playing.” Elisa moved away from the group, going to her ‘corner’.

“Oh come on, what's wrong with playing this?” Marie groaned loudly, going over to Elisa to pull her back into the circle.

You were still standing by Elisa's now empty spot, too shy to sit down. What if they didn't want you to play with them?

“I know what you guys wanna do, and I'm honestly not in the mood for all of this.” Elisa snapped, slapping Marie's hand away from her, “especially now.”

You turned the other way, pulling out some book from your bag to read. You felt shame all over you, it's obvious that she doesn't want to play with them because you're around. You didn't understand, she was attached to you all day, and now she doesn't want to play with you?

Marie smacked Elisa’s hand again, pointing discreetly at your discomfort. She leaned into Elisa and whispered, “you’re making her feel sad…she thinks you don't want her to play with us.”

“That’s not why I don’t wanna play.” Elisa whispered back, watching you as you read some romance novel in your hand.

“But that’s what she thinks,” she tapped Elisa’s shoulder before going to the middle of the tent with Fleur. The both of them are curious on what Elisa would do to make you join.

Elisa groaned internally, she has been too affectionate with you this whole day. Would you be grossed out by her admiration and gentleness?

She slowly walked up to you, “hey… do you wanna play with us?”

You glanced up to look at her, “umm…if you want me to play with you.”

Elisa’s heart broke when she heard your voice crack from insecurity. She didn’t mean for this to happen, she just didn’t want to scare you off from Fleur or Marie’s questions, “of course we want you to play with us…c’mon.” reached out her hand for you to grab, and she felt her muscles relax when you placed your soft hands on hers.

When you both sat in the circle, she was next to you. Marie smiled at you, happy that you accepted to play with them, and spinned the bottle. It awkwardly stopped when the cap was pointing at Fleur, “hmm…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Fleur responded confidently, folding her arms on her chest.

“Okay…I dare you to like the first 5 posts of the first person that pops up on Facebook.”

Fleur glared at Marie, turning on her phone to see who would pop up, “Oh my God no…it’s my uncle. He’ll be so confused on why I’m liking posts from 2007.”

After many rounds of playing, Fleur’s bottle stopped at you. “Truth or dare, y/n?”

You paused for a second to think, considering the previous dares, you settled for truth.

“Umm…do you like Paul? We promise we won't tell.” 

“We're loners anyways we don't have anyone to tell us to.” Marie added, trying to make you more comfortable with them.

You remained silent for a few seconds, avoiding their eyes -especially Elisa's, “No, I don't like how he treats Elisa.”

Elisa perked up when she heard what you said. Flashbacks from prom night came crashing into her, 

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Was he talking about her? Did you care about her that much?

Elisa's cheeks were too pink to be ignored, Fleur smirked and decided to ask you another question, “so before Elisa was here, did you like him?”

You were still a little shaken at the question, “I don't think so…maybe a small crush I guess. I think I just missed our friendship more, since we knew each other since we were kids.”

They nodded, before agreeing that they should stop playing truth or dare and find another game. You were already exhausted, so you made it clear that you'll just head to sleep.

“But it's only 11,” Elisa pouted at what you said, disappointed that you won't get to spend time with her.

You were cleaning up around the sleeping bag to save up time from tomorrow morning. You peeped next to you and saw Elisa sitting there, “Hey again,”

She smiled at your voice and gave you a soft ‘hey’ back.

“I guess we should just talk before sleeping, yeah?” You teased her, feeling happy that you have company before sleeping.

“Yeah… I guess I wanted to just tell you that,” she paused, too lost in your eyes, making the conversation difficult for the both of you, “...you don't have to avoid Paul because of what he's doing to me.”

You frustratingly shook your head, “no Elisa. He's rude and annoying, I don't like people like that,” you looked down at your hands as you whispered the last part, “I just want a sweet, gentle…person who wouldn't mock or laugh at people”

Elisa nodded in understanding, before leaning down to meet your eyes, “Okay…I get it.”

You were grateful at the comfortable atmosphere you guys have, but a question was running in your mind as you bit your lip in thought, “Hey Elisa…I have a question,”

Elisa heard your timid voice, scooting closer to you to the point of your shoulders touching, “Yeah?”

“I know you like women,” you admitted quickly, looking at her eyes to see if there is any discomfort.

She grinned before replying, “one, that's not a question. That's a statement. Two, I think everyone knows that.”

You exhaled slowly when you realized she isn't uncomfortable with you knowing. And a slight blush came into your cheeks as you realized that she does like girls. Elisa likes girls! “umm… I didn't want to assume! After prom, I felt guilty for making you walk home alone so I went into your Facebook to check if you're okay and found a post that said something like… ‘I wish I knew how to talk to pretty girls.’... I guess I just connected the dots.”

Élisa's eyes widened, “wait…my Facebook account isn't private?!”

You quickly shook your head, mumbling a quick ‘nope’.

“Oh… I guess I have to change that. But oh well,” she shrugged on the last part.

Elisa can see you stare at her, and a feeling of panic started rising in her chest.

“Did your barber go on a holiday or are you trying a new haircut?” You joked, pointing at Elisa's longish hair now. It was covering her forehead and swooped to her right.

She laughed at what you said, raising her hair to make sure it looks neat, “I wanted to try something new.”

“It looks like Justin Bieber… you know the haircut. I don't know about the voice.”

She gave you a fake offended look, before replying, “well…do you think Justin is cute?”

You bit your lip in thought, “no…blonds aren't my thing.”

Elisa's eyes were locked with yours, she was starting to breathe heavily. Something in her is telling her that this conversation isn't just a random one, it means something. “What about brown haired people?”

Swallowing your spit before subtly biting your lip teasingly, “you mean brunettes?”

Elisa embarrassingly nodded, hoping that she doesn't look desperate waiting for your response.

“Brunettes are my type, yeah.” You gave her a grin, waiting for what she would do next.

“Good,” Elisa responded, involuntarily moving her hand to play with her hair again, “what about eyes?”

You blushed deeply, “I like brown eyes…soft and sweet to look at. Sometimes blue or green eyes are just too…sharp? Harsh? I don't know.”

Elisa hummed in agreement, turning her body slightly to glance at Marie and Fleur. She wanted to signal to them that maybe something is happening between you guys. But both of them were too busy playing Uno.

“Who do you find pretty, Elisa,” you breathed out, making Elisa turn to look at you in a flustered state, “what's your type in girls?”

Elisa clenched her jaw tightly while thinking. What was she supposed to say? That you're exactly her type? “I like brun- brunettes too. I like girls that are soft spoken and delicate, that care about others,” she was lost in thought as her fingers were playing with your bracelet, “long hair…I like it when they have long hair.”

You on the other hand were trying not to scream or run away. You didn't want to think highly of yourself, but that sounds like you right? You distractingly reached out for your long braid, waiting for Elisa to stop playing with her fingers and look at you.

When she didn't, you decided to ask her another question, “how did your parents react?...I mean if you came out.”

Elisa turned to look at you, “I didn't have to come out. I've always been this way,” she scratched her neck, “I mean… I never had long hair, always wanted to do the same thing as my brother. And I also had this obvious crush on a girl in my class when I was like 5 years old, they knew all about it.”

You nodded, “I can't imagine you with long hair.”

Elisa laughed, “I can't imagine myself with long hair, it would be a disaster.”

“So…are you bisexual, or a lesbian?”

Elisa eyebrows furrowed, how did you even know these terms? They weren't something you hear a lot in public, “I can't ever like a man…they're just ‘eh’.”

You giggled before scooting closer to her, “Okay.”

Elisa thought for a moment, “why do you like boys?”

You shrugged with a pout on your face, “I don't think it's a choice you know. But for now…I don't like any guy.” 

Elisa's body physically relaxed as she exhaled. Hearing that you don't like a guy right now made her feel hopeful, “Well…who from the class is the closest to your type?”

You rolled your eyes before crawling to the door and zipping it open, “I wonder what are they doing right now,” you stuck your head out, the cool wind making the small baby hair around your head fly. Elisa pulled the tent door more open to stick her head next to you too.

From the dim lights of the school and the moonlight, a slight shadow was seen from the ‘boys’ side of the pitch. It was clear the boys were wrestling, so Elisa made a joke, “wow, they're fucking already?”

You gasped loudly as you gaped at Elisa. She guiltily looked away from you with a quick, “sorry.”

You cackled before staring at the shadows again, “you know what? They're already shirtless.”

Her body relaxed near you and continued staring at them, “Ugh, they're so gross.”

“I don't even understand how they're shirtless in this weather.” You shivered at the thought of being naked in the weather.

Elisa turned to look at your thin t-shirt and whispered to you, “are you cold?”

You looked down at your shirt, “oh no…I'm fine.”

Elisa can read the lie in your face, she rolled her eyes as she started to remove the black jacket she was wearing over her plain gray shirt, “I can see you y/n,” she handed it to you, “it's January I don't know what you were thinking.”

You groaned in embarrassment, “they said this January would be hot! That's why they moved Camp Out to today…it was usually in March,” you wore her jacket, “it seems that I'm always cold around you.”

“And I'm always there to warm you up.”

You blushed as you shifted your body to face her, she smiled and did the same as now the both you were right in front of each other, “feeling cold isn't the only feeling I have around you.”

Elisa's eyes widened, she hopes that maybe you're referring to romantic feelings. She leaned in closer, looking deeply into your eyes, “what feeling?”

You sighed as you leaned in closer, “Elisa…you know it.”

Elisa smiled in satisfaction, internally thanking Mr.Nick for placing you in her camp group, “what? Feeling sad?”

You rolled your eyes, “no.”

Elisa sarcastically hummed in thought, getting closer to you as your foreheads were touching, “what feeling?”

You let out a huff, it's either now or never. Your eyes fluttered close and you leaned in to kiss her. Elisa barely felt your lips, it was obvious that you were nervous. But even with the softest touch, Elisa's eyes were automatically shut close as she exhaled from her nose.

You leaned back before muttering, “I hope that shows you what feeling.”

Elisa's smile was bright, she got closer to you before whispering, “I think I need more to clarify.”

She leaned in and captured your lips, this time it was a firm kiss. Elisa placed her palm on the back of your neck as she tried to deepen the kiss, but you shyly backed away.

Elisa would've felt offended if she hadn't seen your flustered state, she kept her hand on your neck as she waited for you to speak.

“Sorry…that was my first kiss, I got nervous.”

Elisa smiled in understandment, she knew the feeling too. Her reddish cheeks and shaky hand on your neck showed everyone around her that she was struggling to keep calm.

“It's my first kiss too.”

There was a moment of silence as the both of you were smiling at each other. You shakenly placed your hand at the back of her neck, softly tugging and playing with her hair.

Elisa's eyes closed as she sighed loudly, “I thought for the longest time that you didn't like me,”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “what? How?”

“...you were talkative to everyone but never talked to me.”

Elisa's insecurity was shown from her timid voice. You frowned in disappointment, “I never meant it that way…I guess I was too shy around you.”

Elisa lightly cuddled her head onto your shoulder. She was too shy to face you after the kiss, “Do I make you nervous?”

You lightly slapped her head, “dude you literally just said that I talked to everyone except you.”

Elisa gasped as she fake-glared at you, “don't ‘dude’ me!”

You sarcastically rolled your eyes and pushed her shoulder away from you, “whatever, I’m going to sleep now,” you covered yourself under the sleeping bag and closed your eyes, before whispering “goodnight.”

Elisa had a beaming smile, she leaned closer to your silhouette and gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, “Goodnight y/n…I don’t think I can sleep after this but I’ll try.”

With a soft smile, you fell asleep almost immediately. It felt like a heavy weight just dropped from your shoulder. Everything is different now, and you knew it too. You didn’t know what would happen in the morning or how things would work out with her, but it didn’t matter right now. The feeling of Elisa’s lips was still lingering on yours, and if you licked your lips you’d be able to taste the vanilla chapstick she always uses.

Elisa remained sitting next to your sleeping bag, she was heaving quietly from the shock of everything. Is this a dream or a joke? The idea of you being gay and liking her is making her internally jump in joy. She turned to Marie and Fleur, but the both of them were gaping at her. Fleur had a smirk while Marie had a look of disgust.

Elisa speed-crawled to the both of them, grabbing the Uno cards from their hands and shuffling them, “did you guys see that?”

“Yes?!” Fleur exclaimed, she smacked Elisa’s arm in a joking manner, “I can’t believe she’s gay…and she kissed you!”

“Shhh… guys I’m panicking, what am I gonna do?”

“Take it slow, we have around 4 months before the summer…If you’re not so annoying, you guys can date and when we have the U-17 tournament, she can come there with us and be like Victoria Beckham…absolute WAG.” Marie made a gesture with her hands for the girls to see the vision. But Elisa slapped them away, “You’re thinking of that summer tournament while I’m thinking of our first date. Marie, you’re so fucking useless oh my God.”

“okay…Elisa calm down,” Fleur intervened, she glanced back at your sleeping silhouette, “Eli…not to ruin your mood, but who says she’s gay? This could be some sort of phase or an experiment for her since you’re the first masculine girl she probably ever saw.”

Elisa’s smile dropped at what Fleur said, “That can’t be…she kissed me first.”

“Okay? She might be confused with her emotions.”

Elisa sighed loudly as she dropped her face to her hands, rubbing her face roughly, “It’s okay…we’ll take it slow. And if she doesn’t like me that way, she can tell me.”

Fleur gave her a tight-lipped smile and pulled her in for a hug, “yeah, that would be great.”

[notedchampagne]

Bro the 6th familial relationships fuck me up so much like the weird Juno and Pal more of a mentor than a mother vibes? And it seems like from Dr Sex that her and Pal's dad are either divorced or just straight up had nothing to do with each other until the genomics department decided they should have a child together?? Like imagine you're a ruthless academic career-woman and one day you get an email from the government like 'congrats! You're a mother!' And they hand you a fresh vat baby that is half you and half your co-worker that you talked to one time at the Christmas party like??? I don't think I would have the most healthy relationship with that child either tbh

And Cam! Earlier in Nona when Pal and Pyrrha are talking about going to the park it is only Kiki that he mentions she might want to save, no mention that apparently both her parents are there too? Her entire family is on the line here. Then she doesn't want her dads to see the Paul transformation because they "wouldn't understand"? You just know there's some long running disagreement there with how far she's yoking herself in with Pal. Do you think they secretly resent him? Did this cause a rift in their family? And what did the conversation look like before or after the transformation? Did Cam tell them she was about to die? Or did they turn away for five seconds and she finally killed herself for her obsessions behind their back? Who broke the news to them? (Who is going to break the news to Pal's dad?) The whole thing just makes me insane!!!!

Also apparently there is some incredible nepotism going on in the 6th oversight body here (or maybe everything is nepotism on the 6th lol)

YOU GET ME i love the 6th house so so much the way the house functions both as a united family w their genetics & a university with the academic quibbling is so fun to me- the sixths weakness was described as "A sprawling organization of erratic loners, the Sixth are chaotic by nature and terrible at collective action." which is 1) hilarious. palamedes is the peoples marxist princess 2) just generally fascinating as a whole. if we take that at face value and consider the 6th house as populated by genius loner nerds, it actually makes sense that they prioritize sending out attractive people to diversify the gene pool - with reference to your statement: dr sex provided a nice handful of evidence that while palamedes and juno have a formal dynamic, theyre affectionate enough that they seem close (at most, to the extent of some gay kid and their favorite english teacher) but seeing juno like a distant mentor is most likely right

taking on more quotes from dr sex, i think its most likely that the Sixth house encourages child bearing / raising through subsidies and an extended work leave of sorts:

Palamedes said, “Enjoying parenting. Enjoying the parenting buyout, I should say. He’s only doing dissertation supervision—and half a year of Immediate History, of course—but he’s got his own projects on the go.”

alexandrites and nireids might be required to go offworld to flirt and have children (i think i came across another post floating somewhere noticing kiki and cam were half-sisters, implying their parent was one of the mentioned) but for residents staying in the sixth house, they probably have about 3-7 other people they could possibly produce children with outside of consanguinity. although forcing them to have children by way of vat birth etc etc is entirely possible in Hell Empire a lot of them probably gave in just for a few years of parental & academic benefits.

one last point - sixth house children canonically live in a dormitory! so if you consider a professor going on paid leave to raise children while doing their own projects for about 7-9 years, then going back to work while their children are sent to a dorm to do nothing but study and train with other peers their age, it falls together so perfectly bro. it makes so much sense. of course pal and cam are nice to their parents but rarely ever close - they were most likely raised and taught communally! god i love worldbuilding

[am3li420]

Remus Lupin head canons i’ve been collecting for 10+ years

- this hoe loves books, i know that’s a common head canon but let me dive deeper;

- he definitely is checking out matilda level amounts of books from the library every week before going to hogwarts.

- homeschooled by his mother 100% and she would make him write book reports so he learned to love annotating books

- cut to lily seeing him writing in a book in 1st year and being absolutely disgusted but eager to make friends so she asks him his favorite books and authors.

- remus goes on like an hour long tangent about tolkien and c.s. lewis and how much he loves fantasy and how he’s so excited he gets to be at hogwarts because it’s so close to his escape from his lycanthropy as a child.

- lily tells him all about literature and they start a book club right then and there.

- remus also studied piano from his mom as well, and then eventually when she couldn’t teach him anymore his parents saved up to pay for a teacher.

- he loves his piano teacher and over summer breaks goes back and takes lessons

- bonds with sirius because of this as sirius had to learn violin to become a “well rounded heir”. they play duet covers as entertainment for gryffindor parties and everyone fucking loves it.

- eventually mary joins in and plays guitar and they have a cute little peter paul and mary vibe going on.

- remus is so outspoken, and truly always the first to be informed on politics or news

- was very forthcoming on his views about the war, along with james and sirius. i believe remus was the most “radical” of them though, and wanted freedom/ equality for all creatures not just wizards.

- he also felt unease at the ministry and wanted systematic changes as well as wanting to fight against voldemort.

- extremely distrustful of dumbledoor towards the end of the war, and it caused division between him and sirius until the second war when sirius realized remus had been right.

- remus had a magical proclivity for defense, and was a great dueler. the only person who he was evenly matched with in his class was sirius. they often fought to draws. they absolutely keep count of their wins.

- remus, lily, and mary all collectively give james and sirius their music tastes. they have new records every time they come home from break.

- remus is absolutely a stoner and loves smoking joints, reading, and listening to music during his free time.

- him and sirius smoke together sometimes but remus smokes a lot more than sirius because it really helps him with his chronic pain and depression.

- oh remus rolling a joint is like the most sexy thing anyone has ever seen. sirius frequently uses those memories for….personal time.

- remus uses an expansion charm under his bed and grows his own weed, eventually becomes hogwarts resident dealer and always puts freebies in his deliveries

- the freebies include:

- little drawings made by sirius

- chcocolates

- sometimes if he’s hanging out with marlene and has to deliver an order she’ll draw a tarot card for the person and write down a little reading for them!

- remus’ own handmade stickers!

- yeah he’s everyone’s favorite drug dealer seriously 10/10.

- he operates this all under minnie’s nose and is forever smug about getting away with it.

- i could probably think of a million more because i just love him so much but ive been hitting my pen while writing this so i’m gonna go make a snack!!!

[laurentidal]

Lauren 3.0

The bitch is back! Sorry I went AWOL for a while there. A lot came at me all at once and I had something of a breakdown but I'm back and improved and hoping to reconnect with the friends I made last fall!

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be... This is an erotic hypnosis themed blog that will occasionally rant about rocks and radiation. As such it is strictly MINORS AND FAR-RIGHT WEIRDOS DNI.

I'm absolutely 100% open to new friends and roleplay so DM me whenever you please, so long as you respect the yuck and yum list:

I know a lot of my old posts are still floating around here untethered from my old blog. I may start reposting the here to bring some traffic back in so if you start seeing double, it's not from staring too long at the pretty spirals, it's just me.

And, if you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

Navigating my page:

My Stories =========================

All Stories | Reposts of my old stories

Dynamics: Female Dom, Female Sub, Male Dom, Male Sub

Fetishes: Accidental, Breast Enlargement, Cheating, Clowns, Exhibitionist, Feet, Free Use, Incest, Intox, Lactation, Office, Paranormal, Serial Recruitment, Teacher

My Series =========================

SUNDA SYSTEMS STORY LINK

The Farm: 1

Golden Sun: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Greenhampton House: 1 - 2 - 3

Hotel Dupin: 1 - 2

Paul the Bully: 1 - 2 - 3

Ride Share: 1

Viral Marketing: 1 - 2

Other Stuff =========================

Me Being Me: Ramblings, Answering Questions, Roleplay Scenes, Inspiration

Things I Like: All Time Favorites

Art, Clips, Spirals, Favorite Stories, Mantras, Recommendations

Crushes: Women (Curvy Women), Men, Trans

Kinks: Lactation, Clowns

[jakeyt]

Something

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, Jake's Les Paul gives you an idea.

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: fluff <3; cursing; sexually explicit content (18+, MINORS DNI); light dom/sub; oral sex (m + f receiving); unprotected penetrative sex

a/n: so, i was watching gvf's pinkpop performance of wod/highway tune yesterday (my personal fav) . . .and i got a filthy idea. i couldn't get it out of my head, so 6,700+ words later, here we are. this is the first smut i'm putting on here, so i'm admittedly very nervous. 🥲

if there is some possible way you haven't heard 'something' by the beatles, i would give it a listen while you read :)

thank you to @joshym for always proofreading/editing. ily <3

i hope this filth is received kindly lmao <3

🌧️🎶

Something

It was a lazy morning in the middle of spring. The flowers that you were watering right outside your home were in full bloom. The sight made you happy, and the strumming on the guitar that you heard through the open window made your heart flutter. A small smile was fitted to your face.

Life couldn’t get any better. 

The guys were on a slight break from their recent touring, giving you ample time with your boyfriend, Jake. 

You missed him terribly when he was gone on tour. Though, you had decided years ago when you’d started dating, that you didn’t want to live your life only to follow him along wherever he went. You wanted him to have his own time. Time to himself, with his brothers, to live out his passion. And had made the decision for yourself, too — you couldn’t abandon your own life plans like that.

You had dreamt forever of being a teacher, and you loved your students too much to leave them behind. And Jake loved that about you. He wanted you to be able to have the career you’d wanted for so long, just as he had his. His appreciation for your career only encouraged you more to stay behind and do what you loved. 

But these moments? You wished life was different. You wished you were living in a timeline where the two of you could always be together. 

The sounds he made while playing his guitar soothed you. He was playing some of your shared favorites on his guitar, making butterflies erupt. He knew how much music meant to you, just as it did him.

He loved that you two shared the understanding that there was intimacy like no other in music. These melodies you heard made it so clear that he was communicating to you through the melodies. Different tunes took you through untouchable moments in time. Moments the two of you had so sweetly shared. 

The thunder that rolled in the clouds above you shook you slightly from your love-struck thoughts. You peeked up to see the sky. In your daze, clouds had started to gather above. When you’d come out an hour or so ago, the sky was mostly blue, only a few clouds littering. 

The rain started coming quicker than you could cooperate with. You ran to the spout to turn off the hose water, and as you turned it off, you realized you left the hose itself draped across the lawn. 

Dammit. Now you’d have to go back around the house to gather it all up. You wished you had grabbed it when you came to the spout. As you smashed your feet though the grass that only seemed to continually grow wetter and wetter by the stomp, you turned the corner to come back to the front of your house. 

You had no choice but to halt your steps, colliding with a hard chest. You almost slipped in the wet grass. You looked up to the person in front of you, already knowing it was Jake. 

Your eyebrows scrunched. “Go back in! You’re going to get wet,” your voice elevated as the rain seemed to start coming down even harder. 

You were already completely drenched, your hair heavy on your head, just as the clothes on your body. You watched him bite his lip. Hooded eyes scanned over you, stopping at your tank top, where your nipples were completely hardened underneath.

He blinked away the lust in his eyes and got back to the topic at hand.

“Babe,” his voice was also loud. “I’m already soaked,” he laughed, looking down to his partially-open button down. The rain was creating perfect droplets on his tanned chest. One of his toned pecs flexed slightly at the feeling of it. Your thighs tightened at the sight of it, a jolt at your core. “Just go inside, let me finish this.” 

You then looked down to where his hand had moved slightly and noticed the hose was in his grip. Tears then grew in your eyes at the sentiment. 

“Jake,” your tone was one of complete adoration, for more reasons than one. 

He was already wrapping the hose around his arm. He had a small smile on his face when he repeated, “Go. Inside.”

Your cheeks flushed and your bare feet shuffled to move past him, slipping slightly in the grass. From behind you, you heard him shout, “Baby, please be careful!” 

🌧️🎶

You continued to heed his advice and moved with balanced steps on the hardwood floors of your home. The soles of your feet were daring to slip. 

You glimpsed the living room. You saw how he’d laid his acoustic guitar on the chair. It was odd to find it out of its case, or away from a stand. He’d obviously put it  down in a rush to help you as soon as the rain had started. 

Your heart springed in your chest, just thinking of the way he was. 

You were moving to put the guitar in its case or on the stand, when the sounds of your wet clothing made you think better of it. 

You were sloshing and dripping everywhere you went. You could hear your clothes and the slaps of the water falling to meet the floor. It wouldn’t be much of a repayment for you to soak one of his prized possessions, now would it? 

You decided to continue on to the master bathroom. Your skin was beginning to crawl at the feeling of your sticky clothing and heavy hair. 

You flipped on the shower and as it seemed to instantly fog the bathroom (yay, warm water), you hastily stripped your shorts and tank top.

🌧️🎶

A while later, you were drying your hair in the bedroom and he was taking his shower in the master bath. 

Once your hair was dry enough for your liking, you rolled the cord around the base of the dryer and put it away. 

You rolled the sleeves to the sweatshirt you’d chosen to wear. You were now at a loss for what to do on a rainy day. 

You sat on your shared bed. Your eyes traveled around the bedroom. Then, they landed on his worn red Les Paul, sitting so prettily on the stand. 

Suddenly, an idea entered your mind that you simply couldn’t shake. Your cheeks flushed at the thought.

A sly smirk graced your features, and you had to cross your legs at the thoughts you were having. 

You suddenly knew exactly how you wanted to spend your rainy day. 

🌧️🎶

You waited a while to bring the idea up to Jake. You thought it would entice him, but bringing up new ideas for the bedroom could be slightly daunting to you. 

You knew he loved everything you’d thought to do up until this point, but this one involved his first love. You were intimidated to bring his Les Paul into the bedroom, but you just had to try what was now settling in your mind. 

You hoped he’d be okay with it. 

A movie was rolling on in the background as the two of you sat, curled up on the couch. The rain still pitter-pattered against the roof and windows. You were so comfortable, legs strewn over him, one of his hands going back and forth between your thighs, massaging the tops of them.  

Your hand played in his long hair. Jake was scrolling through Pinterest, scheming what he wanted to make for dinner. His lips smooshed together and shifted back and forth as he pondered. 

The way he expertly rubbed your thighs, the fullness of his pink lips, and the mustache that sat on his upper lip was making your tummy do somersaults. 

These simple things, along with your guitar thoughts, had your core quivering for more.  

It was now or never. 

“So, babe,” you halted your movements in his hair. Your hands came to rest in your blanket-covered lap. 

You connected eyes with him, and his lips pouted, “Why’d you stop?” 

You sighed, moving your legs so that you were sitting criss-cross underneath the blanket. When you moved, his hand had fallen from your legs. His bottom lip jutted out even further. 

“Jake,” you started again, fiddling with a loose blanket thread. “How would you— I was thinking—,” you huffed. Just spit it out. “Would you be okay with—. Ugh.” 

“Sweetie,” he laid a hand on your thigh again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His phone clicked off, and he scooted up from his spot, turning to look at you directly. “It’s just me.”

You looked in his eyes. “Earlier, I thought of something,” you turned your body to face him more. “A new idea for the bedroom.”

His eyes blinked at the subject. “Oh, yeah?” His lips quirked. “You know I’m always down for new ideas.” 

You grew some confidence at him reminding you of what you already knew about him. “You know how music is so important to us both,” he nodded, a sweet grin gracing his full lips at the fact. “Well, I was thinking . . .how would you feel about playing your guitar?” His eyes were questioning. You continued, “While I. . . While I blow you?” 

He started coughing on a breath he drew. You looked up to see his eyes watering as he struggled to breathe. You patted at his back. The smallest tear escaped his eye and he got up from the couch. 

You followed him to the kitchen where he opened the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of water. 

He took a long swig from the bottle. And when he released one more cough after that drink, he took another. 

He came towards you, meeting you at the island in the middle of the kitchen, eyes still watering. “I’m sorry, that was just—.” He shook his head, “It was just.”

You stepped back, nerves creeping all over again. “Oh,” You cast your eyes downward. “Okay. I totally get it. That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up. I know that involving the guitar probably wasn’t the best ide—.”

You felt his hands grip your shoulders, your head coming up. You blinked at him. “Baby,” he gave a huff of a laugh. “That is the complete opposite of how I feel about the idea. I think it’s a fucking brilliant idea.”

Your eyes grew bigger. You stepped closer to him, “Really?”

“Sweetie,” his eyes were soft again, consoling your fading worries. “The woman I love most sucking my dick while I play the guitar?” He draped his arms around your waist, bringing your front to his. You could feel a familiar hardness against your hip.

“There’s some rules, though,” you let the feeling pressed to your hip encourage you further, pushing into it. He groaned at the move. “You would have to play a song of my choosing,” you paused. “One you know, of course. But. . .,” You looped your arms around his neck. “If you mess up —if one chord is even slightly off . . . I'll stop.”

His cock pulsed against you. “Holy shit,” he breathed. 

He scooped his hands underneath your ass and sat you on top of the island. His voice was low and sultry when he said, “Am I totally naked while I’m playing?” 

You hadn’t even thought of how naked he’d be behind the instrument. You felt your shorts get wet at the thought, having spared your underwear after the shower.

“Oh yeah,” your tone dripped with lust. You laced your legs around his waist, bringing him as close as he could come to you. “And you have to play it laying on your back. In this plan, we’ll be on the bed.”

“Sounds like a good challenge,” he smirked. Then, he seriously asked. “Electric or acoustic?”

“Electric.”

His brown irises were the darkest you’d seen them in a long time. Your skin heated at his look. You didn’t have time to think as he dove in and crashed his lips to yours. Your pussy flexed at the action. 

The urgency behind his kiss caused you to fly straight back. Your shoulders would have hit the counter hard if he hadn’t strategically placed his arms to be a cushion for your back. 

He dipped his tongue between your lips, and massaged your own tongue with his. He licked at every part of your mouth, wanting to taste you. You could only hope you tasted as good as he did. He tasted like his minty fresh toothpaste. Any time Jake showered, even if it was mid-day or late at night, he brushed his teeth. It was almost like a ritual for him. You loved his attention to hygiene.

He took his mouth from yours and started kissing a wet trail down your neck. He licked a trail from your collarbone all the way to your jawline and you lustily whined for the duration of the action. 

“My love,” he said into your ear. He then went behind your ear and nipped at the sensitive skin. “I want to hear you as much as I can. Be loud.”

He then completely abandoned your upper half, your legs falling from his hips. He knelt in front of you to rip away your sweatshorts. 

You felt his warm breath against your thigh, in contrast to the open air hitting your naked center. He hotly said, “No underwear?”

“Nope. It didn’t align with my plan.”

“You would be correct, sweet girl,” his breath was soothing steam against your sticky heat. His hands grabbed the undersides of your thighs, kneading the flesh. 

And then you felt his tongue go completely flat at your slit. He licked a precise stripe up the center of your folds. From the very bottom of your pussy to right above your clit, he’d added a healthy amount of wetness. 

You groaned, earning you a few more expert slides of his tongue, back and forth over the same area he’d treated before. Though, the more he went, the sloppier they got. It always went this way: the wetter and louder you were, the less meticulous he became. 

He couldn’t ever seem to concentrate, with how your sounds and reactions affected him. He always said that the way you reacted to sex sent shockwaves to his mind. Nothing else could make him go so wild.

Hence the fun of your idea.

He gripped your thighs, bringing them down closer to him. And before you knew it, he was balancing your bare legs on his shoulders, standing up with his arms wrapped around your back. He was keeping you steady as he moved you both to the bedroom. 

His mouth didn’t leave your heat for even a second. 

The trek wasn’t long, or else you’d have been out of sorts worried about causing his shoulders and back irreparable damage.

And he didn’t give you much time to think as he placed your backside delicately on the bed, sitting up. He rose from how he’d had to kneel to sit you down, opting to strip you of your oversized sweatshirt. 

Your breasts immediately flared with goosebumps at the change in temperature. The cool air forced your nipples into even harder peaks. The way he was looking at them made your cheeks warm. 

“I just love your fucking body,” he knelt down in front of where you sat and held a breast in each hand. He massaged the flesh. The rough tips of his fingers that accompanied the gentle, knowing touch elicited a moan out of you. 

He grinned, then rubbed his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. “You like the way I touch them, huh, baby?” 

He flicked his eyes up to yours and winked. He knew how much you loved the stimulation of your breasts. You threw your head back when he licked his way around your right nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. You had to look down to see him work his mouth over you. 

Watching his mouth work tirelessly at your nipple made you buck your hips up with want for more. 

And somehow the desperate action made you remember the objective at hand. As much as you wished for him to continue, you pushed Jake back by his shoulders. You weren’t supposed to be the vulnerable one. 

His eyes were equal with desire and disappointment at the loss of contact with your body. 

“No, Jake,” you firmly stated. You stood up on shaky legs, moving around him. “The objective is not me. It’s about you, your Les Paul, and your dick in my mouth.”

He eyed you from his place, still on the floor. But you could see the slight twitch in his flannel pajama pants. “But I wanted you to feel pleasure, too, baby.”

You bent on a shaky knee to meet him, “Sweetie, making you happy will bring me pleasure.” 

His eyebrows dipped. “But you won’t—.”

You came up from your knee. You gazed down at him, then held a finger up. “Stop. I’m in charge.”

He looked your entire figure up and down and then raised his eyebrow at you, “Yes ma’am.”

He stood up, coming close to you, though you held a hand up for him to not come too close. It might have looked like you were doing it out of dominance, but you were really doing it to keep him far enough away that roles wouldn’t reverse. He held so much sex in his pinky alone, and you wanted the upper hand.

“If you pass the test, we have sex. And for me, having you inside of me is what gets me off best,” you lifted his self-cropped gray t-shirt over his head. His silver pendant necklace connected with his tanned skin. You were stern with him and placed your hands on his chest, “That’s why it’s imperative you don’t falter.”

You traveled down to the waist of his pants and hooked your fingers into the waistband, slowly dragged them down.

His thick length sprang up as soon as the pants moved past it. The sight of the glistening pre-cum at his smooth, pink tip made your mouth water. 

You were glad to see he wasn’t wearing underwear. Around the house, he rarely wore underwear if he was in comfy clothes. 

You stayed where you were, appreciating just how neatly groomed he always was. You hadn’t forgotten how attentive he was to it, but seeing it again? It made your stomach flame up.

His cock pulsed as you looked at it. You felt your own arousal father at the sight.

“Oh, Jakey,” you cupped his sac, holding it softly in one hand. You were not going to touch his cock yet. He’d have to wait. He whimpered at the feeling of your hand, playing with his balls. “You like that, baby?”

You looked up from where you had kneeled in front of him, his eyes were clamped shut. His head was thrown back, per usual at your attention to his lower region. He hummed an agreeing response. 

“No, no,” you took your hand away. “This is practice time, baby. Rehearsal,” you skated your hands over his bare thighs as you lifted up to stand with him. “If you can’t even keep it together when I’m holding your balls. . .I’m worried about how you’re going to do when my mouth is doing the work.” 

He blinked his eyes at you a few times. His eyebrows turned in, he pleaded. “Babe, I’ll do better,” he leaned in and gave you a small kiss. He brushed your hair behind your ear. “Please?”

Your stomach fluttered at his devotion to the task. “Go get your guitar,” you gave the order, trying to keep your voice steady. 

He walked over to the guitar that stayed on the stand in your room when he was home. It was the older of the two of his nearly-twin guitars. His original. He picked it up, then balanced it on the bed. 

“If I don’t fix this, she’s going to be on top of my dick,” he nodded at his guitar. Then he looked at you and lifted one thick brow. “And that’s where you need to be.”

He then made quick work of adjusting the strap to where the body of the instrument would sit against his stomach rather than where it usually rested. 

He looped the strap over his head when he finished. The sight was unusual. You’d never seen the Les Paul rest so high on his body. 

He looked down, wrapped his hand around the neck and looked at you. His mouth lifted with a laugh, “This feels weird as fuck.”

You giggled with him, “Yeah, it’s definitely more ‘Lennon-esque’,” you swayed your hips as you walked towards him. “But you still make it look so sexy.” 

You gave him one chaste kiss on the lips, taking only a minute to deepen it. When you pulled back, his lips were plump and looked so ready to be kissed again. But you denied the urge. You were ready to test the idea. 

“Go plug in to the amp and lie down,” You wanted to be firm with him. Be in control. “I still have to tell you the song.”

He turned and picked up the small amp that stayed in the room. Once he had it situated at his side of the bed, he plugged his guitar into it. The sound of the feedback as it got plugged in made you push your thighs together. You saw him move his arm and strum a few chords from the back, his naked ass flexing slightly while he geared up the guitar. 

It was a sight. It looked almost like normal. Almost how he always looked when he checked the sound of the instrument . . .though this time, clothes were exempt. You were glad this scene was for your eyes only. You didn’t ever want to share this version of him tuning it up with anyone else.

Once he felt it was good to go, he laid (mostly) down. He situated a couple of pillows behind his head to give him some sort of leverage. 

When he’d gotten situated, you admired the sight. His guitar was laying across his body, while his erection was still fully present. The way it stood at attention in the air, the worn red body of the guitar right next to it . . . It was something so pornographic. You wanted the image sealed in your mind forever.

“I’m going to be honest,” you spoke, tearing your eyes away from him, wanting to keep some sort of composure. You walked to the Amazon Alexa you kept in the bedroom. “I couldn’t choose one song. So, I just went with a random one I’ve been wanting to hear you play again. It’s been a while.” 

He blanched at that. “It’s been awhile?!” He sounded worried. “I kind of want to stand a chance at passing this little test of yours, sweetie.” 

You raised a brow at him.

“Jacob Thomas, you can hear a song once and instantly know how to play it,” you checked to make sure the speaker was plugged in. “It’s not going to be a big deal for you. You know it. Don’t stress.”

“I don’t want to mess up and make you stop,” his eyes glazed over. “I love the way your mouth feels too much to lose it. I wanna be good for you, baby.”

Your clit fluttered at that. He wanted to be good for you. 

“Then be a good boy and tune your guitar again. You don’t want to know the consequences if it’s even slightly out of tune,” you turned on the lamp at his bedside, the dark room needed some sort of light. Daytime was fading, rain still ticking against the window. “Don’t worry about the song until it starts playing.”

He went about his tuning and mid-strum, he suddenly questioned, “Why are you making Alexa play the song if I’m going to be the one actually playing it?” 

“The speaker will help to keep me aware of any possible mistakes,” you tapped it and then pointed at your mouth. “I’m going to be a little preoccupied to only rely on memory. My brain goes a little fuzzy when I. . .”

He swallowed thickly, blinked a couple times and nodded. “Makes sense.”

 You watched him go along with his tuning and decided to have another little practice. You sauntered over to him, and sat down on the edge of the bed, next to his leg.

He didn’t look up from what he was doing until he heard you spit in your hand. 

You placed your wet hand around his thick shaft, you gave it a couple of pumps. You looked him in the eyes, testing him. He knew if he stopped doing what he’d been doing that you would stop. He knew exactly what this was. And he wasn’t going to mess it up like he had before. 

You let your slick thumb rub in the crease at the base of his pretty pink head. You then took the precum from before (and the extra that had gathered since), and rubbed it from the slit of the head all the way around the head. 

You glanced up to see his face and the sight was beautiful. There was already a slight sheen of sweat forming at his hairline. He was working so hard for you. And then—.

There was one slight twang of a string. You took your hand away. 

He moaned. “You can’t. . .it was just a little—.”

“Gotta do better next time, baby,” you got up from your spot. “Is the guitar about ready?”

He gave the smallest glare. Then he reached up, using the back of his hand to wipe at his forehead. He placed his fingers on the correct frets and played the beginning of ‘Highway Tune’ to test out the sound.

His face was concentrated, looking down to see his fingers go. You watched, too. And besides his fingers going crazy, the music was obviously flawless. Holy shit. You weren’t sure you were going to survive this. You were sweating, flushed, and your thighs felt wet from being clenched around your core.

What were you going to do if you got distracted by him and stopped going when he was doing perfectly fine? You would lose all of your high-standing in the situation and you’d simply look like a loser.

The competitive streak suddenly came to life inside your chest. Your heart started beating so fast.

Or, you noticed how fast your heart had been beating all along. 

“Okay, stop,” you said firmly. “You miss one little strum, even the smallest string of a note, I stop. Got it?”

His brown eyes were unaware of your inner conflict and were doe-like as he nodded to agree. He wanted to be good.

“Alexa, play—.”

“Wait,” his voice was frantic. “Is it the entire guitar part or just a solo I’m playing?”

Before you spoke, Alexa’s monotone voice did. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

You rolled your eyes at the device. “Alexa, stop,” you surveyed him. You hadn’t thought so specifically. So, you thought on the spot. “Anytime you hear a guitar playing, you play.”

“Rhythm or lead?”

Damn, good questions. These were things you really hadn’t thought of initially. You‘d just thought of the grand scheme. And, while you both loved music, he was the guitar player. It technically was his job to help remind you of these things. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t slightly embarrassing in this situation.

But, you kept your cool. You tried not to think of the little holes you’d left in the plan. 

“Lead.”

He nodded, then cast his gaze down to look upon his guitar. His fingers tapped against the body, waiting patiently. And, like a pro, his tanned cock continued to stand at attention. 

“Be ready,” you warned. He visibly gulped. You made your way to the bed, combing a hand through the front of your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Alexa,” you situated yourself between his legs, ass in the air. You knew your body drove him crazy, so you’d use it. “Play ‘Something’ by The Beatles.”

You let the sexy act go, and peeked up at him. He was already gazing so lovingly towards you. You two lazed grins towards each other. As though you were sharing a secret.

Back when you’d started dating, this song seemed to play everywhere you two would go. And so, it had gotten deemed special for the two of you, by the two of you.

It was really silly, but you two had been kids then. Thinking up something for everything.

“Playing ‘Something’ by The Beatles.”

While she repeated what you said, he placed his fingers in position. And without even knowing what it was supposed to look like, you knew he was right. You already felt a little wetness gather at your center, simply for how gifted and intellectual Jake was — especially with his craft. 

Right before it had begun, you sunk your mouth down over his tip. The taste of him was what your mind latched onto. He always tasted so sweet. You felt his body shiver. His legs shook on either side of you.

“Baby. . .” He sighed.

And when the guitar started, you closed your eyes to bask in the beautiful melodies Jake was already matching. He moaned and whined a few times here and there as you continued to flex your mouth over the top of him, but other than that, he was focused. He was magic.

You moved your mouth off of the top of him and then let your tongue lavish around the base of his cock. You licked it in long horizontal and vertical stripes, making a pattern of it. You occasionally went back to the top to give it proper attention. 

And once you’d made his skin glisten with the work of your mouth, you placed your hand on his base. Letting your hand do some work while you watched him play. 

The way his face would change as he played was so like the way it would on stage while playing, but this time, there were little whimpers that accompanied the faces he made. You knew the faces were not only meant for the guitar in this moment, he was reacting to you more than anything now. 

His fingers moved in precise motion, the veins in his hand showing as it flexed around the neck of the guitar. 

He still hadn’t missed a chord. Damn. As if you needed to be reminded of just how incredible Jake was. 

You licked around the slit at his tip and then licked in the crease just below the head, where your thumb had been earlier. You loved this spot on him, almost hidden between the head and length of him. 

You took the top half of him into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly up and down while also letting your tongue swirl in and around your favorite spot. 

You let extra saliva leak from your mouth, right before you hollowed your cheeks out. You then brought a hand to his shaft and stroked it liberally, grateful for the lubricant you’d provided. It was so slick to the touch, your hand glided perfectly. 

He breathed a combined whimper and moan when you added one more hand to the mix, grasping his balls. You rolled his sac in your hand. So fucking smooth.

You decided to massage his balls, giving them attention. With all of these actions combined, one chord stayed slightly longer than it should have. But you pretended not to notice. You were too engaged with your own activity at hand.

You started humming the melody as you swallowed as much of him as you could. He whined at the new vibrations that only added to the present pleasure.

Meanwhile, you generously stroked at him, but added just the slightest squeeze. His hips bucked as both of your hands continued their work, while your mouth sucked at him. You tightened your jaw and your lips went taut as you gave him one especially tight suck. 

Your mouth sounded like a little ‘pop!’ as you came off of his tip.

His breath seethed through his teeth. But he was a natural born rockstar, and played seamlessly through the hurdles thrown his way during a performance. The current hurdles being your mouth and hands.

The guitar solo was close. You couldn’t lose focus before then and you had to do your part to keep him steady. You had to stay consistent in your movements to keep his stamina going.

You grasped at his shaft, but realized it was becoming dry. So, right before it was time for the solo to start, you brought your head up. 

You gathered as much saliva as you could, and made sudden eye contact with him as you spit (drooled) it all onto his throbbing length.

Your center was aching.

His mouth fell open and you kept your eyes on his as the solo began and you moved your mouth around him. Your hand moved in the places your mouth couldn’t quite reach. Your movements went along to the rhythm of the music. You knew it like the back of your hand, making it one big—.

And his finger slipped off the string, right at the end of the solo. 

You sat up, deciding that was a big enough error to hold to your word. 

But, his eyes held such disappointment and guilt and longing . . . You felt for him. He never stopped playing, even as you stopped your efforts. He kept going. 

He’d also made it through almost the entire song, holding up his end of the plan so damn well. 

And his cock was just so pretty, standing up straight, waiting for more. 

You realized you just couldn’t hold to your word like you’d wanted to. 

Though, you did give his thigh a hard smack, and bit down on the flesh right on the inside of his thigh. So close to his most sensitive area.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth. “Won’t do it again,” he continued to play relentlessly. “Just so hot, babe.”

The flawless music he continued to make rushed through your ears. You knew the song was almost over, so you looped one of your legs around one of his. You moved it between your thighs to be in the right spot for satisfying friction and grinded down on it hard. 

“Oh,” his mouth was held in an ‘o’ shape at the feeling of you, wetting his leg with your arousal. It was the same big ‘o’ his mouth tended to make during a normal guitar solo. 

Fitting.

“You like that, baby?” 

His eyebrows drew together, nodding. 

You hadn’t taken the time until that moment to realize how sweaty he’d become. His forehead glistened, as did his nose and chest. The sweat dripped down from the middle of his pecs to the top of his tummy. 

Your mouth watered. 

His eyes stayed glued to the guitar, focus driven. His fingers moved expertly along the strings, finishing the song as if he had helped George Harrison write the song himself. 

You finally stopped your movements, wanting to admire the man beneath you. 

But he didn’t give you much time.

As carefully as he could manage, Jake slipped through the strap of the guitar, depositing it against the bedside table. And as soon as he was free of the constrictions from the instrument and your game, he took his control back. 

And you gladly let him. Almost.

He grabbed your ass, still sitting atop his thigh. But you moved his hands to resituate yourself. You climbed off of him, only to slip your legs to be knelt on either side of his abdomen. 

But Jake wrapped his arm around your waist and switched positions before you could even breathe. He wanted you below him. His chest was heaving as his swollen cock rested on your upper thigh.

Before anything else transpired, he got down on his forearms. He nudged your nose with his affectionately and captured your lips in a full kiss. There was barely any tongue, but his plush lips latched securely with yours. Puzzle pieces. 

“I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. 

“I love you,” you sighed back to him. 

He ran his throbbing cock through your folds. Your body vibrated at the feeling. Then, he took it away. 

Sparing no time, he pushed in, sinking into you. Another puzzle piece.

Having just gotten him back from tour, you were still readjusting to the feeling of his girth. But when he started moving, home was found and you moved your hips in time with his. 

You knew neither of you were going to last long, but making love seemed priority to you both.

“Not a complicated song,” he huffed between thrusts. “But dammit if it was the most diffi—,” he slammed hard, making you both grunt at the motion. “. . .Most difficult with you doing all of that.”

You blushed, looking up to him. He was looking down to where your bodies were connecting. “Mission accomplished.”

He snapped his eyes back to you, “Mission enjoyed.” He winked at you, a suggestive smirk marking his lips. 

There wasn’t any more talking as he rounded his hips a few more times. He never let himself fully leave your center, obviously wanting to drive you to the edge.

It wouldn’t be hard. 

One, being Jake Kiszka’s girlfriend, was a constant loop of being on edge for the man. And two, with everything that you’d taken part in together that day, you’d been ready to release for a while. But this was the moment you’d wanted most. 

You’d wanted it with him. This connection. It was arguably what you missed most while he was away. These intimate moments, wrapped in time, for only you both. 

His hair was so long, it draped around your head like a curtain. You felt every single inch of him as he bucked into you, hearing the sounds your bodies made together. 

You moaned outright, “Jake,” your voice was husky. Your pussy clenched. You felt it coming.     

“Fuck, baby. I know,” his hips crashed to meet yours, the tip of him connecting to your g-spot.  

You whined loud, letting out gasps of encouragement and his name. 

Finally, your eyes met his, deep brown, and you held contact like that. You felt the entire world in his eyes. You lifted one hand to wrap at the base of his neck, under his hair, and left one to rest on his shoulder blade. His skin was completely tacky with sweat. Your bodies were vigorously moving to meet each other now. 

He stuck his thumb in his mouth, completely wetting it. And then, he slipped a hand between you, rubbing gentle circles on, around, and underneath your throbbing bud. 

After a few uneven thrusts, his body started to falter more in its ministrations. 

“I’m—,” he started. 

“Me too,” you gasped. 

His thrusts still guided you, and his thumb nudged just right against you. Everything you felt and saw was him. You shuddered as you hit your peak, your body stiffening. You threw your head back against the pillows. Your core was throbbing at the sensations. 

Then, he pushed in one more time, his sticky stomach meeting yours. He whimpered, and you could feel him spill inside of you. All of him. 

He stayed where he was for a second, his dick still pulsating inside of your walls. 

Then, he slipped out of you, going quickly to get a towel to clean the mess he’d helped to create. Once you were cleaned up, he laid his head to your chest, totally spent. 

His breath was warm against your breast. You combed your hand through his now-knotted hair. This was right.

You gazed down at him, his long hair swept across your stomach. Your heart pressed to your chest. You missed him.

When summer came and school let out, you would have to rethink not joining him on tour. You couldn’t take being away from him for so long. These moments were everything. 

“What do you think about joining the guys and me this summer, hm?” His fingers were tracing shapes into your hip. 

You grinned, braiding a few pieces of his hair when you responded, “You know, I just might have to.”

[pentacentric]

I probably think way too much about how very little Sam knew about Mary. How John and Dean gave him almost nothing, to the point that she wasn't even really like a ghost shadowing his life, more like the story of one overheard in bits and pieces over the years. And yet, his whole life from when he can first remember—every bit of motivation or guilt, every point of pride or shame—is built around his mother, this person he isn't allowed to know.

I've written a lot of bits and pieces about it before, but never a standalone. This is actually an excerpt from a longer story, but I modified it some and I think it works on its own, hopefully (he knows about hunting already but that's really the only canon difference).

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

When Sam's in fourth grade, and has to write a page about his favorite memory, he asks for Dean's help. All he can seem to dredge up at the moment is just too weird or too farfetched. Things that say far too much about the way they live for a teacher to read.

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

After some teasing about his best memories being of all the times Sam's embarrassed himself (and a well-aimed pink rubber eraser hitting him between the eyes) Dean quiets down and turns thoughtful.

"Well, I dunno what my most favorite memory would be, really. I guess…" He bites his lip, chews on it for a second, gaze directed absently into the distance. "I think it would prob'ly be my first memories? It musta been, like, when I was three and four maybe. They're…of Mom."

"Oh." Sam's chest gets a little tight. He speaks quietly, cautiously. Dean—Dean and Dad both—they don't talk about her much. Sam's seen her picture, the one that Dad keeps in his journal, a few times, but he knows so little about her. Just that she was pretty (beautiful), with a smile that reminds of him of Dean's and wavy blonde hair. "What was she—what are they like?"

Dean smiles, maybe a little sad, but it's more than that. Warm, wistful; gaze still unfocused and distant. "Mostly…happy. Like…bright. She'd sing to me a lot, and, like, I didn't know the songs back then, but, when I hear 'em now, I can hear her voice singing them. Beatles, Beach Boys, Simon and Garfunkel, um…Peter, Paul, and Mary, maybe…" Dean chuffs out a laugh. "I remember Puff the Magic Dragon, at least…I think I even remember Dad teasin' her about how she better sing me some real music, too, not just sissy crap, but, I dunno, maybe I made that up."

Dean pauses, that bittersweet expression on his face, still, and Sam doesn't want him to get lost in it. He also doesn't want to miss this opportunity, if he can help it.

"I dunno. He'd say somethin' like that." Dean spares him half a smile, still somewhere else in his head. "What…what else do you remember? What'd you guys do together?"

"Well, not a whole lot. I guess mostly just the normal stuff you do with a little kid. Like legos, I remember we'd build castles an' fortresses and stuff. I wanted her to build me a car but we didn't have enough black bricks, so she made me a little boat instead. Dad said it looked like a bathtub." He smiles. "Um, she'd dance with me, sometimes. To the radio. Make lunch—I mostly remember sandwiches and Mac n' Cheese. I'd sit in that little seat in the cart when she went to the grocery store, and she'd ask me what was on the list and I'd pretend I could read it and make up dumb stuff."

The silence is longer this time. Sam breathes out, carefully. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno. Just silly things, like 'elephant steaks!' Or 'a unicorn!' Or 'poop n' rhubarb pie!'"

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean grins at that. "I think you're, like, the only kid ever who never found poop and fart jokes funny."

"'Cause they're not."

When Dean laughs, muttering little weirdo, Sam looks around for something harmless to throw at him, pouts.

"Don't worry, Sammy, if anyone wonders why you're so weird I'll just tell them it's 'cause you still poop your pants, and you're kinda sensitive about it an' all."

"Dean."

Sam decides that his pencil is perfectly fine to throw after all and, as a concession, doesn't aim it at his head. Dean grins, not seeming too annoyed by the assault, so Sam decides to push his luck.

"Did Mom think it was funny? Your lists?"

Dean's melancholy little smile is back. "Yeah…yeah, I think she did. She'd always laugh, anyways. An' she had the best laugh. I'd make up stuff that just got more and more ridiculous just so I could keep watchin' her laugh." He sighs, shrugs. "Anyways, yeah…that's Mom. That's what I remember."

It gets quiet after that, and Sam can see Dean's face starting to shutter over as he withdraws. It's rare for Sam to get to see his brother so open and unguarded any more. Over the last few years, Dean's started to change; Sam can tell. Still fun, still charming, still affectionate, at least with Sam (mostly when there's no one else around to catch him being so uncool). But, even though they're not always alike—Dean doesn't usually brood, rarely explodes, and he never gets that kind of burning cold John does when he's focused on something—sometimes now he kinda reminds Sam of Dad. He's been more closed off, the way Dad can be, his deeper emotions pushed farther away, out of Sam's reach. Doesn't show when things get to him, like he used to.

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

"So, what are you gonna write about, Sammy?"

When Sam shrugs, Dean suggests the time they ran out of gas on a back road in central Florida. They'd only walked two miles before an Oscar Myer Wienermobile came barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave them a lift to and from the closest gas station (still a good eight miles away). Sam counters with the night in Montana that Dad got so drunk he started fighting with the motel owner about yetis (Dad coming down hard on the side of 'hoax'). They ended up getting kicked out at two am after Dad had cut down the guy’s “Bigfoot Crossing” sign with an axe. They toss back and forth increasingly ridiculous ideas until they're both laughing so hard they're in literal tears. When John comes back, they can't even stop long enough to answer what's so funny. Dad just smiles, bemused and fond, and shakes his head before heading off to shower.

Sam thinks maybe he can add this afternoon to his Good Memories pile.

In the end, he waits until that evening, before bed, and easily fills up a page-and-a-half about the time, last summer, when Dad was on a hunt out west and he and Dean had spent all afternoon exploring tidal pools in Yaquina Head, Oregon, marveling at the tiny little aquatic worlds they found. He invents an older teenage cousin that tagged along so the teacher won't question why two young kids spent the day alone in a national park.

He gets an A.

From then on, Sam keeps his eyes out in thrift stores for cassettes from the bands Dean mentioned; pockets them when he can to listen to later on the beat-up Walkman knock-off Dean stole for him for his sixth birthday. He likes a lot of it, but he's careful about what he keeps; only his favorites. He stashes them in the bottom of his school bag, in the hollowed-out book that Bobby showed him how to make last year, on a rainy day when Sam got bored with watching old Westerns.

For some reason, he doesn't want Dean to know about them. Doesn't want him to feel like Sam's trying to take something away from him. So he slips them in when he's sitting in the back of the Impala alone, on long trips, and closes his eyes. Lets the albums pour into his ears over the headphones; shuts the rest of the world out. Sgt Pepper's. Pet Sounds. Bookends. He tries to imagine his mom, Mary, singing the songs to him, in a sunny kitchen.

But he can never really pull together a complete image of her; just bits and pieces, blurred-together impressions: yellow hair, the smiling face from the picture (looking kind of flat, like a mask), a flowered dress he'd seen in a shop window. And he doesn't know what her voice sounded like, so it kind of just ends up being a composite of the voices of some of his favorite teachers (along with the mother of a classmate back in Indiana who drove him home once when she spotted him waiting for the rain to stop under the playground slide).

So he gives up on trying to picture her, and, instead, just tries to sink into the music, sees if he can feel what she was feeling when she listened to it. Imagines the conversations they might have: which songs would be her favorites, why she would have liked them, where she was the first time she heard them playing.

When he hears those songs on the radio now, or over the speakers in a restaurant, it makes him feel kind of happy and sad at the same time.

They remind him of her.

(Except for America—for some reason, that one makes him think of Dean.)

[lick-me-lennon22]

Kid!Beatles X Kid!Reader Headcanons

(thank you to anon for this fun request!! 💞)

John

you and John are known troublemakers in school, often getting scolded for your antics in class and mischief during recess

you're notorious for pulling pranks on your classmates, from tacks on chairs to fake bugs in desk drawers

you bond over your love for doodling, filling notebooks with silly drawings and caricatures of your teachers (and sometimes defacing school property)

despite your friendship, you're fierce rivals on the soccer field, competing against one another in epic matches with bragging rights on the line

you share a secret hideout in the schoolyard where you spend your breaks together, plotting imaginary adventures and sharing your wildest dreams

you have frequent sleepovers consisting of ruthless pillow fights and devious prank calls to every number in the phonebook

Paul

you and Paul spend recess making up silly songs together, singing at the top of your lungs and giggling uncontrollably

after school, you make your way towards your secret treehouse in Paul's backyard to share secrets and imaginary tales, hidden away from the rest of the world

when the weather is nice, you like to go on bike rides around the neighborhood, exploring hidden trails and pretending to be intrepid explorers on a quest for adventure

Paul will sometimes take you to the park with him to birdwatch, armed with binoculars and identification books

you love building things together, crafting beautiful flower crowns and constructing makeshift forts from pillows and blankets

you spend your weekends watching old monster movies and sci-fi classics, munching on popcorn and debating over which film is the best

George

being two of the quieter students in class, you share a special unspoken bond, often writing messages in the margins of your notebooks and sliding it to the edge of your desk for the other to read

speaking of, the two of you are avid readers, spending hours in the school library devouring nonfiction books about dinosaurs, science, and space

George takes on you epic imaginary adventures, pretending to be astronauts exploring distant planets or knights fighting dragons

you like to go on nature walks together, collecting leaves to make rubbings and flowers to press in your scrapbooks

you spend the weekends exploring in the woods behind your houses, searching for hidden treasures and making friends with the creatures that inhabit the forest

Ringo

you're a pair of class clowns, always cracking jokes and performing silly skits to make your classmates laugh during boring lessons

Ringo shares with you his love for percussion, showing you how to use instruments like air guitars and cardboard drums to perform for your friends at lunchtime

the two of you spend countless afternoons playing soccer with your friends in the neighborhood streets, Ringo showcasing his impressive footwork as you cheer him on from the sidelines (and even join in when you're feeling bold)

you're avid comic book fans, spending hours together trading your favorite issues and debating over who would win in a battle between your favorite superheroes

on temperate evenings you'll pitch a tent in Ringo's backyard and stay up all night telling ghost stories, roasting marshmallows over a makeshift campfire, and counting the stars

[stardust-sunset]

imagine paul and darry as best friends because they met in fifth grade due to both being team captains on field day. they’re both competitive little shits and yelling insults at one another until the teachers have to make them sit out for a little bit. they get to talking and find out they have a lot more in common than they thought. so from that day on they’ve been best friends

until high school hits.

once high school hits paul and daddy are competing for the same position in football; quarterback. obviously, paul is a soc. and a filthy rich one at that. paul has a personal trainer. he has someone who will help him. while what does daddy have? he has his father and that’s about it. and who ends up getting the quarterback position?

darry.

this kinda resonates with paul because he thinks darry gets everything in life. i mean…yeah, paul is filthy rich. but his parents just feed into whatever he want. all he has to do is throw a bit of a fit and he gets what he wants. darry on the other hand…darry worked for what he got. darry worked his tail off in school, in sports, in clubs…darry was a sweetheart. darry was everyone’s favorite. darry got all the academic awards and all the athletic scholarships while paul barely got anything.

this jealously kinda manifests into something a lot more ugly. he’s downright envious. darry has everything he wants. darry has it all made for him. but now, darry lost his parents. and a sick, sick part of paul is actually somewhat happy that darry lost everything. because darry gave him about fifty percent of his scholarship money, which he regretted doing because paul didn’t technically need it. paul just lied about his parents cutting him off. paul actually had it made and was trying to squeeze darry out of everything. and the final blow?

the final blow comes when darry confesses how afraid he is of the tracks. so paul and his friends are waiting at the tracks with flashlights, planning on scaring him by making him think a train is coming. They know his brothers are with him too. he sees darry’s old beat up truck and something catches his eye. darry looks so…so tired.

darry never looked like that. darry could go to school and olay football for five hours right after and still play a game without batting an eye. darry was never this tired, even when the two smuggled alcohol in the back of paul’s house. darry never looked that tired. and it all hits him.

darry lost everything. his parents. his money. his academics. hell, he might’ve been on the brink of losing the only family he had left. his brothers. and paul realized that darry never had it made for him. but before he even knew what he was doing, he commanded his friends into doing the horrible prank. and now he’s watching darry’s truck swerve into a ditch and flip over. he’s hearing the screaming of his two brothers in the back. and all paul can do is run.

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

hi!! do you have any favorite hcs for each of the gang members?

I have a few headcannons! If anyone wants to hear more about these I’d love to elaborate!

TW for child abuse in Steve and Johnny’s parts, and thoughts of suicide in Johnny’s first headcannon

ℙ𝕠𝕟𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

My guy is honestly lacking in friends at school. Most of the gang either dropped out a long time ago or are in a completely different grade. He gets along with people on the track team and stuff but most of them kinda just see him as ‘cool enough’ and not really a friend

One time one of the guys from the team held a party and nobody told him about it. When he found out he tried to act like it didn’t matter to him but it still stung. He didn’t even want to go, it was just the idea that nobody bothered to invite him

He’d be that one kid in college that didn’t have a lot of freedom during high school and just goes absolutely crazy. It takes him a semester to learn how to use his free will responsibly. I actually have a lot of Ponyboy college headcanons if anyone would be interested in those.

When he learns to drive he’s actually a pretty good driver, and people trust him to take them places. The only problem is that he seems to be a magnet for terrible drivers. Like he gets on the road and suddenly nobody around him remembers wtf a turn signal is.

He definitely curses out people when he’s driving. Darry has straight up given up on trying to correct his language behind the wheel

𝕊𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕡 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

I’ve mentioned this one before, but he cannot STAND people being angry with him. Like he will just agree with whatever the gang asks to keep peace. It’s a lot of the reason why he hates being pulled into arguments, because he can’t avoid upsetting someone.

Sometimes when Darry and Ponyboy are going at it he’ll just straight up leave without being noticed. He honestly started pushing how much he could get away with it until he eventually did get caught after he was still gone at 4am. Darry felt too guilty to even be able to lecture him.

Because of his aversion to conflict him and Darry hardly ever argue, but when they do it’s UGLY. It’s like a whole world war breaking out in the living room. It’ll almost always end with Soda sobbing and Darry usually just has to like, leave for a while. One time they didn’t talk for three days. People don’t even try to get between them because it always makes things worse. In the end they always manage to talk it out though, sometimes it just takes a while.

Less angsty one, Soda makes people go on walks with him in the middle of the night. Usually it’s Steve, but he’ll take Ponyboy if there’s no school the next day. One time he even made Dally come with him by threatening to go by himself if he didn’t come lol. As much as everyone complains about it, they never tell him no.

In school he had detention like every single day. All his teachers absolutely despised him and he would’ve had to redo his junior year if he hadn’t dropped out.

𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤

During high school he’d get really pissed when his Soc friends beat up Greasers. He actually got a couple of them to stop completely, but others just learned to do it without getting caught. They all knew better than to mess with the gang, though,

Speaking of high school, he just straight up wasn’t welcome into most of his friend’s homes. Only Paul’s parents actually liked him, and only like two other people’s parents even pretended to like him.

Darry waited until after his parents funeral to cry so that his brother wouldn’t see him. The priest came and sat with him for a little bit while he just sobbed hysterically.

Sometimes he sits by their graves and asks for advice. He doesn’t get any, obviously, but he always leaves with his mind a little more clear than it was before.

𝕁𝕠𝕙𝕟𝕟𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕕𝕖

When the Socs jumped him, he honestly thought he was going to die. That scared him, but that scared him even more was the fact that he wasn’t that upset about it. It wasn’t until the gang showed up that he realized how much he really didn’t want to die now, but in the moment it almost felt like a nice release.

For a couple weeks after the Curtis parents died, he’d come over every day and just do chores and cook. He didn’t feel like it was a lot, but to Darry who had to do a million things at once while barely being able to get out of bed it meant so much.

Sometimes he’ll sit by the train tracks, and whenever a train rolls by he’ll think about jumping on it and just running away from everything. But he can’t stand the idea of leaving Ponyboy and Dally, so he doesn’t.

Him and Steve don’t talk much, but they have the common ground of coming from shitty home lives. Sometimes they’ll just come to eachother to get an injury taken care of or just to breathe for a minute, and then they’ll just never mention it again.

𝔻𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕟

Tulsa was supposed to just be a temporary stop for him until he met Johnny. Then he decided staying a few weeks wouldn’t hurt. Sometimes he still tells himself he’ll leave eventually, but he knows that’ll never happen.

Before the Curtis parents died part of him looked up to Darry and the way he took care of the gang. That went away after the Curtis parents died and everything started falling apart, but for a while he saw Darry as what he used to want to be.

Him and Tim Shepard have an unspoken agreement that one can piss the other off when they want a fight. At this point it’s basically a challenge to see who can make the other angrier. Dallas won when sold Angela drugs for a party.

Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda will constantly be dragging him to incredibly sketchy parties. They claim it’s for protection but really they just wanna hang out and they know he can’t say no if he’s worried about them getting murdered in a back alley.

𝕋𝕨𝕠-𝔹𝕚𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨𝕤

He met Darry when they were in elementary school, and they’re best friends. He’s also been a designated babysitter for as long as he could remember. Him and Darry don’t hang out a ton anymore, but they’re still the first person eachother go to when they need help.

Idk if yall have seen that video where they’re making a drink without knowing what everyone else put into it, and everyone is putting in mixers cause they don’t trust Ali. And then at the end Ali shows up and pours in like half a bottle of ever clear. Ali is Two-Bit.

Him and his sister are insanely close. They’re constantly having tea parties and gossip sessions. He made Soda teach him how to do hair just so that he could do hers.

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖

One of the most loyal motherfuckers you’ll ever meet. He doesn’t actually like a lot of people, but he will literally kill for the people he does.

Evie isn’t allowed in the Curtis house anymore, not because they don’t like her, but everyone just got sick of watching Steve and her make out. She’s unofficially banned from the DX for the same reason. (Something Steve found very unfair because Soda and Sandy were just as bad the second Darry was gone)

His dad used to be really violent when he was younger, but as he got older he also got stronger and his dad got weaker. Things aren’t bad anymore because his dad knows that if Steve gets scared enough then he WILL kill him.

Absolutely loves speeding down the road in the middle of the night. He’ll drag Soda and Evie on VERY illegal joy rides. Tbh even when he’s not breaking road laws for fun he still drives like an absolute maniac. 

[the-sword-lesbian]

Time for another Locked Tomb poll!! Because I don’t think people have become annoyed of me yet.

Please reblog to annoy more people

[lloyddahb0i]

Artwork 1: Paul and Star.

Normal car Paul and his adopted futuristic space child Star.

Paul is a “glass half empty” retail worker who tends to dwell on the past and has no hope for the future. He’s had a tough life causing him to now be able to spot red flags way quicker than most people. I can imagine that he use to be a teacher and quit in hopes to find a better job.

While Star is a bubbly little guy from the future who is full of child-like joy and hope. And kind of represents the bright future that might be in store.

I’m workshopping the backstory of how these to met, but one idea is that Star is a stowaway with some time travelers, one of them being their mother. And something plot relevant happened and Star is left behind.

He wondered around and found himself at the elementary school where Paul was visiting a friend who was still a teacher. Star can recognize it’s a school and went up there to get some help from adults. More plot happens scary government guys in suits are after them thinking Star is an Alien.

Artwork 2: A background for an animation I'm working. It's a trailer for a new rookie in the piston cup race who I imagine is a secret nerd. probably the racecar working at Walmart I drew a while ago.

His name is Henry Bunker and he wears the number 53, which coincidentally is the number of his favorite issue of his favorite comic. "Motor Mouth." I imagine that "Motor Mouth" is a spin on "Darkwing Duck."