#The short hallway's door looked the same as the Whiteboard ending door it just let me step through it that time

[sysig]

Getting the Speedrun achievement in The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe is a very stable and completely glitchless experience

Okay so this is how Stanley’s door is supposed to look (don’t mind the boxes)

And here’s how it looked while I was attempting this achievo. What was I doing to cause this glitch? ‘Cause believe you me, it is repeatable - I was hitting Forward/W during the loading page so I’d start walking as soon as it dropped me in. It really hated that lol

As you can see from this one, it tried to load the Whiteboard Ending but I was faster, which ended up locking me outside the “closed” door 427

I’m also not sure what those little guys are down there, as I couldn’t look at them directly - it actually looked like two rooms that were clipping through each other, but I didn’t see any particularly recognizable features

This was the short hallway right to the Two Doors room - I stepped through it too quickly so it only half-loaded the short hallway, but this time it didn’t lock me out so I was able to step back into the glitch!

And then I fell through the floor again

But hey, I did get it!

[ddaehyeon]

– ♡; UNGODLY HOUR ; PARK SERIM 

pairing: park serim + reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

summary: an unexpected midnight call caused by the thoughts that clouded serim’s mind. 

if all the equations written on your notes were a sea, you’d probably be already drowning in it. the library was silent, only the flipping of the pages mingled with the sound of the pen running by the paper was heard. soft music was enclosed in your ears through the earphones, preventing you from dozing off.

with narrowed eyes, you stared at your homework for a moment. a sigh of defeat leaving your lips right after. staring won’t solve an equation. but you wish it could. you desperately wish it could.

the chair beside you was pulled, a student occupying it right after. he placed his own books on the table and when your eyes met, he gave you a wave. you unplugged the earphones from your ears, a brow raised to the male. “oh, serim? you’ll be studying?”

a soft chuckle was heard from serim which made a smile linger on his countenance as he spoke. “yes, i’ve decided to become a better student.”

“ah, i see. hope you’ll not change your decision after two minutes,” you remarked, returning your focus to your notes as if you were not spacing out earlier before serim arrived.

“thank you so much for the encouragement,” serim said, matching the mockery you provided in your words. “i’ll work hard.”

instead of giving a verbal response, a beam came to your lips. he should be used by now with all the remarks you throw him.

a close friend—it was the title serim had been embracing for the past years. with the two of you meeting on the first day of classes during your freshman year. it went on and on for the next years and now that both of you were in your junior year, close to being inseparable. nearly all classes you enlisted covered the same time slots on his own schedule, making him your classmate for almost all the subjects aside from economics.

another male came to your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts. he pulled the chair adjacent to yours, a small smile visible on his brim. “you’re y/n, right?”

your nod was his cue to take the seat in front of you, his own books settled in front of your messily piled things.

“allen ma, a junior as well. you signed up for integral calculus tutoring sessions, right? i’ll be your tutor.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☆

as soon as the classes ended, you closed your notebook. everyone else was shuffling out of the room. you took your time to stare at the whiteboard which was filled with lines and symbols written by your professor. pressing your eyes closed, you leaned back to your chair. a mental note of which should be done this evening was made.

“planning to sleep here?” serim asked, placing his things back to his bag before swinging it to his shoulder.

letting go of a sigh, you opened your eyes to look at him. huffing, you eventually stood to arrange your things. “this is not a desirable location to sleep. i'd rather go back to my dorm than sleep here.”

as you were talking the next lecturer entered the room, serim gave the professor a bow which was a gesture that you followed. getting your bag to your shoulder, you nodded your head to the direction of the door. both of you must leave before the next block comes inside for their class.

faint streaks coming from the setting sun came to touch your skin. the hallway was close to being empty, only a few students were around either rushing to go to their next class or leisurely making their way out of the building.

serim and you walked in silence, both drained from the lessons today schedule had brought. the semester was barely halfway the calendar and each passing day, the topics taught were getting harder and harder.

“there’s a new café a few blocks away from the main gate, want to check it?” serim attempted to start a conversation.

nibbling your bottom lip, you tried to make a quick mental browse of the things you have to do. then it hit you. “ah, i need to meet allen.” you pulled your phone out of your pocket to check the time. there was a tutoring session scheduled after the class. with the abysmal grades, you were getting on the past activities, this could be your only redemption. “tutoring sessions.”

a pout w became visible on the lips of your friend, displeased of your answer. “even a quick drop won’t do?”

“i'm afraid i can’t. the tutoring session will start in roughly 15 minutes.” you gave the other an apologetic smile which caused him to drop his shoulders. it was no use of persuading you over this matter anyway. he can ask you to check it with him in other days. “guess i have to go now? have a good evening serim.”

“you too, y/n.”

all serim could do was wave at you as you began to walk your way to the library where the tutoring session would occur.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☆

“serim, what did he just said?” poking the other with a pen, you tried to catch his attention. the lecture was going rather too fast for your likings; your notebook page which was supposed to be filled with the terminologies had blank spaces in between.

“i don’t know.” serim answered.

earlier this day, he’d been acting a little off. he could have that child-like streak on him where he would just cling to you and be sulky whenever he gets less attention, it was acceptable. the same way he got used to the remarks you’d throw, you also got used to serim’s natural clinginess. but today sure be a different one. the morning greeting he gave was a swift one, holding no actual enthusiasm. and every time you’d ask him what his problem is, he would wave you off.

“let me see your notes then.” quite demanding, you scooted closer to him, your hand reaching for his notebook to check what was written there. it was the only way left for you to get the missed parts from the dictation.

serim snickered at your actions, dragging the notebook away from you as he tried so hard to focus on jotting down the words that endlessly flow out of your professor’s lips. “go ask your tutor about it.”

“go and eat cheeseballs later, your mood is quite unbelievable.” rolling your eyes, you moved away from him. a minimum effort exerted to write the words you could catch up on. every now and then, you would look at the male with a sharp gaze.

maybe serim woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☆

it was already midnight, that was the only thing you were sure of.

you were not even deep in your sleep when the vibrations coming from your phone which was lazily placed under the comforts of your pillow woke you up.

"so give me a valid explanation as to why you're calling me at an ungodly hour of..." you paused for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of the time at the wall clock which was barely illuminated. giving up, you looked at your phone instead. the caller's name displayed on the screen, the duration of call running. "... an ungodly hour of 2am." you placed your phone back to your ears. "oh god, serim if this-"

"i have something to tell you." the seriousness laced in his tone made your stomach flip, nervousness came rushing to your body.

"ooooh~" a chuckle was heard from you. it was an attempt to brighten up the mood of the other. "romantic. are you about to profess your undying love for me?"

“yes, i am.”

it was the small thinking that ended up to massive thoughts that hindered him to come to a peaceful evening. branching out each of the sensations he felt when you ended up not giving him much time as you would usually do, serim began asking why. why was he so upset when he usually won’t get upset with it? when you spend your time with your other circles, he was always okay with it. when you decline to go out with him for a detour whenever your classes end, he was alright with it. but with another person placed in the picture, he found himself succumbing to a certain frustration—something that wants to get more of your attention.

“wait, what?”  it was the only reply you managed to utter. his words awakening your senses. seriously?

a soft frustrated growl was heard from the other line—more like a whine serim would do whenever he’s embarrassed by something. “sorry for the way i acted today… i was just so lost in my thoughts.” even he wasn’t in front of you, you could already see the regretful pout decorating his lips. “acting with feelings rather than thinking… i'm really sorry, y/n.” a short pause was done by the other, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts and come up with proper words. “i can’t sleep and maybe this is because i dived in the sea of my thoughts, but i can’t find any other reason to explain why i got upset of you declining and spending less time with me. do you like your tutor?”

the question pulled a peal of laughter from your lips. silly how he thought you’d end up having such fondness for a guy you barely interact with.

“come on, it’s taking too much courage for me to word this out.” another whine was heard from him. “don’t laugh at me!”

“sorry, sorry. it’s just i was surprised by your question,” you replied, in between faint chuckles. you breathed in, trying to stop yourself from laughing. “well, i don’t. please, i just met him.”

serim sighed in relief. “that’s all i need to know. now, i can sleep,” he uttered, his tone merrier.

“i thought you’re going to conf—”

once again, he interrupted you. his words probably will be the one leaving you awake for the next few hours. “i like you, y/n.”

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ masterlist ☆ request ☆

[alpacaparkaseok]

Happy Holidays - BTS Style

4. “It’s not much, but it’s ours.”

11. “Ok, you take aisles 5-9, I’ll tackle anyone who gets in your way.”

(Jungkook are Minsuh are soulmates from my series 7 Secrets)

Narrowly avoiding a stray ping pong ball, Minsuh shoots Seohyun a glare. 

“Sorry,” Seohyun mumbles a bit sheepishly, setting up again. “I’ve really got to practice though. Jin’s really good at this.”

Rolling her shoulders, Minsuh grins at her soul sister. “It’ll be the death of you if he wins, won’t it?”

Seohyun shudders. “Don’t say such things.”

The sound of footsteps bounding down the stairs alerts the two girls to their soulmates’ presence. Within a few seconds Jungkook appears, grinning widely when he sees his soulmate’s predicament. 

The second that Yoongi enters the room he groans loudly. 

“Just pretend you didn’t see me, ok? If I play one more game of ping pong I’ll-”

“You don’t want to play with me?” Seohyun gives Yoongi the biggest puppy eyes she can manage. 

Jungkook snickers at Minsuh’s side. “He can’t say no to her.”

Minsuh gives him an incredulous look, nudging his side. “You can’t say no to me either!”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook levels a glare at her. “Try me.”

“Ok. Kook, can we go shopping tonight?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak but stops. “I...are you sure that’s really what you want to do?”

“Yep.”

Sighing, he runs his hands through his hair before turning to go back upstairs. “Let’s go then.”

Giving a triumphant shout, Minsuh takes off after him. “See! You can’t say no!”

“Whatever,” Jungkook grumbles ahead of her. “You played dirty though. No nicknames from now on, ok?”

“Ok Guk.”

About twenty minutes later finds the two of them entering a large department store, the both of them bundled up with the most bland clothes they could find. 

“You really think nobody will recognize you?” Minsuh asks, fiddling with her earmuffs and looking absolutely terrified. Taking her hands in his so as to safe the earmuffs from falling apart, Jungkook gives his soulmate a winning smile.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan. We’ll have to be quick, but you have sharp eyes. You remember exactly what it is that we’re looking for?”

Minsuh gives a firm nod. “Yep. Small dinosaurs with backpacks.”

“Don’t forget, they’re highlighter Dinos.”

Snorting at his serious expression, Minsuh rolls her eyes. “I really don’t understand why-”

Jungkook stops her by squishing her cheeks together. “Min, just trust me. Have I ever let you down before?”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Answer the question.”

“No, never. In all our long time of knowing each other, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Jungkook bobs his head before turning and dragging Minsuh behind him like a lost puppy. “Ok, you take aisles 5-9, I’ll tackle anyone who gets in your way.”

“What are you-”

“Go go go!” Jungkook waves his soulmate on and Minsuh, for all her annoyance, jumps into action with a gleeful shriek. 

Doing the best speedwell they can manage, Minsuh keeps her head down even as her eyes rove over the shelves of supplies. They make it through aisles five and six, but have to pause for a while when they get to aisle 7 because they find a tape dispenser in the shape of an otter. 

“Cuuuute,” the two of them coo out at the same time. All it takes is single shared glance before Jungkook grabs it.

“We have to get this now.”

“Obviously.”

It’s at the end of that aisle that they find the dino highlighters, and they do indeed have backpacks on. Minsuh grabs a handful of them.

“Where’s the checkout?” She asks.

“This way,” Jungkook grabs Minsuh’s free hand and they head straight toward the front of the store. When Jungkook comes to a sudden stop, Minsuh narrowly avoids running straight into him. Hissing, she jabs him with a highlighter before seeing what it was that stopped him in his tracks.

The cashier is a girl probably around Minsuh’s age, wearing a Shooky headband. 

“Oh, you are so dead Jeon Jungkook.” Minsuh mutters before shoving her soulmate forward. 

“W-what? What are you doing? Shouldn’t we go to a different line?” Jungkook is looking about frantically, but Minsuh puts her back into it and successfully pushes him forward a few steps. 

“This was your idea in the first place, now deal with the consequences!” Minsuh hisses before handing him the highlighters. “Keys.”

“Have you been working out?” Jungkook asks even as he pouts and hands the keys over. 

“Why?”

“You just manhandled me!” Jungkook exclaims, drawing the attention of a few people. 

“Oh, that’s the ping pong practices Seohyun has been putting me through.” Winking up at him and watching as Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red, Minsuh backs away. “I’ll be waiting out in the car, should I send the bodyguards in?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine with just the one.”

Right, Minsuh forgets that there’s always at least one bodyguard always hovering nearby. With a short wave, she heads back out to the car, but not before she hears the unmistakable squeal of joy from the cashier. 

Instead of driving straight back to the neighborhood, Jungkook makes a stop at the company. 

“I need to show you something,” is all the explanation he provides before hopping out of the car. 

Leading Minsuh inside the building, they head straight for the elevator and Jungkook hits the button for the top floor. 

Wiggling her eyebrows, Minsuh leans into her soulmate. “What’s on the top floor?”

“Just something I thought you might like.”

“Guk it’s not Christmas yet.”

Shrugging, Jungkook gives Minsuh a quick peck on the top of the head, the both of them turning a little red. “Who said it had to be Christmas for me to give you anything?”

The elevator doors open wide and they set off again, Jungkook leading Minsuh to the middle of the hallway before instructing her to close her eyes. 

“Ok, your eyes are closed?”

“Mhm.”

“Just take a couple of steps...” taking her elbow, Jungkook gently leads Minsuh into the room he just opened. “And...open.”

Minsuh opens her eyes only to have them grow wide. A large desk sits in the middle of the room, a two comfy swivel chairs behind it. A small bonsai sits in the middle of the desk, which faces a whiteboard. 

There’s a microwave with a huge supply of popcorn and ramen sitting beside it, a couple of blankets, and a plethora of office supplies on the back table. 

Setting up the finishing touches, Jungkook drops the highlighters in a jar filled with pens and pencils, setting the tape dispenser beside it. Turning to look back at his soulmate, he twists with his hands. 

“Ever since we went public, I know you haven’t been able to go to the library to study anymore. Seohyun told me how you had to do everything in the kitchen at your apartment, which I know you’ll say it’s fine, but it’s not.” Jungkook opens up a closet at the back of the room. “I got to convert this room into a study area, just for us. We’re both busy, we’re both trying to get through university...I thought it would be nice to just have a space for the two of us to hole up and study.”

Minsuh doesn’t know what to say, which Jungkook takes as a sign for him to keep talking. Pushing his hair out of his face, he continues. 

“I’m really sorry that you can’t be a normal college student anymore. I know this might not make up for that, this isn’t me trying to fix everything. But I just thought it might help, you know? And this way we can both study and help each other, I can just come right up here to study after work...look, this closet, I was thinking maybe you could put your other school supplies here, you know? Like that one class you’re taking, what’s the name of it-”

“Guk.”

“O-oh, what?”

“I...thank you. I love it.”

“You do?”

Striding forward, the couple meets halfway. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Minsuh gives her soulmate a teary smile. “Yeah, I really do. I’ll be here all the time. It’s perfect.”

“Well, you know.” Jungkook has the ghost of a smile as he realizes that he did well. “It’s not much, but it’s ours.”

“Jungkook would you just kiss me already?”

“Is this another test where you tell me that I can’t ever say no to you?”

Rolling her eyes, Minsuh gets up on her tippy toes and ghosts her lips over his. “Do I need to ask again?”

Releasing a breathy laugh, Jungkook proves to her that no, Minsuh never needs to ask twice.

Make a BTS holiday request!

@eusticenatalie

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XVIII

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: alluding to more shit that happened. it’s me for cryptic for me.

• • •  

“You’re doing it wrong!”

“There’s not a wrong way to make a corndog!”

“Yes there is, and that’s what you’re doing! You don’t hold it like that, moron!” 

“Oh, I’m the moron?” 

You were close to dunking Troy's head in the cold grease. There was no reason for it to be as difficult as he was making it. 

“Yeah, you, asshat.” 

“Y/n. . .” turning to look at the counter you sighed a bit, seeing Mike, Lucas, Will and Max. 

“No! I’m not giving you food-”

“You wanted to talk to Steve’s co-worker, remember? We gotta go or we’re gonna miss our movie.” Mike interrupted, looking at you as it were obvious and that you were stupid. 

Sighing, you went to grab your bag, slipping off your work shirt in the process. “Y/n, we’re not allowed to leave through the store front.” Troy tried to tell you.

Coming back out in the tanktop and this time the jean shorts you’d put on under your uniform you glared at your younger co-worker. “If Rachel asks if I have been, I know who told, and don’t forget, a little girl broke your arm, and I’ll do worse.” climbing over the front counter and following the group of fourteen year olds across the hall to the ice cream parlor. 

Working the register was Robin, already looking annoyed with the kids there and mildly intrigued by you being there, holding your work clothes and wearing your backpack. 

Mike went up to the front, ringing the bell multiple times, much to Robin’s annoyance. “Hey, dingus, your children are here!”

The sliding frosted windows that separated the back room from the front slid open, and Steve leaned on the back counter. “Again? Seriously?” He had a pair of flimsy headphones on, and was holding the black walkman you’d bought for him. 

Instead of answering, Mike just rang the bell again. 

Sighing, Steve walked to the door and opened it for them. You watched as the four of them lifted the counter and went to the back. Steve eyes you for a second longer, offering a small smile and a nod before going to the back door to let the kids into the staff hallway. 

“Why are you here, sunshine?” Robin teased you, leaning forward on the counter. “Come to be melodramatic?” 

“My melodrama isn’t your business, Buckley. Except for what I need to talk to you about.” 

“Is it about. . .” she trailed off, not wanting to say what it was. 

You nodded in response. 

“So. . . yes or no?” 

“I don’t know!” You exclaimed as quietly as you could. “I don’t think so. . . I hope not.”

• • • 

Running a hand through your hair, you looked up at Steve, who was leaning against the side of the payphone, smiling like an idiot at you. Holding the public phone up to your ear, you listened to the ringing on the other end, until you heard Joyce’s groggy and tired voice on the other end. “Hello?” 

“Joyce, hey-”

“Y/n, sweetheart are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Someone at the dance spiked the punch, a few kids decided to drive home, I don’t really feel safe in the car knowing that Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove are drunk in the same car as each other with their dates.” 

Though you couldn’t see it, Joyce was pinching the bridge of her nose. “Did you or Steve drink any?” 

“We’re a little buzzed, we’re just gonna stay at the motel for the night.” You told her, looked up when Steve reached for your hair, absentmindedly playing with it. 

“Get some water in you, and rest. Drive home in the morning, okay?” 

“Yeah, of course. We’ll walk to the gas station and get some water and then come back. Drive back home first thing in the morning.”

You and Joyce said your goodbyes and hung up. 

When you looked up at Steve you saw that stupid smile still on his face. “Streetlights make you look pretty.” you told him with an equally stupid smile. 

“You’re always pretty.”

You just chuckled and shook your head. “No, I'm not.” you responded pulling your hair from his hands and going to walk to the front office of the motel you’d basically called home for your first months in Hawkins. 

“You calling me a liar, y/n?” 

Turning to look at Steve you smiled a bit and shook your head again. “I’m not calling you a liar, i’m calling you tipsy. So let’s get a room so you can sleep it off.”

“I’m not tipsy! I’m being serious.” Steve told you, walking towards you. He’d been flirty since the alcohol spiked punch had entered his system. Which was how you’d figured it out. When you’d been sitting at one of the tables, he was staring at you in a way that you could only say was respectful, and yet nothing else. 

So you’d looked over to the table to see Billy and Tommy at the table with their respective dates pouring the entirety of the flash they’d brought into the bowl. 

“Liquid courage, y/n, c’mon.” Steve reached out to you, holding you by your waist and staring down at you. 

“You’re so full of shit.” You laughed. 

• • •

You looked to Steve when the lights shut off. And he looked to you too, right before you averted your gaze to the frosted window. Hearing the lights shut off outside of the ice cream parlor as well.

“That’s weird.”

The last power outage you were in was caused by you and Jonathan, fighting over the outlets in the bathroom, with him wanting to shave and you needing to blowdry your hair. Joyce yelled at you for at least ten minutes before going to flip the power back on. Before that? Was when things went even more downhill for you in 83’ than they already were. 

Looking back to Steve when you heard the switch flicking back and forth you sighed a bit, leaning against the back of the chair Robin had sat you in. 

Watching as he continued to try and turn the lights back on, you tilted your head. “That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin told him/

“Oh, really?” 

“Oh my, god.” you mumbled as he then tried to do it faster. But just a second later the lights flickered back on as soon as he brought the switch up again. 

“Let there be light.” 

“Idiot.” you muttered to yourself, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. Like you were about to vomit on a roller coaster. And the single hotdog you’d had from work from lunch wasn’t agreeing with you. Bringing a hand to the back of your neck you brought the other to cover your mouth. 

“You okay?” Steve and Robin asked at the same time, with Steve holding a half finished ice cream cone in one hand and his scoop in the other while Robin held a customer’s change. 

Nodding you leaned forward a bit, hoping that changing the way you sat would change the nauseous feeling in you gut and throat. 

• • •

“Here you go, dork.” 

“Whatever, sunshine.” Will mocked, taking the plate of pancakes from you when you reached the table with Joyce. 

“Excuse you?” 

“That’s what your friend called you on the phone the other day, right?”

You wanted to kill Robin. Of course she called you that over the phone. You were regretting the day your art teacher was absent, and the sub handed out name tags that started with ‘Hello, i am’ and you being as sarcastic as you were, put ‘sunshine.’ 

She wouldn’t let go of it. 

Hearing Jonathan’s door open you looked over to the hallway, and almost fell onto the floor laughing, seeing the red kiss mark of his cheek while he was trying to button up his shirt. 

Sitting down you reached for the syrup, squeezing some onto your plate. “You dip your pancakes?” Will asked, disgusted. 

“And you still let your mother dress you?”

You listened in on Joyce and Jonathan as he practically rushed himself out of the door. 

“Ugh, gross.” Will spoke as Joyce came to sit at the table with you two. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.” she pointed out to her youngest son as he reached for the syrup from your hands. 

“I’m not gonna fall in love.” Will responded. 

When you looked at him, you saw a child. A fourteen year old boy who had been through too much for a kid his age. Others, you saw a fourteen year old boy who was struggling to accept who he was. And sometimes when he spoke, all you could hear was your dad. 

Joyce’s attention was caught by papers that had fallen from the fridge, making her get up and pick them from the floor. 

“So-”

“Don’t even make eye contact with me.” 

And you usually treated him like you would your own little brother. And in those moments, you wanted your little brother. You wanted to go to those stupid orchastra performances at the middle school and tease him for no reason.

“Isn’t Dustin coming back from camp today?” 

“I thought you said to not even make eye contact with you?”

You turned to look at him, noticing he was already staring at you expantly. You held eye contact with him, before dipping a finger in your syrup and wiping it on his face. 

WIll gasped in shock, bringing his hand up to touch the drop of syrup that began running down his cheek, all while you continued to eat your pancakes in peace. 

• • •

“For you.” 

“Thanks.” you mumbled, taking the ice cream cone from Robin. You didn’t know what the flavor was, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much. 

“Orange cream.” She told you, looking out the gap in the frosted windows. “I still can’t believe you two. Mostly you.” She grumbled under her breath, walking to the white board and dry erase marker on the counter. 

She had every reason to be frustrated with you two. She’d sat behind the two of you in history, saying she saw a chemistry between you two the entire year until the end of the school year when you asked to move seats to not be next to Steve. 

It was your fault. 

You fucked everything up.

It seemed to be either a skill, or a pattern. 

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin spoke as the two female customers walked away from the shop, pulling the whiteboard in front of her so Steve could see what was on it. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.” It sounded almost like she was scolding him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can count.” you watched him turn and face Robin as she drew a line. 

“You know that means you suck.” 

“Yep, I can read, too.” 

“Since when?”

“Second semester of his junior year.” You teased. 

“Okay, you,” Steve started, walking towards the counter, “shhhhh” he drawled out holding a finger to his lips. “You’re not even supposed to be back there, and we’re not supposed to give you free ice cream. It’s this stupid hat.” He grumbled. “I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature.”

You wanted to argue with him about that. You were good at arguing with him, had been since the day you two met. Sure, his hair was a good feature, and even when he didn’t style it, it looked good. 

“Yeah, company policy is a real drag. You know it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered. . . telling the truth?” 

You zoned out on their conversation, eating your scoop of ice cream, only being snapped out of your daze when you heard him yell at a group of customers, watching as Robin added another mark to the white board. 

“I’ll go to Melvald’s for you after work, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” 

• • •

“Hi, Linda.” You said in a cheerful sing song voice, walking into the front office of the motel, watching as the older woman turned away from the tv, a smle coming across her face. 

“Well, look at you! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Yeah, school and stuff, been super busy the last year or so.” You responded. “We need a room.” You told her with a small smile. She looked over your shoulder to Steve who was looking around the office, holding your bag. “It’s not like that.” you knew what she was thinking. 

She hummed a bit, clearly not believing you. “With boys like him? It’s always like that.” SHe responded, going to grab a key for you. “Same room you were in before. We added pullouts to each room.” 

“Linda!” You scolded, reaching for the key. “Not appropriate.” You smiled a bit then, turning away to Steve. “Let’s go.” 

Once in the motel room, you watched as Steve threw himself onto the bed. “You slept on this? For months?” He asked, crawling a bit further up onto the bed, laying his head on the pillow. “It’s so cozy.” He mumbled into the fresh linen. 

You smiled and shook your head, grabbing your bag from him and heading to the bathroom. Almost thankful that Will had thought about an overnight bag, just in case. You changed as quickly as you could, wanting to be in bed too. Not even bothering to think about walking to the gas station and getting water like Joyce had told you to do. 

Hanging your dress on the top of the door you dropped your bra behind the door along with your shoes, walking over to the bed and flopping onto the mattress beside him.

• • • 

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @nxncywheeler @yllwtaxi @songofcosplay @potatopooper05 @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan @yall-wildin-like-siriusly  @bisexualpears @ilovebucketbarnes @random-thoughts-003  @mochminnie @stevexscoops @cashmereandtears @sireddobrev @iris-suoh @multi-fandom-freak-lol @supred12 @ohmyitsfaith @beyond-the-gone​ @80strashbag​ @ah2113​ 

[skiller0dani]

Cherry Pie (1) | Billy Mitman

M A S T E R L I S T

smut | slow burn  requests info wanna be on a Timmy taglist? click here

surprise I wrote a Billy short series! For this however I’m not using Y/N, I have an actual OC name picked out for this character. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

lemme also clear some stuff up YES this is a teacher/student relationship story NO there are no adult/under-aged person relationships  YES I made Billy 18 in this story, because lets say he’s in his final semester of senior year.  NO smut will not be in every chapter of this short story. It’s a SLOW BURN. meaning I will be adding sexual tension to every chapter to build up the anticipation for when it finally happens. 

| Upon realizing her emotional and mental health was in desperate need of assistance, Miss Rachel Stevens had requested a week off in order to address these issues with a professional. To sub her senior English Class is Miss. Alice Perribow, the resident Art teacher at Valley High School. | 

***

MONDAY

Alice Perribow was what you’d imagine as a well put together woman. Smart, well dressed, on time, prepared, as a teacher she was the definition of responsible. This was simply to mask the fact that her entire life was falling apart, going through a messy divorce and property battle over her perfect house with her soon to be ex husband was causing some outside stress. Alice never brought home stress to work, she allowed herself to indulge in the happiness her job gave her, even for 8 hours a day. So when Rachel Stevens came knocking on Alice’s office door after hours and pleaded her to sub- Alice was hesitant to say yes but agreed anyway. She always has had an inability to say no to people who have shown her nothing but kindness, and Rachel was very kind. Alice’s hair was messier than it normally would have been this Monday morning, she had been running late due to a mistimed alarm. Her brunette hair was thrown up in a messy bun and her short heels clicked down the hallway as she rushed to Rachel’s classroom. The only way Alice could make this work was by subbing in the afternoon, the librarian Mr. Fredricks subbed the morning classes. Alice also had to teach Art in the morning, but didn’t have classes in the afternoon, usually just private lessons with students. 

Alice was quite pleased to see no students waiting in the classroom when she pushed in, and unceremoniously dropped her things onto the desk sending a binder of papers crashing to the ground. “Shit,” Alice mumbled to herself as she crouched down to gather the papers. Suddenly a pair of dark tennis shoes joined her as someone crouched to help her pick up the papers. When Alice looked up, her throat closed only slightly upon looking into the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. A pair of green eyes that belonged to Billy Mitman, “thank you Billy.” Alice smiled, taking the papers from him as she stands. She’d seen Billy around the hallways before, and he’d also been by her office a few times for piano lessons. “Of course Miss Perribow.” He says, flashing her a smile before turning down the row of chairs to his desk. His eyes stayed on her and he only wondered where Miss Stevens was for a fleeting moment before his focus returned to Miss Perribow. She was beautiful, her dark hair framed her face perfectly and her eyes were so bright as she turned to the whiteboard. Miss Perribow was a bit curvier than Miss Stevens, and Billy couldn’t take his eyes off the way those jeans hugged her hips. Billy knows it’s wrong for him to be thinking of his teachers this way, but girls his own age don’t interest him. 

She so gracefully wrote her name out on the whiteboard as more students trickled in. Margot came in and beamed when she saw Miss Perribow, “good afternoon Miss Perribow!” She exclaimed and Alice turned with a smile on her face. Alice already knew Margot fairly well, she had taken Alice’s Art class every single year of her high school career. “Margot, so good to see you.” Alice said, a dimple popping out on her left cheek. Billy smiles fondly at the small dimple in her cheek. Soon the first bell was ringing and Alice closed the door before turning to address the class, “I’m sure a lot of you already know me but in case you don’t- I’m Miss Perribow. I’m going to be the afternoon sub for Miss Stevens this week.” She smiled and Billy noticed two boys adjacent to his left sharing a look before turning their horny gaze back towards Alice. “So from what I understand is that you were about to start the Canterbury Tales yeah?” She asks for clarification, and Margot nodded happily. Alice smiles warmly at Margot before pulling a copy of the book, “what would you say the overall theme of this tale is?” She asks and the entire room falls into silence. Margot glances around before raising her hand, “it’s clearly about courtly love. These two men, once family nearly beat each other to death to prove they deserve her affections. In my opinion, it’s a tale of how poisoning love can be.” 

One of the boys to Billy’s left snickers, “did we read the same thing? Because I’m pretty sure one of them got sick from a gnarly case of blue balls.” He says with a smirk, and most of the class erupts in laughter. He’s a big guy, definitely a football player and built like a tank. In fact if Billy recalls correctly, that’s what most people call him: Tank, even though his real name is Leon. He leans forward on his desk, eyeing Alice. “Do you know what that is Miss Perribow?” Tank smiles slyly and Billy feels annoyance bubbling in his chest. Alice manages a small smile as she turns her attention towards Tank, “you know Leon, I think it would be a much better idea to return to the Knights Tale.” Alice dismisses but Tank turns to his friends and smirks before clearing his throat loudly. “It’s when a girl gets a guys engine revving, and he pops a hard one, but then she doesn’t do anything about it. She just leaves him there with blue balls. Get it? Cause they’re sad.” Tank raises an eyebrow as Alice turns to look back at him. She smiles warmly, doing her best to keep her frustration at bay as she strolls down the row towards Tank’s desk. She leans over on Tank’s desk, placing her palms flat on the surface of the desk. “Tank, it seems you have forgotten that I know your mother personally. Shall I give her a call and inform her that you thought it would be appropriate to educate the class on sex ed today?” She asks, her tone serious while Tank’s cheeks turn scarlet.

The class giggles quietly as Tank sinks back into his desk, but when Alice turns Tank whips his phone out and snaps a photo of her ass. “Delete that.” Billy snaps loudly, drawing Tank’s attention as well as everyone else in the room. Alice turns, her eyebrows furrowed as Tank and Billy are locked in a deep glaring match. “What the hell are you talking about freak?” Tank snaps and Billy takes a deep breath through his nose as Alice makes her way back down the row of desks. “I saw you take a picture of Miss Perribow, and I know you didn’t take it because you really like her jeans.” Billy snaps and Alice’s eyebrows raise as she turns towards Tank. Tank’s cheeks are red, but not with embarrassment- this time it’s with anger. “Leon, please see me after class. Billy, you too.” Alice says, looking over the both of them before returning to the lesson. Billy keeps his eyes on Tank for the remainder of class, and he hates when he sees Tank shamelessly look down Alice’s shirt. When the bell rings, neither of the boys move as Alice walks towards them and sits in the desk in front of Billy. Their eyes meet and Alice quickly looks away when she feels the tingles shoot through her body. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?” She asks, looking between the boys. 

“Yeah Tank is a pervert and took a picture of your ass.” Billy snaps, his voice tense as he glares over at Tank. Alice’s cheeks flush as she averts her eyes to Tank, “is that true?” She asks and Tank rolls his eyes. “Which part? Because no I’m not a pervert, I’m a lover baby. Did I take a picture of your ass? Hell yeah, I’ll need some jack off material for later.” Tank snickers, simply enjoying the rise he gets out Billy with every word out of his mouth. Billy pushes up from his desk angrily, and Tank stands too. The two of them are chest to chest and they stand eye to eye, although Billy is the same height as Tank- he’s not nearly as muscular. Alice stands, and when Tank’s eyes avert to her Billy immediately steps in front of her. “Boys, you both need to calm down. I think this conversation should be continued in Mr. Alvarez’s office.” Alice says, trying to move between the boys but Billy won’t let her get anywhere near Tank. “I’d happily bend you over his desk if that’s what you mean.” Tank smiles and Billy is lurching forward before Alice arms curl around him to hold him back. “Tank you need to leave,” Alice snaps and he shrugs as he casually walks out of the classroom. The bell rings again, signaling the end of the school day as Billy stands in the classroom- his chest heaving. 

“Billy, you know he was saying that just to make you angry right?” Alice says gently, and he shrugs as he reaches for his bag. Billy begins to head for the door when Alice’s left hand catches his eye, “Miss Perribow, aren’t you married?” He asks, stopping when he notices her lack of wedding ring. Alice is surprised to say the least, she didn’t imagine any of her students paid that much attention. “We’re um- separated.” Alice explains awkwardly and Billy nods as his eyes stay fixed on her. Alice’s cheeks heat up under Billy’s gaze and she takes a deep breath to control her emotions. She’s just lonely without Ben that’s all, she’s projecting her feelings of loneliness on a handsome student. He’s a teenager, and she needs to get herself together. “What happened?” He asked and what scared Alice the most about Billy’s question, was how genuinely he asked her. The look on his face makes her think he genuinely cares, but she knows about Billy. Rachel gave her a bit of a warning on Billy’s own issues with projecting his feelings on others. He doesn’t really care, he’s just projecting. “Sometimes things just don’t work out.” Alice smiles through the breaking of her heart. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, ignoring the look that Billy is giving her. A look that says he isn’t buying her bullshit line. 

“Was he a douchebag or something?” Billy asks, sitting back against a front row desk as Alice begins to pack up her things into her bag. “Billy, language.” Alice scolds gently, ignoring the cheeky smile on Billy’s face when he notices her flushed cheeks. “He did something didn’t he?” Billy says, and Alice gives him another look before sighing deeply and running a hand down her face. “Yes he did, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” Alice says and Billy nods instantly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Alice turns to her book and begins to look over the lesson for tomorrow as Billy makes his way out of the classroom, and he nearly says something he shouldn’t but he bites his tongue. Alice spends at least another hour sitting at that desk, writing out the lesson for tomorrow. In the back of her mind her thoughts drift back to Billy, he’s charming and sweet in a boyish way. He’s smart, and he thinks deep thoughts- Rachel says he thinks quite philosophically. Tank however is becoming a problem that deeply concerns Alice, he’s much taller and much stronger than she is. The next morning she’ll have to talk to Mr. Alvarez about him. 

The sun is setting when Alice makes her way towards the parking lot but out of the corner of her eye she sees a figure leaning against the school. Turning her head, her cheeks warm when she sees Billy leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette in his mouth. “Billy?” She calls, and he glances her way with a smile on his face. Alice hugs her bag to her chest as she makes her way towards Billy, “what are you still doing here?” She asks him and Billy shrugs, taking another drag from his cigarette. He rests his head back, his signature blue hoodie loosely hanging around his shoulders. “Skipped the bus.” He says with a smile as he blows smoke out. He turns his gaze to hers and he cocks an eyebrow when he notices her cheeks warm. Alice steps back, “why?” She asks him, and he chuckles as he drops his cigarette butt to the ground before putting it out with his shoe. Billy pushes off the wall and steps towards Alice, and her breath catches in her throat. “I wanted to see you Miss Perribow,” Billy breathes and Alice feels a shiver run down her back. This is a student. Alice steps back further, trying to distance herself from Billy. “Billy that’s- that’s not appropriate. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alice says, her voice rushed as she turns towards her car. 

“I don’t have a ride, so I hope you’re comfortable leaving a student alone at night with no way to get home. Guess I’ll have to walk.” Billy says, his voice lilted mischievously. Alice halts, her back still facing him. As a teacher, she can’t leave him here alone. “I’ll give you a ride, this once.” Alice says and Billy smirks as he lifts his bag over his shoulder before falling into step next to Alice. “It’ll be our little secret Miss Perribow.” He says with a wink and Alice simply slides into the driver seat of her car. The silence in the car is a tad bit uncomfortable as Alice pulls the car out of the parking lot, and heads towards Billy’s house. “Is Perribow your maiden name?” Billy asks suddenly, the street lamps illuminating his face as the car passes underneath them. Alice bites at her bottom lip as she turns the corner, “yeah it is.” She says and Billy nods with a soft hum. Alice dreads heading back home, Ben is probably there and she doesn’t feel like facing him at this moment. “What did he do? Your ex-husband?” Billy asks, his voice soft as he looks over at her with gentle eyes. Alice feels a rush of emotion sneak up on her, god this is so unprofessional. She keeps her eyes on the road as she softly sniffles, “he cheated on me.” Billy is quiet, but Alice knows his eyes are on her. 

When the tears come, Alice feels beyond embarrassed and refuses to look at Billy. “Pull over.” He says, and Alice pulls in front of a house putting the car in park. She wipes her eyes as she turns to look at him, “is this your house?” She asks, trying to divert the attention from her misty eyes. Billy turns in his seat to look at her, one of his hands coming to hold hers. “No, but you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He says and Alice pulls her hand from his while quickly shaking her head. Alice takes a deep breath before turning to look at him, “Billy no I need to get you home, your parents are worried sick I’m sure.” She argues, it’s time to be the responsible adult. Billy stubbornly shakes is head, “nope told them I was hanging with Sam and wouldn’t be home until late. Look if you don’t want me here I’ll get out and just hang out until later-” Billy starts, turning to get out of the car but Alice places a hand on his arm to stop him. “Just tell me where you live-” She asks but Billy opens the door and exits the car. With a heavy sigh Alice exits her car after him, “Billy! It’s not safe for you alone.” She tries to reason but he just keeps walking. Feeling panic and worry for his well being Alice calls out after him once more. 

“Okay you’re right! I don’t want to be alone, but you are a student. An underaged student. I’m breaking a law just being with you now after hours.” Billy stops, and then turns to look at her. Their eyes lock as he makes his way back towards her, “I’m old enough to know what I want. I want to help you tonight.” Billy argues but Alice waves her hands. Why does she have to be so drawn to him? “You’re 17 Billy.” She protests and Billy laughs bitterly. “I’m turning 18 tomorrow. I’m practically an adult already.” He says, and she knows she won’t change his mind- it’ll be dangerous for him to wander around at night alone. “Billy-” She starts but Billy cuts her off, “Alice.” Her words die in her throat as she shivers upon hearing her name roll off Billy’s tongue. Alice stands silent, her eyes fluttering as she looks at Billy and finally she enters her car. Billy slides into the passenger seat, “I’m hungry for ice cream. I have money.” He says and Alice feels reluctant and anxious as she hesitantly starts the engine of her car. She takes off towards the nearest ice cream shop, ignoring how her heart races in his presence. Alice is aware of Billy’s behavioral issues, and she’s not sure if he’s currently on his medication or not. 

Once they’d gotten ice cream and parked in an empty parking lot, Billy turned to Alice again. “Who did he cheat on you with?” He asks and Alice has no idea why he is so interested in her failed marriage, but it is kind of nice to talk to someone about it. “His secretary. Screwed her at work, came home to me.” Alice laughed bitterly, not even worrying about being professional anymore. Clearly it doesn’t matter to Billy whether or not she’s his teacher, he’s determined to break down her walls. “He sounds like a dick.” Billy says and the simplicity of his comment, despite how complicated their situation is makes Alice laugh softly. Alice spoons more ice cream into her mouth, “yeah he is a dick.” She agrees and Billy smiles next to her. Alice turns to look at Billy, admiring his side profile for a moment longer then she should. “Billy, why don’t you hang out with people your age? Instead you spent time with Miss Stevens, and now me.” She asks and Billy pauses, as though he’s searching for the right words. “Because you’re smart, beautiful, experienced. You’re a real person, not just some high school kid caught up in shit that doesn’t actually matter.” He says, his eyes locking on hers once again. Before Alice can even move Billy is leaning over the center console and pressing his lips to hers. Alice freezes for a moment before melting against him, her lips moving with his for a fraction of a second before her mind once again returns to clarity. 

Alice yanks away from him, panic pounding in her chest. “You’re 17, and I’m your teacher what the hell am I doing?” Alice panics, her hands fumbling to start the car. Billy tries to reach for her hand, but she won’t even touch him. “Alice it’s okay, I know what I want-” He starts but Alice vigorously shakes her head, her hands digging into her hair as she drops her head to the steering wheel. Billy reaches out for her once more, “Alice you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted that.” He reassures her with a hand rubbing down her back but Alice snaps up and gently pushes his hand off her- despite the fact that he was actually calming her down. “My name is Miss Perribow, and you need to tell me where you live William.” She says sternly, her eyes focused straight ahead. Billy leans back in his seat, mumbling his address and she takes off. Alice’s hands are trembling as she drives quickly, and she hates how her lips are still tingling from the slight contact with his. This is wrong. How she’s feeling is wrong. “Alice, I know you wanted it. I felt you lean into me, and you can deny it all you want but I felt the spark. I know you felt it too.” Billy snaps once they arrive at his house, slamming the car door once he exits. 

Alice exhales a shaky breath once his front door is closed and she drives down to her house, which funnily enough isn’t far from Billy’s house. When the garage closes behind her, she drags herself into the house and sure enough Ben is sitting at the kitchen counter. “Where have you been? I’ve been so worried baby,” He says, his voice soft with concern as he stands to approach her. Alice waves him off, feeling bile rising in her throat when he calls her baby. “Ben please don’t.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her pointer and thumb as she kicks her shoes off. “Don’t call me that. You know we’re divorcing.” She says, her voice tired and he doesn’t push her. He watches her trudge up the stairs, but something about her seems off tonight. Like her mind is elsewhere. As Alice pulls herself into bed, she can’t get a certain pair of green eyes out of her head. She can’t forget the feeling of his lips on hers, and she knows the rest of this week is going to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. 

***taglist*** @irishbish​ @90sthemedsunsets​ @newletas​ @londonmademedoit​ @80sangelics​

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part One: The Beginning

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! 

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here!

I flattened my skirt with nervous hands in which had already clammed up with excitement. The day had finally come where I’d start my new job as print journalist at Essence, a small but ever-growing lifestyle magazine company. My heels clacked against the wood floor as I quietly greeted the receptionist before making my way into the elevator. Pressing the button with my knuckle and waiting for the doors to open, I found myself playing with the ruffled sleeves of my blouse, seeking something to pass the inevitable time in which my impatience could not handle. Once the doors had opened, I quickly slid inside—pressing the third floor button almost immediately—before taking this intermission as a chance to double-check my appearance.

I used the front camera on my phone as a mirror, as I played with my hair, making sure it fell in the same loose waves I had styled before I left my apartment that morning. I also made sure the subtle lip stain that tinted my lips was still in tact as well, making me smile in content at my reflection before putting my phone away in my purse as the elevator doors opened again, revealing my arrival to my destination. I took a left, approaching Lauren Sawyer’s office, the CEO of the company, just like I’d done for my interview. Although the rollercoaster-falling feeling in my stomach was similar to the feeling I’d had during the interview, this was a different kind of excitement; now, I actually had the job. With three knocks to her wooden door and a few seconds of the somehow-intimidating door staring back at me, she swung the door opened and smiled in realization of my presence.

“Y/n, welcome to the office!” she greeted me proudly, holding her hand out to shake.

“Officially this time,” I added with a toothy smile, grabbing her hand to reciprocate her firm shake.

“I cannot wait to show you your new desk and give you an official tour of the building!” She gushed, exiting her office and heading straight down the minute hallway to the right of the elevator, which then opened up to a wide room with multiple rows of desks.

The left wall had exposed brick with huge windows lining the whole thing, looking out to the busy streets of New York. The entire room was filled with the sounds of people typing on their keyboards, but it was the perfect welcoming for my writer’s soul.

“I want you to meet a few people before we get started,” she informed me, leading me up past rows and rows of people, taking turns staring at their computer screens and keyboards back and forth with focus written on their facial features.

She walked in between rows of people working and typing away, some looking up from their screens and glancing at the new presence. The rows consisted of tables large enough to fit about three people on each side, facing towards each other with their computers dividing them. She finally came to a stop to a woman in a floral dress and short ginger hair. She had big, black headphones sitting on her head as she stared at the screen in front of her while she typed quickly. As she finally noticed Lauren and I, she quickly grasped the headphones and tore them off of her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Sorry, I didn’t even see you guys,” she apologized with a soft voice.

“No need to apologize for being focused,” Lauren gleamed at her. She gestured her arm out to me. “This is Y/n, she’s a new print journalist.”

I stuck my hand out, which the girl gladly took into her own with a gentle shake. She looked young, looking about my age, maybe even younger.

“I’m Faith,” she introduced, before returning her delicate hand to her lap.

“Faith is another one of our print journalists. She’s been working here for about two years now, so if you have any questions, she’ll be able to answer them for you. I think you two will get along lovely,” Lauren informed me.

After introducing me to Faith, she introduced me to the other print journalists for the company, some of which I could tell took their job more seriously than others. Then, she introduced me to the editors. She walked over to a desk where a brunette male sat, seeming to be multitasking by sipping at a coffee and typing at the same time.

“This is Dean, he’s one of our sub-editors. His job is to make sure our print journalists, like you, compose work that’s grammatically and factually correct. He works closely with the art team as well, to make sure the images and words compliment each other perfectly,” she explained.

“Don’t make me sound too perfect, you know I’m always screwin’ around with George,” he joked, making Lauren roll her eyes. With this, he revealed a thick British accent, startling me.

“Sometimes I wish that sub-editors didn’t have to work so closely with the art team,” she sighed, laughing. “If you find yourself working with him, you’ll no doubt find yourself meeting George, too; I can’t seem to separate the pair, it’s like trying to separate two best friends from working on a school project together.”

“Hey, we accomplish loads together! We’re a great team, George and I,” he defended.

“He’s right,” she said in defeat, looking at me. “But I won’t admit that to him.” She winked.

After leaving the brunette to his work, she gave me a tour of the whole building before finally showing me to my desk. It sat next to the window, and there was enough individual space that I could decorate with a few things. It wasn’t ideal for my mild claustrophobia, but it was manageable. I was at least thankful I wasn’t sat in the middle of the row, with people on both sides of me.

I also ended up being sat across from Dean, the brunette sub-editor. I didn’t mind, I thought she’d actually given me an advantage, being physically close to someone I’d have to work closely with. Lauren had also informed me that there would be a meeting with the journalists and editors in an hour from then about new content ideas, which would be a good experience for me to listen to and take mental notes. About ten minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, Dean stood up and offered me to join him for the meeting, as he figured I may have trouble remembering where the specific conference room was; I hadn’t been able to memorize the complicated large building yet, anyway. I accepted his invitation, and followed him through a hallway.

“Lauren’s kind of shit at training new people,” he confessed, leading me through the twists and turns of the building.

“I’m not even sure where to get started,” I admitted, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m sure one of the other writers can help you with that,” he elaborated. “I can help you with the process of sending the writing to the sub-editors, but I don’t have much knowledge about the actual writing aspect.”

He stopped in front of a door, opening it for me, revealing others I’d previously met, all sat at a long table. The table faced a whiteboard with messy handwriting already scribbled onto it. He pulled a seat out for me, making me blush and seat myself before he took a seat next to me. The head editor I’d been introduced to earlier strolled into the room alongside her PA, her assistant, who scurried over to an empty seat with a laptop. The head editor, who I’d forgotten and was reminded of her name Connie, cleared her throat before starting the meeting.

She began by explaining that they were in need of article ideas for the following weeks. She started with the beauty and fashion editors, as we all listened to them pitch ideas. It was interesting, hearing the pop culture references they were coming up with, as this had been new territory compared to my last job. Once they had come up with ideas and deadlines, she focused on the article ideas for the journalists.

Faith, the ginger-fellow-journalist, cleared her throat before speaking. “I was actually able to get in contact with one of the producers of The Bachelor, and I was thinking of conducting a Skype interview.”

“That’s wonderful! Get that interview scheduled as soon as possible and let’s talk about deadlines later,” Connie ordered, in awe of Faith’s plan.

Other journalists began speaking up, all trying to impress Connie just as much as Faith had. With the pressure and the new environment, I wasn’t able to come up with anything myself. My silence caught Connie’s attention, dragging her emerald eyes toward my shy y/e/c ones.

“I don’t expect you to come up with anything just yet, Y/n; after all, it is your first day,” she reassured me. “However, make sure you use this week to your advantage by taking notes. And, I expect a pitch from you next week.”

I nodded sharply at her instructions, before listening in on the rest of the pitches and deadline dates. She called the meeting to an end soon enough, everyone exiting the room at once in attempt to get to their keyboards as quickly as possible. I followed behind Dean quietly, mind filled with endless thoughts concluding my first meeting at Essence. Dean could sense this, as he spoke up once we’d gotten back to our desks.

“Connie can be a bit intense.” His thick British accent seeping through.

I laughed dryly. “You think?”

I began looking and reading through articles on the Essence website, taking notes. I’d made a separate document page for these specific notes, leaving specific quotations that inspired me and that I felt were important for me to remember. After reading for hours and ignoring the strain in my eyes, I was interrupted by the grumbling of my stomach. I frowned, looking at the small clock in the corner of my computer screen. It read 1:03 pm, meaning I’d missed lunch. I got up from my seat and walked over to the cafeteria, relying on my memory as navigation. The small “cafeteria” held a snack bar, a cabinet set filled with snacks and food, and other kitchen supplies like a fridge, sink, and a microwave.

I decided to make myself a salad from the snack bar and adding a side of cashews to keep me full until dinner. I brought the plate back to my desk and went on my phone, replying back to the texts my roommate had sent me throughout the morning.

“Y/n, what’s your email?”

I looked up from my phone screen and to the brunette across from me, swallowing the bits of lettuce that I’d been chewing for longer than usual. 

“Just for the future,” he added to normalize his question. I nodded quickly and looked around for something to write on.

“Right, um...” I grabbed a sticky-note from my purse and scribbled my email address onto it before reaching over and handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he stuck the sticky-note onto the table next to his keyboard and resumed typing. 

I turned my attention back onto my salad and my phone screen, continuing to digitally converse with my roommate. My phone buzzed with an email notification, as my head spun to my computer screen. I opened up a new tab, signing into my email in curiosity. I clicked on the new email from the email address “deanchapman7″. Opening up the email, there was a meme image with nothing else attached. I laughed out loud, bringing my hand to my mouth at the sudden reaction. I leaned over to look at him, biting back giggles, as he looked at me innocently. 

“What's so funny?” he smirked.

I shook my head before searching through the memes on my phone, sending myself one of my favorites, before sending it to him. As soon as I heard his mouse click, he snorted and leaned over to look at me from his computer. I copied his previous innocent composure.

“What’s so funny?” I chewed on my lip. He rolled his eyes, before returning his blue irises back to his screen. 

I brought my eyes back to my phone screen, immediately telling my roommate that I’d made a new friend already. With a finished lunch and some more note-taking, the day came to an end as I watched the sun set on the city through the window beside me; that was something I could get used to.

The next day, I had a full day of note-taking ahead of me that I couldn’t say I was looking forward to. I greeted the brunette across from me, as he sipped at his coffee and waved back at me silently, acknowledging my presence but was too caught up in his work to carry a conversation at that moment. I opened my document and pulled up some more articles and began my venture into more endless note-taking. I’d also taken a break to order a pair of Bluetooth headphones from Amazon, since most of my coworkers seemed to have them on their head while working. I wondered if they were listening to music or a podcast while working, and if so, then maybe that helped them focus.

I watched over as Dean aggressively typed across from me before groaning and covering his face with his palms. He rubbed his eyes, standing up and exiting the office, heading down one of the hallways. I bit my lip in curiosity at this sudden outburst, but returned to my work. 

“Excuse me?”

I looked up across from me to see a tall man leaning against Dean’s desk, looking at me. He had dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and his eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in frustration. 

I cleared my throat. “Uhm, yes?”

“Have you seen Dean anywhere? I need to talk to him about something, but he hasn’t been answering my emails,” he surprised me with his British accent, matching Dean’s. Do a lot of people have British accents here?

“Uh,” I stuttered, trying to come up with words as his facial features distracted me. His hair was styled upwards, strands forming soft waves. “He just left not too long ago.” I blurted, pointing towards the hallway in which Dean had exited to.

The man sighed, running his hand through his hair and flaring his nostrils. 

“When he comes back, can you tell him that George was here looking for him?”

“Yes, of course,” my voice hitting a pitch slightly higher than my normal tone. I watched as he stomped away, before stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel, facing me once again. I felt a lump in my throat as his irises scanned my face.

“Are you new here?” he asked, his previous frustration washed away as his tone sounded more innocent this time. 

I nodded, trying my best not to blush under his stare.

“I started here yesterday, I’m a new print journalist,” I stated, trying to sound as professional as I could with his attention on me.

“I’m George, I’m Dean’s mate; I’m the art director here.” He leant forward onto Dean’s desk again, sticking out his hand for me to shake it. 

So that’s George. I grabbed his hand and gave it a delicate shake, watching as he maintained eye contact for a moment before letting go. 

“Judging where he left, I’m thinking he went to go find me,” George laughed, running another hand through his hair and resting the other on his hip. I stared at his navy blue button up, which fit him just right, and his slacks. My eyes traveled to his belt before quickly looking away and mentally cursing myself for looking at him so intimately. 

“He seemed upset when he left,” I admitted, recalling his groan and the way he’d put his face in his hands. 

“Ah,” George clicked his tongue. “That would be my fault. Well, not my fault, but the contents in my email regarding one of the picture editors. Long story short, someone fucked up and it interferes with his deadline. Poor bastard.”

“Jesus, that doesn't sound good,” I chewed on my lip, not quite sure what to say, but wanting to carry on the conversation. 

He laughed, flashing a smile I wish I hadn’t seen, because it made him even more attractive. I was practically jelly in my chair at his point. 

“Yeah, we’ll get it sorted out; we always do,” he confessed with a closed-lip smile. “Well, it was nice seeing you...”

“Y/n,” I introduced with a sheepish smile.

“Y/n,” he corrected himself. “Tell Dean I was lookin’ for him?” 

I nodded. “Will do, as long as he’s not still pissed off; that was kind of scary.”

He laughed again, crinkles by his eyes appearing. 

“Dean? Scary? Bloke’s a teddy bear!” he exclaimed. “Dean wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets overwhelmed sometimes, but what sub-editor doesn’t?”

I smiled at his comparison between Dean and a teddy bear. George was right, the brunette seemed extremely kind. I thought back to the day before, when he’d asked me for my email address to send me a meme. Suddenly, Dean appeared from the hallway he'd disappeared into earlier, widening his eyes at George.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, mate!”

“As have I,” George responded, a lot more calmly. “I met your new desk mate too, by the way, she's lovely.”

I could feel my cheeks turning scarlet at that point due to his compliment. His accent extended the weight of his words, and I knew there was no way I didn’t look like a tomato. Dean looked over to me and sent me a smile.

“Sorry about this idiot,” he glared at his friend, who rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Let’s go to my office,” George suggested. 

And with that, the boys took off toward the elevator. I watched as they walked together, backs turned towards me, before George turned his head to me for a moment, looking at me one last time before they disappeared. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath before I was practically gasping for air. My hands went to my cheeks, which to my expectations, were on fire. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated with my cheeks habitually turning red every time I was in the least bit embarrassed. 

I looked across from me at Dean’s empty desk, where George had been leaning against, looking at me, just minutes ago. I chewed on my bottom lip, remembering the way his hair looked, the way his hand felt, the way his eyes bore into mine. I had to pinch myself to discontinue the thoughts, remembering that I was at my job. He’s probably slept with every woman in this office, I thought to myself. That thought made me sick, sick enough to quiet my thoughts about him and resume my work. It wasn’t possible for a man that handsome to be such a gentlemen, there had to be something nasty about him. With the effect he had on me, I wondered if he used his charm on other girls in order to get them to sleep with him. That had to be it, right? I hoped that I wouldn’t be seeing him again anytime soon, not sure what I’d do and what thoughts I’d have again. But a small part of me, deep down, begged to see him again.

[friendlylocalwhumper]

caution: this drabble contains explicit child abuse (from lux’s past, but written as if it’s current). please proceed with caution.

When he hears it, Lux’s movements falter for just a moment. Flinches are mocked, are punished, so he doesn’t let the remembered pain associated with the clinking of a belt buckle jerk his shoulders up or force him to step closer to his room. He hasn’t done anything particularly annoying today so it’s probably not gonna end up with him in pain. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

There are eyes on him. Lux can tell. He hates these long, terrifying moments when his father’s eyes lock onto him, searching for some glaring fault to tear at. The warlock turns the page of his chapter book and tries not to shift his weight on the squeaky kitchen chair.

He’s read this page about four times but the words still aren’t sinking in. It takes another two attempts for him to build up the courage to flick his eyes up, to glance over toward the living room.

There his dad lounges in his armchair, looking just as dangerous as ever. Sometimes Lux wishes he had the kind of dad who has that same type of chair and seems to melt into it, out of shape and lazy, tossing an empty beer can at the TV at most. But no, his dad isn’t like that. He’s a proud veteran of the war, short sleeves rolled up to display the tattoos from the service, his gun on the table beside him in pieces ready to be reassembled. And he’s staring straight at Lux.

His belt is undone, the end hanging free of the buckle. Lux swallows past a lump in his throat and meets his father’s eyes again. Just an angry day, he guesses, and the only solution is hitting. He dog-ears the page of his book subtly.

“Get over here.”

The paperback flops onto the table as Lux hurries to stand. His legs carry him in the exact opposite direction of where he wants to go. “Yeah, Dad?”

There’s nothing but mild disgust on his father’s face. In his resignation, Lux’s mind runs through all the serious dangers he needs to keep track of: the sniper bullet in the glass case that’ll be used to kill him one day, the unassembled gun on the side table, the bat by the back door. It’ll definitely just be the belt right now, so he’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.

“Get on your knees.”

Lux hesitates, searching for some excuse to avoid this. But searching for a lie and then being caught in it is dangerous, so after his few seconds of inaction, the warlock kneels, eyes searching for the spot he likes to lock onto. There, a hole, a bullet hole in the carpet. That’s from when he was little and he tottered over to fumble his dad’s gun off the table only to set it off by accident. He got hurt for that, but whatever the punishment was, it’s faded in his memory in the haze of all the others. It just feels like a small, safe act of rebellion to remember pissing the guy off that badly, startling him with a gunshot that came out of nowhere.

The belt clinks again. In eleven years, Lux hasn’t managed to figure out why the belt is used for hurting. Punches work well enough, and they’re random, they’re easy to use and move on, get back to doing other things. This whole thing, though, being made to kneel and take off his shirt and take hits that leave plain stinging, and then welts, and then eventually dark bruises if it goes on long enough? It’s just a lot of work to be put into one little punishment. It’s embarrassing, somehow, to have made his dad so angry that this whole process is the only way to make a lesson sink in.

He doesn’t have a shirt to take off, so there’s one step they can skip. Already he’s thinking about school tomorrow; how the welts will chafe under his shirt, how he’ll be grumpy and distracted, how he’ll get in trouble for his attitude and maybe end up in detention. He could try to be nice and act fine, he thinks, to avoid that, but the thought of having to pretend like he isn’t in pain just makes him angry. Lux curls his fists around two little fluffed-up tufts of carpet.

Thwack. Lux jerks and his brow crumples; he has to bite his lip to keep quiet. He wouldn’t get yelled at for making a sound, probably, but just knowing that his dad would see it as a sign of weakness makes him want to prove he’s tough. The bullet hole in the carpet remains, and his eyes stay locked on it even as they tear up with the coming blows of folded leather against his back. It’s eerily silent in between the lashes. He never feels more alone than when he’s taking the belt, when he remembers sorely that no one is near, no one can make it stop. Not even his mom, who couldn’t ever stop it from coming, but who helped after, all gentle and worried. No, Lux is alone. Alone with his dad, and the belt, and their quiet house.

~

Walking through the hallways at school with welts under his shirt is when his thoughts are always darkest. When he’s bitter that no one’s noticed what’s been done to him, and when he desperately hopes that no one will notice. Sometimes he gets home to find small lines of blood on the inside of his shirt from where the worst welts apparently bled, and he crumples with relief knowing that the blood didn’t seep through and get him caught.

He steps to avoid students hurrying to their classes, angling his shoulders to avoid all bustling. If anything, a backpack, an arm, a swinging locker meets his back, he’s going to make a sound. The teachers standing at their doors waiting for their students watch him, some subtly and some with open concern or judgement. Lux adjusts the textbooks in his arm, cheeks flushing. Yeah, he’s got his books for once. Puts a strain on his back that’s no fun, but he’s so anxious over what his dad will do if he gives him a reason to get angry, so today he’s gonna try in his classes. That was the plan, anyway, that he formed last night at 2am to calm himself down from a wave of panic. He can try in his classes, and he won’t get detention, and everyone will be a little less pissed at him than usual.

History class. That’s this period, and it’s going to be good. A relief, maybe even some fun. Lux hustles, a little bit, to get to his favorite teacher’s class on time.

Mr. Carter holds the door open for him with his usual smile. Lux flashes a half-smile back. If Mr. Carter ever suspects anything or worries about Lux, he doesn’t let it show, not at the start of class. Lux thinks he knows more than he lets on, but wants Lux to think he’s getting away with hiding things, and that makes it so much easier for the warlock to shed his stress for the span of a class period and listen.

Finding his seat and sliding his books onto the wire shelf underneath, Lux folds his arms onto his desk and leans forward in an attempt to look casual without letting his back press against his seat.

“Good morning, class,” Says Mr. Carter, letting the door close behind him as he walks over to his whiteboard. Lux relaxes at the guy’s posture alone. Mr. Carter just walks, he doesn’t stride, doesn’t take heavy angry steps, doesn’t put on any kind of haughty demeanor that authority figures tend to put on. The guy leans against his desk, popping the lid off a dry-erase marker and seeming to consider the color of it before looking back up at his class.

“So, today, we’re going to be debating, class.”

Lux perks up, eyes watching keenly for everyone’s reactions, and watching the teacher too. Lux loves debating, Mr. Carter knows that. But can he really work up the energy to do it today? Is he in such a rotten mood that he’ll get offended and lash out and be laughed at?

“Everyone will participate. Even if you don’t want to talk in front of the class, I want everyone to write down their arguments and slide them over to their debating team members, alright? And if it doesn’t get too heated, guys, pizza on Friday.”

A rare smile breaks across Lux’s face. Free food, and incentive for the class not to get all loud and angry today? A chance to debate, or to just write down his ideas, no pressure? Mr. Carter is the best.

Mr. Carter glances at him, and Lux’s stomach flutters with the panic that comes with being noticed, only to instantly settle into he knew I’d like this plan, he’s got my back, this is gonna make today so much less sucky.

~

The debate has heated up, and Lux, usually eager to jump in and land a well-executed point, is slinking back in his seat, avoiding eyes. Mr. Carter is watching every point of action, keeping an eye on his students’ volume levels and movements. Here and there, though, he glances at Lux, worried that maybe this debate topic has veered over the line.

“Cops are dying and those no-good killers are just roaming the streets! They’re all a bunch of crackheads you know, they’ve got knives and guns and no permits, they’re all fucking-”

“Language, Mr. Peterson,” Chides Mr. Carter, arms crossed, tense as he considers how to calm down a classroom full of passionate, but misguided, young people. “And remember what I always say about assumptions versus facts? This is less of a debate and more of a witch hunt at this point.”

“Witch hunt! Speaking of, let’s talk facts,” A girl chimes in, and Mr. Carter seems to relax. She’s one of his most clever, quiet students - if she’s joining in, she’s got to have a good, mature point to make. “Witches have been burned at the literal stake, hunted down, and today it’s not poking a girl to see if she bleeds and then drowning her in front of the town. It’s monitoring your search search history, it’s cops dragging people off the street with guns and tasers. How far can we go with murder and oppression in the name of safety before we become the thing we fear?”

Mr. Carter reels from the force of her logic, nodding. “Excellent, Miss-”

“Warlock sympathizer!” Cries the guy that was cut off for making assumptions, pointing at the girl who refuses to back down. “They’re killers, that’s not an assumption that’s a fact, government says so, news say so, my dad’s a cop, he-”

“Then your dad’s the killer,” She shoots back, face flushed. “Witches are getting murdered, can’t find a safe place to live, can’t even get a job, they’re dying out there. There’s no healthcare for women with magic-”

“Women with magic? Like people of color?” Jeers someone from the back of the classroom, and snickers break out.

“-and some of us can’t even afford food for kids, for warlock kids who got kicked out for being who they are, the witches give the kids food and the warlocks don’t because they need the strength to go fight off the cops dragging their friends off to die, and… and…” Her argument fades as her voice falters. The whole classroom is staring at her, dumbstruck.

“Witch,” Someone mutters, and her skin goes grey.

“Incredible,” Cries Mr. Carter, sweeping forward. Lux isn’t breathing, where he sits at the deck farthest from the debating, his instincts screaming at him to run, get to the door, before the grabbing, the accusations, the death. “Excellent. Thank you, Miss Abby. You can sit now.”

She does, legs wobbling, somehow summoning a nervous smile.

“I asked her to drop that point into her argument at some point today, so I could see how you’d all react. That’s the real lesson here, today - Mister Connor, put that phone away, no texting your girlfriend in my class, you know the rules.” Mr. Carter shakes his head as the class snickers at Connor, who opens his mouth, hesitates, then turns off the phone that shows the number for reporting a warlock sighting half-dialed. “Class,” Continues the history teacher - and Lux spots a tremor in the man’s hand as he raises it - “You all just fell victim to the number one pitfall in debating. You panicked at hearing something that’s seen as a taboo in our society, and instantly all logic left the room. You were ready to pick up your pitchforks and jump into your assumptions rather than facts, weren’t you?”

“But, Mr. Carter, we’re supposed to report-”

“Not in my class, you’re not,” Interrupts the teacher, eyes hard with stern disapproval. “Listen. I’m not discussing the broad topic of dangers to society and what role in that magic users play. I’m talking about logic and reason as used in debates in this isolated environment. I’m talking about your instincts in an argument, and how you can avoid losing an argument when it really matters. For example, Miss Abby, as I asked her to, aimed to distract you all. It worked instantly. In a political debate that you’d see on the news, the first mention of warlocks switches the debate from taxes and civil rights and the funding of things like hospitals. Do you see that now? How she could have been arguing something that would establish a policy that your political party is directly opposing, but with one buzzword like witch, she distracted you?” Mr. Carter presses on with a lecture about the strategies used in debating, a long winding talk that bores everyone out of their near-frenzy to attack.

Lux and Abby, meanwhile, take the time to remember how to breathe and keep their eyes on the floor. No one seems to remember that they’re there as everyone tries to find a sneaky way to scroll through apps on their phone or doodle in their notebooks as the teacher rambles and starts to write his talking points on the whiteboard.

Lux wonders, sitting very still to avoid reigniting the pain in his back, if Mr. Carter really knew Abby was going to say that.

[thadelightfulone]

Better When You Are Quiet

Summary: Keyara and her group are studying for their Chemistry final.

Finals Week at CSUF is both a blessing and a curse. The Student Union opens for 24 hours the week before and during finals week. All-night study rooms are wonderful, but Keyara wishes she was at home asleep instead of here. She finds herself with her Basic Chemistry study group sweating it out in a small room in the back of the Student Union. They just moved from chemical compounds to molar mass of those compounds. She enjoys the science, but mixing math and some of these long ass equations is some of that bullshit, getting on her nerves. Nevertheless, she needs this course for her Chemistry minor.  

They have been at it for 2 hours already. Everyone’s schedule only allowed the group to get together after 10 pm three days before their Chem final. You know, because they do not have other finals to finish studying for or papers to complete before the week is out. Keyara drops her pencil since she has finished the final two problems for their current section. She waits for their self-appointed group leader to move on.  

Erik is standing at the whiteboard, ready to solve the next problem so everyone can see it. “Did everyone finish number 15 yet?” He looks around, “I’ll give you a couple more minutes to find the number of Potassium ions.”  

Keyara sat back and waited while the rest of the group finished up. She was happy with the progress she had been making in the class ever since her friends started this study group. She was on the verge of failing after the first two exams and labs, and now she brought her grade up enough to keep up her GPA. The only drawback was the guy standing at the front of the room: Erik Stevens, certified jackass, number one in the class, and fione as all the fucks.  

Tapping her pencil on her notebook, she looks away from the 6 ft chocolate Adonis leaning against the board with a smug smirk on his face. Dimples deep enough to hide the eraser from her pencil, short dreads falling messily around his head. Tonight he happens to be wearing a black hoodie, a long white tee, and grey sweats. She looks back up as he turns back to the board to start working out the problem.  

Keyara slightly jumps when her neighbor and bestie, Stephanie, pokes her in the arm. Steph starts giggling at her and slides a sheet of paper to her. You two need to fuck already. Keyara rolls her eyes before snatching the paper and writing her response. Never gonna happen, so let it go. Stephanie shrugs her shoulders and turns her attention back to the whiteboard.  

Erik finishes writing and turns back around. “Is everyone within five-hundredths of 1.863 ions of Potassium?” Several heads look up at the board and then down at their answers. Those same people look around the group of seven, but no one says anything. “Come on, people. Now is not the time to be quiet. Let me know how I can help.” A hand goes up, “Yeah, Steph.”

“Ummm, Erik. That’s not what I got.” Stephanie puts her head down. She had been having just as much trouble as Keyara when they started meeting up. Keyara snatches her paper to have a look.  

“Girl stop.” Nodding her head, “Steph, I got the same thing as you.” She hits her with her elbow facing her with a smile.  

“So, you’re both wrong?” Erik laughs and shakes his head since he is not surprised. Stephanie and Keyara needed the most help out of the people in their small study group. “Where did I lose you?”

Keyara looks at her work and then back up at the board. She starts laughing, “It ain’t us, but since you asked.” She points at the board, “At the beginning. Your numbers are wrong, Erik.”

He looks down at the sheet in his hand and then turns to what he wrote on the board. “Nah, this looks good to me.” Looking at Keyara, who is rolling her eyes at him and tapping her pencil on the table, Erik grabs the practice exam that they had been using for questions. He rolls the exam up, slamming it down on the table. “Damn!”

“You see it now?” Keyara stands from her seat, walking to the front and takes the marker out of his hand. “You started with 98.3 grams of Potassium Carbonate instead of the 89.3 listed on question 15.” Smiling at him, she pats him on the back before pointing him to the nearest seat. “We are all off by less than two tenths from YOUR answer, but at least your work is correct.”  

Erik scoffs at her and takes the seat. “Man, whatever.”

“Don’t be mad. I said your problem-solving work was correct.” Keyara shrugs and turns to write the next problem on the board. “Maybe Dr. Filowitz will give you partial credit.” Some snorts and soft laughter reverberate throughout the small room. Erik stands up and rushes Keyara. She turns and stands tall right in front of him, waiting for him to say something.

Devin, another quiet but smart classmate on the other side of Stephanie, jumps up and speaks. “Hey! You know what it’s after midnight, and they gotta clean the room anyway. Why don’t we all take a break and come back in an hour?” He steps forward between Erik and Keyara, scooting her along and out of the way. Keyara moves towards Stephanie.

Steph throws her stuff in her bag, “Sounds like a plan. I could use a neck massage right about now.” She grabs Keyara’s stuff as she makes her way to the door, and they walk out of the room. “OH SNAP! They got protein bars and energy drinks. Thank god!” Stephanie’s loud voice booming down the hallway as everyone packs up, making way for the cleaning crew to come.  

Keyara and Stephanie walk into the basement pub lined with tables full of different grab & go snacks, juices, water, energy drinks, and school supplies. They pulled a few items and then took the elevator upstairs to the first floor near the Alumni fireplace where the volunteer masseuses set up the massage chairs. They wrote their names down and waited nearby against the opposite wall until their turn.  

“So, when are you gonna stop playing?” Keyara, who just bit into her apple eyes Steph over her glasses as she casually stirs the straw in her energy drink. Shaking her head, Keyara looks to the left, avoiding Stephanie’s stare. “Oh, come on. It is so obvious, it’s disgusting.”  

Finishing her bite, “Steph, I am not doing this with you. It is too late, and I am trying to relax.” She leans her head back against the wall. “Leave it alone, please.”  

“Key, if not him, then please from somewhere because I am sick of you.” Keyara can hear Steph’s nails tapping on her can.  

“We all can’t have D lined up waiting for us to call for delivery like some folks.” She pushes up her glasses as Stephanie gasps in faux outrage. “Nah, bitch. Don’t even. I just want to pass this class, and then I don’t have to deal with him anymore.”  

“Right, because the engineering major will not have any more science and math classes before he completes his degree.” Steph bumps her shoulder. “Until you finish your minor, you are stuck with him,” she snorts at Keyara’s pouting face.

“Don’t put that on me.” Just then, Keyara hears her name called from the far end of the chairs. “Gotta go. Bye.” Stephanie watches her go, smiling and slurping on her drink.  

---  

“Why do you let that girl get to you?” Erik and Devin are the last to leave the study room as the cleaning crew enters with their supplies.  

“Let who? Do what? Nah.” Shaking his head, “Do you know who I am?” Erik throws his backpack over his shoulder, holding onto his jacket. “I am not worried about lil Miss Keyara.”

“Right, ok. That’s why you almost did what to her a few minutes ago?” Devin grabs his messenger bag and walks out.

“Yo, that girl makes a nigga wanna throttle her. All that mouth. Why can’t she be like her homegirl?” Erik catches up to him in the hallway.

Devin stops and looks at Erik, “You want Keyara to act like Stephanie? Oh, now I know you buggin’.”

“Not all the way like her, because you know how Steph gets down, and Miss Thang is too uptight for all of that. But like Steph knows what to say and when to say it.”

“Steph caters to the male ego. Key is not about to do all that, and you know it.”  

“Yeah, well, a nigga can dream.” Devin laughs and nods as they make their way to the Midnight Snack area in the basement. “Man, I wish it was PB & J night. I hate energy drinks.”  

Devin stops as they approach the table, “Damn, there she go.” Erik runs into his outstretched arm and follows his line of sight. “Brittany looking right.” Watching the girl in question, bend over in her baby blue sweatsuit, “Juicy, oh yes. Yes, she is.” Erik laughs and grabs some fruit and juice from the table.

“Let’s go out to the patio. I’m not tryna stay in here.”

They find an empty table outside and sit down. Erik leans back in his chair, briefly closing his eyes as he hears the music pumping through the outdoor speakers. He cracks open his apple juice when Devin waves over some of their people. They all start chatting about how their finals are going, how many they have left, and their Winter Break plans.  

He looks up to the Alumni lounge, where he can see the massage chairs and decides to get one. He daps up the guys and runs up the stairs outside the building to get to the first floor. Erik makes it upstairs to see Steph standing by herself against a wall. “Where do you sign in?” She points to a table, and he runs over to add his name to the list before heading over to Stephanie. “So, where’s your girl?” She looks behind him, and he looks up to see Keyara sitting down for her massage. He smiles, throws up a peace sign, and walks over.  

Erik makes his way to Keyara’s chair, and sees Brisa, a Kinesiology major, and friend, moving behind her to adjust the settings on the chair to make her more comfortable. Keyara has leaned forward with her head in the chinrest, ready for her massage to begin. He taps Brisa, whispering, “Aye, let me handle this massage for you. Go take a break.”  

“Erik, you know I can’t do that. She already knows I am doing her massage.” He smiles at her, pleading with his eyes. She huffs at him, “Fine. Are you getting a massage?” He looks at Keyara, who sits up and is getting ready to turn around. He holds her shoulder in place to keep her from moving. Erik nods in the affirmative to Brisa, “Then I got you, and only me.”  

“Done.” He moves up behind Keyara as Brisa walks behind him.  

“15 minutes, E. Not a minute longer.” She taps him and leaves. 

Erik moves his hands up to the sides of Keyara’s neck, rubbing slow circles from under her ears to the top of her shoulders. She leans forward and relaxes all her weight into the chair.  

Keyara closes her eyes and allows her body to relax as the hands squeeze and roll the tense muscles in her neck, shoulders, and upper back. She softly moans but doesn’t say anything at all. She starts drifting off when the hands move lower down her back.  

“So, is this what a nigga gotta do to keep you quiet?” Erik whispers in her ear. Keyara tries to turn around, but Erik runs his hands along her spine, rolling from the inside out towards her waist. It felt wonderful, but she still stiffens under his touch pulling her arms up. “Relax. I’m just trying to release the tension. You are carrying a lot of shit in your shoulders and back, you know.” He presses harder, and Keyara moans again.

Keyara mumbles, “Just shut up, Erik,” she drops her arms back to the sides of the massage chair, “Enjoy it while you can, it’ll be the only time you touch me.” Erik chuckles and finishes her massage.  

---

Thirty minutes later, everyone in the group has made it back to the now freshly cleaned study room. Devin looks around, and even though everyone seems much more relaxed than before, they took the break; he can already tell going on will be a waste of time for them.  

“Yo, it’s almost 2 am. Let’s call it a night for Chem. I know a few of us have a final or two in the morning and want to get some more study time or sleep before it.” Everyone agrees, and some even yawn, “Yep, see ya Thursday.”

They all clear out of the room, going their separate ways. Erik and Devin catch up with the guys they were talking to earlier. He can study for his next final with a few of them. Steph and Keyara part ways since Stephanie’s last final exam is the Chem one. She has papers for the rest, so she’s headed home. Keyara walks towards the front of the Student Union. She has an 8 am final and decides to stay on campus instead of fighting traffic, trying to return to campus in about 3 hours.  

Keyara heads upstairs to the Quiet Study Lounge and finds a couch in the corner. She curls up on one side and opens her book to study. About an hour later, her book has fallen off her lap, and she is sleeping curled into the back of the couch.  

Erik finished studying with his homies and decides to find a quiet space to chill until his 9 am final. He walks into the Quiet Study Lounge and finds Keyara asleep in the back on the two-seater. He takes the seat next to her, picks up her book, and sets it on the table. Watching her quietly for a few minutes, he notices her slightly shivering. He grabs his jacket and lays it over her, making sure she is covered then straightens her legs out pulling them over his own. He puts in his earbuds, leans back and closes his eyes.  

---

Keyara’s alarm goes off at 7, and she sits up suddenly, sensing a heavy weight on her chest and legs. She feels the jacket fall to her lap, and as she picks it up to look it over, placing her phone on the table, she notices arms draped across her legs, which are laying on the owner’s lap. Keyara softly inhales when she looks at the culprit, Erik freaking Stevens. She takes in his relaxed sleeping posture - head back, arms across her legs and his own stretched out, crossed at the ankle under the table in front of the couch.  

The alarm on her phone goes off again, vibrating against the table, causing Erik to stir. He looks up at her as she turns it off. “Good morning Sunshine.” He smiles at her, deep dimples showing and golds gleaming.  

Keyara sighs, “Moment ruined.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not the only one who is better when quiet.” She stands up, gathering her backpack, throwing Erik’s jacket at him. Keyara looks at him as he stares back in shock. “Shut up and come on.”

“Come where? I don’t even get a thank you for giving you my jacket while I was shivering in my sleep?”

“My thank you was gonna be a breakfast burrito before my final, but if you don’t want it. I’ll just head to class now.” Keyara walks to the door, Erik hot on her trail. 

He catches up to her, throwing his arm over her shoulder. “That’s all you had to say, babygirl.”

“Nah uh,” she pushes his arm off her, “you have done enough touching on me for the day.”  

Drawing Keyara back into him and wrapping his arms around her waist, Erik erupts into a full-body laugh that sends chills through her.

“I’m tryna have my hands all over you again.” He nuzzles her neck as she leans back into him.  

She groans and smacks at his hands trying to get out of his grasp. “My final is over at 10.”  

“I’ll be at your place by 12,” he nips her ear and lets her go. “Now, for this burrito, you promised a nigga.”  

She pops in the arm, pouting, “I swear I hate you.”  

He walks backward in front of her, “You hate to want me; there is a huge difference.” His sly smile matches her bashful one as they head to the Carl’s Jr. across campus.

[erintoknow]

it feels like a lie

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

Three lives to juggle means three times as many more lies and conflicting agendas. How is anyone supposed to balance all of this? [Please Just Go]

[Read on AO3]

Alarms blare inside your helmet. Shit. They realized you're here.

Rosie is on the other side of the city; you had her create a distraction coating Memorial Park in smoke to try and lure The Rangers away. After the bridge fiasco last week you could use a break, sick as you are of fighting Argent.

That doesn’t do anything for the local rent-a-cops.

With a practiced haste you fold up the sheaf of papers and tuck them into a black storage bag attached to your suit belt. You’ll have to go over the rest in detail when you’re back at your best.

For now, you better cover your tracks.

The Nanovores make quick work of the rest of the filing cabinet before you turn yourself to the rest of the record room. Pulling out paper sat random, ripping shelves off their hinges and toppling over entire metal units. Damage done, you put a hand to one wall and weaken the joists.

Squaring your shoulder you back up, bracing yourself. When you charge forward, the drywall collapses into splinters and dust. Cries of alarm echo out in the hallway and someone fires a gun.

Ugh.

Idiots.

You turn towards the source and the man in the dark blue uniform takes a step back. You grab his mind, pulling him into a daymare just long enough to close the distance and knee him in the gut. Catch the gun before it hits the ground and it dissolves into dust in your left hand. “Someone could get hurt.”

You let the man drop and he just lays there, staring at you.

As tempting as it is to keep basking in the adrenaline rush, you should get out of here before Argent shows up.

Besides, Ariadne and Jane both have appointments of their own to attend to today.

To the same woman.

–––

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you adjust your sunglasses, press them up your nose and flush against your face. You’re just… going in to check on Ortega. That’s all. Nothing weird about that.

Just your friend.

Ortega.

Who is your friend.

That you’re checking on.

You step up to the door, hesitate – hand on the handle shaking. You let it go. Shit. Shit. Fucking – You turn back to the door and throw it open, storming in. The secretary at the desk looks up at you in alarm, one arm poised under her desk. “Hello! Can I… help you?”

“Ortega.” You state. Wait. Shit. Context. She needs context. “I’m here to see Ortega.”

The woman frowns at that, eyeing you up and down. “Can I ask who’s calling for her?”

You echo her frown back, cross your arms under your shawl. “I… guess?”

The two of you stand there in silence.

Oh.

Wait, shit – “Ariadne.” You offer. “Ariadne Becker.”

Her face perks up, suspicion easing slightly. “Oh! Your Ortega’s friend. I remember you now.”

You frown at that. She does? You’ve only been here, what? Twice? “I’m… sorry?”

She laughs, which only makes you frown more. “Ortega mentioned you were coming by today.” She did? “You can take a seat, I’ll let her know you're here.”

It’s not a long wait. Have to bite your lip to keep from smiling at Ortega walking out of the elevator. Raise a hand to catch her eyes. “Hey.”

She takes sight of you and smiles. “Hey yourself.” God. Just seeing her here is a relief. This building isn’t anything like the HQ your used to. Too clean and too sterile. Professional. Like the Farm.

“I – I made it. Hope you're happy.”

“You bet.” She grins, smug. No one would ever accuse Julia Ortega of being a graceful winner. “Com’on,” she beckons you after her. “Let’s head to my, uh...” She flashes a grin back at you, “special office.”

You tilt your head as you follow her back into the elevator. Tuck your sunglasses into your purse. Are you supposed to laugh at that or…? “Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” She punches a number into the keypad. “I’m too tired to get into trouble today.” She raises her other hand, shakes the coffee thermos she’s holding for emphasis.

Small talk with Ortega is an old routine. As comfortable, as it is dangerous: to forget for a moment this woman is actively working towards your destruction. That her smile is directed at an empty facade.

Well.

At least Jane gets to kiss her.

Oh –

Why did you have to think that just now?

You follow after her out of the elevator, a short walk past offices and meeting rooms and into what looks like an unfinished closet, ceiling joists exposed naked to the air. An obviously outdated computer, weighs down the desk at one end of the room while a white board with empty red circles spans another wall. But what really gets your attention is the set of out of place and utterly garish cheetah-print chairs. “What the…?”

“Donations.” Ortega shrugs, as if that explains anything. She pulls a seat over for you. Comfy enough, you guess.  “Sorry Ari, I can’t chat too long,” Ortega slides into the seat across from you, a coffee in one hand. “I’ve got to meet someone for work later.”

You frown at that. “Oh. Um… sorry?” Isn’t she meeting Jane? Going somewhere else first?

Ortega blinks, taken aback. “It’s… not your fault?”

“That’s my line.” You force a laugh, trying not to look as awkward as you feel. One hand pokes out from under your shawl to fiddle with your sunglasses. “I just… thanks for meeting me on short notice like this. I… know this, um, new villain has you running ragged.”

“It’s fine.” Ortega waves your concern off. “You know… you’re always welcome to stop by when I’m at HQ.” She makes a face, sitting back in her seat. “Which is… all the time now since, well…”

“Chen still won’t let you back on active duty?” How long has it been now? Two months since she got out of the hospital? Time is starting to blur. Getting harder to track.

“He’s afraid I’m going to do something stupid.”

“Hrm. Y–yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you.”

“Shut up!” She laughs, punching you in the shoulder. You make a show of almost falling over, as if you’d been hit far harder.

“You poor thing.” You tsk, a faint smile fighting to form. If Ortega’s staying on a desk, she’s safe. Safe from someone that could hurt her again.

Safe from you.

You glance at the doorway. “You must be bored out of your mind, stuck here.”

Her smile gains an edge, “Don’t worry. I’m keeping plenty busy.”

You frown, searching her eyes. “I know that look Ortega. That’s a – a face that means trouble for somebody.”

Her smile only broadens. “Only the ones that deserve it.”

You eye the whiteboard. All the conspicuously empty circles. “And how’s that going?” That’s the real question, isn’t it? How aggressive can you get with your tactics before the Rangers buckle down?

Assuming they don’t collapse like a house of cards first.

Ortega shrugs, noncommittal. “I’m working on it. I’ve got a…” Her eyes flit away from you for a second before returning with a smile. “A multi-pronged approach, let’s call it. Keeping me busy at least.”

“Just… d–don’t get yourself put in a hospital again. Okay?” You try to catch her eye. You don’t have to fake this. This sincerity. The ache in your chest. “Please?”

She smiles back at you, soft, maybe a touch sad. You can never be sure with these kinds of things. “I’m taking this dead serious Ariadne. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Mm.” You frown. If anything her assurance just makes you more concerned she’s going to do something stupid. “Is that why you’re plotting in Harry Potter’s broom closet?”

Ortega gasps in mock shock, a hand to her chest before collapsing into laughter. “Ariadne! I’ll have you know this is the most secure broom closet in Los Diablos!”

You laugh, “Nothing’s secure in this city.” You should know. It’s been hell isolating your workshop off the network.

Ortega clicks her tongue and taps the side of her nose. “Not so hasty now. Maybe that's the Mayor’s line but you shouldn’t believe everything she says.”

“Ortega!” You laugh, “did you just tell me not to trust the government?”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly.”

“Uh-huh. And since when did you become a technology wizard?”

“That used to be your job.”

You fake a laugh. “Hey, if anything, it’s, uh– well, it’s more my job now than it ever was.”

“Well, I had some help.” She glances away, “Angie has a bit of a way with technology.” There’s a pause followed by a wince, “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Why?”

Ortega takes a drink from her coffee, dragging it out. “Because she’ll kill both of us.”

“I’d, um – I’d just as soon steer clear of her.” You answer, waving the concern away. “She s–s–scares the hell out of me. She’s like a… like a… woman-shaped shredding machine.”

“Angie’s really sweet! She just takes some effort to get to know.” A meaningful glance is shot your way. “Not unlike a certain asshole in this room.”

You smile back at her. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Ouch! You’re vicious today.”

“S–sorry. I…” You go silent. Not sure how to finish that sentence. What else you can possibly say…? “Hey, um…”

“Yeah?”

“You said I could pick somewhere we volunteer at… that isn’t a hospital, right?” You watch her from the corner of your eye, not quite facing her.

“Uh, hey, yeah! You had somewhere in mind?”

“Y–yeah. There’s uh… there’s this soup kitchen. Up in… Pasadena. They’re… small so we should, uh, call ahead.” Got some memories of that place. Hadn’t expected them to still be around, over seven years later.

“Pasadena?” Ortega purses her lips, thinking. “That’s around one of your old haunts, isn’t it?”

You nod. No point trying to play it off “Y–yeah.”

“Okay. You make the arrangements, let me know a date. I’ll try to make sure my schedule is clear.”

“That’s… thanks.”

Ortega takes a sip of her coffee, “So. Was that all you wanted to ask me about?”

“Not exactly… um.” How do you put this? You shift in your seat. “I’ve been, uh – seeing the news stories lately… What’s this about Argent working with vigilantes? Did you know?”

“I…” Ortega looks away, back down at her coffee. “Yeah. I mean. It’d be kind of hypocritical of me to disapprove, don’t you think?”

“Someone’s going to get hurt.” You sigh, “I mean… I understand what you mean but…”

“We made a good team.”

“...yeah.” You sigh, hold yourself up with a hand to your forehead. “But Lady Argent doesn’t seem to be a – well…”

“A team player. I know.” Ortega glances up at you, a quirk of suspicion on her lips. “But you’re retired now, Ariadne. You told me yourself, this isn’t your world any more.”

You sit back, stare out the window at the passing traffic. “I… I know. But – having…. Having you around again. It’s… hard not to care. I… want to let it go. But when it seems like the Rangers are falling apart and I’m just…”

Responsible.

“Now that sounds like the Ariadne I know.” Ortega’s voice is sad, sad enough to get you to look at her again. “You never could just sit on the sidelines. Even when it was for your own good.”

You make a face. “Well, neither could you.”

“Guilty as Charged.”

“Oh f–fuck you.” You laugh, slapping her hand away. “I can’t believe you never – never made that pun before.”

Ortega’s smug grin doesn’t leave her face. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed your helping Herald now.” She leans over to you, still grinning. “Anything I should know about?”

You lean away from her, eyes wide. “W–what!? I’m just– we’re just–”

Ortega bursts out laughing. “Relax! I’m only teasing you.” She looks up, sees the expression on your face and starts laughing again.

“Asshole.” You hiss at her, face red. “He’s just a dumb kid who doesn’t know the first thing about how to hold himself in a fight.”

“I think that fight with Ghost finally shocked him out of his comfort zone.”

“Or maybe,” You give Ortega a pointed look. “You all just weren’t training him right.”

“You were his childhood hero, you know that right?” Ortega’s smile fades. “He looks up to you.”

God. There’s a terrifying thought.

“Give it time.” You huff. “I’ll fix that too.”

–––

“There she is!” Jane flings her arms into the air, “I missed my practice buddy.”

Ortega laughs, catching Jane in the coffee shop door. “Just your ‘buddy’ huh?”

“Hmph!” Jane pouts, “You know what I mean.”

“Madre de Dios, I’m so glad to finally be out of that hospital.” Ortega smiles with her whole face, pulling Jane in for a hug. For a moment it feels like they might kiss. And then they disentangle.

Jane mirrors the smile back with a touch of puzzlement. “Did they really only just let you out?” Jane and Ortega haven’t had a chance to meet up since Ghost crashed the Gala over a month ago now. Two months? It’s getting hard for you to keep track of time. But you know she’s been out for a while now.

What’s going on?

Ortega’s smile freezes on her face as she rubs the back of her neck. “Well… I’ve been busy too. Work.” She flaps an arm in the general direction of Ranger’s HQ “Sorry. I should have at least called.”

“It’s okay…” Jane’s smile takes a bitter edge. A knot twisting in her gut. “Our date didn’t exactly… go well, did it?” Maybe that’s it. She’s just trying to spare Jane’s feelings.

“Hell, Jane, I am so sorry. And then you got… hurt because of me and…” Oh. That’s why she’s been avoiding Jane. Guilt. That makes sense. You understand guilt.

“Stop it.” Jane presses a finger to Ortega’s lips. “It’s not your fault. It’s…”

Ortega takes her hand, gently lowering. “Ghost’s.”

Jane laughs, disdainful. Weaves her fingers between Ortega’s as they move to walk down the street together. “Is that really the name now?”

“Yeah.”

“How dumb. What is this guy, emo?” Jane glances back towards Ortega. Was that a frown on her face? It’s gone. She’s smiling again. Jane smiles back.

“It is pretty dumb isn’t it?” Ortega laughs along. “I’ve heard worse ones before though.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Emperor President is still my top pick.”

Jane laughs, “That’s not dumb, that’s fucking amazing.”

“Maybe it wraps back around to that.”

“Well, maybe it does.” Still laughing, Jane twists around so she’s standing in front of Ortega. Bringing the both of them to a stop. “So. I think you owe me something.” There’s a glint in her eye. This is – this is forward. Too forward? No, it’s Ortega. Relax.

Ortega’s face is a careful blank. “Do I now?”

“Another date? I…” Jane breaks eye contact, biting her lip. “I mean. If you want to. Of course.”

Ortega squeezes her hand. “Of course.” Her smile turns sheepish as she looks away too. “Honestly, I… was worried I had, well, scared you off after everything.” It’s like a weight is lifted from Jane’s shoulders. The sun is brighter, the sky bluer.

“Hey!” Jane pats her on the face, redirects her to meet Jane’s eyes again. “It’s going to take a lot more than bombs and a mentally disturbed wacko to scare me away.” She tilts her head, laughing with her eyes. “that’s practically my day job already with all the debt BS.”

“Alright…” Ortega’s smile broadens, more confident. “Alright, great!”

Jane steps forward in Ortega’s space, “And I’ve got just the idea of where we can go…”

[helloemptyset]

description and part of story under cut

31 Day Horror House : Days 24 + 25 : a young child monster (or several) + a nanny or on-site schoolteacher 

Again, starting from the lobby, you choose a destination on the map, this time a stairway. The map doesn't say if the staircase goes up or down, but you guess it doesn't matter, as long as you can figure out whether it correlates to the other scraps of map you have.

The halls seem less 'stressed' this go around, or maybe you didn't have to walk as long, since the staircase seems to have been under your nose the entire time. It went up, and as you walk up a flight, a bell rings loud enough to shake your teeth. It rings again as you reach the top, then again as you make it into the main hallway, causing you to fall to the now tiled floor.

From your vantage point of the floor, the tiles seem have a sweeter, happier feeling than the tiled hall of the first floor, the white speckled with orange and green in the same speckled shape as fish flakes. The walls have wallpaper now: What you read as the twilight zone of the oceanic zone scale, filled with fish you semi-recognize and some completely alien. Standing was proving to be difficult, the bell having knocked your sense of balance out of sorts, and you manage to drag yourself a little further across the smooth tile with your hands.

You don't make it far before you hear strange slappy sounds in front of you, but you aren't able to turn your head enough to see it. Taking a moment to stop, you pick yourself up onto your knees, quickly falling flat on your butt as you stare right ahead. Two doors, both open and streaming happy yellow light, are in the hallway in front of you, and in the very middle of the hall is a small, child-like... thing.

It looks like someone stuck a remora fish and a stingray together into something soft and baby-shaped. It wobbles on its little feet, head swaying gently on its rolled neck, and flaps its little arm-fins in the air for a moment before softly humming, the noise sounding as if pushed from its chest.

Before you can say something, it walks off into one of the open doors, and another sticks its face out of the other door. You wave, and it waves back, releasing a wet gurgle from its flat, wrinkly face.

There's something disheartening about running into children in a place like this, and as you're thinking about it, someone else much, much bigger walks into view.

"Oh, you found someone..." The voice, emerging more as a hum you think you can translate, sounds surprised in a calm, proud way, and as you look up, you see someone that seemed to just be an adult of whatever species of remora-ray-baby you've run into. Taller, wearing clothes, and with an unnerving design of a face on the underside of her... chin?

"Good afternoon, visitor. Welcome to our class." She says as she approaches, reaching out a flipper-arm to you. You grab it as gently as you can, surprised at how rough her skin feels as she pulls you up. "I see you're a little height-sick."

The two children wander around your feet as you wobble, holding onto the teacher until you feel you can stand properly. She pats your arm with her other flipper, and one of the babies slaps your leg to copy her, making the other go and slap that baby. They end up rolling on the ground, slapping at each other's bellies until the teacher walks between them.

"Now, children, back to class." She shuffles them into a classroom, and beckons you to follow. The room is bright and covered in ocean-based educational materials of all sorts, from posters to toys to little rugs showing the bottom of an ocean floor. There are only two desks, but the floor is soft and clean enough that you sit down beside the two babies.

As you look around, you notice something disturbing. While three of the walls are normal, with bright, happy posters and a large, very used whiteboard, the one at the very back of the room looked like some sort of sea creature's skin. It twitched on occassion, and you watch it squirm and move as if trapped. You couldn't be sure what sort of sea animal it belonged to, but you assumed a whale, as it took up the entire wall of the average sized classroom. It looked pocked with large markings.

"We don't have a lot here, but it is nice isn't it?" The teacher says, walking around the classroom. Her fin slides along a wall. "My school - Small as it is... It's the world to me. I just feel I can't teach much besides my knowledge of the ocean."

The babies make hissing sounds, turning in their stools to watch the teacher.

"My children are so young, so this is fine as a beginning... but they'll grow, and they'll need more to learn." She laughs sadly, something like a growl, "I just wish I had more resources."

You think for a moment, pulling out the map. The library is a little ways from there... But you show her, startled when she pulls the map out of your hands.

"Where in the world did you get this? This is amazing." She takes it to her desk, laying it flat atop her mass of stapled papers. "I've never explored in fear my children would get hurt in the wandering... But this would change everything."

You offer to copy it for her, and she shakes her head, rolling it up with the help of her desk.

"I have a copy machine! I'll give it right back. Just watch the children for me." And without letting you agree or anything, she walks off, leaving you with the babies.

They take to slapping you reassuringly like their teacher... mother? Did, though hard enough to sting. You sorta just lay there and let them, wiggling to provide a moving target.

After many slaps, they give up, laying on the ground next to you. There's something serene about the feeling of laying on the classroom ground, the heavy sound of a distant, slow heartbeat filling the air.

You don't realize you'd fallen asleep until a paper falls on your face, unable to sit up because the babies had moved to lay on your torso, splayed out and gurgling.

"Good job getting them to rest, visitor. I've copied the map for our use." She kneels, petting her children. "Thank you for widening our horizons. I don't think I could ever thank you enough for this."

The babies chirp and gurgle as she pushes them off, rolling along the soft ground, and she helps you up yet again.

She starts class up again once the children are awake enough to pay attention, and as she teaches, you smile and give her a wave as you leave. You check your map, seeing she's added where her classroom is, and make your way back to the stairs.

You feel more... you, than you have in ages.

-

[ image 1: two small creatures that look like vaguely humanoid mixtures of sea rays and some sort of odd sucker-fish. their faces are flat, with a bright pink color around their wrinkled 'mouths', which just look like raisined-up skin. their legs are fat and end in tiny feet, and they have a short fat tail behind them. their arms are flat and line the side of their bodies like the fins of a ray, and they have three gills on either side. the skin around their 'neck' is squished up, forming a soft roll. they're a dark grey-blue with blue polka dots on their back, and blue linings on the tips of their toes and tail. their belly is grey,  the coloration stretching to circle their mouth. one stands up, fins held out, and one sits on the ground, head slightly turned to the viewer.

image 2: an adult version of the vaguely humanoid mix of sea ray and sucker-fish. her sucker-face looks straight up, no longer flat but protruding a little ways from her head. her underbelly markings have formed the vaguest of humanoid faces, two wide circles for eyes and a large, slightly upturned oval, forming something that looks at least a bit like smiling. she is wearing a collared, open tunic that is shorter in the front than the back, a seam in the front for velcroing closed. it is different shades of aqua-green, with little light brown stars on the fabric inside the border. she's also wearing a small string of pearls. her pants are deep grey, and come down at different lengths. she says, 'My school - small as it is...' in a very, very light green square speech bubble. ]

[boxed-n-bottled-arson]

Yandere Virgil chapter 4 (Finale)

Ay, finale chapter finally got out (after a lot of procrastinating) hope you guys enjoy! 

Summary: Virgil attempts to kill the mysterious Damion aka Deceit, though the task ends up being a lot more difficult than expected.

Warnings: Plotting murder, blood (very brief), blades, one-sided love, injury mentioned, torture mentioned, vague reference to dead/left parent, mentions of Remus 

Ships: One-sided Moxiety

     Virgil had a job to do, but the time he had to do that job trickled through his fingers. And now he found himself on Wednesday afternoon of the last week he had. He was scared and planless and had two and a half days to murder Damion, before...he wasn’t really sure, but if last time taught him anything he didn’t want to find out. 

    Damion was hard to track down and even harder to find alone. Out of his whole three weeks, Virgil had only seen Damion twice, and both times Damion was surrounded by goons of his, leaving Virgil no room to ‘work’.

     “Virge? Hey, Virge you there?” Patton’s voice questioned from the other side of the phone. Virgil sprang back to reality, almost falling off his bed. “Oh, sorry Pat...just...thinking,” Virgil said, hoping Patton couldn’t hear the quiver in his voice. Virgil and Patton had grown closer and closer over the past few weeks, and Patton had slowly started to calm down a bit from what had been happening (though he was still very protective over Virgil). “What were you thinking about?” Patton asked, “Just...an upcoming deadline I don’t know if I’m gonna make.” Virgil said, hoping that he had convinced Patton. “Ok, just don’t worry too much, ok?” “Ok, Pat” If only you knew Pat Virgil thought to himself if only you knew.

     Virgil walked to class on Thursday morning, with his hood up and anxiety pulsing through his veins. He had two days to find Damion. He walked into his math class, and despite being one of the first ones there, he took his seat he always did in the back of the class. Unable to contain his anxiety, he got out his binder to grab a piece of paper to doodle on. While rummaging through his bag Virgil found something that ‘inspired’ a way to remove Damion. Scissors. 

     Pulling them out of his bag, Virgil ran his finger along one of the blades. Slowly, a single drop of red blood seeped out of his finger and ran down his hand. ‘These’ Virgil thought, ‘will work perfectly’.

Virgil knew that he couldn’t walk up to Damion and simply stab him, heck he wasn’t able to walk up to Damion without getting shoved or punched by one of their goons. No, Virgil was going to have to be creative.

Like most of the days through the weeks though, Virgil couldn’t find Damien anywhere. He wasn’t at lunch, in any of his classes, or even waiting outside the school with his group of goons. Wait, why would Damien’s group of minions all be waiting outside the school if Damien wasn’t there? Virgil slowly began walking towards them till he heard a shout from behind him, “Virgil!” Turning as fast as he could on his heel, Virgil turned to see Patton running towards him. All Virgil’s curiosity of what Damiens group was thrown out of the window as soon as he saw Patton. Being with Patton removed all his worries of what was going to happen, all his anxieties of everything that was happening were removed as soon as he saw Patton. Patton seemed to almost fix everything. Like a ray of sun in Virgil’s typically black world.

Patton soon made his way over to were Virgil was, half out of breath. “Wa..wa” Patton started saying through sharp breathes, “what are you doing walking towards Deceit’s group?” Patton asked curiously. Virgil turned around to look at said group, “I was just wondering what they’re up to” Virgil said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Luckily, Patton seemed to buy it, “I’m not sure, maybe preparing for there case on Friday.” Patton said, now also looking at the group of delinquents. “Case?” Virgil asked. “Ya their case. Deceit and some of his group are getting questioned about the…” Patton paused for a moment “murders…”. “Oh...that case,” Virgil said, grabbing Patton’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. Patton looked up at Virgil and gave him a small smile before looking down again, “let’s go home,” “ya that’s a good idea”.   

When Virgil arrived home he ran right up to his room, sat down his bag, took a seat at his desk, and began plotting his removal plan of Damion.

      School the next day was semi-useless to his plan to remove Damion. Knowing that the only placed he’d see Damien is after school (well at least Damien was here today). About halfway through his last class, Virgil’s anxiety started rising. All his thoughts were jumbled with potential flaws in his plan and all the ways it could go south, but Virgil didn’t have any time or resources to revise it and make a new one. Soon though all the time in his last class ran up, and Virgil shakily grabbed his books and bag, making his down the hallway. ‘What if I ask Rem for more time? Or a new target? Maybe if I run Rem won’t find me. What if I just told an actual hitman to kill Damien?” Virgil’s anxious thought rang through his head, trying to find a way out of his current situation, but seemed to always end up in the same conclusion. There is nothing he can do, he has to kill Damien or...or...Rem would do something. What exactly? He didn’t know.

    He made his way down the main hallway with the rest of the students. At the end of the hallway, he found himself at the first step of his plan. Turn down the fine arts hallway. Virgil’s thought argued in his head. Should he do it? Walk down the hallway, take another life and hope this hell is over? Or should he run? Before his mind could explode from his debating thoughts, his legs made their decision and carried him down the fine arts hallway.

As expected the hallway was empty, not even the teachers were in their classrooms, but that didn’t mean they’d be gone forever, so Virgil quickly made his way into the orchestra room. The room looked semi-abandoned, all the stands and instruments in there proper places, music was on the front bench, and the whiteboard was clean with nothing by the date in the top left corner. The room was so clean it almost looked if no had been there, but from what Virgil heard this was in character for the orchestra teacher. 

       Glancing around the room he saw the door he looking for, in the back of the room near the practice rooms. Walking to the door, he made sure not to move anything to make sure no one knew he was there. When he got the door he opened it and felt the warm sunlight hit his face. Looking around he found himself at the side of the school, no one was around at all, and he seemed to be a good ways away from the front of the school, so Virgil started running towards the front.

When Virgil got there he found himself half out of breath and his ankle was hurting, ‘great’ he thought to himself, ‘this is gonna make murder so much easier’. The next part of his plan was the part he wasn’t completely sure how to do (well, let’s be honest he’s winging half of this). He needed to make his way to the roof. The school was luckily only one story, and semi-short compared to other schools he’d seen, so this task wouldn’t be impossible, just difficult. There was no ladder, window frame, or ivy to grab onto (though he may not have even used the last one it was offered to him). The school did have gutters though, meaning he’d be able to grab ahold of those if could just reach them. An idea popped in Virgil’s head, and as the only idea he currently had, Virgil acted on it. Backing up away from the school, he took a deep breath before sprinting towards the school as fast as he could. Right before hitting the wall of the building, Virgil jumped. His left hand missed the gutters, and right as he expected to fall his right hand grasped the cool metal of the rain gutters. Right hand gripping the rain gutters like a life-line, Virgil stared down at the ground below him. 'To close,' Virgil thought, 'way to close'. Grabbing the gutters with both hands, Virgil pulled himself onto the school roof. The roof was red, with stripes of raised areas that kept Virgil from sliding off. Virgil slowly moved from one side of the roof to the other, overlooking the front of the school. From here, Virgil could see the usual organized chaos, the large cluster of people sat in the middle, a few kids were tearing off to walk home or get in cars, and a few cliche clicks were talking away from the main group of people. One of these groups being Damion’s group of delinquents, and standing in the middle of the group was none other than Damion himself. The group was stood farthest away from the main cluster of kids, talking just loud enough for only people in their group to hear them. Virgil smirked when he saw the faraway group, and quickly moved across the roof till he was right above them. 

     This close to the group, Virgil could vaguely hear their conversation (which was mainly things he didn't understand but he could assume they were about the case). Virgil spotted Damion in the middle of the group, with most of the others listening to him talking, to Virgil this seemed like the best opening he was gonna get. Removing the sharpened scissors from his hoodie pocket, Virgil waited for a good opening to throw. 

     He waited a few anxious seconds before he took action. Damion was positioned talking to someone the farthest away from Virgil, meaning if he aimed this correctly he could hit Damion square in the back, hitting vital organs. That's what Virgil expected, but of course the unexpected always seems to come true.

     The scissors flew through the air, aimed to hit exactly where he needed, but just before they hit Damion a hand stopped them. Damion's hand stopped them.

     Damion turned around to face Virgil, eyes glued to the one who just tried to murder him. "I see what you tried to do there," Damion said, voice sickly sweet. "I know what you've been doing, Virgil. I even know why you've taken all those lives, worst of all though," Damien walked closer, looking up at Virgil. "I know who you work with." Virgil gulped back his fear. "And let me tell you, my dear Virgil, you don't want to know what's gonna happen to you. So all I'll say is goodbye, it was fun while it lasted wasn't it?" Right after Damion finished his statement, him and his crew walked into the school building, most likely for their integration, and Virgil was left in a cold sweat. He failed. He lost. He lied to Rem. Virgil was screwed.

     Virgil was now sat on his bed, anxiously biting his nails. 'What is Rem gonna do to me?' Virgil questioned. 'Kill me? Question me? Torture me? What is he gonna-' Virgil's thoughts were cut off by a notification sounds going off. Checking his phone, Virgil saw it, a single message from Rem.

"You failed"

Virgil quickly typed his response,

"I'm sorry, please give me just one more day please"

Virgil waited and waited, but didn't get a response. No, punishment, no questions, nothing. Till 10:47 p.m, 47 minutes from the first message from Rem. This wasn't a message from Rem though, it was one from Patton. 

     Virgil opened the message from Patton, but before he could look at it he got a call from Pat. He answered it.

"Hey Pat, what's up?"

"Please tell me it isn't true," Patton was speaking as if he'd been crying.

"What are you talking about Pat?"

"The pictures Virge. Did-Did you...are they real?" 

Virgil looked at the message Patton had sent him. It was a screenshot from a conversation Patton had with an unknown number (Virgil knew it had to be Rem). 

“Hello Patton”

“Hi! Who’s this?”

‘I do not give out my name, all I’m here to do is tell you the truth”

“The truth about what?”

‘Virgil Storm. You see, the school murders are none other than the work of your dear old, Virgil”

“That’s impossible, Virgil’s nice and shy and kind. He wouldn’t kill someone!”

“What are these pictures from then?”

Rem’s text was followed by pictures of Virgil’s murders. One of him cutting wires over Roman’s head, one of him drowning Logan in the chemistry lab sink, one of him dropping the hairdryer in the sink Remy was using, and of him throwing scissors at Damion. 

Virgil was shocked. This is what Damion had planned for him, he was left at the mercy of Patton, the one he had done all of this for, the one he cherished, the one he loved.

Patton spoke up again, still sounding as if he had been crying.

“Virgil...did you kill them? Cause I don’t wanna believe it but, it looks real”

Virgil didn’t know what to say. He had done this, it was his fault that Patton was hurt, but Virgil loved Patton, he wanted to protect Patton, he wanted to be with Patton forever and let no one hurt him.

“Virge, I’m sorry”

“Wait, Pat, what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry Virgil, I’m so so sorry” Patton was fully crying now, yet still trying to speak through the sobs.

“Patton, what are you talking about?”

“All I can say is…...I’m sorry”

  Virgil couldn’t get another word in as Patton hung the call up right then and there, leaving Virgil with countless questions. 

     It was ten minutes later Virgil got his answer as the sound of distant sirens filled the air. Virgil didn’t pay any attention though (he was working on school work, trying to not worry over what Patton was so sorry for). Soon though the sirens got louder, and louder till they seemed to be on Virgil’s street than it sounded as if cars pulled into his driveway. Virgil’s parents couldn’t be home, his mom worked till midnight and it was barely 11:00 and his dad, well...was never coming home.

Another text-sound dinged, barely loud enough for Virgil to hear it over the sirens. The message had come from Rem;

“Your special guests arrive yet, Virgil?”

“What are you talking about Rem?” “You really didn’t connect the dots? I always thought you were a smart one Virgil, but you proved me wrong at the last second. Well, maybe you can think over how you got here in your cell in juvie, I hope you have a nice time!

-your friend,

Remus”

Virgil’s blood chilled as he read the last message, again and again, The word juvie burning a hole in his head.

A knock rang through the house, all the way to Virgil’s room. Following the knock was shouting, “Open up, it’s the police! We’re looking for Virgil Storm.”.

[yzssie]

FANFIC GONE... GOOD? Pt. 3

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Chapters: 3/3

Warnings: (College) Teacher x student, smut, unprotected sex (we all know Tom ok, DO NOT have unprotected sex kids, unless you’re sure about that person like idk husband)

Words: 2.6k

A/N:

I want to thank everyone who enjoyed this story! I am so touched of how many people sent me so much love and I just want to say I Loki love all of you! Unfortunately, this is the last chapter. As the end of college is near, I might be a little bit absent. I currently need to finish my other work with Loki, and I also have a little smutty drabble with Tom in progress. 

BUT DO NOT BE SAD! I plan to do a sequel one-shot for this fanfic when I reach 500 followers as a gift for all the lovely people who support me! I’m somewhere around 400 so it might be sooner than you think hahahah /ihopelol/.

I would also try to take in some requests for short drabbles or imagines so if you have an idea, hit my ask box and I will note it. 

I apologize for the mistakes, I couldn’t proof-read very carefully since this week has been hectic.

You looked in the mirror and couldn’t comprehend yesterday’s interaction. His deep voice is still stuck in your head and you barely hold in a moan when you remember all the pleasure you got from him. You chose a black skirt, stopping right above your knees, just a little bit tight to tease him more. You wouldn’t go out without panties anywise, but instead, take them off in the college bathroom. Your ride to college seemed faster than usual, you were too eager today that you didn’t even go to the other classes. You decided to only drop by Tom’s course which was your last, again. Arriving, you quickly go to the bathroom and get rid of your panties, even if you have some second thoughts. What if anyone sees?

“Y/N!” you hear your friend calling your name. “MR. HIDDLESTON’S ASSISTANT?” her mouth gapes and you furrow your eyebrow at her.

“How did you know?”

“Uhm no, the question is why you didn’t tell me.”

“I… he asked me yesterday and I forgot to mention it.”

“Asked?” she raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Is there any chance that he read your,”

“NO!” you quickly interrupt her, making you facepalm yourself for the obvious panicked fast reply. “No, I… deleted it.”

“You what?”

“He just stopped me in the hallway and offered to help him since I am the best student and well, I got into his office and while he went out to take a bottle of water from the vending machine, I’ve deleted it,” you feel bad lying to your friend, but you wouldn’t tell her the complicated situation you’ve got yourself in. Not now at least. You understand that you have to keep this between the two of you because you don’t want Tom to mistrust you.

“Ok…” she eyes you suspiciously but decides to give up for now as the clock is already showing the time for courses to start.

You both enter the classroom and your friend stops when she sees you opting for a seat in the first row.

“I should, you know, be more,”

“I got it,” she sighs and takes the seat next to your left. Luckily all the seats were just for one person, separated from each other so she wouldn’t see more than she should. The door opens and Mr. Hiddleston’s eyes immediately set on your figure, hiding a smirk which threatens to escape his lips. He greets everyone and sits at his desk, rubbing his chin while making eye contact with you. A shiver runs through your whole body and you slightly rub your legs, feeling already drenched down there.

“Open them,” he blunts and your breath hitches. “The books,” he adds but you do get the message. Everyone is flipping their pages and you slowly try to open your legs, not too much because you're embarrassed and at the same time afraid that you'll get caught, even if he's the only one able to see what's happening under your desk.

He furrows his eyebrows, frustrated of how little you are showing and this time he addresses straight to you.

“Did I stutter, Miss Y/N?” his pupils darken as he watches your flushed face. “Book,” your friend whispers and you look at the closed book. You open it quickly while you also try to open your legs more, finally exposing your glistening sex under his stare. He bites his lips and adjusts his glasses.

“Ok class, let's start.”

Tom thinks about giving an assignment in order to distract everyone from him. It was the first time he said he will grade this at the end of the class, but he needs some time to play, with you. After observing his target a bit more, he sits up to move around the students’ desks, pointing some few mistakes to some of your colleagues. You couldn't concentrate too much on the assignment and Tom knows it just by the way your back straightens. He finally reaches your desk and he leans over your back, his hot breath hitting your neck.

“That's not the theory you should use, Y/N,” his hand lands on your thigh and you almost gasp. Luckily for you, this classroom had separate seats for each student, and the right side is covered in order to lean into it, only the left side is opened to enter the seat. His frame is covering the opening and while he murmurs something about literature and what you should have written, his cold hand slips under your skirt, warm skin burning against his fingers. He softly hums in approval as his index finger finds your clit and you glance a look at his face, biting your lip to hold in a moan. He shows you a little innocent smile and enters a finger in your hole, making you jump.

“Very good,” he hums again and after a few more pumps, leaves you speechless. Your breath is caught in your neck and it seems he sees you holding it as his lips mouth, “Breathe”. Another shudder leaves your body and you feel your juices leaping down your thighs. The thought of doing such a wicked action during class set your whole body on fire.

“Ok, let me take your papers now, we still have few things to talk about and then you’re free, miss Y/N?”

Oh no. Don’t.

“Mind to come and write on the whiteboard some characteristics of this literary movement?” he evilly grins at you, knowing how frustrated you are.

You get up silently and adjust your skirt, still afraid of something to show up. You pick up the marker while glaring at him. He rotates his chair and comes closer to where you stand, covering your lower frame with his wide shoulders and while you are writing, his legs start to rub your ankle. Your knee weakens and you stumble a little bit, but regain balance as you try to focus on being sane and not jumping onto him in front of everyone.

“Good,” his eyes land on your ass, knowing it’s naked beneath the thin material of the skirt. His bulge is tingling already and as much as he likes to tease you, he knows it will be painful for him too.

Tom glances at the clock, twenty more minutes… twenty… more…

“Ok, let’s have a deal. You all have to read the chapter regarding this literary movement till next time and we will be discussing it together. I feel like I have already pained you enough with today’s surprise essay.”

Everyone sighs in pleasure and they start to gather their things.

“Not coming?” your friend waits for you but you shake your head.

“I have some papers to organize for Mr. Hiddleston,” you clear your throat and she gives you a wink before leaving.

The class is empty now and before you turn around, you gasp when Tom’s hands stick to your arse.

“Y/N,” his breath ghosts on your neck and you feel your pulse racing, breath hitching. His arms move on your hips and your back melts into his chest, a strong bulge pressing against you. “Office, now!” he growls. You both quickly pack up and lead to the office, his hands are messily handling the keys and unlock the door. You throw your bag on the sofa and jump on him, tugging at his lower lip. His hands encircle you, gluing your body to his, desperate for touch. Your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking his head back a little bit to stop the kiss. Your lips land on his neck this time and he thrusts into you once, revealing his hard rock tent inside his pants. You take off his glasses slowly, taking your time to slid them off while drowning into his blue eyes.

“Who would have known that my best student is hiding a little monster underneath that nice girl image she portrays,” he turns you around and slaps your ass, making you yelp. His hand is slowly tracing your skin inside the skirt and your whole body trembles at the warmness of his gentle touch. He suddenly tugs your skirt down and hisses at your exposed core.

“Such a naughty girl you are,” this time he soothes the reddened part of your cheek, groping it after.

“Shit,” you mutter and try to turn around but he pins you between his body and the desk.

“I am afraid I do not accept such profanities in my office, miss,” he groans and with a grip in your hair, he forces you to bend on his desk, pens and papers falling down, again. “You do understand that this will have grave consequences,” he states.

“Please Mr. Hiddleston,” you quiver.

A dark chuckle is heard at your attempt to stimulate more by rubbing your legs.

“Oh darling,” he moans and gives you another slap to stop you moving. “You will face those consequences,” his fingers caress your thighs and rub your wet sex. A pleasurable low sound is heard from both of you. His hands travel to your waist and then grab your breasts, your back arching to meet his touch. In a short swift, your blouse is thrown away and your bra is revealed to his hungry stare.

He groans and messily undoes his tie; he brings your hands at your back and ties them in a strong nod making your body jerk. For how long you have been waiting for this. His pointer finger draws a line on your spine, admiring the piece of work he has squirming. He leans and brushes his lips on your loin, moving up till your shoulders, kisses washing your skin. You expose your neck and his teeth quickly mark what it’s his while you gasp, but can’t deny that you don’t like the pain he inflicts on you. His hands are undoing your bra and as soon as he frees your breasts he takes them in his palms, pinching your nipples. He takes off his shirt and unties his belt.

“Love, you’re soaked.”

You can’t speak anymore, the only sounds you make are now frustrated moans. When his fingers finally rub your folds you can almost see sparks, you feel the wall clench in anticipation of his intrusion. He finds your sensitive bud and draws circles on it, sometimes pressing and when you think it can’t get better, two fingers slowly stretch you, coated with your juices. You almost scream and he hushes you.

“Let’s not get caught,” he chuckles and his fingers curl inside you, making you bite your lips in pleasure. “I want to hear you, little one,” he whispers to your ears, “But not that loud.��

“Mhm,” you nod, unable to form any coherent words. His ministrations continue to fire you up and the moment his mouth hover over your clit you scream again and bounce unwillingly. His hands grab your waist to keep you from moving, pressing his muscled arms down your body. You whine and beg and struggle against his tongue, forgetting what he has just said about being loud moments ago. He draws circles on your clit and you can feel an orgasm forming in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh God Y/N, you’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs but stops and you whine at the loss of touch.

He steps away, creating a small distance between you two and thinks for a moment: he stepped over the boundaries that should have existed, yet it feels so right. So right to have you there on his desk, bent and tied up, begging for touch, for release.

“Mr. Hiddleston,” you wiggle your butt and his dick aches, boxers restraining it too much. Your womanhood is glistening with your juice, because of him. He made you like this, all pride is thrown back in both your minds, carnal and animalistic impulses taking over your bodies.

You need him fast. You hear his pants dropping and you turn your head around to look at him. His blue eyes catch yours as if he might suck your entire soul by only staring. You shiver when your gaze shifts to his big bulge covered by his black boxers. You straighten yourself and he raises an eyebrow as you drop in front of him. You graze your teeth around his stomach and grab the waistline of his boxers, trying to push them down with your mouth. He smirks at your action and he’s surely ten times more stimulated. His erection stands up quickly after you successfully unclothed him and you inhale sharply at his length. Oh, how much you have fantasized about this  With a slow lick around his pink tip, your rosy lips wrap around his end and take him in your mouth. He hisses and grabs a hold of the armchair next to him to keep his balance. You try to suck as much as you can from his length and relax your throat muscles but his aroused state is giving you difficulties in doing so. However, the pleasure is definitely more intense than both of you imagined. He throws back his head while little gasps and moans resonate from the back of his throat, a hand grabbing your hair and hurrying your pace. You moan against his head when you see him throwing away all his defense, hair shriveled as he runs his other hand through it. His eyes open and looks at you, cheeks reddened.

“Y/N, fuck,” he hastily brings you back to the desk and teases your entrance with the precumming tip.

His hands scramble for a condom in his drawers.

“I’m on the pill, professor, please, quickly” you shake and he places a soft kiss on your neck as he slowly penetrates you.

“You’re tight,” he groans when your walls clench him on dearly life. Your air leaves your lungs, hot blood flowing in your veins from the intrusion.

He moves slowly at the beginning to let you adjust to his size but soon enough his movements fasten and you moan at every hard thrust.

“Mr. Hiddleston,” you feel him hitting a sensitive spot in your insides and he grips your tied hands to keep a steady pace.

“Tom,” his name roll on your tongue so yearning that he growls and turns you over, inserting himself back as his lips find yours. You sigh into his mouth, finally tasting his sweet cavern. His tongue thrust at the same time as his hips do, and you battle for dominance unsuccessfully. His hands roam on your bare back, his naked chest is pressed on your breasts and you can feel his soft skin sweating against your own. He breaks the kiss and moans your name when your body tenses, indicating the upcoming of your orgasm.

“Cum for me Y/N,” he growls in your ear and you shudder as a blissful orgasm takes over. He captures your lips before screaming his name and your praises are engulfed in his mouth. A few seconds later, his mouth finds your neck and bites on it to cover his own groan as he releases himself inside you, bucking his lower part to let everything out. You both collapse on the desk, his weight pressing you down. You wiggle a little bit and he sees the discomfort of your position. He unties your hands and as he wants to stand up, you bring him back to your chest, purring in approval as your fingers brush through his curls.

“I can’t believe this really happened,” you fight a chuckle and he raises his head to look at you with a faint grin plastered on his face.

“You could get me fired.”

“Or I could get you some more orgasms,” you smirk and he raises his eyebrows amused.

Taglist opened (please mention which one you want)

TOM/LOKI GENERAL TAGLIST: @drakesfiance, @cutiepotpie177 , @brokenthelovely , @heart-shaped-hell, @ultrailoveharrystylesblog , @mooncrow123 , @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms , @powerstrangerdacre , @abrunettefangirlnerd , @darkprincessloki92 , @little-moonbeam-666 , @youreawizardjulie , @writingmi , @lokislilslut , @abelstnbhd, @januarycalendargirl , @yuna-belikova , @joyofbebbanburg , @timevortexheart , @captainrainbowpanda , @thesisterofthedevil , @spunky-89 , @unlikelytigerqueen , @loreleyfromouterspace , @bitchwhytho , @justafandomsuckup  , @this-side-of-midnight5 , @gabealien12 , @asgardianfloozy , @lokissidehoe , @witchbitch-stuff , @dawnlaufeyson , @captainchedder , @bloominess , @yurio-plisetksy , @buckybarneslovesteve , @casuallyobsessivewitchcraft  

FANFIC GONE… GOOD? TAGLIST: @justmesadgirl , @lokislilcaribbeanprincess , @youcantcatchafallingstar , @smexylemony , @asgardianfloozy , @louhpstuff , @pxstelink , @greatbananaexpert , @spunky-89 , @devilbat , @racewife2004 , @godhateskyleigh , @nijiru , @marvelloussweetie , @mellowgirl01 , @disappointingyellowhighlighter , @omgmelepaolastuff , @anchored-in-high-tide , @aesthetic-stark , @crystalxxmeth , @kn0ra , @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy , @imasultforlokiandspencerreid , @starletah , @thirstyforhiddles , @confessionsofastrugglingteen , @vioietta , @heccinasgard , @inmyworstlies , @melancholicreader , @bitchcrsft , @lady-loki-ren , @marveloushiddleston , @shockwavee , @harleyquinn1498 , @bluethingsforlife , @ultramexicanfangirl 

*crossed username means I cannot tag you for some reason :( *

[rkivepacks]

TITLE: good dreams make you bleed Originally posted on: AO3/dtgloss Pairing: taekook/kookv/vkook (Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jeongguk) Rating: PG13 Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2,081 Trigger Warning/s: Swearing Disclaimer: This work is solely from the idea of the author. Should there be similarities with the works of other respected artists are purely unintentional. This also do not reflect on the real lives of the artists portrayed in this work. Comments, suggestions and any other concerns are accepted in my inbox. Thank you! 

Summary:  i made reservations at a restaurant and the hostess informed me about my company that has already arrived and hey it's you ???? au

Jeongguk is a painter by law. Babysitter by choice.

It started when doing commissions all throughout his junior and senior year of arts school became too much for an arts major to handle all at once because, as his mother once said when he went back home to Busan for a short break ‘you’re in the last two years of your college which also means things get hard and even harder. At some point you have to drop a responsibility or two if you still want to walk the damn convention center and get the diploma yourself.’

Commissions and extra money for better dinner and boba teas be damned. Jeongguk gradually had less commissions coming in and some days and weeks, no commissions at all. He had actual plates and actual student stuff he has to finish unless he wants to repeat his past mistake of almost submitting a commission as his final project.

Jeongguk is officially a graduate. Unemployed definitely not by choice.

The period where he was waiting for his graduation up to the present, the man was busy babysitting on the side, doing some commissions and having art classes for kids during month-long summer camps nearby. Although he hates kids between the ages of six to twelve, it will have to do if he wants to be all mighty and independent as all people born under the sign of virgos do.

“Jeonggukie, Sanhi kept on moving and now my lines are messed up!” One kid from his class that day wailed, pointing to his ruined drawing sheet.

“That’s enough. Sanhi would you mind saying sorry and then finish your work on my table instead?” He reprimands and gives the kid with the ruined sheet, Miri, a new clean one. Jeongguk helps the naughty little boy move farther as not to cause more chaos and goes on with checking the works of the rest of the class.

“Remember to clean your brushes before packing up!” He reminds the kids who thought nodding once or twice would be enough to let their teacher know they heard him.

Eventually he gets tired and sits at the corner, checking the time. Only 43 minutes left until class ends and he can go home and wallow in self-pity. He checks the notifications he didn’t mind during the early hours of the class and figures he can reply to some (hoping some of these were commissions).

From: Joon-hyungoo Jungoo are u gonna go grocery shopping today?? Let me know so I can do it Press 1 for more info.

From: unknown Good afternoon! This is the guardian of Haechin. Do you mind keeping her company for a little while? I won’t be able to make it on time from where I am now. I’m sorry for the trouble.

Jeongguk ponders for a moment before checking the time again, seeing that there are 22 minutes left.

Haechin is the little girl with different hairstyles adorning her head everytime she shows up and her Sofia the First bag she always carries that contains more packed snacks than school materials.

To: Joon-hyungoo Got held up hyung !!!! Can u do it hhhehehek

To: Unknown Hello! I’ll be waiting in the classroom with Haechin. See you!

Later on the kids were dismissed, their parents slowly coming in to check on their child packing up and cleaning. Jeongguk taught the kids that cleaning up the work area is important and all that shit. He calls Haechin over and tells her to occupy the teacher’s table as he cleans up the rest of the materials and his own personal belongings as they wait for Haechin’s guardian.

“Daddy!” Haechin explains and waddles to the door. Jeongguk looks over to where she ran off to, expecting the guardian who was always taking Haechin to and from the art classes only to see a different person this time. He opts to make the connection that this man must be the guardian in the text messages.

Jeongguk shortly wonders if the usual guardian getting Haechin from his classes was the mother or a babysitter. The woman could pass for a mother although she’s young and petite.

The man (in a suit. Definitely not a baby sitter because he doesn’t think babysitters baby sit in suits. Or maybe this is a different household with different house rules?) squishes Haechin’s cheeks to greet her and asks questions about her day before putting his attention to him.

“Hi! Thank you so much. I’m really sorry for this I could not leave for work earlier to make it on time here.” The man in suit who definitely isn’t the babysitter says, extending a hand to Jeongguk.

“Oh. No worries, I don’t have to be somewhere else after this. So. It’s okay, really.” He says, shaking the man (again, in a suit) that was extending his hand to him.

“We’ll get going, I guess. See you soon…” The man trailed off, realizing the two adults do not actually know each other.

“Jeon Jeongguk.” He introduces himself. “I’m the teacher… obviously.” He chuckles.

“Kim Taehyung. I’m Haechin’s dad.” The man in suit says. “It’s getting late so we’ll head out.” He waves and takes a hold of Haechin’s hand.

“See you tomorrow, teacher!” Haechin waves and Jeongguk makes the same gesture before muttering a “bye!” just loud enough for the two to hear. On their way out, voices that could only be attributed to the daughter and father duo in the hallway discusses what to have for dinner and the daughter replying with what she wants for her packed snacks tomorrow instead.

+

The shared apartment sounded eerily quiet and the locked door could only signify that no one was home as of the moment. Jeongguk makes his way to the kitchen only to find a cup in the sink that Namjoon or Hoseok probably used, and assumes that the two went grocery shopping and sending a silent prayer that they don’t miss something essential for Jeongguk’s daily routine (His fortified milk).

The sound of the passcode being punched in outside resonates throughout the apartment, signaling the arrival of the two and as predicted, the sound of numerous supermarket bags being carried into the kitchen. Jeongguk rushes to aid the older men in carrying the large bags before setting them on the counter.

“Why did you get home late? Didn’t I tell you that your curfew is only ten in the evening? Stop spending your lunch money on liquors and cigarettes. Study, Jeongguk.” Hoseok makes a big show of portraying a hardworking mother with a low-class financial background, Jeongguk being the deadbeat son.

“You’re so full of shit, hyung.” He deadpans before laughing at the latter’s antics. Namjoon goes straight for the coldest pitcher of water from the fridge and pours himself a glass, ignoring the usual banter of the two.

Jeongguk checks the fridge if it has been stocked up with fresh groceries (and to make sure his Hoseok hyung does not put another toothpaste in the freezer just because he can. The toothpaste tube ended up in the side of the sink for a whole three days to defrost and to properly be used). Jeongguk decides not to mention the nut tarts that are in the fridge that surely cost more than usual as it was a delicacy being sold in the local supermarket.

After a quick dinner all by himself as he got home late and the two already had their share of the dinner, Jeongguk retreated back to his room to check his other works in progress. One of his wips.

(“The fuck is a wips?” Namjoon asks, incredulously.

“Work in progress, hyung.” Jeongguk answers, half-annoyed his cereal was halted halfway to his mouth. “I thought it meant what in actual phuck.” Hoseok supplements, aiming to high five Namjoon across the table.

The three men laugh at the light joke over instant noodles for snacks.)

“Look at this baby… You’re only lacking a background and a few details, right?” Jeongguk talks to one of the paintings for a client. “Yes… I’m just going to save what’s left of these decent pants and I’ll give my full attention to you.” He sighs, walking over to his drawer full of clothes then to the bathroom.

Jeongguk gets back to his room with his face slightly wet from being washed and a few droplets getting to his top. With a soft playlist of live performances from various ballad artists from youtube, Jeongguk gets to work, opting to not do a grand background and only fixing minor details on the painting.

+

For Friday class Jeongguk had prepared his 17 students their own sheet of paper with a large initial of their first names covering the whole page. The students were bound to think they are in for another game that will surely get the whole class chaotic. Jeongguk promised to never again host another game (someone used a permanent market on the whiteboard that took ages to get off. He looks at the faint mark left on it). Everyone erupts in murmurs and Jeongguk listens to the crazy ideas of toddlers.

“We know how to do the alphabet though.” One wondered aloud.

“Teacher, why is my H bigger than Aehoon’s A?” One asked thoughtfully. “Teacher, Gonghoon wrote on the paper already!” Someone chastised his classmate.

“Okay, listen toddlers.” Jeongguk gathers their attention. Once settled, Jeongguk asks the little children to draw inside the big letters in order to describe themselves. He scans the faces of the children as some were left confused, some already forming ideas, and some were too busy folding the corners of the sheets.

Jeongguk settles to watch over the kids from his place, from where he can see all of them in one vision, with a rough overview of their artworks. Some dived in into work while some were busy watching the others work. He goes around at some point to assist students and to reprimand one for almost ruining a clean sheet of a classmate.

The class ends soon, Jeongguk signhs in relief at the realization that it’s the weekend, he can work on some commissions and rest. He tells all the children to clean up after themselves and to take home the unfinished work and finish it at home. Jeongguk cleans up the rest, only residing to his table once he has managed to fix the mismatched crayons to their proper boxes. He notices that Haechin is tugging at his pants, only the two of them in the room after having the other kids driven home by their guardians and parents.

“Is my daddy not here yet?” Haechin asks.

“Haechin, how about we draw something else? Your father said he’s having trouble looking for your favorite candy right now so he’s running late!” He comforts the child, although he also wonders who’s going to be at the door to get Haechin.

“Haechin?” A familiar voice makes way through the door.

“Daddy, teacher said you got me my candy?” Haechin greets his dad.

“I’m sorry I had to compromise so she wouldn’t feel bad.” Jeongguk rushes to apologize to the distressed father. He does not even know if Haechin is allowed near candies. Save him for panicking.

“It’s okay.” Taehyung smiles apologetically to the man before turning to his daughter. “Baby, your candy is so hard to find, I went everywhere for it but it’s gone?” The father consoles the little child.

As cute as the scene is in front of him, Jeongguk checks the time and he really should be closing his classroom now if he wants to make it home on time before rush hour picks. He tells the same thing (except for the getting home because his car’s coding hits on Fridays so he takes the public transportation) and the father and daughter duo rushes to get home but not before apologizing profusely courtesy of the man.

Haechin waves at him and he manages to choke out a “don’t forget your homework!” and the father smiles at him before the two disappears behind the door.

That night Jeongguk stays up in front of his laptop, using it as a heater on his lap as he browse through his emails and blog. An email confirming a dinner meeting with a new client was opened up to a new window, the secretary of the client of his informing him the details for tomorrow night (as it is the only available time for the busy man, apparently).

+

[end]

[See all works here]

[woo-san-shine]

Our Way

ateez college au

Premise: You and your best friend from high school move away to a university 3 hours away from your small hometown. You find yourself meeting a strange cast of characters along the way that will help you find your way throughout your freshman year.    

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None 

Author’s Note: A work in progress!!! Mostly just for fun

prev // next 

Chapter 6

The sun is beginning to set as we make our way across campus.  The air is still warm, and there are people lazily laying on the grass, talking loudly about plans for that evening, or just walking around their new home.  Hongjoong is leading the pack upfront with Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jungho are still talking about the game that they had left behind, Yunho and Mingi are clowing each other with Sooyoung laughing extra loud every time Mingi says anything at all.

"She realizes Mingi isn't that funny, right?" A low voice says to me. It was San.  He had fallen into step next to me without me realizing.

"Oh, she acts like this whenever she really likes someone," I say to him glancing in her direction.  She had just let out another loud giggle at something Mingi had said.

"Hmmm..." San looks back and forth from Sooyoung to Mingi. "I guess I can see it."

"What, them getting together?"

"Yeah. But she's your friend, I'm sure you have more of an opinion."

"Sooyoung likes someone who... needs her, in a way.  She likes to be in control." Sooyoung had boyfriends in the past who couldn't handle her confidence and strong personality, or at least that's what I would tell her when the relationship would end.  "Also helps that they're in the same major," I add.

"Ah, that makes sense," he pauses.  "What are you studying?"

"I'm in the College of Art majoring in Graphic Design.  You?"

"I'm in the College of Education.  I want to be an elementary school teacher."

"That's adorable," I say before I can stop myself.  Goddamnit, why do I keep doing this? "I mean kids... are adorable..."

San smiles.  "Ha, yeah. I've always been good with kids. Yunho is in education too, so I’ll have classes with him."

"Aw that's nice to be with someone you know.”

“You’ll be with Yeosang though, right? He’s the same major as you.”

"Yeah I've heard, still have to actually meet him though."

"He's a treat alright. A little shy at first but he comes out of his shell once you get to know him."

The group comes to a stop in front of a large all-glass building. You can see the reflection of the sunset illuminating off of one side.

"Wow," Sooyoung says gazing up at the building.

"It's even better on the inside," Mingi says.

We enter the building and are greeted by a large lobby willed with giant cushy chairs, flat-screen TVs, and it’s very own dining hall.  It was much nicer that my dorm lobby, but it also seemed rather cold and unwelcoming.  Not as homey.  We pile into the elevator and I find myself squeezed in between San and Wooyoung.

"Aww, a rose between two thorns," Wooyoung says looking from San to me.

San rolls his eyes.

"Hey, I saw that!" Wooyoung yells.

The two joke back and forth for the entire elevator ride and the walk down the hallway to a room with a whiteboard labeled "Kang Yeosang" on it. Hongjoong knocks. After a few second and boy answers the door.

"Yeosang!!!!" Everyone except Sooyoung and I yell. The boys hurriedly make their way into the room, either hugging or giving the boy who answered the door a clap on the back.

"No, yeah, please. Make yourselves at home," he says sarcastically looking over his shoulder at everyone who had just run in. He turns back to us. He looks slightly puzzled.

"Uh, hi," I say. "I don't think you know us, but I'm Jaemin and this and Sooyoung and we..."

"Oh, right. It's nice to meet you, I'm Yeosang," he bows to us and them shakes our hand. "They told me about you. Please come in."

The thing that I noticed first about Yeosang was his deep voice. It was quite a shock coming out of his fairly small frame. He was probably one of the smallest out of the group, but his features were striking. He had thick brown hair that covered his forehead, bright green eyes, rather large ears, and high cheekbones. His face looked as if it had been carved out of marble, there was no other way to describe it.

We walk in and as he shuts the door behind us.  Sooyoung whispers "Seriously, what have they been saying about us?"

I shrug, but before I can say anything I am stopped in my tracks by what I see. We have just walked into one of the nicest college dorms I had ever seen. There was a full kitchen with a small island, a dining table and chairs, a living room with a large couch and a TV, and a separate room with a bedroom and bathroom.

"You're kidding me," Sooyoung says, mouth slightly gaping.

Yeosang sheepishly runs his hand through his hair. "Uh, yeah it's a nice place." He looks embarrassed. "I'm on the scholarship so..."

"Yeosang's family also has m-o-n-e-y," Yunho fake loudly whispers from his place at the dining table.

"Ya know everyone here knows how to spell and hear," Seonghwa says.

"I don't know about that, Mingi's pretty questionable," Wooyoung adds raising his hand in the air.

Mingi elbows Wooyoung hard in the ribs which makes him double over in pain. Yunho and Jongho snicker, Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but San and Hongjoong look slightly concerned.

"Wait, this was one of the options for living if you were on scholarship?" Sooyoung asks Yeosang.

"Yeah, I think so."

Sooyoung looks over in my direction for a brief second. I knew that she was probably thinking 'why the hell aren't we living here?' but there was no way that my family could've afforded this dorm. I look down at my shoes, slightly embarrassed.

"Do you both want a tour?" Yeosang asks us.

He takes Sooyoung and I around the apartment-style dorm while the others do indeed make themselves at home. By the time we're finished, most of the boys are in the living room. Someone had figured out how to turn on Yeosang's TV and started a game of Super Smash Bros. Sooyoung goes into the living room and confidently set herself next to Mingi on the couch. I walk over to the dining room table and sit across from Hongjoong, who was just sitting by himself and enjoying watching the boys play games. Yeosang follows and sits next to me.

"Are you the one in Graphic Design?" He asks me.

"Yep, that's me," I say with a small smile. "I've been told that's what you're studying too."

"Ha, yeah."

"Is your first class tomorrow Intro to Drawing at 9 a.m.?"

"Sure is."

"What?! Mine too!" Hongjoong says excitedly, breaking his stare from the intense game going on in the living room.

"What are you doing in that class?" Yeosang asks.

"It's for my minor! I told you that last month when we made our schedules."

"Oh right," he replies.

"You should totally sit with us tomorrow!" Hongjoong says to me.

"Really?" I ask.

"Of course!"

We talk for a while about what we think classes will be like before Yunho comes over and slams a large hand on the table.

"Alright people, it's almost time." He says to us.

"Time for what?" I ask him.

"The cleanse," he says seriously.

"The what?" I ask again, highly confused.

"Does she really not know," Wooyoung asks, walking over to stand next to Yunho.

I stare back at them, eyebrows raised.

"There's a tradition that the night before fall classes start all the freshman jump into the fountain," Wooyoung says to me.

"Wait," I say hands out stretched. "That huge fountain in the middle of campus?"

"That's the one," Wooyoung replies.

"But, why?" I ask the group.

"Some people think it's for good luck," Jongho answers.

"Almost like a cleanse before the semester starts," Hongjoong adds.

"I actually did hear about that, but I didn't know if it was true," Sooyoung says, still seated next to Mingi on the couch.

"That sounds kinda..." I start

"Dangerous? Silly? Pointless?" Seonghwa asks.

"Fun," I say.

"Well then let's get going!" Yunho yells, leading everyone out of the dorm.

We exit Yeosang's dorm and head in the direction of the fountain. It was dark now, but campus is still well-lit. There were a lot of people, presumably all freshman, heading in the same direction. Once we reach the fountain, there is a large crowd gathered around it. The fountain itself was probably a little smaller than a football field. There were large jets in the middle that shot water about 20 feet high. With the number of people that were here, it would be surprising if we all fit.

"How deep is it?" Yeosang asks, a little nervously.

"Oh come on, it probably only goes up to your knees," Mingi says nudging his shoulder.

"Hey, let's put our stuff over here!" Hongjoong yells, pointing to a large tree next to the crowd gathered around the fountain.

We head over in that direction. We all start to take our shoes off and pull our phones out of our pockets. Both Jongho and Wooyoung immediately take their shirts off and toss them with their things. Jongho's muscles and Wooyoung's confidence are very apparent. San follows, but no one else seems to be as daring or seems to care. Seeing this, Sooyoung promptly strips down to a sports bra and spandex shorts. She isn't the smallest girl, but boy was she confident. She waltzes past Mingi who isn't even trying to hide staring at her. I look down at my own shirt, a white cotton T-shirt.

"It's gonna become see-through once it gets wet anyway, might as well take it off," Sooyoung whispers to me, winking.

I sigh and walk back over to where I had put my shoes and my phone. I peak around to make sure no one is looking at me and wriggle out of my shirt. I am now only wearing a black lace bralette and high-waisted jean shorts. This is as far as I'm going. I wrap my arms around myself and head over to we're the group is standing by the edge of the fountain.

"Two minutes until 10 o'clock!" Jongho yells after checking his watch.

"So what, do we just walk in?" Sooyoung asks the boys.

"Some people walk, some people fall in, some people swim all the way to the jets, really whatever you want," Hongjoong says.

"I have an idea," I say kinda shyly.

Every single boy's eyes look over to me.

"Uh, what if we all stood on the edge and jumped? Like, all together," I say. There's a pause. "Carefully, of course," I add.

They all glance in Hongjoong's direction, almost as if to get his approval.

"I like it! Everybody climb on the edge, quick!" He says.

We all form a line and step into the end he of the fountain. People around us are either with doing the same, sitting on the edge, or backing up like they are going to hurdle over the edge. I find myself in between Sooyoung and San. His face is shining with excitement, dimples in full view. He looks down at me and we both grin. He looks over my head and then cocks it to the side, indicating to look at what's going on next to me. I turn just in time to watch Mingi, who is next to Sooyoung, ask if he can hold her hand while we all jump.

"AWWWW HOW CUUUUUUTE," Wooyoung's loud voice echos from down the line. "I want to hold hand too!!!" He immediately grabs the hands of Yunho and Seonghwa on either side of him. Yunho sways precariously on the edge from the force of Wooyoung's hand holding and Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

A countdown begins to ripple across the crowd.

"TEN, NINE, EIGHT!"

The boys start whooping and cheering.

"SEVEN, SIX, FIVE!"

I can’t hold back my laughter as I look around at all the excited faces about to jump into the fountain. How could something so juvenile bring so much joy to a bunch of teenagers?

"FOUR, THREE, TWO!" 

At the last second, San grabs my hand and squeezes it.

"ONE!"

I feel my feet leaving the edge of the fountain. For a split second, I know nothing except the warm breeze through my hair and the pressure of San's hand in mine. But soon my body is engulfed in freezing cold water. The bottom of the fountain is surprisingly slippery and the moment my feet touch the bottom, I start falling backward. San starts to fall too and we both try our best to steady each other but eventually we fall into the cool water, completely submerged.

I quickly get up and brush my hair out of my eyes. San is kneeling on the ground, rubbing the water out of his eyes. When he looks up at me, we laugh at how silly we both look. I gaze around to look for the others. Everyone around us seems to have either fallen too, or is still climbing over the edge.  People are laughing, shouting, swimming, and splashing in the water. I find Hongjoong, who is wading from person to person making sure they are okay.

"Hey! You guys good?" He yells towards San and I.

I give him a thumbs-up as San starts to wade towards Wooyoung.  He whispers something into his ear and they both start to creep over towards Hongjoong, who has his back turned.  Once they reach him, Wooyoung grabs Hongjoong’s arms and raises them above his head.  San goes for his legs.  The pair hoist above the water and start to swing him back and forth.  The others notice and start chanting.  

“HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG!” 

After a few more swings, they toss him back into the water.  A few seconds pass before he emerges from the water.  He stares back at his friends, all of whom are giggling or cackling with laughter.  He pretends to act mad before a huge smile spreads across his face, even bigger than mine. 

We spend a good thirty or so minutes just playing around in the water, starting with a crackhead version of ‘sharks and minnows’.  Once a game of chicken starts, I decide to sit this one out.  I wade over to an edge of the fountain that isn’t occupied and lie on my back, floating atop of the water.  I stare up at the night sky.  

The last day and a half had been so busy that I hadn’t even had the chance to really just stop and think.  Classes start tomorrow.  Am I prepared?  Will the professors like me?  Do I even know where my classes are? 

I figure suddenly obstructs my view of the night sky.  It’s Jongho.  

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asks. 

I sit up and lean my back against the fountain’s edge. “No, of course,” I pat the top of the water next to me. 

He takes a seat. 

“This is pretty fun, huh,” I say to him.  

“Yeah, pretty cool tradition.” He pauses for a second. “Um.. I just wanted to say thanks.” 

“For what?” 

“For uh... wanting to hang out with us I guess.” He looks over to his friends and Sooyoung who are still playing in the water. 

I am taken aback. “Well, you don’t have to thank me.” 

“I do, really.  We haven’t really had friends outside of our group in so long.  Most people either think we are too intimidating or too weird to want to hang out with us.” 

Well, he wasn’t totally wrong.  The group as a whole was slightly intimidating and the way the interacted with each other could come across as a little weird. 

I wave my hand to him. “I should be the one thanking you!  If it wasn’t for you guys Sooyoung and I would probably be cooped up in or dorm staring at the wall.”

He chuckles. 

“Really, thank YOU for introducing us to everyone,” I say as genuinely as I can. 

“I’m glad you needed help carrying all those boxes yesterday,” he says smiling.

I look over at him. When I meet his gaze, he shyly looks down and fidgets with his fingers.  I wanted to say something nice back, but before I can open my mouth a wave a water washes over us.  

“Hey! We’re about to head out you two.” Wooyoung had come over and splashed us. 

We all climb out of the fountain and rush over to the tree where we had put our things.   

“Will we be seeing you again?” Yunho asks me, his large eyes extra wide.  

“I sure hope so,” I reply.  

As I am saying goodbye to Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang, San walks up to me. 

“You have a leaf in your hair,” I say as he stops in front of me.  I stand on my tip-toes to reach to pick it out of his black and red-streaked hair. 

“Oh, thank you,” he says.  “It was nice to meet you, Jaemin.” He wears a soft smile, dimples only slightly peaking out. 

“Uh, no of course. It was nice to meet you too,” I say shyly.  I clutch my t-shirt to my chest. 

Before I can say anything else, Sooyoung grabs me by the arm and starts to drag me towards the direction of our dorm.  Maybe it’s a good thing I keep getting interrupted when talking with these boys.  I don’t know why I’m always at such a loss for words.  

prev // next

[gliitch-effect]

Last nights dream was a short one, but very vivid and had good moments that outweighed the bad ones.

—

It began on a rainy courtyard leading to a school. This is the exact same courtyard in every dream about school. Big, lots of grass, a plaza area surrounding a fountain where cars can drop students off. The building occasionally changes, but the courtyard and surrounding streets remain the same. Also, the school is in a residential area. There’s houses and normal (middle-upper class) neighborhood stuff around. Very pretty area overall. My dream world is nice, and sometimes I wish it existed.

I was dressed in a long grey overcoat over a formal uniform, this time my hair was long and fluffy. The coat was a bit big for me, the sleeves stretched over my hands and it fit awkwardly, like it was swallowing me. But it was comfortable and warm in the cold rain, so I tightened the belt wrap and went with it. This seemed to be a university rather than a middle or highschool like I normally dream about, many many new students gathered near the entrance of the school. I went inside and headed to my new class. I realized once I got in that I forgot my materials in my locker but it was too late by then.

Being in an unfamiliar environment I went back to my old ways of clamming up and stuttering and overall being very unapproachable and shy. My anxiety was awful. The teacher asked for some people to volunteer to draw things on the whiteboard as she discussed them. Me and another student both said yes. The teacher then started talking about..Mario enemies? Or even just symbols. Draw the blocks by memory. Draw the blue shell, now the thwomp. Now draw mettaton from undertale?? It was throwing me off, and the other students were getting angry that I couldn’t draw them right. I just couldn’t remember the details and ended up messing it up. Eventually they booed me away from the board and I had to take a seat. I found an open table with only two students there. As I went to sit, they said “can you not sit with us?” I stood there. Everyone looked at me. I decided fuck it, I’m leaving. No one wants me here anyway.

So like I normally do in school dreams, I left. Just walked right out. This time, no one tried to stop me. I walked out into the rain and decided to just walk until I found something. I was free now, so I could go wherever I wanted. I found a building nearby that I’ve been dreaming about for months now. This building is entirely wooden, seemingly abandoned, and has beautiful doors. Massive dark wood doors with beautiful time worn carvings and antique doorknobs. The doors always seem to lead to something different each time I manage to get in. Sometimes it’s locked. Other times I go in and it’s a house, sometimes it’s a church, this time it was..some sort of meeting room for a group of time traveling mages.

I was excited to see the building again so I went right up and knocked on the doors. They swung open and I heard a “hello?” But saw no one. Then another voice, a man this time, said “come in, come in! We’ve been expecting you.” I walked in and shut the doors. The..design of the place I was in was hard to explain. I faced a broken down staircase but you could also see the second floor, like a weirdly built sim house. To my left and right were hallways with dusty rugs and old oil lamps, I could see light pouring in from small windows. It seemed the building was very big and spacious.

When I turned to the hallway on the left, the speaker appeared. A man in strange but pretty clothing (think old fashioned merchant but magical.., white cloth and leather packs combined with colorful silk scarves embroidered with gold thread patterns, magic items hung from belts and whatnot. His hat and shoes looked Persian(? I think I’m getting the cultural style right. Very well could have been vaguely Indian too) also colorful with gold trim and patterns) looking to be in his early 30’s smiled and beckoned me closer. Several other varied people including children in brown robes looked at me from behind him. They all seemed shy and a little wary of me. The main man was animated and excited, waving his arms around, clasping them together. “Oh I’m so glad you’ve arrived! So long have we waited for you to join us, it’s just been so busy you see. I apologize for our absence. But you’re here now!”

As we walked into the room (which was much smaller than I initially thought) he and the others took their seats at various wooden tables with stools. The tables were decked out in scrolls and books and ink and quills, crystals, what have you. I stood there for a second, taking it in. I asked him who they were, and they explained that they were a small group of magic seekers who specialized in world traveling in dreams, and this was their headquarters. The house itself was a series of portals to different places. Soon I felt this intense presence nearby. I stopped him to ask “what’s that I’m feeling?” He said “peace. Isn’t it lovely?” One of the other members, a tall african looking man who seemed to be part cat (beautiful piercing orange eyes, cat ears, golden face makeup, and features that suggested being not entirely human) said it was because I could detect changes in reality. He said to breathe and let myself experience them.

At that moment I put an arm out and the objects on a table in the back rose and spun whimsically. I smiled and walked into the presence I felt and immediately began floating! I rose all the way up to the ceiling! It felt like a pressure was holding me in the air and it felt so REAL I laughed and smiled and loved it. The leader clapped and cheered “excellent! Wonderful, you’re a natural! Isn’t it fantastic?” When I was ready I floated back down and took a seat. At some point he explained that they had been having difficulties lately due to some invaders. Monsters from another realm taking over dreams. When he described them I recognized them as the monster-humanoid-wolves I’d seen from other dreams I had. They would wake me up from their sheer presence. They were large in number but I’d only ever seen a few at a time. Just then, one appeared behind one of the other members. I screamed. It erupted into chaos then, slashing at us, I think a member died but now I think they were only pushed out of the dream because they disappeared but their clothes remained. I woke up shortly after due to my phone alarm ringing.

[youngbloodseavey]

it started with a spider... // zach herron

moodboard by @tempus-ut-luceant

request: none

summary: while balancing superhero life and normal life, teenage superhero zach herron suddenly has a new variable swing into his balance. a love life.

pairing: spiderman!zach x fem!reader

triggers: cursing

disclaimer: this is NOT a direct copy of spiderman homecoming. there will be some parts that mirror the movie, but the dialogue and plot will not be the same. so like don’t expect this to be the same as the movie okay i’m glad we got that cleared up lmao

*imagine their secret best friend handshake to be the one peter and ned do in homecoming okay thanks

||

zach herron was the last person anyone would think to be a superhero.

he was goofy and clumsy, not to mention a bit oblivious at times. he was an outcast in midtown high school, despite his charming personality.

“hey zachy-boy,” flash’s familiar sneer made itself known, the rosy-cheeked boy letting out a deep sigh. his chocolate brown eyes removed their gaze from the dirty linoleum floor, looking up at flash. he didn’t say anything, he knew that opening his mouth would just make it worse.

“what? too scared to say anything? you’re such a pussy, heroin,” flash scoffed, calling zach by the nickname he had dubbed him. “now get out of my way you little bitch.” flash didn’t give him any time to move, instead opting to shove zach out of the way and into the lockers.

the laughter of flash and his cronies echoed in zach’s ear, and his gaze met the tiles again as he began to scurry to his locker.

zach could feel the gazes from other students locked on his back, the pity and the judgement. the stares he knew all too well.

“zach!” the brown-haired boy jumped, his stride being stopped by a hand grabbing his shoulder. zach was whisked around, now facing his stopper.

“what do you want corbyn?” zach didn’t mean to sound irritated when talking to his best friend, but it simply came out that way. zach was having a very shitty day. he turned away and began walking to his locker again, corbyn jogging beside him to keep up.

“geez, what has your panties in a twist? was it flash again?” corbyn’s jogging came to a halt, slowing down to a casual walk.

“when is it not flash?” zach grumbled, finally arriving at his locker and putting his combination in. he opened it, the door of the locker slamming into the others, creating a resounding bang.

zach put his math textbook back into the locker, using the other hand to retrieve his ap chemistry textbook as corbyn kept talking.

“i’m sorry dude, you have to start defending yourself against him though. you can’t keep letting him push you around like this,” corbyn’s voice softened, but zach didn’t respond. “here, i know what’ll make you feel better. wanna play fortnite later?” zach perked up at the mention of his favorite video game.

“sure! do you wanna come over to mine? i can have aunt may pick up some pizza and i just got this dope new skin-” zach’s smile began to grow as his ramblings went on.

“you had me at pizza dude. i’ll be there at 7.” corbyn replied. zach finished retrieving his supplies, and turned back around to face his best friend.

“i’ll see you then.” zach and corbyn did their secret best friend handshake, before corbyn ran off to his calculus class.

zach took in a deep breath before closing his locker, beginning to walk towards his ap chemistry class. he located the classroom in no time, taking his seat in the back of the room.

an array of beakers and lab equipment laid before him, signaling that they were going to be doing a lab in class. his eyes trailed up to the clock on the wall, seeing that he was a minute or two early for class.

perfect.

he pulled out his notebook, retrieving a pencil from the front pocket of his backpack. he quickly flipped to a page titled “web fluid”, and the numbers and elements began working in his brain.

he scribbled down notes, remembering how his fluid had performed the last time he had used it and how he could improve it.

ideas flew through his head in a pace so rapid his hands could barely keep up.

maybe if i switch up this with this then the structural integrity will-

zach’s thoughts were cut off by someone sitting next to him, and he quickly closed his notebook. his eyes flew to the figure that sat next to him, and he simultaneously relaxed and tensed up when seeing who it was.

“hey zach!” y/n’s melodic voice rang out, sending a shiver down his spine.

“h-hi y/n,” zach’s cheeks flushed a deeper red, and he turned the other way. y/n y/l/n was the only person in the entire world who made him feel this way.

she was the epitome of perfect to zach. from the way her hair bounced as she walked through the hallways to the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. she was completely, utterly, perfect.

and to his luck, she was assigned to be his lab partner for the entire school year.

y/n took no notice of zach’s flustered expression, pulling out her notebook and a pencil.

“how are you?” y/n asked, a soft smile still painted on her face as she flipped to a blank page in her notebook.

“i’m doing-” so much better now that i’m here with you. “-good! how are you today?” zach responded, gaining his composure back.

“i’m good.” she shot him another stunning smile. “so zach, i was wondering-”

“okay class,” y/n was cut off by the sound of mrs. schwartz’s voice, the teacher’s heels clacking on the linoleoum as she strolled into the classroom. “today we’ll be doing a lab.” mrs. schwartz began to explain the lab, taking a whiteboard marker and beginning to draw out diagrams and instructions.

“what were you going to say?” zach whispered, his eyes flickering from the board to y/n.

“i’ll tell you later.” she responded, beginning to copy down mrs. schwartz’s words into her notebook.

his mind couldn’t seem to focus on whatever bullshit mrs. schwartz was spewing, instead focusing on the fact that y/n y/l/n had something to tell him.

“-you guys have until the end of the period to complete the lab, and your lab reports will be due next week. get to work.” with that mrs. schwartz sat down at her desk, beginning to grade papers or whatever teachers did as the class began to work.

y/n and zach got to work, beginning to measure and add components to their mixture. his mind worked quickly, working out equations and elements in his brain.

soon enough, class was over and y/n and zach were left with a perfect experiment and a half-written lab report. 

zach stuffed his notebook and pencils in his backpack, beginning to make his way out of the classroom when he felt a soft hand grab his arm. he spun around, seeing that the hand that had grabbed him belonged to none other than y/n.

“hey, i never got to ask you that thing earlier,” she started, and zach’s pulse began to pick up.

“oh yeah, what was it?” he managed to choke out, sounding at least semi-cool while doing so.

“so i’m throwing this party at my house tomorrow,” she bit her lip, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “and i was wondering if you wanted to come?” zach’s heart stopped.

holy fucking shit. y/n y/l/n just invited me to one of her parties.

y/n’s face faultered at his pause. “i know parties really aren’t your thing but i just thought it’d be fun if you could come but you don’t have to if you don’t want to i-” she began to ramble, her face turning a shade of crimson.

“n-no! i-” he cleared his throat. “i’d love to go.” y/n’s face lit up at his response. a wide smile spread across her gorgeous features, setting zach’s stomach into a flurry of butterflies.

“cool! i’ll text you the address-” she paused. “wait, i don’t have your number.” she pulled her iphone out of her back pocket. “put your number in.”

zach gingerly took her phone, shakily typing in his number into a new contact. he handed her back the phone, and she happily saved his contact with the name ‘zach :)’.

“i’ll text you tonight! see you tomorrow zach.” with a smile and a wave, y/n began to walk out of the room, leaving zach stuck in his tracks. “oh!” she turned back around. “bring corbyn too, my friend christina thinks he’s cute and i think it’d be fun to have him there.” with a final grin she walked out of the room, zach left practically starstruck.

i was just invited to a party by y/n.

his heart raced at the realization, and a grin spread across his face so wide it hurt. zach nearly whooped out loud, and he pumped his fist in the air.

he practically sprinted out of school, taking a quick look to make sure no one was around before leaping over the front gate to the school, doing a front flip before landing. 

he could barely contain his excitement, running to his special alleyway and beginning to change out of his school clothes to his spiderman suit. 

he stumbled over his feet a few times, accidentally hitting his funny bone on the dumpster. zach let out a short yelp, his feet tangling together. he nearly fell over, but managed to stay on his feet. 

he slipped his feet into the legs of the suit, pulling the fabric over his boxers and bare torso. he quickly slid his arms into their respective places, pulling the suit until it loosely covered everything but his head.

zach pressed onto the spider icon on the chest of his suit, and the fabric immediately shrunk to perfectly fit his body.

it’s go time.

zach quickly tossed his backpack into the air, webbing it to stick to a brick wall in the alley. with a final jump into the air, zach pulled on his mask and began to swing through the air.

time to be a friendly neighborhood spiderman.

||

“and some nice old lady bought me a churro!” zach said, taking another bite of said churro. he was on his daily phone call with happy hogan, who was mr, stark’s right hand man. 

zach was currently sitting on the fire escape of his apartment building, still clad in his spiderman suit. his mask was off of course, so he could eat the churro without the fabric getting in the way.

zach always called happy every day to update him on what he had done that day, from stopping bike robberies to helping cats out of trees. he thought that maybe, there was the smallest possibility that happy would see what good he was doing, and call him for a mission.

of course, that was a very, very slim chance.

“anyway, i hope you listen to these, because if you didn’t it’d be a waste of time,” zach paused. “well, if there are any missions you need me on, i’ll be there in a millisecond. have a nice day happy.” and with that zach ended the message, staring at his phone as he finished his churro.

he dusted off his hands, balling up the wrapper to his churro and tossing it off the balcony, the wax paper landing a couple streets away. zach shrugged and began to climb down the fire escape to his bedroom window, trying as silently as possible to open up the window.

he managed to open to window, climbing in and carefully shutting it. he crawled onto the wall, making his way across the ceiling to where his bedroom door was, the door wide open. zach skillfully closed the door, sighing in relief as he heard it click shut.

he began to crawl over to his bed, when he heard the sound of an xbox controller hit the floor. zach’s heart stopped, and he slowly looked over to meet the wide, azure eyes of corbyn.

zach immediately fell off the ceiling, landing on his feet.

“y-you’re spiderman,” corbyn stuttered, not even caring that his fortnite character had just been killed. “you’re that superhero on youtube,” corbyn’s brain could barely comprehend the fact that his clumsy, goofy, awkward bestfriend was motherfucking spiderman.

“n-no i’m not!” zach said, hitting the spider icon on his chest. his suit loosened, falling off of his body as he quickly kicked it off. “i’m not spiderman!”

“you were on the ceiling,” corbyn exclaimed, his eyes widening even more. “the fucking ceiling! you’re fucking spiderman!”

zach sighed, deciding to accept the fact that corbyn now knew his biggest secret. he stayed silent, allowing his best friend to soak in the new information.

“my best friend is a superhero,” corbyn breathed out, plopping himself down on zach’s bed. “a superhero.” his eyes widened again. “wait, how did this even happen?”

zach let out a breathe, walking over to his dresser and pulling out a random t-shirt. he pulled the fabric on, also taking out a pair of joggers and putting them on. he then walked back over to where corbyn was sitting and flopped down next to him.

“i guess it all started with this spider...”

||

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