#and the school teacher got MAD. Like. they fucking took those books from the kids and out them in the fucking school library. why?

[narratorstragedy]

12, 13, 29, 33 and 34 for the language asks!

i'm putting these under a read more because wow did this get out of hand. thank you for the questions wren :-)

12. already answered!

13. What do you think about language learning/teaching at school in your country?

i think it sucks! lmao. (in terms of pre-university teaching, bc i think in college it really just depends on the professor.) i can only speak to the public school system in my state but the problem is that unless you are personally motivated you can get an A with mindless memorization & filling out worksheets & never really being able to speak a language. i know people who took 3 years of spanish in high school but because they simply did not care about it their speaking skills are, like, the level of my basque speaking skills (which are essentially nonexistent). also we start way too late in the us (language learning is mandatory only in high school and i never had the opportunity to take a language in school before then), a lot of schools only offer one or two languages so kids can't learn the ones they're actually interested in, & it's just... whatever. ugh! i've been mad about this for years i just feel so dead inside when i think about it.. usamerican public school system moments. i had a great teacher for 2 years of high school & i'm sure there are a lot of great teachers out there in the public school system but it's just sad.

i think it's really different in private schools bc a lot of people at my university were like oh yeah i took mandarin for four years in high school, or korean, or italian, or french and i was like Oh... so we come from two different worlds huh (my school only had spanish and so everyone was forced to study it for 2 years at minimum.)

29. What do you like learning the most? (vocabulary, grammar, writing skills, oral skills… Whatever you can think of!)

i guess vocabulary bc i like fun little words :) and then when i see them or hear them again it's like oh! my friend! but i also kind of like learning about grammatical structures, or at least i have been lately? the other day i watched like 5 youtube videos trying to understand morphosyntactic alignment. So

33. What achievement(s) are you the most proud of?

uhhhh hm i recently read a book in italian which was exciting! also this is kind of lame but the fact that i can basically read anything (literary) in spanish if i want to. of course it's harder than reading in english and if you put a medical text in front of me i'd be like what the fuck but. yeah. one of my favorite parts of learning languages is getting to learn about the literature & history of that language so :)

34. What do you think is the best for learning? Websites and apps or books and notebooks and stuff?

my favorite thing to do is literally just listen to music or watch or read things in a language (once i'm at an intermediate level) to the point where i barely ever watch or listen to anything in english anymore. this is not really a studying strategy because to be honest i've never been one of those #langblr language learners... i just do whatever i want and then take some classes and have fun with it and make a lot of decisions based on vibes. this is because i have not had to learn a language from scratch (ie i don't understand a word of it) since i was a child and i remember nothing of what i did except that i did rosetta stone for months and then when i got to spain i could not communicate at all and came home from my first day of school crying because i had no clue what was happening. so like... i guess what i'm saying is at a certain point just i consume media and try to communicate with people in whatever language i'm learning bc why not. but that doesn't help for beginning language learning bc. you have to actually know some words and grammar lmfaoooo.

i am really a terrible language learner, i just happen to love it. in terms of spanish websites i am in a love-hate relationship with la RAE. my favorite way to distract myself in class is to go dle.rae.es and select the random word function and see if i know any of them, or to put in words and see the expressions that are linked to them. i also have insane, only vaguely organized bookmark folders like this.

[skylardoesthings]

I love how the schools im in only care about their reputation.

[jayteacups]

Aot men as British lads. Go!

JJ hi! I have been thinking about this... mostly thinking of them from a secondary school standpoint since that's just funnier lol

AOT men but make them Brits

Eren - the one that constantly calls everyone a wanker because he thinks it makes him look cool. also calls people Tory shaggers as an insult. strong cockney accent. Made GCSE memes and A-level memes with Connie and Jean. did that thing where he took a pritt stick lid, then lathered his thumb and forefinger tips with glue, and then stretched them out and covered the glue lid with the stringy glue. this was HUGE back when i was in year 6 but i'm pretty sure that's not a brit-specific thing lmao. when the corridors get particularly crowded he shoves people aside. ran for school council every year and never gets voted except for one, and that's himself. takes PE lessons way too seriously. starts getting mad and loud when his dodgeball team is losing lmao

Levi - the tea snob. also uses every swearword in the book and then some. back in his school days he threw a hissy fit when they forced the kids in PE to wear those stinky bibs that hadn't been washed for years. straight up walked out of the PE classroom. made a huge fuss. since then his school made an effort to wash the bibs every week but that's wasn't good enough for him so he just straight-up refused to even touch one. Hates Love Island with a passion. Anyone mentions it to him and he's walking away mid conversation. I can see him as a PE teacher tho and he's always keeping the bibs and other equipment squeaky clean and makes everyone do the 13-minute Cooper run at the beginning of each year, the run that everyone dreads. he saves the bleep test to the last day of Christmas, but the classes protest and he lets them play a few rounds of dodgeball instead.

Erwin - speaks with Received Pronunciation (RP). teaches ethics/PSHE/politics/law a-level. something along those lines. always has something to say about the weather. everyone thinks he's a Tory until he opens his mouth and starts slandering the government. Avid Strictly Come Dancing and Doctor Who watcher. likes football (soccer), tries to watch as many games as he possibly can on TV. but he's a huge Wimbledon fan above all else lmao he tries to book tickets every season. As a student he was head boy, school council every year, was that one super annoying prefect that actually told people in the corridors to tuck in their shirts.

Floch - an actual Tory (/hj). argues with the teacher for no goddamn reason. sometimes forges his parent's signature for the diary checks because he sometimes forgets to get it signed. got real good at it. shoves all the year sevens/eights/nines in the corridors aside because they're infuriating and keep blocking the corridors and this is the one time that i will agree with floch lmao those little gremlins do not understand the concept of fucking walking instead of making a crowd to inconvenience the whole school in between lessons. Signed up to the army instead of going to university. He's been planning to do that since before he did his GCSEs lol

Armin - did the 11+ and passed with flying colours, so he got to go to a fancy grammar school. corrects the teachers but he's polite about it. if he was in a comprehensive state school the substitute teachers would just give up and just have him teach the class instead. has a flawless school record, takes like fifteen gcses, six a-levels plus the epq, is never caught in a fight, never had a single detention, blazer's always on in the corridors and his shirt's always tucked in. got head boy of his school, was school council rep for basically the entire time he's been in school. gets offers from all five of his uni choices (if you apply through UCAS you can only apply to five) - one of which is Oxford for politics or something idk. He's just that one student that's always on top of things and it's infuriating lmfaooo

Jean - the guy who gets a fuckboi perm and thinks he looks sexy. has also ended up in a fist-fight against eren at school, and the resulting fight ended up with a bunch of broken noses - both him, eren, and the three teachers that tried to step in. Made GCSE memes and A-level memes with Connie and Eren. Watches Love Island and proclaims he's hotter than all the guys in the island. Has tried to skip assembly before because it's pointless. runs against eren for school council and doesn't get voted because his speech was actually good but because everyone was like 'no we do not need to give eren a power trip' somehow becomes prefect despite how much trouble he's gotten into.

Connie - the one that keeps asking substitute teachers about their personal life, never had his diary signed in primary school, always had his shirt untucked and tie missing too because he hates it. wore his tie around his head in protest (and because he felt like it). has been sent out of the classroom multiple times. always giggles in fire drills. (after seeing Jean's perm he's more than glad he's got his buzzcut lol). Made GCSE memes and A-level memes with Jean and Eren. Also runs a british meme page. don't know why but I feel like he has a Geordie accent?? he didn't do the thing with the glue like eren did because he was too busy huffing the glue. but despite all this he passed all his GCSEs he didn't have to resit any of them whoop. ran for school council as a joke in year eleven and everyone thought it would be funny to vote him in so he spent a whole year attempting to be responsible but it didn't really work out lmao (but nobody's mad that connie wasn't great at the job because school council never does anything anyway). is that one guy that is actually really good at PE but isn't annoying about it or competitive like Eren or Jean - he and Reiner team up and take them out in dodgeball when they're stood in the middle of their section arguing over who got to a particular ball first

Porco - the guy that always smells like Axe body spray. avid devour of Connie's memes. always lurks on twitter and slags off every politician ever. loves Football. They all do but he's absolutely obsessed. Always tweets football's coming home and it never comes home.

Reiner - the sporty kid who's always nominated captain of the team in mandatory PE lessons. everyone prays that they'll be on his team in rugby because nobody wants to be tackled by him, let alone get slammed into the wet sopping mud because the football/rugby boots do jackshit to stop you from slipping.

Bertholdt - the guy who never speaks in class. content to stay perfectly average. except for PE he's forced into actually having to put effort into basketball games because of his height. and also because Levi's the PE teacher he's too scared to slack anyway. so he's half-decent at PE.

Zeke - went to a top 10 university because Grisha would not accept anything less and has a superiority complex. was forced to do a bunch of extracurriculars and run for school council / head boy by Grisha. managed to get head boy at his school. Londoner but not Cockney accent.

Niccolo - watches Masterchef: The Professionals and swears up and down he could beat Marcus Wareing in a competition like that. slags off the competitors too. didn't really do an awful lot to stand out in school though. (I like to think he ended up on Masterchef lmao)

any fellow brits pls add to this my loves

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.2

Getting back to your little one story cottage, you can only manage to rush in and run about in a mad dash as you try to accomplish getting ready for work and getting something to eat. Running through choices in your head as you change and freshen up, nothing sounds good. There's not much time since your shift starts at nine and to make it to the store you need to leave by eight twenty. You got home at eight fifteen, and while Nate, your manager, has never seemed to give a fuck what you did at work you're still in your probationary period and would like to keep the easiest job you've ever had.

It's a really simple gig, seeing as the store you work at is actually a front for some illegal activity. The variety of crime you aren't sure of, but you are aware there's no way you guys do no business and yet they can afford to pay thirty dollars an hour. Thankfully just keeping your mouth shut and being nice to little Jo, the owner's daughter, is enough to keep you in the cushiest job in the world. The store's front is a regular old book store, all the books are real, the registers work, you're able to sell books and you've run to the bank to do the weekly deposits twice for Book & Nook. The front is very legitimate or it would be if the amount of customers ever equaled the sales made.

Again you don't ask questions, because for thirty dollars an hour you get to goof off for a couple hours a day, plus you get a bonus when you watch little Jo at the shop. She's a real sweet eleven year old, she's got tourettes and took a shine to you the first time she saw you tic. While you both might not suffer the same disorder she finds the common ground nice, like it's not just her. It's not even hard to watch her or enjoy her company, she'll come bouncing in with her excited chittering and hands clapping spilling all the latest gossip that comes with being in middle school. And boy is there a lot of gossip.

It's really nice seeing that Jo has friends at school and is even considered a “popular” kid. You remember how tough school was because no one understood you and teachers never cared enough about your personality to bring up the fact that it was clear to most faculty members that you had Autism. You excelled academically so what did it matter if you got picked on for oversharing information or for finishing assignments the minute they were handed to you. As bittersweet as the parallels are you're so glad Jo doesn't have to go through that. Never would have thought a southern school could be so accepting, much less a middle school at that.

Tearing through the kitchen you honestly can't find anything that you want to eat right now. And even after a long night of hiking/dissociating you don't think you're that peckish at all. Figuring it's best to at least take something to quell any future nausea you grab a Pedialyte Pop from the freezer. As fast as you entered your home you left, and not before ensuring twice that the door was locked and secured. While living on the outskirts of town saves you from many potential robberies, and worse salesmen, there's still the chance of some lunatic with an ax hiding out in a closet to murder you. Better safe now than sorry later.

Pulling into park behind the shop right at nine is a blessing. You run into the shop to clock in blurting out a quick 'Morning' to Nate, who was carrying a particularly large box, as you passed by him. In a flash you were back at your car retrieving your newly prized deer skull. Lungs burning a bit from the all out sprint you just did you took a little extra time to close the trunk and lock your car up to catch your breath, and avoid any light headiness you might get from the empty stomach workout. Eager to share the wonders of death with your best work friends, and by that you mean Nate your manager...and only other coworker, you rush back into the building.

The shop was quiet as usual as you made your way through the door though you were in the back room where only employees could roam you had the slightest suspicion that the front of shop was just the same. It's there you find Nate, now lugging a medium sized box around to a side table. He did this a lot you suspect some type of smuggling but hey plausible deniability and all those legal matters. The taller dark haired man sees you and just as he's about to wave you over, notices your prize with a raised brow.

“The fuck d'you bring in the store?” he doesn't seem amused by whatever it is he thinks you're up to. “Deer skull.” Lifting it up in one hand and pointing at it, “Found this guy on my hike last night...or rather this morning actually.”

“YN, we talked about this, you said you'd get some sleep last night. No adventures remember.” he's only two years older than you and yet he acts as if he's ten years. He must be an old soul, or enjoys the role of care giver...or you're making him go gray prematurely, anything's possible.

“Eh, I remember saying I'd 'try' and get sleep.” for someone who's body is running on fumes your cheekiness is astronomical, “operative word being 'try', remember.”

It's a long silence as Nate decides if he wants to deal with your bullshit at this moment. After a minute or so he concedes leaning back on the table behind him. “Let's hear it.” and you perk up immediately.

“Cool, so I was walking along the tree line and spotted him, tried to find more but seems there's only one piece. Judging by the size of his antlers I'd say he was nearly fully grown. Now my plan is to do whatever treatments taxidermists do to bones and,” you continue to word vomit at the tired twenty-six year old in front of you, about the joys and wonders of taxidermy and the likely hood of ever finding a skull so nicely preserved.

“I can do that in here right?” even though it's been phrased as a question, you aren't asking permission, you're just being polite and letting Nate know the storage room will house your creepy deer skull antics for today...maybe the week you need to find a taxidermist book to figure out what you need to do.

Nate gives up and leaves with his box of new books to let you have full run of the back to do your weird vulture culture shit. He figures he's just too old to understand the new obsessions with the macabre. He hopes his cousin won't take to shit like this, the kid's weird enough as it is, no need to put another target on her back. Nate sets off to take down the Harry Potter sets in favor of this new comic series little Jo wanted.

Already taking his silence as the go ahead you place your found skull on the table and rush off into the store front to find a book on taxidermy and hopefully more specifically about bones. The set up and organization of the store reminds you a lot of the scene in Brendan Fraser's The Mummy 1997 where Evie is on the ladder and somehow causes all the book shelves to fall like dominoes. So unsafe, yet all book stores and libraries seem to have this set up. With the tall shelves it makes it difficult to accurately get a read on the spines. You don't even know what section taxidermy actually falls under, education maybe?

“Nate, where do you think a book on taxidermy would be?” you called out as you passed by him.

“...hobby?” that didn't sound right but you'd give it a shot anyway.

This should be fun, the hobby section was so disorganized and it took up nearly half the store too, Book & Nook had everything from fishing, to crochet, cooking, the art of film making, hell even had a cryptid hunting book a book that you may have to look into a bit later. You closed your eyes and let your intuition guide you, when you looked up you saw a thin black...vine, no whisp? It undulates in less than rhythmic movements nearly like a snake but it has no head, and not unlike a tentacle but without suckers. It's another hallucination so you were keen to ignore it until it stretched past your head, giving you an added auditory hallucination where you swore you could hear wind rushing past your ears, it swirled around you until it flew to the shelf and tapped on a book. Cautiously you walked over to it, it's never good to play into these delusions. Once you got close enough the black shape was gone but on the shelf was a creme colored paper back titled “Manual of Taxidermy: Complete Guide of Preserving Birds and Mammals.”

Walking to Nate with the book in your hands you asked him to read it and make sure you weren't having an episode and making everything up right now. You'd have to try harder to go to sleep tonight if that were the case.

“Oh you found your book huh?” he said looking down at the title.

Well this is getting weird fast, but you nod nonetheless. Might as well thank the weird hallucination gift right. Leaving him to do whatever it is he plans on doing the rest of the day, you go to the back. And just as the book instructs you set to cleaning the skull by setting it in some water and changing it as many times as the water runs murky. The book is quiet helpful to a beginner like yourself but it does seem a bit outdated from the bits of information you know from taxidermists blogs and vulture culture posts on the internet. Reading it in between water changes is a great way to pass the time though, not like you guys get any real customers anyways.

The bell rings as the front door opens and closes alerting you to someone's arrival on your third water change. Needing a little bit of mental stimulation you walk out into the front where Big Jo and Little Jo are talking to Nate. Little Jo sees you and skitters away from her father to rush you, she stops about a foot away and holds her arms wide open. She's a hugger but upon meeting you had never even thought people could be touch adverse so keeping in mind that you might not want to be touched she's learned to invite you into hugs and it's your choice to allow it or not. Placing a hand on your bicep you give a squeeze, checking your tolerance you find the thought bearable. Placing your arms outstretched at your sides Jo rushes your torso for her hug.

After she nearly body slammed you into the wall, and  let her death grip go she was off on a tangent about so many things. Her excited rapid blinking tic, one she developed after meeting you, triggering your own.

“Ok so you remember how last week I told you that Jessie Kinsleton said that Micheal Saleisa told Gigi B, not Gigi S. that Meghan,” you had no clue the lives of eleven year olds had gotten so complex, from the gossip you heard from Jo it seemed that the school's sixth graders were plotting for a war with an ice cream parlor up the street. No clue why, maybe just to fuck the system, kids are weird, preteens are weirder...and angry.

But you nod to Jo listening to her every word, and trying to calm your eyelids so you could actually open your eyes. After being told the sequence of events that would happen in the Tween Armageddon, something to do with Marco Salvator ordering three dozen donuts and a flock of geese, your eyes finally gained their ability to see back. Black whisps, much like the one from earlier, wandered all around your vision, it looked like a  dark smoke had settled eye level within the shop and was snaking through the isles.

Catching the movement of your eyes Jo looked around the shop too. Seeing nothing she turned back to you concerned, “Hey it's okay, nothin's there.”

Hearing the drop in volume of the normally chatty tween, Big Jo and Nate pause their conversation to turn their attention to you and follow you're gaze.

“Kid, you ain't sleepin' again?” Big Jo can already gauge by the bags under your eyes but he's a polite man so he feels the need to ask rather than state his assumptions.

“Day 6.” You answer simply, ever since you've started at Book & Nook the whole Cowell family became acutely aware of many of your disorders. By their record your longest time spent awake was ten days, you however adamantly say that you were an hour's mark away from ten full days so the longest you've been up is nine days in a row. And those are just the cases they know of since you've moved to Kepler.

Big Jo shook his head as a stern father would, which he is, “I have half the mind to send you home to rest.”

“That won't work.” you really don't mean to sound so coarse but it's so irritating having to go over this at least once a week.

“What about those gummy things Dia got you?”

“Long term that kind of stuff has no effect, sure it'll make me drowsie for an hour or two but even if it made me sleep one night I can't use it all the time. And before you ask the same questions again, caffeine has no real effect on me so limiting my intake will do nothing and weed doesn't do a thing for me either.” you state plainly, monotone as you present facts that everyone in the room already knows.

Looking at the stern face of Big Jo's and the exasperated face of Nate you continue, “I know it must be frustrating for you to not be able to help, but I'm content living like this. I like my late night adventures and when I do sleep it's really pleasant.”you threw in a smile for added comfort.

“Kid tha's not the point, there's somethin' wrong with you, medically I mean.” he's pinching the bridge of his nose, probably counting to ten to calm himself from raising his voice.

“Tons of people suffer from insomnia and there isn't anything a doctor could do for me except look for underlying conditions.” Big Jo's about to retort when you continue with, “Plus my dad and uncle both have insomnia as well so my case is due to the genetic lottery I lost.” You say with a hint of finality of your situation, you had to come to terms with this condition all the way back in high school. Having a decade to get used to your strange condition and the limitations it places on you from time to time. Whereas the Cowell family's only had two months to process this information, and you understand it'll take awhile before they stop being concerned. Same thing happened with you parents and friends back then too.

For now you're only met with more head shakes as if they were saying 'what are we going to do with you'. Leaving your medical issues aside Nate and Big Jo continue to talk shop, when the set up Nate just put on display catches Jo's eye.

Like lightening the tween was away from your side and by the new display shelf it looked like it held graphic novels. That's a first since you've been here, you walk over to join Jo knowing the second you do she'll start on about what's got her so excited. Most people might say you over indulge the child and coddle her but you actually just think it's really important to take interest in what makes kids happy. It helps them find their voices and also shows them that it's normal to get excited and like things.

“We got the TAZ graphic novels in?!” you hate rhetorical questions but smile and nod at her anyway.

“Have you read them? No, well you've listen to the podcast...what omg! Ok so there's these three brothers and their,” Jo begins regaling you with tales from the podcast known as The Adventure Zone and how fun they've made dungeons and dragons seem with their amazing story telling and funny characters.

You aren't sure if a show where the main group of heroes being called Tres Horny Bois is exactly age appropriate but when you look to Big Jo he kind of just shrugs it off. Turning you attention back to Jo who's now monologing about mongooses you just smile at the weird family you've found yourself in.

Let it be said that a tween with a slightly unhealthy fixation on something can find anyway to drag it back to that fixation. The day flew by with Jo explain the inner workings of dungeons and dragons, fifth edition, to you, her father, and her cousin after you mentioned why she didn't play. Apparently she'd love to but wanted a story fitting for her friend's to adventure. So being the good older cousin, father, and weird family friend you all were you came up with a story plot for her to use with her campaign.

The Jos had a lot of fun bonding over this little workshop and you guys even had food delivered so you and Nate could stay later. What was meant to just be a quick workshop turned into a mini family game night after you made several nearly impossible puzzles that wouldn't be used in Jo's campaign due to no one at the current table understanding how to solve it even after you showed them several times.

Overall it was fun and you think you might actually be tired enough to go to sleep tonight. You tried to stay and help clean up but Big Jo put his foot down and told you to go get some rest, he'd seen the way you occasionally look around the room as if something was moving behind them all. You may have started off as a cashier two months ago for him but his daughter has opened up a lot since meeting you and discovering that tics aren't so uncommon and there are people who wouldn't care or make a big deal out of them. Because of that you've earned your keep in his family, he already has you down on the list for Christmas cards.

Knowing you can't fight the six foot four man you roll your eyes and bid everyone good night, little Jo coming in to steal another hug from you and thank you for helping with her game. Checking on your skull you see the water's clear and dump it in the sink of the break room before leaving the skull to dry overnight, it's for sure gonna make Nate scream tomorrow, you can't help but chuckle at that.

Leaving through the back door and into the dusk colored parking lot you notice your trunk is popped open slightly. You definitely heard it shut earlier this morning. You blink before your head jerks to the right, unsettled by possibility of a break in and not risking it you head back inside.

“Hey, I think my car may have been broken into.” you stand awkwardly in the door way unsure of how to proceed.

Big Jo and Nate are out of the door as fast as they can. They find your car unlocked with the trunk popped, you know they weren't trying to brush you off when they asked several times if you did in fact lock your car this morning. After hearing your affirmative response each time, they began to inspect your car checking to make sure all wires are properly secured under the hood, Nate even retrieved the jack out of his own car to take a look under the car, ensuring the brakes hadn't been messed with. They started the car up just fine and it didn't appear tampered with. Even though nothing looked out of place and Nate's car, sitting in the same parking lot, hadn't been touched you appreciated them checking to make sure you were alright.

Knowing you're perceived as a woman by most, even outside of this small town, makes you uneasy when it comes to terms of abductions and violence. You know the chances and hear the stories whether it's from the victim's mouth or a podcaster's telling the story the dead can't. Nate offered to follow you home and make sure you were ok but you declined and said you'd call them both when you got home. Big Jo said to just call his home phone because Nate would be coming over tonight anyway, and if they didn't make it there before you called Dia was already at home and would pass the message along. You'll probably still try and give the shop a call if Dia answers, it wouldn't sit right with you if you wound everyone up just to not and at least try to settle their nerves.

With one final check of you car, the men even going so far as to lift seats up and feel under them, they sent you off. You drove carefully on the road tonight, ready to pull off into the shoulder at the slightest hint that something was wrong. Not even the radio was on something that you really didn't like driving without, but if there was the chance for you to catch a shift in tone of the machine you wanted to. Eventually you did end up making it home in one piece and you had called the Cowell family home, from the safety of your car, and got a spazztic eleven year old asking if you'd made it home alright. It took a little bit of coaxing but Little Jo calmed down and shouted to her parents that you were on the phone and alright.

“Kid,” looks like Big Jo took the phone away from Little Jo, “Everything ok on the drive.” Big Jo could hear the movement and shutting of your car door, he'd have to say he was relieved you waited until you were on the phone before exiting. He knew you lived out past the quiet zone in Old Lydia's house. A fact that did little for the unease he felt when he thought you were being watched.

“Oh, yea drive was fine, too quiet but fine.” you said simply as you began circling the cottage. Nothing seemed out of place on the outside, even looking above eye level where people tended to get sloppy in stalking or home invasion cases, everything seemed fine.

“Hope you don't mind if I keep you for a bit.” You had just unlocked your door and stepped in.

“Nah, kid 's fine.” you give a hum of acknowledgment as you look through the kitchen in cabinets, under cupboards, and even under the table.

“You're a smart kid.” he's taken that fatherly overtone that makes you roll your eyes. You understand the sentiment of parents and parental figures having pride in their child or ward but it's always been so weird to you when they feel the need to bring it up. Especially when they bring it up in situations that are dangerous, like can you not make it sound like someone's about to die.

Finding nothing in the living room, hall closet or bathroom you make sure all the windows are locked and dowels are in place to keep them from opening. And you double check that both the back and front doors are secured. You can hear the hushed whispers on the other end of the line, Dia must have just found out about your car, as you rustle through your kitchen utensil drawers taking out two forks before you make your way to your bedroom.

Once in your room you checked your closet and under your bed. Finding nothing you  went to the window in your room, the one right by your bed, you checked the lock, secured it in place with two dowels, and then covered it throwing a thick blanket over the curtain rod to ensure no one would be viewing you in your sleep or the precautions you were about to do. Turing around and locking your bedroom door you then jam one fork into the closed door crease, right below the locking mechanism, and jammed the other fork perpendicular through the prongs. You attempted to open the door with all your weight but only could get an inch in before the forks would stop more movement.

“Kid you alright over there?” it's rushed, he probably heard the commotion with your make shift lock.

“Yea, just had to add another lock to the door.” you trust the Cowell's but you understand how stupid it'd be to let them know exactly how you were defending yourself. Even if it wasn't them there's no telling if the person who broke into your car was outside and just good at hiding. You could also be too jumpy from your true crime shows but you figure it's better to be safe.

“I think everything's good Big Jo.” taking a final glance around your room eye's landing on the bed, “Think I'm even ready to go to sleep tonight too.” a small half laugh leaves your mouth.

“Alright kid, you call if you need anything got it.” it's an order not a request.

“Got it, good night.” Big Jo might think that'd been rude coming from anyone else but from you he can only roll his eyes at the brevity and the dial tone he's met with. He has his own sweep to do, if they were targeting his employee there was a reason. He hasn't had any problems since coming to Kepler but someone always eventually comes along who can't take a hint.

Even combing through your home with Big Jo on the line you didn't feel safe having your bed by the window anymore and moved it away and in front of the closet door. You'd rearrange your room later but for tonight this would have to do. By some grace of god you were actually able to shut your brain down tonight and rest. Maybe it was the excitement and merriment from hanging out with the Cowells or more likely the situation you find yourself in of perhaps being a target for something insidious.

Whatever the case may be you are off to the land of dreams before you know it. And unbeknownst to you the same eyes from this morning watch your home. They may not have seen what you did in there but they'd be sure to catch you when you come out. They'll wait all night to catch you if they have to.

[mandareeboo]

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”.  I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult. 

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.) 

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations. 

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A. 

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

 Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

[miamlfy]

Gryffindor Scum

A/N: WOOH PART THREE IS FINALLY OUT! There was so many ways I could have written this part and I actually rewrote it a few times. This part is more centered on Draco rather than the reader but I guess this series is mostly on Draco. Feel free to give me feedback/ideas!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Draco has an unwelcoming experience with Blaise and Pansy. 

Warnings: Implied depression, Pansy, and a few swear words. Perhaps spelling/grammar mistakes as well. 

Word Count: 1,9k

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Enjoy!

(Not my gif, credit to whoever made it)

Draco laid wide awake on his bed, staring onto the ceiling. He spent hours tossing and turning, just wanting to fall asleep just like everyone else in the house, however, his body refused to shut down. Draco continued to glance down to Harry’s muggle alarm clock he had on his nightstand, 3:46am it read. He let out a sigh, your mum wanted everyone up by 6am. So much for a good night’s rest, he thought to himself. 

His stomach was filled with the nervous feeling, his whole life had changed for him during the summer and he knew life at Hogwarts would also change. If someone told his past self that he would be dating a half blood or better yet living amongst Gryffindors, he would’ve laughed in their faces and told them to fuck off. Draco would have never imagined that this would be his life now, not that he hated it. He loved it, every second of it. He loved being in a household which held warmth, love, and security. He loved having parental figures that asked him on the daily if he was okay but most of all, he loved having you at his side. 

You were there for him for anything he needed the minute he stepped foot into your house. At first, Draco was scared your relationship would have declined when he moved in but instead it got stronger and the love was blooming more than ever. They spent many nights together alone, talking about the present and the future. 

“If I become a professional Quidditch player and you a healer, you can help with any injuring I get.” You said while picking on the grass you were laying on. 

Draco chuckled besides you, “I’ll also be on the stands cheering you on and being the loudest there.” 

Those moments the two of you had are what kept Draco going. You were his world and his yours. He got so used to spending each day with you that he wasn’t sure if he’ll be the same spending less amounts together at school. Now, Draco wasn’t much of the clingy type but after living in the same house for almost three months only to go back to school and being separated by house rivalry but going to take its toll. 

Draco scoffed to himself, whoever created such things and made him believe them were children, he thought. House rivalry was nonsense. Draco looked over to the clock once again, not much time has passed since he last checked it. He rolled onto his side and decided to at least get some sleep to avoid being an awful mood the in the morning. 

Draco was woken up by the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. He looked over to Harry’s bed to see it empty and unmade, no doubt already waiting for the delicious delights Lily was cooking.

Draco was still getting used to seeing a human cook rather than house elves. Lily wasn’t the only person who cooked in the Potter household, he also learned that you, along with Harry were taught some things. James, however, was often kicked out of the kitchen after his many, many, failed attempts on cooking. 

He got up from his bed and quickly made it along with Harry’s. Although your twin brother was fully capable of making his own bed, Draco hated a messy room and often opted into making your brothers bed. Heading downstairs, he saw your luggage packed and ready to go by the front door. Lily made the three you do it the night prior. 

“Ah, he’s up.” He heard you say, you stood on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his cheek. You always complained about your shortness to him, and how it wasn’t fair the Harry got the tall gene. 

“Come sit down, there’s pancakes, eggs, and bacon on the table already. Help yourself.” You said to him. 

Draco nodded and took an empty seat next to James. He began adding foods onto his plate, before he could start eating, James began speaking to him loud enough for him to only hear. 

“Draco as you know, the trial between your parents and us is still happening.” Draco nodded as James spoke. 

The trial was taking longer than expected and although it was unrealistic to think it would end with an agreement immediately, Draco wish it was over. Both parties refused to step down. Not that Draco wanted your parents to give up, he knew they wouldn’t. He just wished his own parents would come to terms that Draco wasn’t returning to them and to drop whatever they doing to claim themselves as the best wizarding parents out there. 

Well, he just wished his father would stop. He knew his mother couldn’t do much, she was just there to be a wife of a pureblood and a mother to heirs. Draco knew she tried to be there for him but the way she was raised proved that the only way she could try to show her love for her son was to buy him things and spoil him with anything and everything he asked for. 

Narcissa still sent him letters once a week, whether it was sending him money, treats, or asking a simple ‘How are you doing?’. 

Draco stared at James and nodded his head allowing James to continue. 

“Word has gotten out and it’ll most likely be in the papers soon which means people will say things to you. Don’t let them get to you and force you to pick a side, in the end it’s you who decides.” 

Draco already had a side picked but he knew Mr. Potter was right. His ‘friends’ will no doubt try to make him change his mind about everything and force him back into being the self-centered prick he was. 

Once everyone finished the very delicious breakfast and got into the muggle car Lily owned, with complaints from you for having to sit in the middle seat, the five of you headed towards the train station. 

“Harry move your bloody elbow!” You yelled out to your brother. “It’s stabbing me in the side!” 

“Maybe it’s you who should move, my elbow is fine where it is!” 

Draco slightly laughed at the interaction, leave it to the two of you to cause some sort of chaos in any given situation. He sat back in his seat and looked out the window, watching all the cars drive by. 

His stomach was getting the same feeling it had during the night. He began chewing on his lip, a habit he had of doing whenever he was nervous. Taking notice of this, you took his hand into yours. 

“Are you okay?” You asked looking at him. Concern was written all over your face as he looked at you. Looking at you is what made him more present and calmer. He loved looking at you, you were always so beautiful to him. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” He responded, giving you a genuine smile. You reciprocated the smile and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

Draco let out a yawn, his lack of sleep getting to him. Perhaps he’d be able to nap on the train. 

Arriving at the station, the three of you said goodbye to your parents. Lily was making sure everyone had everything they needed while James looked ready to cry. Regardless of this being the fifth year of doing this, he was never ready to say goodbye to his children. 

Draco noticed some Slytherins giving him weird looks as he stood with the Potters, a few gasps were heard from others when he hugged James and Lily goodbye. He didn’t care though; it was a bit amusing to see some of his peers sporting confused looks. 

“Alright kids be safe and be good, I don’t want to hear about any more pranks on teachers or students,” Lily said, looking directly at you and Harry. “Includes you now, Draco. These three gremlins can be quite the influence.” 

“Three?!” 

“Yes James, three.” 

“Now that’s not fair, Sirius should be in that list too!” James said. Lily shook her head as if her point was proven. 

Draco followed Harry and you onto the train, he saw a few first years still waving goodbye to their parents through the windows. He saw you poke your head out of one as well, he wanted to laugh at the fact that you looked no different than a first year, but he knew it was best not to as he didn’t want to make you mad. 

“Tell Uncle Moony that I say hi!” He heard James yell. You replied with a ‘will do’ and pulled your head back as the train began to move. Draco could’ve sworn he saw James wipe a few tears from his eyes. 

“Are you going to come sit with us? Harry already went with Hermione and Ron to find an empty compartment.” You asked your boyfriend. 

Draco shook his head, “It’s best if I go sit with the others, Granger and Weasley aren’t much used to having me around unlike Harry and you.” 

“Alright well if anything happens, you can come find us.” 

Draco nodded, allowing you to place a kiss on his lips as a short bye. Watching you skip as you went to find the others, Draco went on his way to find the people he calls his friends. 

The compartment in which they were in wasn’t hard to find, upon entering it Draco placed his luggage above and sat down next to Blaise. 

“Strange,” he heard Blaise say. “We didn’t think you’d be joining us.” 

“And why is that?” Draco asked turning his head to look at Blaise. 

Blaise continued to look down at the book he was reading, “It seemed to us that your alliance has changed.” 

Draco scoffed but before he could speak back, Pansy had already taken the stage. 

“You left us Draco.” She said, forcefully making herself sit in-between Draco and Blaise. She placed her arms around Draco’s neck. 

“Come back to us Draco, we know you’re still in there.” She shook him as she spoke, “We know they brainwashed you now come back.” 

Draco threw Pansy’s arms off of him with a bit of force, making her pout. “No one has brainwashed me.” 

“They clearly did, you don’t even want to be with me anymore!” She screeched. Draco rolled his eyes at her delusional self. 

Blaise closed his book and made Pansy go back to her original seat. He looked directly at Draco as he spoke. 

“We don’t want you here anymore, Draco. You made it clear to us that you no longer want to be in this friend group the minute you hugged that mudblood and her blood traitor husband. Not to mention how friendly you’ve gotten with Y/n Potter.” 

Draco felt his body becoming hot with anger as Blaise targeted the slurs towards your parents. 

“Now leave us and perhaps you’d want to change your house tie as well, seeing as you’ve become Gryffindor scum.” Blaise finished. 

Draco angrily stood up, glaring at Blaise as he grabbed his luggage and stormed out slamming the compartment door with such force. He stood there for a few seconds, taking notice that his hands were shaking as he rubbed his eyes with them.

“This is going to be one long fucking year.”

[hotchnisslovechild]

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

Rating: E Fandom: Big Shot Pairing: Marvyn Korn/Holly Barrett Word Count: 7900 Tags: 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Only One Bed, Sharing a Bed, PWP, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Post S1 Summary: Away at a team camp, Holly and Marvyn have to share a hotel room.

AO3 Link or read below!

It was a 2-hour bus ride to Westmont College. Well, for Holly and the girls that is. Marvyn decided to drive to the team camp separately. He loved being with the girls and Holly, but 2 hours on a small bus all together? He would much rather enjoy some “Marvyn Time” and drive by himself. It worked out well that way actually; Holly and Marvyn needed their own car to drive to and from campus back to their hotel nearby. The girls were staying on campus, all paired up in dorms. Staying in dorm rooms was a hard pass for Holly and Marvyn, mostly Marvyn. Holly wouldn’t have minded staying in a room on campus but given the choice between sleeping on a hotel-quality, queen-sized mattress or a dorm-quality, twin-sized mattress, she’d pick hotel every time. Marvyn just flat out refused to sleep in a dorm. He loves hotels. Hell, he tried to live in one until his daughter moved in with him. People change his sheets and make the bed for him. There’s complimentary breakfast. What’s not to love about hotels?

Holly could not wait to get off the bus after those 2 hours. One thing about teenage girls is that they love to gossip. Holly witnesses it every day at school, but none of it really ever pertains to her. These girls usually just chat about boys and other girls, but Holly’s ears always perk up when she occasionally overhears the girls talking about their teachers to one another. It’s fun to hear what they think about her colleagues, but sometimes she fears she’s the subject of gossip amongst these girls when they are anywhere else in the school that isn’t Holly’s classroom.

That fear came true on that bus ride when she overheard the girls whispering at the back of the bus. The subject of those hushed words? Holly and Marvyn. It was a big bus, but not big enough. From the front of the bus, Holly could hear just about every word those girls whispered back and forth to one another in the back.

“Emma told me they go out for drinks and dinner all the time,” Destiny murmured to all of the girls leaning into the bus walkway.

“But isn’t she like his only friend?” Louise joked, getting some giggles from the other girls.

“I’m thinking they are a little more than just friends, if you know what I mean,” Samantha mumbled.

Mouse smacked her knee from the seat across from her. “Sam!” she gasped.

“What?” Samantha asked, “You don’t think those two could be hooking up?”

“I’d prefer not to think about that,” Mouse answered, hating the idea of her coaches doing it with each other.

“Guys, what if they are in the same hotel room for this camp?” Olive suggested, feeding into Samantha’s theory. “Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to stay in the dorms.”

Destiny let out a loud gasp at Olive’s suggestion and proceeded to be slapped and shushed by Louise for being too loud. They would all be dead if Holly could hear their conversation.

They had no clue that Holly could actually hear everything they were saying. And she was mortified. Her and Marvyn? What was it with these girls and starting rumors about who’s she’s dating? First, it was Felix, now it’s Marvyn. Sure, she goes out for drinks and dinner with Marvyn a lot. So what? Friends can go out for fun. Not only are they friends… they are colleagues. It’s always been strictly platonic and professional between them, and Holly plans on keeping it that way.

When they finally arrived at Westmont around 9PM, she helped the girls find their dorms and settle in while she waited for Marvyn to get there. Once he got there, Holly said goodnight to the girls and told them they need to get up for the scheduled team breakfast at 8AM in the main campus dining hall.

Marvyn didn’t even bother getting out of his car to say “hi” to the girls once he got there. He texted Holly telling her to walk out to his car, and to hurry up so they could get settled at the hotel.

Holly didn’t say a word during the 10 minutes it took to get to the hotel. Her face was still hot from overhearing the girls suggest that she and Marvyn were a thing. She could feel Marvyn’s curious gaze on her in the car, but she avoided his glances by staring out the window, thinking about a certain thing the girls unknowingly put into her head. Her stomach tightened as the thought of sleeping with Marvyn consumed her mind for the duration of the drive.

Holly started to second guess everything Marvyn did for her. When they got to the hotel, Marvyn rushed to open the door for Holly and get her suitcase out of the back seat. Is that what friends do? Is he just being nice? Holly asked herself, feeling like she was going a bit mad.

Walking up to the front desk, Marvyn greeted the receptionist. “Hi, I have two rooms booked under Korn.”

Holly watched as the woman behind the front desk punched keys on her keyboard. The receptionist started typing faster than before, almost frantic. Holly had no idea it was that hard to find a room reservation.

“Hmm,” the woman started, “I don’t see a reservation under that name. Could it be under a different name, perhaps?”

“Are you sure? Did you spell it right? It’s K-o-r-n. Korn,” Marvyn said, growing impatient. He just wanted to go to sleep. They had a busy few days coming up with the camp, and he needed to be well-rested if he was going to beat all of the other Southern California basketball teams at the camp.

“I’m afraid I don’t see a reservation for you, Mr. Korn.”

“Marvyn, don’t you have the confirmation in your email? You can pull that up on your phone,” Holly suggested, hating that they were causing the receptionist any trouble.

Marvyn pulled up the email confirmation on his phone and held it up to the clerk. “Here’s our confirmation number and reservation details. We have two queen-sized rooms. Three nights.”

The woman pulled the phone toward her, taking a closer look at the email. “Sir, I think there has been a mistake.”

“How could there be a mistake? The confirmation and details are right there,” he snapped, pointing at his phone. Holly elbowed him for snapping at the poor young woman.

“These reservations are for the Holiday Inn Express in Ventura. You’re at the Holiday Inn Express in Santa Barbara.

Holly looked at Marvyn in disbelief. Ventura was almost a half-hour away. She didn’t want to have to drive all the way there and have to commute 30 minutes to and from Westmont for 4 days.

“Well shit,” Marvyn muttered under his breath. This is why he doesn’t stay at anything less than 5-star hotels. This never would have happened if Holly just let him book two rooms at the Hotel Californian. But no, they were “too expensive and luxurious” for only staying 3 nights and spending most of their time at Westmont.

“Do you have two rooms available here?” Marvyn finally asked the woman.

“We’re pretty booked up. I’ll have to check what rooms we have available for 3 nights.”

“You better have some rooms because—”

Holly elbowed him again, sending him a glare that could kill. She turned to the clerk. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, “We’re sorry to cause so much trouble.”

“Oh, you are no trouble at all. It happens more often than you would think, “ the receptionist said as she typed away on her keyboard. Her face sunk. “I’m sorry but all we have available for three nights is one room. It should have two queen beds, but I’ll have to double check—”

“We’ll take it,” Marvyn interjected. He didn’t want to be standing in that lobby any longer. And he certainly did not want to drive all the way to Ventura.

“Marvyn,” Holly turned to him concerned, “We can’t share a room.”

“Well, you can find a ride to Ventura because I’m sure as hell not driving all the way over there.”

This was exactly what she didn’t need right now. She could hardly look Marvyn in the eye after hearing the girls speculate about them being in a relationship. How could she share a room with him? Everything about this was just mortifying.

She sighed. “Fine. I guess it’s not that big a deal” She took one of the keys the woman set out in front of them.

Holly’s jaw dropped to the floor when Marvyn opened the door for her to walk into the room. She could not believe what she was seeing. Was there seriously only one goddamn bed? Just when she thought this couldn’t get any worse.

“Now you have to be fucking kidding me,” Marvyn said when he finally walked through the doorway, carrying both of their suitcases. “I thought she said it would be two queens.”

“Well, you did cut her off and take the room before she could double check,” Holly retorted, clearly annoyed. She walked further into the room, setting her purse down on the polka dot armchair. The room was fairly big and had a great view of Santa Barbara.

Marvyn followed her into the room, still dragging their luggage along. Holly could still hardly look at him, so she busied herself with looking around the room.

“Did you want the bathroom first?” Marvyn asked coolly, breaking the awkward silence that settled in the room.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I need to wash up after sitting on that old bus for 2 hours. I’ll be quick,” Holly said as she opened up her suitcase to grab her pajamas and toiletry bag. She practically ran to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

She set her bag and pajamas down on the counter and took a deep breath. How does he seem so unfazed by the giant bed-shaped elephant in the room? Holly thought as she stared at herself in the mirror. The fact that the receptionist “gave him the wrong information” seemed to affect him more than the fact that they were sharing a room and possibly sharing a bed. That is, if he doesn’t do the gentlemanly thing and offer to sleep on the floor or the chair. She sure as hell wasn’t sleeping anywhere besides that bed.

Holly was prepared to be in the comfort of her own room, so all she packed for nighttime attire was a pair of skimpy blue sleep shorts and a tank top. That would have been fine had things gone as planned and she had a room to herself, but Marvyn was going to be seeing a lot of leg, a lot more than would be considered appropriate. She shoved the thought out of her mind and got changed.

After she finished up washing her face and brushing her teeth, she knocked on the door. “Are you decent?” she called out from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’re good to come out,” Marvyn responded. Holly took a deep, sobering breath as her hand hovered over the doorknob. She wished she could tell herself it’s just one night, but it’s three nights. He’ll take the chair or the floor, I’m sure, Holly tried to reassure herself.

When she finally mustered the courage to walk out into the main room, she’s stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Marvyn. It took everything in her not to stare at him perched on the edge of the bed dressed in green boxers and a plain white undershirt that hugged his torso. She averted her gaze and quickly crossed her arms in front of her as she walked to her suitcase, a failed attempt to hide her hardening nipples. She wished she could blame it on the cold air in the room, but it’s really just from seeing Marvyn so… undressed. She hated the girls for putting the idea of them together in her mind. Yes, he’s a very attractive man, but she’s never thought about him in any sexual way. Now, it was nearly all she could think about, thanks to the girls. She was in deep shit.

And Marvyn was completely fucked. He hoped she didn’t notice him practically gawking at her when she came out of the bathroom, his eyes caught on the sight of her hardening nipples through her thin tank top. And those shorts. They were sinful is what they were. She was showing off more leg than he could handle. He was used to Holly wearing tight athletic clothing at practices and games. He knew she had a great body. But seeing her so bare made his mind run wild. He watched as she bent forward to put her clothes back into her suitcase. Her shorts were so damn small he could just barely see the black lace panties she was wearing underneath. He tore his eyes away. What the fuck is the matter with me? He scolded himself, thoroughly disturbed by his sudden sexual urges for his friend – his colleague. Now half hard, he finally excused himself to the bathroom.

I’m a man. I can’t help it, he repeated to himself over and over as he stared at his reflection. He couldn’t go back out there like that. The best he could do was will his erection away. There was no way he could discretely “take care” of it with Holly just several feet away.

He brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cold water, trying to distract himself from images of Holly’s legs and the swell of her breasts. As much as he wanted to sleep on that damn bed, getting in bed with her was no longer an option. He would have to offer to sleep on the chair or the floor.

Still half hard, he sucked in a breath before exiting the bathroom. He saw her sitting up on the right side of the bed reading a book. “I’ll sleep on the chair,” he announced.

“Are you sure?” Holly said out of courtesy.

“It’s either that or the floor. Which do you think I should choose?”

 “Whatever will hurt your back less, old man,” Holly joked, the banter coming back to them both easily, temporarily distracting them from the sexual tension that’s built between them in just one night.

“Don’t make me share that bed with you,” he said with a cocky smirk.

“Sleep on the chair. Maybe you will snore less sitting up.”

“I don’t snore,” he countered, slightly offended by her assumption.

“Yeah right. Just sleep on the chair. Keep the snoring to a minimum.” She went back to reading her book. She silently cheered that he offered to let her have the bed to herself. After her inappropriate thoughts about him that night, she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep her hands to herself if he hopped into bed with her.

He grabbed a pillow from the bed and tried to make himself comfortable in the big polka dot chair. “Am I good to turn off the lamp?” Holly asked once it seemed Marvyn got in a comfortable position.

“Yeah,” she heard him grunt as he shifted once more.

Close to 30 minutes went by of more shifting and grunting from the chair on the other side of the room. There was no falling asleep with how noisy he was being. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely uncomfortable or if he was trying to get her to pity him and offer to switch places or let him sleep in the bed with her. “You good over there?” she whispered into the darkness of the room.

“Just fine,” he responded, feigning sincerity. It was probably the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in. It was lumpy and stiff, making noise with every move he made. Not to mention, his cock was still hard, his mind ridden with inappropriate and unprofessional thoughts of Holly

Holly hated what she was about to say next, knew she was probably going to regret it, want to take it back. But she really needed some good sleep tonight, so she went for it. “Just come sleep in the bed, Marvyn. You are driving me nuts with all your moving around.”

“You’re just trying to get in bed with me, aren’t you?” he teased, knowing that would push her buttons.

“Shut up, Marvyn. We’re both adults. We can share a bed without it being weird. Unless you would rather sleep on the floor?”

He didn’t even respond. He got up from the chair, holding his already sore back. God, am I really an old man? He said to himself silently, thinking about Holly’s joke from earlier.

“Just don’t hog the covers,” Holly said as she turned her back to him. She felt the mattress dip beside her, and a twinge of panic rose within her, her heart started to race. She hadn’t shared a bed with a man in a very long time. And it’s been even longer since she’s gotten laid. She shook the thought out of her head. She was absolutely not getting laid tonight. She was in a bed with Marvyn for Christ’s sake. He’s both a friend and a colleague. They couldn’t afford to ruin that. And did she really want to fuck the same man that Ms. Goodwin has? God, no.

Marvyn was wide awake. The twitch of his cock in his boxers was starting to get somewhat painful. He really shouldn’t be this goddamn horny; it had only been a couple months since he and Maggie were having sex. Granted, they only did so a few times. It took a lot longer than he expected to get past 2nd base with her. Something about “wanting to take it slow” and “doing it right”. Oh, he wanted to do it all right. Maggie was the first woman he’d been with since his ex-wife, and making the bald man cry each night wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped it would be. He wished he could fist himself right then and there, desperate to get rid of his uncomfortable and awkward hard on.

Holly also lay there wide awake, the silence too loud to even think about falling asleep. Desperate to get rid of the suffocating silence, she spoke, “This is so cliché, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Marvyn asked, genuinely unsure of what she was talking about.

“The whole two co-workers forced to share a bed thing. I thought this type of shit just happened in books to get the two main characters together,” she said matter-of-factly, not realizing until after she finished her sentence just how suggestive it was.

“Don’t get any ideas, Coach Barrett,”

“Oh, please. As if. Goodnight Marvyn.”

“Night,” she heard him whisper. Finally feeling relaxed, she dozed off to sleep to the sound of his breathing.

Marvyn woke just a few hours later, feeling pressure on his thigh. Dazed and confused, he looked up at the alarm clock next to his head, a green-lit 3:00 AM staring back at him. He turned back to see what was pressed up against his thigh. Lo and behold, Holly had thrown her leg over his thigh while they were sleeping. Pft, “as if” Marvyn silently mocked her words from earlier. His arm was trapped under her waist, ghosting over the swell of her ass. He instantly regretted lifting his other hand up to rest on her thigh, as he almost instantly got hard again.

They were hardly under the covers anymore, having kicked them off in their sleep. In the dimmed light coming from the streetlights outside, Marvyn could watch Holly as she slept. She really was a beautiful woman. He was surprised she hadn’t found anybody after her divorce. Any man would be lucky to have her. Not only was she incredibly good-humored and down-to-earth, but she also was just fucking sexy. He’d never really looked at her that way before that night, but it was hard not to when her breasts were practically falling out of her tank top and her shorts left next to nothing to the imagination.

He was abruptly shaken from his thoughts when he started to feel movement beside him. Not just any movement. No. The beautiful blonde woman beside him had started to rock her hips into his thigh. This can’t be happening. She has to be dreaming. I have to be dreaming right now Marvyn thought in a panic.

Her movements against the bare skin of his thigh grew faster, and she let out a soft moan, almost too quiet to hear. He started to feel how wet she was through her shorts. Marvyn’s heart was about to beat out of his chest, as he felt his cock twitch for what seemed like the millionth time that night, just aching to be touched. He had no clue what to do. Was he supposed to wake her up? Let her unconsciously get off on his thigh? There was no right way to go about it.

Holly slowly slipped into consciousness. She assumed the dream she was having must have been great based on how wet she was, slowly rocking against the thigh pressed firmly between her legs. It felt too good to stop. She tilted her hips back, seeking more friction against her clit. She sighed at the sensation. She became aware of the hands splayed on her lower back and on her thigh. The hardness pressed against her inner thigh then caught her attention.

Holy fuck! She thought frantically, suddenly remembering she went to sleep next to Marvyn last night. Before the panic set in, she felt the hand on her back move lower, resting firmly on her ass, which was only half covered by her sleep shorts. She nearly gasped when the hips underneath her began to rock into her thigh. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as she continues her movements.

They both knew the other was awake, but they didn’t say a word, and they didn’t stop; they just kept grinding, getting each other off. Marvyn squeezed the swell of her ass through her shorts, his hand strong and firm against the silky fabric of her shorts and her soft skin. His fingers moved towards the edge of her shorts, daring to go further. She began rocking into him a bit harder, which he took as permission to go further, letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric of her shorts and run across the smoothness of her skin. His thumb brushed the lacy fabric of the black thong he got a sneak peek of earlier. He slid his other hand up her thigh to palm her other cheek, starting to guide her movements into him.

They stayed like that, grinding into one another for a good few minutes until Marvyn grew impatient, he had to touch her, feel her. He slowly moved his hand down her thigh, stopping at her knee which rested on his waist. Lifting her knee off of him, he encouraged her to spread her legs for him. Sliding his hand down her inner thigh, he turned his head to whisper in her ear. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to push.

“Fuck, yes. Please,” she begged with a whisper. Just fucking touch me already! she wanted to yell at him.

He slid his hand past the waistband of her shorts, lifting up her tank top to rub the taut skin across her stomach, finally resting his hand on her breast, thumbing her rock-hard nipple. He was driving her insane. She lifted her hips, a silent beg for him to touch her where she needed it most.  He took the hint, trailing his hand back down her stomach, tight and coiled with anticipation. His movements became hesitant, worried about taking things too far, ruining their relationship as they knew it.

She felt his hand stop just above the waistband of her shorts. She wondered if he was unsure about touching her or just being a tease. Hoping it was the latter, she lifted her head up to whisper in his ear, “Don’t be such a tease.”

“Are you sure about his?” he asked innocently.

Hearing the nerves in his voice, she reached her hand up to rest on his, squeezing his hand to assure him how much she wanted this, how much she needed this. She guided his hand below her waistband. His hand ghosted her core through the fabric of her panties. She slid her hand up his arm to feel his biceps. He had great arms. She ached to see if his chest was just as toned and firm as his arms.

He could feel the heat of her through the thin lace fabric covering her core. Judging by how wet she was already, Holly clearly wanted this just as much as he did. The soft sighs in his ear egging him on. A rush of confidence coursed through him, realizing just how much of an effect he had on her by barely touching her. Hell, she was gasping and grinding on him in her sleep. Which could easily be from having not gotten laid in a while, but Marvyn would rather think it was because of him entirely.

He always prided himself on being particularly good at sex. He got a lot of practice in college; girls practically threw themselves at him. And he and Caren had a pretty fun and adventurous sex life for most of their marriage. He knew his way around a woman’s body: how it worked, how it reacted, how to manipulate it. And in that moment with Holly, he wanted to cherish every inch of her body, to pay attention to each subtle detail of her enjoyment…for hours.

It surprised him. This sudden sexual desire for his colleague – his assistant coach, technically his subordinate. They did do everything couples do, besides sex of course (until now). They went out to dinner, got drinks together. They trusted and respected each other, wanted the best for the other. If he had this close of a connection with any other woman, Marvyn was sure he would develop feelings for her. But this was Holly. They worked together. They were friends, yes, but their relationship was professional and strictly platonic. Whatever mentor/mentee, co-worker relationship and friendship they had was a whole lot more interesting for the both of them than some dating scenario. He always figured a crude, yet expert sexual encounter would ruin what they had together. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He wanted her. All of her.

His earlier hesitation quickly disappeared. He swiftly dipped his fingers beneath the lace of her underwear, ghosting his fingers over her wet center, teasing her. Her breath grew jagged with anticipation. His touch was a mere whisper on her skin, but it made her thighs tremble. There was no holding in the gasp that escaped her when he swiped through her slick with his deft fingers. He found her clit with his middle finger, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles, eliciting a breathy moan from her.

The position they were in wasn’t exactly comfortable, at least not for Marvyn. His right arm was still being crushed under her, and him lying on his back beside her wasn’t the most ideal if he wanted to give her the best finger-fuck of her life.

She was pleased when he moved to hover over her, basking under the weight of him above her. He was so much bigger than her. He was practically engulfing her.

“I want to see you,” he whispered, reaching to turn on one of the bedside lamps. It illuminated the room just right, not too bright, not too dark, just light enough to tear away the shadows on her cheeks and restore the glimmer in her bright blue eyes.

His right hand, still half-asleep from being under her for so long, moved to hold down her hip, keeping her still. She could already feel the bruises forming from how tight he was gripping her. The thought of him leaving a mark on her sent shockwaves of excitement through her.

He slid his other hand out from her sleep shorts, moving once more to set up on his knees. He brought his hand to Holly’s mouth, still wet with her slick.

“Open,” he directed, pressing his fingers against her lips. She obeyed, opening her mouth, and sucking on his fingers covered with her own arousal. She flicked her tongue against his knuckles, tasting herself, faintly, and feeling the roughness of his skin. He groaned and dragged his hand down to rest on her neck. No pressure. No real grasp or hold. But it stole her breath just the same.

He hadn’t even kissed her yet, something about that step feeling far too intimate. Somehow kissing her would be too far for Marvyn but rubbing her clit and letting her suck on his fingers isn’t too intimate.

Eager to feel his lips on her, Holly moved from fisting the bedsheets to fisting Marvyn’s t-shirt, pulling him down toward her. He kissed her then. It was heated, passionate, intimate. His hand still rested on her neck, his other gripping her hip, pushing her into the mattress. His tongue prodded at the seam of her lips, eager to explore her mouth.

That kiss may have been the best she’d ever had. She ran her fingers through his hair, using her grip to pull him closer to her, deepening the kiss. She lifted her hips up into him, searching for the friction her clit was craving. Her movements matched perfectly with Marvyn as he shifted his hips into hers. He was wedged between her legs, hot and hard, exactly where she wanted him. He'd be able to thrust into her right now if they weren't wearing clothes. Why the fuck are we still dressed? Holly screamed silently in her head.

The heat of his body on top of her was electrifying. She fisted his t-shirt sleeves in an attempt to keep him there, addicted to the feeling of being trapped underneath him.

His lips traveled down her jaw. He tilted her head to the side, giving him access to kiss her throat. She melted under him, a loud whimper escaping her. His mouth left a trail of hot, wet kisses down her throat, across her shoulder, and along her collarbone. Being kissed had never felt so perfect, so hot.

“You won’t be needing this,” he said, lifting her top over her head and throwing it somewhere off the bed. She loved seeing him take control like this. Outside of the bedroom was a different story. She hated when he belittled her, undermined her, told her what to do. It was infuriating. But in the bedroom, under his touch, she’d do nearly anything he asked of her.

He took hold of one of her now bare breasts, the textured skin of his thumb circling her nipple made her shudder. He lowered his head to give her other breast some attention, taking her nipple in his mouth. Her hands flew to the back of his head, holding him against her, never wanting him to stop.

“Marvyn,” she sighed. It was the first word she had spoken in nearly 10 minutes.

He continued in his path down her body, kissing down the taut lines of her stomach, setting tiny little fires across her body.

“You won’t be needing these either,” he repeated, tugging her sleep shorts and panties down her incredible legs. He couldn’t wait to be between her perfect thighs, tasting her, exploring her.

“Please,” she whimpered, guiding his head down where she wanted him most.

“Patience, Coach,” he teased. She felt him smile against her inner thigh as he kissed her there. She changed her mind. He was infuriating in bed too. Such a fucking tease.

Without warning, he licked her bottom to top, stopping at her clit to suck on it, humming into her, making her jolt as if she’d been shocked.

“Fuck!” She bucked her hips into his face. He grasped her inner thighs, pushing her in the mattress, holding her still, and spreading her further apart for him. He slid his tongue between her folds, tasting her wetness, before he found her clit again, locking his mouth around it, sucking hard. Her body almost caught on fire when he slid two fingers into her, pumping into her slowly. She had never been eaten out like this before. She had no idea it could feel this fucking good. Her ex-husband would do the bare minimum, never really caring if she got off or not. He didn’t explore her like this. He didn’t take his time with her the way Marvyn was, learning what she liked, noting every move that made her squirm and moan. She was sure Marvyn had to have watched some sort of online how-to video or something because there was just no way this man could use his tongue and his mouth so skillfully. He devoured her cunt like it was his birthright, as if he'd been programmed to put his mouth precisely here and there and lick her till she screamed. And he was clearly enjoying it too. He was moaning for fucks sake.

His name fell from her lips once more as she lifted her hips to the rhythm of his licks, seeking release. “Patience,” he repeated himself. He slid his fingers out of her, replacing them with his tongue. He felt the suck of her cunt on his tongue as he fucked her with it, imagining how incredible it would feel around his cock, which was still strained against the fabric of his boxers, leaking and painfully hard. But this wasn’t about him. At least not then. He wanted to make her cum, feel her release around his tongue and taste her before he fucked her.

“Okay, Holly,” he breathed against her, “You can let go now.” He dove back into her, placing his thumb over her clit and rubbing concentrated circles. He lapped at her folds and brought his other hand down to finger her.

“Marvyn!” she cried out desperately. The stimulation was almost too much. The pleasure was intense, earth-shatteringly so. It consumed her entire body from head to toe. Heaven and torture at the exact same time.

“I know. I know. Just let go for me,” he encouraged. She whined when he pushed another finger into her and curled it, reaching for the spot inside her that he knew would send her over the edge. He continued sucking and flicking at her clit, showing no mercy as he tore her apart, fucking her with his hand and mouth until she was screaming his name and banging her thighs against his ears. Her desperate screams did nothing to halt his movements as he guided her through her orgasm before pulling his fingers out and snaking his tongue into her, tasting her release.

He came up for air, finding her breathing heavy, eyes closed, with her head thrown back into the pillows. When she managed to catch her breath and regain a semblance of lucidity, she lifted her head to watch him begin a trail of wet kisses down her inner thigh. It was obscene. The sight of him between her legs, his chin dripping with her arousal. When he caught her gaze, he couldn’t help the smug smirk that graced his lips, satisfied with the sight of her almost completely wrecked without even fucking her yet.

He rose above her again to slot his mouth against hers. She let his tongue enter her mouth immediately, sucking her taste off of it. He trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear, sucking and nibbling on it for a short moment. “I want to feel you on my cock.”

“What the hell are you waiting for?” she asked breathlessly. He lifted himself off the bed, and she whimpered at the loss of his weight on top of her.

He was still far too overdressed, so he pulled his shirt up over his head. She lifted herself up on her elbows, getting a better look at the show he was putting on before her.

His cock still ached inside his boxers, heavy and hard, desperate to be inside her. When he finally set it free from its confines, it sprung straight up. She gasped at the sight of it, a flicker of nervousness flashed across her face. She had figured he’d be pretty well-endowed. He’s Marvyn Korn. Always bigger and better than everyone. But it was intimidating. She hadn’t been with anyone in a long time, and none of the toys she used at home did justice to the size of him.

“Protection…?” he said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“I’m on the pill. I’m clean. Do you have a condom?”

He nodded and turned to walk toward his suitcase, giving Holly a nice view of his perfectly tight ass. He pulled out his wallet, fishing for the single condom he left in there from when he was dating Maggie.

“What are you? 17? Keeping a condom in your wallet?” she laughed.

“Ha. Ha,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her. He took his time opening the foil package and sliding the condom down his impressive length.

“You better hurry up. You should never keep a lady waiting.” When he looked up at her, he saw her leaning back against the pillows, legs spread, touching herself. Marvyn nearly came in his boxers at the sight of her rubbing her own cunt, still swollen and wet. She was fucking beautiful.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asked, crawling back onto the bed. Her fingers continued to move in practiced circles around her clit.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission,” she challenged boldly, lifting her head slightly to look him in the eye. The look of lust and anticipation in her eyes went straight to his cock. He stroked himself through the latex barrier of the condom as he knelt between her thighs, trying to give himself some relief.

Her movements came to a halt. He watched her in awe as she brought her own fingers up to her mouth, licking them clean, humming a soft moan at the taste of herself.

“God, you’re filthy,” he commented. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.

She’d had enough of the teasing, enough of the waiting. She wanted him inside her so fucking badly. “Just fuck me already,” she pleaded, reaching up to run her hands down his hairy chest and abs, confirming they were just as perfect as his arms.

“Filthy and eager,” he noted aloud.

“Marvyn, I swear to God—”             He thrust into her without warning, and she cried out his name. Holding still inside her, he let her adjust to the size of him. The way she felt around him was unreal. She was hot, wet, and so fucking tight. He moaned as he felt her cunt squeeze his cock as she willed her body to accustom his size.

He leaned down on top of her, smothering her body with his own. “Fuck,” he groaned in her ear, “You feel so fucking good, Holly.” He sucked lightly at the skin on her neck, tasting it’s the sweat that started to bead up there.

“Christ,” she groaned, throwing her head back, clinging to his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin from her nails, “So fucking… so big… so good,” she panted out incoherently as he increased the pace of his hips.

“You like getting fucked like this?” he grumbled in her ear, bringing his right hand to rest on her throat, not applying pressure, but making it known he could if he wanted to.

“Yes,” she managed, almost too quiet for Marvyn to hear.

“I like you like this. Taking my cock. Not putting up a fight,” he voiced lowly, biting at her ear.

She loved the dirty talk, but she hated how much his words turned her on. She lived to put up a fight, never one to accept being demeaned by someone else, especially a man. But having Marvyn so big and strong and sexy on top of her, dominating her, it was incredible, something she could only dream of.

She whined when he pulled out of her. He flipped her onto her stomach, gripped her hips, sure to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips. Her arms were splayed in front of her, and her cheek pressed against the hotel bed sheets as he dragged her hips up to meet him. He positioned himself at her entrance, pushing her legs apart so she was wide open for him. He slammed into her. The sound of his low groans and slapping of skin on skin was so obscene it nearly forced her them both to come undone.

“Marvyn,” she breathed. He just barely heard her.

He fisted her hair, pulling back just hard enough so that she was looking back over her shoulder at him. “That’s it,” he praised, “I love the sound of my name on your lips. I love hearing you lose it for me.”

“God, Marvyn,” she gasped in between moans, loving the verbal praise, wanting more.

“You take me so well,” he grunted, “Like you were made for me, for my cock.” The words rolled out of his mouth before he could even register what he was saying. But he watched and took note of the way a smile crept to her lips and the way her walls clenched around his cock with each word – she got off on it. This new discovery egged him on. He pulled her body up against him, holding her to him by the base of her throat. “Fuck, Holly. I don’t know how I’m supposed to ever stop fucking you,” he growled in her ear.

“Then don’t,” she panted matter-of-factly. Her answer surprised him. He wasn’t expecting her to even respond to him with anything besides a moan. The implications of her response made his head spin. Did she want to do this again? He thought to himself hopefully.

Her head fell back on his shoulder. She brought her hands up to grope her breasts, tweak each nipple between her fingers. “I need you to touch me,” she begged.

“Ask. Nicely,” he growled, punctuation each word with a thrust into her swollen cunt.

“Marvyn,” she let out a sigh so sexy it would put a fucking pornstar out of business, ”Please touch me. I’m so close.” She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a familiar coil tighten in her stomach.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, Marvyn, for fuck’s sake, touch me. Please. Let me cum all over you.” She was desperate for release.

Satisfied with her desperate pleas, he released his hand from her throat, moving it down to rub circles over her clit. When her legs began to shake, Marvyn fucked into her with a new urgency.

She cried out, screaming his name, her orgasm ripping through her with an intensity she had never experienced before. Her body went limp, relying on him to hold her up against him. His hand was still rubbing her clit as he fucked into her sensitive, overstimulated cunt. She hissed, pushing his hand away, the electric shocks pulsing through her body were just too fucking much.

“Come on, Marvyn,” she encouraged with what little energy she had left. “You fill me up so good. Please cum for me.” As dominant as he was with her, he got off on the praise too, his hips slamming into her harder and sloppier, chasing his own orgasm.

“God, Holly. The things… fuck…you do to me.” He was so gone, the feeling of his impending release leaving his brain fried.

“Show me, Marvyn,” she whispered huskily, “Please. For me.”

His head fell back, biting his lip to fight the loud groan that wanted to escape him. He paused deep inside her as he climaxed. He nearly blacked out; the force of his orgasm stronger than he’s had in a very long time.

He held onto the condom as he slowly pulled out of her. He got up from the bed, his legs unsteady, and walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He eyed the clean washcloths on the bathroom counter as he was walking out, grabbing one and wetting it a little in case Holly needed it to wipe herself off. Ever the gentleman.

But when he walked back into the room, he found Holly already fast asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he left the small towel on her bedside table. Before turning off the lamp, he took a moment to study her face, blissful, beautiful, and glowing. After turning off the light, he climbed into bed next to her. He kissed her temple before turning on his side to let sleep claim him.

When they both woke to their alarms a few hours later, things were…somewhat awkward between them. They danced around each other as they got ready for their day of camp with the girls, neither of them wanting to have that conversation, wanting instead to pretend that what happened was just some crazy sex dream for the both of them in order to avoid dealing with how it changed their relationship, their partnership, their friendship.

Holly looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, traced her fingers along the bruises he left on her hips and her neck. Dear God, he left fucking hickeys on her neck. She covered what she could with what little makeup she had brought on this trip. The girls won’t even notice, she thought wishfully.

They did in fact notice. Not only did they notice the poorly covered-up marks on her neck, but they also noticed the slight limp in her walk when she arrived to the camp with Marvyn.

“Looks like you guys owe me 10 bucks,” Samantha bragged to the other starters sitting at the table for breakfast.

“How do you even know they did it?” Louise questioned.

“Well, she did do a pretty terrible job at hiding those bruises on her neck,” Destiny commented.

“Wait, he left bruises on her?!” Mouse said a little too loudly, genuinely concerned.

The entire table shushed her.

“They’re hickeys, Mouse. Duh,” Samantha said. “Those two definitely got together.”

“She is kinda limping a bit, not gonna lie,” Destiny observed with a laugh. Louise shushed her, slapping her on the shoulder.

“I kind of hope you’re right, Sam,” Olive chimed in, “It’s kind of cute, like right out of a movie. Coach and assistant coach fall in love…”

“Bang in a hotel room while away at team camp,” Destiny continued, met with another hit on the shoulder from Louise.

“Guys, look,” Samantha whispered urgently, nodding her head towards the breakfast buffet.

The girls all zipped their heads around to see what Samantha was pointing at. They watched as Holly and Marvyn stepped through the buffet line together, side by side, with Marvyn’s hand resting on Holly’s lower back.

“How much more proof do you need?” Samantha asked. “Pay up!”

[stark-tony]

today is my 22nd birthday so i’m celebrating by reccing 22 of my favorite fics and giving my general thoughts about them.

atla

 i'm still here by owedbetter (77.7, T, zutara) "You see me."And somehow, that makes all the difference.

thoughts: One of the first zutara fics i ever read and it’s still one of my absolute favorites. The characterization of all of the characters is superb and the gradual development of zuko and katara’s relationship is amazing.

 such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 (47.6k, T, zutara)  Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

thoughts: while this fic is a zutara fic, the majority of this fic is centered on katara and her helping rebuild the world after the war and it does an astounding job of portraying just that. and honestly this probably has my favorite characterization of katara i’ve ever read in a fic.

 Southern Lights by colourwhirled (501.8k, M, zutara) A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand.One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.OR:The avatar has four heads.x[[Chapter 4: "And always, his eyes, cautiously watching her. Even when he thinks she isn’t looking. It drives her mad"]]

thoughts: when i say i was unable to put this fic down i genuinely mean that. like i’m pretty sure i was hooked from the very first chapter and i never looked back.

bnha

  stickers and stars by aloneintherain (1.9k, G, gen) “Aizawa, are you sure I’m the best person for this job? There are a lot more qualified people on campus. People who have been teachers for years, and—”As All Might spoke, Midoriya Izuku crawled the length of the couch, ducked under All Might’s arm, and made himself comfortable on his lap. All Might’s hands rose into the air, as though unsure of what to with his arms now that he had a toddler curled against his stomach like a cat seeking the warmth of its owner.“Um,” All Might said.

thoughts: is it not enough to say ‘baby deku’ and leave it at that?

 Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner (198.8k, T, gen) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.Or rather, what finds him.

thoughts: it’s incredibly well written and the horror aspect is so good. also the dad might in it is top tier.

villain eradication plan 5C: let them attack budding heroes mothers, wait appropriate time for mother to defeat them (3.4k, G, toshinko)  Targetting the civilian families of hero students should be cakewalk. Pity they decided to go with Inko first.Or the one where Inko accidentally defeats the League of Villains.

thoughts: this fic is basically inko accidentally being a badass and it’s as hilarious and awesome as it sounds

 see it all in bloom by aloneintherain (57.2k, T,  tododeku, kiribaku, momojirou, bullying) Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.) 

thoughts: this series deals with social media + the lives of class 1a after they become pro heroes and it is amazing.

 remember from here on in by aloneintherain (8.1k, G, gen) Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away.“You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor.Aizawa finds out about One for All. 

thoughts: this fic deals with one for all being revealed to aizawa + midoriya getting more quirks and it is amazing

could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita (5.2k, G, gen) Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.Or:All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit. 

thoughts: this fic is so lovely and i adore it so much

mcu

 the talk by parkrstark (3.1k, pepperony) “Wait, man, what’re you doin’?” Rhodey asked, leaning forward.“Giving the kid his talk before he goes off to college.” Duh.Rhodey blinked. “At 3am when you’re probably too drunk to even spell your name, months before he actually has to leave?”“Yeah.”Rhodey blinked again. “Okay.”

thoughts: this fic is absolutely hilarious and poor peter is suffering throughout all of it

 call you home by Madelinedear (19k, G, pepperony) sometimes family is who you're born with.and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt.(or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

thoughts: to me, this fic is the tony may co-parenting fic. like i honestly don’t think that anything can ever top it

I Never Lived 'Til I Lived In Your Light by losingmymindtonight (38.4k, T, pepperony, character death)  As the world shifts to make space for Morgan Stark, everyone around her shifts, too. (As it turns out, this also includes Peter Parker's sleep schedule.) 

thoughts: this fic is both fluffy goodness and heartwrenching angst and it handles both beautifully.

 Lazarus, come forth by iron_spider (47.9k, T, pepperony) Tony's mind is a chaotic mess but he remembers the moment—remembers his death, remembers the red hot pain and Peter screaming, Rhodey rushing to his side. How he knew he’d never see Pepper again—but they’d fixed it. They’d fixed the world, erased the lost time, set things right—and the kid was back. The kid was crying, the kid hated him for doing what he did, but he was back. He was alive.Tony Stark was dead. But now he’s breathing again, trying to think, gasping, hands tracing the box surrounding him, covering him, suffocating him.He’s in a coffin. He’s under the ground. He’s under the fucking ground.(Tony Stark dies defeating Thanos. But then he comes back to life. He has to find out how, why, and how to live again. And how to deal with the changes in the people he's coming back to.)

thoughts: although this fic was written and finished pre-endgame but to me this fic is the fix-it fic for film.

Identity Saga by KitCat992 (400.7k, T, pepperony) An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.

thoughts: i just love the avengers dynamic in this series and the whump is medically accurate which is amazing.

college applications: the biggest meme by sagemb (3.3k, T, pepperony) Tony covered his face with both hands and screamed very gently. “Can I just bribe the school to let Peter in?"

thoughts: this series is absolutely hilarious and i love it

hp  

 The Changeling + Armistice Series  by Annerb (586.6k, M, hinny, rape) Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

thoughts: this fic is absolutely golden and i adore it so so much. the characters are so well written and the worldbuilding in this fic is fantastic and it actually has an original aspect of hogwarts (aka the parlor) that i practially consider to be canon at this point. also the depiction of slytherin house + house unity in this fic is just *chef’s kiss*

 boy with a scar by dirgewithoutmusic (208.7k, T, hinny, romione, jily)  A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

thoughts: every single one of these fics are exquisitely written and i wish that i could experience the beauty of this series again for the very first time.

  Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger) (11.1k, G, ginny) “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

thoughts: this is my favorite harry as dada professor i’ve ever read. no doubt about it

 And the Unethical Binding Contract by justafandomfollower (14.6k, G, gen) AU. What if the Triwizard Tournament took place in Harry's first year, not his fourth? 

thoughts: this fic is beautifully written and i love the relationship that forms between harry, cedric, krum, and fleur.

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux (8.8k, T, wolfstar) What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

thoughts: this fic may be ooc at some points but it’s so funny that that makes up for it

spn

 Broadway Musical by Griftings (12.5k, M, destiel) This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

thoughts: this fic is quite possibly the single most funniest thing i have ever read. like i was straight up cackling when i was reading some of the scenes.

  Down to Agincourt by seperis (1 million+, E, destiel) There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

--Harry Takes the Field by bratfarrar (AO3 link here.)

thoughts: this fic is an absolute work of art. the characterization dean and cas and all of the ocs is astounding the world building is immaculate and the writing is so detailed and in depth. a fair warning though to the first time reader as this fic can get very confusing at times but trust me it is worth it. 

[tonguetiedraven]

Trope: Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Bon/Rin

Summary: Bon and Rin meet as kids at school and things go poorly. They continue to go poorly until they both learn that they have some growing up to do.

Part: One , Two, Three (you're here at the ending)

— — — — —

Everything had gone to utter shit and they were all going to die. The only consolation Ryuuji had was that he was probably going to pass out before the Impure King came to kill him, so at least he wouldn’t have to deal with that pain.

He was still uncertain how he’d ended up here with Rin, trying to hold in the cloud of miasma and keep the rest of the mountain safe while Rin failed to draw his sword and save the day. They were both going to die here, and Ryuuji couldn’t get Rin to leave and evacuate the rest of the mountain.

(Because of course Rin would be stubborn and refuse to listen to him.)

“I can’t remember why I was so mad.”

Rin looked as if the admission had cost him. Ryuuji stared up at him, thoroughly frustrated by his own helplessness and the stupid position they were stuck in.

“What are you talking about, Okumura?”

“In school. Not this one. You know, before?” Rin fidgeted with the useless sword and part of Ryuuji was tempted to break his personal barrier and just pull the blasted thing out so Rin could actually help instead of having an existential crisis.

“Why you were mad? I took your fucking seat.” It was a stupid reason to be a jackass. It had been stupid then and time hadn’t made it any less stupid. Still, he couldn’t believe they were talking about this now. They hadn’t talked about it once in the last semester, and he didn’t really see a reason to start talking about it now. “You got pissed and acted like the dumbass you are.”

“I skipped classes over there ‘cause the teachers never looked,” Rin snapped back. “And like you had a better reason!”

“You ruined my book when you dumped that water on me. I had sniffles for a week and I couldn’t afford another book. I had to get your twin to show me his copy of the damn book so I could complete the assignments!”

“I— what?”

Ryuuji’s face contorted into a scowl that even the exhaustion couldn’t stop. Fuck it, they might as well have this out here and now. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else he could go, and they were probably going to die anyway.

“I had been sent away from my home and family and I didn’t know anyone. Those stupid books were one of the only things I’d been able to afford and school was all I had. I was fucking miserable all the time and you just made it worse when you did that. So yeah, I stole your damn seat. It was a bench that no one else was at and I didn’t want to deal with all the fucking cliques at that damn school.”

“Neither did I! They all hated me ‘cause I had a temper and I thought you were just another of those jackasses when you yelled at me!”

“Well maybe if you had used your damn brain you woulda realized—”

“I’m sorry, okay?!”

“—that you— what?!”

Rin dropped the still sheathed sword to his side and hung his head like they weren’t in the middle of a damn fight and they had all the time in the world to sulk about past stupidity.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that stuff and I was angry about everything. I shouldn’ta taken it out on you, and even if I didn’t know that doesn’t mean I was right to do any of it.”

Ryuuji could only gape at the flickering teen in front of him. The rage in his chest had cooled during the rant (probably aided by how damn exhausted he was) but he hadn’t anticipated that. Rin full on apologizing and acknowledging that he had messed up. Without even asking Ryuuji to do the same. It was an apology without expectations or excuses, and it was something he’d wanted from the moment the water had been dropped on his unsuspecting head.

“I’m sorry too,” he muttered, hardly able to get any air into his miasma filled lungs. Everything was starting to swim in his vision and there were more stars in his vision than were in the night sky overhead. He was going to pass out and they were all going to die. He was a failure. “Sorry I never tried to get to know you.” He swayed forward, barely holding himself upright. His hands were trembling violently against the ground and he estimated that he had a handful of seconds before he collapsed. At least he could get this shit out. “Sorry I wouldn’t… listen.” He wheezed on a painful breath and slumped further over. The King was getting closer, he could feel the ground shaking underneath him. (Or maybe he was the one shaking.)

“Suguro?!” Rin jumped off the lump of miasma he’d been fighting on and got closer. “What’re ya doing? You can’t pass out now!”

“It ain’t like… I got much…” his throat ached, and every breath he did manage just made him more aware of all the places he was failing. They had wasted so much damn time on this petty argument. They could have probably held this line if they’d been working together.

Rin’s hand landed on his shoulder. Ryuuji hadn’t seen him pass the barrier. “Come on, Suguro! Keep it together! We’re gonna beat this thing’s moldy ass and then we’re gonna go do something awesome. Something like… Kyoto Tower!”

What? Kyoto Tower? When in the actual hell had Kyoto Tower entered the conversation?

“What?” It was easier to breathe with Rin close. The smoke from his flames seemed to soothe a little of the burn in his chest.

Rin pushed him back uptight with a fake grin. “Come on! It’ll be awesome! I’ll even race ya to the top. We’re gonna go tomorrow. Come on, promise you’ll take me?” Rin stepped back as he spoke, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the nearing Impure King.

“Don’t,” he wheezed, “get distracted.”

“I’m not!” Rin batted away some miasma. “But come on and say you’ll go?”

Ryuuji gaped up at Rin and the looming death behind him. “Don’tcha think we got other things to worry about?”

“What? Chicken that I’ll win the race?”

What the hell was going on? It wasn’t about Kyoto Tower, he knew Rin well enough to be certain about that. But he had no idea what it was about. Why Rin would be rambling all distractedly about Kyoto Tower when Ryuuji had just told him that he was going to die and that Rin needed to—

Oh.

Shit.

It was there in the tense line of Rin’s shoulders and how rigid his tail was. It was there in the way Rin wouldn’t quite meet his eyes and how nervously he was fiddling with the hilt of his sword. Rin didn’t care about Kyoto Tower, at least probably not right now. Nope. Rin was pretending to be brave and certain just like he’d been pretending to be brave and certain since Ryuuji had met him. Rin was trying to distract him from their doom and his own exhaustion.

It was almost noble. (It was noble, but a tired and irritated part of himself still didn’t want to admit that he’d misjudged Rin.) It was stupid and ridiculous, but it was also enough to make a tired laugh fall from Ryuuji’s lips. They were both idiots.

“Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll race ya to the top.” Lifting his heavy head, he locked eyes with a shocked Rin and smiled as much as he could. “Better beat that thing, Okumura, ‘cause I’m trusting you to it.” And with those probably stupid words, Ryuuji broke the seal for his personal barrier and closed his eyes.

Whatever was going to happen, he actually did trust Rin to win this fight.

— — — — —

Rin was vibrating with something that was too big to just be excitement. Kyoto Tower was as awesome as he’d expected it to be, but it wasn’t what made him feel like he was going to burst.

Ryuuji was panting slightly next to him, and his handsome eyes were locked on the city spread out below them with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Rin had run the race, but Ryuuji had made him work for it and there was something thrilling in that. Thrilling in the challenge of beating Ryuuji and standing with him triumphantly at the top as they looked at the city spread below them. He could see the spot they’d taken on the Impure King, and won.

“Not bad, Suguro.”

“I’ll getcha next time,” Ryuuji promised, something determined lighting his eyes as he scanned the hills. Rin licked at his lips in anticipation of that next fight.

He wasn’t sure what they were now, but he was so excited to find out. Whatever it was, if Ryuuji was involved, it was going to be wild, and Rin was down for that ride.

A/N: If you want to read the eventual conclusion/get together of this, you can see it here: https://tonguetiedraven.tumblr.com/post/669515420656680960/can-i-ask-for-a-thank-you

[dawninlatin]

Happy Halloween

Part of the Manorian Teacher AU

Words: 1782

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon and Dorian celebrate Halloween together for the first time

Dorian Havilliard was finally beginning to understand that Manon had been serious when she’d uttered the words I don’t play Halloween. This was the first holiday they would spend together, and Dorian knew he’d be in for a rough month when his girlfriend had woken up on October 1st, a disturbing smile on her face, and declared the day to be the first of Halloween.

Manon was slightly terrifying on any given day, but Manon during the spookiest month of the year…Dorian suppressed a shudder at the thought of how she practically buzzed with giddy excitement.

And how his girlfriend, it seemed, went all out with everything.

Stepping into the kitchen, which had been transformed into the lab of a mad scientist, Dorian filled the giant bowl standing on the counter with candy for any trick-or-treaters that might dare knock on their door.

Normal people usually went with one theme when decorating their home, but theirs looked like a haunted mansion, a new theme in every room. Their garden was now a graveyard, the downstairs bathroom could have passed for an asylum, the living room was a murder scene, the hallway was filled with your average spider webs and skeletons, and in the kitchen, there were jars filled with very realistic eyes, creepy, rusty instruments hanging on the walls and vials with green smoke coming out of them. Manon had assured him whatever she was brewing was perfectly safe, «just don’t, under any circumstance, ingest it.»

Not playing, indeed.

One would think having Aelin Galathynius as a friend for most of his life would make him immune to anything spooky, since Halloween practically was a religion to her, but compared to Manon, it was all child’s play. No surprise those two had gotten along so quickly.

Throughout the month, they’d watched more horror movies together than Dorian had his whole life, and every day, Manon found new, creative ways to scare him shitless.

Dorian often wondered how he hadn’t had an actual heart attack yet, with all the ways she’d managed to make him scream in horror, whether that was by jumping out from behind doors or placing severed limbs in the fridge. Not even work was safe, since they were both teachers at the same high school.

He couldn’t help but look a little forward to tomorrow, when it would all be over, their lives back to normal. Of course, he would never tell Manon that. As much as he hated being scared, the look of complete and utter glee on her face whenever she managed to scare him made up for it.

It wasn’t that Dorian didn’t like Halloween, either, they just had completely different views on how to best spend it. His ideal Halloween meant watching a cozy movie like Halloweentown or A nightmare before Christmas while shamelessly eating a ridiculous amount of candy. Manon’s motto seemed to be the more macabre, the better.

But instead of complaining, Dorian looked forward to Christmas, when he would guilt her into partaking in every cheesy, fluffy tradition there was while feeling the joyous spirit of Christmas. He could already picture how hard Manon would roll her eyes at all the Hallmark movies he planned to show her.

After filling up the huge bowl of candy, Dorian stepped out into the hallway, placing it on the console table next to the door. Hopefully he would get to eat most of it by the end of the night, since he doubted anyone were brave enough to walk up to their dark, old house. He sure as shit wouldn’t have been.

As he passed the large, full-length mirror, Dorian couldn’t help the satisfied look on his face. He’d done an excellent job with his costume this year. A sheer blouse, a pair of high-waisted black pants, golden jewelry, golden dust highlighting his cheekbones, pointy ears, a tail, all pulled together by the goblet of wine he was holding. The one good thing about Halloween was that it allowed him to dress up as his favorite book characters.

He shifted his gaze downward for a moment, adjusting his clothes, and when he looked back up, he let out a yelp at the creature standing behind him in the mirror. Thunder crackled outside as Manon leaned her head back and laughed manically.

She was a truly horrifying sight to behold with her wholly white eyes and bloody grin. Her white hair was smeared with what could only be described as gore and her throat looked to be slit. She looked like a nightmare, and judging by the satisfied smirk on her face, she knew it too.

«You ready for some scary movies?» Manon asked him, giving his costume a nod of approval. Absolutely not, Dorian wanted to say, knowing she’d saved the worst movies for last.

Instead, he took a shuddering breath and said, «Can’t wait.» His voice was tight, shaking slightly. The look Manon gave him made him want to turn the lights on and hide under a blanket.

-

They were only fifteen minutes into A Nightmare on Elm Street, but Dorian was already clinging to Manon, his face buried in the crook of her neck. How could she be so calm right now? She seemed to be enjoying it, even.

Someone knocked on the door, and Dorian jumped, his heart racing. It’s just trick-or-treaters, he told himself. Definitely not a psychopath killer.

«Fucking finally!» Manon exclaimed as she paused the movie and got up, heading towards the door. Dorian was torn between wanting to run out and protect her from the killer that was surely waiting behind the closed door and begging her to not leave him alone.

Calm down you idiot, he told himself. What kind of killer knocks on the door?

Then it hit him, all blood draining from his face. It would be a genius move to just knock on the door if you wanted to kill someone.

As he was about to run into the hallway and hide behind his girlfriend as she dealt with the threat, he heard the door open, followed by the sound of giggling children. Manon’s words from earlier, when he’d asked why she loved Halloween so much, echoed in his mind: «I get to scare little children while looking awesome! What’s not to love?» The more he got to know this woman, the more she amazed him.

After a moment, Manon said something he couldn’t make out, but he could hear the kids scream as they ran away, then the door slamming shut once more. The sound of Manon’s evil laughter filled the eerie house as she stepped back into the living room. «I love Halloween!»

-

Dorian was sure he’d never been more relieved when the movie finally ended and Manon turned the lights back on. That relief was quickly replaced by dread though, when a loud thump sounded upstairs.

«What was that?» Manon asked, casting a worried glance at the ceiling.

Dorian eyed her suspiciously, knowing she was surely the one behind this.

«Why are you looking at me like that?» she hissed when she noticed his accusing stare. «This isn’t me, I swear!» His face paled at the truth he could hear in her voice.

«It’s probably nothing, right?» Dorian tried to hide the fear in his voice with a nonchalant chuckle. Their house was old, so it was normal for it to make a lot of scary noises. Although…

«That came from the attic, right?» Manon whispered from her spot next to him, her breath hitching as they heard another thump.

«I think so,» he said, swallowing audibly.

«Maybe we should check it out…»

Dorian shook his head. «Fuck no! The one thing I’ve learned from all those movies you’ve made me watch is to never check out weird noises.» No way was he stepping foot into the creepy attic. He’d avoided it as much as possible since moving into the house a month ago.

«Fine, then I’ll do it,» Manon declared, giving him a nasty glare. Yet he didn’t miss the way she rose a bit reluctantly, her voice shaking.

When she was halfway across the room, Dorian let out a defeated sigh, quickly trailing after her. He didn’t want to find the source of the noise, but he most definitely didn’t want to be left alone either.

He made sure to keep close behind her as they carefully treaded up the stairs, the howling wind making the entire house shake.

As they reached the top, Dorian put on a sweet face and gestured to the door. «After you, darling.»

Manon scoffed, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t move to open the door leading into the dark attic, either. Almost as if she was…hesitating.

«Don’t tell me you’re scared, Blackbeak?»

«No,» she claimed, but he could hear the fear in her voice. «ButifwedieIloveyou,» she blurted and opened the door.

Dorian knew the thought of something scaring Manon should have made him turn around and run for his dear life, but he was also eager to see what happened next.

Manon lifted a shaking hand to flick on the light, Dorian holding his breath. As her eyes fell upon the source of the noise, she let out a high-pitched shriek and ran into Dorian’s arms.

The shock of hearing Manon Blackbeak shriek erased all trace of fear lingering in him, and as he peered over her shoulder, into the attic, he leaned his head back and howled with laughter.

For there, in the middle of the floor, was Abraxos, trapped under a white sheet, a knocked-over box next to him. «Meow,» he said, as if in greeting.

Dorian pulled up his phone, snapping a picture of the little ghost. Then he turned around and took another, of Manon, who now stood at the middle of the landing, arms hanging limp at her sides, a mix of fear and confusion on her face. He should have felt guilty for laughing at her, but revenge tasted so sweet.

Her frightened look quickly turned into one of rage as she noticed what Dorian was doing, his laughter dying at the murderous glance she threw him. «Meow,» Abraxos said once more, unknowingly stopping Manon from killing Dorian with her eyes.

After freeing the poor kitten, Dorian turned towards a glaring Manon and said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, «Is a harmless kitten all it takes to scare you?»

Her face broke into a terrifying grin. «I wouldn’t look so smug if I were you. There are still a few hours left…» Then she just turned on her heel and began walking down the stairs, glancing over her shoulder. «Happy Halloween, Dorian.»

A/N: Remember when I said I'd have lots of time to write? Yeah, me neither...

I am very sorry for not updating anything, but I barely have the energy to keep up with school these days, so things will take time:(

Feel free to leave feedback if you want to! It's a huge inspiration to keep writing<3

Taglist: @fireheartdreamerstarborn​ @bookishwitchling​ @ladywitchling​ @kit-12​ @onfma​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @sayosdreams​ 

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to this or any other:)

[slytherinbangchan]

Badboy! Seungmin Part 2 (Gang!Au)

Gang!Au!Masterlist -> Since it’s an AU every member’s story is linked to the other members. Seungmin’s part 1

Pairing: Gang Au! Member Seungmin x Fem reader

Warnings: Smut, exhibicionism(?) swearing, bullying talk

~

-'You heard about that guy from the other school getting beat up by Han?' You hear some guys talking as you watch the game.

-'What are you talking about? I heard he just threatened him and let him go'. Another one says.

-'Whatever. If Han didn't beat him that day he will some other day if that guy keeps bugging him'.

-It's funny how everyone knows Jisung even when he never went to yours or the neighbor school.

-Guess it's only natural for Bangchan's right hand to be known among so many people.

-You turn your head a bit to look at Seungmin who fell asleep as he waited for his turn to play.

-His baseball cap down hiding his face. His arms are crossed and his own bat is resting next to him.

-You wonder if he's hearing any of what those idiots are saying.

-They keep gossiping about the gang for a good while.

-You can't believe they haven't noticed yet Seungmin is sitting right behind them.

-You're all on the same class. It's only logical Seungmin would be there.

-Is not like he ever misses a class.

-Even if it's P.E.

-'Oof, you know who I can't stand? Lee Minho'. One of the guys say and the other one chuckles.

-'Who the fuck likes that guy? He's a bully. And why is he still here? He should have graduated long ago'.

-'Yeah'. He laughs. 'Ah, but actually.. I think Seungmin is weirder. Like seriously sometimes I get goosebumps when he shushes us in class'.

-You turn your head again to look at Seungmin. He's smirking now. You can only see his mouth cause the cap.

-You chuckle silently then your P.E teacher calls Seungmin out.

-'Kim Seungmin, you're up'. He says looking behind those guys and they stop talking.

-Seungmin stands up as he grabs the bat and the guys fearfully turn around slowly.

-Their eyes meet Seungmin's for a second as he walks towards the field.

-'I-I'm sorry' One of them says. 'We didn't mean that..'

-But Seungmin just walks away so they turn around to look at you.

-'y/n, you have to help us please'. They say. 'Tell him it was a joke'.

-'You know he's not stupid, right?' You say. 'Besides, what is he gonna do?'

-That's a genuine question. You've never seen or heard anything about Seungmin bullying people.

-'C'mon y/n please'. One of them begs and the other agressively nods. 'You know exactly what he'll do'.

-You tilt your head confused then look up as you notice your boyfriend walking towards you.

-'Forget it, she won't help us'. The other one says and they turn around again, bowing their heads as they see Seungmin.

-'Leave'. He says and they run. 'You didn't look at me'. He complains.

-'Sorry I got distracted. I didn't expect you to be so fast'. You apologize and he scoffs.

-'What was so interesting about those two anyway?'

-You chuckle. 'Nothing, they were asking me to help them out'.

-'With what?' He asks as he takes off his cap, ruffles his hair and puts it on again.

-'I don't know.. You? They thought you'd do something bad to them'. You chuckle as if that was the most ridiculous idea you've ever heard but he doesn't say a word.

-He doesn't even smile.

-He just watches the rest of your classmates play with a serious face.

-'..Seungmin?' You call his name but he doesn't look at you either.

-Your heart stops for a moment.

-Were those guys right?

-But? No way...

-'Hey, let's get out of here'. He suddenly says.

-'Ah.. Okay. Where should we go?'

-'I actually have to go to Changbin's'. He says.  'Do you mind if we drop by?'

-'No, it's fine but are you sure you wanna skip classes?'

-'Next class is not important. You can stay if you want though'. He says.

-He's more serious lately.

-Mostly after that night where the rival gang appeared while you were all chillin in that field.

-Actually you were the ones spotting them.

-You and Seungmin had found a hidden spot to make out just when you saw the rival gang creeping at Jeongin and his girlfriend.

-Bangchan looked really pissed.

-He wasn't scary in your eyes when you first met him but he's now.

-To be honest you never know what to expect when dropping by Changbin's house.

-Today it seems like they're just chilling.

-There's just Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Felix playing Mahjong in the living room while they chat.

-They stop their chatting to say hi and then Changbin and Jisung keep talking while Seungmin aproaches Bangchan.

-He's whispering stuff while he passes an envelope to Seungmin so you look away.

-Seungmin told you the less you know about the business the better.

-Your eyes drift to Changbin.

-He's telling Jisung about some guy who apparently is after their girlfriend.

-Jisung is not amused at all.

-Like Changbin was kinda joking while telling him but Jisung looks like he's ready to kill someone right now.

-'Why the fuck didn't you tell me earlier?' He asks and Changbin changes his expression.

-'Han, chill. I took care of it already'.

-'Fuck you. Tell me where to find that kid right now'. He says as he stands up.

-A hand on your shoulder takes you away from that conversation. 'Y/n, let's go'. Seungmin says and you wave the guys goodbye, but only Bangchan and Felix say bye back.

-You walk in silence til you're out of Changbin's house.

-'So much drama, huh?' Seungmin asks and you chuckle softly.

-'Yeah, what was that about?'

-'Jisung is a jealous guy'. He says.

-'Yeah... What about you?' You ask kinda joking and he frowns a bit. 'What? You wouldn't get like that right?'

-He scoffs. 'Let's just hope no one will be stupid enough to try and get themselves between you and I'.

-'Are you serious?' You ask and he looks at you.

-'Why wouldn't I be?'

-'But you wouldn't go all mad like Jisung, would you?'

-He tilts his head. 'Why are you asking me that? Is there someone bothering you?'

-'Oh god, no'. You chuckle nervously. 'I just can't picture you like that'.

-'Certaintly I'm way calmer than Jisung'.

-'But?' You ask and he sighs.

-'I'm no saint either y/n. You should know that by now'.

-'What are you talking about? You are not like the others'. You say and he chuckles. 'Why are you laughing? You said yourself you don't like bullies'.

-'And I don't. But I wouldn't take people disrespecting me or those who are close to me lightly'.

-You stop walking so he does too. You don't know what to say though.

-'What?' He asks as he waits for you to start walking again.

-You sigh. 'Nothing I guess. Honestly I think I'd be the same way about people I care about'. You start walking again in silence.

-He doesn't say much more either.

-Is not like you’ll think differently about him just cause of this.

-After all you had an idea of where you were getting into when you started dating him.

-Maybe you just thought he wasn't as 'bad' as the others.

-'Hey let's get some snacks and watch a movie'. He says as he pulls you closer with his arm over your shoulders.

-He pecks your cheek and you smile. 'What about school?'

-'Fuck school. Our class is pretty behind compared to us anyway'. He says then smirks.

-A bit later you’re in your room watching a really boring movie.

-'I thought you said 'fuck school''. You say as you chuckle and push Seungmin's book out of his hands with your foot.

-'Baby, stop that'. He nags at you.

-'No way. You said we were watching a movie'. You pout.

-'Yeah, you chose the wrong movie though. I'm bored'. He chuckles keeping his eyes on the book.

-'Are you seriously telling me you'd rather study than watch this movie?'

-'Yes'. He chuckles again.

-You watch him for a moment as he completely focus on his book. He looks so good.

-Messy hair and those glasses.

-You turn off the tv and crawl to sit astride him but he doesn't take his eyes off the book til you've unzipped his pants.

-'What are you doing?' He asks and you take the book from his hands and toss it away.

-’It's time for biology'. You say and he chuckles.

-'Cheesy'. He says but he's smirking.

-'Shut up'. You kiss him as you palm him and he follows the kiss.

-'Thought your parents were coming home soon'. He says as you bite on his neck.

-'I don't care'.

-You stand up for a moment to get rid of your panties then come back on his lap.

-'How are you this wet already?' He asks as one of his fingers slips inside of you. 'Damn baby is so damp in here, what were you thinking about?' He asks and you blush.

-'You'. You say then bite his lower lip as he smiles and introduces a second finger.

-You moan softly and his hard dick twitches at your voice so you whisper on his ear.

-He kisses you before pulling his fingers out to make room for his dick.

-And you kiss him again as he sinks into you.

-You rotate your hips a bit before going up and down on him.

-Slowly.

-His hands climb your hips and go down again to your ass as you ride him.

-He suddenly makes you stop for a moment as he hears the keys entering your house's door. 'Your parents are back'. He says and you whine.

-'They don't know we are here anyway'. You say as you try to move again.

-He scoffs as he chuckles. 'They won't let me see you again if they caught us like this'. He says and you roll your eyes.

-'Like that would stop you from seeing me'.

-He smirks. 'Right'. He pats your butt so you'd move again. 'Be quiet anyway'. He asks you and you roll your eyes again.

-You have to bite your lips really hard though to avoid any noise.

-You can hear your mom humming some song in the bathroom for a moment.

-But as your orgasm approaches it all disappears and it feels like it's only you and Seungmin there.

-He bites on your tits as you move faster.

-Tiny moans scape your mouth.

-Then Seungmin stops again and you notice the steps coming closer to your room's door.

-Your heart is beating so fast as you see your dad's feet shadow waiting in front of your door.

-Seungmin silently laughs. 'You're not so brave now huh?' He whispers as he leaves a bite on your shoulder.

-You hit him softly cause that bite almost made you whine out loud and he chuckles silenty then pats your butt again so you'd start moving, which you do, making him groan softly.

-'Hello?' You father asks as he knocks on your door and it feels like your heart stops beating. 'Hello?' Your mom replies from the bathroom. 'What's wrong honey?' She asks, distracting your father who leaves to talk to her instead.

-Seungmin laughs and your heart can beat again.

-He kisses you and you calm down a bit.

-Soon all of that is long forgotten as you can only feel the heat and hear Seungmin gasps and the clash of your bodies as you move.

-'I'm gonna cum'. He whispers then softly bites on your neck.

-'Mhm'. You nod and look for his lips.

-His hands grasp on your butt as he releases.

-And you rest your head on his shoulder as you reach your orgasm too.

-Biting him as you try to be as quiet as possible.

-His seed drips out of you as he goes soft inside you while you kiss.

-'Imagine if I got pregnant cause of this...' You say and he smiles.

-'Stop playing, you're on the pill'.

-'Yeah but imagine'. You chuckle.

-'Well, we'd run away together'.

-You scoff as you smile. 'You really want a kid at our age?'

-'If it's yours...' He says as he smiles and you scoff again.

-'You're crazy'.

-He chuckles as he takes a lock of hair out of your face. 'Yeah, for you'.

-'Wow, you gotta shut up now'. You say as you playfully hit him.

-He holds your wrists to make you stop and you lean over him to kiss as you're still blushing over what he said.

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

-It's a rainy morning at school next day so your eyes are glued to the window while you wait for everyone to arrive to class.

-Seungmin is later than normal.

-You can see him arriving from the window.

-And as soon as the others see him people start whispering.

-It's nothing weird, it happens everyday.

-But today everyone is being extra careful not to be heard.

-You manage to catch something though.

-It's not gossiping this time.

-They're trying to calm someone down.

-You turn around and see one of the guys from yesterday fidgeting on his chair as your other classmates talk to him.

-Your eyes meet for a split second and he stands up to leave.

-You watch him walking out the class just when Seungmin arrives.

-The guy apologizes and steps aside so your boyfriend can enter the classroom.

-'What did you do?' You ask right away as Seungmin seats next to you.

-He sighs as he looks for his books on his backpack but he doesn't say a word.

-'Seungmin?'

-'I did nothing. Minho had a little talk with him and his friend after what they said yesterday. That's all'.

-'Is Minho your guardian dog or??' You ask and Seungmin laughs making you hard not to smile too.

-'Ah, y/n don't you ever say that in front of him'. He chuckles.

-'Okay and you stop laughin cause I can't stay mad at you like this'.

-'Well, then don't. I already told you he didn't beat them or anything they just had a chat.'

-You kinda growl in frustration and he chuckles again. 'What was that?' He asks.

-'Nothing. I just don't understand why someone who is obviously going to be able to get any job he wants gets into this kind of stuff when he can have a simple and unproblematic life.' You say and he scoffs as he smiles.

-'Do I look like a guy who wants a simple life?' He asks and you feel some kind of butterflies in your stomach as you blush.

-'I... Shut up'.

Pt3 (Soon)

Blog’s Masterlist

[creepyalienghost]

Yandere.

It was Sammy’s first day of college but it was also Sammy’s first time away from home. Where he grew up in an a abusive house hold. He had never been shown love by anyone in his life. Not even at school. The students constantly bullied him and the teachers there hated him. Even his boss treated him like a robot and didn’t care how tired and overworked he was. He was numb to the pain and didn’t care for people anymore. To him they would all just hurt him one day or another. He was glad the dorms there only held one person, him. He wouldn’t ever get any rest or time to recover if there he had to worry all the time here.

His first corse came Monday the following week, Business. He didn’t care for the core but he figured it would help him in the future. The Professor spent the first half explaining the rules to the class and the things they were going to learn here. In the second half the professor told them to group up in twos for the first activity.

Sammy dreaded this activity. He could hear everyone getting up and finding there partner or friend. No one will choose him. No one ever chooses him. Ever. He gets left behind in everything all the time like-

“Excuse me?” Came a nice Southern male voice behind him, causing him to be startled and looked back. “I’m sorry for scaring you there. May I be your partner?” The man to the voice ask.

Sammy looked away from him, shyly. Why has he come to him an ask. Usually the teacher just ins up putting him in one or demanding another kid to join him so they could get on with the lesson. But this guy! He came without that or hesitation. It felt...good. “Y-yea.” Sammy clear his thought. “Yea sure.”

“Thanks” the guy replied, sitting next to Sammy. “I’m Norman.”

Sammy’s heart was beating fast and his stomach was doing all kinds of flips. Why would he want to be his partner? Why does he speak so kind to him? “I’m uh. Sammy..”He mumbled.

Norman gave him a kind smile. “That’s a nice name, Sammy.”

Sammy’s heart skip from that. No one has ever complemented him before. It was a lovey feeling. “ I-uh...t-thank you...” he mumbled again.

They were silent for a minute as they listen to the professors instructions on what the activity was. They would have to come up with a Product and try to sell it to the class. Once the teacher was finished he let everyone begin. “Alright, Sammy. Got anything in mind for a Product?” Norman asked

Sammy tried to think of something but his mind was distracted by his kindness. After a moment he shook his head. “N-no.” He replied, scared now that he’ll hate him for failing. “I’m sorry...”

Norman wasn’t mad though. He smiled at him again. A smile that flipped Sammy’s stomach. “No need to be sorry Sammy.” He replied. “Let’s do...a new game?” He looked at Sammy. “How’s that sound?”

“That sounds...n-nice..” Sammy said relieved yet confused that he still doesn’t hate him.

Sammy sat there and watched him write down some idea Though out the activity. Norman green eyes return to Sammy after he finished with his part of the list. “Do you have any ideas for this new game?”

Sammy looked down in wonder in thought. He didn’t want to fail him with this. He wanted Norman to like him. He needed it. “Maybe....a music game?...like you can play as a musician?...” he mumbled looking back at his face.

Norman nodded. “That sounds interesting.” He wrote it down and they continue to work on this.

The class ended 10 minutes later and everyone beings packing up and leaving. Sammy starting doing the same with his belongings when Norman turned around to him. “Hey Sammy. Is this your first year here?”

Sammy turned to him and nodded. “Y-yes. Why?”

“Because. It’s my second here.” Norman replied. “And I was wondering if you wanted to hang tonight? I can show you the town?” He ask.

He...He wanted to hang out with him? Like on a date? He he only experience this type of thing in shows. Sammy’s palms begin to sweet as well as his heart beats faster. “Yes!..I -I mean yes..” he cleared his throat.

Norman smiled a beautiful smile. “Great. Meet me at the lobby to the dorms at 7” with that he left the class.

Later that night Sammy goes to the lobby a few minutes before And learns on the wall, waiting. He passed the time by watching people. One guy was doing homework at one of the little tables, a group of guys were playing pool on the other side of the room and more walk in and out.

A few minutes later he saw Norman walk in and he got up as he approaches. “Hey. You ready?” Norman ask.

Sammy nodded. “I’m r-ready”

Norman smiled and leaned Sammy out. It was a nice cool night out and perfect for walking in. Norman loved these nights. It was peaceful walking and watching the people or sky watching or going to haunted places according to his friend Joey.

The first place Norman took him was a coffee shop. Hanks coffee shop to be exact. It was located on Main Street between the corner store and a diner. When they entered the shop, the delicious smell of coffee with a hint of honey hit them both. It made his mouth water.

“This is we’re I’d love to come and study or do homework.” Norman said. “It’s relaxing and a great place to get coffee.” He informed him with a smile. “Speaking of coffee wanna get one for the road?”

Sammy nodded in reply. “Yes. Coffee sounds great!”

Norman had ordered an ice coffee for himself and offered to pay for Sammy’s chocolate chip flapper chino coffee. They slowly sipped it as they walked down the sidewalk, passing other cute little shops

And places. A clothing store, a comic shop, a candy shop and many other places.

Norman brought him to the local book shop next. When they arrived inside Sammy saw rows and rows of books. From sci-fi to horror. “I’m a bit of a nerd.” Norman said chuckling. “So i come hear a lot.” He turned to Sammy. “Are you? Do you like to read”

Sammy shrugged his shoulders after a minute of thought. “I’m...I never really read anything t-that wasn’t for homework..”

Norman smiled. “Would you like me to pick you out a book?”

Sammy smiled and nodded. “Yes please! That would be fantastic!

Norman and Sammy spent hours looking around for something Sammy would enjoy. Norman ask questions to help decide what he likes like “do you like things about monsters” or “do you like a good mystery” in the end they came up with a sci-fi book. They payed for it and the two went to the diner to eat before heading back.

——

The morning after he took an hour reading his new book before classed and found himself really enjoying it. Once it was time to get to class he got ready and walked out of his dorm, passing the lobby on the way outside. But he stopped by what he saw. Norman was playing pool with another person! She was tall and fit with brown hair and Hazel eyes.

Sammy felt crush by this. Norman was laughing with her and talking to her, showing her how to play. He even offered her hang out later! This was unfair! Wasn’t he Normans friends? Why was she even around him! He needed to do something! Before he losses his own friend.

In the first class he didn’t focus on the Biology lesson the Professor was given. He was to busy deciding what to do with her. Should he push her in front of a car? Or should he trip her down the straits? No. Those are all Public. He needed something that could be done in public. He didn’t want be seen by people and get arrested.

After another minute of thinking he came up with the perfect way. A small twisted smile spread on to his face. After this Norman would be his friend again

—

Lacie entered the girls dorm after leaving the library with Norman and headed up

To her room. She unlocked her dorm door and stepped in, kicking off her shoes. It’s been a long busy day with school, work and homework that she was ready for a shower and then sleep. Lacie set her bag down on the desk and walked to her closet for some clothes, opening it. That’s when her head burst out in pain and everything went black.

When she came to she had a massive headache. The light was blinding as she slowly opened her eyes. Once she was cautiously aware she her hands were tied in the back and she was up on a chair with a noose around her neck. “What the hell!?” She yelled before noticing a guy in the corner. “Who are you?!... what the fuck is this?!”

The guy came forward with a deep glear of hatred tours her. “I’m Sammy. And Normans my friend!” Sammy kicked the chair out from underneath her, watching her fall and struggle to breath. He watched her kick her feet And try to kick the chair back to her, with no luck. It wasn’t long before she stopped moving and her body slumped.

Sammy finished his work by cutting her hands free from the rope, placed a note on her desk and slipped out into the night without being seen. He later laid in bed and thought about Norman being his friend again tomorrow.

-

Its been three days since the passing of Lacie. Everyone was shocked that she would do something like that. She always seemed so happy. So ready to take on the day. So ready for anything that life through at her. Norman took it pretty hard. He blames himself for not seeing the signs. He was just with her before she did it. Why couldn’t she had talk to him? He would’ve listened and tried to help her. The school held a memorial in her honor. Everyone showed up to pay respect. Norman was one of them that gave a speech there. She talked about how they were best friends since they were kids. This hurt Sammy a lot to see. Part of him felt sorry for hurting him but the other part was hurt by how much he loved her. Still, now that she’s gone he can have Norman be his friend. Other than that Norman hadn’t came out of his dorm in three days.

Sammy decided that he wanted to visit him tonight, to make sure he was alright. He could help him feel better and hopefully make him laugh.

After his last class of the day he stopped by the flower shop to buy a lovey Bouquet of flowers for Norman. He never been to a funeral before nor tried to help anyone feel better. He saw this idea on tv shows and movies and he thought it was a nice thing now. There were many different options and all of them beautiful but he eventually chose a set with Beautiful red and orange flowers that smelled good.

He walked happily back to campus and into the boys dorm. He heart was filled with Joy as he walked down the 5th floor to Normans room. But the Joy and happiness was instantly crushed when he saw another guy walking out of Normans room. He stopped in his tracks and hid behind a wall, listening.

“Don’t hesitate to call, alright man?” The guy said to Norman.

Norman stepped out and nodded. “I won’t. Thanks Jack.” With that he closed the door and jack began walking out. He passed Sammy without noticing the small man. Sammy dropped the flowers, stepping on them and following jack.

Sammy followed him for little more then five minutes, planning on what he was going to do with this one. When they got near a pound he knew exactly how to get rid of him.

He looked around on the ground for a minute before he stopped a good side rock and grabbed it. He then quicken his paste to get closer to him. At that point jack notice the sounds behind him and turned around to see what it was. It was to late for jack though. The rock knocked him out before he could respond.

Sammy quickly got to work. He started stuffing large rocks in jacks pockets. His Jeans, his hoodie pocket and even in his hoodie it self. Once he was finished with that he pushed jack into the pound and watched him sink. He quickly left the area.

Luckily for Sammy, It stormed that night. The rain watched away all of jack blood and smooth out there foot prints. The neck day there was a missing report on jack. The police searched for days and came up empty-handed. After a week of looking they had to call off the investigation. They chief of police finally claim was he ran away to stop a new life.

Sammy waited a few days before he decided to visit Norman. So things can calm down enough in Norman life. He seen Norman sad when he was in class earlier and wanted to help him and be there for him like he was on the first day. Sammy had been preparing a speech since Monday, again like he seen on tv shows and movies. He felt like he was ready on Wednesday to give the actual speech to Norman.

He went to Normans next class and waited outside of his class and waited for the remaining minutes. Once they were rushing out he peak in between person after person trying to catch Norman. But once he saw him he was hugging another girl. This time with short blonde hair and green hair. She was more girly then the last. She was also beautiful.

This time Sammy didn’t feel sad or heart broken or betrayed. Sammy felt anger and hate in his heart. Why couldn’t he just have one friend to himself!? Why couldn’t he have one good thing in his shitty damn life?! This was so unfair to him and he couldn’t take it anymore! He snapped.

Late that night Sammy came across campus and snuck in the girls dorm. He were a black hoodie that covered most of his face up, not like anyone would notice him anyways. In the pocket laid a knife. He went up to Susies dorm and knocked on her door. He wasn’t in his right mind now. Anger and hate lead him.

When she opened the door she couldn’t even get a word in. He took the knife out and stabbed her in the stomach, watching her gasp. He took it out and stabbed her with it again. He repeated it over and over again even after she stopped responding. It was like was in a trance. Stabbing and stabbing. He opened snapped out of it when he herd a gasp like scream.

He looked over and saw Norman at the door but backing away from him. He looked back down of what’s in front of him and gasp himself. There was so much blood on and around him! So much it scared him. He looked back at Norman and reached out for him. “No wait!-“ he called out.

Norman backed away another stepped. “Stay away from me! Don’t come any closer!” He replied and on the verge of crying. “Someone help! He killed my friend!” He yelled out.

Nothing could be done now. Sammy herd doors opening and people starting to freak out once they released what was going on. He herd the caretaker coning and some got on the phone for the police. He couldn’t run away from this. From what he just done. He looked at his hand all covered in blood then cried.

About 15 minutes later the police and ambulance should up on the campus. The police stormed up to Sammy and arrested him with no problem. He didn’t fight them, And when he was lead to the police car he didn’t look at the people watching the scene unfold. It was unbearable to see that. They put Sammy in the back of the car and drove him away.

——

Who wants a part two?!

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-3)

Word count: 3.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, mention of depression

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​ I love you, Athina <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

Monday morning rose brighter than it had a right to be; to the point that the sun was stabbing you in the eyes. You had been over and over the plan in your head throughout the weekend. By now, you were absolutely sure that you had mapped every second of the day and nothing could go out of hand.

The plan went sideways almost as soon as it started.

You dropped your bag at the threshold of the lecture room with a loud crash. All of the last row turned to look at who was that much of a klutz. You did not meet anyone’s eye as you took a seat at the very end of the top row. Maybe that would make you inconspicuous.

It did not.

“Y/N!”

Madison slid next to you on the bench, followed by her brood of friends. Lacey and the other two, whose names you didn’t remember.

“How are you, Sweetie?” Madison asked sympathetically. “You looked awfully ill when you left the other day. We were so worried about you! Weren’t we, Mer?”

Meredith- you remembered her name now- did not look worried in the least.

“What happened?” Madison asked.

“I was just really faint,” you answered automatically, having anticipated this. “I’m feeling much better now. Thank you so much.”

Madison looked relieved. “I’m so glad, Y/N. I wanted to check on you over the weekend, but I didn’t have your number or knew where you lived. You have to give me your number right away.”

You did, and she texted you immediately.

“Awesome!” she said. “Now you have my number, too.”

You tried to smile. “Hey, if it’s not too much, could you tell me what I missed in the two days?”

Madison became animated instantly. “Well, lets see. After you left, there was advanced legal writing by professor Mills, then Supreme Court Litigation by Professor Mcleod and Organisation and transactions law after that. Most of Friday was free except for another lecture by Professor Mills. I have the notes. Once you put your email id on the class database, I’ll forward mine to you.”

“That’s seriously more than I can ask from you,” you said, feeling small. 

She placed her hand on top of yours. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Thank you!” You said, looking down.

Madison huffed. “You thank me too much, Y/N! Besides, you really didn’t miss any of the fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Winchester didn’t show up either,” Lacey giggled. “Didn’t we turn up fifteen minutes early for his class on Thursday? And the man never came.”

Your stomach lurched, a feeling you hadn’t quite experienced in years had you feeling lightheaded. 

“Well, he didn’t completely disappear,” said the blonde. “He did turn up for the last half an hour of his lecture on Friday and outlined the syllabus of the semester.”

“He looked stiff and serious. Nothing like his first day here. And even that day he stormed off, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Madison nodded. “Right after you left, Y/N. It was a bit weird.”

You swallowed nervously, your forehead already clammed up. What was it? Was it fear or worry that you felt for Sam? You had been so wrapped up in your chaos that you hadn’t stopped to consider about Sam, assuming that he must have grown passive and wouldn’t care about the past anymore.

Sam had looked warm and at ease with himself that day, happy even, while you had only survived all these years. You’d be lying to yourself, if you said that the image of Sam on the podium, smiling at the students hadn’t felt like a knife in your gut.

But if he had not turned up for classes either… did that mean….

There was noise at the front and you saw Sam on the podium. He looked every bit as dressed up and neat as he had on your first day, if not a bit more severe. 

He greeted the class curtly, and instantly jumped to the lesson. You tried not to stare, but it was hard to look away. It was harder still to keep looking. His features seemed more angular now, and he was definitely leaner than when you had first set your eyes on him. Today he was dressed in a dark grey suit and no tie, the button at his throat was undone.

He spoke for an hour about the merger of disputes and cases where it had benefited the original plaintiffs and not once did his eyes stray towards the corner of the class where you sat. It was as if he was deliberately avoiding that very portion of the classroom. He wasn’t genial today. A good teacher, just like he always had been, but absolutely formal. When the class ended, he retrieved the attendance sheet from a kid in the first row and exited the class.

“Well, that was quite intense,” whooshed Meredith. “Hadn’t pegged him for the serious sort.”

Blonde hair giggled at the double entendre, and you almost gagged. 

“He’s actually quite good,” Madison murmured, uncharacteristically serious. “He knows what he is talking about.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded. Not that you had paid much attention to the lecture, what with your heart struck in your throat.

The classes that followed weren’t as eventful as the morning and you were more than grateful about it. The other professors all seemed so knowledgeable and expert. You had enough on your mind by the time you left the university, your plate already full of assignments.

When you got home, Meg was sprawled on one of the two sofas that came with the house and were perched in the living room.

“Hey,” you said tentatively.

Meg raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that you were initiating a conversation after a whole week of thoroughly avoiding her. 

“Hey,” she said. 

You placed your bad and laptop on the side table at the entrance and went to sit on the empty sofa. “I’m sorry about not greeting you earlier… I was going through some stuff.”

“Clearly,” she snorted.

The hurt must have shown in your eyes, because she straightened up into a sitting position.. “I’m not offended,” she said. “Locking myself in my room and avoiding human contact like it’s the fucking plague is my monthly PMS schedule. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed out.

Meg looked amused. “Your face is like an open book,” she said. “If you keep that up, you’re going to be a terrible lawyer.”

You didn’t fight her on it. It was a problem… it always had been. Over the years mostly it had been a blank and your boss had commented on your excellent poker face… but clearly even the dumb expressive face was back with all the feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re studying,” you changed the topic.

“MS, Applied physics.”

“Damn. That sounds hard.”

Meg chuckled. “You really think that, don’t you? You look terrified.”

You rearranged your expression into what was just polite interest. Enough with Meg’s expert face reading class.

“You wanna grab dinner?” Meg asked.

“Sure,” you said. “What’re we doing?”

“I made some stir fry. I didn’t know if you’d be up for dinner, though.”

You felt terrible about skipping the meals and in turn her company over the past week. 

“No worries,” she said, getting up. “I’ll just toss some pasta and we’re good to go.”

“Hey, Meg?” You asked, “I see you’ve stocked up the pantry. It’s incredibly kind of you. I might drive to the supermarket tomorrow after classes, why don’t you let me know if there’s anything you want.”

She looked at you with some surprise and a hint of actual liking. “Sure. We can make a list over food.”

“Great,” you smiled.

The rest of the week passed without any more surprises, and you took your time to settle in… getting to know Stanford- both, the University and the town. You attended all lectures regularly and gave your hundred percent effort to every assignment.

In classes, you listened with utmost concentration… all except one. Civil Procedure wasn’t a lecture, it was slow seething torture. Watching Sam talk on the podium, interacting with students simply made it hard to breathe. The walls of the lecture room converged in on you while you gasped for air. On Sam’s part, he ignored you completely. It was as if you didn’t exist at all. Over the course of the week, his stiff, formal stance loosened and you could see more and more of the guy who had introduced himself on the first day. You didn’t know what you had been expecting from him? That one day he would suddenly look at you with hatred and throw you out of the class? That he’d lose his mind and yell at you? Ask you the questions that you didn’t want to answer?

But even for all that, he’d have to acknowledge your presence. Look at you. Somehow the ignoring and pretending that you didn’t exist was so, so much worse. It was killing you. Every second of the class, you fought your tears. However, you did not miss a single class. 

Apart from those two hours everyday, you were doing well, all things considered. On Thursday, you packed more food than just your lunch, and after classes, walked to the Green Library. It was just as breathtaking as it had been on the first day. You set out to find that one table that felt right. After a quarter of an hour of testing and teasing, you finally found a desk that looked oh so inviting. It wasn’t the one below the tall, arching windows, but rather a small desk niched between the bookshelves. It was perfect.

You unloaded your bag, and set to work with the assignments that had been set for the class by Professor Mills. You personally thought Jody Mills was a total badass. She took up cases that others were too scared to touch. Her assignments didn’t require you to reference too many books, so you could make yourself comfortable in the chair. Your mind wandered as the time passed. There were a lot of things to be thought through. For starters, if you had to afford living here, you needed a job. Your savings would last a couple of months at most.  The expense of moving across the country then having to pay for the lease of the apartment had taken a massive toll on your bank account. By the time holiday season began, you’d be as broke as the china in your grandma’s old cabinet.

Earlier, you had put in an application at the Student’s employment centre for oncampus jobs. You weren’t hopeful, given the number of applications they received, but you sure meant to check in on them next week in hopes that something suitable might have come up.

It was past 8 in the evening when you finally wrapped your stuff up, somewhat satisfied with how your assignment had turned out. You lowkey congratulated yourself on finishing it a week before the deadline as you made your way back home, crashing the minute you found your bed.

********************

18th July 2008

“Y/N! There’s someone here to see you!” Jo hollered from somewhere in the living room.

Thankfully the door to the room you were sharing with Jo was open.

“Coming!” You yelled back, wondering who could it possibly be. Maybe it was the postman with your grandma’s letter. She was a weird old lady who still loved writing handwritten letters. Gramps had been to the war and their love story had blossomed over letters sent across borders. Even though gramps had passed away many years ago, she still got that rosy look on her face whenever she talked of him. You wanted a love story like hers. Was it too much to ask for?

You made your way down the steps two at a time, excited for the letter. Maybe she had sent cookies along with it. Oh, how you loved her.

On the bottom step, you stopped. Sam Winchester was standing in the hallway, one hand balancing a lot of books, the other scratching the back of his neck, looking adorable in old jeans and an open button up over his t-shirt.

“Hey!” He said.

You were wearing a loose shirt without a bra over a pair of boy shorts, with hair falling over your shoulders. Needless to say, you were mortified. 

“Give me two minutes,” you muttered and rushed back upstairs. 

As you were pulling on a pair of leggings, it occurred to you how dumb the interaction had been. He was here to see you and neither had you invited him in nor asked him why he was here.

To add to your embarrassment, when you returned downstairs, he was still standing at the bottom of the stairs five minutes later, exactly where you had left him.

“Why’re you still standing here? Please come in!” You urged, scandalised that you had kept a guest waiting like that. Gran would have tutted so hard had she been here.

Sam followed you into the living room. Jo was lounging on the smaller sofa chain and you glared at her. She could have easily invited him in when she opened the door.

But no! How else would Y/N suffer in life?

Jo gave you the evil grin and waved to Sam. 

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll have coffee!” Jo ordered and you threw her the stink eye again. 

You gave Sam a chagrined look. “I’ll put the pot on the stove for her anyway. Do you want coffee?”

He looked like he was trying very hard to smile. “Black please. With half a spoon of sugar.”

You tried to calm your nerves as the pot boiled. Being a nervous wreck wasn’t going to help your case.

When you brought the two mugs of coffee outside, Sam was reading one of the books he had bought along and Jo was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Jo?” You asked, carefully placing the steaming mug before him on the table.

Sam shrugged. “She said she suddenly felt sleepy. And that you should drink her coffee because you both like it the same way.”

Oh, that sly girl.

“So, what brings you here?” You asked, taking a seat next to him on the sofa.

Sam smiled shyly. “You said you could use a second pair of eyes for the application.”

He had come all the way from wherever he stayed just to help you with the applications? 

“Really?” 

“Sure.” He tilted his head, the bangs on his forehead sliding to one side. He just had such beautiful hazel eyes. You have to avert your gaze so you wouldn’t just blatantly stare at him.

You excused yourself a second time and pulled out all your application stuff. Forms, copies of essays, documents and everything. It would be absolutely stupid to not make the most of this opportunity. 

Sam took his time with all of it, going through each paper carefully and you counted your breaths to keep away the anxiety. At least he wasn’t laughing at how ridiculous your applications were. That was something. When he was done, he slowly put the papers down and looked up at you.

“Where else have you applied?” He asked.

You told him.

“You didn’t think of applying to any major universities?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t think I had a chance… and I don’t even think I was cut out for those.”

Sam reached out to place his hand on top of yours. A tingling sensation went up your spine. “Y/N! This looks great. Your essays are top notch. You should apply to Ivy Leagues.”

“I’ve already missed deadlines for them… and there are some good universities on my list as well.”

“But you deserve better!” He insisted.

You shrugged. “I don’t have that sort of money, and before you say scholarships, I don’t have those types of recommendations either. I come from a small town. People who are born there, spend their whole lives in the same house. They are happy with what they have.”

“Are you happy with what you have?” He asked, the light from the setting sun hitting his face, illuminating those eyes so they looked like burning topaz.

“I’m happy,” you said, looking at your lap where his hand rested on yours. He seemed to have forgotten about it. “But I know I can do better… for myself and my Gran.”

You made the mistake of looking up then… into his eyes, and they were closer than you had expected them to be. As if, he had no control over it, his hand reached out to touch your hair, the fingertips caressing your cheek on their way there. Slowly, but surely, he drew your face towards his… and you went, willingly. His lips had barely grazed yours when there was a loud noise in the hallway.

You sprang apart. 

“Y/N!” It was Jo.

Ordinarily, you’d have flicked your tongue at her or something for interrupting like that. Afterall, she was the one who kept egging on you to get lucky, and the one time you had… that too with Sam frigging Winchester, she had to come barging into the room. Uhgg… Jo was going to get it.

But her face was completely white, and her hand, which was holding the phone, was shaking.

“Y/N,” she whispered again. Your neighbour called. It's your grandma… she passed away last night. 

********************

You woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of the blaring alarm.

Gran!

The worry felt so fresh, you had to remind yourself that it had been seven years since she had passed away. Grief was peculiar like that… even after years and years of feeling it, some days it just felt fresh and new. Sad memories opened up the box of more memories, not all of them sad. The thought of gran was always accompanied by a warm feeling and memory of sunlit kitchen, and freshly baked bread.

This… dream or whatever it was had triggered more than just that… you could almost feel the whisper of Sam’s lips on yours. You had suppressed it so long that the feeling was almost forgotten now and how it ached knowing that you would never feel it again. The raw, desperate part of you tried to cling on to that feeling, the memory of his touch. It was three in the night, no one could blame you for wanting this comfort of your own memories. As painful as they were when you were completely in your senses, in this darkness, they were all yours to do what you pleased with them. However, like a dream, the memories kept evading your grasp. The more you tried to hold on it, the further away it slipped. Sleep eluded you completely after that.

Needless to say, you were tired and sleepy and irritated by the time the last lecture for the week commenced. You hadn’t memorised the lecture schedule yet…. you only knew when the Civil Procedure class was. First lecture on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and the last lecture of Thursday and Friday. Lacey had mentioned something about Sam having to travel to the City for work on the first three days. 

Sam was dressed more informally today. He was without a coat and glasses, hair just a little out of order… less sleek.

“Oooohhh looks like the professor had a rough night!” Lacey giggled.

“You don’t know that,” Madison shushed. “Maybe he’s single.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Lacey rolled her eyes. “He lives in the faculty residence on Alverado row. And his house is definitely a family house, not a bachelors pad… So that means he at least has a woman.”

You caught your breath. Alverado row was right behind your Santa Ynes street, where you lived. Literally right behind, less than a block away. You knew a majority senior faculty staff resided there, but it had never crossed your mind...

“I don’t see no ring,” snarked Rebecca, Madison's blonde friend, who was sitting a row ahead of you to the left.

You quickly looked. She was right… there was no ring. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Doesn’t have to be a wife,” Lacey made a face. “Could be just a girlfriend.”

“Whatever,” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t mean we can’t try our luck.”

It stung, listening to them talk about it stung more than you wanted to admit even to yourself.

“Before we start today's lesson, I have a question for you,” Sam said, calling everyone’s attention and the gossip promptly stopped.

“Basic Property damage,” he said. “The plaintiff has proved beyond a shadow of doubt that the defendant is liable. The only issue of debate which remains is the amount of damages to be recovered. Before the last hearing, new evidence comes to light about a completely unrelated matter where the plaintiff has unintentionally harmed the defendant. If you were playing the part of the DA, what would be your obvious course of action.”

‘Settlement’ you muttered to yourself, just loud enough for the few people around you to hear.

“Anyone?” Sam asked, and on cue, Rebecca raised her hand.

“Settlement!” She called out.

“That’s correct,” Sam said, “It should occur to you faster than lightning to draw out a settlement. Good job there. That was quick.”

Next to her, Madison was looking at her friend incredulously. Then she turned around and gave you a sorry look. The boy sitting on her opposite side, the blond one, who had snickered at you on the first day also raised an eyebrow.

You didn’t care one way or another if Rebecca got the praise for your answer. You were simply relieved that you got that answer right… and that you were able to concentrate in the class better than you had been able to uptil now.

Perhaps that was the reason that it caught your attention, the quickest flick of Sam’s chin in your direction, before he stiffly averted his gaze. When the class ended, few students rushed to Sam’s desk, while you made to leave the room.

“Hey!”

You turned to see the blond dude standing right next to you.

“Y/N, isn’t it?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Brad,” he offered his hand. “Brad Rowan.”

“Nice to meet you.” you murmured, shaking his hand whilst glancing at the door. 

“So, we have a party tomorrow evening,” he said, grinning with too much confidence. “Down at the western dorms. Everyone cool is coming. You should, too.”

“Thank you,” you said politely. “But I already have plans for the weekend.”

“Better than spending time with me?” He winked, stepping ever so slightly in front of you.

You were firm this time. “Yes.”

“Oh, let her be, Brad.” It was Madison, who had come sauntering down the aisle. “If she says she’s busy, she probably is. We’ll miss you, Y/N!”

You threw her a grateful look… Madison didn’t seem to catch it.

You said your goodbyes to her and Brad and left the room quickly.

Maybe it was your imagination, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam’s gaze flicker towards you… if only for one moment.

********************  

A/N 2: The next chapter is Sam’s POV ;) So we’ll finally know what’s up with him, huh ;)

PLEASE let me know what you think of this story?

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@feelmyroarrrr​  @gabavaldman​  @im-a-light-child​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @bllyjianne​  @hoboal87​  @i-is-for-inspiring​  @daughterleftbehind​  @wackiekebab​  @mylovelydame21​   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​  @superbadassnatural​  @bellastellaluna​  @babypink224221​  @badlittlehabit99​  @anathewierdo​  @sams-bubblegum-bitch​  @damnitnowimobsessed  @fandomoverdose666​  @superstarmarvel​  @atc74​  @transparentfestivaltiger​  @rebel-author-chick​  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​

[ruthlessminddribble]

Chaos Drawn to Madness- Ch 1

Butter’s POV:

Mysterion had become a bigger pain as of late. He had always shown himself at just the right moment, causing all of his planning to be for not. This time Chaos would be damned if allowed. He surveyed his fallen men, none of which had been wounded to bad. Strange it was when Mysterion allowed them off with only a few scraps. His way of giving warnings, as Chaos learned over the years. "General Disarray." Professor Chaos called out. If he was correct, this warning meant that Mysterion was suspicious without really knowing what was happening.

"Yes sir." Chaos caught sight of the young redhead limping over. He gave the boy a once over, covered in dirt and bruises starting to form on his skin.

"Did he find the drive?"

"No sir."

Good, it was just as he thought. Mysterion sent the warning as just that. His plan still remained in the dark; which meant they weren't out yet. "Get the men cleaned up." With a nod of acknowledgment from Disarray, he left the scene eager to put his plan to work.

Kenny's POV:

The next morning Kenny watched as Butters yawned at his desk for the 11th time. Don't get him wrong, it was the cutest thing he had ever seen and he could have watched the butterball yawn all day, but worry lingered in his chest. He was sure his warning would have been enough to put a stop to whatever evil the small blond was up to. The continued yawns were proof otherwise. "Long night buttercup?" Butter's flashed him a big smile, like he often did when he didn't want others to pry. So Kenny prepared himself for the small lie to follow.

"I got stuck on some homework." he gave a small chuckle.

Kenny watched as he unpacked his bag. Patiently he waited, expecting him to gush about last night's escapades with Mysterion and Professor Chaos. For a kid with an evil side, he sure was amazing outside the mask. Always making those around him smile and feel better. What Stan and the guys did to him during the time he was stuck in the afterlife must have really set something off in him. Even so, compared to most "villains" he ran into Butters never really got down right mad at him for stopping his plans. Often ending the battle with his usual "Aw hamburgers" before picking himself and his partner up off the ground and moving on to the next plan. Which was always less harmful than the one he would stop. Kenny often wondered what would happen if he ever told Butters that he was the one fighting him all this time.

When the bell signaling the start of the first period without a single praise from Butters about the fight made Kenny's nerves spike. He silently reminded himself that it was only the first class of the day but to keep an eye on the cute blond beside him, just in case.

Butter's POV:

Tired didn't even cover how he felt. The little sleep he did manage was spent tossing and turning. The rest was spent fine tuning his grand scheme. It was times like these that Butters missed elementary school. Not only was the work easier to understand, but the juggling of school and Chaos seemed like a piece of cake. He often thought about hanging up his villain cap and helmet and living a simple life as just Butters Stotch. But, South Park always gave him reason to keep going. Which meant that over the years, as Butters grew, so had Chaos. Deciding to keep to his strengths, hacking, allowing a more behind the scenes way to bring about the Chaos he so enjoyed. Butters was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the locker door till he ran into face first. "Thanks Butters." Token gave a smile before walking away, arms full of books. Butters waved before letting out a groan and rubbing his forehead.

"Butters?" The small blond turned to the silvery voice. Kenny was standing in its place, worry painted across his face. "You ok? That looked like it hurt?" 

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry. I guess I spaced out there for a moment." He watched his boyfriend's face shift into something he could read. "I'm really okay Ken. Promise." He gave him a big smile for assurance.

His face seemed to relax a bit. " Alright. Just let me know if you need anything." He gave a toothy grin back. Butters returned it with an eager nod as the bell sounded, making both boys run off to class.

Kenny's POV: 

Kenny sat at the picnic style lunch table, picking at some chipping paint. Butters had yet to show up and Kenny had tuned out Kyle and Stan who were chatting about the latest Terrance and Phillip show that aired. The noise around him had come to blend together into one giant white noise as he waited on the boy who was driving him nuts all day. The day was almost over and Butters had said nothing about the beating Mysterion gave Professor Chaos men the night before. Whatever he was planning, it was clear Butters didn't want him to know, which meant that he was powerless to stop him as Kenny or Mysterion at this point. It was Cartman's loud voice announcing Butters arrival that jarred Kenny from his inner thoughts. Kenny gave a bright smile as the small blond took a seat next to him. " How's the forehead?" He questioned. He watched Butters hand give a light touch to the spot he was hit earlier. 

"Doesn't hurt anymore. So, I guess that's good." Butters' smile lit a flame in Kenny's panicked heart. For now Butters was his normal sweet self and he couldn't have been happier about that fact. 

"So," Kenny turned his attention to the fat asshole sitting across the table. "So, Butters." Cartman tried to cover a laugh, which came out as a snort. "What's for lunch?" Kenny raised an eyebrow at the fat fuck. Before Butters could open his brown bag, he had already slid it over and was inspecting the contents inside. One normal ham and cheese sandwich, untampered with a bag of gushers, and one clean bag of chips to which he helped himself to. He slowly slid the contents back to Butters, confused. It wasn't until the sound of someone spitting their drink out that Kenny had caught on to the prank. But, it was too late. Butters had already had the foul liquid in his mouth. Kenny was up in a flash, diving across the table at a laughing Eric, the sound of his fist meeting Cartman's cheek echoed off the walls as the room around them went silent. Kenny turned to face Butters as soon as he was sure Cartman wasn't getting up. The poor blond was shaking, eyes wide. Grabbing the bottle of water left at his seat, he handed it to Butters and watched him down the new liquid as he rubbed his back and tried to assure him things were going to be okay.

Butter's POV:

The spray of liquid glistened under the florescent lights of the cafeteria. Butters watched, face pale, as the unknown contents fell to the table top. Lemonade wasn't supposed to be salty. Butters had no clue what he just poured into his mouth and he didn't want to. When the world around him came to, his Kenny was handing him a bottle of water. Taking a sip he gargled the clean water before spitting it out on the ground, not really caring about the fact he was inside. All he wanted was for the taste of whatever it was to be gone from his tongue. Once he was sure it was no longer there, he slowly started to down the rest as Kenny rubbed soothing circles on his back. As he finished the last remaining gulp, the teacher had finally decided to show up. Seemingly not being able to decide who was at fault for what, or what had just taken place, she ushered both Cartman and Kenny away to the office. This left Butters fuming, he didn't know what Cartman just pulled but it wasn't fair that Kenny was going to get dragged down with him. Butters decided he had had enough of that Fatass and his bullying. As the rest of the students went back to their lunches, Butter silently packed his things and left, missing the final two classes of the day.

Kenny’s POV:

Kenny sat in the plastic chair beside Cartman, who was now showing signs of his fist meeting his cheek. The two boys sat quietly as Mr. Macky stared at them silently. Kenny shifted in the chair to keep his butt from falling asleep. He couldn’t have cared less about being punished and wished Macky would just move this along. No, his mind was on Butters, who at this time could be anywhere. Beside him Cartman cleared his throat, “Well Mr. Macky, if there is nothing else, I suppose we should be going.” Eric stood from his chair and glanced at Kenny. “Shall we Kenny?” As Kenny moved to follow Cartman out the room Macky’s voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Sit down boys.” Cartman let out a groan as they both went back to their seats. “Boys, you’re both in 7th grade now. Don’t you think you should act like it, mkay?” Both boys looked at each other and shrugged. Macky let out a frustrated sigh. “ Alright, I’m giving you both three days suspention starting tomorrow. Mkay.” 

“Aw Weak.” Cartman crossed his arms and gave a pout.

When the boys left Macky’s office it was time for the final class of the day. Kenny ran past Cartman, who voiced his unneeded complaints, and headed straight for Butters classroom. He had hoped to catch the boy as he was exiting, but instead ended up bumping right into Kyle. Looking behind him Kenny noticed the classroom empty. “Butters left?” he asked Kyle between breaths. 

“Butters? I haven’t seen him since lunch.” Kyle replied. Kenny pulled his phone from his pocket as Kyle walked around him. Pulling up Butters number, he was about to hit the call button when the bell sounded. Reluctantly, he typed out a quick message and hit send as he ran to his final class. God did he hope Butters was okay.

Chapter 2

[pagingevilspawn]

Photographs

okay, so thanks to @doc-pickles and @iamtrebleclefstories i’ve been obsessed with with soulmate fanfics in this fandom and the stranger things fandom, so all idea credit goes to those two! 

its also been posted on my wattpad as part of my one shots book- to build a home. i’m not very good with links haha. 

A soulmate AU where on your 16th birthday, you receive three photos of your soulmate

____

His sixteenth birthday was honestly not something he was looking forward to. He knew his mom wouldn't be stable enough to cook him a cake like she had when he was younger, before her condition worsened to the point where nearly all her days were bad ones, unlike how it had been the previous year. He knew she wouldn't cup his face in her hands and softly speak, "Alex, my sweetest boy. My truest love." as she stroked his cheeks ever so tenderly. His dad wasn't around anymore, which he knew was a positive thing, well, he supposed it was.

But it was still the first birthday without his dad in it, and that thought made him sad. Not a lot, but a little. Just because all of his birthdays for the past nine years had been his dad telling him that he was a waste of space and a 'fucking idiot' didn't mean he didn't miss him in the smallest way shape or form. He was still his dad after all. The guy who brought him to the fair when he was younger. The guy who briefly taught him how to play guitar. And on the rare occasion when he was sober for about a week or so, would bring Alex out to fix up a pick up truck his dad planned to give him on his sixteenth birthday, but ultimately started using not long before his fifteenth.

He knew Aaron and Amber would maybe do something, but he knew there wasn't much they could do. They were only four and ten. They shouldn't do anything for their brother because he was feeling crappy about a day that didn't even mean that much to him.

Ugh. Birthdays. He thought they were really stupid. Why make a big deal out of the day you were born? Especially if nobody really seemed to care much about your existence.

That's why when he awoke on his sixteenth birthday he was surprised. He'd completely forgotten about what happened on the day everyone had told him about since, well... since he could remember. Some of the things people said to him when he was still was a small boy were nice and comforting, something that made him look forward to this special day, like "Oh, what a lucky women that boy's soulmate will be," was something he got often when he was younger, before his mom's schizophrenia and before his dad's substance abuse. He used to be a really sweet kid. He gave his lollipops to others who looked like they wanted it more, he shared his toys with people in the park. He talked and interacted with everyone from a young age. He was a cute kid too, he remembered. That's what people always said. They would pinch his chubby cheeks and ruffle his dark brown hair, which would lead to Alex giving them his signature crooked smile, which warmed the hearts of many. "What a sweet soulmate he will be.", "The special girl won't know what hit her!" , "He will treat her like a queen i'm sure." thats what daycare teachers and random moms at the park used to say to his parents, complimenting him on how well little Alex treated their daughters. While most boys his age we certain that girls had cooties, Alex just simply talked to him and played with them like they were just a normal person. Not to mention, what a little charmer he was. He was a flirt from the moment he was born. He told some girls he thought they were 'weally pwetty' and said he liked the bows in their hair or the outfit they were wearing. He had mad game. Even from the young age of four he had somehow even managed to completely charm his preschool teacher Ms. Ryan, who he thought was the most beautiful women to ever walk the face of the earth at the time (other than his mom). Ms. Ryan definitely favored Alex, always giving him extra treats at snack, or letting him out first to go to recess. Turns out, being thirty three and a four year old boy telling you on an almost daily basis that 'your dwess is supa pwetty Ms. Ryan' or 'i wike your hair vwery much' was a major confidence booster.

It all changed when he was five though, when his mom's condition was getting worse and his dad started using more and more and more. The situation just decreased as the years went on. Out were the compliments and looks of adoration and in rolled the dirty glares and not-so secret whispers. "What a poor girl to have him as her soulmate.", "I would hate for my daughter to be tied to him forever.", "Let's just hope his soulmate can put up with him." were the ones he heard instead. It used to hurt, but now he didn't mind. He didn't have any friends, any girlfriends, just some mere acquaintances. All he could really say he had were about half of the school's females tucked under his belt. Something he didn't actually care about. Sex was a defense mechanism. Sex made him feel wanted. If some girl was throwing herself at him, he took the opportunity. He felt like he was wanted, even if it was just for twenty minutes in some random parking lot.

He didn't really care for birthdays.

So, imagine his surprise when he woke up that morning to find an orange envelope on his dresser table. It was then he remembered. He remembered that the day of your sixteenth birthday you found out who your soulmate was.

He grabbed the folder so quickly it was like a flash of light. This envelope gave him hope. Hope that one day, someone would care about him. Because, that was the point of soulmates, right? A soulmate was someone who was made for you. Someone who would be okay with all the crap life had thrown at him. Some who would love you. Because, his soulmate would right? Right. She had to. He needed somebody. He really, really needed somebody. And his soulmate was his somebody. Hopefully.

With that thought he takes a deep breath and nearly rips the envelope open. He pulls out the three photos in it delicately, not wanting to even risk a crease or fold forming on the photos. He flips them over one by one.

The three photos.

Wow.

The three photos he'd been hearing about since he was a little boy.

The first one, as he had learned, is what your soulmate looked like on the day of their sixteen birthday, whether it be in the future or the past.

He feels stupid, really stupid. He was smiling like a god damn idiot.

She was hot, his soulmate. Really hot.

Her long brown hair was in gentle curls, natural he could tell. He knew what real curls were versus curling iron ones. She had bright golden eyes. He swore, they were like actual gold. They had specks of green, yellow, and honey. A little beauty mark sat by her right lip. And those lips? They were plump, full, and a bright pink. In the photo she was smiling. He really liked her smile. It was joyous, it made him feel happy, in a way he'd never felt before. He assumed she was laughing, based on the fact that her head was slightly tilted back. From what he could tell, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel. He liked that about her, the fact that she wasn't wearing whatever uncomfortable shit he'd seen some girls at his school wear. She looked like she was dressed how she wanted to and wasn't gonna let society or school cliques tell her otherwise.

He let out a small sigh as he placed down the photo delicately, as if he dropped it any harsher it would break like glass. He picks up the second photo, another smile gracing his lips as he studies it.

The second photo was always of your soulmate the day you met. Well, more specifically, the first time you meet. In his, the girl looked even more beautiful. Except now, she wasn't a girl, she was a woman, and that was obvious. Her face was a bit fuller, and instead of having her hair down this time, two strands of her dark locks were framing her face. He could tell she was in the middle of saying something, but her face wasn't frozen in some awkward position. It looked natural, like a well shot candid.

Alex placed down the second photo just as delicately as the first, setting them side by side. The third and final photo he wasn't quite ready for.

The last photo was a picture of them at their worst. When they had hit absolute rock bottom, before thirty though. Again with the age. Alex didn't get it. Why should they put an age limit on knowing your soulmate? Wasn't there a saying in wedding vows, "for better or worse"? and that was for married people for god's sake. So, why shouldn't he be able to see his soulmate at her worst? It made sense right?

Alex flipped over the photograph hesitantly, his breath getting caught in his throat.

He slams the photo down on the bed as quickly as he could, not being able to look at it any longer.

He understood now.

His soulmate was beaten and bruised, almost all her marks, scars, and bruises visible due to the nightgown she wore. In the photo she was crying, silent tears, he could tell.

He understood now, why they only let you see towards a certain age. Because what if it was worse? What if something worse had happened while his soulmate was older?

A horrible thought came to his mind, shaking it off immediately.

No, he did not do that.

He knew he didn't. He wouldn't. He'd seen his dad beat his mom again and again. He would never be like his dad. He swore on it.

But still, that lingering thought in his mind.

No.

Instead of thinking further, he picked up the first photo of her, the one wheres she is sixteen too. He studies it, knowing that by tomorrow the photo would be gone. Just like the others. That was how it worked anyways. The photos only lasted a day. The next morning, the pictures would be gone. All he knew about her would be her face, which he was going to imprint into his memory as best as he could. The universe seemed to enjoy playing games with people, so again after the one day, your memory of the photo was foggy. Very foggy. It wasn't until you actually met your soulmate when you would remember the photos you saw when you were sixteen. So, her studied her. Even laugh line, every beauty mark, every freckle (she had them sprinkled in every so lightly on her nose). He would remember it all, he told himself that. So that way when he saw her, he would know. But of course, forgetting was inevitable.

He smiles at the photo, biting his lip in a failed attempt to stop his smile from growing. It all seemed surreal to him. A soulmate. He had one? He, Alexander Michael Karev, a boy who had to grow up much younger than most, had a soulmate? Someone who would be okay with his crap?

The man was far from a romantic. He gagged at chick flicks and still felt uncomfortable when he saw any form of PDA, whether it be him or anyone else, but he swore, he thinks this girl would make him okay with everything. For this girl, he could see himself do anything. He would jump in front of a bear for her. No doubt. It didn't matter that he had never even met her. He just knew.

He shrugs the sappy thoughts away, scoffing at himself, in an attempt to not lose his 'tough guy behavior'.

Get a hold of yourself Karev. She's just a girl.

But even those thoughts couldn't erase the smile from his face.

____

On the night before her sixteenth birthday, she was anxious. Really anxious. And scared. She could barely sleep that night, tossing and turning without being able to stop in the backseat of her car. But she knew the envelope wouldn't come unless she slept, since it only showed up after you fell asleep. So, she squeezed her eyes as tight as she could like a little girl wishing to see fairies and let the exhaustion of the days events take over her.

As she awoke the next morning, she temporarily forgot everything. For her, it was jut another day, trying to pry her exhausted eyes open, her mind having a battle with her body. She makes tiny noises as she drifts towards consciousness, her brain foggy with jumbled words and half made thoughts.

When she does manage to open her eyes, she sees an orange envelope tucked into the car's window from the inside. She doesn't think much of it at first, her brain still not on the cognitive thinking side of things, until she wakes up a bit more, remembering the day it was.

She sits up with a start, grabbing the envelope and opening it carefully, but still so quickly that the photos were tumbling out.

She picks up the first from the deck. A photo of her soulmate on his sixteenth birthday. And damn, she was a lucky woman.

He had a sharp jawline, no scratch that, a really freakin sharp jawline. Like you could run your finger across and you would end up with a cut. His messy-yet-styled hair was a dark brown. He had a broad build, biceps pulsing out form the white t-shirt he wore, and a really freakin sexy half smirk. His eyes were a dark brown like his hair, but his eyes, they held something familiar. They held, loneliness. Longing. Exhaustion. That was a big one. At first glance, you couldn't tell, but she could see, behind the eyes of dark brown and bits of green, he was exhausted. Exhausted of what? She didn't know. But she could tell, since she was sure she had the same in her orbs too.  Loneliness. She felt that one too. But him? Lonely? He didn't look like the lonely type. He looked like the guys she saw at her school, the ones were girls falling at their feet and at least five different men to meet him every morning by the lockers to do a 'bro hug'. But she knew to not make assumptions. Longing. What was he longing for? A better life? Better parents? Better friends, better grades? She had no idea, but the look was clear in his eyes. But there was one more thing that shone in his seas of brown. Hope. The day of the photo was of the day of his sixteenth birthday. Could the glimmer of hope be for her? Could she be the cause of someone to believe. Probably not, but still, it never hurt to dream.

The second photo was of him the day they meet. And once again, she was a lucky lady. She couldn't quite see what he was wearing, but it looked to be some type of flimsy dark blue materiel. He had a half snarl on his face, but it didn't really look awkward, like she assumed it would on others. It looked natural, like he'd done it so many times before, it just came with ease.

He had the slightest bit of a stubble on his face, looking like he'd just shaved that morning or the night before, a bit more hair visible in the mustache area. His hair was a bit shorter than the previous photo, but not by much. It was better styled, but still looked like he had run his hands through it too many times to count. She sets the photo down next the the other one, taking a deep breath before flipping over the third and final photograph.

She intakes a sharp breath upon seeing the picture, tears pooling in her eyes at the sight in her hand. It was her soumate, lyig in a pool of his own blood, the red liquid coming from his chest.

He was shot.

In the chest, she assumed. That's where the most of the blood was at. She bites her bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. He was what seemed to be a metal box. An elevator? That seemed most likely. His blood stained clothes were previously a light blue, his hair shorter than the previous two photos.

The clothing, it liked familiar. Where had she seen them before? She racks her brain, trying to identify what her soulmate was wearing, purposefully ignoring the large sum of red surrounding the man.

A small smile graces her lips. Scrubs. She'd seen them on a few people when she went into town. So that meant he was doctor. Right? Or a nurse, but he didn't really look like he would be a nurse. And his scrubs were a different color than the ones in the precios picture. She assumed the clothing were scrubs in the second photo as well.

She swallowed thickly. It hurt. She felt the pain. The pain of her soulmate getting shot. It hurt like hell, and she wasn't even experiencing it first hand. But it still hurt. It felt like someone was grabbing her heart and squeezing it. It wasn't the same type of pain, but it was still pain nonetheless.

With that she sets the photo down. The fear starts to kick in then.

How would he soulmate feel about her past? He looked normal. Despite the loneliness and longing in his eyes, her looked normal.

What if she screwed it up? What if he couldn't deal with her crazy? She was Brooke. Hobo, car living, foster home, no parents Brooke.

She shoved the thoughts aside. He was her soulmate. The handsome stranger with the dark eyes that were somehow calming was her soulmate. Who knows, maybe he was just as screwed up as her.

____

Alex Karev had always been impatient. Ever since he was a little boy really.

So imagine how impatient he was when he was twenty nine years old and had still yet to meet his soulmate.

Her loved Izzie, and she had lost Denny, her soulmate. They made each other happy. They loved each other, she was probably going to die. He loved her, so they got married. He got married to someone who wasn't his soulmate. He had given up at that point. I mean, come on. Twenty nine years he'd been on this planet and he still had yet to meet his soulmate. God, he really wished he could just remember her face. He couldn't remember a single thing. Everything else from the day was clear, but the photos that held his soulmates face were a complete blur, nearly nonexistent. All he could remember were his feelings. He remembers thinking she was really hot. And he remembers feeling really happy. Too happy. He pushed the feelings aside. He loved Izzie.

And it hurt like hell when she left. They had their arguments, sure. But he loved her. He waited to kiss her because he wanted it to be special. He gave her a cupcake on her birthday because he wanted her to know she was loved. He wanted to let her know that she wasn't just another notch under his belt. He was a jerk, he knew that. He could be grumpy and he pushed people away. He guessed he pushed Izzie away.

He didn't know if he was ever going to meet his soulmate. He tried dating by and only had a list of failed relationships. And then the plane crash happened. He should've been on that plane, but Robbins boarded it instead. Maybe he would've been the one to lose a leg. Then Robbins would still be happy and making Alex gag at how in love her and Callie were. They were soulmates. It seemed like everyone had already gout their soulmate. Meredith had Derek. Callie had Arizona. Owen had Cristina, even though they had more than many disagreements. Bailey had Ben. Everybody had somebody.

Except him.

And that freakin sucked. So, he slept with the interns. Lots of them. Stacy, Tina, Irene, Brooks, Murphy. He'd pretty much given up on meeting his soulmate. At thirty-two he had still yet to meet the girl from the photographs.

So, sleeping with the interns and having non serious , inappropriate relationships with them it is.

____

She had always been impatient. When she was six she once punched a boy because one; he was being a complete ass, and two; he was taking too long to give her the crayon. he deserves it. he was making fun of her and purposefully trying to flatten the green crayon just to annoy her. he deserved the punch.

So when she met a man who treated her like a queen, who didn't beat her down for not having parents and living in her car she felt amazing. He called her beautiful and showered her with gifts and expensive foods. she didn't really care about that though, she enjoyed when he would delicately hold her like she was a porcelain doll. When he would greet her with a deep kiss after he came home from work.

She loved him so much that she agreed to marry him after only being together for eleven months. She knew Paul wasn't her soulmate, but a man who treated her so nicely, a man who was ever do handsome, wanted her? Who treated her with such love and tenderness, so what if he wasn't her soulmate. She was twenty three years old and hadn't met him yet. And if this amazing guy wanted her and loved her as much as she loved him, than it was okay, not being with her soulmate.

She held onto that love. She held onto that love for three years. Three years of beatings, begging that the man who showed her so much love and kindness would come back and stay.

Because Paul wasn't always bad. Some days he would come home and give her that breathtaking kiss as he walked through the door. Some days he still held her like she was a little porcelain doll.

Some days he did still show her that love like he used to that first year. But those days were few and far between.

She wished she had just waited. Gotten over her impatience for something real and waited. Maybe then everything would be okay.

Maybe one day she'll meet him.

....

She was no longer Brooke. No more with Brooke Stadler or the various names she took from all the different foster homes.

Now she was Jo. Josephine. Josephine Alice Wilson. It's who she felt like.

Jo. It was a bit old-timey, sure. But she liked it, the fact that she could probably confuse people who had only seen her name and think she was a boy. She didn't want to be a man, but maybe people would be surprised to see that all this well done work was actually done by a woman.

Jo was strong. Jo was powerful. Jo was the person she had always wanted to be.

She left behind Brooke. Brooke was... she was someone else. Brooke was a survivor. But Brooke was scared. Scared of everything. But Jo?

Jo knew Paul could find her. It would be hard, very hard. And he probably wouldn't, but now she wasn't scared. Brooke would've been scared. Brooke wouldn't been scared shitless. But Jo? No, Jo was far from scared. She was excited. She was eager. Because she had a new start. She got to be whoever the hell she wanted. She could go out and drink with her friends. She could go out and drink until she probably couldn't walk. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. She could wear whatever the hell she wanted. She could talk however the hell she wanted.

Because she was Jo.

But Jo did still want the one thing Brooke wanted. To find her soulmate. Sure, by now she knew that he probably didn't exist and the whole ordeal was just plain poppycock, but she wanted to find him. She really, truly, desperately wanted to find him.

She was twenty-seven years old and had a nonexistent love life. a few random hook ups from a bar were not included.

Maybe here. Maybe in Seattle she would meet her soulmate.

____

She was on Peds today, with Alex Karev. She hadn't  ever met the man before, but she had heard more about him than she cared to. Mainly from Leah Murphy with the occasional input from Heather Brooks. From what she gathered, the easiest way to label him was a man whore. So she wasn't really the most excited to be on his service for the week.

She'd been in Seattle for a month now, starting her internship as Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital. She was in love. Sure, doing scut all day and running labs wasn't much, but when she gets to observe from inside the OR? She felt like she won the freakin lottery.

The girl grabbed a trauma gown form behind her attending. "Do you mind" he snarls not even meeting her gaze as he turns around and heads to the ambulance bay.

She says she was sorry, but she doesn't think he hears her.

"Why are you following me?" she doesn't know why, but for some reason his voice gives her butterflies. She hadn't gotten a look at his face yet, but she assumed it was turned into a grimace.

"I'm your intern for the day." her voice sends tingles through him, shooting down his spine. He hadn't seen her yet, but her voice was strangely comforting.

"Hello intern you got a-" he starts, stopping as soon as he looks at her.

He feels breath get caught in his throat. no, surely he was imagining things. Right?

She feels like she can't breathe. That face. It was the same one as the one she saw on her sixteenth birthday. She remembers him. His sharp jawline and tiny bit of stubble.

And those eyes. she remember those eyes.

They held the same things as before. Loneliness, longing, exhaustion. But now, the tiny glimmer of hope she once saw was bright, not like the barely there she saw once before.

He felt everything in that moment. She was just like he remembered. Her long brown hair was swept up into a low updo, two dark strands framing her face. She had that little beauty mark by lip. And her eyes, they were truly everything. They showed him what she was feeling, surprise, disbelief, a bit of fear, hope. he knew his eyes were telling her the same thing.

They're not sure how long they're standing there in the middle of the ambulance bay, oblivious to the two other people next to them.

She wasn't sure how long it was until he broke the silence, a large crooked smile making its way onto his lips.

"Hi."

he whispers so delicately, like if he were to speak any louder the world around then would shatter.

She feels he smile widen, but now grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi."