#and you spend the entire next week biting your fingernails trying to guess how and why and by whom.

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

okay I actually drafted this post and didn't wanna post it but now I'm kinda twitching

Bioware drops minor 'spoilers' (mentions of what's going on on the larger scale of things half of which we already could infer from Tevinter Nights already) - how dare they.

Bioware apparently notices that some people are unhappy with even the most minor exposition and someone genuinely warns that there's more to come and if you're one of those people you'll probably want to tune out the entirety of it all - how dare they and that person in particular!

Like? I'm sorry, I guess I get the frustration if you want to be clean-clean, but there's only so many generic phrases that they could say without mentioning anything? At this point, like, the only thing they didn't show is CC - and then I guess, what, shut up till October?

But then when they do go quiet they get backlash for showing too little like in the 'companions week'. THAT was the level of exposure you want?

Dropping little hints and mentions of what's going on so that people can go 'holy shit what?!' and 'oh I wanna see what comes next!' and 'well dammit now I have to know' is a HUGE part of marketing. Like???

Like what else is there to show without showing anything. More screenshots? More generic descriptions of personalities? More combat out of context? Simply saying 'it's gonna be SO cool you guys'? Come on.

I mean I've been warned that the discourse(tm) will come back, but I didn't expect it to start from THIS. From people bullying creators off the Internet for a fair warning. Hello???

Lifting the embargo a month and a half before release is a very weird choice, I agree and I don't defend that one. But even with that aside, even with only just what was shown in gameplay reveals and such, people are being weird.

If you don't want to see or hear ANYTHING that could cue you in on what's going on - then it's on you to not watch or read shit (provided that it's tagged). I'm sorry.

[alexthedrummerboy]

For POV, if you haven’t done this already it would be really cool to see Willie’s point of view when he offered himself to be Alex’s date

(Also the story is fantastic and I can’t wait to see more! Hope you’re doing well!)

read piss off your parents (date me to scare them) to get the full picture of what’s happening here! (also thank u anon ur so sweet 🥺) also this got long so i put it under a read more!

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

scene: willie offers to be alex’s fake boyfriend for the holidays

Willie had just gone to the library cause he needed a book for his psychology final. Lord knows at the beginning of the semester, he hadn’t been about to spend $250 on a textbook that he was going to use for three months then never touch again (despite the fact that Uncle Caleb would’ve been more than willing to pay for it). 

When he walked into the library, however, the first thing he saw was a familiar face. A face that he missed seeing every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 9:30am. Alex Mercer. 

They’d sat next to each other for the entire semester and had even worked on a class project together and Willie had started to get a little bit... attached to Alex. He liked having him around. So, when class ended for the semester and he didn’t hear from Alex again, suffice to say Willie was more than a little bit disappointed.

Alex’s head was bowed as he stared down at a thick textbook, eyebrows furrowed and mouth set into a deep frown. The sight was so adorable it made Willie chuckle. 

He took his helmet off and shook out his hair before walking towards the study carrel Alex was sitting in, quickening his pace by just a touch. 

“Alex!” Willie watched Alex freeze in place before looking up, eyes wide like a dog who’d just heard his owner promise a treat. He chuckled and jogged over. 

“Willie! Hey!” Alex said, giving him a slightly manic-looking smile. It only made Willie smile wider.

"How are you? I haven't heard from you since we handed in our project and classes ended," Willie asked, resting his forearm against the wooden divider. 

Alex shrugged and fiddled with the corner of his textbook. “Busy with finals, I guess.” Willie noticed the way Alex’s eyes (not-so-subtly) scanned him quickly. 

He smirked. “So, um... have you figured out your Christmas situation?” he asked, biting his lip. 

Alex raised his eyebrows. “You remembered?” He hesitated for a moment after Willie nodded an affirmation. “Not really,” he said, tapping his fingers against the desk. “My roommates and I came up with a plan, but it’s kind of... silly.”

Oh, this oughta be good. Willie wiggled his eyebrows cheekily. "I love silly," he said. "Hit me."

Alex’s eyes scanned Willie’s face for a moment before he laughed and ducked his head, looking so adorable that Willie wished he could capture that face and keep it close to him forever. "Um... okay, basically, I'm trying to find a fake boyfriend who'll come home to Sacramento with me and help me piss off my parents."

After a few quiet moments, the true absurdity of Alex’s plan hit Willie. He began to giggle quietly, egged on my Alex joining in. "That's... that's a plan alright," Willie said, a high chuckle still in his voice. "I'm guessing you haven't found Mr. Right yet?"

Alex shook his head. "There's only a week and a half 'til Christmas and all my friends are booked up." He adjusted his cap and smirked. "Can you believe I actually considered asking Dr. Martin?"

Willie paused, looking down at the desk and tracing the scratches in it with his fingernail. Was he really about to do this? 

"I mean... I don't have a PhD but I've been told that I'm a pretty great date." Oh, he really was about to do this. 

Alex stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Yeah?”

Willie shrugged. “Yeah.”

[criminally--reid]

library lovers

I h8 the title- n e ways... here's the fix that's been promised to be posted at least twice a week for the past month 😌✋🏽also if u want untagged yk who u are smsbsj lmk,, i just thought id use the anon tag so u could see it snsbsj n e ways let's get on wiv d shit show

warnings: awkward chaotic gay, general smutty stuff y'know, mutual masturbation, i’ve never written mxm fic before so yonkers :| 

word count: 2.6k

Pairing: bi!spencer x (dom-ish)male!reader 

//a.n.\\ somehow the reader ends up in charge and i kinda like it tbh. i'm shit at storylines,  but honestly,, highschool homophobe masturbating with spencer reid? Call that character development 

`°•○●○•°`

You hadn't seen Spencer in years. Remembering the terms the two of you ended on, you weren't surprised either. All throughout highschool, you were the movie-esque tormentors of the frail, nerdy kid. The bully that wasn't actually supposed to exist. The absolute nightmare that had kids like Spencer trembling, dreading to relive the same terror another day. 

Shock couldn't even begin to cover what you felt the day you watched him walk into the library you now owned. You had been working on forgetting him since graduation. Just when you thought the remnants of Spencer had dripped entirely from your memory, everything came flooding in the matter of milliseconds the moment he walked through your door. All the times you watched him eat alone, pick his things up alone after someone had thrown them out of his hands; all the times you could've stepped up and just chose not to. You promised yourself you'd be different. Now was your chance. 

You subtly watch Spencer as he looks through the many isles of books. Beginning at young adult, trailing quickly to non-fiction, and eventually ending up in the classic section. He doesn't spend much time amongst the books - 5 minutes at the most since he walked in - before bringing a stack of 6 books up to the counter; you anxiously waiting to scan him in. 

"Did- did you find all your books alright?" You manage to ask. Spencer merely nods his head, crossing his arms and bringing one of his hands up to his mouth, chewing on his fingernails. His brows furrow and you're worried he's about to say something. 

"I'm a little surprised to see you working here actually." This throws you off. You did not plan for this- this confrontation. 

"I take it you remember me?" 

"I'm not really one to forget things, you know." Fair enough. 

"Well, yes. I actually run the place now. My grandfather had passed it on to me." 

"Oh he's…? I'm so sorry for your loss." 

Spencer's look of sincerity throws you off. After all the years of you being his worst fear, he still had room in his heart to be genuinely kind towards you. 

"It's fine, really. It was so long ago now. And besides- now I have this grand, ancient bookstore." You end with a chuckle and finish scanning the barcodes in each of his books. 

"Thank you- uh actually, could you help me find something else?"

"Of course! What're you looking for?" 

"Everyone keeps recommending me Donna Tart, where could I find some of her work?" 

"Follow me," you gesture and move from behind the counter. 

You walk him over to the very back of the store where all the dark academia-esq books are. While sifting through the books, he asks you a question that catches you completely off guard; his voice nothing above a whisper. 

"And I take it that you don't still hate me-" 

You immediately know what he's talking about. How silly of you to think the past wouldn’t be brought up.  

You clear your throat before speaking up. "I- n-no of course not. I- I uh- I know this is extremely cliche, and I'm not trying to excuse away any of the horrible things I did to you but- I was hiding." 

"From what?" Spencer chimes in quietly. 

"I just didn't know how to feel about myself. Gay this and gay that- it was all so negative. I didn't want to be known for something that was apparently so wrong. I definitely couldn't let the football playing circle jerkers I called my friends know about how I felt towards other guys. An-and I saw how they treated people like you and I didn't want that, so I joined them." 

"So you're gay?" Spencer asks, and you nod slowly. "And you and your 'circle jerking buddies' tortured me because you all thought I was gay?" 

"Well- I- we uh- that's what they said. I knew it wasn't good, but I didn't do anything because of what I was. I know the word 'sorry' will never make up for anything I've ever done or said to you, but I am so so sorry, Spencer." 

"You guys just knew I was gay? -Gaydar that strong, huh?" Spencer ends in a chuckle, easing up your tension, allowing you to slip out a soft laugh, too. 

"Obviously, it wasn't too good. I somehow managed to skate by for four years." 

"That you did." For the first time in years, when you look at Spencer, he doesn't look upset. A content, lazy smile accompanies his happy eyes as he. "Well- actually, I'm not entirely gay so I guess their gaydar needed some tweeking, hm?" 

"Oh, you're-" you attempt, but get cut-off. 

"Bi? Yeah. I realized I was bi when I realized I had a crush on you and your tenth grade girlfriend. What about you?" 

Still skimming the pages of a Donna Tart book, never looking up from it. So nonchalant. Him being so upfront with you was honestly exciting. You never imagined that you'd be remotely friendly with Spencer Reid, let alone him revealing he had a crush on you. "Ah, about junior year, I figured out I kinda had a thing for you." 

"Say, uh," Spencer started, tucking his hair behind his ear and slipping the book back onto the shelf. "I liked you; you liked me. Why don't we hang out sometime or something-" 

You could tell Spencer was trying hard to mask his enthusiasm. You were too. 

"Erm- yeah totally! I get off in about an hour actually; I could call you, and we could grab coffee or something." 

"Sounds great," Spencer says hurriedly as he fishes around in his pocket, drawing out a small slip of paper and drawing the pen from his shirt pocket. He hands you the freshly used paper with his number inscribed on it in smudged black ink. 

The next hour, excitement coursed through you. You're bustling around, fidgeting, unshelving and re-shelving books, sweeping, mopping - anything to keep your mind off of the end of your shift. The busiest yet slowest hour of your life. Your shift ends and your excitement reaches its peak. Your finger hovers over the call button at the bottom of your screen, hesitating. For a split second you get the courage to press call, but then you immediately regret it - that is until his hurried, excited voice slips through the speaker. 

"Hey, y/n! It's Spencer! Uh- you know.. that.. of course. Anyways, uh there's this coffee shop about a block away from my place. I wondered if maybe you'd wanna go and have an early dinner or something." 

You can't help but chuckle at his excitement; trying to calm down your own. "That sounds great, Spencer. What's the place?" 

"Café Negra-" 

"What?!" you cut him off "I go there all the time! How have I never seen you?" 

"What? That's insane. How have we not crossed each other there?" 

"No clue.. Anyways I'll meet you there- uh about 20?" 

"Perfect." Spencer hangs up without any formal goodbyes, but you couldn't care less - you couldn't wait to meet him at the coffee shop. 

The date - which neither of you bothered to assign that title to the event, but you both knew it was, in fact, a date - went impressively well. It's like you two had never been enemies in the first place. Those four years in high school wiped clean of any hard feelings as the two of you drank coffee way too strong for 6p.m., ate double chocolate muffins, and laughed away. 

When it comes time to leave, Spencer stands up first, throwing away his cup and muffin wrapper; you follow quickly and do the same. 

A mutual agreement was somehow made to take it back to Spencer's place. Maybe it was the lack of goodbyes that he seemed prone to. Whatever it was, the evening didn't feel finished. 

Once inside his cozy apartment, he welcomes you to his couch before maneuvering to the tv stand, kneeling down and pulling out three movies. He gestures for you to choose one, and you choose Titanic. Not the greatest choice of the three, but you had a feeling you wouldn't be focused on the movie too much anyways. 

He puts the disc into the player before joining you on the couch. About twenty minutes into the movie, he moves closer to you, resting his shoulder slowly, cautiously as if asking permission. You ease his nerves by welcoming his head on your shoulder and leaning against him in return. The next half an hour is full of stolen glances, light touches, and snuggling. All innocent until Spencer slides his hand up your thigh. You try not to mind it much. Maybe he's just absentminded in all the contact. He doesn't know what he's doing. You try to focus on the movie and not on his hand getting ever so dangerously close until you just can't anymore. Looking down at him, he's already making eye contact with you, driving you wild. Instinctually you connect your lips with his. 

Spencer shuffles over and straddles your lap, never disconnecting your lips. Your hands roam around his shoulders and back before dipping underneath the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. He makes quick work of returning the favor. After a few more chaste kisses, he stands up, pulling you up with him, and pushes his pants to the floor with you following suit. Spencer places his fingers under your chin, bringing your face up to his in an attempt to place another open-mouthed kiss on your bite-swollen lips. However, you muster up a burst of courage and manage to flip the script. Placing your fingers on Spencer’s chest and holding him at arm's length, you keep eye contact while you take a seat on one end of the couch. You motion for him to take his seat at the other end. 

Spencer, still unsure of the current situation, watches you move. He watches as you run your fingertips up and down your thighs. As you wet the palm of your hand with your tongue before running it up and down your shaft. Lightly tracing your fingertips over your reddened head, hissing at the contact. 

“Your turn,” you say barely above a whisper. 

Spencer’s eyes go wide, but he still obliges, wetting his hand and repeating your actions on himself. Hissing and cursing at the contact with his eager cock. He soon gets lost in his own world of pleasure. Moving faster and moaning barely-there profanities. Watching the show, you bring your hand back to yourself. Your eyes shut as you listen to Spencer; his pretty gasps like music to your ears. 

“Y-y/n? I’m- I’m close.” 

“Awh, so soon? You sure you can’t hold on for me just a little longer?” 

Spencer lets out a strangled moan and forces himself to slow his pace. Watching him struggle to contain himself turns you on even more. His desperate whines and pleas for release getting you closer to the edge. “Look at me, bubbas,” you coax. 

Spencer looks up at you, pushing a tuft of hair from his eyes. His other hand still desperately attached to the base of his cock, awaiting further instruction. 

“Listen.. We’re gonna cum together okay?” Spencer only manages a nod in response so you continue. “I want you to move faster again; get closer. But I want you to let me know when you’re about to cum, okay?” 

You’re met with a furious nod for an answer as he works at his waist, bringing himself closer to his climax; you simultaneously doing the same.

“F-fuck fuckfuckfuck! -M gonna cum. Shit! I’m cumming!” Spencer's cries of pleasure send you over the edge and you both spill over together. Your head dips back over the armrest of the couch as you try to catch your breath. You bring your head back up and look at Spencer, only to see him leaning sideways against the back of the couch, still out of breath and coates in a layer of sweat. 

“Why don’t we go get cleaned up, hm?” 

Spencer nods his head in agreement before getting up off the couch and leading you to the bathroom. You definitely aren’t going home tonight.  

[rvnclwrites]

Herbology Tutor (Talbott x Female MC)

A/N: Sorry I went on a hiatus for awhile. A combination of writer's block and a serious lack of free time has prevented me from writing, and I was pretty bummed after seeing Akkiarn's spoilers, which essentially confirm canon characters not being options for romance. Because of this and in honor of the latest side quest with Talbott, I decided to write a fic about him. Don't worry though, I will get back to Charlie x MC fics, as well as my current requests soon.

Word count: ~2100

"(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" (Y/N) said, her attention snapping from the blank piece of parchment in front of her to a disappointed looking Penny across the table. She rubbed her face, hoping to clear her foggy mind. "I'm really sorry, Penny. What were you saying?"

"That you need to get writing! This essay is due tomorrow, and you've never procrastinated like this before. I'm really worried about you."

(Y/N) forced a half-hearted smile, grateful for her friend's concern. "I'm okay. Go finish up your Potions project, I'll figure this out."

"Are you sure? I can explain the steps again if you want."

(Y/N) shook her head. If she hadn’t understood it the first two times, odds were a third wouldn’t be of much help either. "I really appreciate it, but I'll be fine. Promise."

Penny stared at her for a long moment before resigning. "Okay, but please come get me if you need anything."

As the Hufflepuff headed out of the library, (Y/N) grabbed her quill and began scribbling, intent on formulating at least a few meaningful sentences. It didn't take long though for her brain to stop working again. She angrily flipped through the pages of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, feeling a lump rise in the back of her throat. Why was this so hard for her? She had outstanding marks in all of her subjects, she should be able to figure it out by herself.

"You okay?"

(Y/N) jumped, startled by the unexpected voice nearby, and she was surprised to find a familiar pair of brown eyes peering down at her. "Oh, Talbott," (Y/N) said, placing a hand over her racing chest. How was he always so quiet? "Sorry, you scared me."

Without a word, he slid into the seat next to hers and as he continued to be silent, (Y/N) realized he had asked her a question.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to understand Self-Fertilising Shrubs." She rubbed her temples again and looked up to the ceiling, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation traveling up her throat and threatening to reach her eyes. She was not going to cry. (Y/N) never cried.

"Want some help?" He offered, scooting his chair closer to hers.

(Y/N)'s gaze trailed over to meet Talbott's. The pair had been friends for a few weeks now, playing Gobstones together and drinking Butterbeer on the weekends, but (Y/N) had always initiated it. This was the first time he was offering to help her.

Something warmed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach as she tried to decipher the look on Talbott's face. As always, he was a mystery; so tricky to read and it drove (Y/N) nuts. "You don't have to," (Y/N) said, biting her bottom lip. In all honesty, she really did want Talbott's help, but this was so out of character for him and she didn't want to put him out.

The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile. "I owe you for helping me find my necklace."

An unrecognisable feeling fizzed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach. Talbott had only smiled a handful of times in front of her and when he did, it always made her inexplicably happy. "Thanks," (Y/N) said, returning the smile. "I couldn't focus during Professor Sprout's lecture and now I'm completely lost. My Self-Fertilising Shrub wasn't too fond of me."

Talbott laughed and flipped through one of the books in front of them, stopping near the back. "Here," he said, pointing to a paragraph near the bottom. "This section better describes their purpose."

(Y/N) frowned, looking down at the book. "Why isn't this page listed in the index then?"

Talbott shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't write the book."

(Y/N) elbowed him in the shoulder before skimming the section. Within fifteen minutes, Talbott had helped her write three lengthy paragraphs on Self-Fertilising Shrubs and the uses of their fertiliser.

"This says to leave around two meters between each plant. Why do you need to plant them so far apart?" (Y/N) asked, glancing up from her textbook.

"They'll eat each other, and most other plants for that matter."

(Y/N) blinked at him. "Oh." She flipped to the next page and frowned. "This says nothing about the feeding or watering process other than they need a lot of it. How in the bloody hell is that supposed to help me?"

Fighting back another smile, Talbott stood up and gestured for (Y/N) to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you how to feed it."

"Are you sure?" (Y/N) asked, not wanting to take up any more of Talbott's time if he didn't want to.

Instead of answering, Talbott's fingers closed around (Y/N)'s wrist and he tugged her to her feet and toward the door, sending a trail of goosebumps down her arm.

Once they reached the Greenhouse, (Y/N) located her shrub from earlier and apprehensively began following Talbott's instructions.

"I can't believe it eats that," she said, scrunching her nose in disgust at the unmistakable pile of animal flesh on the tray. Using the levitation spell, (Y/N) thankfully managed to feed the plant without having to touch any of it. "Anyone who says plants are romantic is insane. I don't think we've ever planted a single attractive flower. No, instead we get to risk losing an arm to this thing."

"Hey, be nice," Talbott said before turning to the shrub. "She didn't mean that, buddy."

(Y/N) bit back a giggle while she filled up the watering can and noticed Talbott tossing seeds into a soil-filled pot. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry about me, you've got a shrub to water," he said while patting down the soil inside the dainty pot.

"Are you sure it won't bite me?" (Y/N) asked, her gloved hands trembling as she extended the watering can toward the plant. She may not have been afraid of most things, but (Y/N) had enough common sense to fear anything labeled as "flesh-eating".

"Yes, I'm sure. That's why we fed it first."

Trusting her friend, (Y/N) cautiously poured water onto the soil (not over top of the shrub, per Talbott's instructions) and watched as the plant didn't protest like it had earlier. Instead, it wiggled in approval before standing taller. "I did it!" (Y/N) said, grinning wider than she had after acing her last Potions exam. She dropped the watering can onto the table and without thinking pulled Talbott into a tight hug. "Thank you so much." Talbott's body stiffened against hers, and (Y/N) pulled back quickly, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable. "Sorry," she said, her face flushing.

Talbott rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, don't mention it. Seriously, don't- I'd never tutor anyone else but you and don't want people thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) laughed and felt that nagging sensation return to her stomach. She wanted to ask what made her special enough to warrant his attention but didn't want to make him start questioning it. "Deal."

(Y/N) began gathering her books from the floor and was caught off guard when Talbott asked, "So, why were you distracted in class?"

Straightening, (Y/N) felt that lump return to the back of her throat. "What?"

"You said you lost focus in class and that's not like you," he said, his attention still trained on the pot in front of him while he sprinkled the watering can over it. "Did something happen?"

(Y/N) dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, hoping to force away the emotion fighting to creep its way out again. She wanted to lie. She wanted to keep telling everyone she was just having a bad day and move on. But this was Talbott, and not only was he smart enough to see through any of her lies, he had also been trusting and vulnerable enough to open up to (Y/N) despite how hard it was for him. 

"I realized that today is-" (Y/N) took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Today is my brother's birthday."

Talbott froze before lowering the watering can back to the table and turning toward (Y/N). "Oh."

(Y/N) nodded, blinking fast. "I just- I've felt terrible all day because I didn't even remember until second period." She looked down at the books in her hand, hating the heavy ache in her chest. It usually came and went, easily dismissable, but today it just seemed to continue swelling like a balloon.

"I used to spend holidays locked in my room. I didn't want to do anything but sleep and be alone," Talbott admitted, causing (Y/N) to peer up at him despite her misty eyes. "My extended family thought I should go see my parents’ graves or share happy memories, but I would always refuse. I didn't want to be happy without them, it made me feel guilty."

(Y/N) nodded, quickly wiping her face with her sleeve as a tear leaked out.

"It took some time, but now I know that's stupid. Your brother would want you to be happy. You can't spend every second worrying about where he is or what's happened to him- that wouldn't help anyone."

(Y/N) breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the knot in her chest loosen a little at Talbott's words.

"Just like I can't spend my entire life forcing myself to be miserable. That won't bring my parents back. If anything, that's letting You Know Who win."

Despite her sniffling, (Y/N) forced a smile at Talbott, grateful more than ever that he was her friend. "Thank you- for everything." (Y/N) peered up at him innocently and his eyebrows raised in response. "Can I hug you again?"

Talbott laughed, shaking his head before bracing himself. "I guess."

With that, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Talbott’s waist and rested her head against his chest. "Thanks," she whispered, smiling to herself as the gap in her heart fill just a little bit.

At first Talbott was rigid again, but as she stayed there, (Y/N) felt his posture slowly relax against her and, for a brief moment in time, she could have sworn he even hugged her back.

"Tell anyone about this and you're dead," he muttered into her ear, causing an unfamiliar nerve to prickle at the back of her neck and send a tingle down her spine.

(Y/N) squeezed her friend one last time in response before pulling back, feeling for the first time that day that everything was going to be okay. "Thanks again for being my tutor. I really appreciate it."

"Stop thanking me," he groaned. "That's what friends are for, right?"

(Y/N) beamed at him but before she could respond, Talbott placed the small pot he had been fiddling with into her free hand. (Y/N) blinked at it, staring down at the single flower in front of her.

"There's a pretty flower for you. It's called a Moly."

(Y/N) just continued to stare down at the black stemmed, white petal flower, utterly speechless. Did Talbott Winger just give her a flower?

"It can counteract enchantments if you eat it."

(Y/N) gasped and pulled the pot defensively close. "No one is touching this flower, let alone eating it. You green thumbs are weirdos." She brushed the soft petals gently with her thumb. "How did you make it so fast?"

"I used to help my mom plant them all the time. They're really valuable to Healers, it's no big deal."

"It is to me." (Y/N) looked down at her flower admiringly. "So, how do I not kill it?"

Talbott laughed. "All it needs is water a couple times a week."

"Low maintenance, I like it. You know what, this is better than a friendship bracelet."

Talbott groaned again and started toward the door. "You're ridiculous."

"What? I finally have proof of our friendship," (Y/N) said, grinning.

"You know I'll deny it if anyone asks."

"I know." She glanced down at the flower again, unable to stop the flutters in her stomach. "Hey Talbott, would you show me how to plant this sometime?"

Talbott paused for a minute before briefly glancing over his shoulder at her and nodding. "Sure."

(Y/N)'s stomach flipped and she held the plant tight to her chest. She could definitely get used to having this new Herbology tutor.

[dxlansfxck]

Painting Flowers [G.D] - 07

Grayson didn’t know what to expect by now, following the girl that looked like a mess by now upstairs, still holding her hand. He was confused about going upstairs, Luna never told him what was up there, probably thinking it was only the attic. Well, Y/N taught him different as she quietly opened the massive door, motioning Grayson to step inside first.

The strong smell of wood and paint was flooding his nose while he looked around the mysterious room. It wasn’t just an attic; it was an entire gallery right in front of him. He was shocked how less he knew about Y/N, the girl he thought he loved, but he realized he knew nothing about her. Neither her favorite color nor about any of her talents.

“Y/N, I’m... speechless”, Grayson was searching for words, but he couldn’t find any to describe what he was feeling right know. “Can I look at them?” He was unsure about what he was supposed to do up here, not knowing if she wants to share her most vulnerable side with him.

Y/N just nods, nibbling on her fingernails while having an eye on Grayson. By now, she was kind of regretting bringing him up here. Most of her recent paintings were about him and her confusion about their relationship – if he would look at them, she was sure he’d find out what she really felt.

But that is what she wanted, right? She wanted to open up for him, giving him an inside of her world, about her feelings and everything she went through until now.

“I can understand if you don’t like them, I’m not as good as I wish I was..”, she mumbles while walking towards the window, a soft breeze coming through it – not strong enough to wipe away the smell of art. He turned around from the current painting he was looking at – a messy galaxy, colorful but also very dark. He loved the way she used all those colors and he realized how confused she must have been while painting it.

 “Shut up, Y/N. Those are incredible. Why didn’t you tell anyone about that? It’s a fucking talent and you should use it as much as you can!”

He then realizes where she must have been the entire last week. Another look around the room confirms his presumption. There was a mattress laying on the floor, dots and stains of color splattered on it. “Wait, have you been sleeping here?” Confusion but also shock was written on his face as he turns around to his angel in disguise.

“Well, yeah.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders while biting her lip in fear of a tantrum. “You need to understand, Gray. It is so fucking difficult for me to stay in the same house as you do, not being able to touch or feel you. I can’t even talk to you like a normal human being would because I’m so fucked up right now. This situation sucks so much, you don’t even understand.” Tears were slowly filling her eyes, but she looks up to the ceiling to not let them fall. She was not going to cry in front of him.

 “Fuck, angel, don’t talk like that. Don’t you think it isn’t hard for me? Seeing you with my own twin, hanging around, flirting and spending most of your time with someone that looks like me but isn’t me? Seeing you choosing someone over me that knows me better than I do? And I’m pissed at Ethan for doing so, but I’m also supposed to wish him just the best because that’s what a good twin should do? Well I can’t do that, Y/N. I can’t just watch you two doing your thing because I am the one that should do all those things with you. I should be the one that pushes your limits at the gym, I should be going out with you every time, showing you off to all the other boys that just wish they could fuck you the way I should fuck you. Not Ethan, Y/N. Me!”

Grayson’s voice got louder with each word he spoke, almost screaming at her, but his eyes were instantly filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Y/N… I’m just… tired of this situation? I don’t know how I am supposed to act in front of you. I know that I’m your mother’s boyfriend, but I am also so fucking crazy for you. Ever since I met you, I don’t even want to touch your mother anymore. Don’t want to sleep in the same bed as her and I’m sorry to say that I’m so fucking glad she’s gone right now, because all I want to do is be with you – and I hate myself for telling you that just now because we already missed too many days to spend without her.”

 Y/N’s eyes widened at every new confession Grayson just made, her frown growing bigger and bigger because she knows it’s impossible for them to be together in this life. “Gray…”, she whispers, but he just shakes his head. “No excuses, Y/N. Not today. We can talk about all of this as soon as Luna comes back home, but not now. Please. I want to get to know the real Y/N, not the one you pretend to be in front of us. I want to know about your favorite things, your hobbies, the music you listen to, everything. I want to take you on dates, I want to spend every free second with you. I want to make you feel how much I actually need you in my life.” He sits down onto the dirty mattress, patting the spot next to him. Y/N sighs but obeys. She could feel his warmth; she could smell his cologne and she could see all the hope in his eyes.

 Ask me why my heart’s inside my throat, I’ve never been in love I’ve been alone,

Feeling like I’ve been living life asleep, love’s so strong it makes me feel so weak.

Are you lonely? Our fingers dancing when they meet.

You seem so lonely, I’ll be the only dream you’ll seek.

  “To be honest, I don’t even know what to say. I never met my dad because mom didn’t feel like it was necessary, I guess. I went on dates with many older guys, even older than you are. I kind of slipped into the sugar daddy scene, not that I needed the money, but I loved the attention. I could’ve gone on dates with guys my age, but they’re just… disappointing and I never wanted my heart to be broken again. But once you came into our life – I knew I was in for another heart break. I needed to hate you, to disobey you, to try and get you out of our house again. I’m sorry for everything I did, Gray. Obviously it made me fall for you even more and once we did… what we did, I guess, I couldn’t do that to my mother. But once I saw her at the airport, making out with this other guy”, she looks Grayson dead in the eye, “She doesn’t deserve you, Gray. She’s using you, using your youth to make herself feel better. She’s a bitch for doing that, for cheating on you, but on the other hand… you’ve been doing the same.”

 “Wait, she did what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why did you keep that to yourself, Y/N? If that hoe cheated on me, I don’t have to feel bad for doing this.” With one swift motion, Y/N was straddling Grayson’s lap, his hands holding her butt as tight as they could, pressing her body into his. Their lips met, teeth crashing together, but neither of them cared, they were lost in the moment they tried to get weeks ago. They finally knew what they wanted, what they needed. And that was nothing but each other.

 Their tongues started to dance against each other’s, their hands were roaming their bodies without any rush, they’ve got time and they were going to take it. Grayson slowly loosened Y/N’s braids, letting her hair fall down her back, pushing the loose strands behind her ears before prepping her entire face with sweet little kisses, not caring about her smudged makeup or the tear stains on her cheeks. She was as beautiful and unique as her paintings and he wanted her to know that. Y/N was still just in her underwear, now regretting that she didn’t put her dress back on before coming upstairs. There wasn’t much to do to get out of this situation than sliding Grayson’s shirt off as well, leaving his perfectly sculpted body for her to adore. She traced his abs with her fingertips, grinning as Grayson shudders once in a while, head laid back and eyes closed.

“You like that, huh?” Y/N mumbled against his earlobe, slightly biting into it before leaving a trail of butterfly kisses against his jawline down to his neck and shoulders. “Fuck, I do and you know that”, the grip on her ass gets tighter the lower she gets with her lips. “I know you wanted to do that slowly, but this must be boring for you too, Daddy.”  

 So if you’re lonely, no need to show me  - if you’re lonely come be lonely with me.

Lonely, passion is crashing as we speak.

You seem so lonely - you’re the ground my feet wont reach. So if you’re lonely, darling you’re glowing.

 “God, I love you so much, princess”, Grayson groans while quickly removing her bra to connect his plump lips to her hardening nipples. “And I wanted to take my time with you, wanted to treat you like the good girl you were, but I just need to feel you so bad I can’t wait anymore.” With that, Y/N’s panties were gone too, Grayson didn’t mind removing his boxers, he just pulls them down to his ankles, his already hard cock leaning against his lower stomach. “Please, Daddy. Need you so bad.” “Mh, I bet you do, angel. Usually I wouldn’t just give you what you want, hun. Patience in key, y’know? But today as it is your first time riding Daddy’s dick, I’ll let that misbehavior slip”, he quickly slaps her left ass cheek, catching Y/N by surprise. “You should be really thankful for that, angel”, he whispers against her ear as he quickly enters her throbbing core, slipping in easily with one deep thrust.

 Y/N’s teeth dig into Grayson’s shoulder while one of his large hands is buried in her messy hair, tugging her closer to him. The other hand leads her movements, rocking her back and forth on his dick, making her take all of it. Porn-like moans were echoing through the room, pants and grunts leaving their mouths but neither of them were able to do their usual dirty talking. They were too lost in the moment, clinging to each other and their movements get slower with each thrust Grayson did. Y/N lifts her head, looking Grayson deep in the eyes. “I love you, Gray.”

“Fuck, I love you too, angel. You know that”, he holds her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs while kissing her with all the love and passion that is left in his heart. “I’ll make us happen, alright? We’re going to go through that because all we need is us. We will be together, Y/N. We will move out, have our own life and family. You won’t need to live with Luna if you don’t want to”, he leans his forehead against hers, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll always be there for you, angel. I won’t let anyone break you ever again.”

 Tears were streaming down both of their faces as Grayson began to move his hips again, bringing them to one of their most intense orgasms they’ve ever experienced – but they received so much more that day.

Love, passion, a shoulder to cry and a shoulder to laugh on, their soulmate. And suddenly both of them knew that the future will be as bright as the next painting Y/N will be drawing. Full of sunshine, full of hope and full of them taking care of each other.

 Underneath the pale moonlight, dreaming of a circus life. Carousels and Ferris heights  - I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine. ‘cause I’m lonely, I’m so lonely and if you hold me I’ll be your only.

[glorious-spoon]

Hostile or Destructive Action

Fandom: Captain America Rating: Teen Warnings: Referenced rape/non-con Summary: The tapes of Captain America being abused in Hydra custody hit the internet. In the aftermath, Steve has to make a choice. Inspired by @shinelikethunder‘s fic The Interests of National Security. Link: On AO3

*shows up to the dumpster five years late with hurt/comfort*

*

He spends the four-hour flight into Dulles breathing canned air and trying to feel like he’s not about to shake apart into pieces. It seems like every single damned person on the flight was within earshot of that checkpoint, and the few who weren’t have evidently been caught up, God bless cell phone cameras and the 24-hour news cycle. He hasn’t bothered to turn his phone back on; it’s too easy to guess the contents of his inbox, and he doesn’t feel prepared to face that just now.

No one manages to get up the guts to say anything, but even without looking up from his book he can see three people with their cell phones out, and they’re not even trying to be discreet about filming him. He flexes his fingers, entertains a brief fantasy of snatching the pink kitten-themed phone away from the woman across the aisle and crushing it into dust—but pitching a fit mid-flight won’t improve the situation any, and it also won’t actually make him feel any better.

He’s read the first two pages of Foundation six times in a row before he accepts that even intergalactic space wars aren’t going to be enough of a distraction, but he doesn’t close the book, just grips it in his lap until his fingernails have left deep divots in the paper.

*

He didn’t call to let anyone know that he was on his way back, but Natasha meets him at baggage claim anyway. One moment he’s alone, waiting for his battered suitcase to make its way over so he can get the hell out of there already; the next, there’s a whiff of strong coffee and expensive perfume, and she says, “You should consider answering your phone once in a while.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you,” Steve snaps, yanking his bag off the carousel and slinging it over his shoulder. The weight of the shield settles heavily against his back, comforting. There’s a trio of middle-aged tourists on the other side of the carousel blatantly staring at him. He gives them a tight smile and looks away.

Natasha is silent for a long moment, then says, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

It’s quiet and sincere, and Steve finally brings himself to glance down at her. She looks tired and drawn, and it occurs to him that this can’t have been easy on her, either. On any of them.

He sighs. “Sorry. How bad is it?”

He can guess, but he hasn’t been able to bring himself to look at any of the newsstands he passed on the way through.

“Bad enough. Stark Industries is running interference.”

“Remind me to send Tony a fruit basket,” Steve says dryly. “Can we get out of here now? I’d rather not have this conversation in the middle of an airport.”

Because she’s Natasha, and she’s kinder than anyone ever expects her to be, she nods. “Yeah. Come on, Sam has a car outside.”

*

The car is clearly on loan—or possibly stolen—from SHIELD, a sleek black SUV that could probably drive through a tank. Steve slings his bags in the trunk and slides into the backseat. In the driver’s seat, Sam twists to look back at him, lifts his sunglasses, and says, “Hey. Welcome back.”

“Hell of a welcome,” Steve says. “When were you planning on letting me know?”

Sam sighs. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for a week, Steve.”

“I’m sorry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, tries to rein in his temper. Biting Sam’s head off isn’t going to help anything. “I’ve had a rough day.”

“Man, you’ve got a real gift for understatement.”

The other door opens, and Natasha slides in. “We’re clear,” she says to Sam, then adds, with a glance back at Steve, “Reporters.”

“Assholes,” Sam interjects, pulling away from the curb.

Natasha puts her head back against the seat cushions and closes her eyes. “I took care of them.”

Steve knows his line here: You can’t just assassinate everybody at the Washington Post, and she’ll smirk a little and say, Who said everybody?, but when he opens his mouth, what comes out instead is, “Are they real? The pictures?”

There’s a long, thick silence, and then Sam clears his throat. “We don’t know,” he says. “Not for sure.”

Steve looks at Natasha, who doesn’t look back. After a long moment, she says, “Probably, yes. But the only person who’d know for sure is—”

“Me,” Steve finishes, bitterly. “Maybe Bucky, if he remembered any of it.”

He doesn’t have to see Sam’s face to hear the wince in his voice. “Steve—”

“Never mind. God.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

For the first time since he left Wakanda he’s glad—horribly, guiltily glad—that Bucky is still in cryostasis while the doctors there sift the rest of the hidden triggers out of his brain. Bucky doesn’t remember. He would have said something if he did. Bucky—and he is Bucky again now in all the ways that matter, even if he and Steve will never be what they used to be to each other—he would have found time to say something. To offer an apology, as little as Steve needs or wants one.

In the grand scheme of everything Hydra forced Bucky to do, that was nothing. But Steve’s glad, all the same, that he isn’t going to be finding out from a fucking media scandal before Steve figures out a way to break it to him.

“He’s not in any of the pictures, anyway,” Natasha says calmly from the front seat. She leans forward and comes back up with a file folder, which she hands back to him. “Here.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Sam asks, but Steve takes the folder. There’s not gonna be anything in there that he doesn’t revisit in full Technicolor detail in his nightmares on a regular basis. All else being equal, he’d rather know what he’s up against.

“They didn’t bring out the cameras until after Pierce left.” Small mercies. The smallest. He’s glad of it all the same. “Guess it’s hard to claim plausible deniability if you’re caught on film raping prisoners.”

Neither Sam nor Natasha flinches, and Steve loves them for it. He flips the folder open as the car accelerates onto the freeway. The top page is a memo on CIA letterhead, detailing the source and particulars of the leak: as expected, a Hydra agent’s phone that had never uploaded to the mainframe, all the nasty little secrets in its video files stumbled across by some analyst who looked at some of the worst moments of Steve’s life and saw only dollar signs.

The next page is briefing notes. Then newspaper headlines, or a sample of them: he could find a more up-to-date selection if he wanted to check the news on his phone, which he damn well does not.

Underneath that, the pictures. Black and white, at least, although he knows the video must have been released in full color. On these printouts, the blood smeared on his skin, down his thighs, pooling on the floor beneath him—it all looks gray and colorless. Like pictures from the war. Less shocking, somehow, than the reality of it.

He flips the folder shut and sets it on the seat beside him. “They’re real.”

Sam lets out a slow breath, and Natasha nods. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees as the city whips by outside the window. All crumbling concrete buildings splashed with graffiti, railway tracks stretched overhead.

“You don’t actually have to do anything,” Sam says. His tone is caught between gentleness and resignation, as is the smile he tosses over his shoulder at Steve. He knows that doing nothing isn’t really in Steve’s repertoire, never has been. Steve could kiss him right now. Half wishes he’d gotten up the courage to try it back before Insight, before everything came crashing down, both literally and figuratively. That particular ship has long since sailed now, but even so, Sam is the kind of friend he’s never deserved. Him and Natasha both. “You could just tell them to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

“The entire free press of the US of A?” Steve says, and drops back in his seat. “Come on. They’ve probably staked out my place by now.”

“They have,” Natasha says. “That’s why we’re not going to your place. I have a safehouse outside the city. Should be secure. We can regroup and���”

“No,” Steve says. “I’m not hiding.”

Sam huffs out a dry laugh and then says, to Natasha, “Told you.”

“Worth a try.” She leans back to look at Steve. “You sure about this?”

Steve takes a breath, and it’s not the cell he’s thinking of now, it’s not Bucky’s hands holding him down or Pierce unzipping the fly of his expensive suit or the team of guys he led for two years kicking him, spitting on him, slicing him open and jeering while they took their turns with him—

Instead, it’s the utterly prosaic scene of the airport this morning. The little indignities of it that everyone there just seemed to expect. Turn out your pockets. Stand on a mat and let a man in uniform put his hands all over you, and if you have nothing to hide you have nothing to fear.

Liberty for security. To hell with that.

He closes his eyes. The peace he managed to find out in the mountains seems very far away, just now. “I’m sure. If the press wants a statement, I'll give them one.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Charming Instruction

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: You were just an average, everyday college student desperately trying to graduate. Only one more year stood between you and that celebratory walk. However, due to an oversight by your adviser, it seemed that the one class you never wanted to take was required to take that walk. It wasn’t the subject matter that made you uncomfortable. It was the teacher. Your heart sped up every time you saw him and you didn’t want that distraction in your life, attractive or not. With meeting him now an inevitability, you swore that you would keep your hormones in check. But after your first day of class, a series of hi jinks and weird situations lead you to discovering the secret of your professor and why he seemed to bombard your every thought.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I Final

**

Your heart was still racing when you closed the door to your apartment. Raising your hand to your chest, you felt the drum beat keep a steady pace that was well above its normal rhythm.

He’d almost kissed you. He’d almost kissed you.

That had to be what he was doing, right? With the closed eyes and forehead touch? And, oh, god, did you want him to kiss you. How many times had your imagination fluttered in that direction when you weren’t keeping it in check?

Gemma and Cam were lounging on the couch watching some drama on the television and hadn’t caught on to your presence until now. The former tilted her head at you, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, jumping up from her spot and walking over to you. Out of instinct, she reached out and placed the back of her hand against your cheek. “Why are you so warm? Are you getting sick?”

You shook your head adamantly. “No, I’m fine.”

Taking a step back, Gemma smirked. “Okay, I know we silently agreed to not bring it up anymore, but did something happen with Junie?”

“O-oh, n-no, I, um, I just – no, you see-” Coherency apparently was a skill that had now left you entirely. An efficient enough lie couldn’t be conjured up and you were stuck as a stuttering mess.

Cam was giggling into her mug over on the cough, smartly pressing her lips together and keeping her comments to herself.  You threw her a glare, but stayed quiet, knowing that whatever biting remark you could come up with would just come out choppy and useless.

“Did he kiss you?” Gemma asked excitedly.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No. But he almost did.”

Your admission cause Cam to accidentally swallow her drink down the wrong pipe, throwing her into a coughing fit. When she was finally able to breathe again, she screeched, “What do you mean he ‘almost did’?”

You started fidgeting with your fingernails, absentmindedly digging out the nonexistent dirt from underneath them. “Well, he was leaning in, but then a couple walking their dog came by, so he pulled back.”

Gemma and Cam gave you identical dumbfounded looks. It was actually quite comical, but you were able to hold back the chuckle building in your throat.

“So, basically, what you’re saying is that he didn’t want to be seen kissing you? Like he was embarrassed?” Cam inferred with a particularly curtly tone. She even slammed her mug down on the side table for emphasis.

You wanted to argue that that wasn’t the case. At least, you were pretty sure that wasn’t the case. They didn’t know that “Junie” was actually your professor and if he’d been seen kissing a student by the wrong person, he’d be in boiling hot water. And even if you were brave enough to confess that little secret to Gemma and Cam, you couldn’t be entirely sure how they’d take it. Cam might smirk at the sneakiness and forbidden aspects of it all, but you could only guess how Gemma would take it. You’d didn’t think she’d exactly be jumping up and down with excitement.

“I don’t think he was embarrassed,” you said meekly. “I think it was just the surprise at the couple’s presence. We were at the park and there wasn’t anyone else there at first.”

“Hm,” Cam pursed her lips, giving you the feeling that she didn’t entirely believe it. “Okay.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just a little flustered, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Gemma patted your head gently. “Okay. Just let us know if you need us to kick his butt.”

That truly managed to make you laugh. While you could see Cam really trying to throw a punch at Junmyeon’s face, you couldn’t imagine for a second the gentle Gemma trying anything to physically harm him. She’d probably instead start lecturing him on the possible psychological damage his actions could have caused you. That was much more her style.

“Thank you,” you smiled at your friends. “But I’m okay. I promise. He’s not going to do anything.”

You actually believed that last sentence. What happened back at the park was probably just a fluke, brought on by the heavy subject the two of you were engaged in. Junmyeon probably didn’t actually want to kiss you because he liked you in that way. He had a mate to find, remember? It was easy to get caught up in the moment. That couple was actually your saving grace, keeping the two of you from doing something you would regret. Yes, that was it.

At least, that’s what you would keep telling yourself.

**

Junmyeon was anticipating seeing you in class today. He wanted to see you again. He wanted to see if he could get you to agree to meet up with him, maybe take you for a run in his wolf form. You’d turned him down last time, but maybe he could persuade you.

Just a little bit of alone time, that’s all he was asking for. A place where you wouldn’t be interrupted, where he wouldn’t be scared of being seen by the wrong person. A place where he could build up the courage to try and kiss you again.

Maybe his plans were getting too elaborate.

He was sure he was getting close to being able to tell you everything. Hearing the way your heart was beating as he leaned in last night was a beautiful melody that he would never get tired of listening to for the rest of his life. And you would have let him kiss your lips. That was the strike that lit up his little match of hope after you’d been pulling away from him.

There was a lightness in Junmyeon’s steps as he headed towards the classroom. Sure, he was an idiot, but wasn’t everyone a fool in love?

Yeah, he could definitely say he was falling in love you. He felt elated when he could make you smile. He loved watching that sparkle in your eye when you were mesmerized by his family’s artifacts. The way you would clam up when you were flustered or the way you could read into the cultural significance of the fairytales he was lecturing on. You paid attention and listened to him on a level that he wasn’t used to. He wanted to get to know every single facet of who you were and fall deeper in.

You were already there when Junmyeon walked into the classroom. He nearly exploded when he saw that you were back in your front row seat, materials out and ready to start the period. No one else was around you and the other students that were scattered among the room were too busy talking to each other or scrolling through their phones to pay too much attention.

As calmly as he could, he walked up to you, earning your curious gaze when he reached the long, curved table where you sat.

“Can I see you after class?” he whispered. When you nodded, he simply smiled before walking back to his desk.

He was practically bouncing with anticipation throughout the whole lecture. It was a stupid thing to be excited about, but he couldn’t help it. Part of him always expected to be rejected whenever he asked you about staying back or meeting up with him. But you never told him no once he was finally able to ask. You would avoid him at times, not giving him the chance to say one word, but hopefully those times were behind him.

As class came to an end, you continued to just sit there in your seat as all the other students filed out. Junmyeon busied himself at his desk, pretending to go over lecture notes and piling up the quizzes he’d collected at the beginning of the hour.

“You wanted to see me?”

With his back still to you, Junmyeon smiled widely. Your voice was quiet and unsure and he couldn’t help but find it adorable. Turning around after he was able to get his face under control, he started, “I was, um-” he cleared his throat. Smooth, Junmyeon. “I was just wondering if you had any plans Friday afternoon.”

You frowned guiltily. “Well, yeah, actually I do. Midterms are next week, so I’ll be spending the weekend studying. I have a big test on Monday.”

Junmyeon deflated. He’d completely forgotten about that crucial part of the semester, second only to finals. “Oh, right. Hm.” Racking is brain, he tried to come up with some sort of solution. The next meeting outside of the classroom would have to be on your terms. “May I see your phone?”

“M-my phone?” you stammered.

He chuckled. “Yes. The cellular device you used to talk and text.”

By the look on your face, you didn’t entirely appreciate his comment, but you fished your phone out from your back pocket, unlocking it before handing it over. Junmyeon quickly added in his contact information before giving it back to you.

“There,” he sighed. “Now if you find yourself a little bored or needing a break from studying, you can get ahold of me. I’ll be free all weekend, if you change your mind.”

Your eyes were wide, filled with innocent surprise. “Okay…. I’ll, um, let you know. I should head to my next class now.”

“Of course.” Junmyeon watched as you hurriedly ran up the steps, tripping only once as you dashed away. The chuckle bubbling up in his chest couldn’t be held back anymore as he piled the papers scattered on the desk together and left the lecture hall.

Since he didn’t have another class until later in the afternoon, he headed back to his office to get started on grading the ever growing pile of quizzes that he’d been putting off. It took him a good hour and a half to get through the multiple classes’ worth of grading and plug the results into the school’s site. His eyes were beginning to glaze over and he was already looking forward to when he could head home.

Knock, knock, knock.

Junmyeon perked up at the sound. Did you, perhaps, change your mind to come see him?

“Come in,” he called out, hurrying to clear out the papers from his desk.

But it wasn’t you that slowly walked through the door.

It was Soomi.

Standing up from his desk, Junmyeon rushed over to the door, glancing up and down the hallway to make sure it was empty from any nosy gossipers before closing the door and turning back around.

“Soomi, I told you-”

She put up a hand to stop him. “I’m not here for that. I’m here on business.”

“Business?” Junmyeon frowned. He walked back to his desk, sitting down taking off his glasses. “What do you mean?”

Soomi didn’t sit down, opting instead to keep standing, arms folded across her stomach. She sighed. “Nia had a vision.”

Junmyeon couldn’t understand what was so important about those four little words. “Who’s Nia?”

“She’s my trainee,” Soomi explained. “She’s one of the few among the witches that can receive visions without casting a spell.”

“They just come to her?” Junmyeon didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

“Yes,” Soomi confirmed. “Poor thing still isn’t able to completely handle them when they come on nor be able to control them. We’re working with her on them, but it’s still touch and go.”

Junmyeon nodded sympathetically. “And what did Nia see?”

“Something is coming.” The way Soomi lowered her voice and stared at Junmyeon made the hair on his arms stand up.

“What’s coming?”

Soomi shook her head. “Nia couldn’t see. It all came in flashes, she said. She couldn’t get a clear grasp on what she was seeing. But there was strong emotion with it. Fear, terror, the need to protect. She collapsed after it was over, the vision was so forceful. Something is coming for the pack and you must be prepared.”

There wasn’t anything Junmyeon could really say. A vague notion didn’t give them a good foundation on how to proceed. Until there was more information, there was very little they could do to prepare.

“I appreciate the warning,” Junmyeon sighed. “I’ll talk to the boys. I’m sure it won’t be anything that we can’t handle. We did take out a pack of hybrids.”

Soomi kept her gaze down, licking her lips as if she were trying to get the words she was holding back to slip out. She rounded the desk, carefully hopping up to sit on the now cleared table top. Taking Junmyeon’s hand in both of hers, she stayed quiet.

Junmyeon wanted to pull away, to tell Soomi to please get off his desk, but the gentleman in him just couldn’t find a nice way to say it. He’d instead let you say your piece and leave.

“Junmyeon,” she whispered, “I know you've found your mate, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you just go away. I don’t want anything happen to you.”

“I appreciate that, Soomi.” Out of politeness, he squeezed her hand, before starting to pull away, “But, I think-”

“Junmyeon- oh.”

Shit.

**

Why did it have to be you?

Why did you have to make stupid decisions? Let yourself hope on useless things?

It had seem at like a good idea at the time. Yes, Junmyeon had give you his number, but it felt a little silly to text or call when you could just… see him.

So, after your second class of the day, you headed off to the professor’s building, telling yourself that if he wasn’t there then you would text him. You were sure you could carve out the time to spend a little of Saturday afternoon with whatever he’d had in mind. At first, you’d thought that maybe you’d see if Saturday morning would work, but you knew that if you did block out the morning from him, you’d be too tempted to spend the entire day with him.

When you reached Junmyeon’s office, you hadn’t been thinking that he might not be alone. The sign outside his door didn’t indicate he was with another student so, like an idiot, you just opened the door. And your heart didn’t just sink.

It cracked into a million pieces you didn’t believe would ever be put back together again.

Soomi was sitting on Junmyeon’s desk, holding his hand while looking down at him with that look you knew all too well.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I should have knocked.”

Junmyeon jumped up from his seat. “No, (y/n), wait-”

You didn’t stick around to hear whatever explanation he’d felt the urge to give you. You didn’t need one. It was none of your business and you needed to get out of there before either of them saw you break.

Once out of the building, you didn’t stop running. Only when you reached the crosswalk off of school grounds were you finally forced to stop. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you wanted to just sprint out into the street to get to the other side, in case someone actually decided to come after you. The chances of that happening were slim to none, but you let the thought linger anyway.

Safe inside your apartment, you threw yourself down on your bed and let the tears flow free.

For the next several days, you just stayed there in bed. Not even the urgency of midterms could coax you out of your room and onto campus grounds. You only crawled out of bed when your roommates were gone to use the bathroom and grab snacks so you didn’t starve to death. Other than that, you simply lied there and stared at the wall, playing the scene of Junmyeon and Soomi over and over. Your phone rang several times, but you never answered it or even bothered to look to see who it was. You had a pretty good inkling and you didn’t feel like talking to him.

“(y/n)?”

It was Friday night and Cam and Gemma had more than caught on to the fact that something was wrong. Both of them tiptoed into your room and sat as carefully as they could on the bed.

“Hey,” Gemma greeted softly. You barely peeked out from under your covers. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

You shook your head, too ashamed that you were falling into the same pattern of hopelessness that you’d experienced your freshman year, only this was a hundred times worse. Back then, you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, you just had to pick yourself up and walk towards it. This time you felt like you were lost in a cold, dark cave with no idea which way led out.

“We’re going to go to a party,” Cam informed you as she rubbed your leg in a motherly fashion over the covers. “I think you should go with us. Maybe take your mind off of whatever happened?”

“I don’t think a party is the solution,” you grumbled.

“Not a solution,” Gemma chimed in. “Simply a momentary distraction. Why not show the world that you’re strong and don’t let temporary setbacks or people who aren’t important keep you from living your life?”

With a huff, you flipped the covers off of your top half, letting you stare at your friends. “I’m not a huge supporter of drinking away your problems.”

Cam shook her head, “That’s not-”

Flinging up into a sitting position, you stopped her, “But, this one time, I can give into to the idea and live a little like a college student for one night.”

The grins that grew on your roommate’s face were scary and almost made you change your mind, but you couldn’t go back out now. You’d tried the wallowing around in bed doing nothing and that didn’t really work to ease your pain. So why not try the other extreme? You’d already had your heart broken. What was the worst that could happen?

[justauthoring]

Good Enough Reason // Liam Dunbar

Hey! I have a Liam Dunbar x reader request where Liam broke up with the reader because he wanted to protect her.. Like, she dont know anything about the supernatural stuff .. then Liam starts dating Hayden (but he dont like Hayden) and the reader thinks thats the reason why he left her.. I guess you can finish it (?) thank you so much darling

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Word Count: 1,210

-

“I just don’t understand...”

Sighing, you slid your book into your locker, shaking your head. “You’ve said that everyday since he broke up with me.”

“Well, excuse me for being concerned for my best friend,” your friend, Jenna, sighed, leaning against the locker to your left. She turned her head slightly, gazing at you as she tried to gauge your reaction. “I just don’t understand, you know? You two seemed happy together.”

“You and me both,” you grumbled, shaking your head.

Jenna set her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey,” she called, smiling slightly, “what does Liam even matter? He’ll realize soon enough that he made a huge mistake.”

You wanted to agree, and maybe Jenna was right, but that didn’t replace the hurt and anger you felt welling within you. Ever since Liam had broken up with you a week ago, you’d been wracking your mind for some sort of explanation and had come up with nothing. Not only had the breakup been sudden, Liam hadn’t even had the decency to tell you why.

Hence, why you were left a wreck.

“I hope you’re right.”

With a wide, confident grin, Jenna wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you shut your locker door. “Hell yeah, I am,” she laughed, falling into step with you. “We’re gonna make sure of it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that fell on your lips at Jenna’s words. She always did know how to make you feel better.

“Uh oh.”

Looking up from your feet, you turned your head, glancing at Jenna. “What?”

“Liam,” she explained, nodding her head to your left. You followed her line of vision, hating the way the hurt that flooded through you at the sight of said boy. He’d just walked into Beacon Hills high school and was making a bee-line for something. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but follow his movements, watching where he was going.

Though, you instantly regretted the decision the moment you saw Liam stop by Hayden Romero’s locker. Your body stilled, steps coming to a halt as you and Jenna both turned towards the pair. And your heart just about plummeted the moment you saw Liam wrap his arm around Hayden’s waist, pulling the girl against his side before pressing a kiss against her cheek.

“Oh, Y/N...”

You ignored Jenna’s words, your eyes watering. 

For a moment, you didn’t move. There was a sick feeling welling up in your stomach, and you felt as if you were going to throw up right there and then. And even if they actually weren’t, it felt like the entire school’s eyes were on you as you watched your ex-boyfriend kiss another girl, a week after he broke up with you.

Had you really been that unimportant?

Jenna reached out for you, to comfort you, but you stepped away from her touch. Your hand was pressed tightly against your stomach, and in the next second, you turned, bolting out of there. You missed the way Liam’s eyes fell on you the moment you started running, the smile on his lips falling when he saw you, as you continued making your way down the hallway.

You turned into the first empty classroom you could find, practically bursting through the door and slamming it shut behind you. A heaved gasp left your lips the moment you were alone and you pressed your hands on a desk adjacent to the door, biting your lip. Your eyes were clenched shut tightly as you tried not to cry, knowing you’d regret it and hate yourself for it later.

But the imagine of Liam, the boy you still loved, kissing another girl burned in your mind. No less then a week after he’d broken up with you.

“Y/N?”

No. No.

Without even bearing the boy a glance, you spat; “get out.”

“Y/N-”

“Did you not hear me?” You bellowed, a shaky breath leaving your lips the moment you finished your sentence. You glanced around, as if remembering you were still in school before meeting Liam’s gaze. He’d shut the door behind him as well, obviously meaning he meant to stay.

You would not have it.

“If you aren’t leaving, then I am.”

You stomped forward, intent on leaving the room but Liam caught you before you could. He latched onto your wrists stopping you. 

“Let go of me,” you grunted, fighting his grip. “Liam, let me-”

“Listen to me,” Liam interrupted, gently pushing you back.

You relented, giving up on your struggle to leave. But you did rip your wrists from Liam’s grasp, taking a appropriate step back from him and crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. “Listen to you?” You asked, voice menacing. “Why should I listen to you? After everything you’ve done?”

“Y/N, there’s a lot you don’t unders-”

“I think I understand everything just fine,” you huffed, shaking your head. Your eyes were still watery and the tears were threatening to fall, but it took everything within you not to let Liam see the effect he was having on you. “I understand that you broke up with me, for a reason you won’t tell. And now, a week later, you’re kissing another girl like we never happened.”

“No,” Liam argued, shaking his head. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“Oh, is it not?” You asked, quirking a brow. “Because unless I imagined the entire thing, that’s exactly what I just saw.”

“I don’t love Hayden,” Liam argued, shaking his head. “I love you.”

“Then, why?”

“Because, I was scared,” he admitted. Liam glanced up, meeting your eyes. “Scared of what you’d think when you saw the true me.”

“True you? Liam, I alread-”

“No,” Liam interrupted, “you don’t.” Then, he took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “This is the real me.”

You waited, not sure exactly what was going to happen. And nothing you could’ve quite prepared you for it. Liam’s eyes glowed, physically glowed, a yellow colour, and claws grew from his fingernails, not to mention the fangs.

It was something from a horror movie.

Your eyes widened, lips parting and you took a step back, a strangled grasp leaving your lips. 

“I’m a werewolf.”

What?

“And, I broke up with you because I didn’t know what you’d think.” Liam explained, his human features returning as he sighed. “Plus, I didn’t want to put you in danger.”

For a long while you were silent, trying to gather your bearings. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words and even then all you managed was; “what?”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” Liam nodded, taking a step forward. “And I promise i’ll explain everything. But, Y/N, I need you to know that I would never hurt you intentionally, and I still love you.”

“This... This is,” you stammered for the right words, shaking your head. 

“A lot?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” Liam assured. “I’ll tell you everything, explain everything but... know that i’m sorry.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded. “It’s okay,” you whispered, and finally, you met his eyes. “I guess you had a good enough reason.”

The smallest of smiles cracked on Liam’s lips as he chuckled lightly. “I’m glad you think so.”

-

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

requests are closed!

[sungwoonh]

Wanna One | When you want to leave during an argument (part 2)

a/n: Here’s part two of this hyung line scenario as promised! Hope these drabbles make up for me being inactive for the next three days as I take my finals. I’ll be back soon with more writing for you guys! 

Genre: angst & (slight) fluff Warnings: mention of profanity Characters: Ong Seongwu / Kim Jaehwan / Kang Daniel

part one / part two

Ong Seongwu

Leaning onto the kitchen counter, you tap your fingernails on the granite-covered surface, the sound echoing throughout the empty apartment. You’ve been standing there for an hour? Maybe two? You weren’t even sure anymore. With your other hand holding onto your phone, you check the time - 4:48AM. Where was he?

Suddenly, you hear keys hurriedly opening the lock to the door, with a string of mumbled curses. Your grip on the counter tightens as the door opens, and you lock eyes with Seongwu.

He’s hesitant before he says, “why are you still up?”

“What do you think?” You didn’t want to sound condescending but you were exhausted. This wasn’t the first time he had come home extremely late, without a word about where he was going or when he was coming home. 

It started weeks ago. You knew that he was highly stressed from work. His schedule was hectic, and he tried to keep a happy facade around everyone - it was part of his job after all. But after a while, all the pressure and expectations from him had become too much. He was spreading himself too thin, and he wasn’t sure if there was anything of him left anymore. He wasn’t even sure if there was any of him - his energy, his passion, his love - left for you.

Because of this, he was terrified. He didn’t know what to do anymore, and he didn’t want to face the uncertainty yet. So he decided to just spend the nights after work going out with his friends, drinking and whatnot. 

The first time he came home late, he told you it was to blow off some steam because work was draining him, and you understood. But this understanding grew thin after weeks turning into months of him coming home late every night. You were at your breaking point.

“I’ve told you before. You don’t have to wait for me anymore.” he sighs as he looks at you.

“Then what do you want me to do, Seongwu?” you say, as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“You’re telling me to not care about you anymore,” your voice firm.

“What? I never said that!”

“It’s the same when you tell me not to wait for you anymore. This has been going on for months, Seongwu. I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore. You brush me off every time I ask you about it.”

He rolled his eyes, “and I keep telling you not to worry yourself about it.”

You stand abruptly, leaving the stability you felt from leaning onto the counter. You could feel your walls crashing down. “How am I not supposed to worry when you’re out there every night until god knows what hour and I have no idea if you’re even coming home?” your voice is raised now, with your body starting to tremble. 

“Do you still even love me, Seongwu?” you say quietly.

There was silence, and then you were ready to break. It’s true, he didn’t need you anymore. He came home late all those nights and avoided you because of that. You leaned back into the counter, it’s support meaning nothing now.

When he didn’t say anything, you started to turn away, “I guess that answers my question,” your voice was solid despite the sobs threatening to escape your throat. You start to leave, and make your way to your bedroom. 

Suddenly, he approaches you and places his hands on either side of you on the counter, trapping you between his arms. He leaned down, leveling his eyes with yours. “I do love you,” his voice thick under all the tension.

“Then why are you doing this?” you don’t break eye contact with him, scared that if you let go, everything will disappear all at once.

However, Seongwu breaks the contact and leans his head on your shoulder, his eyes locking onto the floor. He didn’t want to look at you as he said what he was about to,

“I... I’m tired. I think - I think I want to quit from work. I was scared to tell you this, so I came home late hoping to avoid the conversation. I knew you were going to see through me, because you know me more than anyone else. Sometimes even more than I know myself.” he chuckles, as he finally raises his head to look at you. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

You sigh as you move away from the counter, and closer to him. You run a hand through his hair, before letting it rest on his cheek. “Seongwu, I want you to remember what I’m about to say.” You pause as he looks at you expectantly.

“I love you, and I always will. No matter what path you choose, I’ll be there. I’ll be there to support you. But you need to be honest with me, you need to tell me when something’s happening because how can I be there with you if you won’t let me?”

Then, he wraps his arms around you and buries his face onto your neck, “I’m so glad I have you.”

Kim Jaehwan

“Are you done yet?” Jaehwan says, obviously irritated.

“Excuse me?” you ask, offended, as you turn to look straight at him. Jaehwan was sitting on the bed, annoyance clearly written on his face.

“You’ve been rambling for what seems like forever.”

“I keep rambling because no matter how long I keep talking, you never listen to me,” you cross your arms over your chest. You hated arguing with Jaehwan, especially since you don’t think he ever took you seriously - not one of your arguments. You weren’t even sure if he was serious and committed enough to this relationship.

“I don’t listen when you’ve been talking too much,” his voice tight with discontent. 

It was like this whenever you and Jaehwan argued. It was like he didn’t care enough to listen to you, and try to work through the conflict. He was always just impatiently waiting for the fight to end. Jaehwan always thought that arguing was a waste of time, but he never tried to help you solve the problem or come to a compromise. He always took the easiest and quickest way out.

“Are you saying you don’t take me seriously anymore?” You were biting back the anger emanating from your lips. You were close to the edge, and yet he did nothing but push you over it.

“What? When did I say that?”

“You clearly don’t think this argument is important - maybe not even one of our arguments is important to you. That means you’re not taking this seriously,” you say, your feet solidly rooted on the ground despite the feeling of wanting to breakdown at any second.

 “You’re unbelievable.” Jaehwan lets out an exasperated laugh.

That’s when it hit you. Jaehwan didn’t really put any effort into trying to solve conflicts between you - maybe he just really didn’t take your relationship seriously. 

“Fine,” you turn to your desk and begin packing your phone, wallet, and other belongings into your purse.

“What are you doing?” he cautiously gets up from the bed.

“Leaving.” But before you could move through the doorway, you feel arms strongly encircling your waist. Jaehwan had confined you into his hold, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Let me go, Jaehwan.”

“No! I’ll never do that,” he wraps his arms around you tighter. “Please,” he breathed, “I don’t want to let you go.”

You’re quiet for a bit, before he turns you around in his arms, and cups either side of your face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently brushing the side of your cheek.

“I just - I really hate arguments. I’m scared that it would lead to something worse and I don’t want that. I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

You look deep into his eyes, “it’s only natural that we argue over some things, Jaehwan. But you have to help me work through it. You’re not going to lose me just over an argument, especially if we go through it together.”

He nods gently and smiles, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll be okay.”

Kang Daniel

You throw your keys and your coat furiously onto the kitchen table, as soon as you enter your apartment, a visibly upset Daniel following after you.

“What do you want me to do, y/n? I’m doing the best that I can,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the couch.

“I want you to think about yourself for once, Daniel!” you say, raising your voice slightly. 

You had just gotten back from the company clinic where they took Daniel due to constant headaches that hindered him from continuing with rehearsals and his other schedules for the day. He was advised by the doctor to rest for the entire day, and try to avoid straining himself for the rest of the week. 

However, as soon as you exited the doctor’s office, you were met by Daniel’s manager who reminded him of his schedules for the week, but not after asking if the doctor cleared him, and that he was able to continue the rest of his schedule. “Yes, of course. I’ll be here early tomorrow,” Daniel responds despite the pointed look you had been giving him. You didn’t want to make a scene, or create tension with his manager so you decided to stay quiet and take him home. And you were quiet, throughout the entire drive home.

“The doctor told you to rest! But you’re pushing through with your schedule?” you say, exasperated. 

“What am I supposed to do? It’s my job!” Daniel snapped, annoyance now evident on his face.

“It’s your job to work yourself into exhaustion until something bad happens to you? Your manager even asked you first if you can do the schedules, and you agreed like you didn’t just walk out of a damn clinic!”

“I’m fine, y/n! I know I can do it. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because I care about you!” you were close to shouting now.

“Then if you care about me, why don’t you just leave me alone and let me do my work?” Daniel had raised his voice too.

Then it grew quiet. You were taken aback by what he just said. All you wanted was to take care of him, and for him to value his health just like you did. You were scared that something worse was bound to happen if he didn’t pay attention to his health - and you wanted him to realize that today. But apparently, you caring for him was something Daniel disliked.

“Fine. I’m leaving.” You say as you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your keys and coat from the table. But before you could leave, Daniel was blocking the doorway.

“You’re not leaving,” he says with serious expression on his face.

“I’m leaving. You just told me to.” You begin to push him away, and try to pass through the space between him and the door - but Daniel picks you up and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

“Daniel! What are you doing?! Put me down!” He gently places you onto the bed, quickly lying next to you and caging you into his arms before you could escape. 

“You’re not going anywhere!” Daniel says as he pulls you closer to him, your back flat on his chest. 

It’s quiet for a bit and he says sadly, “please don’t leave me.”

Slowly, you move your body to face him, as he raises his head to meet your eyes. You reach out your hand to move his hair away from his eyes.

“Daniel,” you breathe, “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about my health. I’m just too stubborn to think I can do everything,” Daniel admits.

“At least you’re not too stubborn to know that you’re stubborn,” you say, eliciting a laugh from him.

He pulls you closer to him, and buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Will you let me take care of you now?” you ask quietly. 

“You always do.”

[whimzea-blog]

Consider the Following 4/4

Title: Consider the Following

Author: whimzea

Pairing: Zane/Heath

Summary: Heath refuses to move into Zane’s room, and Zane cannot figure out why.

Also up on AO3 here.

“If you move one more goddamn time I’m gonna slit your throat,” Matt threatened, grabbing a strong hold of Zane’s neck.

They were in Zane’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink. Every surface- and Matt and Zane- was covered with a fine layer of dark hair.

“Are we finished yet? It never takes Heath this long,” Zane complained, wiping his forehead. He was nervous and standing still was driving him crazy.

“Almost, bitch,” Matt replied, putting the razor back to Zane’s beard. After three more minutes he turned it off and stood back and surveyed his work.

“You’re done,” Matt declared, tossing the razor on the counter and vigorously brushing off his shirt. “Jesus, Zane, you’re a hairy motherfucker. It’s everywhere. I think it’s in my mouth.” Matt spat in the sink for emphasis.

“You actually did a good job,” Zane said, running a hand over his trimmed beard. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” Matt clapped a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I’m leaving. Take a shower. You stink. And...good luck.”

“I owe you, dude,” Zane said sincerely. Matt had gone above and beyond the call of best friendship today, and no matter how this night went, he was glad he at least had Matt in his corner.

“I know,” Matt replied breezily, giving Zane a salute before heading out of the apartment.

Zane took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. It would have to do.

He cleaned up the bathroom, showered, and brushed his teeth, his anxiety ramping up as each minute passed. He fretted in his closet for fifteen minutes before deciding that he was being ridiculous. Heath didn’t give a shit about his clothes.

He sat on the couch, his knee jiggling. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 8:55pm.

He scrolled through his texts. Kam had replied to his strong suggestion that he spend the night at Meghan’s with a succinct, “K fuckhead.”

Zane opened the conversation below for the thousandth time. Nothing new. Just the one text.

Be home at 9.

Zane and Matt had been at The Grove eating lunch at Umami Burger when the text from Heath had come in. Zane had stared at the screen for a full twenty seconds.

“I’m not seeing things, right? This is real?” Zane thrust the phone across their table into Matt’s face.

Matt squinted. “Looks like it.” He gave Zane’s arm a quick pat. “See? I told you not to worry.”

“But what does that even mean? Like, is he telling me that he’ll be home at 9, or is he telling me to be home at 9? Why does he want me to be home?” Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re over-thinking this. He texted you. That’s a good thing.”

Zane bit his fingernail. “But what if-”

Matt held up his hand. “Stop. Just be home at 9. And let the chips fall where they may.”

Zane had been a wreck all week, sleeping horribly, his stomach churning with anxiety every waking moment. Even if the worst happened, at least he knew where he stood.

Zane nodded and took a bite of his burger. It tasted like shit.

*****

At 9:07, the apartment door opened.

Zane jumped up and shoved his phone in his pocket. Heath dropped his backpack on the ground and kicked the door closed before turning to look at Zane.

“Hi.”

Zane swallowed. “Hi.”

Heath had dark circles under his eyes and his beard was much scruffier than usual. Or, exactly how Zane had looked all week.

They stood in awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity before Heath finally spoke.

“Where’s Kam?” Heath asked. He crossed the foyer to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Zane saw him hesitate before grabbing another.

“He’s spending the night at Meghan’s.”

Heath nodded and popped the cap off the bottles on the edge of the counter. He crossed the living room and stood in front of Zane, avoiding eye contact but handing him one of the bottles.

“Thanks.” Zane took a swig right away, not realizing how fucking dry his throat had been. He had never in his life been this uncomfortable around Heath. It was a terrible feeling.

After taking a long pull from his own bottle, Heath finally looked at Zane straight on. Zane couldn’t read his expression. For the first time in years, Zane had no idea what Heath was thinking.

Zane had never really understood the phrase “you could cut the tension with a knife” until this moment. He wanted to say something, anything, so that Heath knew how sorry he was. But he couldn’t seem to make any part of his body work, let alone speak.

What Heath did next was surprising, even to Heath himself.

Heath took a breath like he was about to say something. Zane tensed, getting ready for the worst.

But then, Heath kissed him.

Zane stepped back in surprise, barely managing not to drop the bottle in his hand. When Heath broke the kiss, they were both out of breath.

Heath didn’t step back, but remained pressed up against Zane’s chest. They were centimeters apart, and Zane could feel Heath’s breath on his lips. It had only been a week, but it was like it had been years.

Zane guessed that just setting the tension on fire was as good as any other way of getting rid of it.

Heath brushed his hand against Zane’s, grabbing the neck of Zane’s bottle and sliding it out of his hands. He set both of their drinks on the end table next to them.

Zane inhaled sharply as Heath slid a cold hand under his shirt. Heath’s fingers drew a line from the base of his spine up to his mid-back, before digging his nails in and dragging them down Zane’s back, so hard it was sure to leave marks.

Heath rested his other hand against Zane’s neck before sliding it up into Zane’s hair. He gripped it and tugged roughly, finally closing the space between them and biting Zane’s bottom lip, hard.

In no version of these events that Zane had anxiously imagined for the past week, had he imagined this happening.

“Go to the bedroom and sit on the bed,” Heath said lowly against Zane’s mouth. “And don’t do anything else.”

Heath pushed Zane away, keeping his face emotionless as he watched Zane hesitate for a second, confusion mixed with arousal on his features. Heath held his gaze, internally pumping his fist when Zane finally turned and walked towards the bedroom.

Heath watched Zane disappear through the door, feeling a strange rush of power. It was pure impulse that had made him kiss Zane, but it wasn’t totally illogical.

Heath turned off all the lights, locked the door, took his time. All of a sudden he had the desire to make Zane sweat it out, make him wring his hands and wonder what was coming next. The part of Heath that knew that this wasn’t the healthiest way to work through conflict also knew that this was exactly what they needed to do.

Heath had had a moment of clarity, pressed against Zane’s chest, feeling his nervous pulse. Besides the emo thing about his brother (which he would never, ever reveal) Heath realized that what had really pissed him off was Zane trying to make all of the decisions for them. Deep down he knew that Zane wasn’t using him for content, or trying to make him feel like shit. He knew that Zane loved him. But Zane also had the bad habit of only seeing his own point of view, using his charisma to gain control until he was on top and you had no idea how it had happened.

If Heath was going to be with Zane, Zane had to know that he couldn’t do that. If Heath was going to share a space with him (and he had pretty much decided he would, although Zane didn’t need to know that yet) Zane would have to know that they were equals.

Heath found Zane sitting on the side of the bed, his hands anxiously fisting the comforter. Zane’s eyes shot to Heath when he walked in, but he didn’t say anything.

Heath emptied his pockets of his phone and wallet, tossing them on the dresser. He moved around the room, doing his nightly routine, feeling Zane watching him the entire time.

When Heath stood before Zane again, he was only in his briefs, his arms crossed in front of him. He saw Zane’s eyes slide from his lips, to the waistband of his Calvins, to his thighs.

“Take off your shirt.” Heath was firm, his gaze hard.

To his (hidden) amazement, Zane didn’t protest. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the side.

Heath admired curve of his shoulders, the bulk of his arms. As much as Heath enjoyed being lifted up and fucked into oblivion by that body, tonight that was not going to happen.

“Stand up.” You’re not my boss.

“Don’t make a sound.” You’ll never control me.

Heath’s hand slid under the waistband of Zane’s jeans, his nails digging into his hip bone. He dragged his hand back up Zane’s torso, leaning closer so that he could wrap his arms around Zane’s neck.

He felt Zane’s hands brush his hips, and he grabbed a handful of Zane’s hair and pulled. “Don’t touch.” Zane’s hands dropped to his sides. Heath pressed his chest into Zane’s and blew softly on Zane’s ear. He licked a stripe down Zane’s throat to his collarbone, biting it hard.

Heath could feel Zane tense up, could hear him grit his teeth. Heath pressed kisses along Zane’s jaw until he was hovering millimeters above Zane’s lips. He could feel Zane instinctively trying to close the distance between them, but he pulled Zane’s head back by the hair, squeezing his neck roughly with his other hand.

He could feel Zane thrumming with arousal, his cock fattening up in his jeans.

Even though Heath usually took the lead in the bedroom, as far as getting things going, Zane tended to take over once things got heated. Zane hated to be teased, and he knew that it was driving Zane crazy that he couldn’t do what he wanted.

Heath luxuriated in the feeling of Zane’s body heat, running his hands over his back, his arms, the soft hair on his chest, all the while keeping his lips just out of reach.

Zane swallowed loudly, his biceps rippling as he balled his fists up tightly. Heath ground his pelvis into Zane’s, the cool metal of Zane’s belt leaving a mark on Heath’s belly.

Zane couldn’t touch, or speak, and he was falling apart. Heath knew that this was ten times more effective at keeping Zane in line than handcuffs, or a whip, or anything else he could pull out of a bedroom drawer.

He pushed Zane so that he fell onto the bed on his back. He motioned for Zane to go in the middle of the bed.

Heath took off his briefs and climbed on to the very expensive new mattress, crawling over so that he was straddling Zane’s thighs.

He slowly undid Zane’s belt, then the button, the the zipper of his jeans, making sure to “accidentally” touch his dick with every movement.

Zane was flushed, and Heath could tell he was getting aggravated. Good.

Heath grasped the waistband of Zane’s jeans and underwear, sliding down Zane’s legs and pulling the clothing down with him, allowing Zane to lift his hips to help.

He straddled Zane’s thighs again, ignoring his cock, but leaning forward so that his elbows rested besides Zane’s head, their chests pressed together.

Zane was rapt with attention. Heath had never seen Zane look at him like that, and it was fucking incredible. “Listen to me,” Heath murmured. “Don’t speak.”

Zane nodded, his eyes wide.

“I don’t want to have a mushy heart-to-heart. I think we’ve both had enough time to think and know where we were right and wrong, logical and...not logical.” Zane nodded slightly.

“So I’ll keep it brief. I’ll move into this room. On three conditions.” Heath pressed his lips against Zane’s ear.

“You never use money to manipulate me ever again.” Zane closed his eyes, and Heath could feel his shame.

“You understand that what I want is just as important as what you want.”

Heath moved so he could see Zane’s face. “Open your eyes.” Zane complied, his expression earnest and repentant.

“And, you always know...that in here, I’m in control.” Zane licked his lips and nodded.

“If you agree, say, ‘I agree.’”

“I agree,” Zane said immediately, his voice deep and breathless.

“Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Heath nodded, letting the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. He knew Zane was being sincere. And he knew that Zane had received the appropriate punishment.

Heath kissed Zane roughly, and he could hear Zane suppress a growl deep in his throat.

“You can speak,” Heath whispered. “And, you can touch.”

In a millisecond Heath was on his back, enveloped by heat. In their bed. In their room.

[lovelydeceitff]

Chapter 3

we gone do it like it's about to be the end of the world and they're depending on us to make earth shaking love…

Shay

It’s Sunday night. One more day of freedom and then classes start Tuesday. I’m so not ready. Training literally drained me this year.. sitting in lectures for hours and then having to jump right back into classes without a small break is kind of stressful. My brain hates me for this torture.

I decided to give myself a short “Me Time” session before Keith gets here. He decided to come back today instead of Friday. He wanted to spend a little more time with his family before coming back to school. He always decides to leave home when the sun is about to set. It’s a 3 hour drive of corn fields about 90% of the way here.. meaning that it’s dark af. I hate when he does this but Keith is very stubborn and I swear sometimes he thinks he’s invincible and can do it all. At the beginning of our relationship I called him super man lol.

My Superman.

I had so many reasons for this. Mainly because he did so much and I couldn’t understand how he made it through his first year. Keith ran track for the school; he had practice from 3 to 6pm. His classes were from 9am to 2pm. He ALSO worked M-F from 4am to 8am so he could pay his $3000/per semester balance from tuition. Basically he was busy from 3am (the time his alarm goes off) to 6pm and if he’s lucky 5pm. Then he’d have to do homework up until his body can’t stay up any longer. Some days he’d decide to skip out on dinner so he can get straight to his homework, I’d have to force him to go to the dining hall sometimes. If not he’d eat a PB&J sandwich or Ramen noodles and call it a night. Chances are he also didn’t have breakfast… he normally eats a fruit and whatever other snack he has, like a honey bun or a giant cookie. He managed to get a 2.7 GPA that year. It might not sound ideally great, but considering everything he had to do -that was great.

He ended up quitting track that year, he was so hurt. I felt horrible for my baby. I remember telling him “even superman has to make sAcrifices”. Keith is super athletic, before college he played football, basketball, and ran track. He was the best on the field in football and went to state twice in track. The only reason he isn’t on scholarships for sports is because his grades weren’t good in HS and with our school, he took too long to decide on the offer. He wasn’t going to come here. Though he struggled freshman year trying to keep up with his schedule, Keith decided to start working two jobs the next year. Smh. Superman, I’m telling you.

Now we’re juniors, Keith got another scholarship over the summer which helped him out greatly so he was able to quit one job, but he decided to keep the overnight one. The 4am to 8am. So when he gets here, he’ll probably be getting ready for bed.

I spent about an hour and a half just doing me stuff. I took a nice hot shower, exfoliated and shaved. I painted my toenails and fingernails. I felt good. Real good. I also haven’t seen my baby in almost 3 weeks so he better think I look real good too cause I need him ASAP. Lucky for me he didn’t take too long to get here after I finished up.

He unpacked his car and brought his things to my room. I was so happy to see him I just about jumped on him when I let him in. I missed his face. I showed him my Fenty slides that he bought me.

“Those are perfect good. I’m happy cause they go with your other gift.” He grabbed a Victoria secret bag from his tote and gave it to me. There was a white and pink kimono style satin inside the bag. I loved it. I’ve been saying I wanted a satin robe for the longest. He also got me a bunch of my favorite candy, Twix.

“Baby I love it, thank you so much. I can’t believe you remembered about the robe!!”

“I told you I pay attention to you, you be thinking I’m bullshitting. But anything for you girl, happy late birthday” he said to me then I gave him a big kiss.

After Keith settled in he took a shower. He told me he was going to work tomorrow so he could only be up for a while, but he does want to watch Netflix with me. That’s our thing. Watching shows on Netflix. Right now we’re stuck on Shameless. It’s almost 9:30 so we’ll probably squeeze in one episode.

I heated up the food I got him earlier and set up Netflix. He got out the shower and yes I had to control myself before I jumped on him again. It’s been 3 weeks since I felt my best friend. I call his penis my best friend. Don’t judge me.

We began watching our show, idk why I thought we’d make it through the entire episode.

Keith rubbed my ass then gave it a good squeeze. “Damn baby you getting thick, I’m liking this” he whispered in my ear.

“I remember when we first started dating, you had no booty haha. Now look at you. I did that baby?” He asked

“Keith, oh my gosh. Yes baby you did that. And so did squats.” I answered.

He smacked my ass, “we’ll keep doing them squats….”

We attempted to watch the episode of Shameless again. About 10 minutes later, I’m sure Keith just said fuck it. He started squeezing and rubbing on my ass and thighs harder. It was time. He was ready and I BEEN ready. I don’t know why I got all nervous when he first got here.

Keith began kissing my neck. I turned around and kissed him softly. I sucked on his bottom lip and then forced my tongue in his mouth. We kissed like we’d never be able to kiss again. He rolled me on top of him as we continued to kiss. I kissed him down to his neck where I sucked and placed small bites. I stopped to take his shirt off and then he took off mine. After that I only had on my panties. He had on his shorts and boxer briefs. I went back and began to softly kiss him from his neck all the way down to his lower stomach. I started to tease him. I pulled down his shorts and boxers and started licked and kissing everything but his dick. I had him in the palm of my hands. He was so ready for this head.

I went back up kissed him once more then returned to his member. I placed a kiss on the tip, licked up his shaft, the put him in my mouth. At first I started slow, then I sped up as I began to deep throat. I was going crazy on him. He was trying his hardest not to yell out, I felt it. Keith isn’t a moaner.

I stopped sucking his dick and began to mount myself on top of him. He rose up and kissed me first. I pulled off my panties, grabbed his dick and put him at my opening. I teased his dick at my opening before sliding down it.

“Uhhhhhhh, oh my god baby” I moaned

“Shit, fuck you so wet” Keith moaned out.

I was slowly grinding as I leaned foreward to tell him how much I missed him.

“I missed you too baby too much. Ride that dick baby, fuck” he said

I bounced and twerked like my life depended on it. He loved when I got on top. I swear I cannot twerk at all. I can only do that shit on his dick. It’s crazy. We switched positions. Face down, ass up. He was smacking the hell out of my ass. I had to play it off like it didn’t hurt. It was good hurt, I guess. He started giving me short fast strokes then he would slow down and give me long slow strokes and it was driving me crazy. I was moaning so loud, I know for a fact my neighbors heard me. He was fucking me so good. I laid flat down as he continued to fuck me from behind. He laid on top of me as his dick continued to thrust in and out of me. All you heard was my screams, our skin slapping, and my wetness.

“Shit Keith, right there. Yes baby. UUUUHHHHHHHH, YESS!”

He was giving me long strokes, fast. Touching my spot. I was about to cum. His dick was going in and out and every time it made me get louder. I started grinding back on him. He sat up on his knees, grabbed my hips and continued to thrust in and out of me.

“KEITH YES FUCKKK. I’m about to cum, don’t stop.” I cried out

“Cum for me baby. Cum all over this dick”

“Ssssssssss, fuck. Ohhhh uhhhhhh baby right there. I’m about to oh my god. IM ABOUT TO– AHHHHHH KEEEITTHH IM CUMMING”

He then began fucked me harder. I thought I was about to explode. He wasn’t letting up. His dick felt so amazing. I was getting wetter and wetter as we came close to climax.

Keith went balls deep as he grinded into my now throbbing center. I was loving it. I was grinding back. I was trying hard not to cum. I just wanted to ride this feeling out forever. I started throwing my ass back.

“Shit, girl!”

I got about 6 more backshots in before we both came. I was stuck. He was stuck. We just wanted to lay there and go to sleep. I had to tell Keith to get up and get a towel before he really fell asleep.

After we cleaned ourselves up, we cuddled until we fell asleep. I was in my favorite place. His arms. It literally felt like forever since I’ve been held by him.

“I love you babe” I said to him

“I love you too” he said groggily

[returntopelon]

Pam

My brother has always been my closest friend. He is easily the most loving and genuine person I have ever met and is loved by pretty much everyone he meets. Despite this, he hasn't been in many relationships. I think its partly due to the fact that he's a very "all or nothing" type of guy. When he falls he falls DEEPLY and BLINDLY. A blessing and a curse, I guess.

Anyway, the few girlfriends he's had, I've known quite well, despite being nearly 8 years younger than him. Most of them have been nice, normal, pleasant girls, with the exception of a few. We had high hopes that he'd settle in with a long term, wonderful girlfriend as he entered his adult life. We had no idea we'd spend 6 years sharing a hell with him, our family and our close friends, all by the hands of one girl. I'll call her Pam.

I met Pam when I was 11, my brother 19, and she was 17, graduating High School. I remember being surprised to have him introduce her right off the bat as his girlfriend, since neither my parents of I had heard anything about her. But, she was kind, warm, an honor student and beautiful. I admired her immediately.

For the first year of their relationship, Pam never seemed off. She was always happy, always kind and always had good stories to tell. She and I grew closer, as she seemed eager to bond with me and it was like having an older sister. We shared many of the same interests and friendship came easy between she and I, as I was mature for my age and she was so inviting.

But halfway through their second year of dating, we started noticing things about Pam. Just small, odd habits she had.

If someone was having conversation with my brother that did not directly involve her, or that she wasn't a part of, she tended to insert herself as best she could; sitting closer to my brother, laughing a little louder, calling him away, etc. If any of our family or friends would ask my brother questions about college or future aspirations, she'd grow increasingly uncomfortable and sometimes made comments like, "I hope you have it all planned out, 'cause I'm goin wherever you're goin".

My parents and I would chuckle about these behaviors, assuming that Pam just loved my brother and was a bit protective. We liked her a lot and had high hopes for their relationship. I hate to think now how blind we were.

One night, my brother came home late from a party, I was 13 at this time, he was about to turn 21. He walked in the door, our parents were already asleep, but I was up in the living room. I could immediately tell he was upset about something. I asked him what was wrong. As he walked into the kitchen I realized he had a large welt on his cheek. I asked, "What happened to you?"

He said, "I got in a fight. Its cool." This immediately raised suspicion as my brother was as far from the fighting type as you could be. "I fight over what?" I asked. "Pam." He said simply and went to his room

The next morning he was driving me to my soccer game and I pried again about what had happened. He didn't answer at first but then said, "Pam is kind of... Weird." I asked how so. He said "I don't know, she likes to start things."

Pam was a pathological liar. Apparently, she did it all the time. Looking back, the constant new stories of places she'd been and things she'd done didn't seem to be truthful. That night at the party, Pam had told my brother that another man at the party had attempted to rape her. My brother, being the man he is, confronted him and he said "I've never even seen her before." And a fight ensued over the accusation. On the car ride home, Pam said that my brother must have misinterpreted her words and that nothing close to rape had occurred.

The lying seemed to be a detrimental bump in the road, and my brother broke things off.

After several weeks, Pam contacted me asking if I wanted to go shopping with her. Having had a good relationship in the past with Pam, I agreed. My parents thought it was strange that a 20 year old wanted to spend time with her ex-boyfriend's 14 year old sister, but they let me go anyway.

The day started pleasantly, Pam caught me up on her life and asked how I was/how my family and brother were. Nothing seemed strange, until she began to bring up uncomfortable conversation. She explained to me that she had had a sexually traumatic childhood and thats why she lied so much. But she also aggressively defended herself saying "Whatever your brother told you was a lie. He was the one telling lies. Thats why I had to breakup with him". She seemed to jerk around the conversation from normal to deeply personal and strange topics. She explained in detail a lesbian experience she had had after ending her relationship with my brother and told me that I should try it, when I came of age, of course.

I became increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. She noticed and immediately apologized, saying that she really liked being my friend and that she loved my brother and thats why she was acting so crazy. I told her I liked being her friend too and that I understood her feelings. This was a mistake

This is when the phone calls began.

It started with just one. She called me a week after we had hung out at 10pm. She was sobbing and saying that she was so sad without my brother and that she needed to get him back.

Then they happened nightly, later and later each time. I'd be dead asleep at 2am and receive a sobbing, hysterical and desperate phone call. I felt so much pity for her that I continued to answer.

One call was different than the other, though. She wasn't hysterical, she wasn't crying. I picked up the phone at 1:30 in the morning and heard a level voiced, monotone Pam. She said one sentence, "Tell your brother I'm going to slit my fucking throat tonight." And then she hung up. I felt numb. I had never experienced that before, no one I knew had ever behaved that way. I texted her over and over again asking if she was okay and telling her to not do anything. I panicked, I thought I had done something wrong and that since she told me I would be responsible in some way.

The next day, I told my brother what had happened and he said he'd go to her house to check on her.

A week later Pam arrived at my house, arm in arm with my brother. They had gotten back together and seemed as if nothing had happened. She smiled at me and never once mentioned the phone calls she had made to me.

The next month is when things escalated again.

I came home from school to my entire family sitting in the living room. They told me to sit down, I thought someone had died. My mother told me, "Your brother let us know how you're feeling." I had no idea what they were talking about. "Feeling?" I asked. My brother looked at me with pity in his eyes, "Pam told me that she wasn't the one who called you, you called her. And you're the one who wasn't feeling well." What the fuck. "No, thats not what happened, she called me every night for 2 weeks crying and saying she wanted you back." "Thats not what she said, she said that you called her with your problems and that she wasn't sure what to do." I was immediately angry that her lies were continuing and that my own family believed them enough to stage an intervention. I showed them the text messages she'd sent me, played them voice messages and showed my call history. That put and end to that lie.

After that I wanted nothing to do with her. My brother broke up with her again. She called him hundreds of times and sent hundred of messages. She showed up at our house a few times with baked goods, wanting to apologize, but we ignored her. Eventually, she left us alone and we didn't hear from her for almost a year.

On my last day of class before winter break during my Sophomore year, I walked out of school and was met by an incredibly unwelcome surprise. This is where things got scary.

Pam was pacing in the front of the school, biting her fingernails and scratching her head. Her face looked sunken in and she had bags under her eyes, I almost didnt recognize her. I began to cut across the front lawn with my friend, Liz, to avoid her, but she saw me and walked as fast as she could in my direction. She outreached her arms for a hug, but I stopped.

The first thing she said was "You're mad at me?". I asked her what she was doing there and she laughed quietly. "I wanted to apologize for whatever your brother told you. I'm sick, Oz." She used a nickname only my brother called me. "I know. Please don't talk to me anymore." I started away, knowing my brother was parked waiting for me around the corner. Pam reached out and grabbed my shoulder as I did. I quickly pulled away and said "I'm serious. Leave us alone, I think you need some help, Pam." She immediately began to cry, but I turned away and left. My brother pulled into the front parking lot of the school and opened his car door for me. "Is that fucking Pam?" He looked through his front mirror. "Yeah, I don't know what she's on, but she's crazy".

That night, at around 1 am, there was a knock at our door. My dad went to it and looked through the peep hole. "Uh," he said, surprised, "I think its, what the fuck, I think its Pam." "Don't open it, I think shes doing drugs." My brother said. My mom wanted to call the police, but my brother and my dad said we should just wait until she went away. A few moments later she rapped on the door harder and more violently. We heard her wailing and yelling "I hear you, fucking let me in!" As she cried. "She has a baseball bat or something" my brother said, coming from his room where he'd looked out the window. I looked from the den window. She looked like something out of a horror movie. She was wearing a grubby dress, bare footed. Her hair had been cut to above her shoulders and was in a wild, halfway in a bun, halfway out mess. She had wiped her makeup down her face like a ghoulish movie character. She looked even thinner than she did in day light and she swung a metal baseball back around as she stumbled about our yard.

"I'm calling the police, she must be drunk." My mother said. "No, it's fine. She's just giving a show. She'll leave." We didn't know people actually behaved like this. It was all eerily entertaining for a moment, like watching a true crime show. But just as she had been manically stumbling around, she stopped. She stood still, staring vacantly up towards the upstairs bedrooms, tilting her head side to side, up and down and licking her lips. "What is she on, heroin or something?" My dad asked.

Pam began to shift back and forth between laughing and yelling and crying. We all sat down as my brother tried her phone and her mom's phone to try and get her to leave. We sat there and listened to the frightening, animalistic sounds of her outside. But then they stopped. We checked the windows and she was gone.

We all sat in silence for a moment, taking in the strange encounter. My father just chuckled and shook his head, my mother shook hers, pitying the girl for being so disturbed. But I was frightened. No one, except perhaps my brother had seen just how quickly her demeanor, her mental state unraveled. From overprotective nature, to small lies, to pathological lies, to full blown manic outbreaks. But this was her worst and we didn't expect anything more to come of it, that she'd fade away from our lives since now she knew we weren't giving in to her desperation.

But in the next 2 years, we learned how wrong we were.

After the wintertime incident at our house, Pam stopped coming around. She was still very present, however. Every member of my family endured daily text messages and phone calls. They ranged from apologetic and stable, to incredibly distraught or outraged, cursing and making threats. I remember wanting to sleep with the lights on for several months after the incident, afraid that she'd climb the fence of our back yard and I'd find her standing at my window with the same vacant, crazed look she had that night in our front yard. All four of us eventually decided to have our phone numbers changed and block her from our devices and social media accounts. She still had our home phone number, however. Pam left some of the most frightening and haunting messages I'd ever heard. I can remember standing in my kitchen with my family, my brother playing the messages back for us. One stood out-- it showed us just how unstable and potentially dangerous she was:

My parents and I had returned from an early morning indoor soccer game in February of 2015. My brother asked us to come into the kitchen because we "had to hear the new crazy" Pam had become. The first message was about 30 seconds long and received at 12:30am the night before. Pam sound mildly angry and demanded that we return the batch of cookies she had brought to a 4th of July party, some years ago, because she didn't want us to have them anymore. We all exchanged humored glances at how ridiculous of a request it was. My mother turned to leave, amused, but my brother stopped her, saying that that wasn't the crazy part. My brother played the message, received at roughly 3 in the morning that day. We were confused at first because the first 15 seconds was that white noise, the kind you hear when a device plays the sound recording of an empty room, if you know what I'm talking about. But all of a sudden, in a deep, animalistic and enraged voice, she screamed, "Stop FUCKING playing with me... You're gonna get it." and abruptly ended the call. We were all startled by this.

"I want to call the police, they need to know... that girl isn't all there and who knows what she can do." My dad decided that if anything physically happened again, we'd file a report with the police, but that they were just phone calls. My brother assured that she was all talk and wouldn't come around again. At this point I agreed with my mother. I no longer felt safe. I had never been around someone who behaved like this. I was constantly anxious and I had no idea what I'd do if she came around again. I felt like I was stuck in a Lifetime movie, because I didn't think that things like this happened-- that someone I knew so personally could be hiding such a deeply withheld, violent and manic side. It had always been there, but we set it in motion.

After disconnecting the land line, the personal phone calls stopped. We didn't hear from her ourselves, but some of the friends my brother shared with Pam would come to him, saying that Pam wanted to speak with him and that she would call and message them regularly wanting his phone number. Luckily none of them gave it.

Just before summer, Pam disappeared.

No one got any messages, no one saw her in town. Nothing. Nothing until my brother received an email from Pam's mother, who my brother continued to speak to occasionally. She informed my brother that Pam's family had moved her to the east coast to undergo treatment for a drug habit.

Pam's mother had given us more information about the mental state of her daughter. Her mother had not spoken to or seen Pam much during the time she unraveled, when she came to our house or when she'd made the phone calls. Pam's mother had been under the impression my brother was still in a healthy relationship with Pam, and only learned about their breakup and the incident's following it. She explained that her daughter had always had been a white liar; making up stories that didn't make sense, blaming others for things she had already been caught for, arguing the truth of things that were already proven facts. "I don't think she ever thought that anything she did was wrong, even when it was. I don't understand it, because she was not raised that way," she had explained to my brother. Pam's issues were something that had always been present, but settled comfortably beneath an intelligent and attractive exterior. She'd fooled us, and maybe even herself.

Without Pam to worry about, our lives seemed to go back to normal; I still looked over my shoulder every now and again. But, I was preparing for 11th grade, my brother was beginning a new career and dating a new girl, the daughter of a close family friend, who he'd grown up with. Pam started to fade away from our minds. For a while.

As myself and my friends began to drive, I remember noticing a car quite a bit. You know that car you see repeatedly around the area you live in, you notice it more than the others, because you noticed it once and now you can't stop noticing it since you know it exists? You know it belongs to someone, but you've never seen the driver, just the car? It was like that. I'd notice it out of the corner of my eye at a stop light, or out the window of a restaurant as it drove past. I didn't think much of it, but I noticed it pretty much every time I was out; walking, driving and many times with my brother. I didn't understand how often I'd seen it until one day it clicked, and it startled me. It scared me. I saw it parked in my neighborhood and I remember thinking, 'That's that fucking car. What is it doing here?'... We lived in a smaller, older neighborhood. Most of the people who lived there had been there for a long time. We knew a lot of the neighbors and houses were pretty much never on the market. New people showed up maybe, once ever 5 or so years, and when they did, most people knew about it. So an out of place, but oddly familiar car came as a huge surprise to me.

I pointed it out to my brother, who had been in the car with me at the time. He said "Oh yeah, I've seen it a few times." I didn't feel right about it, but I assumed I was being paranoid.

A few months later, I was well into school, had a job and was too busy to let myself worry. Even though I did.

One day at work, I was wiping down tables in the front of the restaurant, as it was a pretty slow day, only a few people in the store. I remember seeing someone standing outside the front doors, just barely visible out the window. I was busy and assumed they were deciding where to have lunch, as another restaurant was directly next to ours and people did this often. They weren't there anymore and I assumed they'd gone next door. I went out to clear dishes off the front patio and clean up and I saw them walking away from the store, down the strip of businesses in the plaza. Back inside as I worked, I noticed the same person walked back and forth several more times. I was wary at this point as the person seemed to linger for about an hour. I didn't think anything of it afterwards, though.

I was a theater student and had to take some time off for a play I was in. Come opening night, I was so burnt out, I didn't notice anything, even if it was out of the ordinary. My family came opening night, the 4th show and closing night. Leaving with my family from the 4th show is when I snapped back into my anxiety ridden reality. That car was in the parking lot. It was parked a few rows away from my parents' car. I had never seen it at my school before and I knew it didn't belong to any of my castmates. "What does Pam drive?" I asked my brother. "Pam? I don't know, why?" "That stupid car, it freaks me out. Its like, everywhere we are."

A few days later, I had an answer.

At closing night of my show, I went out into the lobby of the theater to greet everyone when we finished. I hugged my parents and my brother, but I noticed that they all looked distraught. My brother was visibly upset and my parents were trying to make conversation, the way they do to avoid something. "What happened?" I asked. "Uh, Pam. She was here." I sort of felt the color run out of my face. I didn't know how much what Pam had done had frightened me until then. "Did she leave?" "I don't know," My brother said, "don't worry about it."

I went and got my things and remembered how strangely violated I felt. That Pam had watched me for the past two hours without me knowing she was in the same state, let alone the same building.

I decided to go home straight away. We left the building and there she was. She was looking at her phone, standing at the mouth of one of the hallways in front of the theater. I stopped for a moment, but the four of us decided to walk as hurried as we could towards the parking lot, hoping to ignore her and breeze past her. She looked different; still skinny, but she wore makeup again. From a distance she looked almost like the old Pam. But as we got closer, she looked up from her phone and still had the vacant, animal quality to her face. A bit of anger flashed over her face as she noticed us. She looked like she was going to say something, but we all pretended to not notice her and continued on. She followed closely behind us, "Hey, wait a minute." At the front of the school, my brother stopped as we kept walking. I heard him say, "You need to stop." We got to our car and watched them talk from a distance. I wanted to get in our car and leave. My mom and I got in while my dad stood outside. Pam was yelling at my brother at this point. He made his way towards his car. Pam smiled artificially and waved towards my brother, shouting a goodbye to him as he went before storming off to her car. My brother stopped to talk to my dad a moment, got in his own car and left after Pam peeled out of the lot. In the same car I had been seeing for the past month and a half.

"Welp, just as crazy as ever." My dad said as he started the car, "We may need to call the police." We lived a short distance from the school, but I was shaken up and wanted my dad to drive as fast as possible. Every headlight we saw chilled me. I stared at my phone trying not to look out the window. I nearly dropped it.

We reached a street convergence in our neighborhood, at the stop sign to the right of us was her car. "Dad that's her." He drove straight and she turned the same direction. "Dad she's following us!" I had never felt quite so panicked. "Call the police, please." My dad said to my mother, his voice as level as ever. I stared out the back window, ducking low in my seat. My dad turned down another street and she followed again. "I'm gonna go in a circle, to see if she follows us, okay?" my dad said. I was crying at this point as I came to a realization. For 4 more turns, my mom spoke to a 911 operator, unable to accurately name streets, as they were not lit and it was pitch black outside. I laid across the back seat listening to my parents yell at each other, frustrated and I'm sure frightened, and my dad curse as she continued to follow more closely. The car was flooded with light as she turned on her brights, the grill of her car almost touching our bumper. My dad turned to mirror away to keep the light out of his eyes and sped the car up. Eventually the light was gone and I could no longer hear the drone of her engine behind us. She was gone.

We got home 10 minutes later and turned every light in our house on. My dad checked every closet and our back and side yards, carrying his gun with him. "She's been fucking watching me and [my brother]." I was almost hysterical in my realization.

For the past month, Pam had been stalking both my brother and I. Seeing that car had not been a coincidence. She knew what we were both doing; she came to my school function, on both nights my family was there (maybe all three nights). She knew where I was; she had followed me all over town, she'd been around our neighborhood and had been her lurking around my work place.

All of a sudden the threats became real. Pam was no longer afraid of crossing boundaries, if she ever had been. We were now in the middle of a full blown nightmare. My family was no longer safe. She had gone away to cure one disease, but returned having fed and grown another. She was our personal terrorist with the power to single-handedly pull our everyday lives apart. And she had already begun to do just that.

What may seem like the plot of a bad horror movie-- the psychotic ex-girlfriend reeking havoc-- became our reality, times ten. I cannot express to you how terrible it is to be kept awake by something you cannot see, but you know exists and is waiting for you when you get out of bed. I never expected a human being could terrify me more than any horrible monster or boogieman-- those things don't exist. I'm sharing this ordeal to help others understand warning signs and pressure those who see them to take action to protect themselves.

Despite the terror of that night, this was only halfway year 5 of 6. And things would continue to approach a boiling point.

After we told my brother about what Pam had done the night after my show, he finally began to confide in me the details of his relationship with Pam. She had come to his high school as a sophomore during his senior year. She immediately caught the attention of my brother and his friends, as she was beautiful and expected to be reserved as a new student. However, my brother recalled his female friends saying she was aggressive in trying to make friends and liked to talk about how her family had moved here from an affluent community in Texas, so elite that it didn't have a name. Many of his friends also had gotten strange vibes from her and pinned her as a "weird, snobby girl" right away. My brother met her again a few years later when she came in to where he was working at the time and said how she had seemed to mature vastly. He took her on one date and almost immediately she wanted to officiate their relationship. He thought it was a bit forward, but didn't hesitate because she impressed him with her elegant way of speaking, kind words and pretty face.

However, he noticed red flags only a few weeks into their relationship. Pam was very insecure: constantly asking my brother if he still had feelings for her, if he was angry with her and if he thought she was attractive enough. Eventually this insecurity took a different shape. Pam would send my brother unsolicited nude pictures of herself in the middle of the day attached to messages asking if he still liked the way her body looked. If my brother went a period of time in their conversations without calling her "beautiful" or telling her how nice she looked, Pam would point this out. If he protested in anyway she'd become emotional and claim he didn't love her anymore.

This behavior mellowed until the end of the second year of their relationship. This is when the narcissism became apparent. Pam would often talk lowly of my brother's previous girlfriends and female friends, boasting about how much more attractive she was than them. Pam refused to attended several of the events my brother asked her to go to (like my birthday dinner or our Aunt's funeral) because she "Wouldn't know anyone and would have no one to talk to". She also enjoyed referring to herself as a "princess" and wanting to constantly be doted upon. She often argued with my brother about him spending time with his friends without her because she didn't understand why he wanted to be around anyone but her. She was 100% convinced she would one day be a celebrity and marry my brother. (At this point I was in disbelief that my brother, a smart, kind and good looking man was wasting any more of his time with a girl who behaved like that.)

However, anytime my brother hinted at wanting to end the relationship, Pam would fly off the handle, becoming belligerent and promising to kill herself. My brother was trapped by the fear of her harming herself. He'd often think that she was simply bluffing and wouldn't actually do anything, but one day he discovered several bottles of prescription pills in Pam's home. He asked her about them and she told him that they were antidepressants prescribed to her after the death of her brother (a brother who he later found out never existed).

Eventually Pam began to become angry when my brother would want to spend time with his family without her around. He also told me that Pam fixated a lot of that anger on me. Once she proceeded to refer to me as a "slut" and made comments and theories about how my mother must have had an affair of which I was the product, because I was so ugly and my brother was not, so my brother decided it was time to end it no matter what. This information troubled me, as all of her actions following that (asking me to spend time with her, she wanting to be my friend, showing up at my school and the phone calls) seemed heinous, ill-intended and even more psychotic than they had been at the time.

But for the final year and a half of our ordeal with Pam, psychotic could not begin to explain what she did to us:

I slept little in the weeks following the car incident. My brother, who lived across town, visited and called more regularly. I suspected he felt as uneasy as I did. The nights I did sleep, I often sweat through nightmares of girls with axes or gowned women standing at the foot of my bed or in my window. One night in early December of 2015, it was a rainy and particularly windy night. I wanted to let the cold air in and I thought that the sound of rain would help me sleep, so I cracked the window only enough to where it could reach the second latch. I also placed the piece of wood my father had cut to help with security behind the window. I pulled my curtain in front of window, leaving the cracked part of the window uncovered to allow air to pass the heavy blackout curtain. I remember waking from sleep, vaguely hearing a foreign noise against the roof out my window. My room was on the second floor of our house. Our house had 3 levels and the "second story" was only 6 or 7 steps up from the primary floor of our house. All of the spaces where different levels, but the bedrooms where the highest, slightly lower than they'd be in a classic 2 story home. What I'm getting at is that my room was hard to get to from the outside, but not if you were aware of the parts of our home and the access points from other roof levels over the living room and garage.

I shook the noise off, as it was storming and I thought maybe some leaves or branches were moving around. I turned over to face the wall opposite my window. Not even a second later my room was illuminated by a surge of white light. I shot up in bed. I was momentarily paralyzed with horror. Every one of my limbs felt as if they were floating as I tried to make sense of what had happened. Then, again, myself and every item in my room became a black silhouette as another flash filled the space. I threw the blankets off of me and ran as fast as I could down the hallway. I was screaming so loud I surprised myself. I ran into my dad as he threw open his bedroom door. He was panicked and held me by my shoulders in the doorway to their bedroom and yelled at me to tell him what was wrong.

"Someone was taking pictures of me through my window!"

The roof and house was checked and they, of course, found nothing and no one. My mother sat up with me and asked every basic question a parent asks "Were you dreaming? Are you sure it wasn't lightening?" There was no thunder and I was sure that there had not been at the time it happened. The flashes did not have the same hue as lightening did. I had taken enough cell phone pictures in my life to identify the flash of a camera. I don't know if they believed me then, but I would eventually have proof that would astonish them.

My brother adopted Ike in January of 2016. Ike was a 2 month old Chesapeake Bay Retriever with one gold eye and one green eye. He had a very distinct white marking on his chest that looked like an hour glass and a white sock on his front left paw. Ike was the love of my brother's life, aside from his now fiancee, Kara. Ike would end our torture just 3 months later.

The holidays and my brother's engagement to Kara, who was amazing, beautiful and who's family we had known all our lives, had lifted my family's spirits immensely. My brother was starting his family, almost done with the police academy and seemed untouchable by any memory of Pam. We felt optimistic for the first time in a long time, Pam hadn't been around (to our knowing) in several weeks, all was normal and things were looking up. But that, again, didn't last.

A month or so after bringing him home, after letting him into the backyard for a few minutes by himself, Kara told us that Ike had escaped from the yard. She panicked and ran around the neighborhood looking for him. She got in her car, called me upset, and drove around the block looking for him. She picked me up and I helped her look in the creek area behind where my brother's house was. We couldn't find him. However, when we arrived back at my brother's house, Ike was sitting on the front porch. We were relieved as he was unharmed and seemed to be as happy as ever, despite missing his collar. I helped Kara check the yard for ways he could've gotten out. We both decided he must have shimmied through a small gap in the gate on the side yard. I couldn't help being confused to find no grass or burs in his fur.

We thought nothing of it.

A few weeks later, both my brother and Kara were going on a weekend trip with some friends and I offered to take care of Ike. They dropped him off on the Friday before the three day weekend. Ike was happy to play with our older lab, Dez. The second night he was with us, I was out with friends and my dad had let both the dogs into the yard at around 8pm. He sat in his chair in the living room watching a show with my mom. They say they remember hearing Dez barking because he yelled for him to be quiet. But they assumed the puppy was riling him up. A few minutes later Dez came to the door to be let in. He ran inside and barked at my dad. My dad was confused, as our dog was not a regular barker. He called for Ike but he didn't come. My dad went out and looked around in the bushes and still did not find him. He became concerned and hurried into the house to get a light. He checked the swimming pool and still did not find him. My mother joined him and they both scoured the large yard but did not find him.

When I got home, they had just finished searching the front and side yards. I told them that he had escaped once before, so we decided to take the car to look for him. As we drove around yelling for him, attracting the help of a few neighbors, I thought how strange it was that such a well behaved puppy had suddenly become a master escape artist in the past three or so weeks. Our yard had seen 3 or so dogs grow up in it, some younger and smaller than Ike, and we had never had that problem. The fences were high and well built and my dad had replaced the ones on the side of the house just a few summers ago.

We did not find him.

I hoped that he'd return that night, like he did last time, but he didn't. I informed my brother on Sunday and proceeded to look all day in surrounding areas, the pound, shelters, vet clinics and even looked to the sides of roads from bodies. We found nothing.

My brother was heartbroken. I helped him make fliers to post in our neighborhood and his.

A couple weeks past and we heard nothing.

My dad was doing yard work in mid-February. He came in after a few hours and he set something on the kitchen table. "What's that?" I knit my brow as I saw it. "It's Ike's collar, it was in the front yard, I almost hit it with the mower. You'll have to take it to your brother." It was Ike's collar. His first collar. Not the one he had been wearing the night he went missing from our yard. It was his puppy collar, which he had lost the day he got out of the yard at my brother's house.

I called Kara and asked her if they had found it, and she said they hadn't and had bought him a new one.

That's when it clicked. Someone had stolen my brother's dog not once, but twice.

I told my brother, Kara and my parents my theory and it was not a difficult one for them to understand. It had to be connected to everything else.

Right when we thought she was out of our lives...

We decided to take it to the police to add to our case file on Pam. I also told them about the night I had been photographed from my window. The police, like many times before, told us they could not do anything, as there was no proof she had done any of these things.

Frustrated, defeated and frightened again.

But a few short weeks later, in April of 2016, new developments would finally end it all.

By complete, God-sent coincidence, Kara was with her mother in a small town 45 minutes away from ours. We were planning for my 17th birthday that month and so preoccupied we almost put Pam and the fact that she undoubtedly had been watching us for months and had stolen, probably killed, my brother's puppy and thrown his collar in our front yard to help us connect the dots and give her credit for the crime. However, while Kara window shopped in the center of the town, she and her mother noticed a car parked on the street. A car with a puppy in it. It was a bit warm out, so they walked to the window and peeked in at the animal. Kara immediately recognized him by his eyes and the marking on his chest (and the fact that he began crying as soon as she called his name and he saw her).

She phoned the police, phoned my brother and sat on the back trunk of the car. The police arrived as the owner of the car came back to it. The girl was immediately upset by the presence of the police and Kara's angry accusations. The girl was not Pam, and she became rather helpful. The girl said that she had purchased the dog only a few days ago from an add online. She told police that the girl she purchased her from was "super shady" and eager to get rid of the dog who was skinny and a very cheap price. The girl who had sold her the dog claimed that she "didn't want the stupid dog, it was a present from her boyfriend, but it was the wrong kind". Pam had always liked small dogs. She told the police that she had met the girl to purchase the dog at an apartment complex a few minutes from where they were, but that she wasn't sure what apartment the girl lived in.

The police, after Kara had informed them of our situation, used Pam's name to find out that she indeed lived in the apartment complex with two roommates. They interviewed Pam's roommates the next day, but Pam was not there. They told detectives that they almost never saw Pam, her room was always locked and she was almost always gone. She didn't have a job, though she claimed to have one, and her mother was there a lot checking up on her and dropping off her rent to them. However, when they did speak to her, she talked a lot about her past relationship and switched between how much she loved him and his family to how they all "deserved to die" and were "going to hell".

With the information given by the girl who had purchased Ike and by Pam's roommates, the police finally had sufficient evidence to search Pam's apartment. I don't know much about what they found, but what I do know horrified my family and horrified me. On Pam's computer they found hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of my brother, my parents, Kara and of me. Our cars, our houses, my school, my brother's school, of Ike. Pictures taken through our windows at night. Picture of us sleeping. Photos taken from our social media of vacations, the picture of my brother's proposal to Kara, she had even doctored herself into some of them. She still had pictures of her and my brother and her with my family up around her room. She had kept Ike in her closet for weeks on a towel and with just water and little food. In her search history they found everything from rape-fantasy and other violent pornography to weapon research.

The police now had sufficient evidence to arrest Pam.

Pam had been obsessively stalking my family for more than a two years. She had stalked us from her car, following us around town. It had been her snapping photos of me from the roof outside my window. She had watched my brother drop Ike off at our house. She had documented her opinions of us, our habits and her plans in a journal which we will not get to see until the case is taken to trial next month. My brother, myself, my father, the girl we found Ike with, Pam's roommates, several of my brother's friends and Pam's mother will testify against her. It will be the first face to face interaction any of us will have had with her in many months and I am terrified.

And I'm angry. I'm angry that an evil, narcissistic, malevolent, psychotic parasite like her had latched onto my brother, onto my family and single-handedly stripped us of our security, our sanity and our trust. Every creak, every bump, every unknown face and every vehicle following too closely will send me into a tailspin of dread and I'll see her again, standing in my front yard in her dress and looking up to the sky with a vacant, animalistic gaze.

My life became a real horror story. Not because of a haunted house or because of an ax wielding murderer. But because of a sick girl with a broken mind and a fixation on something unobtainable. I'm 17 years old and I've experienced an ordeal most will read and think is a sad attempt at a thrilling fiction post. My family is healing, I'm healing and she did NOT break us.

I hope that this story helps anyone who has gone through something similar feel not so alone. I hope that those of you who read this and think of someone who shows the same warning signs as Pam did, are now prepared to take action to protect yourselves. Don't wait until things get as bad as they got for me. Be aware of the power of mental instability and the danger behind it.

[amongushq]

Welcome (back) to Among Us, DANA! ALICE AATTO ( with the faceclaim of  PENELOPE MITCHELL ) has found shelter in NEW ATHENS and NEW ROME, where we hope SHE will fit in nicely. Please make sure to check the “after applying” section of our navigation here!

Alice’s backstory is such an original one. Not only is she an Amazon for the second time in her life, she was also a werewolf. The fact that she cured herself of this terrible fate only shows what a strong person she is. Her not liking to talk about herself is quickly solved by your inclusion of a para, showing us everything that happened to her after her bite. It’s going to be very interesting to not only see her interact with the other Amazons and inhabitants of the cities and camp, but also to see what city she chooses as her residence until she’s allowed to go back to Seattle. Her perspective regarding demigods and legacies is one we haven’t seen before either, and it was generally just a nice application to read. We’re interested to see what she brings to the dashboard!

AND YOU ARE…?

What is your full name, and when were you born?

The blonde sits up straight in her seat, looking tense but it’s easy to tell that this is her default. She looks like she’s on guard for something or nervous about being interviewed. She doesn’t like to talk about herself and there are things in her past that she would rather not discuss anymore. Still, she smiles at the interviewer. Clearly it’s a forced one but at least she’s trying. “My name is Alice Rhiannon Aatto and I was born on December 10, 1992. My mom is an Amazon and I guess I’m considered one of the legacies. You know, they have to keep the Amazons going somehow even if some of them are more old-fashioned than others.” Her smile falters for a moment before she lets out a laugh. “Sorry, I just thought of something funny. It was nothing, really. Nothing to worry about. Anyway, what about you?” She flashes the interviewer a toothy grin. “What’s your name and birthday? I mean It’s only fair if you tell me yours now that you know mine. Don’t you agree?”

Have you been claimed, or do you belong to a legacy? If yes, state your godly parent / heritage.

Alice let out another laugh. “You see, my mother wasn’t very clever. She actually named me after our legacy, you see. I’m a third generation legacy of Alce. My grandmother was a daughter of Alce and my mother ran away and joined the Amazons when she was about…15. Sh’e always had this weird thing about being the strongest and the best at everything. Maybe it comes with Alce? I mean you can’t really live up to being a legacy of the goddess of battle strength if you’re a weakling, can you?” Alice thought back to the time when she was on the run. Scrawny, scraggly, and barely what someone could call a ‘healthy’ weight. If anyone had seen her then, they would think she was a totally different person than the one sitting in front of them and, in truth, she was. She’d gotten healthy again, colored her hair, and worked hard to get back into the good graces of the most important Amazons. Sometimes she had the feeling that she wasn’t entirely there yet, but it didn’t matter. Her mother and the few cousins she had in the Amazons had accepted her back with open arms and so had a few of the others. Some in secret, of course. But she couldn’t really blame them after what had happened.

“I happen to like being a legacy more than I would like being the child of a god. Can you imagine what kind of hell that would be? No offense if you are, but it’s hard enough living with someone’s legacy on your shoulders. Make one wrong move and you can ruin it for your whole immediate family. I would be terrified of being smited if I made one wrong move if I was someone with a direct connection to a god,” Alice nods her head. She knows a lot about ruining things for her family with one decision. The interviewer didn’t have to know that though. But what if they already did? What if they already knew and they were just interviewing her to see how good she was at hiding who she really is. What she really went through? That was a possibility that seemed to be running through her head more often than not lately when anyone tried to be to nice to her or too welcoming. Still, if anyone really knew about the things she did, she doubted that they would be having such a pleasant conversation with her at all.

Where are you currently based? Are you attending a Camp (Half-Blood / Jupiter), or are you living full-time in New Athens / New Rome? Is it a combination of both?

Alice tilts her head curiously. She immediately went to answer Seattle but the Recall had ruined that. “For now? I’m bouncing back and forth through the two cities. I can’t decide which one I like more at the moment.” She flashes them a charming smile.

Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? ( If you’re applying for a canon character, are you diverging from book-canon? If so, how?)

This was where the girl dropped the charming, innocent act. Her expression turns cold and she leans forward in her chair, looking more like a predator ready to strike than anything. “Listen, buddy. I don’t have to tell you anything except for the fact that I was born an Amazon and now I probably have to spend until my death trying to get back into the good graces of everyone else. Understood?” She paused and waited until the interviewer gave a weak nod.

What were you doing prior to the Recall?

Since the Recall, she’d found herself living in certain fear.  Fear that people would find out about the monsters that live in the dark and haunt their nightmares. People finding out that those were real might be worse than finding out about demigods, but the interviewer didn’t need to know that. “Prior to the Recall? I was stationed back at the Amazon Headquarters so my mother and everyone else could keep a closer eye on me.” She drums her fingers on the arm of the chair, staring at the interviewer until they motioned that she could leave.

SHOWTIME!

Dusk

Alice Aatto never believed the things her mother said to her. Sure, she knew that things that go bump in the night existed and that they were more dangerous than people could possibly even imagine but she didn’t have any idea what would happen to her. Alice was 17 when she ventured away from the small group of Amazons, consisting of her mother and her cousins for the most part, that she was traveling with at the time. She was young and ignorant and she paid for it. Her mother followed the sounds of Alice’s panicked screaming into the woods and by the time she found her, whatever had attacked her was long gone, yet Alice was close to falling unconscious. Blood was everywhere and it was cited as a miracle that the animal (Alice insisted it was after all and there were no other witnesses) hadn’t killed her.

There was no hint that anything was wrong for a few more weeks. Alice returned to her full health very quickly to the surprise of her mother and the other Amazons who knew about the attack. The blonde was careful as anything to keep the bite hidden from anyone; insistent on the fact that the thing had healed just fine with ambrosia and nectar, there was no getting her to show anyone so the point was moot. She’d even fooled herself into thinking everything else was fine until the full moon hit. She’d told her mother that she was too tired and not feeling well to avoid going to dinner and she ended the night early, though not in the way most people would imagine. Alice knew that someone catching her would get her killed, so the second that her fingernails started the painful transformation, she slammed herself as hard as she could into her bathroom door in a panic. Unconsciousness came, along with a rather annoying mark on her forehead the next morning and she still found herself with the soles of her feet dirty.

The fear of not knowing led her to confide in her cousin. Her closest cousin who she had grown up with for as long as she can remember but her cousin betrayed her by telling her mother. Her mother couldn’t have anyone knowing, of course, so she made up a lie that Alice had been sent on a special scout approved personally by Hylla which most people knew better than to question. Instead, Alice spent the next few months locked up in her own personal prison. Her mother had rented an abandoned house close enough to the headquarters that it would be easy to keep an eye on anything. The only sign of anything different were the howls that echoed from the direction of that little house everytime the full moon came around, until one day when Alice’s cousin didn’t manage to slip through the door quick enough. The now 18 year old, delirious from being locked up for so long in her own personal hell, bashed her cousin over the head with a coffee pot and ran.

The new found stamina was certainly a gift as she found she didn’t stop running until she was almost out of Washington state entirely. She was a deserter now, a traitor to her own family. It could be a lot worse, though. She could be being tortured or just shot and put down like some kind of rabid animal. It was thoughts like this that kept Alice going while she was on the run by herself.  No amount of good thoughts could replace human needs like food, water, and a place to sleep. Alice found herself living like an animal and within the first 5 months she’d turned into something that her family probably wouldn’t recognize. The only way she could describe herself was as feral. She was wild and totally untamed, stealing food from trash cans behind diners and restaurants in order to sustain herself. The food was enough to help her cope at first until one day the smell of hot food hit her and she went into what could best be described as a frenzy. Alice jumped out at the person, stole their entire bucket of KFC, and ran off with it. She was glad as ever that her mother wasn’t there when the boy caught her because the threat of her first hot meal in months being taken from her drove the Amazon to tears. Maybe it was the hysterics that made him change his mind, but he shared his food with her and she learned very quickly that he was like her.

Full Moon

Alice hated being on the run more than anything else in the world. Sure she was a werewolf now, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to spend her whole life wandering trying to find somewhere safe to call home. She wanted to go back to Seattle and beg for forgiveness, beg for help, and hope that they wouldn’t return the favor by killing her on the spot. Instead, she kept running like it was the only thing she would know for the rest of her life. Plus, she wasn’t alone now and that made it easier. She was praised like she was a goddess in her own right and told how she was special and for someone who had spent her whole life waiting to get some sort of recognition, it was great.

And great it was for a while until she had her eyes opened. It all started when they’d made their way to New York. It was closer to the borders of Camp Half Blood, as close as monsters like them could get in fact when they met a few rogue demigods. Alice had announced herself as a legacy of Alce and had denied their courtesy when they offered for her to come in. The war between the Romans and Greeks was over now, after all. One of them, a girl who had to be 15 at most, made a passing comment about how she wished she could meet something that was mystical or different. Alice stared at the girl, the expression on her face a mix of panic and pity, “No you really don’t.” Alice had taken it like it was, a comment made by a little girl who had no way of knowing that the people she was talking to were actually the monsters that people talked about in storybooks.

Her partner didn’t take it that way, though, and made a comment about killing the girl before she told someone. Alice wasn’t too sure if he was being entirely serious or not, but it still scared her. After all, above everything else, she still felt it was part of her mission in life to protect people. Years on the run can change you, but she’d been an Amazon for far longer than she’d been a monster. Little pieces started to fall into place after that and it didn’t take long to realize that it was like making a deal with the devil and she wanted out. So one night, not at all close to the full moon, she left without taking anything in the middle of the night and caught as many buses as it had to take to get back to Seattle.

Dawn

Just because she was back in Seattle didn’t mean she was ready to face anyone she knew.  She was still a werewolf and that was a problem that wasn’t going to fix itself. Alice rented a crappy little apartment which just so happened to be across from someone who was a practicing Wiccan who was in a phase of making potions. That was in her mind the second she started looking into werewolf cures. Wolvesbane was what she needed but it could be poisonous if taken in large doses. Through connections she thought were long lost, she managed to get her hands on a sufficient amount of ambrosia and nectar that she thought would get her through.

Over the course of a few days, she dealt with the convulsions, nausea and other symptoms of wolvesbane poisoning. Fighting back death every time with a piece of ambrosia and a drink or two of nectar. Finally, the real test had arrived. It was the night of the full moon and even though Alice felt weaker than she’d ever felt  she managed to sit up on her couch and watch the moon rise through the windows of her apartment. It took a while for it to register in her brain fogged with sickness but the moon had no effect on her.

Alice took another few weeks to fully recover, mostly due to the help of the nectar and ambrosia, before she decided that it was time. So she bid her neighbor a fond goodbye and took cab as close as she could to the Amazon Headquarters where she knew her mother would be. Walking with a slight limb, she pushed her way through the front door and hobbled up to the front desk. The woman behind the desk tried her best to hide her shock as Alice shot her a wicked smile.

“Alice, you look like hell.”

“Thanks, I just crawled out of it. Now can I speak to my mother please? We have a lot to talk about.”