#anyways pls enjoy my barely understandable ramblings

[andrewsleftarmband]

TGR SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

-

-

Okay I’m back for some more rambling incoherency, and this time I want to talk about Aaron’s trial.

I have been DYING for any information about the trial since I read the kings men and the EC. I was hoping that we’d get some sort of info in tgr, and honestly Nora gave us more than I thought she would (thank you so much mother)

Lets start with this

My first time reading this I immediately wondered if he waived the jury for andrews sake, and now I’m absolutely convinced that that is what happened. Now im just wondering if Aaron did it without being asked, or if it came from Andrew himself.

I’ll bet so much that the only reason Kevin’s focus stayed on exy is because it’s his crutch. I think kevin was more affected than he let on to Jeremy, and I’ll bet he channeled all of that into being absolutely insufferable on the court.

I wonder what those couple weeks leading up to it were like. I wonder how many joint (and solo) sessions were devoted to trial preparation. I wonder if anyone was able to look anyone else in the eye. I wonder if Neil was already planning to use his mafia family influence to potentially get Aaron out of prison. I wonder if Andrew spoke a single word. I have so many thoughts omg

I’m glad that Nora kept Betsy going with Andrew. The EC stated that neil made an appointment with her just to tell her that Andrew needed her. That he was going to see Cass, and he needed a mother. Betsy being there makes me think this is still canon, and I fucking love that so much. Betsy and Andrew will always get me so soft omg.

I fucking love this so much. That’s my BOY right there!!!!!! Oh, I’m sorry, you want to step out of line and then the worst parts of someone’s life into a sensationalist cover story? Get fucked cunt.

Really though, imagine being Andrew, nerves already frayed because you have to go and say OUT LOUD the worst things that have ever happened to you, and show everyone your weakest points. Imagine already hanging on by a fucking thread, because you’re giving everyone a knife and turning your back. And then someone walks right up to that last thread you’re hanging onto with some scissors. I’d have snapped too. I love how Jeremy notes that it was bee who got Andrew to go inside instead of go after the camera man. She really is his rock and I love it so much.

I find this absolutely fascinating. First off, the visuals are *chefs kiss*, that was probably a fantastic photo, as disreputable as it was. But there’s a lot going on here.

First, Jeremy mentions Andrew and Kevin are as far away from each other as possible with Neil halfway in between. I know there is some symbolism there, but I can’t quite put my finger on why Neil in the middle is so significant.

I wonder who was avoiding who. Was Andrew avoiding Kevin because how could he be Kevin’s protector now? How could Kevin see him as someone strong when everyone knows now how weak he is? He can’t be near Kevin because he can’t be near the reminder of his failures.

Was Kevin avoiding Andrew? Andrew is unshakable. Andrew is unbreakable. Except he isn’t, and Kevin knows that now. He’s known it since November, but now he has to deal with it. And maybe the reminder that Andrew is breakable is a reminder that he is too. That he can’t always put a barrier between him and his problems. But maybe Kevin was scared of Andrew. Maybe he expected him to explode, rage boiling over and in need of a target. Maybe he was remembering fingers around his throat. Or maybe he was worried he’d set Andrew off. Didn’t want to cause any more discomfort for him.

I don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

And then Neil, not sure who he was supposed to be following. Should he follow andrew and try to be there as some kind of support? Should he try to offer some comfort or maybe even just a cigarette and some company? Or should he follow Kevin, and make sure Kevin doesn’t lose it on the stand? Maybe he should go with Kevin, because Andrew can’t be with him right now but Kevin still needs someone. Maybe he should be what Andrew can’t and watch over his charge.

In the end, he goes with Kevin. I wonder if Andrew looked back to give him a nod, some sort of signal to go after Kevin. I wonder if he kept walking without looking, and Neil in his near perfect understanding of this boy knows that he can’t be around another person right now. Kevin needs him now, maybe Andrew will need him later.

I wonder if the reason Kevin never responded to Jeremy was because he got himself fucking obliterated as soon as he was back from the courthouse. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Now THIS is probably one of my favorite moments from the trial. I don’t often think of Nicky as being one to fly off the handle, but I know he can. There’s definitely a couple times in the books he throws a punch, I just can’t remember the specifics right now.

But anyways, I wonder how much of this was anger and how much was grief. I imagine it was a bit of both. Nicky loves his parents so much. Or at least he did. And seeing them on the courthouse must have reopened every single wound they’ve ever inflicted on him because how could he do this? His own father let Drake upstairs. On the surface, this is easily pinned all on Luther. But I wonder if Nicky was blaming himself too. Blaming himself for making everyone go, for not noticing what was up with Andrew, for not understanding that he isn’t a monster, for all the times he came on too strong and made terrible jokes and oh goodness how couldn’t he have known?

I think this confrontation was a boiling over of a rage and a grief that he’s been burying for a long time. Rage over what happened to Andrew, what his parents did to him, how his parents set up the attack in November. Rage over what Aaron had to do. And then grief, for his childhood, and his cousins childhood, and for the parents he thought he knew. This was the last straw, and he’s never giving them another chance. How could he? Maybe it’s that old old pain, the why don’t they love me? That’s finally boiling over. And honestly, good for him.

The fact that security practically bodied him up the stairs is telling. He was going at it. He was losing it. And I think he needed that. Nicky has really been through it, but he hasn’t really worked through any of it. And he had to confront all of it and then some on those court steps.

I wonder if he cried through his testimony. If he was sorting through every memory he had of Andrew from the time he took guardianship to that very day, looking for signs and all the ways he should have helped. All the ways he failed.

I wonder if he got wasted with Kevin.

The last big thing I want to point out is this. I’m honestly rather surprised that Kevin thinks Aaron getting all charges dismissed is unexpected. The case is very very clear cut, there’s hardly any argument you could make that this wasn’t defensive. Maybe there’s something we don’t know, some angle the prosecution was taking that could have ended badly, but I don’t think so.

What this also made me think of was the back up plans in case Aaron actually did end up in prison. I wonder if Andrew was already planning to switch and take his place, or if he was considering something more violent like Kevin suggests. I wonder if Neil was already in contact with his crime people, trying to find the right people to take the case so it’d be in their favor. I wonder how many arguments Neil and Andrew had about that, because I can imagine Andrew wanting to protect Aaron himself. Wanting to be the one making sure it goes right, not trusting anyone else with his brother. Maybe even Neil. There’s so much to think about.

One small note I want to make is Katelyn going with Aaron every day but the first. I wonder if Andrew or Aaron or even Neil told her to do that, or if it was her prerogative. Either way it’s so respectful I love it.

I loved everything about this, I really have been so obsessed with Aaron’s trial. Definitely one of my favorite things from the book omg. Sorry if I’m incoherent as fuck I just have so many thoughts. I can’t wait to read fox pov fics of this omg.

[elsfairy]

OMG OMG ok so like what if sev like was dealing with a really drunk reader and (when you say things when your drunk their sober thoughts) SO LIKE reader is saying all these nice things about Sevika and how much they want her baby’s and get married to her and how drop dead gorgeous she really is while laying in her bed and then at the end reader climbs on top of sev and raps their arms around her neck nuzzling their head into the crook of her neck. And whispers to her “I really mean all of this cause Ik you think I’m only saying it cause I’m sooooooo tipsyyyy *giggle* goodnight sevyyyy” and they like pass out. I wonder how sev would react. I was wondering if you could write this thought I have into like scenarios or a fanfic if not that’s totally fine I completely understand YOUR WRITINGS ARE AMAZING I LOVE THEM 💗💗💗💗 sending lots of loveee to youuu hun!

a/n: I love love love love this pls 😭 i would have done modern!sevika but.... also, sorry this is taking so long to get out, im not okay mentally, and the amount of times I have redone this bc it sucked makes me sick. slightly tweaked some stuff but it's there i swear. Idk how i feel about this i won't lie. ilysm w/c: 1.1k

───── LIQUORED UP

First of all, out of the two, Sevika can handle her alcohol so much better than you. So after a few glasses of whatever you had chosen to drink, you're already giggly and hammered by her side, mumbling out random sentences that make no sense but, you're happy, she can see you're happy and enjoying yourself.

"C'mon Sweetheart, drink some water then we can go home yeah? That's it, gotta take care of my girl"

You're extra clingy whenever you drink, so even though you were drunk out of your mind, you both knew it was going to take a little longer to leave the bar, and go home. she's protective of you anyway, but knowing you're drunk she's more protective, holding you close to her, keeping her hand on your lower back. although if you can barely stand, then she's carrying you in her strong arms. (yummy)

You know when a kid likes to run off because they've seen something that makes them happy? You're like that, all excited and gushy about everything, so she has to make sure to hold onto you just a little tighter, pushing people away just to be able to get you out the bar, and on the right path to your home. she could literally lose you amongst people so she needs to take extra precaution.

"Vika, don't wanna move.."

"Hey, i know, but won't it feel good to get home and be warm? it's not that much further"

I can imagine the slow walk home, she's holding you up and guiding you the whole way. chuckling but smiling at how much you're stumbling, obviously she won't let you fall but she just thinks it's cute :( and the way you're rambling about stuff that still makes no sense? girl got it bad for you.

drunk as hell, giggly as fuck but to her you looked so free and so beautiful. sure your makeup was now ruined because of how much you laughed and the tears staining your now rosy cheeks from crying because you had laughed so much, so hard but she's never seen you be such a free spirit in this world. you were truly the definition of perfection.

it wasn't long until she had taken it upon herself to carry you the rest of the way home like she did every time you got drunk. worried you'd end up falling and severely hurting yourself. it was like having your guardian angel. she truly did protect you, even more in a vulnerable state. "you're so strong, Vika.." You'd mutter, giggling into the skin of her neck, oblivious to the sudden heat rising there.

"yeah? does it impress you, Sweet?"

"mhm, all the time.."

it was a gentlewoman thing she did, she will neve lets you untie or take off your own shoes. that was her job, and always do things for you when you weren't completely 100% there. your drunk brain had you swaying, hand on her broad shoulder, trying to keep yourself up as she carefully slipped them off your sore feet, shoving them by the door. so gentle and caring towards you. "so kind to me, what would i do without you, Sev?"

"sleep without me pestering you for a kiss before i go to work every morning is a start. Go and get these clothes off, I'll bring you some water and something to eat, sober you up a little alright?"

the room was cold, too cold for your liking but that was your own fault for leaving the window wide open, knowing Sevika would complain about the chill, still though without a doubt would cuddle you to warm you up. she was so loving towards you, even if you did have days where you were a brat, endlessly annoying the shit out of her. she never shouted at you, or complained, she just loved you and took care of you.

"Hey, got your snacks and water. lemme take your makeup first then you can eat this, and sleep, okay?"

Another thing she did, won't even let you take your own makeup because she simply enjoyed doing that for you. you were also drunk as fuck so you would miss every patch. you watched in awe, watched the way she was quick to rush into the bathroom, coming back seconds later with a damp cloth. "Vika, can i tell you something..?"

She found it amusing you spoke like you were trying to tell her some sort of secret, but shook her head amused anyway. "give me a minute Sweetness, gotta get this off your face. you'll wakeup and cry if i don't"

the movement of the cloth against your face was slow, gentle even. she never rushed this part, she adored the way you looked at her with soft wide eyes, a small pout and overly entranced with her. loved to stroke your face, admiring you. booping your nose, adored the giggle she gained from her action. "You're so beautiful Vika.." you sigh, poking her cheek.

"Me? you should see you, angel"

alcohol made you more tired than usual, so it wasn't a surprise to Sevika when you crawled onto her body, snuggling your face into her neck, that deep blush returning on your face when she pulls you more into her chest. "Vika can i tell you now?"

"Right, of course Sweet"

"Just really want you to know that i think you are so beautiful.. i don't know why you don't accept my compliments or whatever.. but i hope you know that I'm telling the truth.. I'd never lie to you.. you're so pretty.. so pretty i want to cry when someone else looks at you, but i can't blame them.. you're the prettiest of all pretty things.. you wanna know something else? wanna marry you Vika, you make me feel so safe and loved.. you're so kind and gentle with me.. i wanna wake up to know you're my wife.. wanna have children with you.. grow up so they can be strong like you are.. kind like you are.. really want a family with you Vika.. love you so much.."

the abrupt end to your giggle told her your ass somehow quickly fell asleep, head snuggled right in the crook of her neck, your breath fanning her now hot skin. she didn't ignore your compliments, she loved them but she kept it hidden because she's never been told how beautiful she is. until she met you.

her heart was beating way too fast, the heat on her face was oblivious to you in your deep slumber but she felt warm. your words warmed her heart. you have had this feeling and thought for a while? to marry her? you wanted to start a family with her? have children together? the hand on your back halted, and lips grazed your forehead.

"I'd marry and have a family with you in a heartbeat, Sweetheart"

[merchantarthurn]

it's funny that 2/3 of the companions i ship astarion (the 3 being halsin, wyll and karlach) with are people who are objectively just lovely, selfless people but in a way that's just... too far. both in their own ways don't acknowledge they give/have given too much away for the good of others and a big part of the healing they need is setting even a single limit on what's "too far".

(under the cut cos it got long but this is more a ramble about character dynamics than romantic stuff so please enjoy even if you don't care for the 'ship' aspect. ive also got a LOT to say about karlach but i don't here im sorry i love her so much pls--)

wyll's willing to give his immortal soul (TWICE) for the sake of a city and father that turned his back on him with barely a moment to reflect on the unfairness to himself (at least in a 'and that's why it shouldn't be expected of me' way, anyway). halsin's given a hundred years of devoted research to the shadowcursed lands and cut himself off from deeper connections in order to remain committed to lifting the curse, not the mention the way he skirts around really acknowledging his trauma from the Underdark as a trauma instead of just a Fun Halsin Fact!TM

now... like all relationships between companions this is a compelling area without any romantic undertones, this is more what's driving my interest in the ships at all, but i find the above level of self-sacrifice really interesting in contrast to astarion. similarly, setting boundaries doesn't initially come naturally to him - he's not in the practice of being able to say no, and getting through the 'disgust' is something he tries to handwave as worth it for the rewards. but when in control, he's very much got selfish goals in mind. personal safety, mostly, being considered useful enough to keep around under the protection of the artefact. and in addition his moral compass is very much not aligned with the above, but does seem to shift in that direction the more compassion he's shown. it's never all the way flipped but... still.

two things that are interesting about that - both the selfish and selfless goals are, in isolation, completely understandable? save a city? well that's a good thing! protect yourself? can't argue with that!! but "no matter the cost to my mental and physical health" ooh never mind. astarion is, out of the three, seemingly much better positioned to understand and admit that? which is what's particularly interesting about either wyll or halsin's relationship (romantic or not) with him. cos any efforts they make to help astarion out with his own boundary issues and healing creates a big ol' elephant in the room with their own deal that i think astarion would, like, push back on y'know? he's already incredulous about heroes and do-gooders for both understandable and dnd-evil reasons but once an established rapport comes into play, then you get that incredibly tasty dimension of "okay, so you spent all that energy encouraging me not to loan myself out to make us stronger but you're gonna sell your eternal soul to a demon for a bit of information? and you're going to keep neglecting any aspect of your life that isn't shadow-curse related, to the point where you rushed in to enemy territory without regard for your safety and would have died if we hadn't stepped in?"

it's just such a chewable way of a bond developing right? both sides changing each other with something they initially might have found deplorable/insufferable about the other? but it both ultimately resulting in healthier boundary setting and the valuing of their own bodies and hhrhghruguhgguh. which is the sort of thing i Need when it comes to ships. man. oog. the list of little scenes i need to write gets longer by the second i swear. we can add shadowheart to the "dynamics i need to explore with wyll" list too ahrghr oogrhg

it's also making bl**dweave conceptually more interesting as an antithesis to this although i honestly haven't stumbled on anything that actually fits this particular niche so [handwaves] but to me that's two men who are gonna make each other Worse actually (this is not inherently a bad thing for Drama but all im saying is im pretty sure if you put those two together for too long you'll end up with a god + ascended ending ok). censoring the ship name cos i see much more fluffy stuff and im not here to ruin fun with opposing headcanons in a search ahaha

[mono-dot-jpeg]

aaitl hcs - zhongli

summary; i ramble about hcs i thought of while writing "another adeptus in the line".

a/n; will i make a series out of this? idk. i would love to don't get it twisted, i strongly enjoy writing found family and child reader bc i lack family affection. however, i just think it would be hard for me to write conflict to keep it interesting.

i thought about making it an open tag for those who like this and wants to write about it. making it like a cute wholesome community thing!

but also i thought just not making the series tbh. idk if my braincell can handle making another series and keep up with my other series.

here's a poll,,, so feel free to help my indecisive ass decide

so,,, you're a dragon hybrid!! you took on a form similar to zhongli's dragon form

you have small horns growing in from the top of your head, once they grow out, they become a really brown to pretty amber orange ombre

you also have a tail! it's sort of wide at the base and then thinner at the end

it looks like an axlotl tail!! it matches the color of your hair and it also has a pretty orange ombre at the end

anyways, the story of how you became a child to zhongli

you were merely just a protector of mingyun village, meant to protect those who mined late into the night to bring riches to their family

you had no physical form but rather a spiritual one. similar to venti and his past form of an wind spirit, you took the form of dust spirit. but you didn't have any sight.

it's not like you needed sight, you could feel and hear the world around you

but it was bitter. you heard everyone in the village be happy but then, the mining village was empty

no one lived in it anymore

you were tied to the village, unable to explore the world.

while you lived as long as some other gods or immortals (though you could be considered very much younger than those gods), you knew nothing of the world you stayed in and longed for knowledge.

you wanted to see the world.

zhongli had remembered your presence in mingyun village even after all these years. he visited you.

you had told him of your struggles and your longing to really see and experience everything

"i can help you with that, little one."

he offered a contract. you would live alongside him as a hybrid, but you would have to protect liyue as you become of age to do so

you were more than happy to accept, one small problem, you didnt know what he meant by living alongside him as a hybrid

and before you knew it, you were a small dragon hybrid, not even close to 1/4 of zhongli's height and with a sudden urge to chew on something.

at first your mind was much more mature than it was in the present, but you succumbed to the child urges within you and now here you are as small child with bonking urges

yeah, when your mind was much more mature, he explained how he had transferred your age into much more simplified human years

turns out you were only 300 in spirit years, soon changing to 3 years old once the deal was made

your love language is bonks, i do not take any criticism

you just bonk your forehead against whatever you want

it gets zhongli very concerned when you just keep bonking your head against his chest sometimes

like do you want his attention? do you have a headache? he never knows

when you grow up, you become as tall as zhongli, maybe a little bit taller and it makes xiao so mad bc you tease him for it

when you first you met azhdaha and you both have this weird staring contest before you shout "big puppy!" both him and zhongli are very much confused until you start trying to climb him

please give the old man a break, he lost his gnosis, that's enough for him 😔

you get zoomies like a cat or dog and you just run around the house, trying to sound like a scary dragon yelling "roar!!" in like tiny font bc you lack the ability to be loud

not only bc you're a child, but bc you never learned how to talk as a spirit, you're really bad at speaking or articulating your words

it's really cute to zhongli when you try to say some words

hutao fucking LOVES YOU SO MUCH

she always tries to make it bring your kid to work day, just to make zhongli bring you over but he doesn't do it often

he dreads having you learn the concept of death

you never knew much about it when you were a spirit, but even if you did know, your mind was regressed into that of a child, so you barely remember your memories as a spirit.

xiao is always ready to square up with you. pls he does not care if you're a child

he calls you brat, demon, troublemaker all affectionately

you always love playing with his necklace but you have really sharp teeth once you get past the terrible twos phase, and xiao keeps a close eye on you in hopes to have you not break any beads or the blunt arrowhead on the necklace

zhongli has bite marks on his clothes bc of you

he does have some bites on his ankles too bc of you

people think he has a dog, no it's just you

ganyu can never say no to you

you want to play with her? she has the toys ready. you want her to read a bedtime story? which one, she'll even make one up if you want.

ganyu best sister. send tweet.

you have the biggest fear of the dark. child mind you doesn't understand why, but zhongli understands. you can remember the feeling of loneliness and emptiness of not having eyes to see. but of course human you has not connected those dots

you literally speed run to zhongli the moment you get scared

he's always glad to help you during those times, letting you sleep on his bed with him, telling you a story, humming a lullaby even.

you and qiqi are best friends

when you meet childe, you are like an abrasive cat to him

you literally hiss at him

he is completely scared of you

"they don't bite."

"YES THEY DO-"

childe was right on that.

anyways, eventually you bond with childe. he starts to see you as his own kin often buying you some presents whenever he can

overall there's a lot sweet hcs i could talk about all day if i wanted to, but alas, this is all i could think of

[ninyard]

i want to know ANYTHING and EVERYTHING about the andrew meets neil as stefan au

YES PLS OKAY

(holy shit this was supposed to be a HC ramble/snippets from the fic but uhhh….here’s a mini fic instead????? The actual fic I wrote isn’t even set back in California it’s set in PSU??? This was supposed to be short backstory!!!!!! Anyways lmk if u want the foxes stuff lol Enjoy <3)

Neil had natural looking ashy blonde with green eyes at the time, no older than 14 years old, going by the name Stefan Montgomery. Him and Mary ended up in a motel in Oakland for a couple weeks, regaining their footing after a close-call somewhere in Oregon.

Mary had hit Neil a gnarly heavy-handed blow after he forgot which name he was using in Eugene. Was it Sam? Or Dylan? Or had it been Joseph? A nice inch wide cut sat where his perfect court tattoo would sit, just on the turn of his cheekbone below the corner of his eye, bordered by a healing purple-brown bruise. Stefan was born on the border between California and oregon, stolen from a waiter at a pit stop diner, who didn’t let their coffee cups go empty as they mapped out where to go next.

He had met Andrew by chance; Stefan had been sitting on the bottom of the metal stairs that led up to the floor they were staying at. Mary was having a shower, dying her hair, becoming Georgia, perfect mother, a beautiful, average woman. He was people watching, looking at the cars pulling in and out of the car park, making up his own stories about who was who, what their names were and if they were worth stealing when they inevitably moved on. Andrew hung around the motel because just behind the building was an old, decrepit playground that’s should’ve been foreclosed years ago. Nobody ever used it, so it was a quiet place for him to be alone. He’d been walking through the parking lot after having just grabbed a chocolate bar or two from the vending machine when he stopped in front of Neil.

“What happened to your face?” It was quiet, barely a sentence, not big enough of a question to be intrusive or over-stepping.

“I’m a boxer.” That was the lie he’d been using for a few days. “I had a fight a couple days ago.”

You see, Stefan was a name Neil didn’t want to remember, like a bitter memory he forced himself to forget. It was just before Mary’s paranoia began to spiral even worse that it had already been. Stefan was keep your head down, we won’t be here long, give it a week, give it a week. Stefan was sleepless nights, watching his mother sat upright almost all night, eyes on the door, a knife under her pillow. Stefan was you don’t need friends, they’ll drag you down.

Mary didn’t know until the end that they’d been friends, Neil teaching Andrew the little boxing he knew, Andrew teaching Stefan how to keep yourself busy when you needed something to do. There was something about Andrew that made it impossible for him to stay away; he wasn’t a particularly happy kid, but the way he spoke, the way he cared about the fake life Neil had made up, the way he saw Stefan’s life as something he could never have.

“Have you ever thought about kissing a boy your age?” They’d been in Oakland for three weeks, and the two kids had made plans to meet every time Mary was occupied and Andrew was around. Neil didn’t really think to wonder why Andrew was always around. Didn’t he have a family who would miss him being gone all this time? Didn’t he have a home to go to?

“No,” Neil answered honestly. There wasn’t time for thoughts like that. Kisses weren’t signs of affection; kisses were lies, kisses were dangerous, kisses occupied a space in the mind that could be filled with run, run, run.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” Andrew had been swinging on the swing set, his feet dangling from the chipped plastic seat, the creaky chains holding him up. The question was loaded. Behind it was a conversation he’d had with his foster-mom, a slur from his foster-siblings, another hit from his foster-father.

“No,” that was an honest answer too. In his head his answer sounded like I’ve been told all kissing was wrong. But he couldn’t say that. Normal teenagers thought about kissing, and boyfriends, and girlfriends, and worried about how they looked in front of their crush. “Do you?”

“I don’t know.” His words were a sigh. Andrew trusted Stefan in this weird, out of character way. He’d never met anyone who’d been more interested to hear about his life than talk about their own. Of course, half of it was a half-truth, lies weaved into the story of Andrew.

Andrew was the first person who made Neil smile in a very long time. It was foreign hearing himself laugh, a sound reserved for fake interactions with strangers who couldn’t help but prying. Neil trusted him. His honest eyes often burning a hole in his face, on the days when Neil couldn’t bare eye contact. Andrew was a rock that Neil could feel himself becoming more and more attached to, more and more…attracted to? He didn’t know what that feeling felt like, but when he caught himself thinking about what a long hug from him would feel like, or a kiss on the forehead, the cheeks, the nose, the….

It was an impossible thought that Neil kept buried. Until Andrew had a bad day. Until Neil met him in the playground and he was sat underneath the slide, face buried in his knees that were pulled to his chest. Black hood pulled so far forward it almost covered the wet cheeks and puffy eyes he tried to hide. Stefan sat just across from him, the tips of their shoes not quite touching, but Neil rested his open palms on his shoes for Andrew to hold if he needed. He didn’t ask what was wrong.

“You’re my friend?” Andrew asked, half statement, half question. There was no hesitation in Neil’s “Of course.”

Andrew gently weeped, babbling on about wishing he could feel normal, or have a normal family. He wished he could understand himself. He wished he didn’t have to hurt so much. He’d looked up at Neil with his red eyes and wiped the tears from his face with the cuff of his sleeve. “Can I trust you?”

The statement hurt Neil far more than he thought it would. He hated that words spilled out of his mouth, his eyes stinging at the thought of saying what he really wanted to say. His mouth said “You can tell me anything,” when his brain said “I think Stefan dies in a week”.

Andrew told him about how he thought he was gay, and how embarrassed, alone, and ugly he felt to think that way. He didn’t know what normal feelings felt like. He didn’t know what it felt like to kiss someone he actually wanted to kiss. The statement hung in the air like a floating question. Did he…? Andrew had brushed away the thought almost as quickly as Neil did, but not without both their cheeks flushing pink at the unspoken idea. Neil watched as Andrew messed with the strings on his hoodie. Andrew cheered up after a little while, but when Neil realised how long he’d been gone for, he panicked. Instinctively, he pulled Andrew into a hug before running back to the motel room.

Stefan was bad memories, he’d always had to remind himself. Stefan was a mistake, a fuck-up, a vulnerability he would never, ever show again. Stefan was a slap across the face when he came back late. “Where the hell have you been?” Followed by a lie, then another, then another. Neil had only lied to his mother a handful of times in his life, but when it came to Andrew they seemed to slip out of his mouth at an alarming rate. The next time he seen Andrew, his swollen, burst lip barely hidden, Andrew had brushed his fingers across it and sarcastically asked if it was the product of another boxing match. Neil shushed him when he asked if his mother had done it. That was too personal. He was letting Andrew in too far and he was rotting Neil from the inside out. His hardened exterior fell away when he was around Andrew, and boy, was that dangerous. It shattered into a million pieces when they sat at at the top of the jungle-gym and Andrew asked so gently if he could kiss him.

No, no, no. The ghost of his mother’s hands in his hair told him to walk away. The phantom pain of a slap, and a hit, and a deafening lecture about his safety told him to stop letting Andrew in. He knew it was dangerous. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. So why did his lips automatically curl around the word yes and his heart start pumping a hundred miles a minute? They looked each other in the eyes for a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, until they were both so close they couldn’t see each other anymore. It was only a peck, a playground kiss, but Neil’s stomach flipped. Andrew pulled away as quickly as he’d leaned in. He didn’t look at Neil for the rest of the hour they spent together, but Neil didn’t look at him. That wasn’t to say they each didn’t have to constantly fight a love-struck smile off their faces every few minutes.

Their meetings started to get less frequent after that. Andrew stopped showing up, but instead left little notes carved into the yellow plastic of the slide. ‘R u grossed out? -A’ was the first one he left after their moment’s kiss. All Neil wrote back was ‘Never’. The next time they seen each other in person they sat hidden again in the top of the jungle gym. Neil knew Mary was planning on them moving on in the following days. He couldn’t tell Andrew. Even the thought of it broke his heart. Regardless of the kiss, or kisses, they shared, Andrew had become the closest friend Neil had ever had. Neil had to remind himself more than once that everything Andrew thought he knew about Stefan was a fabrication. They spoke about sexuality again, hands brushing off each other, sometimes intertwined, sometimes resting on the others leg or arm. Andrew asked if Neil was gay, and his face fell when Neil said no, I don’t think so. It took him a moment to add on “I don’t know what I am”. They left kisses on each other’s lips that lingered for hours, for days. The more Neil let Andrew in, the harder it was for him to keep lying to his mother. She began to get suspicious of where he was going when she left him alone.

Even still, Neil didn’t hear when Mary came into the playground the last time he seen Andrew. Andrew had his head rested on his shoulder, their hands intertwined and hidden between their outstretched legs. They’d been talking about something and nothing at the same time. Neil’s stomached bottomed out when he saw her brunette hair and tiny figure step around the rusted green fence. He let go of Andrew’s hand as quickly and as subtly as he could, but he knew it was no use. He didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. Andrew looked into Stefan’s green eyes as Neil stood up, searching, scared. Neil sent him a weak smile. This was the last time he would ever look into those hazel eyes, his light eyebrows furrowed as he watched Neil begin to walk away. Neil had nodded his way, and whispered a frightened ‘See you around’ before he walked over to join Mary. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards their motel room, already mentally packing their bags. Not before she beat him harder than she ever had before. Neil expected it. But every blow reminded him of Andrew until Andrew was no longer gentle touches and honesty and kisses. Andrew was a kick to the back of the knees as he walked through the motel room door. Andrew was a slap, and another, and another. He was a screaming, crying, angry mother, shoving whatever belongings they owned into their single duffel bag. Andrew was leaving their key at reception at midnight and starting their journey to another town. Andrew wasn’t worth it. Andrew was the swollen ankle he walked on for miles. Andrew was Mary pulling roughly at his blonde hair to dye it black in some random gas station that night. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. Neil left Stefan with Andrew in Oakland. He tried to leave the memories there too. Oh, how badly he tried.

The worst part was, Andrew didn’t know that was the last time he would ever see Stefan again. He waited every day for him to come back. Every day came and went and every day he never showed up. Neil didn’t know about that part, you see. Neil thought Andrew would forget about Stefan like a childhood crush, thrown away, moved on to the next cute boy who listened to him talk. They shared a thought, though, drilling the regret and shame into their minds. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

(Part 2)

[sukiglycerin]

13 minutes || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero (therefore aged up)!katsuki bakugou x fem manager!reader

* genre: pro-hero!au, smut, this is the longest warning section i’ve ever written, mainly pwp, fluff at the end :>

* words: 2,266 of all this fiLTH

* warnings: AGED UP KATSUKI, ugh tumblr deleted my super long tags so now i must redo them, this is very long & filthy, whew let's go, dom!katsuki, sub!reader, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, office sex, reader is bent over the desk ofc, master/sir kink, a little pet play (he calls reader pet/kitten), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, breast/nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, orgasm denial (how contradicting), cunnilingus (f receiving), cum eating (both ends), talks of safeword/colour system but no actual usage, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!!), creampie, reader is kinda masochistic, pussy slapping, crying sex (no angst here tho), hair-pulling (m receiving if it matters), implied subspace, aftercare !! the best part !!

* a/n: so tumblr messed up sO much while i tried to post this, so i hope you like this! ty @toishi for sticking with me and all of my ramblings while writing this! (and ofc @dylanxmin for her lovely support!!) this is a VERY spicy thing, and almost had actual plot before i cut it out. if you like this, i may do a fluffier pt 2!! enjoy!

being a pro-hero's manager has its perks. the pay's good, the coworkers are pleasant, and travelling is pretty fun. to you, the best part is that you get to see your boyfriend of three years every day.

you've been dating pro-hero ground zero secretly, and you happen to be his manager. honestly, the latter came first in chronological order, but that doesn't matter anyway.

you first encountered ground zero (or as he was called back then, katsuki bakugou) during your time in the business course at ua. he bumped into you quite ungracefully, cursed at you, pushed past you, then let a startled but apologetic kirishima to apologize. it was fate, in kirishima's words. 

such fate led you to manage ground zero five years ago, after slowly climbing your way up from managing smaller heroes to finally reaching the popular ones. bakugou had been the only popular hero with a manager opening; you learned why soon after being hired.

the spiky haired hero had a short fuse and a tendency to cuss. he was picky, indecent, and often reckless with his public image; the calmest you'd ever seen him was when he blew up villains and screaming "die."

however, things change - things change a lot. five years later, you're here: katsuki mumbling sweet things into the crook of your neck as his hands tease the waistband of your pencil skirt.

"katsuki, we can't- you have a meeting in fift- hng-!"

his lips find yours quickly, effectively quieting you down. you're sitting on katsuki's desk - a polished cherry wood thing that took too many weeks to find - as he towers above you, pinning you to your spot.

katsuki pauses, and pulls back, licking his lips. "sounds like a you problem."

"we really can't, this meeting is really important-" bakugou's fingers nimbly find their way under your skirt, deadly close to your panties. he really isn’t paying attention to you.

"and i'm the star of the show, the number one pro-hero-" if he hears you mutter 'that's midoriya,' he ignores you and continues, "-aren't i the most important one here?" his fingers rub your clothed clit, smirking at your audible gasp.

"k-katsuki, no-" you know he can feel the wet patch growing on your panties; from the way his determined eyes lock on yours, you know he won't be finished until you are too.

"how long do we have now, love?”

"thirteen minutes, but-"

"you're going to cum for me three times in the thirteen minutes we have."

it's not a question; it's a fact. you are going to cum three times in the next fifteen minutes.

“once on my fingers,” he puts a finger up, “once on my tongue,” another finger, “and once on my cock. the only thing you have to worry your pretty head about-“ he leans in close to your ear, voice dropping a couple octaves, “-is keeping quiet enough.”

his fingers push your panties to the side with ease and play teasingly with your wet folds. he circles your clit with his middle finger slowly, dragging out each languid movement with a smirk on his face. you flush at the lewd, wet noises he elicits from your pussy. you know that his fingers are coated in your arousal.

you look down in embarrassment, gripping the edge of the desk, and stare at the cotton material of your pencil skirt.

"slut." the word is spat from katsuki's mouth. his hand holds your chin; his touch barely ghosts your skin, but the command still exudes dominance. he tips his hand up, so you're looking into his intense eyes.

"look at me, slut." the word is emphasized by the plunging of three fingers in your wet core. you whine, unprepared by the sudden intrusion. your legs move uncomfortably against the fabric of your skirt, which restricts you from spreading open your legs wider. you want to clamp down on katsuki's hand, but you know that that won't end well.

"patience, kitten." either by intuition or his own frustration, he speaks up gruffly. "all in due time." his thumb starts to knead your aching bud as he thrusts in and out, knuckle deep in your pussy. glancing at the clock, he grows impatient, quickly attempting to unbutton your blouse before ripping off the rest entirely. you'd normally protest - you liked that blouse - but you find yourself falling short of words at the pressure on your pussy. katsuki goes at a more rigorous pace, thrusting fast and deep while his free hand snakes itself under your bra to play with your nipple. the added stimulation has you keening to his touch, suddenly aware of his every touch. he pulls your bra cup down, freeing your breast and bending down to to encapsulate the hardened bud in his mouth. his tongue circles your areola and flicks your nipple; meanwhile, his pace on your pussy hasn't relented. 

soon, you feel the telltale feelings of pleasure bubbling through your body.  you tense against him, gasping out his name and clawing at his back. your knees buckle as your climax washes over you, making your body go limp in his hand. bakugou lets go of your nipple with a popping noise, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his other hand pulls out, and he outstretches three cum-soaked fingers to you, an unspoken code for "suck." you open your mouth obediently, sucking your salty juices off his slim digits. 

"fuck," he cusses, eyes blown out wide in lust. "so fuckin' obedient for me, hm? such a fuckin' whore for your master."

you let go of the fingers in your mouth and nod. 

his non-wet fingers grip the bottom of your skirt. "off. now." 

"yes, master." you feel his eyes pierce you, watching you unzip your skirt and panties and let them pool around your legs. he holds you steady as you step out of the garments and toss them to the side. 

"sit up." he taps the desk lightly.

"it'll get w-w-" 

"did i stutter?"

"n-no, master."

he hums while you acquaint your bottom with the cold, hard wood of his desk.

"colour system, love?" his voice gets soft and he breaks the hard persona. his eyes are gentle, searching yours for any speck nervousness or hesitancy.

"green for 'i'm good, keep going,' yellow for 'slow down,' and red for 'stop.'"

"and if you can't speak?"

"three taps for red, two for yellow."

"what's your colour right now?"

"green, master."

his face hardens at the title. "always a good pet for me, aren't you?"

you nod. "yessir."

he spares another glance at the clock on the wall. "you're going to be a fucking good slut for master in the next 7 minutes, understand?"

"y-yessir."

"what was that, pet?"

"yessir."

"better be. spread." his fingers gesture to your legs.

he kneels before you, your drenched core spread out and on display for him at eye-level.

"so wet," he marvels, making your face heat up. like this, you're completely exposed to him; your breasts free from your bra, nipples hard against the cool air, and your pussy glistening under the light of his office.

he licks a long stripe up your folds, testing the waters. by now, the original intensity of your previous orgasm had worn off; despite this, when his tongue met your clit, you found yourself reaching for his hair, gripping it tightly. he groans into your pussy, poking his appendage through your folds and administrating kitten licks up and down your inner lips to slurp up whatever juices were left. the teasing doesn't last for long, however. he starts to suck harshly on your clit, making you buck into his face in overstimulation and surprise. you cry out at his unceasing ministrations, tugging on his hair and your toes curling. the overstimulation is too much; pain mixed with white hot pleasure blinds you. the lips closed against your clit go hard; you're not even sure how katsuki can breathe going at such a pace. the pain starts to blend into pure pleasure. you throw your arm over your mouth in attempt to stifle your noises, eyes shut tight. you feel tears line your eyes as you cum again, katsuki's tongue pressed flat against your pussy. the pleasure is five times more intense now; you cry out, sure anyone standing outside heard, and clutch katsuki's hair as you recover from your orgasm. your pussy convulses violently, and you pant in a similar manner.

"k-katsuki- master- i-" you breathe hard.

"one more for me, okay?" he rasps into your ear. "i know you can take it, kitten. so good for me..." his chin and lips shine with your essence.

you nod, spreading your sore legs further apart.

"colour?" he checks, hands starting to reach for his belt.

"green."

he nods and unbuckles, pulling his pants and boxers down to reveal his cock. katsuki leans in, hot breath fanning against you as he peppers kisses on your clavicle.

"you're gonna be a good cocksleeve for master, yeah? gonna be all fuckin' tight and wet for me?"

you whimper a shaky "yes," the head of his cock nudging your folds.

he eases his full length into you, the stretch always being something you always need to get used to. katsuki's not particularly girthy, but for what he lacks in girth he makes up in sheer length. he pushes in gently; it's clear on his face he wants nothing more than to ravage you, but he understands your needs.

"f-fuck," you gasps as he bottoms out. 

"ring ring ring," the tone of katsuki's phone rings through the room.

you lean over the desk, reading the caller id.

"it's horikoshi corp?" you say to katsuki.

"pick it up." there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes, but there's no time to dwell on it before you pick up the call.

"is this the office of ground zero?" a male voice asks through the line.

"yessir-" katsuki starts moving inside you, to which you bite your lip. "h-how can i help you?"

"this is regarding the meeting scheduled for today?"

"y-yes?" you gasp, flinging a hand over your mouth as bakugou starts thrusting into your core roughly.

"i'm terribly sorry to say this, but it appears that our boss has come down with food poisoning from lunch."

"don't- don't worry about it-" your knuckles are white gripping the edge of the desk, and you're slightly bent over it.

katsuki continues to hammer into you, speed increasing quickly.

"could we reschedule to friday, at 1:30pm?"

your mind skims through katsuki's friday schedule. "u-um... y-yes-! that can be arranged..." you're not sure if he can hear the wet slapping noises coming from your end of the line - but the thought of him knowing your dirty deeds with katsuki made you even wetter.

"alright, thank you!" the man sounds relieved. "goodbye."

"bye!" you half slam the phone down on the receiver, chest heaving.

"it's your lucky day, huh, kitten?" katsuki purrs smoothly. 

you nod, pressing yourself onto his desk so you're bent over it for him.

"such a fucking slut," you can hear the pride in his voice. "you like that, yeah? i can feel you clenching all around me. you're my fuckin' cockslut, right?"

your head bobs rapidly up and down. "yes, master- i'm-" you feel the familiar heat start to bubble in the pit of your stomach.

"don't you dare fucking cum yet," he growls in your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust.

he presses you even harder into the desk, your breasts pushed up against the cold wood. 

"k-katsuki...!”

"my little pain slut, isn't that right?" 

"y-yes-! f-fuck, master-" 

he slaps your clit, making a loud, wet sound resound through the room.

it almost sends you over the edge. almost.

"don't- cum-" katsuki grunts in between thrusts.

you're so close it almost hurts. the pleasure overwhelms you; you shut your eyes tight to distract yourself, but you can only hear the sound of katsuki's heavy breaths and his cock slamming into you.

"katsuki- master- please, i can't-" tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. the pleasure is just too much, beating into you incessantly.

"you can, and you will," he orders, voice firm.

"k-ka- ka-" you blubber, tears dropping from your cheeks. you know you won't be able to hold it much longer; your pussy aches in need of release. "pl- pl, ka-"

"cum." it was the only word you needed to find yourself toppling off the edge, euphoria rippling over you violently.  tears stream down your cheeks, cum gushing from your heat. you're as limp as a doll in katsuki's arms, slumped against his desk. your pussy throbs, contracting violently - somewhere amidst your orgasm, katsuki had finished as well. your cheeks are wet, blouse thrown somewhere on the ground. your breathing is shaky as katsuki picks you up, stroking your hair delicately.

"hey, honey," he kisses your forehead softly.

you mumble incoherently, eyes drooping shut.

"you did so well for me... i didn't hurt you, did i?"

"no, 'suki.... 's good.... i liked it a lot..." you nuzzle into him, his body warmth comforting. katsuki smells of vanilla and caramel, a sweet combination that feels undeniably like home. 

you don't remember many of the next events well; everything blurs into a haze. you feel him gently thumbing your tears away, slipping your skirt and panties on and buttoning up one of his extra dress shirts on you.

the last thing you hear is a gentle "i love you," and before you know it, you're drifting asleep.

[demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol]

Bedtime Reassurances

[image credit to @aloneandblueascanbe​, pls let me know if you want it removed!]

pairing: frankie morales x gn!reader

words: 1.8k

content: one innuendo / reference to sex so 18+ only please, job related anxiety, mentions of a pandemic, one bad word, i switch from present and past tense sorry, another comfort fic but at this point is anyone surprised, soft gentle touches, verbal affirmations, frankie just being the best most encouraging bf in the world

a/n: okay so this is very similar to the other frankie fic i wrote, but i actually wrote this one first and this one has some lines that im really proud of, so i figured i’d share this one anyways!! i hope y’all enjoy this, and thank you so SO much to everyone who read my first frankie fic, seriously i cannot believe how much interest it got and i am constantly blown away by how incredible y’all are 💜💜💜 p.s. my taglists are a mess rn so don’t feel obligated to interact, and pls speak up if you want to be added or removed!

Frankie hums under his breath a little as he walks up the stairs. The two of you had just finished watching a new movie and his spirits were pretty high (although part of that might have been because of your reactions to the movie- your laughter, your smiles, your head bobbing to the catchy music). He flicked off the hallway light before entering you room, at which he promptly paused at seeing you perched on the bed wiping your eyes.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and you look over at him before sitting up and blinking furiously. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He quickly takes a few steps over to you, but his hands hover by your sides to gauge your reaction to his sudden nearness before moving forward to slide them around your back. The last thing he wanted to do was move too fast and cause you to flinch.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, I was just-,” you cut yourself off to take a stuttery inhale and a shaky exhale. “Just thinking, it’s not even related to anything.” Frankie tilted his head at you sympathetically as his mouth twisted into a small smile.

“If it has you this upset, I know it’s not nothing,” he paused, giving you a moment to process his words. “[y/n]” he whispered, and at hearing your name you look up to meet his eyes. “It’s me,” he said, with nothing but love and concern in his eyes. “You can talk to me. Please.” You blinked at him a couple times, and took a deep breath.

“I, um,” you stuttered and turned your eyes down, and you felt Frankie’s hand rub up and down your back. After a few deep breaths, you spoke. “I just started thinking about work again, and job hunting has been so stressful. And it all seems so scary. And I know it’s not, and I know I’m overthinking it, but I’m just so tired of starting over. And I’m just tired of not feeling good enough. And I’m sure these feelings are way too complicated over just a new job, but I’m just tired of constantly doing different things, and I know this is just the adjustment period making me feel this way, but I just want to be good at something, just one thing, and just do that one thing long enough to actually feel good about how I do that thing,” you paused to take a few deep breaths and at some point during your rambling you must have grabbed onto Frankie because both of your hands were gripping the front of his shirt. You loosened your grip a little and in response he held you a little tighter. As you met Frankie’s eyes for the first time, you couldn’t help but let out the small whimper at the pure understanding and love from him. It’s still so hard to believe that someone could look at you like that even in such a state. He brought one of his hands up to cup your cheek, and the other one wrapped around your waist.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and there was no way to not believe him when he was looking at you like that. “Just let it all out.”

“I’m afraid, but I’m also tired of being afraid, and I’m tired of not being good enough, and I’m just tired,” you laughed a little, even as tears filled your eyes. “I just want to be good enough.” Frankie’s heart cracks at your words, and as your eyes fill with tears, he feels his eyes start to sting too.

“Mi corazón. I promise you, every single person around you can see just how hard you’re trying. I know sometimes it’s hard for you to see, but every day I am in awe of just how much you do.” He sees your face scrunch up in the telltale way when you try to argue with him, so he tilts down to give you a soft kiss, and when he pulls away he can tell that put you in enough of a daze for him to keep going without you interrupting. “Despite what you struggle with, you get up and you help others, and you work on bettering yourself as a person, and you get stronger and kinder and more loving every single day. And every day I am beyond thankful that you let me into your life, that I get to be with you in the big moments and in the small moments, that I get to experience life through your eyes, because you see the world in such a way that it makes me feel so so young.” That gets a small smile from you, and now Frankie feels like he’s on a roll. “You’re kind to me and you’re kind to strangers and you’re even learning to be kind to yourself. You’re taking on the challenge of becoming a better person while also going after a new job while also doing it during a freaking pandemic.” Your breath hitches at that and while he doesn’t want to upset you, he never wants to upset you, he needs you to know this. “You think you’re behind everyone but you are leagues ahead in areas that some people aren’t gonna realize are important until years from now. And you’re doing that in a world where that isn’t the normal. And baby I am so proud of you,” he chokes up a little at that, and he sees worry creep up into your eyes as your hands come up to cup his cheeks, and ever so gently stroke the spot just below his eyes, already ready to wipe away any tears that might stray. “You are a wonderful person, a wonderful friend, and an even more wonderful lover. And I want you to go to bed, and wake up, and spend every minute of every day knowing that I love you so much and that there is so much good in you, and that you are stronger than any of your fears or anxieties or reservations, and that if you ever feel stuck I will always-,” he bumps his forehead against yours and he looks at you so head on that in that moment you feel he is looking straight into you, that he really does see everything he says he does, “-always, be right there by your side helping you out of the situation because I. Love. You.”

The first thing you noticed were his hands on your face, mostly because the pressure had increased, not in an uncomfortable way, just in a more noticeable way. And then you noticed the way his chest was moving, like saying everything he did genuinely winded him. And then you noticed his eyes, which if your being honest was probably the first thing you noticed because there’s no way not to: their deep, rich color with more depth than any other eyes you’ve ever seen, the almost imperceptible sparkle to them, because somehow this man’s eyes just sparkle, and the way that his eyes are the definition of love and compassion and trust, because there is no other way to describe them.

“Oh my gosh,” you whisper, because how on earth do you respond to that? As you wrap your arms around the back of his neck again and drag him down to kiss him, he pulls you closer as your lips touch and you press further into him because the need to have him so impossibly close is overwhelming. He breaks away for only a second before leaning back in, and he tilts you back to deepen the kiss. Your legs come up to wrap around his and he lowers you slowly all the way down onto the bed. When you break away you keep your hands firmly locked around the back of his head, keeping his forehead pressed to yours as you both catch your breath. “I love you so much,” you finally say, keeping your eyes locked on his. “I love you so dang much and sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here, with me, in our house, with me.”

“You better believe it baby, cuz there’s no getting rid of me,” his mouth cracking into a lazy smile as he nudges his strong nose against yours.

“Never,” you say, much more seriously than his joking tone warrants, but you need him to know, especially after everything he said. “I never want to get rid of you. I need you. I love you.” His eyes soften and while his teasing tone leaves, his smile never does.

“You’ll make it through this sweetheart, I promise. I’m here every step of the way.”

You beam at him, “Thank you Frankie. For everything. Everything.” Your eyes start to droop and he places a quick kiss on your nose before backing away to pull down the covers. You crawl up to the pillows, barely even acknowledging your own side in favor of his. He chuckles and crosses over to the other side, and when he’s under he cuddles you close before pulling up the blanket and securing it around you. “Tomorrow’s a new day, and somebody needs their beauty sleep to tackle their to do list.” You hum contentedly, wrapping your arms around him and slotting your head under his chin. His arms wrap around yours as he presses a kiss to your forehead and noses your hair.

“Well, you are definitely on my to do list because holy shit someone deserves some good sex for what you said,” you half mumble under your breath, and as Frankie breaks into a laugh he tries not to jostle you too much, but you caught him off guard and now he’s pretty much full on laughing, in the way that makes your heart clench a little because you love him and his beautiful laugh so dang much, the laugh that gives you so much pride because you’re the one that made it happen. When he settles down he pulls away slightly to look at you, and you are positively beaming at him, clearly proud of that joke you were able to come up with half asleep.

“Well there’s my [y/n],” he says in that deep raspy voice that only makes you smile more. He leans in to give your forehead a slow kiss.

“Thanks for finding me,” you whisper as you look up at him.

“Ehh, you’ve trusted me with most of your hiding spots, so I’ve gotten pretty good.” You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your hand on the side of his face to get a good look at him.

“But seriously Frankie, thank you. You always know exactly what to say, and I am so unbelievably grateful for you in so many ways.” His face goes as soft as he turns to give your palm a soft kiss, and you lean in one more time to kiss him properly before resuming your position. He gives you a gentle squeeze and it isn’t long until you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of your love.

tag list: @keeper0fthestars​, @scribbledghost​, @icanbringyouincold​, @bestintheparsec-reads​, @ezrasarm​, @andriecastana​, @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo​, @murdermewithbooks​, @remmysrecs​, @lv7867​

[chuckbass-love]

Intrusion | Andy Barber

A/N : I’m so excited to be entering my first ever writing challenge on this blog. This is probably the first of many entries and i hope everyone enjoys. This is for the Shameless Hoes for Chris challenge. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, it’ll help me improve. 

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Thank you so much for doing this challenge @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ enjoy...

Pairing : Andy Barber x Reader

Word count : 2,462

Summary : You accidentally walk in on Andy naked...

Warnings : explicit language, sexual content and smut. 18+ 

I used scenario prompt 13. ‘Accidentally seeing the other naked’

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to whoever made this gif, if anyone knows who made it pls let me know so I can give credit. I genuinely just search gifs up on google and I never manage to find out where the original gif is from bc of so many people re posting gifs. I never wanna give credit to the wrong person! So if this gif is yours or if it’s someone you know then let me know and I’ll credit them. Thank you💗

It’s Friday afternoon and you’re stuck at work in the last meeting of the day before you get to go home and relax for the weekend. 

You’ve got plans to hang out with your neighbour Andy tonight. The two of you got rather close once him and Laurie split, he got quite lonely in that house which was understandable. 

You recall the time you saw him get takeout for the third time that week and you couldn’t stand the sight of it. So you made some lasagne and took it over to him in an oven dish. 

He was beyond grateful for the kind gesture and even invited you in to eat with him to which you gladly accepted.

Ever since the two of you have developed quite the friendship. He wasn’t ready for anything romantic so despite your little crush on him, you decided it was never going to happen. You had gotten used to it being strictly platonic. 

You always had plans with him every Friday night and tonight was no exception. Tonight is movie night at his place.

“Right okay, that’ll be all then guys” your boss calls out, breaking you from your daze. You have to admit, you didn’t pay attention during that meeting. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too important though.

You gather your stuff and head back to your office to collect your bag before heading out to your car. Once you reach it you check your phone to find a text from Andy.

‘Hey, just checking we’re still on for tonight. I’m gonna jump in the shower, back door is unlocked so let yourself in’

You smile down at your phone before starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. Once you reach your road and pull onto the drive next to your house, you contemplate showering first before going over but decide against it. Instead you walk across the road to Andy’s, going straight to his backdoor. 

You notice some popcorn on the kitchen counter, he must’ve picked that up on his way home. You start to wonder around whilst you wait but he seems to be taking forever. 

Surely he wasn’t still showering, he must have been in there for 30 minutes now. You wonder over to the staircase and start climbing, noticing that the shower isn’t on and you don’t hear any noise coming from the second floor.

“Andy, are you in he- OH SHIT” you curse as you walk into his room to find him stood there butt naked. You quickly rush out of the room and run downstairs. You’re utterly mortified. You can’t imagine he’s feeling any different.

Well, now you’ve seen your friend naked. Guess you can tick that one off the old list of things to do. You put the popcorn bag into the microwave and stand there in shock, attempting to process the sight that stood before you no less than a minute ago.

As much as you hate to admit it, the crush you had on him was still very much present now. Walking in on him naked has not helped in the slightest. You can’t get over his body, hell even his dick is huge. Just like you always imagined it to be. 

You try to wash away the impure thoughts, luckily for you, you’re snapped out of them by his voice.

“So... about that” 

“That was my fault, i’m sorry. I just wondered where you were. I shouldn’t have snooped” you ramble.

He lets out a deep sigh, walking over to you. You get the popcorn out and pour it into a bowl before walking away from him and into the living room. You plop yourself down onto the couch, seconds later he joins. 

“What movie have you picked?” you ask, in hopes that he’ll drop the awkward subject. Thankfully he does. 

“I chose American Psycho” one of your all-time favourites. You grin at his suggestion as he sets it up on the tv.

“I love this movie” you kick your feet up onto the couch, your skirt riding up your thighs slightly but not enough to give anything away.

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

The credits roll up and you yawn and stretch, moving the bowl to the coffee table in front. It’s been a long week at work and tired is an understatement, you are well and truly shattered.

You sit upright and turn to Andy who is looking back at you, his lips curling into a smile.

“What?” you giggle nervously, unsure of what he’s smiling at.

“You just look really good” you both freeze, did he really just say that? You sit there for a second, not sure of how to respond to him but soon enough the sarcasm comes.

“Well, don’t i always?” you flick your hair in a sassy motion, he chuckles “I can’t deny that” is this what you think it is? is he hitting on you?

“Anyways, i bet-”

“Did you like what you saw?” you know exactly what he means but you decide to play dumb.

“I’m sorry what?”

He shuffles closer to you on the couch, closing the space. 

“You know what i mean, did you like my body earlier, when you walked in on me?” you try to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth but it’s no use, your cheesy grin comes out to play and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I’ll take that as a yes then” he traces his finger over your bare arms until he reaches your shoulder. His mouth soon replaces his finger as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then moving the kiss to your neck, then jawline and then finally he reaches your mouth.

Your faces are inches apart and you can feel his breath hitting you, you can’t help yourself anymore. You tried but failed. You crash your lips to his passionately. All your feelings for him come out in the kiss, you can just tell he feels it.

His kiss is rough and nasty but also intimate and loving all at once. You feel like you see fireworks going off in your mind, like all of time is standing still for the two of you. 

You get the impression that he’s wanted this for a long time, just like you.

You break away and your chests are heaving.

“That was one hell of a kiss” you pant, he releases a small laugh, nodding his head in agreement to your statement.

“I’ll admit, i’ve wanted to do that since the moment i first met you” you just give a look as if to say ‘i know’

You can’t believe your ears though, you felt it but to hear him say it out loud is something else entirely. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long” you look everywhere but his eyes, you feel nervous now, really, really nervous.

“I know” you cover your face with your hands, had you made it that obvious?

“You actually admitted it to me when we were drinking once. I ignored it because i wasn’t in any position to act upon it despite feeling the same. But i’m more than ready to act upon it now” you make direct eye contact with him and within seconds, he pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him.

He grabs a hold of your hair, pulling your head back as his mouth attacks your sweet spot. You feel him start to bite down, almost as though he intends to mark his territory. Like you belong to him now.

You let out a breathy moan, biting down on your lip at the intense feeling, he’s not holding back. You were sure to wake up with more than just a couple of hickeys in the morning but none of that matters right now. You want to live freely in this moment.

“Let’s take this elsewhere” he stands up and your legs wrap around his torso.

He makes sure the doors are locked before taking you to his room and throwing you down on the bed like you don’t weigh a thing.

He removes his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. You can see the huge situation forming and you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight and thought of him eventually being inside of you.

“Now, let’s remove this shall we?” he tugs at your blouse, you untuck it from your skirt and he rips it off your skin. That’s one blouse you won’t be wearing again. 

“I’ll buy you a new one” he mutters whilst sliding your skirt down to reveal your red laced panties.

A grunt leaves his mouth as he removes them too, exposing how soaked you are for him. You spy his dick getting harder and harder.

“All this for me baby?” you hum in response, desperate for him to touch you.

“Please Andy” you whimper underneath him.

“Please what?” you prop yourself up onto your elbows “touch me” you beg, he smirks down at you.

He starts peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, teasing you until he’s inches away from your sex. You try to buck your hips up but he pushes you down.

“Patience baby girl” he warns and you relax onto the bed, awaiting his touch.

It feels like you’ve been waiting forever but just when you go to speak up his mouth starts sucking on your clit and he slides two fingers inside of you, without a warning.

“Ah yes, just like that” your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure he’s giving you consumes you entirely. He’s skilled, you gotta give it to him.

“Please fuck me daddy” did you really just say that? You feel the touching come to a halt and he crawls his way back up so he’s face to face with you.

“Daddy huh?” you open your eyes to find a cocky expression plastered across his face.

“I’m sorry-”

“You want daddy’s cock huh? Well then you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart” you gulp, his mere presence turns you on and is words only make matters worse. You feel shivers run down your spine. 

“Please daddy, please fuck me” you put on your seductive voice, spreading your legs wider for him and reaching your hand down to palm him through his boxers. You then use your other hand to rub at your clit.

“I need it, so badly” your eyes go wide, your teeth tug at your bottom lip. You know for certain that he’ll give in now. Sure enough... he does. 

He sighs as he watches you beg for him, he can’t hold it any longer. He gets off the bed to rid himself of his boxers. His face returns to it’s position between your legs and his tongue licks up your folds, stealing one last taste of you. 

“You taste so sweet” you giggle at him, pulling him up the bed.

You pump his hard cock a couple of times before urging him to bring it closer to your entrance. He tuts at your desperate state, taking your hands, lifting them above you and pressing them down into the mattress.

“No touching”

You feel his tip pushing at your tight hole and all of a sudden he rams himself into you, shifting you up the bed.

“Oh fuck” you curse as he stretches you out but the pain soon gets replaced by mind blowing pleasure. Your back arches and you try to remove your hands from his grip but you fail.

“Is this what you’ve wanted all this time?” thrust “to be fucked like this, fucked like the dirty girl you are” thrust “bet you walked in on me on purpose, wanted to see me all exposed” thrust. You wrap your legs around him, signalling for him to go deeper. Your wish is his command.

He releases your hands and you hold onto his biceps. He grips your legs, forcing them all the way back to your head.

“Andy, fuck” this new angle is allowing him better access, he’s hitting your cervix repeatedly. You know you won’t be able to last long if this goes on. You clench down onto his length, earning a grunt from him.

“Such a tight fucking cunt. That’s it, cum on this cock princess” his words push you closer and closer to your peak. You always guessed he was a talker in the bedroom and hearing it now is a million times better than all those nights you imagined it whilst touching yourself.

“Keep going, i’m gonna cum daddy” you whine, digging your nails into his biceps, the sharp pain causes him to jolt slightly, he only uses the pain to fuck into you harder. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your combined moans is like heaven to your ears. All your fantasies about this moment were nothing like this, this was better in every way.

With every thrust, moan and hit to your cervix your toes start to curl a little more. You feel it, it’s coming.

“FUCK” you release all around him, clenching down harder than ever before. Your back arches, your now chest to chest. He sits up, leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re now straddling him, you clench down again, milking him for all that he’s got.

He twitches inside of you and you feel his hot seed fill you up. You throw your head back and he wraps his arms around your body, squeezing you tight.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, allowing you both time to ride out your intense highs. He eventually lifts you off of him and you both fall down onto the bed. 

“Well that was quite something” you both burst out into laughter.

He stands up, walking over to the bathroom and whilst his back is turned you can’t help but check out his ass. He was definitely a sex god, sculpted to perfection.

“Here, let me clean you up” he bends down to wipe up the mess the pair of you made before cleaning himself up too.

You can’t believe that just happened. It happened so quickly, you’re still in shock.

He joins you in bed, pulling you onto his chest and his arm drapes around your shoulder. He starts tracing his finger along your back, making you shiver.

“You up for staying the night because i’d quite like to do that again in the morning” a smile forms on both of your faces as you lean your chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. 

“I’d love to”

You stay like that for a a while before eventually drifting into a deep slumber. It finally happened. You feel so happy.

[person-line]

it’s whatever #3

pairing: eren x reader

unrequited feelings, best friend! reader

#2 | epilogue

2 Years time skip

“YAHOOO Y/N!”

“Ms Hange!”

“Ah I told you not to call me that! Hange would be good enough, I know boss Levi was a little bit strict today but he will losen up! It’s been a while since we had new recruits since he’s very specific about the people we have working here but hes an angel don’t worry he just.. lacks the ability to show it-“

“Oi.”

His harsh voice sent shivers down your spine even though you weren’t the one talking, after being nagged at by him the whole day I wouldn’t blame you. Who knew a guy could be so specific about tea as well? You were just doing a favour.

“Ah Levi we were just talking about you, anyways y/n do you want to come drinking with me, Erwin & Levi, you know celebrate your first day”

“Who said I was going”

“Erwin did, so what do you say y/n you in?“

You would feel bad if you didn’t come along, after all, she lead you through everything even tho she had her own work too. After all, you deserved to drink too right? You haven’t drank ever since you went out drinking with Jean after Eren left. You were fine now tho, you got over him just fine. Ever since then you still haven’t found anyone tho, but you were content with that.

“Yeah sure!”

“Oi brat you still have work tomorrow don’t go overboard, I’m not your boss outside work so I’m not gonna watch over you”

“Levi stop acting like a dad you can’t even take care of yourself and you’re always caring about other people” Erwin says showing up behind Levi.

“OKAYYY Let’s go!!”

Hange sends you the address and you drive up to the bar. It wasn’t that far from your work place, in fact you probably could have walked.

The 4 of you drink while Hange and Erwin shares embarassing (but very cute) stories of Levi. He just glares at them while drinking. What is that his 5th shot already? He barely even changed in state, he just stopped being so uptight but what is this guy a god? Also did I mention that your alcohol tolerance wasn’t the best? Especially since you haven’t drank in a while. Also knowing how COMPETITIVE you are you tried to keep up with the rest of them knowing they were so much older than you and DEFINETELY had higher tolerance. Anyways, you didn’t take too much, at least thats what you thought.

You just sat there really quiet and just stared at everyone. Could’ve sworn you almost passed out. You weren’t really a loud drunk compared to many people you knew.

“Y/n is that you?”

Startled by the random tap when you almost passed out for the nth time this night.

“mm... Eren? Ah is this one of those dreams again... am I lucid dreaming actually?”

“You dream about me?”

“I can’t control what I dream about idiot”

He didn’t have to ask if you were drunk. He knew you were. He saw the way you almost passed out multiple times from the time he entered and walked to you. Was that even possible? It’s not like he hadn’t drank with you before.

“WHO ARE YOU DON’T HURT Y/N IF NOT YOU’LL KNOW WHAT THESE HANDS CAN DO”

“Hangeee I know him”

“Oh. Are you sure you’re not just drunk? Ah i’ll just keep an eye on you.”

“Oi why are there 2 brats now.”

“I think Levi and I are gonna head home now, though he does look fine, he had too much to drink so I’m still concerned.”

“mmm... Erwin and boss Levi lives together?”

“Yea they do” Hange replies smilling.

“Ok think i’m gonna take a nap here”

Eren chuckles and pats your head.

“Ah how It’s been two years, you’re still the same”

Hange takes a moment to connect the dots and suddenly jumps from their seat.

“Wait... are you y/n’s ex boyfriend??”

“Ah no nothing like that, we just used to be close friends back in college.”

“Ohh!! Okay then you should know where she lives! Can you give me her address? I’ll drive her home”

“Actually I can drive her home she lives a few blocks down my house.”

Hange stares at Eren in distrust. Eren realises he might seem really sketchy right now and digs out his phone from his bag pocket.

“I’ll show you photos of us when we were younger hold on”

Eren opens up his phone and goes through his photos showing them photos from middle school all the way to college. Ah nostalgia. Halfway through showing them Hange just stared at Eren and saw the affection in his eyes. Maybe they could trust him?

“Alright, bye y/n!!”

“Bye Hange thank you for today”

Hange waves back at her and smiles, leaving the pair.

“Y/n let’s go back, just like the old days right”

“Can drive myself”

“No you can’t stop being stubborn”

“Yes I can watch me”

Eren shakes his head and carries you throwing you over his shoulder.

He straps you to the seat (FOR SAFETY, WITH A SAFETY BELT DON’T BE SICK) and drives you back. He parks the car and the both of you just sat there. Not saying a word. Honestly I don’t know why you didn’t leave but I’m sure you had your fair share of things to say too.

“Can we talk?” Both of you said at the same time. Remind you of something?

“Ah I think I’ll say it first remembering what happend the previous time.” You said, you were a little sober now but you still had a loud mouth when spoken to.

“I kinda miss hanging out with you? I mean like I don’t still have feelings for you so I don’t know i hope it’s okay if we hung out again. Kinda miss a loser dorky competitive best friend.”

Eren throws his head back laughing pushing his hair back. He didn’t give a rebuttal knowing if he did the fight could go on forever.

“I was about to say the same thing. But I kinda have something to add on? It’s okay if you say no really. It’s just a thought”

You looked up to see his face under the moonlight. He was still beautiful, he didn’t age one bit besides facial hair and longer hair. You could still see the kid inside him. It felt like home again, you haven’t felt that in a long time.

“So me and Mikasa didn’t really work out, I mean it wasn’t so personal for either of us since the attraction was there but it was more out of respect than anything. And I guess ever since that night you left, well more like I asked you to leave, I really did miss hanging out with you. I don’t really know myself if whatever I felt about you back then was anything romantic, but ever since then I still felt like I lost someone really important. It didn’t feel like when i lost my parents, it was just different? I was so scared to loose you then and even now. What if that was the last time we were going to talk? Would we have known? Would things have been different? All I’m trying to say is you’re really important and I’d really want to go back to how we were and maybe try something? We don’t have to force it, but I wouldn’t want to go through that again. I want to spend the rest of my life with you if I could. I don’t think I’ve felt this about anyone. I know this is selfish but it wouldn’t hurt to try? I completely understand if you wouldn’t want to cross that line-“

You started tearing up and smilling. You haven’t heard him ramble in so long. You missed this feeling.

“Eren I really-really missed you too, more than I would’ve thought, I think I’d want to try but I can’t promise anything. I wouldn’t want to loose you too”

Eren hugs you and ruffles your hair. The hug lasted longer than you would have thought but it felt like mere seconds to the both of you. You pulled back even though it was pretty hard with his VERY LARGE arms around your body. You both look up to each other giggling with a few tears down both of your faces. Both of you were crucial to both of your lives, you both spent your teenage years together, of course this was emotional.

author’s note

hey! So this will be the last of this series but there will be an epilogue so pls stay tuned! I hope you enjoyed this, I’m so happy to see that my first fanfic at least got noticed by a few of you.

masterlist.

[blushingreid]

Eye Love You

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: shout out to @pumpkin-goob for this request💛 I absolutely love it bc I’m blind af, so it’s a vibe. S2 Spence always has a special place in my heart. Pls enjoy & slide me feedback <3

Note: I use the technical term for the equipment: phoropter (in case you’re privileged with 20/20 vision or you’re like me & just called it the eye machine your whole life).

“You know, three out of every four adults require glasses or contacts. Of the 75 percent of adults that need vision correction, 64 percent of them wear eyeglasses, while 11 percent wear contac-,” Spencer’s ramble cut short as he clumsily bumped into a display entering the eye doctors.

“Easy there Pretty Boy. Can’t have you wrecking your good looks,” Morgan teased, steering him towards the receptionist’s desk.

“Hi, what brings you in today?” the man at the desk asked, not even bothering to look up.

“Um I have an appointment for new glasses for Spencer Reid.”

The receptionist gave Spencer a nod before tapping away on the computer. After a couple minutes of awkward silence, he finally looked up at them. “So from our records it appears that you need to have your eyes examined for any changes in your prescription before we can get you new glasses. Just have a seat in the waiting room and the optometrist should be out soon.”

Spencer sighed as he and Morgan headed towards the waiting room. He just wanted to be able to see clearly and it wasn’t even his fault.

His glasses had gotten knocked off his face and crushed during one of the BAU’s recent cases. Spencer had been chasing after an unsub when out of nowhere, the unsub’s partner struck Spencer. Next thing he knew, he was basically blind.

Hotch had given Spencer the next couple days off until he got new glasses, since he wasn’t much help blindly stumbling around the bullpen. Morgan had volunteered to be Spencer’s “guide dog” until he regained his vision.

“Spencer Reid?” The optometrist called out.

Spencer looked up at the blurry figure and shyly waved his hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor y/n y/l/n and I’ll be doing your examination. If you could follow me and we’ll get you checked out.”

“She’s very cute,” Morgan whispered in Spencer’s ear.

“Since all I see is her silhouette, I’ll take your word for it,” Spencer whispered back before getting up and following her. Morgan chuckled as he watched Spencer try his best not to bump into anything.

Once he made it safely into the examination room and onto the chair, Spencer turned towards y/n. He involuntarily squinted his eyes, hoping it would temporarily clear his vision long enough so he could assess her. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much.

“I see you’re here for new glasses. Any particular reason why?” Y/n asked as she cleaned and set up the phoropter.

Spencer felt embarrassed all over again, remembering why he needed new glasses. “Yeah uh they got ruined in a work incident,” he nervously laughed off.

“Well your job must be very interesting and hectic,” y/n replied before pushing the phoropter towards Spencer. “Please place your chin up on this bar, and lean forward until your forehead rests on the cushion. I’ve added your latest prescription, so we can see if there are any changes.”

Spencer placed his chin onto the cool surface, leaning forward so his forehead touched the cushion letting him see into the phoropter. He heard a small click before the darkness he saw in the machine was filled with light, and a clear view of the television on the room’s wall with rows of letters in various sizes displayed.

“Great! Can you see clearly now?” Y/n asked, wheeling her chair directly in front of Spencer and the phoropter.

Oh he could definitely see clearly and he certainly liked what he saw, given the heat that immediately coursed through his body once y/n came into his line of sight. It was most certainly love at first eyesight. Y/n was breathtakingly beautiful. Spencer had never seen anyone more perfect than her. He mentally appreciated the dimly lit examination room.

“Yes, uh things are much clearer now,” Spencer quickly said, realizing he had completely zoned out. Spencer was relieved and filled with glee that he would be able to admire y/n without her realizing it, through the phoropter.

“Perfect! I’m sure you know the drill with this thing, but I’ll explain it anyways. So I’m gonna block out your left eye first and each round, I’ll switch between two different lenses and each time you’ll tell me which one is clearer. Then, we’ll repeat the process with your other eye after,” y/n explained before flipping and turning the many parts of the machine to block out Spencer’s left eye.

A tiny hint of sadness hit Spencer when he realized he’d only get to admire her one eye at a time.

“Okay one or two?” Y/n asked as she flipped between the two lense options.

Spencer immediately saw that option two was clearer, but he didn’t want his time with y/n to be over too soon. “Um could you do that again, a couple more times?”

“Yes, no worries. Sometimes these are very close, so just let me know if you need more time or repeats.”

And so he did. What should’ve been a quick 10 minute examination became a 40 minute one. Not that y/n minded, she found Spencer very attractive and his presence quite comforting. Normally, she would’ve told a patient that they could say if they thought both were similar, and they’d immediately move on. However, she didn’t mind spending more time with Spencer. She just assumed he was an indecisive person. After the exam, she discovered that his prescription barely changed from his last one.

“We’re putting a rush on your glasses, since they were your only pair and you still want the same frames. You’ll receive a call letting you know in the next couple days when they’re ready,” y/n said as she lead Spencer out of the room back to the main lobby.

“Pretty boy! What took you so long? You said this would only take at most twenty minutes. I’m starving,” Morgan whined before extending his hand to y/n. “Hi there, I’m Derek Morgan, Spencer’s coworker, best friend, and current guide for his blind ass.”

“It was a pleasure to meet both of you, and good luck with your new glasses,” y/n said after shaking Morgan’s hand and giving them, mostly directed at Spencer, a kind smile.

As she turned to walk away, Morgan nudged Spencer. “Um hello, are you really going to let her get away without asking her out? There’s a chance you might not cross paths for a long time.”

“I can’t. I’m not good at that type of stuff like you are,” Spencer sighed, turning to look at y/n one last time. He wanted to remember every detail about her before he leaves.

“How about you just be yourself and ask her out,” Morgan advised. He was not going to let Spencer walk away from this woman. “Hey Doctor y/n!” Morgan yelled, before shoving Spencer towards her. “Spencer here has a question about his uh retinas that he forgot to ask.”

Y/n turned towards her name being called and was met with Spencer stumbling into her arms. As she helped steady him, she felt a blush rise to her face at the sudden close proximity they were in.

“Uh sorry about that,” Spencer apologizes as he steps back. “Ignore what he said. I uh actually came over because um I think you’re very b-beautiful and you i-intrigue me. A-Anyways, I was wondering if you would maybe um like t-to go out to dinner uh sometime. I completely understand if you don’t want to though.”

Y/n smiled at Spencer’s adorable nervousness as he asked her out. She’d been waiting all appointment long for him to ask her. After waiting a couple seconds, pretending to contemplate his invite, y/n slid her card in Spencer’s hand before leaning up to his ear.

“Call me once you can see again.”

[pappydaddy]

Heather Part Two (j.m.)

A/N: Okay, so I have decided to start saying as little as possible in my A/Ns just to see if it brings in more interaction, if you guys want me to continue my ramblings, just shoot me a DM or something and I won’t stop them. This is a repost bc nobody saw this the first time?? Pls interact with this (preferably reblogging, but likes are good too!) 

 Anywho, this is the second part of Heather (my JJ imagine based on Heather by Conan Gray) and this is told from JJ’s perspective, I got this idea when I found this kinda parody/cover of the original song which will be linked below. I put some different scenes in this one too so it’s not just a retelling of my first part. Anyway, enjoy!!

Show/Movie: Outer Banks

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Sad, angst, longing, negative thoughts about oneself (appearance, personality, etc), comparing to other people, jealousy, unspoken feelings

Might do a part three? I’ll probably do a part three.

Heather Cover by Zachary Tay

Part One | Part Two - You’re here!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

  He didn’t technically see her when she arrived at the beach, but he still knew she was there before she wandered down the dunes. He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, trying to get a peek of her. There she was, her shoes swinging by her side, her hair blowing in the wind as she walked. She didn’t look towards the group of her friends, instead, she scanned the beach and JJ found himself missing her gorgeous eyes. He watched her, her eyes slowly drifting towards the fire JJ sat at. In a spilt second, their eyes connected and JJ wished he could stay in her gaze forever, but her eyes were ripped from his as she breezed past the group.

 The girl under his arm laughed loudly, making him draw his eyes away from Y/N. He looked at the black-haired girl (Heather) donned in his sweater, clinging to him as she laughed at something John B had said. “What’s so funny,” JJ asked, trying to play off his absence. He didn’t really listen to John B’s recount. “Oh, must have had to heard it in the moment, I guess.” He mumbled, his eyes following Y/N as Jack, her co-worker from The Wreck ran towards her, a large smile on his face. He took in Y/N’s appearance, the sweater she wore was too big for her, it certainly wasn’t hers. It dawned on him like a lighting strike; it was Jack’s sweater. He felt a pang in his heart, remembering how she looked in his own sweater, the very sweater Heather wore right in that moment.

 He remembered how good Y/N looked in his sweater and how often she wore it after he had given it to her. On Heather, it was just a piece of polyester fabric, but on Y/N, it was much more than just a sweater. The day she gave his sweater back to him was the day he concluded that she didn’t like him. He couldn’t imagine how he even thought she would like him, he’s not even good enough for his father and he could barely stand himself. How the hell would Y/N want him if he didn’t even want himself? He didn’t even understand how Heather liked him.

 His eyes followed Jack as he ran off once again, obviously apologizing profusely to Y/N. Jack was everything JJ wasn’t: sweet, smart, hard-working, career driven, and loved. JJ wanted to hate Jack, but he couldn’t, he was too good of a person. He could see that Y/N and Jack would make a good couple, he could see why Y/N would have her gaze set on him. His dark hair, his tall stature, his boy-next-door smile - he was the complete package.

 Setting his eyes on Y/N yet again, he saw her sit down on a piece of driftwood, staring out at the ocean as the waves lapped up towards her barefeet. He let himself imagine that the sweater she was wrapped up in was his. He often replayed the December night he gave his sweater to her in his head, imagining that he had actually done what he wanted - kissing her. He liked to live in that alternate story at night, laying in his bed. He sighed, glad he didn’t kiss her in the long-run, for he didn’t know who he liked more: Y/N or Heather. “JJ, you should tell Heather about that one time when John B was high off his ass when CPS came knocking on his door.” Kie laughed, capturing JJ’s attention from the girl sitting on the driftwood.

 “Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” JJ laughed, remembering that day as he launched into his story. Though his eyes weren’t on her, Y/N still plagued his mind, having been there that day as well, skipping school to smoke with JJ and John B. He laughed as he retold the story, poking fun at John B, but leaving Y/n out of the story, not wanting to pull her into his fling with Heather, knowing there will be drama if he did.

 Though he was immersed in the story he was telling, he still noticed Y/N standing and walking along the beach, leaving the party before it even started. The bleeding colours in the sky made her skin glow with pink and orange, making her look like the figure of beauty. As she walked away, JJ could have cried. He didn’t understand how he, the boy who wanted nothing to do with the messiness of love, ended up in this situation.

____

  The words Kie had told him earlier rattled in his brain like a single pill in a bottle. His mind played that moment back like a movie reel continuously playing. Once it ended, it restarted again. Like a painful torture device used to drive him to the brink of insanity.

 “I don’t get why Y/N keeps avoiding us! We never see her anymore, not since Heather started hanging out with us,” JJ groaned, plunking himself down on the couch dramatically. He had asked Y/N earlier at school (after cornering her at her locker) if she wanted to have a movie night just like old times, but she had told him she was going to study for a big biology test she had. “Why does she even need to study anyway? She’s at the top of her biology class, only second to Pope, of course.” JJ threw in the last comment, pleasing his friend who sat beside him on the couch, a freshly popped bowl of popcorn in his lap.

 “You guys do know why, right?” Kie asked, looking over her shoulder at them as she shifted through the DVD collection, the group deciding to go old school for the night. JJ shook his head while John B and Pope both nodded, making noises of understanding. JJ looked around, confusion clearly painted on his face.

 “Y/N still likes JJ.” Pope commented, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, chewing it as if what he had just said was common knowledge.

 “What?” JJ asked, panicked, glad that Heather was hanging out with some of her other friends tonight instead of being with them. If she had been here, he would have never be given this piece of information.

 “You didn’t know?” John B asked, bewildered that JJ hadn’t picked up on anything.

 “Obviously not-” JJ cried, his eyes wide.

 “It was obvious, we all thought you had known by at least December third when you gave her your sweater, we thought that was you making your move on her finally.” Kie explained, shrugging.

 JJ still couldn’t believe that. If only he had seen how much she liked him, maybe he wouldn’t be praying for his eyes to catch her’s every time she walked by him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to cry every time they broke eye contact. Maybe he wouldn’t have assumed she likes Jack. He groaned, flopping around in the spare bed at John B’s, staring up at the dark ceiling as moonlight casted the window’s shadow onto the white surface.

 If he had known how much Y/N liked him that night, he wouldn’t be questioning who he liked more still. Maybe he didn’t like Heather at all. Now that he knew that Y/N likes him, he started to realize that maybe he didn’t truly like Heather, instead, only liking the idea of the distraction from the one he really liked. Though he realized this, he couldn’t do anything about it anytime soon. He had plans to eat lunch tomorrow with Heather and the group, he couldn’t break up with Heather at The Wreck.

_____

 Y/N was working today. That was the whole reason they were eating at The Wreck, to see her. John B and Pope missed her, Kie was able to see her during the shifts they shared or during shift changes, but the boys hadn’t seen her. JJ and Heather stood on the deck, leaning against the railing and JJ was giving the performance of his life. He couldn’t have Heather thinking that something was going on with him (he still had no idea who he liked more) so he was trying to act as normal as possible around her despite the fact that a war raged in his mind.

 He tried to keep his eyes on Heather as she talked adamantly. JJ nodded along, not really listening. Heather was beautiful and kind, but JJ grew bored easily. They had nothing in common. He was a surfer, she was from the city filled with concrete buildings and shopping malls. She just didn’t understand the joy in the little things. When JJ wanted to stargaze, she’d rather gaze at a TV screen. When JJ wanted to just sit on the beach and listen to the waves, she wanted to take pictures. When JJ just wanted to sit on his surfboard and let the waves roll under him, she didn’t want to ruin her make-up.

 Her hand squeezed his as she asked him about the stores he shopped at. He, not wanting to ignore her, joined her one-sided conversation and explained his mode of gaining clothes. She listened for the most part, but listening wasn’t really Heather’s strong suit. She loved to talk, not that JJ minded, but he would also like to have a conversation without being interrupted with a completely different story. He shot a glance in through the door, seeing Y/N at a table, talking with the costumers. She nodded, a shining smile on her face. JJ loved talking with Y/N. She’d listen, she’d talk. He’d listen, he’d talk. It was a perfectly balanced conversation with Y/N.

 He looked back down at Heather when she had asked him yet another question, but JJ wasn’t listening. “I’m sorry, what?” He asked, blinking. Heather giggled, thinking JJ was just a spacey type person who stared off in the distance, zoning out easily.

 “I asked about your shark tooth necklace, I’ve always wanted one.” She told him, the hand, that wasn’t in his, reaching up to fiddle with the shark tooth. JJ looked down at it, smiling fondly.

 “My friend made it for me with the shark tooth I found, I’ve never taken it off since they gave it to me.” He left out that it was Y/N who made it for him while she was going through her necklace making phase in middle school. She had made it too big originally, but it was okay since JJ grew since then.

 “Oh, well, maybe I could wear it sometime,” Heather asked flirtatiously. JJ gulped, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want to give it to her, but he didn’t want to start a fight before they ate a meal with his friends in public. Instead of answering, he pressed his lips to her’s in a lingering, long kiss. Heather smiled, giggling against his lips. Pulling away from the kiss, JJ glanced at the parking lot to see if John B and Pope were there yet, but his eyes came up with nothing. Heather shivered as a strong wind blew by them. “I’m a little cold.”

 JJ looked down at her, seeing that she didn’t have his sweater on. It was different, when Y/N had his sweater, she always wore it, or at least brought it, just in case she got cold. Heather didn’t bring it anywhere unless JJ asked about it. Wordlessly, JJ unlaced their fingers, dropping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him. “I wonder if Y/N is cold? She doesn’t have a sweater on, only a t-shirt.” He thought, watching the parking lot out of the corner of his eye. He sighed, trying to clear his mind.

 “Yo! Let’s get some grub! I’m starving,”John B cheered, piling out of the van with Pope who cheered in agreement. JJ pulled away a bit too quick to play it off as normal while John B and Pope jogged up the stairs, their sneakers slapping the wooden deck. They walked right into the restaurant, leaving Heather and JJ to follow them. The bell above the door dinged, making Y/N and Jack look up from what they were doing. JJ looked up, seeing Jack leaning across Y/N, his shoulder touching her torso ever so lightly as he cleaned up spilt water. “Hi, Y/N! Where is your section?” John B asked.

 “Sorry, John B, I’ll have to take your table so she can get cleaned up, next time.” Jack told him, getting another dry towel to try and help her dry her clothes so she wasn’t dripping everywhere. JJ could sense John B’s disappointment, and he had to admit he was a little bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to hear Y/N’s sweet voice that he missed so much.

 “Thanks, Jack,” John B nodded his chin in Jack’s direction. “Maybe we’ll talk before we leave, Y/N.” Y/N looked back up from her shirt at the mention of her name, nodding. Their eyes connected as Kie and Heather jumped into a conversation. Every time their eyes connected, it was such a relief to JJ it truly was a sight for sore eyes. Much to his disappointment, their eye contact was gone as fast as it came when Jack interrupted.

 “That should be good, Y/N,” She looked from JJ’s eyes to meet Jack’s. The sight of her eyes connecting with Jack’s made JJ want to cry, missing that tiny connection that seemed to be the extent of their friendship these days. “You should go get changed, I’ll take these to the table for you, table four, right?” The group started to move, but JJ wanted to stay there, see if their eye would meet again before she disappeared to change, but he had to go with them. He was just out of earshot when she replied to Jack who carried the tray of drinks towards table four effortlessly.

____

 He knew he shouldn’t have done this at school. He was kicking himself as Heather weeped, her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Heather,” He whispered, nervously looking at the crowd watching them. They were stood next to the side of the building, the crowd gathering in the parking lot. He had tried to do it privately, but he also wanted a clean cut. When he saw his sweater in Heather’s hand, he had known that today was the day. “It’s just not working out.” He tried to console her, his fist gripping the sweater he held now.

 The group watching whispered, making JJ roll his eyes. Now he was going to be painted the villain, the heartless asshole who broke up with the girl in front of the whole school even though they just see her weeping and gasping, not the part where JJ was actually considerate for once. Normally, it was a harsh slap to his cheek and a few tears slipping past their eyes as they walked away, not full on sobs. Especially since they were only going out for three weeks - tops.

 Heather looked up from her hands, letting her arms swing at her sides as she glared at JJ. Black streaks of makeup cascading down her cheeks. With a final, harsh glare at JJ, she ran off, the group of people parting to let her through. JJ watched her run, his shoulders deflating at his ruined chance of keeping the break-up private. His eyes landed on one of the pairs of people Heather parted in her haste to escape: Y/N and Jack. They stood side by side, Jack holding both their books in his hands, both their bookbag straps on his shoulders.

 The group quickly dispersed, giving JJ a perfect view of them. He could see Jack say something to Y/N before she said something back, their eyes catching each other, once again making eye contact. JJ was so absorbed in her eyes that he didn’t notice the sympathetic smile she sent his way. It felt like forever as he stared into her eyes, her just staring back. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to stay, but he couldn’t just break-up with Heather and then turn around, rush towards Y/N, sweep her off her feet and profess his love for her - then he would be an asshole.

 “Come on, Y/N, let’s go. We can’t be late for our shift.” JJ heard Jack tell her, forcing her to break away from JJ’s eyes. He felt tears prick his eyes at the loss of their moment. His eyes never left her, once again hoping for their eyes to connect again, even though he had to watch her eyes connect with Jack’s which caused his heart to throb painfully. Watching her turn and walk towards Jack’s pick-up truck was the sight that made him want to die, then the pain in his heart would stop - right? The picture of her sitting in his passanger seat didn’t sit right with JJ. The thump of Jack tossing their books and bags in the bed of his truck made JJ flinch, but he still never took his eyes off Y/N, not even when Jack slipped onto the bench seat beside her, starting his truck and slamming his door.

 His pleas were answered when Y/N turned to gaze out the window, their eyes connecting once again in a fleeting moment before Jack slowly pulled out of the spot, exiting the nearly empty parking lot. JJ watched the truck as it drove down the road, waiting until it was out of his sight before he moved. He found out who he liked more. It was Y/N. It was always Y/N.

[scarlettjskipper]

Dear Barbatos (Barbatos X Gender Neutral MC)

@barbatos-muse @barbatos-pls-step-on-me (I think you might like this. This one’s for all the Barbatos fans starved for content.)

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

It had been a month since Y/N left Devildom. Life for the brothers was resuming its normal course, but their presence was deeply missed. Their absence left its mark on Diavolo as well. He was noticeably less enthusiastic about... Everything. Barbatos found himself concerned about his young master, as well as the brothers. It wasn’t like them to be like this. But then... He could understand. He found himself missing Y/N, too. In comparison to everyone else in R.A.D. , he had interacted with them the least, but he had really enjoyed their company, even if it had been for the briefest of moments. 

Yes, he did miss them, though he wouldn’t want to admit it.

One of the ways in which everyone’s sadness at Y/N’s absence manifested was them letting anyone go to Y/N’s room in the House of Lamentation. That place needed to be cleaned but entering the room had been unofficially forbidden.

It taken a lot of persuasion from Barbatos’ side to let them allow him to go. He now found himself outside Y/N’s room, unlocking the door.

If he were to be honest with himself, however, it was less his concern for cleanliness, more his desire to feel closer to them.

He entered the room, lightly shutting the door behind him. The room was much cleaner than he had expected, though there was a thin coating of dust covering most of the surfaces of the room. Barbatos wrinkled his nose. It was a good thing he had insisted on coming here to clean the place. It would’ve only gotten worse over time.

He got to work, but his mind was elsewhere. He could still smell the faint scent of their perfume. He could imagine them in this room, studying on the desk, lazily sprawled out on their bed, sitting on the couch, talking to the brothers on their D.D.D. He found himself growing a little envious of the seven brothers. They were able to spend so much time with Y/N while he-

Too late for that. He told himself. No point thinking about it now.

He opened the drawer of the desk to clean it as well, but a little envelope caught his eye. He took it out and was surprised to see what was written on it.

‘For Barbatos’.

He narrowed his brow thoughtfully. Perhaps they had intended to give this to him, but forgot? It wouldn’t be wrong for him to read it now, would it? It was addressed to him, after all.

He opened the envelope to reveal a sheet of paper.

A letter.

Dear Barbatos, it said.

I hope I’ll be able to bring myself to give this to you. I honestly doubt it, though. So I guess it’ll be okay if I bare my soul open here.

“Well, that’s rather dramatic.” He remarked, already smiling.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the first time I saw you. Seriously. I remember looking into your eyes as you introduced yourself, and thinking, “He’s beautiful.” Time seemed to stop as I looked at you. Or were you using your abilities? Can you actually stop time? Or was it just me?

“Probably just you.” He murmured. He felt really happy to read this, somehow. His chest felt warm, and extremely tight. What was this?

I kept wanting to see you again, but how was I supposed to do that? What excuse could I find to go to the Demon Lord’s Palace?

Every time, every rare instance I was there, however, I hoped to talk to you. To even see you. I was so happy whenever I did. I wanted to see you, meet you, talk to you, get to know you, but how?

Finding no answers to that, I decided to keep this to myself. To secretly admire you from afar.

And I found so much to admire. Hardly anyone seemed to appreciate what you did. You never complained. You were always polite, composed and ever helpful. Rarely have I ever seen you raise your voice. How could I not adore you?

He wasn’t sure how to react to that. Everything that they had just mentioned... It had always been expected of him. To find someone who appreciated that instead of automatically assuming he’d behave that way was... Gratifying.

Yet somehow, I was a little hesitant to try expressing what I felt because I had the distinct feeling that you didn’t like me very much. You tolerated my presence, you were courteous, but you’d rather not have me around.

He pursed his lips at those words. It... Hurt to read those lines. “Did you really think that?” He wondered if he had acted too distant, too aloof. He wasn’t the best at being open with others. That was just his nature. But should he have tried to be a little more open?

And why did he care?

Was it just your nature? Or a cleverly constructed facade to stop yourself, and me, from getting too close? 

“Spot on.” He found himself smiling a little, again. Why was it so heartwarming to see that they understood him a little? 

Regardless... I hope I didn’t cause trouble for you.

“You didn’t, not really.”

I remember you telling me that you felt that your life was boring. I hope my presence was... Refreshing. I hope I made things a little more interesting.

“You most certainly did.” There’s that feeling again.

I’ve written so much and still haven’t come to the point. I probably should. You have more to do then read the romantic ramblings of some human.

Romantic? He felt his heart race. “You aren’t rambling, and neither are you ‘some human.’ ” He found himself saying.

Simply put:

I love you.

And suddenly everything seemed to make sense.

“That’s it.” He whispered. “That’s exactly what I’m feeling.” 

And I will continue to, for the rest of my life. Though that’s not very long, is it?

Anyway, I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re well. That’s all I’d ever want.

Yours truly,

Y/N

His hands around the paper tightened. His heart was a storm of emotions. It was like a dam holding back innumerable feelings had just been broken, and he was flooded with what he had tried to suppress. He blinked, trying to compose himself. Where those- Tears in his eyes? Was he actually crying because of this human? “No, it’s not just them.” He tried to speak in an attempt to steady himself. “It’s me, as well.” He realised. “I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of what I thought or felt. I should have said something when they were still here.” He said ruefully.

He carefully folded the paper and put it back into the envelope. He gently tucked it into his pocket and continued cleaning the room, taking his time, savouring every moment.

He went towards the door after he was done, lingering at the threshold, not wanting to leave.

They won’t come back if you stay here. He reasoned with himself.

He walked away from the room, the letter in his pocket feeling comfortingly warm in his pocket.

I remember witnessing a future where you come back here. I hope it happens in this reality. I hope you’ll come back.

I’ll wait for you... Y/N.  

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

[writeraquamarinara]

as with everything else in life, I’m late to making this post. I tend to make one around Jan 1st every year, but it’s now a few days after that, and all i can say for myself is that time is non-consequential during a pandemic, right? right.

anywho, this is my usual “thank you for keeping me going this year” post, but with even more fervor. 2020 would not have been nearly as tolerable without you all in it. and when i say all i really do mean all. thank you to anyone who follows me here or has read and supported my work on AO3 or has sent me a message or an ask or even just likes my posts. you can never know how many people’s hearts you’ve touched, lives you’ve made better, but i’m telling you now: you made me smile and laugh and feel love in a year that could have easily stolen all that. thank you for sticking around.

a few more specific shoutouts are under the cut to keep from flooding your dashes. i hope you’re all having a wonderful start to the new year.

much love, mari

to @anniemurphys: ria, i cannot thank you enough, for so many things. you played such a vital role in turning this year around for me. your friendship, and the friendships you’ve helped me make through book club, kept me smiling from week to week. i never wanted to leave our meetings, no matter how long they’d already gone. I could listen to your literary analyses and life advice for days on end. you’re such a kind, patient, loving person, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. here’s to another year of freaking out over taylor swift albums and the power inherent in voluntarily turning oneself into vegetation.

to @bigdsgirl: heidi, you’re one of the sweetest, most hard-working people i know. you amaze me, and you graciously humor my latest hyper fixations—somehow always knowing, always reblogging content related to what i’m obsessing over at the moment. you give such great advice and have such a calming presence that i love being in chats and on calls with you. i cannot wait for more zoom movie nights in 2021.

to @hellodinoflower: raptor, you’ve supported me for so many years now, and whenever i feel down about my writing i’ll go back through the comments on some of my old fics and yours always make me tear up. you’re so thoughtful and kind and excited about my work that i cannot help but be the same. i hope you enjoyed the little dino reference in pride & publishing—i tried my best, i really did—and i hope you’re doing well. sending you so much love.

to @soyforramen: soy, i promise i’ll get to your head canon asks some day. i promise i haven’t forgotten them; i’m just uncreative and uninspired, but what else is new. you, however, are brilliant and kind and thoughtful, and your guidance in making both life and fic-writing decisions has been so important to me this year. wishing you so much luck with school this year, and even more happiness.

to @ithoughtyoulikedmereckless: rach, where to even begin? you’re the person i talk to when i’m feeling happy or sad or annoyed or angry or pretty much anything, really. our FaceTime convos are my favourite, no matter what time of day we have them at (somehow, the ones at 10pm are just as crazy as the ones at 3am, and i don’t really understand how or why, but i love that for us). i’ve learned so much about myself through my conversations with you, and you keep me level headed when i start doubting myself too much. you understand me on such an amazing level and i’m so lucky that you reached out to me so many years ago. i’m so lucky that we just happened to find each other on here and just so happened to move near each other this year. i still cannot believe i get to see you in person and go on walks in the woods with you. you’re such a talented photographer, writer, painter, baker, and all around artist; an incredibly kind and funny person; and i aspire to be you. i’m rambling now, but just know that i love you.

to @catthecoder: lav, my light, my love. seeing your icon and username on my dash makes me smile so hard. you just give off the best vibes and chatting with you always leaves me feeling like i’ve been basking in the sunlight for the past few hours. we need to make a resolution to sprint with each other more often this year, even if 2021 is going to be as hectic as ever, as i find so much joy in reading your snippets as we go along. you’re such a wonderful writer, and i often read your gift to me from years ago for inspiration and comfort. i hope you’re doing well and am sending so much love.

to @stirringsofconsciousness: stirrings!! i know you’ve had a super busy year, but you still made time to chat with me and i’ll be forever grateful. i often think about the advice you’ve left for me and the thoughtful responses you’ve given to my personal posts and find so much inspiration in your own words and actions. i also still cannot get over the time when you sent me a post of artful vases because you thought of me when you saw them. mortifying ordeal of being known who? anyways lol, i just wanted to thank you for being in my life and wish you a happy 2021.

to @heavy-lies-the-crown: alex, i just wanted to thank you for putting your time and energy towards answering my incessant questions this year. you’ve been an inspiration to me as a writer ever since i first found your work, but you’re also an inspiration to me as a person, and i’m always thinking about the advice you’ve given me. i hope you had a wonderful end to 2020, and that 2021 brings you even more joy than seeing your posts on my dash brings me. much love.

to @stonerbughead: maria, you brought so much happiness to my 2020. your support for my work took my breath away every time, and I swear I nearly cried when I saw your latest comments on pride and publishing. you put so much time and energy into this fandom, and into supporting the people in it, and I hope you know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. we all love you, and we’re so lucky to have you; your fics are brilliant, your podcast highlights are a joy to read, and your disdain for ras is hilarious. thank you for being you. sending lots of love.

to @sullypants: sully, it’s been years and i still marvel at how lucky i am to know you. you’ve taught me so much, from how to be more thoughtful to how to navigate therapy and self-love to how to be a kinder person in the world. you introduced me to ask polly and you send me really nice asks and you’re one of like four people who interacts with my posts on a consistent basis, which makes me feel a little less alone in the world, if that makes any sense. i’m going to stop myself from rambling on or else i might cry, but i just wanted to thank you for—here comes the cliche—changing my life (doesn’t everyone we meet change our lives, in some way or another? but you’ve changed mine considerably, and for the better). sending you so much love (in the form of both yellow and blue heart emojis)

to @justcourbeau: mel, our paths cross less frequently now than they used to, but that doesn’t mean i don’t think about you and the conversations we’ve had, or smile when i come across your posts on my dash, or when i happen to open up instagram once in a blue moon and see you’ve posted on your story. please never stop sending me sparknotes memes—especially cask of amontillado ones. your words of advice from the night i called you, distraught, a few years ago live in my brain rent free, and i will continue to carry them into 2021 with me. i hope 2021 treats you well, and that you achieve all you want and more. sending you an immense amount of love.

to @protectorofthesmoll: your string of comments on pride and publishing made me cry multiple times, i swear. i still read them back every so often, when i’m trying to muster the courage to start up on the new chapter. your support means so much to me, and it amazes me how far back it goes: I’m pretty sure I have at least two asks of yours sitting in my inbox, from back in 2018 when I had barely any followers or supporters, both of them writing prompts that I never filled. i promise i’ll get to them one day. anywho, i just wanted to thank you for your support this year, and every year before that. wishing you so much love and happiness in 2021.

to @panalegs27: 2020 was the year of figuring out that we have so much in common: a hatred of dating apps, confusion over tumblr’s obsession with the raven cycle, and an attraction to logan lerman with gray hair. thank you for chatting about all of these things, and more, with me; seeing that you’ve sent me a post always makes me smile, and our conversations make me laugh. wishing you even more love and laughter in 2021.

to @indiebughead: maria, it’s been so lovely getting to know you more over the course of this year. i love listening to your stories and living vicariously through you, lol. (i want updates on new neighbor boy, asap!) thank you for listening to my petty rants and for encouraging me to make bad decisions and be salty on main when i want to be. i couldn’t have asked for a more supportive conspirer ;) sending lots of love.

to @redundantoxymorons: iz, you’re one of the smartest, most eloquent, most supportive people i know. i know 2021 will be both stressful and exciting in many ways, and i wish you all the best. i know you’re going to thrive wherever you end up, and i’ll cheer you on as you navigate this new world, just as you’ve done for me all these years. i’m so lucky to have you as a friend, supporter, and beta, and all of our conversations bring me so much joy. pls continue to gush about taylor swift and rec books and send uquizzes with results that make me feel Known in 2021. i love you very much <3

to @cracklr: leda, i’ve missed your passive aggressive smiley faces, but your gushing insta comment more than made up for that, i promise :) sending you so much love and happiness in this new year <3

to @dottie-wan-kenobi: dottie, the posts we send each other make me so upset, but in a good way—the “if i just had to see this nasty shit then so do you” kind of way—and i love that about our relationship. who else would understand how disgustingly hilarious something is other than my wife? no one, that’s who. i often think about how you were the first friend i made in fandom, and i’ll be forever grateful for that: i couldn’t have found a better person. i love you so much, and am sending you all my love.

this list of shoutouts is really much shorter than it should be, but my brain is currently friend and i cannot seem to think properly anymore. therefore, i’m going to call it a day and reiterate my above statements that I love you all, and I hope you have a fucking amazing 2021.

[indimlights]

✨Merry christmas Cille✨

To: @birthdaysentiment 💛

-> From: @indimlights (Rodrigo)

Hi Cille! I guess it's up to me to kick off this "little" surprise but I don't even know where to start...

I remember really well the first time I saw a post of yours, I was still lurking back then and the moment I read it I felt so many things, things I don't know how to describe and that I never thought words could make me feel and I knew, I just knew that I had to see more. Fast-forward a couple of hours I knew your blog by heart, I had looked at so many of your posts and every single one was as amazing as the first one, as touching as the first one and as deep as the first one.

The meaning you put on words still gets to me every single day, you have such a way into them and don't even get me started on your music analysis. The moment I read the first one I was mind-blown! The things you catch, the connections you make between the music and the scene, the way you describe the scenes, it makes me go back, relive the moment and feel everything I felt the first time I watched it and all this just by... reading your words! If that doesn't tell me how amazing you are with them I don't know what will.

From that day I always wished I could talk to you, get to know the person behind the words, behind the masterpieces, behind the blog because you seemed like such a sweet person and now... After some time, I got that chance and I'm so happy I got it. You are everything I thought you would be and 1000x more, you are sweet, caring, smart, loving, wise, joyful and so supportive to me and to everyone in this community! You always spread love and that's so important and so nice of you to do, the way you write essays in the tags for everyone's posts just shows that! It's such a simple thing but means so much.

And I'm not even mentioning how talented you are with non-written posts because those are on another level aswell, I mean you always surprise me with your ideas and creativity and just knowing that whenever I come here I will have some sort of attack waiting for me just keeps me going and I love everything you do so much.

I'll never be able to thank you enough for being so welcoming when I barely knew anyone and for making me feel so much more comfortable here! Getting to know you better and to share this experience with someone like you has been a blessing and I wouldn't change any second of it, thank you for everything you have done and for always being so sweet to me. I don't understand what I did to deserve all that but that just shows again how wonderful you are.

I'm wishing you a merry christmas! Surrounded by everyone you love and that makes you happy because you deserve that and so much more, please never change, never stop being like this, a special and wonderful person. I hope you enjoy this surprise :) Have a wonderful day Cille 💛

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

-> From: @remy3010 (Remy)

Hihi Cille❤ I love your blog so much especially music analysis! I just fall in love with your music analysis since your first posts.

For me whose mother tongue is not English, it takes a while to read but I'd love to. Because these articles deserve more people to see (including me)！

I have read every article of yours, the content touches me all the time. (Sometimes I have a lot of words want to tell you, But I don’t know how to speak in English..sorry🥺so I give❤ and reblog)

Anyway, thank you for writing beautiful words and sharing with us! I hope you can keep this passion forever, and everything go well. May you have wonderful days my friend ❤

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

-> From: @franboos (Francine)

hi bb cille,

wanted to tell u that i love u blog and the time u put into analyzing stuff is shhshdhdhdhd. queen shit. u seen so genuine to talk to idk, i get those nice, non judgmental, relaxed and cool vibes from u. lmao. pls stay on tumblr for as long as u can cuz i love ur posts. u notice such little things in clips from wtfock, like u have a very detailed eye miss hehe. i really want to get to know u more cuz i really think we could vibe v well together, and that’s on perioood 😌. i hope u have a great great day while reading this queen. never stop what you’re doing cuz ur great at it. i love you !!

many kusjes and knuffels*,

fran

(*knuffels means hugs but also stuffed animal in dutch, did u know that? otherwise now u do, nice isn’t it)

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

-> From: @dagcutie (Pauline)

hey hey cille!!

I must admit i’m very much a fan of you and your blog

first of all, your posts? chefs kiss!! i mean your music analysis are amazing and so on point, your photo edits are always perfect and the colorings are so beautiful, your long text posts 'drabble/headcanon style' are so cute and always makes me so soft and emotional...

your love for black and white? that’s a big yes!! anyways everything you do is perfect!!

also can we take a moment to appreciate your person? i think we can and we must do it..

you’re always so supportive and kind, all the nice tags you let under peoples creations are so sweet!! I also could cry about how cute you are always leaving lovely messages to people inbox or coming randomly to them to say something nice.. you’re the most beautiful soul and a blessing for this fandom!! please never stop being you!! ily a lot, sending you all my love and i wish you an amazing day<3

knus og kys til dig💛✨

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

-> From: @allee-sander (Tanya)

Cille, you are an amazing person. you are so kind and loving. every time i see you on my dash, my face lights up. you are a literal angel. you are loved and appreciated, never forget that.

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

-> From: @tsjernobyl (Emma)

Cille, you are a genuinely kind and loving soul who's just on this site to talk about the things you love and spread a little joy and everyone can tell that the moment they go onto your blog. i've seen you be nothing but lovely to everyone you interact with and it's a real honor to be mutuals with you and interact from time to time. You are always one of the sweetest and most supportive people here, and i hope you feel that love flowing back to you at all times because you always have my warmest wishes and love!!!!!

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

-> From: @dreamaur (Ann)

How does it feel to be so cool and sweet and supportive??? I love you and your mind and how you see so many details and capture them so well with words,,,queen keep going with your top tier analysis and text posts that make me emotional everything single time

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

-> From: @annonymannonym (Alice)

Where do I even begin ummm ... well words may not be enough to describe such angelic human being that Cille is but today is about her *about you Cille* !♡! Honestly I’m so so happy and honoured and so grateful to have meet and know you and come along your blog and your amazing posts and edits , let’s s not forget about the masterpiece that your analysis is cuz I live for every single one of them ! Always so on point and touchy and so so emotionally, they give you a whole new perspective and point of view and helps you connect with the person that goes throught those feelings , helping you understand so much deeper the feelings and the emotions he experience in that right moment( so thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking your time and writing these it really shows how much passion and love you put on making these! they absolute helped me to understand and feel much more the meaning behind all these little moments you captured so so well and wonderful ! ) You’re always such a blessing here so lovely friendly so goodhearted and sooo on ... < insert here all the good compliments in the world > cuz they all applies to you ! Know that you’re so special and such a light a sunshine wherever you are and go , you always spread so much positivity and good energy and love and compassion and you support every single people your way comes along with and you shown so much respect and love and understanding ! Always with a wise and thoughtful mind and with the right words at you using them with so much care and mining fullness ! And your blog i love love love it the b&w aesthetic and your love for it owns my heart !! I adore your posts so much ( or ramblings or thoughts as you may call them but know they are so so much more than that its a way of yours to express yourself and open up and pour every feeling you experience and many people found themselves and feel with you , I find myself in them and resonate with them every time ! ahh and your tags that you write in every post are sooo sweet and cute i could read them all day long just coming on your blog and read them makes my day so much better ) they are such a good way to brighten your day and they put a smile on my face whenever i see you on my dash truly a blessing to have you here! Never forget how unique and special human being you are and every one who has you in their lives are very blessed to have you ! Never change being this beautiful inside and out but most importantly inside ! literally a tresure your soul is and must be protected at all cost so take very good care of it ! Don’t forget to always do what makes you happy and gives joy and peace and just you know that good feeling you have in your chest and heart whenever you do something you love and like with passion and joy. I could say so much more but maybe I’ll repeat myself cuz there are never enough compliments to say about how wonderful person you are! you deserve every single one of them ! I really meant every word i said from the bottom of my heart and know that i really apreciate and love all you do and I’ll be here to support you anytime! You deserve the absolute world and more!! love you Cille! ♡ Okey bye✿

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

-> From: @robbesdriesen (Bianca)

Cille ~ such a lovely presence to see on my dash always!! Your support towards everyone in the fandom is more than appreciated and so is your love that you continuously aim to spread <3

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

-> From: @happilyinsane (Dharaa)

Hey Cille 💕

Just wanted to say that I think you are really sweet and lovely. I see you everywhere on the tumblr. Wanna thank you for keeping this fandom alive during the drought and keep us entertained. I see your tags on people's posts and I always feel like you are so kind and sweet to spend your time appreciating people's work. Doesn't matter if its a photo or an edit or whatever. You are so nice to pay attention to everyone individually. You are such a good friend/mutual, always appreciating and sliding into their asks and just making their day a lil bit better. You definitely bring so many smiles on our faces. I am sure everyone is very thankful to have you in this fandom, I know I am.

I know we haven't interacted that much but thank you for sliding into my asks and giving me an opportunity to interact with you. You are the sweetest, baby. And I hope you like this whole thing that Rodrigo is doing, because you definitely deserve it. Keep lighting up our dashes with your posts, pls. Ilysm 💕

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

-> From: @alwaysaneverland (Sarah)

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

-> From: @theflowerisblue (Lola)

Cille! You’re such a present part of the tag! You’re always interacting and posting and I love reading what you have to say. Your music analysis are so interesting and I also think you’re really funny! I love your black and white aesthetic and most of all I love how supportive and positive you’re towards everyone!

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

-> From: @fvae (Fae)

hi cille!! I'm really glad to have met you through this fandom and I hope you like the surprise!! I loved to read your song analysis because they're always on point and well thought of👌 💯  and your edits!! *chef's kiss*

sending you lots of love and hugs 💕💖💫

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

-> From: @embeddedinmybrain (Tasfia)

Hi Cille! You are just a ray of sunshine!! And you are the sweetest and kindest person here. I loved following through with your wtfock music analysis posts bc everything you felt is exactly what I felt. They made me really emotional!! And of course I (and Sarah and Fae) appreciate your tags for moyo season so much. We wait for them and we read them to each other and we just love seeing your reactions to it. Your edits are incredibly amazing too and I love the colouring in them. You are just an amazing sweetheart and I’m so glad to know you 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕

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

-> From: @veerledejaegers (Soph)

Cille, you are very friendly and sweet, always insightful and seem like an incredibly lovely person that i hope i can get to know better ❤️(also love the black and white aesthetic)

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

-> From: @sanderxrobbee (Semri)

Cilleeeeeeeeeeee loml!!!! Merry Christmas to you! I genuinely wish you all the best and I hope you get to spend all the holidays in the best way possible! You’re such a blessing to this fandom because you’re talented in every single way, whether it’s your writing or your godly Photoshop skills, oh and let’s not forget your dedication because you’re there all the time to brighten our days and make us smile. I haven’t known you for long, but I truly love and appreciate all you do and I’m grateful that you always take the time to compliment everything and everyone. You have no idea how much it makes me smile when you say my gifs are good because I’ve yet to learn a lot, but you are seriously one of the biggest reasons I haven’t given up the second something got too complicated. Where am I going with this? No idea. Anyway, I adore the fuck out of you and I’m happy to take part in this “project” because you really deserve all the love in the world. Once again, happy holidays!

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

-> From: @hopelessromanticvirgo (Elene)

Talking about you Cille is making me always so emotional but I will try my best not to burst out from love and emotions. You’re one of the sweetest person here and I will never get tired of saying that.

We haven’t talked that much directly but I don’t need that to know you’re one of the greatest person here, I just know that for sure. I’m also sure about it because I can see the way you treat people? Even speaking about your tags? Like you take the time out of your day to make sure everybody gets love and everybody gets attention. You make all of us smile and I adore your tags on my stories. You can’t even imagine how many times I have reread your posts about it, like I crave it, I’m in love with it, it makes me feel so happy and so loved and I’m certain that everybody else feels the same way too. You always know how to make everybody’s day better and how to make them feel special.

And please, don’t even get me started on your posts! Your song analysis. Like I know I’ve told you this thousands of times before but I don’t care, I’m saying it again! The way you pictured and described all those songs and scenes!!! Like wow! I’d always reread your posts about that one specific scene after rewatching the season countless of times. (And you also did so many scenes!! I’m in awe and I’m emo from just thinking about it)

Watching clips were different but reading them with lyrics were a whole other thing. I just felt so connected with the whole story and scenes when I’d ready your posts. And connect scenes with the music and it was the best thing ever. Sometimes I still go back and reread some of my favorite posts of yours. I never get tired of it.

And you’re so kind and so sweet that I could write essays about it! Such a blessing to this world! I just love you a lot okay? Everybody needs somebody like you, somebody who shines from kindness and love and people around you must be so lucky who get to meet you everyday and talk to you!

Thank you so much for everything you do, for being you and for making my day better and making me smile every time you reblog my posts or every time I just see your username on my dashboard! It’s such a small gesture but means so much!

Thank you for existing, babe! I hope you’re gonna have a wonderful day! And I’m sending you the biggest hug and my positive vibes! I hope a smile never leaves your face! And I only wish the best things up onto you! I love you! ❤️❤️❤️

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

-> From: @itubainaretro (Esther)

Cille, my queen!!! Hi, sweetheart! Just dropping by to say that I hope you’re having a good day, despite the situation that the world is in, and that you’re feeling happy, loved, cherished and warm today, because you’re you and you deserve to feel all the best feelings in the world! I wish you all the happiness in the world and that all your wishes come true too, because you sure deserve it! Thank you for being this amazing, inspiring, talented and sweet person that you are and that I’ve come to know a little bit in the past few months! I know we don’t exactly talk that much, but I want you to know that I love seeing you, your beautiful edits and your extremely heart warming “moments that live in my head rent free” posts on my dash daily! They all really make my days! Thank you for sharing your posts with us and making this fandom (and the world, honestly) a better place! You’re amazing and I’m really glad I pressed the follow button the day I did when I started following you! I hope this little message makes you smile today, babe! Best wishes and lots and lots of love,

Esther (itubainaretro) ♥️

PS: don’t forget to hydrate yourself, wear a mask and stay safe haha xxxx.

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

-> From: @driesendotkom (Marie)

Dear cille,

the reason i‘m writing this is to simply say thank you. thank you for being such a stable part of the fandom. every time i go into the tag i know i will see you there and it makes me smile every time. i can’t tell you how many hours i spent reading every one of your song analysis. even now a year after season 3 ended i find myself going back to them now and then to reminisce and relive those moments all over again.

i also want to say thank you for being such a kind and welcoming person. you care so much about the people you are close to. you are so easy to talk to and you make the people around you feel comfortable instantly. you brought a little bit of hygge into my life and one more time i want to say thank you 💛

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

-> From: @driesenrobbe (Becca)

my dear, sweet, cille! you never fail to make me smile and im beyond happy that we became mutuals! im sure i’ve already said this a million times before but you really do have the biggest heart and i couldn’t thank you enough for all the love and support you constantly share to everybody in the wtfock fandom. plus the talent you possess... girllllll i love seeing your edits and reading your posts (honestly your mind is just wowowowow, it’s on a whole other level of incredible and i hope you know just how wonderful you are). also the way you always write entire essays in the tags of other posts... like you really do take the time to make everyone feel so welcomed and loved, and I’m sending you an infinite amount of love and appreciation in return! you really are the sweetest, most caring person who deserves all the happiness in the world, an actual ray of sunshine! i hope you know how loved and cherished you are, and that good vibes are always being sent your way. Many hugs and kusjes, ilysm!!!! <3

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

-> From: @mijnlief (Eline)

Dear Cille,

This year has been a weird one, but I do know that it has also been one of the best because of meeting you. In such a short time we became so close, and I am so grateful to have met you during these weird times. We are so alike in many ways and I love that so much. Our Skype conversations are my favorite and the essays you send me about my writing and just about me being me always make me feel happy and loved. You are the kindest and most generous person ever. I hope you know how special you are. I am so proud of you for everything you have achieved this year and for choosing yourself in situations where it got hard to make a choice in the first place. I know I tell you that everyday, but it doesn’t hurt to say it again right here. I hope this post makes you smile, because you deserve that so much for just being who you are. You bring happiness to all of my days and I can’t wait to hug you one day soon when everything in the world calms down again. I love you lots! 🧡 Eline

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

-> From: @onzeziggy (Laurien)

My sweetest Cille, where do I even begin? I suggest we should just begin from the very beginning and I’m sorry in advance if this is going to be a long, sappy text! But now that I have the chance (shout out to Rodrigo) for saying everything I want, I’m not able to tell you how long this will take.

So Cille, I still remember very clearly the first time I saw your account appearing on my dash. It was a music analysis from one of the songs from season 3. I was so amazed by it, because I could imagine how much time it takes to make it and observe every little detail in a single clip. I immediately fell in love with the concept of it and one week later, when you posted another one, my mouth dropped to the floor. Another music analysis? From the same person? Who is she and how do I become her friend? After that second post, I immediately started following you and became your little fangirl. I don’t lie when I say I was waiting every week for a new update of your incredible music analysis nor when I say I loved every single one of them (and still do). I know I already said this a million times, but your words of telling what was going on in every clip, about the emotions present in them, and how the music blended all of it together… No one, and I mean no one could have done it any better! I will forever be grateful for those posts and I want to thank you once again for wanting to share them and your talent with us!

After the music analysis adventure, your picture edits catched my eye. I love them so so much and I also took some creation of it for making some myself. Still, I was this little fangirl, knowing your name is Cille, but also wanting to know so much more about the person behind one of my favorite blogs. And now, during this hiatus, I can say I’ve got to know you and I couldn’t be any happier about it! Starting with little comments in each other’s tags, having little chats in the comment sections to screaming about a possible drawing of Robbe from Sander on their one year anniversary. And look at us now, reblogging almost every post and writing essays in each other’s tags hahah! Honestly, it keeps me alive during these times and I’m so glad I can do this together with you! I live for your attacks! Aaaah now that I’m talking about an attack, the fact that you have a dimples post ready is making me so excited and I think about it every day! We both know what’s important in love and life and that’s Robbe’s dimples! But this right here shows once again what an amazing sweet person you are! No one on here has ever done anything like this for me before, so I can’t thank you enough for this and all the other things you did and still do for me! And the privilege I have to be able to call you my friend warms my heart <33

I’m going to end this with a little quote Robbe wrote in one of his Instagram posts. When I read it again a couple of days ago, I immediately thought of you and what we’ve been through together the last few weeks :’)) Once again, thank you so much for everything you do for me and for everyone here in this fandom and being the amazing person you are! You deserve the whole world for it!

“Sometimes it’s like we just met yesterday, but other days it seems like I already know you my whole life, I love you Cille!” <33

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

I hope you enjoyed this💛 If you didn't know this community loved you yet (and I don't think that was possible), now you definetly do.

Extra: I'd like to thank once again everyone that took part it this surprise, you are all the sweetest for taking some time to write this and to help me with it! Thank you so so much✨

[socketz]

All is Pain in Poetry, But, Oh, The Play Goes On; Chapter One.

A Dead Poets Society Fanfiction story!

Charlie Dalton x Female!OC

Warnings : Mentions of Abuse, slight *slight* signs of it, mentions of bullying, name-calling I suppose, profanity, smoking, just some people bein’ mean :/

Word Count : like 11k (I’m pretty sure)

Summary : It’s the introductory day, unpleasant to speak the least, and Jane rejoins a few familiar faces.

Authors Note : There is like barely any Charlie content in this chapter (forgive me, pls) simply because it is the first, and I have so many plans for this being a sloooow burner. Anyways, I love Nuwanda, Meeksy, Pittsie, Neil, Todd, and Knox. Cameron can die. I also just realised that there’s no Pittsie in this chapter :// it’s okay though, our long boy will be there in the second, I promise.

Chapter One, The Summer Was No Better, But Hell-ton’s Surely Death.

“Come, now, Jane.” Father called, his suit elated to a perfect crisp. His face contorted with that of a ghostly scowl, drawn down and impossible to relieve. Father was not an impressionable person, though most certainly easy to disappoint. 

I made my way, wordlessly, to fall beside him, and found my complexion flushed with something of a gentle scarlet hue, nerves to embrace oneself in a mantra of lightly peppered sweat. My uniform - a dreadful thing, really - had been fitted during the summer; ‘You are but a young Lady, now, Jane,’ Father had insisted, ‘It is only right to find your clothing of a perfect fit.’ Though it had hardly mattered the years before, smothered within the lies my Father somehow wriggled us out of, and I could bitterly recall that it mattered not then, either. 

I felt ridiculous, swaddled in the warmth of a blazer, littered with perfectly aligned badges - meaningless copper circles, infused with the reminder of every stupid achievement I had picked up throughout my years - and long, iron-pressed, grey trousers - enclosed with a tight-fitting belt, for the weight I had seemed to loose beneath the summer heat had made an alarming appearance, and it seemed all too improper to alter them a mere seventy-two hours before the introductory day. The shirt - blouse, as I had never before become accustomed to occupying - was of a snug fit, particularly comfortable upon my partially flat breast, the tie hardly a bump higher than the other boys’. 

My shoes, shining with a fresh layer of polish, squeaked upon the echoing floor of the filling hall, and I found a breath slipping from my clenched jaw. It would merely be the same routine as every year had solemnly been. And, - I had no doubt about this, you understand - I knew I would grow to loathe it all the same. 

“Chin up, Jane.” Father scolded, a sharp pinch to the back of my arm. I hardly reacted, ripping myself away from such a close proximity, and fixed my expression with something blank, jaw set and teeth grinding. The walls, the candles - the scentless gloom that filled the air - reminded me of nothing other than Death. Than everything morose and unethical. 

The bench was cold, lifeless, and I found a sour taste to elope my grimace, subliminally displeased to be trapped within the grounds of Hell-ton for another draining, horrible, year. A low level of murmurs ran along the sea of suited heads, and I nearly - almost, though not quite - found an ache of sympathy for the innocent youths, trembling nervously, within the front row. Such excitement, I sighed, such naivety. They shall be ruined, it seemed clear, by the haunting excrement Hell-ton deemed ‘successful methoding.’ 

There was a poke to my side, the ratty whisper of an antagonizing tone. “Feels good to be home, huh?” Peter taunted, undoubtedly pleased to rid of myself for the better side of ten months. 

My silence remained, an ache to the clench in my jaw, and I simply hoped that his teasing would soon dissolve upon quiet nothingness. Though, as he prodded my side - supposedly the older twin, mind you - and he mumbled crude names within my ear, I found it reasonable that a lack of response would do little to deter his act of childishness. 

“Rat.” He whispered, prodding my side once again - a jab sure to leave an inklet of a mark. “God, I can’t wait to get rid of you. Two months by your side is enough to push me over the edge. I’d surely contemplated killing myself-” 

“Oh, why don’t you, then?” I snapped, a glare surely cut to burn. Of course, I didn’t mean it, though I found myself unwilling to project any kind of apology. He hardly deserved it, and I - as well as him, it seemed - had had just about enough of his relentless bullying. “Leave me alone, Peter.” I said. 

He scoffed something bitter, “At least I’d be missed, Snot-face.” He bit. 

I doubted it was much of a lie, and settled for a roll of the eyes. “Fuck off, Mutt.” 

“Billy-no-mates.” He hissed. 

“Worthless narcissist.” I sneered. 

“Virgin.” 

“Self aggrandising cunt.”

“Moron.”

“Boring, talentless, vegetable-” “Stop it!” Father snapped, another hushed whisper to intervene that of our own. I had hardly realised our spluttered, mumbled, argument, and the way in which it seemed to progress, “Both of you.” Father muttered, quiet and surely furious.  And yet, although it seemed it was not I whom began the fight, at all, my hair was ragged by Father's rough grip, and I were forced to attain a regularly seated position. I hissed upon the contact, a scowl to thunder my expression. “You will not embarrass me again, Jane.” He sneered. 

My silence loomed once more, and his grip released roughly, a violent jerk to my neck as he did so. Jane, I thought, an internally suppressed scoff, It’s always Jane’s fault. 

The blare of a riveting shrill erupted from the southern doors, clunking open in their heavy weight, and the bagpipes - those terrible things, awful, truly - began their entrance. A sigh slipped the breach of my lips, for I knew this mantra, and I knew it well. In a kind of solemnly delightful way, I suppose I was enthralled to enjoy my final experience of such liberal torture - it was my last year, after all. 

A pair of first-years trailed to the front of the line, followed by a blonde boy - of whom’s name I had forgotten, though he wore glasses, and was rather small - from my own year. The dreadful musician was to follow, and I decided to pay him no mind - perhaps ignorantly so - as the banners began to flutter forth. 

Tradition - upheld by none other than the snobby, pristine and particularly ginger Mr Cameron, a boy of whom mine own experiences seemed rather potently bad. 

Discipline - a familiar, soft, face. An expression of boredom, nonetheless, though I found a certain fondness about Knox, and thus my gaze seemed to brighten. He was a gentle boy, kind, sensitive.  

Honour - I hardly recognized him, though his… his similarity - a striking thing, one must admit - to Peter’s level in intelligence seemed all too familiar, through the grave number of classes we had shared across the years. 

Excellence - Neil Perry, a boy in which I knew little of, yet heard so much about. The sweetest of souls, the saddest of smiles - trapped, was Perry, in a loop his parents laid down. Perhaps I found a little of myself engulfed within his big brown eyes, upon the rare occurrence we happened to share a glance - always a grin, always a wave. Polite, the boy was, and nothing but the fact. For my life was nothing but the script in which I had been given, raised upon lies and bred to know no freedom, and he was much the same. 

There was a curt breath of silence, and the boys shuffled into line. It seemed the song had finished - a heavenly notion - and the perplexing weight of Mr Nolan’s tone - a sound no better than that of nails to a chalkboard - fell upon the seated audience. “Ladies, and Gentlemen.” He said. Oh, how I hated his voice. “Boys.” The summer had been long, tedious, and I liked it no more than I could have, and yet still - still, despite the liberal torture, and the inevitable bullying of mine own blood - it were of a better nature than this. 

This, of course, that was Mr Nolan, and his lengthy speeches, drawled upon every sentiment with a mean glare, or a calculating stare. 

“The light of knowledge.” He declared, tone blank, devastatingly boring. For although I could not shed a glance to the nervous boys, perched stoically, within the front row, and their expression remained ambiguous, I knew the routine all too well. There was a loud rip of applause, and I knew - within a moment's notice, as Father glared pointedly for my compliance - that the first candle had been lit. 

The boys, aligned to the front, circled to their seats, maneuvering among my peripheral vision. The ruckus had died down, and I slumped - only slightly, as to deter from a kind of beating - unto myself, lightly distracted by my heavy-lidded eyes. Oh, I scolded, how stupid I had been, to lie awake all night reading. 

Nolan began his speech, undoubtedly much the same as it always seemed to be, and I took a deliberately long moment to gaze upon the great array of teachers. It would seem, I noticed, with a harshly contained grin, that they were all particularly deathly looking. Perhaps, over the course of the summer, they had been returned to their graves, where their corpses lay to rest for the period of time - only to be dug up again as the school year returned. They seemed so withered, so pale - lifeless. Though I supposed it was particularly fitting, really; deathly teachers for a murderous school. 

“Gentlemen,” Nolan bellowed, “What are the four pillars?” 

Another sigh, I breathed, standing among the sonorous chorus of muffled shuffling. “Tradition, Honor, Discipline, Excellence.” We sang, a recital of the faculty’s pounding, and took our seats once more. 

His rambling continued, and I found myself physically incapable of paying it any mind - one would simply drift into a noticeable dream of slumber - as I drank in the sullen scowls of the boys reluctantly returning. I, myself, reciprocated a glance of hidden blue, and I knew that they simply loathed the man - Nolan - much the same as I. 

It was rather strange, really - the way in which my attendance to Hell-ton came about. For I was eleven: much the same nervous, wilted, and shelled child as the boys of the front row, and my application was riddled with lies. 

Name : Peter Joseph Darling, the first line read. Only, as I had continually pestered my Father upon, my name was Jane Elizabeth Darling, and my twin brother - Peter, you understand - should have been clothed within the uniform, instead. ‘He hasn’t the mind of you, Jane.’ Father had scoffed, mocking, as though I should have known better. Though I still didn’t understand. ‘Welton is an excellent opportunity, and they have accepted you, through the name of your brother.’ My misunderstanding, as I came to dislodge many a month later, were perfectly reasonable. Why was I, a girl, to attend an all boys boarding school, with the faux persona of my twin brother? It seemed strange, though - in my foolish naivety that youth would always bring - I found no reason to protest upon my Father’s wishes, and complied nonetheless. 

I was a late bloomer - much as my Mother had been, as old relatives would jest - and thus my identity was easily concealed - hair to be cut, in a similar style to the other little boys, and my figure hidden by the tatter of oversized suits. 

I became - rather unfortunately, on mine own behalf - one of the best students ever to attend Hell-ton. ‘Top grades,’ Father would boast - as though he had ever congratulated me, before - ‘our Jane is something truly spectacular. The top of every class, and a routine winner in almost every sporting category.’ Though what he said was true, it made it no less frustrating and mortifying, as he would babble on about my achievements, and leave no room for a word in edgeways. It seemed the only time he could bother to call, were if my report card had yet to arrive, or there was something - unexplained, you understand - for myself to receive the blame. 

‘Jane.’ He would bellow, tone furious over the line, ‘Your report card.’ He would then say, as though it were I who sent them off. ‘Where is it? It had better be here tomorrow, young Lady.’ 

Sometimes, I hated my Father, too. He made it frustratingly difficult not to - though, admittedly, I tried little to stop my fury. 

It seemed, however, that his plan were not entirely fool-proof. For when I did begin to develop breasts - as flat as they may be -, with little curves, and a more womanly figure, it was surely something noticeable. And my hair had grown out, over the months of neglect, and I allowed the soft blonde curls to have their way - and, suddenly, I looked far more a girl than ever before. 

My face, although chiselled by my petite weight, grew more round, less sharp - feminine. The rise of my cheekbones increased, and my eyelashes found a natural curve. Perhaps I could have considered myself pretty, if it weren’t for the insistent teasing Peter had enforced upon me. Thus, instead, I depicted myself ordinary, and decided to move on. 

Nolan, upon discovering my true identity - though how such a thing had gone unnoticed, before, I had no idea - riddled himself sick with rage. His expulsion threat was vengeful, and he loathed my Father’s guts. Such conflict had only truly occurred eighteen or so months before, and thus the tension seemed inevitably thick, whenever I found myself surrounded by the ever-depressing company of Nolan. I discovered a true beating upon Father’s account, for poorly concealing his awfully supported lies - ‘You cannot even pretend - not for a godforsaken moment - to be a boy,’ he had yelled, as I spat my blood upon the floor, ‘You shall learn to listen to me, Jane.’ And teach me to listen, he surely had. 

Fortunately, though I hardly see such as fortunate, at all, Nolan had - somewhat reluctantly, somewhat pretentiously - decided that my education be isolated, and my attendance a nuisance. My grades - my high, substantial, grades - seemed enough to access his persuasion; my lack of discussion and silent account another contributing factor; my sporting ability and lack of complaint a cherry on top for it all, as it should so seem. He found himself obliging to my continuation at Hell-ton, and I - perhaps expectedly - were undoubtedly disappointed. To leave such hellish faculty would be something joyous - greatly anticipated. Alas, there I was, sat - again - among the rows of morose expressions and pressuring parents. 

My dormitory, that year, was to be separated. Not a roommate, neither a shared bathroom - utter isolation. I minded not for the quiet, nor the lack of company, though it should seem the segregated seating within lesson perched a little too far, for my liking. It was rather ridiculous, I should have thought, that male brains were incapable of focusing upon the task at hand with a female sat to their left. Pathetic! Utterly, truly, pathetic. 

I had been branded a number of grilling rules - mandatory to abide by, you understand.

1. No perfume. 

2. Hair is to be kept up, tied tightly, and not disruptive. 

My hair, you see, was not a particularly easy tamer. Rampant blonde curlage, spilling from every direction. I could hardly control it on the better days, never mind every day. 

3. Skirts, or dresses, to be worn below the knee (if at all) and shoulders should remain contained at all times. 

4. No make up.

5. No fraternizing with other students. 

6. Meals are to be eaten alone, or not at all. 

7. Curfew is at 8:30PM. 

8. Toiletry business should be contained to a seperate bathroom, use the locker room provided - NOT the male students’. 

The list truly seemed to go on, and on, and it surely rambled for far too long - I had merely shared a glance with such paper, and thrown it to my bag in retaliation. Meals to be eaten alone? I had hardly the chance to converse between lessons - never mind during - and no longer could I discuss, nor listen in upon, with others among meals? It was true bullshit, for I knew such were never applied to me before - before they discovered my true identity. And the curfew - eight-thirty p.m - was utterly ridiculous. What was I to do for thirty minutes more, idle within my room, with not but a roommate to keep me company? The boys’ curfew was hardly nine p.m, anyhow - they were always allowed an extra number of minutes or so, and I knew - I hated it, but I knew - that I would have not but a choice to comply. 

To enjoy my stay, - at Hell-ton, you understand - seemed merely impossible - as a woman. Or, rather, to be known as a woman. For although its endeavours were painfully unbearable for the boys, it was all so much worse for I. The rules and regulations simply doubled in their length, and the eyes of concentration, inflicted by those of great authority, I found only to increase. Depressingly so. 

Oh, how I hated it all. 

“Jane,” Father hissed; a sharp jab to my side, and a smirking Peter. “Pay attention, would you?” He whispered, a furious glint to his icy blue glare. The roar of applause began to die down, and I found myself gathering my hands at the final few claps, settling within the silence once more. 

Nolan spoke again, his tone ever-droned, ever-dull. “As you know,” he said, chin tilted with a fauxly embodied confidence I hardly understood his deserving of, “our beloved Mr. Portius - of the English department - retired last term.” Mr Portius were nothing more than a rotting corpse with the political beliefs of all things dreadful. An awful man, truly. “You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement,” He said, turning something gradual - no doubt riddled with arthritis, and with marrowing bones - to meet the seat of the said replacement. “Mr. John Keating.” 

Keating  stood, and his stature was comfortably acceptable. He were of something small - noticeably shorter than the other corpses - and his expression dripped in kindness. His thin lips played a soft smile, and his eyes gazed tenderly - calculating, but gentle, nonetheless - upon the great array of prying students. 

“Himself an honours graduate of this school,” Nolan droned on. “And who, for the past several years, has been teaching at the highly regarded Chester School, in London.”

He was good, then, it seemed. The low rumble of shuffling rang among the hall, as students and parents, alike, maneuvered their gaze to fumble upon his position of casual confidence. Another, small, round of applause was to follow, and I - for perhaps the first time - voluntarily joined in. 

Keating took his seat, and the clapping drew to a close. 

“As I’m sure you are aware,” Nolan continued, addressing the audience with that monotonous death. “This year may seem a little different.” His gaze wandered, scrutinizing - harrowing - and settled upon I - upon Father, Peter, and I. I held his glare, cold and stubborn, for I would never have allowed myself to succumb to the fright in which he inflicted upon others. “This year, there is to be a girl in attendance.” 

A low hum of mumbles rang out, and the subtle gasps of distraught Mothers were something pathetically blatant. I found myself deeply suppressing the urge to scoff; I were a girl before, in the years of my previous attendance, thus what did it matter, now? 

“Miss Darling,” He bellowed, tone fit to carry among the greatest disturbance. A moment of nothingness graced the hall, as the murmurs of concerned Mothers, and outraged Fathers, simply rose in their volume. “Miss Darling.” Nolan echoed, his tone of something hauntingly venomous. A sigh slipped from upon my lips, and I rose to my feet with a glance of perfect nonchalance. 

Silence. 

The corner of my mouth found a quiver, for - Oh - were they all so frightened of me that they should hardly breathe?  The smirk was riddled with amusement, bloomed from the very  depth of my stomach, for their quiet hatred, and their burning silence, were all so wonderfully foolish. 

Nolan sneered, gaze writhing with gauging disgust - sewn by the tattle of hierarchy, and of misogyny. “Miss Darling is to accommodate her own - separate - housing,” he began, dislodging his stare and addressing his crowd. “There will be no contact between herself, and the boys. You needn’t worry for their concentration, Ladies and Gentlemen.” His wry smile was something sickening, as it danced upon his wrinkled lips. 

Die, I thought, die with your pathetic beliefs, and die a horrible death. 

~*~

The breeze of the fresh air seemed so close, so delicious, as we approached the ever-slow line, all smiles and polite passing greetings, yet so unfortunately far. I trailed after Father, step slow and gradual, certain his discussion would be tense, and it would be awful. “Mr. Nolan,” Father greeted, somewhat sheepishly, somewhat humorously. The old gargoyle glanced - unappreciative - to his nervously outstretched hand, shaking it with something of a pointedly stern glare. 

“Frank.” He nodded, tight-lipped and utterly infuriating. For although I held no sympathy for my Father, nor for the manner in which Nolan depicted respectable as he addressed him, the mere sight of his wrinkled person found my scowl something deep, something noticeable. 

“Wonderful ceremony, as always.” Father smiled. “And I must thank you for allowing my Jane into your school.” He said, as though it were not I who attended the years before.

“Yes, yes,” Nolan smiled, a ghostly thing, with a hollow foreground. “Well, I’m sure she is aware of the expectations, yes?” His stare fell upon myself, as I nodded silently, unable to erase the distaste within my gaze. “I will warn you, Miss Darling,” He continued, features to crease with that of an aggravated scowl. “Not to cross me. One wrong move,” He threatened, a wonky kind of finger held before me, “and you’re out.” 

One morning, I thought; one morning, you shall never wake up - and, oh, that morning will be such a blissful morning. 

Biting my tongue, I spoke with a faux sentiment, cheery toned and smiling kindly. “Of course, Sir.” I said. “I won’t let you down.” Fuck you, I wished to spit, though I simply turned upon my heel, and I stumbled away from his cautiously prying eyes, gripped by the harsh digits of Father’s stern hold.  

“You’ll see yourself to your room, I suspect.” Father said, tone withdrawn and utterly blank. Cold - Father, he was a cold man. My silence remained, though I nodded responsively, and allowed a solemn breath to slip the breach of my lips. The days, such melancholic tales, of summer - they were bad. They were awful - but at least they were not quite as lonely. A gentle sting graced the back of my eyes, and my jaw set achingly; an overwhelming urge to dispel my bitten tears a wave of unwanted suddenness. Wretched. For I did not want to be alone, I did not wish to be consumed by the ever-growing loneliness that life enforced upon me - I wished to be happy, free. Myself. 

Not Peter, not Miss Darling - Jane. Just Jane. 

I bit back the tears - I swallowed them whole, and I winced as they clawed upon my throat, cautious as to speak, for their wounds may crack in my tone, and damage my composure. But my smile, it was forced, and my eyes, they were glossy. “Do not disappoint me, Jane.” Father said. “I expect nothing but the best.” And with that, he was gone. 

Not but a mutter of goodbye; not but a touch of parental affection - nothing. The glaze upon my expression dropped slightly, a drooped frown to occupy my solemn features, and the smirk Peter threw over his shoulder -  barreled beside my Father, with his strides large, confident - merely seemed to ache the clench of my throat.

 God, my conscience spat, don’t be pathetic. 

And so, I balled my hands into fists, and I shoved them into my pockets; watched my Father leave, and I attempted to scrape together every time he told me he loved me. I came up with nothing - not but an utter of affection - and I remained true to my scowl, caught among the breeze, and the bustle of crying children, and loving parents. Perhaps I could have been jealous, as I glanced to the first years, embraced by the doting adoration of their guardians - though how could I force myself to envy a thing I had never known? 

The answer? I couldn’t. And so, I didn’t. 

I allowed my shoulders to sink, and I returned my gaze to the retreating vehicle - the vehicle that ached a certain - particularly ignored - part of myself. I wondered of Mother - a brief moment, though striking, nonetheless - and I pondered what she would be like. For - yes, - she was gone, and to think of such was simply barbaric, but a girl could dream. A girl could dream that she were loved, and that all of which could have been, would be so wonderful. Maybe if Mother were here, I thought, I wouldn’t feel so lonely. 

And, perhaps wishful thinking were foolish, and a dream unworthy of time - but it helped. It dulled the ache, though maybe only that little bit, and that were enough for me. 

The car was gone, lost among the mass of chaotic departure, and I found myself staring absently upon the horizon. How beautiful the sky did seem, I thought, and how well it masked destruction. 

My luggage had been dropped - previously - within my room, by Peter’s graceful volunteer. And, albeit reasonably, I were slightly fearful for the mess I would grow to discover, as I entered the living quarters - for I knew, and I knew it well, that Peter loathed me greatly, and he would do anything to tip me off. Perhaps that would be enough, I smiled, sadly, and to myself, to trigger the release of all things morose and bitterly withheld. 

Nevertheless, I found myself glumly retreating, making my way - pushed, knocked, and shoved, by bags, by luggage, and apologetic elbows - through the courtyard, and through the entrance of the school. My silence was something looming - it hung above my head, I could feel it - and it only seemed to darken with the realisation that this was reality, and that my stay would surely get no better. 

Oh, how I ached for something good - something nice, to carry me through my days. 

“Jane?” A familiar tone called, though I daren’t glance around for it’s owner. Silence. Silence. Silence - ‘tis your only company, I thought, know no better, feel no different. “Jane!” They called once more - Knox. I found myself sighing, for I knew I could not evade his greeting forever, and he was much too polite, much too kind, to simply ignore. “Hey,” He smiled, gentle and friendly. 

The scowl crumbled from my features, and I plastered on a joyous smile - teeth bared and glistening; believable. “Knox!” I chirped, allowing my expression to elope with a sense of delight. Our paths had crossed a number of times upon the past years, and thus a kind of acquaintance was to be formed. Nothing special, nothing particularly close, but he was a nice boy - a delightful chat. “How’s your summer?” I asked. 

“Great.” He sighed, grin riddled with a dream. “Busy,” he added, “but great.” 

My smile softened, “Oh, yeah?” I said, and he nodded subtly, smirk uneven and boyish - always boyish. 

“Yeah.” He sighed, again, before drawing his eyebrows to a loose pinch, “What about you, Darl’?” He asked, “Nobody heard from you all summer. Where’d you go for two months?” I shrugged something light - nowhere, I thought to admit, though what fell from my tongue was nothing but another lie. 

“I went home.” I said, “Back to England.” ‘Twas nothing of a home - not for me. 

I was beaten by my Father, and I was bullied by my brother - I was bed bound with the illness of my own crepent mind, and I found myself unable to answer the ringing phone, though I am awfully sorry for your inconvenience, Mr Overstreet - I shall be sure to spit my blood before I say ‘Hello’, yes? 

Of course, my thoughts remained thoughts, and my expression a blank nothingness behind my smile, behind my eyes. “That sounds wonderful.” He said, those dough brown orbs shining with a kind of genuineness - so honest, so true, I almost felt bad. “I bet it was nice, there, was it? Such beautiful scenery, and I bet the tea was good.” His smile was infectious, and I breathed a supple laugh. 

“The tea was perfect,” I said, “though the scenery - if we’re discussing the same London, here - was filled with nothing but Homelessness, and pollution.” 

“Oh,” He frowned, “that’s too bad.” 

Too bad? I thought; Too bad? Knoxie, my summer was horrifying. 

I shrugged gently, “It’s alright.” I said, “I’m used to it.” Though to which context I had attempted to console, I held little knowledge of. 

He smiled once more, “I’d only expect you to be.” He said, beginning to wander away; one step, two steps, three steps, four. His gaze fixed upon myself, he smiled - his eyes, they smiled - and he said:  “You comin’?” With a nod of nonchalant amusement. 

I raised an eyebrow, “Where to, Overstreet?” 

“Why, to the guys, of course.” He grinned. 

And by guys, I, fortunately, knew that he meant his friends: Neil Perry (the kind boy, of whom I shared a likeliness for terrible Fathers and passion for things they did not approve); Gerard Pitts (Pittsie, of whom was simply too tall for his own good - terrible at sport, though he surely tried his best); Richard Cameron (the ginger one, with a permanent foot rammed so far up his ass, it shall simply never be recovered); Steven Meeks (a blonde - with a tinge of red, as he had argued against last year - headed boy, riddled with curls - as was I - and the brains of something magnificent), and Charles Dalton (a typically chaotic and utterly unpredictable mess, with substantial grades, and a great yearn for women - not their love, you understand, but merely their attention - and a fascinating dedication to the saxophone). 

I had come to know them all - at a distance, though some a little more than others, as was Knox, and was Meeks - and thus found myself trailing comfortably behind the tall boy, his jacket swaying among the ruffle of his movement. 

The stairwell was something utterly cramped - a nauseating kind of warmth emitted from such, and I scowled bitterly through my ascent - our footsteps drowned among the chaos of rambling conversations, clatters of luggage - curses; groans; yells; cheers; animosity. Ah, the fresh stench of testosterone, and cologne. Expensive cologne - always expensive, always lathered. 

The crowd seemed mostly polite, peering me no mind and abiding about their business as though they held not a care in the world for the female presence - for such, I was grateful. I were far too exhausted to handle gawking boys - by the hundreds, mind you - with any ounce of grace. 

Knox held a relaxed pace, he leaned into it, as though persistently O.K, and unbothered by the great deal of shit in the word. I almost envied his carelessness, though found myself unable to ponder my digression any which further, for he paused, and then he bounded through the familiarity of the open doorway. A rush of excitement eloped within him, it seemed, as he threw himself to tackle - rather boyishly, rather fondly - a stumbling Charlie Dalton. 

The pair fell to the ground, a great thud among the ruckus, and erupted with a childish kind of laughter. I brushed my shoulder upon the doorframe, watching the scene unfold, as they lay - a little breathless, with their laughs drawn to silent breathing - and they smiled toothy, giddy, smiles. A sort of grin embraced my expression, and the moment played on. 

“Jesus, Knoxious.” Charlie breathed, the subtlety of a laugh to follow, “I’ve not seen you move like that since-” He paused, another laugh ripping from his throat, “Shit, not since little Ginny tried it with you, back in eighth grade!”

Knox let out a little snicker, “Don’t remind me.” He said, spoken with a slight shudder. The tickle of a laugh slipped from my lips, and the fluttered noise seemed to catch the attention of the red-faced boys. “Oh, yeah,” Knox mumbled, scrambling to his feet. Or, rather, attempting to - as the brunette beside him tugged to the collar of his coat, dragging him back to the ground with a great huff, and a startled yelp. 

Charlie stood, instead, and he smirked that classic Dalton smirk. One corner of his mouth found a higher rest that the other, perched comfortably with a flirted sense of amusement. “Miss Darling.” He said, and he offered a hand, “Welcome back.” I took his hand, a roll of my eyes, and shook it thoroughly. 

“Yeah, yeah, Dalton.” I scoffed, an eyebrow raised. “Quit the formalities, okay?” His smile feathered futherly full, genuine, and it seemed that the idea of loneliness grew that little bit more unbearable. For the guys - all of them, perhaps even the red-headed bastard - they could be such graciously wonderful company. And although I knew it were dangerous, and that I simply should not have wished it; I found myself often dreaming of a life - a different one, somewhere else, where things had changed, yet certain company was much the same - in which I had befriended them all - and, oh, how colourful life did seem! 

I longed, regularly, for their friendship - for the absence of my loneliness. But, as it should portray, life had other plans, and I had not but an ounce of energy to revoke against it. 

The warmth of Charlie’s palm, curled around my own, in a growing spirit of lightly peppered sweat and heated touch, found me retracting my grip, and glancing, wordlessly, to the boy upon the floor. He was sat up, no longer reclined, with his knees bent, and his arms to drape upon them. He smiled, and I reciprocated the gesture softly - softly, for it were all I could manage to plaster aloft my expression. 

“Hey, Charlie, I brought you some-” Meeks. I grinned, something wide, something wonderful, and I spun upon my heel. His eyes, they were bright, fixed largely behind the glint of his round glasses, a smile to his lips, and his hair was wild - curly as I, and graciously familiar. “Jane?” He said, a certain fondness about his tone. “When’d you get here?” He ushered, drawing me in for a tight, warming, embrace. Perhaps, throughout the list of their group, I found myself closest to Meeks. For he was witty, he was intelligent, and more of a brotherly figure than any twin I had ever known. I obliged comfortably, curled within his arms, as he withdrew, and he rested his grip upon the hunch of my shoulders. He smiled, “How was your summer?” And I simply knew for which I would have to lie - again. 

“It was fine.” I smiled. Accompanied with many-a-blue-day, and many nights of darkening contemplation. Riddled by the tangle of silence, with nothingness; raised voices, and bruising discipline. I had done nothing wrong. I had done nothing wrong. “It was great.” I said. 

He smiled kindly, that reassuring sense of Meeks I had needed during the bitter hue of summer’s company. “Good.” He said, releasing myself gently, and outstretching his grip. He turned to face Charlie, gentle in his smile, and spoke again: “I got you some more smokes, Dalton.” He grinned, “So you’ll stop moaning that we’re bummin’ ‘em.” 

The boy in question scoffed, “You do.” He said, a smirk nonetheless, as he shovelled the packet into his inner-blazer pocket. “I’d say you owe me a couple more, Meeksy.” 

“Take what you’re given.” He smirked, “Or you’ll get nothin’ at all.” 

He merely smiled, an eyebrow raised, and he spoke lightly, a bounce to his words. “You have a good vacation, Stevo?” He said, “You’re pale as ever.” 

“Always the joker.” Meeks offered, a mere mutter beneath his breath, “My summer was standard.” He shrugged lightly, “Studying, mostly. A little extra-reading, I suppose.” 

“Riveting.” Knox scoffed, a dizzy arrival to his feet. 

Charlie smirked, and he shook his head - wobbling slightly upon the draped arm of Knox’s weight. “So you’ll be smarter than last year?” He said, teasingly in his ways. Meeks’ response came witty, and it came fondly, though I paid it little mind, obtaining a subtle moment to study the features of the entangled pair before me. 

Knox was far taller than Charlie, it should seem, with his arm slung around the brunette’s shoulders, and his features somewhat softer. His eyes, though similarly brown and kind, were lighter - a brightened tinge, infused with sensitivity. Charlie held mischief, and he held youth, among the deep swirl of his stare; his smirk was crude and it were sharp, uneven, and unfortunately attractive. Charlie was unfortunately attractive. 

And, as I had hardly dared to notice, his smirk fluttered a widened stance, gaze shifting to meet that of mine own curious observation. An eyebrow raised, and he shot a wink to my stoic self - classically flirty, and ever the romantic - before grinning toothily, and rejoining the loose conversion between the other two boys. 

“The other three here, yet?” Charlie asked, nodding serupticially to the open wind of the door. 

Meeks shrugged something light, beginning to make his way - a saunter in his stride - to the opposing doorway, positioned directly before Dalton’s own. Charlie trailed suit, and I found myself obliging to the gentle push of Knox’s tender touch, as he guided my shoulders to cross the hallway, and he brushed his palms along the doorframe, gating us all in with a kind of casual amusement. I were pressed - rather tightly, mind you - between the heat of Charlie’s back, as he leaned upon the wooden frame, and Knox’s arm, held just above my head, as we peered on through. 

“Rumour has it,” Charlie grinned, pointing with mock accusement, to Neil - his sharp features conveyed by a gentle, tender smile. “You did summer school.” The boy glanced up, straightening his position. 

“Yep.” He breathed, “Chemistry.” And I felt undoubtedly sorry for him. “My Father thought I should get ahead.” There were a certain glaze - one I happened to notice, though not entirely potent - upon the mention of his Father, and I found mine own stare reciprocating a mixture of something kind, and something understanding. It should seem we had plenty in common - between our parents, and our inability to stand up against their trying discipline. Though perhaps Neil were not… Perhaps he were not physically harmed, as were I, it would do damage just the same. 

His smile was toothy, brotherly, as he approached. He shook the outstretched hand of Dalton’s own, and said: “How was your summer, Slick?” With a mischievous kind of glint.

“Keen.” Came the reply, drowned in all things sinfully scandalous and unspoken. 

The breath of a laugh slipped from Neil’s lips, a gentle shake of the head, and he retreated to his luggage, tossed carelessly upon his bed. Charlie followed, and I found myself trailing - helplessly - along. 

“Meeks,” Charlie called, over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, and a diligent grin, pointing to the boy with spoken commandment, “Door. Closed.” I smiled - beside myself, and frustratingly so - and Meeks spoke his reply. 

“Yes, Sir.” He said, and the dark oak swung to a tight close. 

Dalton took his seat upon the unmade, bare, mattress that was Neil’s single accommodation; Knox to rest backwards within the spare desk chair, withdrawn slightly from the weak table, and to the other side of the room, and Meeks assumed his position within the seat opposite Knox, facing outwardly at Neil’s desk. I stood, quietly, and I watched the room for the moment that passed, as everyone took their place. 

The back of someone unfamiliar greeted me, his hair a dirty blonde. He hunched over his luggage, fiddling with this, and with that, and remained submerged within his own silence, undisturbed - or so it seemed - by the rather rowdy crowd of newcomers. 

“Gentlemen,” Neil mocked, leaning gradually upon the dark radiator. “What are the four pillars?” 

“Travesty. Horror. Decadence. Excrement.”  They sang, a whispered quire of mocking upon the monstrosity Hell-ton dared to deem success. I grinned, despite myself, and took a seat upon the edge of the bed, slightly pushing the sharp edge of the leather-bound case. 

Charlie spoke, a cigarette hung from between his lips, “‘kay,” He muttered, withdrawing the stick from between his muffled speech, and producing a lighter, “Study group.” He said. “Meeks aced Latin,” No surprise there, I thought, “Jane’s just… Jane.” He grinned, to which I rolled my eyes. “She’ll have aced everything.” He swung his legs to rest upon my lap, unreasonably comfortable, and he lay - utterly sprawled out - upon the bed. His touch was warm, it was cozy, and thus I did not protest. “I didn’t quite flunk English,” He continued, “So, if you want, we got our study group.” 

He lit the cigarette, as a hum of agreement rang through the room. I remained true to my silence, for I knew I would simply not be allowed within such close proximity - neither to study, nor merely to talk. Pathetic, my conscience reminded, the misogyny were fucking pathetic. 

“Alright,” Neil shrugged, “You comin’, Jane?” He asked. I glanced up, and upon meeting such a gentle expression, I smiled. 

I spoke softly - I hated the way it sounded, but I said it nonetheless. “I can’t.” I sighed. “I got new rules, now, boys.” 

Charlie scoffed, and Neil’s gaze seemed to soften - sympathetic, understanding. “Forget the rules.” Charlie said, handing his cigarette to myself, as I took it between my middle and first. “You’re coming.” 

Through a breath of smoke, I scoffed, and I said: “I’ll be kicked out, Dalton.” 

He smirked that uneven smirk, with a shrug to accompany, “For studying? C’mon, Darl’.” He challenged, “That’s a lame excuse.” 

“I can’t.” I sighed, inhaling another deep breath of such chemical smoke, holding it within the depth of my throat - as the Dalton boy had taught me, back in eighth grade - and I exhaled tiresomely. I truly wished it could be simpler. I handed back the cigarette, and I focused myself upon Perry, as he smiled - something reassuring, and gentle.

“Well, Cameron asked, too.” Neil said, and a chorus of mumbled protests rang out - I found myself groaning something light, for the red-headed bastard were nothing but a stuck up prissy, and I liked nothing about him. “Anyone mind including him?” 

I could practically hear the silent ‘Yes’ of the boys’ disagreement, as they sighed once more, and they remained true to the quiet. “What’s his specialty, bootlicking?” Charlie scoffed, lighting his cigarette once more. 

“C’mon,” Neil tried. Always the kinder soul. “He’s your roommate.” 

Charlie let out a breathy laugh, “That’s not my fault.” he said. And I did feel a little sorry for him, at times, for - indeed - Richard Cameron was his roommate, and the pair got on like butter in a sock. 

In other words; they didn’t. 

I grinned, riddled with slight amusement, for I knew Charlie held a special kind of talent for pissing Cameron off. He - regularly, you understand - played his saxophone, at all hours of the night. Only loud enough to disturb Richard, of course, but it was persistently frustrating for the ginger lad, nonetheless. Charlie would often steal his clothing, amidst his showers, and force the poor boy to return to his room in nothing but a towel - all kinds of impractical things, that I, for one, found utterly hilarious, and the school board did not agree with. 

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Meeks spoke, “My name is Steven Meeks.” 

Glancing toward the newcomer, I smiled warmly, for he looked to be riddled with nerves, and shaken with anxiety. So fragile, did he seem. 

“Oh, this is Todd Anderson.” Neil introduced, spinning him around with a soft touch. He turned to face Meeks, a light blush dusting his cheeks, and he reached out - as though nervous, I had noticed - to shake his hand. 

Meeks shook it something small, “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, and let go of their grip.

“Nice to meet you.” Todd whispered, a tone so quiet, I almost missed it. He seemed polite, kind, and softly spoken. His lips quivered with an affable smile, docile and modest, and he shared a curt glance with I, a nervous nod to be sent. 

I spoke quietly, though not quite as quiet as he, and I smiled, “I’m Jane.” I said, “Jane Darling.” 

“Hello.” He mumbled, that faint dust of pinkish hue to elope his complexion once more. 

“Charlie Dalton.” Charlie said, far louder than perhaps necessary (though I supposed it were just him, and that was that) with an azure of confidence radiating between his smirk. The boy, - Todd - he glanced with a curtly reigned frown, turning away with not but a word. The breath of a laugh slipped from my lips - for Charlie, his chaotic, messy, self, could seem so intimidating, so utterly confident, upon first glance - and I smiled with great amusement. His foot nudged my stomach lightly, and, upon glancing to his expression, I noticed a mockery of annoyance, ruined by his grin. 

Another amused giggle fell from me, and I rolled my eyes - a natural reaction, you see - as I turned to meet the introduction of Knox. He leaned up, an awkward kind of crouch, over the back of the wooden chair, and shook Todd’s hand. “I’m Knox Overstreet.” He smiled, with a subtle nod to follow. 

Overstreet fell back to rest within his chair, and Neil spoke with earnestness, although lightly uninterested upon the topic. “Todd’s brother was Jeffery Anderson.” He said, taking ahold of the cigarette Charlie had offered. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Charlie said, as though the name dared to ring a bell. I knew not for this Jeffery, nor his brother, as he stood before us, scoping his luggage once again. “Valedictorian.” Charlie continued. “National merit scholar.” Oh, I thought, oh, it was that Anderson. 

Todd seemed to freeze slightly, his jaw drawn to a momentary clench, and I understood that such recognition were not of something unfamiliar to him. Meeks, his eyebrows raised, spoke with light teasing, “Ooh. Well,” he said, “Welcome to Hell-ton.” 

A silent, shy, laugh reciprocated the boy’s reply, as Charlie - once more - made the pass of another loud statement. “It’s every bit as tough as they say,” he said, a tone of nonchalance to occupy. “Unless you’re Jane. She’s…” He trailed, a ribbing grin, “Well, like I said; she’s just Jane. A genius, like Meeks.” 

I scoffed, swatting the boney shin of his leg, as he smirked something proud, and shot me a wink. “He excels in flattery, Todd,” I said, “Don’t mind him.” 

Meeks snickered, “Yeah,” he agreed, “That’s why I help him with Latin.” 

“And English,” I added, a mere mutter beneath my breath. 

“And Trig,” Charlie coughed, another light kick to my stomach, with that same teasing glint to those deep, chocolate, eyes. He had taken back the cigarette, inhaling a rather deep toke upon the stick, before offering it to myself. I took it, gulping in the toxins with a sense of normality, as I leaned myself back upon the edge of the luggage. 

A subtly sounded knock erupted from the opposing side of the wooden door, and I - reasonably so - found myself lightly panicking for the stick of illegal measures, wrapped within my fingers. I glanced to Charlie, a furrow upon my brows, and he took hold of the cigarette, maneuvering himself to extinguish the final few tokes of the lit thing. Neil, Charlie, and I, made an attempt to waft the smoke away; our hands batting the air somewhat foolishly. It would still smell, I thought, but I waved my hands anyway. 

“It’s open,” Neil called, as Charlie rose to his feet, the corpse of the hidden cigarette perched beneath his shiny shoe. 

The door opened, and an older man strode - masked by a great sense of authority - within the complex. “Father,” Neil all but spluttered, risen to a wobbly stand, “I thought you’d gone.” His gaze, it faltered, and a shine of something fearful riddled among his widened eyes. Mr Perry seemed stern, the kind of man whom found small talk to be his only communication, unless condescending, or belittling, and I didn’t quite like that. 

“Mr Perry - Sir.” the boys each greeted, rising to a respectful stand, among the thickening tension within the air. I remained perched upon the bed, merely smiling something small. 

The man nodded politely, tight lipped, with a grin of something powerful, and I found myself disliking the blankness behind his gaze, behind his eyes. “Keep your seats, fella’s,” He said, “keep your seats.” And so they did - Meeks, Knox, and Charlie, returning to their assigned seats, each somewhat displeased by the presence of the elder man. He glanced to myself, smile tightening distastefully, as mine only seemed to brighten - often, I enjoyed the act of making men squirm. “Miss Darling,” He said, a light bite to his tone, “I hope you are well.” 

“Very well, thank you, Mr Perry.” I replied, somewhat nonchalantly, somewhat bemusedly. 

“Good.” He said, gaze to flutter upon my frame - scrutinizing, with a sense of uncomfortability. My smile, it fell to a smirk, for I found great fondness among his displeasure. “Neil,” He continued, attention returning once more to his son, of whom stood, nervously, with a furrow in his brows. “I’ve just spoken to Mr Nolan.” He said, “I think that you’re taking too many extracurricular activities this semester, and I’ve decided that you should drop the school annual.” 

I shifted my gaze, prominent with a frown, to meet the angered stare of Charlie, who merely sighed, a shake to his head. ‘Is he serious?’ I mouthed, somewhat silent among my breathing. The boy shrugged, nodding slightly in response. Unfortunately, his glare seemed to utter, and I found my scowl deepening. “But I’m the assistant editor, this year.” Neil attempted to reason, a glaze of solemn hurt, so potent, upon his features. 

Mr Perry, a glance of perfect nonchalance, said: “Well, I’m sorry, Neil.” With not but a flicker of apathy. No, I thought, you’re not. 

Neil tried again, “But - Father - I can’t! It wouldn’t be fair-” 

“Fella’s,” Mr Perry interjected, a great wash of impatience to succumb to his expression, “Would you excuse us for a moment?” 

There were a sudden gloom that hung about the air, thicker than the smoke that fell from our throats, as we smoked our cigarettes, and basked in the little freedom we could. Neil glanced, a sheepish kind of look, from his left, to his right - to nothing in particular, I could only assume - and the gentle thud of his Father’s footsteps were to be the only disrupance. I dared to spare another sharp exchange with Charlie, his jaw set, teeth clenched. He watched, deep orbs conflicted with a burning - obvious - distaste, as Mr Perry paused at the doorway, and Neil stuttered in his walk. 

The boy left, and the smile his Father gave - perhaps something of reassurance, though I paid it no mind - were of nothing partially kind; tight, and thin-lipped. Charlie did not smile back, he glared, though something slightly softer, and awaited the retreat of Mr Perry’s moving figure. 

A breath of silence dared to pass, and I wondered - perhaps selfishly, perhaps ignorantly - if this were how it felt to be a witness, and not a receiver. For I had never known the way it felt, to listen in upon hushed whispers of angered disputes, and the stumbled reply of someone ferociously terrified. It were usually I, whom stuttered my response, and cried silent tears, as the strike of powerful palms caressed the worn complexion of my cheek. Often, it stung. Though each time, less than the rest. 

I found myself tracing the flush of my cheek - absentmindedly, you understand - with a gaze fallen to the floor. For although I were certainly glad that the bruises had healed, and the scabs didn’t leave scars, my conscience often recalled such moments, of inner battles, and of physical aches, upon the most wretched of times. 

The summer was dreadful - as it had always seemed to be - and I held no doubt that the next break - Winter, I supposed - would be much the same. I dreaded it all, just as well. For who was I to defy the mighty hand of a man who’d taught me nothing but pain? I knew not how to love, but to hate - Oh, I could hate with great excellence. 

“That guy’s a real jerk-off.” Charlie sighed, a mumble beneath his breath. 

I smiled something small, saddened, “Yeah,” I said, “I wouldn’t invite him to tea, that’s for sure.” 

He snorted, a toothy grin to follow, “Give it to him cold.” he suggested, leaning back among the pillows once more, his legs dangling - an awkward angle, surely - up off the side of the mattress. “Or leave some mushed up cookies at the bottom.” He had a nice smile, I cared to notice; bright, straight, teeth, with a perfectly even set - he looked, silly as it may seem, rather pretty, when he smiled. A true smile, however, not a smirk. His smirk were mischievous - older - and his smile withheld the youth he often projected. 

“Too hot, maybe - burn his tongue.” I shrugged. “Though I’m doubtful he’d ever return my invite.” 

“No,” Charlie sighed, “No, he wouldn’t.” 

“It’s a shame, really,” I said, turning back to gaze upon the floor, a breath of faux despair dissolving upon my tongue, and I smiled. “I make a wonderful tea.” 

“More of a liquor kinda guy, really.” He muttered, a shrug of faint amusement. “Or a Hot Chocolate.” He added, a moment of nothingness to follow, “Wouldn’t be Christmas without one, y’know?” 

My grin merely heightened, for I knew the feeling all too well, and I nodded. “Of course.” I said, returning my gaze to lock with his bemused glint. “As long as you don’t make them with milk.” 

He frowned, scoffed, and spoke with a tone of great offence. “How else am I supposed to make it?” 

“With water!” I scoffed. Buffoon, I thought, and a disgusting one at that. To make his hot chocolate with milk - the audacity of the boy. “Hot water.” I then said, glancing to his scrunched expression - assuming that I, myself, withheld disgust much the same. “How’d you even heat up the milk?” I asked, another scrunch of distaste to follow. 

“Jesus fuck,” He breathed, “The same way you heat up water?” He said, an incredulous kind of tone to pepper his words. His eyes widened, a placid glaze of disbelief to flutter his features, and I merely shook my head. Oh, he seemed so pretty - and, now, all was ruined. 

“Disgraceful.” I muttered. 

“Me?” He mocked, “You’re the weirdo that likes hot-water-chocolate!” 

“You make it sound like a bad thing!” I defended. 

“It is a bad thing! A damn shame, too.” He scoffed, a roll of his eyes, “I was just beginning to like you.” His smirk came sly and it came teasing, and I found myself unable to withhold my own, the slip of a gentle giggle to fall along with it. 

“Only just?” I jeered, a fond kind of smile, “Well, shit, I better step up my game.” 

Charlie shot me a wink - again - and swung to his feet, standing with a sudden wobble, as he said: “I’d say the same for myself, but my game is simply…” He paused, he grinned, “Perfect.” He said. I scoffed, rolling my eyes; for yes, he was a flirt  - potentially the biggest flirt I had ever come to know, at that - but there was nothing perfect about him. Well, nothing but that smile, of course. 

“Yeah, alright, Dalton.” I said, the ascent to my feet something clumsy - as always, it should so seem - and I stumbled a few steps, bashing my shoulder upon the chest of the boy, himself. He let out a breathy grunt, clasping me - far gentler than I supposed I had expected - at my elbow, for I jerked myself away, and I found my footing solely. A natural reaction, I thought to reason, and I pretended not to notice the brief flash of concern, as it washed across his face. “We should check on Neil.” I mumbled, tone far quieter than I should have liked - addressing the silence of the other three boys. 

Todd glanced, - nervously, I noticed - with a quick kind of look, though returned to his luggage - a bag with nothing left to unpack - as though he were too busy to follow. Meeks merely nodded, Knox rising quietly from his position, and we wandered through the open doorway. 

Charlie, the first to step out, leaned upon the cream wall, smug with his uneven, classic, smirk. I found myself positioned ever-slightly behind him, shoulder rested against the back of his arm, and Knox stood, hands in his pockets, to the right of I. Neil stared forward, jaw set, though soft - as he always seemed to be - and he dropped back against the wall, his head bouncing lightly upon such contact. 

I frowned, silent within my thoughts, for although I wished to speak upon my concerns, I knew such would simply do nothing to help. “Why doesn’t he let you do what you want?” Charlie asked, brazen as ever. 

Helpful, Dalton, I scoffed, internally, real helpful. 

Neil turned to face us, an eyebrow raised, and his silence surely telling. “Yeah, Neil,” Knox added, a light tone of confidence to ooze between his words, “tell him off.” 

My eyes rolled gravely, the comment slipping from upon my tongue before I caught the chance to reel it in. “God,” I sighed, “That’s a terrible idea.” I muttered, a shake to my head, “Don’t listen to them, Neil.” 

Knox frowned, a glance of conflict to contort his handsome features, and he said: “Why? It couldn’t get any worse.” Oh, you fool, I thought - it could get so much worse. Of course it could. 

“You don’t know that.” I said, a little too sharp for my liking. I softened my tone, “It’s best to just take it - take it ‘til you’re free.” I glanced once to Neil, his eyes fluttered shut, and I added - quietly, with a gentle stare. “Not long, now.” 

There were a great beat of silence, a shake to his head, and the brunette returned his attention to the cream paint of the opposing wall, tone tender, tired. “Ten years is a lifetime.” He all but whispered, the slip of a crack to differentiate his tone. Something within my chest ached - a gentle squeeze, and my expression fell to a sympathetic furrow. 

“No, Neil,” I said, a smile of something reassuring flashed his way, “you’ve the rest of your life to enjoy, to feel free. Ten years? Ten years is nothing.” 

“It’s forever.” He mumbled, “I’ll be trapped forever.” 

Knox shrugged smally, “It’s your life, Neil. Your future. You do with it what you want, that’s the way it goes.”

A mocking, bitterly tasted, laugh fell from the boy’s tongue, his eyebrows raised; fixture of disbelief. “Oh, that’s rich!” He scoffed, and my chest ached once more, throbbing slightly, for the weight of things all too familiar. I had witnessed this scene many-a-time before - only I were Neil, and Neil were I. “Like you guy’s defy your parents?” He continued, a hint of frustration to lick upon his tone, “Mr Future Lawyer, and Mr Future Banker.” 

Charlie, another smug smirk slapped across his expression, said, with the breath of a laugh; “Okay, so I don’t like it any more than you do.” 

Neil sighed, falling back to rest his head against the wall. “Well- Just don’t tell me how to talk to my Father.” He said, a trailed gaze to meet us all, “You guys are the same way.” And surely right he was. To defy was - to put it rather dramatically, though not entirely impossible - to die. 

Knox let out a breathy, “Alright, alright, Jesus.” and Neil retracted his gaze, a glum grin to be shot my way. “So what are you gonna do, then?” He muttered, soft eyes laced with a thinly dispersed concern. 

He fluttered his eyes shut, once more, and sighed. “What I have to do,” he mumbled, “Drop the annual.” I frowned a little, unable to miss the thick layer of sadness, as it wove between his features. 

“Well,” Charlie began, “I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it.” 

I let out a breath, “Yeah,” I said, “It’s just a bunch of jerks trying to impress Nolan.” 

His laugh rang fake, and it fell from his lips with great force - I practically winced. “I don’t care.” He lied. “I don’t give a damn about any of it.” But oh, of all the blindest men - anyone could read his mistruth. 

There was a beat of silence, and I found myself reaching out, and placing a softly positioned hand upon the sleeve of his blazer, a curt squeeze of support - of companionship. “Well, uh,” Meeks stuttered, his breath a little warm upon the back of my neck. I flinched, be it only slight, from the sudden sensation, and bumped - once more, curse my soul - unto the frame of the Dalton boy himself. He merely raised an eyebrow, hand instinctively brushing upon my upper back, a stroke of miraculous comfort. I smiled, sheepishly, might I admit, and attempted to ignore the circular trail of his fingers upon the blazer, warped between my shoulder blades. “Latin?” Meeks offered, “Eight o’clock, tomorrow?” 

A round of agreement followed around - Neil expressing the loudest, as he passed between Knox and I, and made his way through the doorway of his room. 

“Todd,” The boy glanced up, fiddling with a small clock, and Meeks smiled, “You’re welcome to join us.” He offered, as Knox chimed in. 

“Yeah,” He said, “Come along, Pal.” 

Todd nodded, another shy movement, and he muttered a quiet: “Thanks.” And nothing more.

A breath left my lips, as the four remaining students - Meeks, Knox, Charlie, and I - turned away from the slowly closing door. I sighed, for I dreaded the condition to which Peter had left behind, upon his trail of Knightly destruction, and I wondered just what he had ruined, in the longer-than-necessary time he took, upon delivering mine own luggage to my dorm. “I’m gonna head back to my room.” I muttered, “Unpack, and all that.” 

I dared to notice the hand, rested - still - between my shoulder blades, as Charlie spoke, softer than he had all day. “Sure.” He mumbled, “Know how to get there from here?” I merely nodded, for I did; it were up the stairs, the first right upon landing, and five doors to the left. 

“See you in class, Jane,” Meeks smiled, a small wave to follow. I reciprocated, breathed a laugh. 

“Yeah, and don’t forget - you’re coming to that study group.” Charlie grinned, a subtle wink, as he patted my back - thrice, upon counting - and I began to wander the trek within the distilled hallway. Their echoing footsteps, retreating to their own rooms, I could merely assume, drowned to something of a silent aubade, as I ascended the stairs, my shoes tapping gently upon the polished wood. 

Perhaps, I thought, as I entered my hallway, and I strode to the oak of my door, this year could be better. Maybe it would be good, and not just fine. Shrug-worthy, would be a legible descriptive of past years - nothing but bland yearning, a great longing for freedom. Something tingled, deep within my bones, and I wondered if perhaps this year - maybe, just maybe - I would find it. The freedom, that is. 

It sounded so wonderful, looked so serene. I discovered myself longing for it, all over again. And, as I swung open the wooden panel, a large kind of smirk tattled upon my teeth, I decided that I would do everything I could to achieve it. I swerved, among the piles of strewn clothing, of broken picture frames, and of smashed bottles - of perfume, might I add, despite their forbiddency - and I sat upon the naked, unmade bed, smiling. I cared not for the mess, the disgusting and blatant, disrespect, in which my brother had inflicted upon the scene - for I, Jane Elizabeth Darling, grew warm; warm with a sense of fulfilling passion. 

This year would be different, I thought to myself; this year would be free. No longer was I Miss Darling, nor Peter - with a more feminine touch - Neither a future trophy wife, or a distraction amongst men - No. No, that year - beginning then, for if not then, when? - I was Jane. A bright, witty, independent, girl, with not but a man to influence her, and rag her around. 

“I am Jane.” I said, and I liked the way it tasted. 

[kunderdogs]

Take A Chance VII

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Y/N (Reader) Genre: Romance / Angst Count: I didn’t count lol sorry Warnings: None Rating: Mature (suggestive, swearing) Summary: Who would’ve thought a one night stand with Simon D would turn into FWB? It only gets more complicated when you developed feelings, against your better judgement.

This gif of Simon D is one of my favs. Pls don’t hate me for the ending. :) Two more chapters left! 

Had to post this early because I got called into work today.

Chapter One. | Chapter Two. | Chapter Three. | Chapter Four. | Chapter Five. | Chapter Six. | Chapter Seven.

Driving around aimlessly at 9AM was not how you pictured the start of your weekend to go. Then again, you could’ve never imagined Simon would stroll up to your place, drunk as hell and picking fights with you in the middle of the night either. For now, you felt your nerves settle as you drove around the town. You figured you could drive around and get some fresh air. Anything to get your mind off of your intruding thoughts. 

Being in that house with Kiseok just felt so suffocating.

You were cruising through some of the residential neighborhoods when you noticed you were close by Nicky’s house. You smiled and pulled on the side of the street, immediately grabbing your phone and dialing her number. She picked up at the last minute, groaning and complaining of a hangover, before launching into retelling you all of the drama from last night.

“So what do you want to eat? I’ll pick something up for you.” You connected the call to your car before pulling off the street. 

Nicky yawned a bit, “Eh, don’t worry about it. Wouldn’t want you to come all the way over here just to get me breakfast.”

“I’m in your neighborhood anyway so just tell me what you’re in the mood for. Cinnamon rolls? French fries?”

“Why are you in my neck of the woods at,” she paused on the other end, most likely to pull the phone back to check the time. “9:27AM? Couldn’t sleep?”

You sighed a little louder than you intended to, “You could say that. Since you won’t tell me what you want, I’ll surprise you.”

She hummed in agreement, “Don’t forget the OJ! Thank you, love. See in you in bit.”

Saying your goodbyes, it didn’t take long to get to a small cafe about ten minutes from Nicky’s apartment. It was early enough that there wasn’t much customers so you were happy to be in and out of there within a few minutes.

Upon arrival at Nicky’s place, you found her sprawled out on the couch, clothes from last night wrinkled but still in place. Her makeup was wiped off and smeared onto makeup wipes that were on the coffee table. You laughed to yourself, nudging her with your foot when you got closer. She was such a beautiful disaster.

“You look like you’re barely hanging on over here,” you teased, putting the food down on the coffee table before cleaning up the makeup wipes.

Nicky mumbled something in the pillow and reached blindly for the food. “So what’s bothering you, hm?” Her voice followed you into the kitchen.

Washing your hands in the sink, your mind worked to find the right words but they got stuck in your throat. Everything was still so confusing to you.

Yes, you had deep feelings for Kiseok but the reality was that you couldn’t be together.

It was just cruel of your mind to even picture him involved with you in the way you wanted him to be.

Part of you was relieved that you ended it but the other, much larger part, almost immediately regretted it. That part of you wanted to run back into his arms and confess your feelings to him right at this second.

You didn’t realize how loud you sighed until a cold hand wrapped around your wrist. Nicky pulled you to the living room, and began searching for a movie while you got comfortable on the couch

“Does it have anything to do with Lover Boy?” She guessed, eyeing your downcast mood. When you pouted without answering her, she plopped next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

Nicky always wanted to talk about her problems, which you were completely willing to listen to but when it came to you sharing...It was a little more difficult for you to open up. She was never offended or put off when you didn’t want to talk about your feelings but she was definitely surprised when you nodded.

As Iron Man played in the background, you spilled everything that happened last night. Her sky-colored eyes grew in size as you vented about everything that was said yet she didn’t interrupt you once. By the time you were done, you took a moment to catch your breath and her mouth was hanging open in shock.

“Dear lord, I leave you alone for two seconds and all this happens huh,” she teased, causing a smile to crack on your lips.

Taking a bite of her food, Nicky thought about what she wanted to say before looking at you fully, “So, are you going to tell him or leave it at that?”

Looking to the hanging TV, you sunk back into the couch. What good would come out of you telling Kiseok your feelings for him? Other than getting it off your chest, it would change nothing. If anything, it may even ruin your chances of being friends with him in the future.

If you couldn’t be with Kiseok romantically, you still wanted to be friends. He was always there to listen to you and give you advice, even make you smile when you were stressed or having a bad day. Above all else, you enjoyed his company, even when you two just sat and did absolutely nothing.

You huffed when you noticed Nicky was still waiting for an answer, “There’s nothing more for me to say. I feel like I’ve said all I had to...”

She snorted, “You didn’t say anything of importance. You should go back to your place and talk it out with him.”

“What good would come from that?” You dismissed.

She shrugged, “Maybe he feels the same way. Close mouths don’t get fed.”

The orange juice you were drinking almost came back up through your nose as you snorted. “Yeah, right. If Simon even had an ounce of feelings for me, he wouldn’t be out with that other chick.”

Nicky couldn’t really argue with that point and shook her head, “You know how men are. They don’t realize their feelings until it slaps them in the face. From what you tell me, Simon D is the type of guy to not recognize it right away.”

Sighing again, you felt the tension in your shoulders. “I’ll figure it out later. I just want to rest for a bit. All this is so emotionally draining.”

With an understanding smile, a foot suddenly kicked into your side, forcing you to lay down on the couch. You glared playfully at your best friend while she tossed a throw blanket over your lower half.

“Take a nap. I’m going to shower. Gotta wash away all the bad decisions I made last night.”

Without further ado, Nicky skipped off to her bathroom, your laughter following her down the hallway.

Usually, you had a hard time falling asleep now that Cookie wasn’t with you, but something about Nicky’s apartment was so cozy that you were out like a light in under five minutes of laying down. It was probably because her couch was just so warm and comfortable.

Either way, you woke up hours later to another Avengers movie playing and Nicky eating brownies at the other end of the couch. You checked your phone to see if Cookie had called or texted, but they were at a water park today so you weren’t expecting a call until they got home, which would be late at night for them. It made you a little sad to not talk to your mini all day but you were glad she was having a good time with your ex’s family.

Sleepy eyes glanced at the time on your phone. “Shit. It’s already 1:30? How long was I out?”

“Since like 10, dude. You must’ve been dead tired.”

Yawning, you sat up and snuggled the blanket into you again. “Still am. I think I’m gonna head home and go to sleep in my own bed though.”

“Are you saying my couch isn’t an acceptable bed?” She teased, knowing damn well you loved her couch more than your own.

“I will steal this one day and replace it with mine.”

“Sure. Text me when you get home. Drive safe! Woah- HEY! Leave the cinnamon rolls!”

The drive back to your house was uneventful. Oddly enough, there was hardly any traffic out which was a bit odd for a weekend, but you thought nothing of it.The once blue sky was now gray with even darker clouds hanging low. It felt like the calm before the storm. 

You were in no rush to get home, and the feeling only amplified when you pulled up to your apartment and noticed Kiseok’s car still parked in the guest parking.

Sighing, you dragged your feet up to your place and as soon as you were getting off the elevator on your floor, your phone rang. A wide smile broke out on your lips.

“Hi, sweetie! I was waiting for you to call me!” You answered, leaning over the rail that over looked the courtyard garden. “Oh yeah? How was the water park?”

A few minutes into your conversation, you were so engrossed with listening to her ramble about her favorite rides, that you didn’t notice the opening or closing of a door down the hall. Heavy footsteps came closer to you, but you paid it no mind. Other than yourself, there was two other families that lived on this floor so it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“Mommy missed you too. Your daddy being nice to you?” You laughed when you heard a huff on the other side of the phone. “No, I didn’t have dinner yet. I’ll have some later- oh, okay. Tell your grandmother I said hi, okay?”

The sound of someone clearing their throat alerted you to the body leaning on the rail a few feet from you.

Jung Kiseok, still in his clothes from last night, peered down at the garden beneath you two. When he noticed your attention on him, he glanced to you. “Can we talk?”

Jesus, he literally came out of nowhere! Noticing your jaw hanging slightly, you swallowed before agreeing with your daughter. “Yes, baby, it’s okay. Go shower and go to sleep. Thank you for calling me. I love you. Goodnight...”

The ending dial tone sounded much too loud for your ears as the silence in the hallway was almost suffocating. It was quiet for sometime, since the two of you didn’t say anything. Kiseok was trying to find the words to say, and you had too much you didn’t want to uncover.

This conversation was inevitable but you still wanted to avoid it. The lump in your throat only grew when he sighed deeply. It seemed like he was about to say something, until the elevators opened and two small blurs sprinted out. “I-”

The Choi twins were your neighbor’s kids and it was only another two seconds before you saw their mother chase after them. You giggled after them, those two were always giving their mother a hard time.

“Sorry about that,” A deep voice apologized. You nodded to the twin’s father, who was holding a tiny baby wrapped in blankets to keep him warm.

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a smile but didn’t miss the double take he did to your company.

“Maybe we should go inside?” Kiseok pushed off from the rail and waved slightly to a wide-eyed Mr. Choi.

You took the advice without a word, leading the way to your front door though he would’ve had no problem finding it himself. Once inside, you kicked your sandals off and dropped your purse on the entry table.

The door shut tightly behind him, entrapping the both of you in a thick silence that didn’t go unnoticed. You sunk into the couch, giving him enough room to sit near you without touching you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it surely wasn’t that. Could you really be surprised though? Suspecting what he was asking, you had to make sure you two were on the same page.

“Tell you about what?”

Tired dark eyes stared you down, “Let’s not go back and forth. I know you have a daughter and I’m not sure what kind of problems you and your husband have, but cheating is never the way to go about it.”

You tried to stop the loud laughter that spilled out of you, but that was so far from what you thought he would say. You honestly couldn’t help it, and soon, you had tears in your eyes as you were literally rolling around the couching laughing.

Kiseok did not look amused in the slightest - his lips thinned into a hard line, brows frowned to display his seriousness of the topic. “This really isn’t something to laugh about. I refuse to be some kind of homewrecker.”

You had finally got your giggles under control when he said that, launching you into another fit of laughter. “What! You think-?! Oh my god, I haven’t laughed like that in a while,” you giggled, wiping the spilling tears from your eyes.

Feeling his glare, you sat up and took a breath. The tension was a bit less in the room. “I’m not married.”

He didn’t believe you. “You have family pictures-”

“In my daughter’s room, yes.”

He dismissed your interruption, “I saw that man at the airport when you ran into Jay Park. He hugged you and you were crying.”

You paused, blinking slowly. How did he see that? “How do you know that?”

The way he sighed with finality made you feel a bit defensive. “Jay was FaceTiming me and Loco. The main point of this is I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever you have with your husband.”

Eyes rolling, you crossed your arms under your chest. “Stop saying that. I’m not married.”

“Why are you lying? You have a child with him.” The tone of his voice raised slightly but you frowned at him.

“You can make a kid without being married to someone. Me and my daughter’s father aren’t together. I’m no cheater. Unlike you, I don’t have a list of hoes I can run to.” The words left your mouth but you regretted it immediately. Your personality didn’t allow you to apologize or take it back, especially with how heated you were becoming.

Sitting less than a foot away from you, Kiseok couldn’t really argue with that. You were right. He called Nayoung because she didn’t care for a relationship and he had wanted to...hurt you the same way he had been hurt after seeing you in the arms of another man.

It was childish of him, he’ll admit it, but it happened. He was only human and he had acted on his emotions. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. Once you brushed past him at the restaurant with tears in your eyes, he had felt sick to his stomach about the whole thing. It wasn’t like he knew you would be there that night, it was honestly a terrible coincidence. After that night, he couldn’t even look Nayoung in the eyes without seeing your heartbroken expression.

Prideful at heart, Kiseok still felt the need to defend himself even if it was a weak defense, “I don’t have a list of hoes. That was me being an idiot.”

“Whatever, Kiseok. I don’t care anymore.” Calling him without an honorific gave you a sinking feeling in your stomach but you looked away from him. “What more do you want from me?”

With that, he faced you fully, “Everything. I want to know everything, about your daughter, your past, the truth about all of it.”

Startled, you faced him with doubt clouding your face. “Why? Why does any of that matter to you? Why do you even care?”

For the first time today, you saw Kiseok smile. Not a smirk, or half grin that he liked to flash you when he teased you, but a real smile with his teeth showing. Looking closer, he also was a little rosy in the cheeks a bit. “I-Well...I thought it was obvious now, but you’re really dense.”

You thought you knew where this was going so you sighed, “Look, I’m not a charity case, okay? I can-”

“I really like you, ___. Not just in a sexual way either. I like you on an emotional level...I really, really like you,” he confessed in a rush, sounding just like you felt at the moment - breathless.

And then your heart started to ache.

“Kiseok...we can’t...we can’t be together.”