#but it starts the 'everyone is in love' tomfoolery

[respectthepetty]

Jack and Hope are fighting next episode!

The shirts they are wearing in the trailer when they start boxing:

Are the same ones they are wearing in the episode four preview:

Which probably means Hope is convinced that Jack let Joke go, and Jack is going to stop Hope from going inside to see if Joke is hiding there with the necklace!

And this probably means Joke is spending the night next episode too since Jack is bruised up in the trailer (from the fight with Hope!).

And it would make sense that Joke says this after Jack gets hurt fighting Hope to protect him.

And it's why Jack would go stand outside to get his thoughts in order since he is already falling back in love!

But this also means that Hope won't let it go, which increases the likelihood of Hope running into Save while lurking around Jack's place which means Aran is going to figure out Tattoo is involved because if Hope knows Jack knows Joke and Joke knows Tattoo then Aran knows who took the necklace . . .

AND MY SHIPS ARE SAILING!

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - prologue

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Your mom called you a late bloomer, and even though you always hated the way she said it, so full of pity and condescension, you couldn’t argue that she was wrong. You were a late bloomer, physically and socially. Your whole childhood and into your teen years, you were painfully insecure, so you tended to hide and shy away from situations that would stretch your comfort zone. You had a good childhood growing up on the ritzy side of the island. But nothing ever felt…complete. You always had this nagging feeling that something was missing, or rather, that you were missing something.

Your older sister, Carter, was the exact opposite of you. She knew who she was from the day she could walk. She developed physically years before you did, even though she was only 18-months your senior. In school, Carter was one grade ahead of you. Everyone knew her, and everyone loved her. She played sports, won class president four years in a row, and was the obsession of every boy in every grade. She was the best known girl on the island, and you were best known as Carter’s sister.

All of these things should’ve been reasons for you to resent her, for the two of you to compete and grow a bitter rivalry, but you were best friends from the start. Carter never made you feel left out or left behind, folding you into her friend group from the time you were kids.

Your mom didn’t have to force Carter to invite you to hang out with her friends, it was always Carter’s idea, dragging you to parties and begging you to keep her company, even though you knew she didn’t need it. She would encourage you to put yourself out there, to leave your books at home and jump in on the fun, assuring you that everyone wanted you around just as much as she did. Carter always saw something in you that you didn’t see in yourself.

From middle school on, Carter casually dated just about every guy in your friend group - Topper, Kelce, several others. She never committed, and they were all fine with having her for just a little bit. There was only one boy she never gave the time of day. The one that she knew was off limits, without you ever really having to tell her, it was just understood.

You had been in love with Rafe Cameron since the moment you first saw him. He was a year above you, in Carter’s grade, and his family lived down the road from yours. You met him on the school bus your first day of kindergarten. 

You were so nervous, your mouth going dry as all the kids on the bus looked at you with judging eyes, but Carter just grabbed your hand and pulled you along with her, plopping you into a vinyl seat a few rows from the back. As soon as you sat down, a pair of blue eyes covered by floppy blond bangs popped up over the seat in front of you.

You noticed him right away, eyes wide as his sudden presence startled you, and your cheeks burned bright red for reasons that you didn’t understand yet. The boy didn’t notice your blushing, his attention fully focused on Carter as he reached his hand over the seat and pulled at her braid.

“Quit it, Rafe!” Carter swatted his hand away. 

The boy, Rafe, smiled, a small dimple creasing his cheek. You weren’t sure why, but you wished more than anything that he was smiling at you instead. After bugging Carter a little longer, his gaze finally shifted over to you and your eyes shot down nervously to your lap.

“Who is that?” Rafe blurted out, talking about but not to you.

You looked at Carter in panic, tongue-tied as you tried to stammer out your name, which you were struggling to remember. Carter noticed your look of desperation, you were so shy and she had gotten used to speaking for you.

“That’s my sister,” Carter said with pride. “She goes to school with us now.”

“Oh, hi,” Rafe said, polite but unimpressed.

“H-hi,” you managed to squeak out, tucking your hair behind your ears, which were burning red.

Rafe disappeared back into his seat. Carter looked at you, noticing how you were nervously biting your lip, your go to tick when you were nervous. She folded her hand protectively in yours and didn’t let go until she dropped you off at your kindergarten classroom.

This is how your interactions with Rafe would go for the rest of elementary school, and middle school, too. He’d ignore you most of the time, tossing you a word or a look here or there, and you’d melt into an absolute puddle everytime. Your tendency to blush at everything he did never went away, meaning everyone knew you loved him.

Your crush was common knowledge among your sister’s friends, hell among the whole school, but no one dared mention it or tease you about it, lest they tempt Carter’s wrath. But they knew, and you knew they knew, and you knew he knew. 

As a freshman, you quickly became first in your class, taking sophomore math and science courses. You ended up in the same first and last period as Rafe, who always struggled in school. After a few weeks of chatting during labs and lending Rafe your notes, you actually started to feel like he had become your friend. He played every sport, and you were right there in the bleachers for every game. Sometimes, when he’d make a great play, he’d look at you in the stands and wink, making your whole body blush, feeling like the most special girl in the world. But then, on his next play, he’d wink at another girl or playfully bow to the cheer squad and it’d make you want to die, suddenly invisible again.

“He’s such a douche,” Carter would nudge you with her elbow, trying to downplay the moment because she knew you were crushed.

You dreaded the day Carter would graduate and leave you at this school alone. You weren’t friends with anyone in your own grade, it seemed the year you were born produced more mean girls and fuck boys than the one before it. Carter would tell you the girls in your grade were just jealous that you got to hang out with her class, but you always thought it was more that they didn’t understand you, and people tend to attack what they don’t understand.

Cassie Bryant was the worst of them. She was the Kook princess of your year, as pretty and popular as anyone could be. From early on, she mastered the art of being mean to you in a way that crushed your spirit but looked totally friendly to everyone else. She’d make backhanded comments like “the way you dress is so…interesting” or “you’re lucky you have so much free time to study, I’m way too busy.” 

She was even worse when Rafe was around. It was like Cassie had a radar for when he was finally giving you some attention, and the second you felt comfortable, she’d be there playfully stealing his baseball hat or pouting at him and saying “Rafey, do you have a J?” Then as she pulled him away, she’d laugh at you and say “it’s okay, we know you’re too cool to smoke with us.” No one saw the smug look she’d shoot you as she hung on his arm. You’d try to explain to Rafe why her words hurt you, but he never understood. He’d just shrug and say “that’s just Cassie, she has no filter.” 

At least Carter believed you. 

“Pick-me bitch,” she’d spit as she watched you watch Cassie steal Rafe away yet again.

You and Rafe saw each other every day. You’d tutor him for tests and help with his homework, you were in advanced classes and he had to retake most of his credits. He’d call you “Einstein” and “smarty pants,” always finding a way to address you without actually using your name. You never thought much of it, convincing yourself that his nicknames were coming from a place of affection. When he wasn’t copying your homework or convincing you to stay up after all of your work was done to help him with his, you found other ways to feel needed. You’d bring him lunch from his favorite spot when he got in-school suspension, bake him brownies before his big games, and give him rides to all his practices since his dad took away his truck so often. 

Every afternoon at 4:45, you’d stop by the gas station across from your school and get a Redbull and protein bar for him, and a bag of your favorite candy for yourself. You’d park by the field house, waiting in your car with his snacks for sometimes a half-an-hour before he decided to stop messing around with his friends and head out. When you’d give him his snack, he’d kiss your cheek and say, “thanks, kid.” Even though it wasn’t really meant to be romantic, you lived for those moments when you could pretend you were his girlfriend, smiling at the way the cheerleaders eyed your car judgmentally when you pulled out of the lot with the Rafe Cameron in your passenger seat.

“He’s just using you,” Carter would say when you got home.

“No he’s not,” you’d shrug, “we’re friends.”

“Sure,” she rolled her eyes. 

Even if Rafe broke your heart everyday, you were fine with it as long as he put it back together the next with some small gesture that made you hope…maybe someday.

Then, in the spring semester of your junior year, his senior year, you were parked outside the field house like usual after one of his baseball practices. You saw his figure emerge from the brick building, his hair wet and clinging to his forehead. You smiled wildly, your heart fluttering every time you saw him, even after all these years. You got his snacks out and set them on the seat for him, ready for your daily thank you.

But he didn’t head for your car like usual, instead he veered toward the group of cheerleaders gathered on the other side of the lot. You frowned, eyes furrowed as you watched him approach the gaggle of girls. When he reached them, he grabbed one of their hands and pulled her out of the huddle. Your heart sank when you realized who it was.

Cassie giggled as Rafe pulled her toward him, the other girls in the circle laughing and catcalling toward them. Clearly everyone in this parking lot knew something you didn’t.

And then he kissed her. 

Rafe pulled away from the kiss, hands still on Cassie’s waist, and watched with confusion as your car peeled out of the parking lot without him.

You didn’t speak to him the whole next week, but he was completely oblivious to your heartbreak, still texting you as if nothing ever happened. 

Thursday, March 23rd

Hey kid, u coming to my game tomorrow? u know I need my good luck charm Read 11:03 pm

Sunday, March 26th

Babyyyyy in drvnk at top’s pick me upppp? :(  Read 2:17 am

 

Tuesday, March 28th

yo dude u got the hw packet done for precal? I’m screwed for tomorrow Read 9:56 pm

You’d stare at the messages for a long time before shoving your phone in your desk drawer or turning it off all together, but always made sure to open the message so he’d know you read it. 

Then you’d cry yourself to sleep. 

Carter would sit in your bed each night, rubbing your back comfortingly, pissed that she couldn’t do more to save you from this hurt, muttering under her breath about how she was gonna kick his ass.

After only a week of unreturned texts and trying to get your attention at school with no luck, Rafe went silent. You thought you’d make him sweat for a few weeks before forgiving him, enough time to show you he cared that you weren’t speaking, but then he did the exact opposite.

“It’s for the best,” Carter tried to convince you. 

Maybe she was right. After you no longer had Rafe in your life, you threw yourself into your schoolwork. You had always been smart, but now that you were more focused on yourself and not him, you were acing every class, top of the honor roll. 

The gang all went their separate ways after graduation. Rafe to UNC Chapel Hill, Carter to Duke, Topper and Kelce to U of Florida. With your sister and her friends gone, you spent senior year alone, but opened acceptance letter after acceptance letter. Rafe faded slowly from your mind as you dreamt out your future. 

Eventually you got the letter you were waiting for, your dream school. The day before you left the island, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss out on the college experience the way you missed out in high school. 

Then, hundreds of miles away from home, something miraculous happened. Far from the memories of your lonely childhood and Rafe Cameron, you bloomed. You made friends early on, feeling like you may have finally found your people in academia. You picked up intramural sports, now you were the one scoring goals and spiking balls and waving smugly to all your friends in the stands. You dated, and you dated. Never settling on one guy too long, having too much fun to tie yourself down.

Things just clicked so much easier, no longer living in your sister’s shadow, far enough away from all the shy girl stereotypes to explore and figure out who you were on your own terms. And slowly, all thoughts of Rafe Cameron faded from your mind. You only thought of him when he made cameos in your dreams, the high school nightmare variety - late to class, showing up naked on accident, a test you forgot to study for, and Rafe in the parking lot kissing Cassie Bryant. You’d wake up cursing your subconscious and feel off for about half a day, before your fast paced routine in your new city erased his face from your mind again.

You changed physically, too. Though you didn’t really feel any different, Carter would make comments every time you came home for a holiday or event.

“Damn, bitch,” she’d say, looking you up and down and wolf-whistling. 

“Shut up,” you’d roll your eyes, feigning annoyance when it really made your confidence soar. 

She’s just being a supportive sister, you’d tell yourself, clinging to the same insecurity you’d had your whole life. But she wasn’t the only one, boys noticed you now a way they never used to. You hooked up with enough guys to start to feel comfortable with the attention, but whenever you’d draw eyes at college parties or lecture halls, your cheeks would still go bright red, never quite figuring out how to turn off that particular mannerism.

You were almost done with your third year, a plane ticket to head back to North Carolina for Carter’s graduation already purchased. One night, as she showed you options for her graduation outfit on Facetime, she casually threw out, “some of us from Kildare are going to Miami to celebrate graduation.”

“Oh?” You said, not really listening, going over a term paper with a red pen for the fifth time.

“You should come…” she was nervous, trying to say it casually enough that maybe you might not overthink it and just say yes.

“Wait sorry, come where?” You put down your pen and actually looked at the screen, knowing she hated when you were listening without really listening like this.

“Miami,” she repeated. “A few of us are getting an Airbnb on the beach for a week after finals.”

“Who’s us?” You asked. 

“Oh y’know,” she started listing names of her old friends, a lot more people than you expected, your throat tightening with a social anxiety you hadn’t felt in years at thought of being in a room with that many people from high school. “...Jack, Maddie, Sabrina. Topper and Kelce obviously,” she continued, at least ten names deep, going quiet for a moment before adding “...and Rafe.”

“No.” you said simply, propping the phone back up and returning to your paper.

“Oh, come onnnn,” she whined, not at all surprised by your response. “It’s been four years, and you’re thriving now! You can just pretend he’s not there.”

“Yes, exactly,” you snarked at her. “Just as I’m finally thriving, you want me to spend a week stuck in a house with Rafe Cameron. That makes sense.”

“You and I will hang out on the beach the whole time, we don’t even have to talk to him,” she reasoned. “And he can just sit in the corner and look at your hot body and feel like shit for being such a dick to you in high school.”

You laughed a little despite yourself. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that wished he could see you now. Even though you stayed away from Kildare as much as possible and barely went out when you were home, terrified of running into him, you also dreamt of a time you would see him again. New look, new confidence, new you. 

“Hah! You’re thinking about it aren’t you?” Carter said smugly, interrupting your thoughts.

“Maybe,” you said, turning back to your schoolwork.

“I’ll take that as a yes!” she cheered victoriously.

“Or you can take it as a maybe, which is what it is,” you corrected her.

“Pleaseeee?” She begged. “It’s my graduation trip! And I don’t want to be there without you.”

You sighed deeply, weighing all of the pros and cons as you bit your lip. Carter had always been there for you, and if it was so important to her that you make this trip, it was really the least you could do. Plus, she was going abroad for grad school in just a few weeks, and you knew it would be your last chance to spend time with her for a while.

“Fine…I’ll come,” you finally conceded. 

“Yay!” Carter yelped. “Best trip ever!”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Best trip ever.”

(Chapter 1)

a/n: hi, i'm nat and i've struggled with body image and anxiety my whole life and I have been the victim of countless unrequited loves, particularly in my teen years, though the sting never really goes away. writing this series has been really personal to me so far, and i'm having a great time. I hope you like it. ♡

[cutestdomi]

‘cutie’

— theo nott x reader

summary! in which, the school’s heartthrob and womanizer, seems to have someone who has caught his eye, aka [name] [last name]. a quiet, calm, shy and bright hufflepuff.

— warnings? ; fluff, slight (and i mean SLIGHT) angst.

it started when you had bumped into him, a string of apologies left your throat and there wasn’t any room for him to speak. he was left speechless at how scared you were, and also the way you looked as you whimpered against his glance.

his eyes pierced into yours, a nervous smile expressed onto that cute, frail, face of yours. he couldnt take his eyes off you, feeling the need to smile, and that was enough for you to stop what you were saying.

“i’m so so sorry, please i didn’t mean to—“

“it’s fine, accidents happen, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, principessa.” he said, his tone was soothing, using it as a way to calm you down. his smile never left his face, his eyes softened as he looked at you, never wanting this moment to end.

“oh uh.. thank you..” the girl infront of him meekly said, her eyes moved away from him, having an urge to not make eye contact since it was way too much for her. she had grabbed her stuff, her arms in place as she decided it was best to walk away instead of embarrassing herself further.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

it was weird, weird how theo had that basic hufflepuff lingering on his mind throughout the whole day, how could he be so smitten with only one interaction?

he always looked around for you, asking around, he even asked his group to look for you. and he made sure everyone knew about his feelings for you, but you were still, so oblivious to his feelings and his actions towards you, thinking he may be playing a joke on you.

So when he had come up to you on your way to your dorm, you had finally had enough and decided to speak up before he could get a word in. deciding this was the best way to finally put an end to all this tomfoolery..

“you know, toying with someone this much is literally embarrassing, i will not fall to my knees just for you to toy with me as you’ve done before, theodore.” i spoke, the tone in my voice stern and showed no sign of playing around, my smile was switched with a frown.

he was shocked, the expression he made had made it clear he was. “w-what? cara mia, i wouldn’t toy with you, i promise. i love you.” his voice solemn and quiet as can be, his eyes shone down and i could catch a glimpse of sadness through them the more i looked at him. he took steps forward, trying to express his true intentions in that moment.

“oh theodore, please don’t play around with me.” i said, my voice meek as i looked at him with a slight smile but still kept my distance as i was still unsure if he was true to his words. but i hope he was, i knew he was, but there was still something keeping me from saying yes.

his hand crept up to my face, slightly touching it as he looked at me first for permission before doing anything. i looked back, my eyes assuring him he could touch me and keep on with his action. his other hand occupied mine as our hands tangled together, his face creeping towards mine.

the moment was quick, but to me it was long, a sweet moment we shared. our lips placed on eachothers, i felt his smooth lips on mine as i kissed him back, trying to deepen the kiss. i didn’t want this moment to end, but it did, sadly.

“awh look who’s so impatient now, my principessa” he grinned at the nickname as he looked back on their first meeting together, her shy, gentleness with that smile that could make just about anybody (him) swoon. he grabbed my hand with his other one, the one that had once occupied my cheek.

he then placed my hand on his fair, soft skin. smiling at the cuteness, i couldn’t contain the way i felt in that moment. merlins how lucky was i? very indeed. he smiled, a cute grin and a flushed expression shown onto his face.

“i love you too, my cutie.” i grinned as i said it, the nickname sticking to him as his eyes rised up at the nickname. his grin growing even bigger now, god he couldn’t contain the love and excitement he felt when that word left your mouth. he hugged you, his arms around your waist as he kissed your cheek.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

[keri-mcberry]

Spring Break 🌸✨ (Part 2)

I'm so happy to finally introduce Lyla's family! I've never been so invested in an OC's backstory before LMAO 💕

Lyla is indeed Muggleborn (as a couple people have guessed!), so it came as quite a shock to everyone when she received her Hogwarts letter! I legit added Alfie last minute. It was originally just going to be Lyla's parents, but I LOVE writing about sibling tomfoolery (I have four brothers and one sister, so I have a lot of source material LOL)

Also, as I was writing down names for the MC Art Challenge, I realized I never mentioned Lyla's last name. It's Estaris! ✨ I should probably start tagging that more often 😅

<< PART 1 || PART 3 >>

[quantum1mmortality]

HIII HELLOOO HIII YOUR WRITING IS SO AMAZING AAAHHH KISS EMOJI??!?!?! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About requests!!! What's about some reverse comfort or even reverse comfort for Curly when reader or he is very stressed for some reason??? Maybe one of them had a nightmare, or had awful day at job???

ANYWAYS HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORK MWAH ❤️❤️❤️

Hello again chat, lovely seeing you here

I'm slightly confused on what this ask is... Asking. So I'm just gonna do hcs on how curly would want to be comforted/how he expresses his feelings, and how he would comfort reader(YOU!!! 🫵)

Forgive me if this is not what you wanted anon

Not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Curly comes off as a very confident and optimistic person. But, he, like everyone else, is human. So certain things are bound to get to him.

I feel as though he'd be the type of man to try to hide these emotions from you. He doesn't want you seeing him like that, he doesn't want you to think he's weak.

So I think the way he'd show he's upset or stressed is by being quiet. Not by ignoring you, but in a way that you can definitely tell whats going on.

When he's in this state, the only thing you can really do to try and help him is to be near him. Your presence comforts him, so cuddling him on the couch helps quicken the process.

Eventually, he'll start talking to you. Saying why he's feeling the way he is and exactly how he feels. You can't hear it in his voice, but small tears would run down his cheeks while talking.

Again, there's not much you can really do to help him when he's in this state. All you can really do is listen.

Once he's done crying and telling you all about his current problems, he's fine again. Like, back to normal. Like how does he recover that quickly??? But hey, if it helps him, that's all that matters.

Now, on the flip side, Curly is the KING of comforting people(specifically you though).

Coming home crying after a long, stressful day at work? He's got you covered, he just needs to know what you're in the mood for.

Want something to eat? He'll make you your comfort food that you mentioned once 5 years ago and he somehow still remembers it.

Not in the mood to eat? Alright, he'll just put your favorite movie on and you guys can watch it together.

And of course, if you need to talk about it, he'll always listen to whatever you have to say.

Another thing he does when you're stressed out is just, give you a bath; but in a cool husband way. He'll run a warm bath, maybe add in some flower petals and your favorite essential oils, and just pick you up and plop you in there.

He'll even stay at the side of the tub in case you need anything. Most of the time it's just silence, but in a therapeutic way.

And if he were to join you in that bath as per your request there would be NO tomfoolery!!! Curly would save that for another time, preferably when you're not emotionally distressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N; I need to write for this man so bad like I actually feel like I'm going insane curly pls one chance I swear I'll treat you so good plsplspslspslsllsllslslspsllspspsls

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 107... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

OH MY GOODNESS! 😱 THE ENDING OF THIS CHAPTER, DUDE!!! 😵

For what seemed like just a fun little chapter, learned quite a bit of things and possibly a hint to a major reveal...!! 😲 So let's talk about it, shall we...? 😁

In today's chapter, we are back with the Forgers this time around, but this time... WE AT THE ANNUAL SHEEP FESTIVAL!!! 🐑😆

But in actuality, Twilight only brought the family here because the Lady Patriots Society were the ones to put this festival together, which means... Plan C, a.k.a. The Mommy Friendship Scheme is what Twilight is hoping to progress...!! 👌😌 But of course, that only makes Anya think about THIS:

ANYA, YOU ABSOLUTE NUTTY GIRL!!! 🤣🤣🤣

Never change Anya, never change...!! 👌😌

After Anya's tomfoolery, we see that Damian, Ewen and Emile are with Jeeves and the other butlers are also at the festival...!! 😄:

But they aren't the only ones to show up at this festival of sheeps... 😁 In fact, we get to see the Blackbells (now including Becky's mom 😆), the Watkins (Bill's dad is officially in the manga now 😎) and the Gloomans (though, we've already seen George's dad 😅); and of course, Twilight goes "Straight To Work" as Anya's puts it...!! 👌😌

Not to mention, we also learn the names of Becky's, Bill's and George's dads' names!! 😆 (Byron Blackbell, Wesley Watkins, and Dennis Glooman to be exact...!! 😁)

After that, some people start recognizing Anya, Damian and Becky (and most likely Bill as well) for their brave and heroic actions all the way back in the Hijacking arc...!! 😄

While Twilight on the other hand is loosing his mind over how much information he could possibly get these people as well...!! 🕵 (Oh Twilight... Always thinking of his spy work... 👌😌)

Soon after that, Damian challenges Anya to a game of ring toss and says that if she loses, he wants her to leave the festival. And so, the game was on...!! 😄

I really love this image of the Eden kids just having fun, it truly warms my heart...! 🤗 (even if Damian got hit in the face thanks to Anya...! 😌)

While the kids are still competing with each other, Jeeves starts talking about his hopes for the children...:

Then, we see Twilight look towards Anya and say this in his head...:

This definitely makes me think that Twilight is feeling more and more guilty for using Anya for his mission... 😔

After that, Damian wins the ring toss and tells Anya that she has leave now...! Buuut, she starts crying and Damian changes his mind about making her leave, which makes Anya (and Twilight) happy...!! 😄 Then, Becky suggests that her and Anya should go to this hall of clairvoyants, where Becky mentions that the clairvoyants could probably tell how compatible someone is with their lover, which makes Damian not want to go in there at all...!! 😆 So Becky, Anya, Yor and Mathra head in to get there fortune read, while everyone goes elsewhere (including Twilight who is going drinking with the boys 😎👍).

Once inside, there's a huge line for someone named Magical 🌟 Crowley, which if I remember correctly, Crowley is the same last name as that triangle shaped haired kid that got the highest score on classical language while Anya got the second highest score... Hmmm, interesting... 🤔 Anyway, instead of going to Crowley's booth (which was charging up the wazoo), Anya suggests that they should just go see LunaLuna 🌙 Selena, but Becky doesn't like that she doesn't charge and isn't accurate, so she and Martha go to the middle tier while Anya and Yor go see Selena...! When Anya and Yor get there, no one is there at first, but then Selena wobbles out and almost falls over when Yor catches her, and...:

IT'S MOTHER F---ING MELINDA DESMOND!!! 😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?! CAN SHE ACTUALLY SHE INTO THE FUTURE?!?! SO MANY DAMN QUESTIONS...!!! 😵😵😵

And that was the end of the chapter... Endo, WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?!?! 😩 Before it was revealed that the fortune teller was Melinda, I already had a sneaking suspicion that LunaLuna 🌙 Selena was gonna be Melinda, but now I wonder if she's actually got psychic abilities to see into the future or not...! 😲 The Magical 🌟 Crowley has also got my attention, is this person related to Arnold Crowley (I believe that's his name) or is it Arnold Crowley himself...? 🤔

Either way, the next chapter is gonna be a very interesting one, folks!! 👌😎 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! LATER!! 👋😄

[lizzy06]

Osamu Miya x Reader Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Inarizaki Fic Rec Masterlist

A Debt Repaid ✨✨by matchumu (oneshot, sibling love)"Just keep the money." Atsumu repeats. "Don't think of it as a charity. Just think of it as a debt repaid."It was Miya Atsumu who bought the first Onigiri Miya store. [COMPLETED]

a world without you by my side ✨by farozaan (oneshot, happy ending, waking up in alternate au, time travel) He wanted just a single day without his brother all around him. That would be paradise. Miya Osamu makes a wish and regrets it. [COMPLETED]

tick. thump. pt 1  Pt 2 , Pt 3✨✨ by @seokiloquy (soulmate au)[COMPLETED]

long shots ✨✨by vogonpoetry(oneshot, fluff, grad student! reader, TA! osamu )miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him

Markings✨  by @storyoffracturedstars (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) There are multiple trypes of soulmate marks... timer, tattoo, compass, you could hear whatever tour soulmate hears from tie to time.[COMPLETED]

Finding Your Soulmate by @leafsgarbage(oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) [COMPLETED]

All I Want ✨✨by Declaraso(friends to lovers, fluff, secret crush)The twins have been your friends for as long as you can remember. They've always been there and you reckon they'll remain with you 'till all of you are old and gray. Miya, Osamu wants nothing more, as long as he's the one holding your hand.[COMPLETED]

Switch Up✨ by mochi_puff (strangers to lovers, fluff)Miya mama pesters Atsumu to find a girlfriend and sets him up on blind dates. One day, he decides to rope his twin brother in to switch with him in disguise. What's the worst that could happen?[COMPLETED]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits✨✨ by secretpeachtea (fluff, humor)Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job.You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players. [COMPLETED]

fair chance by seliene (friends to lovers, humor, fluff, angst with happy ending)sure, he isn’t a star athlete, like his brother, but you (still) think he’d be the man of your dreams—do all that he can, be all he can be.[COMPLETED]

Lapse in Judgement ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst)A car crash has taken Osamu’s brother away, the boy you liked so dearly. Osamu was dull to the pain, his crush on you blinding him from reality. But when he dyes his hair in hopes that he could make you feel the same, he realizes he may have gone too far.[COMPLETED]

Comfort Food by bloomgloomy (friendship/ love, fluff, humor)When you finally meet Atsumu's twin, Osamu, everyone but you sees the sparks fly. That's when the Black Jackals decide to give their blind manager the push you need.[COMPLETED]

A Good Dream/without theme ✨✨by @yourstarvic (oneshot, fluff, humor)Osamu had a good dream but with some repercussion.[COMPLETED]

long shots by vogonpoetry(oneshot, fluff, slowburn)miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Bite by secondhand_trash (domestic fluff, eventual romance)Your story with Miya Osamu started with tears, rain, and really good food.[COMPLETED]

Put my lips to something by tsumoo (starngers to lovers, blind date, fluff)The thought that you could be another person for Osamu to take care of—it satiates the ache. Loneliness is just another form of hunger. You realise that now.[COMPLETED]

around by satendou(heavy angst, post breakup, mentions of cheating) how you and osamu find your way back to each other.[COMPLETED]

Fishes of the Same Pond ✨by admiringlove (fake dating, fluff, humor, angst with happy ending) a book. a boy. a shelf at the empty side of the library. and a sweet little spin of fate with romance and some pining. what could go wrong?[COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

[getmeoutofhell]

I just read all of the slasher house stuff and I saw you did Valak head cannons so I was wondering if you would do Annabelle a.k.a Malthus head cannons please

Love you and your work ❤️

Annabelle/Malthus in the Slasher House

thank you and love you too!

where should i start? oh yeah, let’s start with the facts that’s that doll is always by you!

like idk if malthus likes to fuck around or what, but anabelle be all up on you i promise.

if he ever shows his self in the main room, it’s because of one reason. someone pissed him off.

“mortem mortem mortem.” he whispers sometimes at night. you can’t count how many times chucky told him to stfu. you can’t help but laugh more each time it happens.

“fuck u looking at?” chucky says to annabelle. you find that hilarious as well. you sometimes swear you see the dolls eyes move, but you never confirmed anything yet. it’s probably best if you don’t tho.

malthus is more in his own corner person. don’t bother him, and he won’t bother you. art had to learn that the hard way…

to be honest the doll creeps y’all out more than he does. malthus himself doesn’t fool with anybody there at the house. but if he does it’s for a good reason.

each week you catch that damn doll in your room. ‘why the fuck would you he put you there?’ you think, before tossing that bitch out the door. you sometimes wonder if he sort of trusts you with the doll, considering it’s by you at all times.

every so often you see his real form in the corner of your eye or in the shadows. “oh hey malthus.” he doesn’t respond to you but you know he heard you.

sometimes when you wanna be petty you and one of the clowns dress up the annabelle doll in different clothes. “malthus is gonna be so upset.” you laugh, knowing he’s gonna rage at y’all’s tomfoolery.

for some reason, malthus seems to like you the most out of everyone. you don’t know why…or how for that matter. just be careful if he gets to close to you…

[earthnashes]

Heyooooo ya'll! Figured it'd be a good idea to give a quick lil update on what I'm up to since it's been a while since I just talked on here.

If you don't wanna read here's the TL;DR:

-Fanart and headcanon AU projects in indefinite hiatus. This tumblr will host my commissioned art, original art/OC projects, and occasional tomfoolery of my thoughts, worldbuilding posts, interests, and updates on my Powerlifting venture.

The full update under the break! :)

Not so good news: Rent's going up. Who's isn't, right? Gonna be putting a serious effort on looking for a new place (I'm reeaaallly gunning for a house) because SHEEEEEEEEEEEESH that spike in price for the exact same shit? Nah man. Likely will get rough a few times over the next few months but I'm confident I'll figure things out!

----

I'm doing relatively good! Cool news: I will be competing in my first powerlifting meet this year! It's been made official as of two months ago, and I've been hard at work with training and prep for the meet. I have my eye on making the state record for the Benchpress in my weightclass and I think I have real shot at it, so I'm gonna make the attempt. Wish me luck! ;w;

Now, the crux of why the update: I figured it was probably high time to mention the complete lack of fanart and headcanons 'round here, especially because that's what helped me find all of you and vice versa.

I'll be honest; I am no longer burnt out on creating art, but I've found the interest to continue any of my AU fanprojects is still missing, so as of right now they are on an indefinite hiatus. I apologize to everyone who followed me for the Super Mario, the LoZ stuff, anything and everything I was working on before the burnout! ;w;

I'm still working on projects, they're just completely original ones! I've been having so much fun with them and I'm pretty happy with them; here's a quick preview of each:

One is a slowburn fantasy where a god becomes trapped in the mortal realm while on a mission, but ends up compromising said mission when she begins to believe everything she knew about mortals is a lie.

The second project is an anthro mystery/thriller about a doe who knows her husband was murdered, but no one else believes her. As she works to find his killer herself, the last thing she expects is falling in love.

The third is the only fanproject I have going and ya'll know of it: Melon's Adventure! Follow Melon as he faces dangers and villains on his quest to return baby Mario to his family. A retelling of Yoshi's Island with twists and a personal flair!

---

But ye! I wanna say thank you all so much for your interest and engagement with my fanart work; regardless of everything I had an absolute great time working on them, and you all made them all the more enjoyable. It may take a little bit before I start posting them, but I hope you stick around for the original/OC stuff and enjoy what I've got in store! ;w;

Feel free to ask questions or make comments, I'll be around to respond starting today. Until then keep them peepers open for more art! :)

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - CJ Braxton Prompt Response

Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.

Pairing: CJ Braxton x Female!Reader; CJ Braxton x College Student!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I initially wasn't going to write anything for CJ but this idea popped into my head for this prompt and I just had to write it. And I absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between CJ and the reader (and had so much fun with this). Please forgive any timeline tomfoolery or anything time wise that makes you go "huh?"; I was trying to make this work throughout the season from CJ's entry into the show (and his conversation with Jen about the helpline) to the end.

I wasn't much of a Dawson's Creek person back in the day (I still haven't seen seasons 2-5), so I hope this came out alright. I tried to keep it as 2000-ish as possible. I remember back in the day not everyone had a cell phone like Dawson, Audrey, and Pacey (though a lot of people were getting them moving into the beginning of the decade) so that rule kind of applied here so to speak.

This is meant to take place during s6 before Jen joins The Stand.

Sequel here

Warnings: implied sex; panic attacks; implied anxiety

Word Count: 15k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

CJ Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ Alec version ✨ SDV Leah version

You glanced at the clock, seeing it was 6:59. One more minute and you’d pick up the phone as you did every Friday night and make the call you always did. Your nerves thrummed in anticipation as you stared down the clock, willing the numbers to turn.

Eventually, you got your wish and as soon as the 7 appeared on the clock face you picked up the phone, dialing the number you now knew by heart. After a few rings, the call finally connected. 

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey.”

“There she is.” You could hear his own smile in his tone as he recognized you. “How are you, Jo?”

You winced at the fake name you had given him. At the time, you had quickly scrambled and chose the first name that came to mind. Granted, Joey Potter was in the same school as you so you weren’t too worried about him finding out about either of you seeing as he was from Boston Bay. But as you had talked with him more and more, you really wished you hadn’t given him any name but your own. Even if you were beyond terrified; you felt bad for lying to him.

Why should it matter, right? He was a volunteer counselor for a teen helpline at another college. Why would you care what this one person thought out of you?

Well, unbeknownst to him, you had seen him once and you knew who he was. Thanks to Joey and Audrey’s friendship with Jen, you had come to hear quite a bit about the cute tall guy whose voice made your heart rate speed up way too fast. Jen had even invited him out to a house party and that was when you saw him for the first time. Your nerves got to you and you bounced before one of your friends could make an introduction. Partly because you were afraid he would recognize you from your voice and immediately put a face to the name and possibly be disappointed or worse: he’d know you lied to him. So you avoided him at all costs — well, in person.

It wasn’t like you had planned for this to happen, where you would call a helpline weekly just to speak to a certain boy. That’s not how this started at all.

When you got to Worthington, you were homesick, overwhelmed, and overall terrified. While you eventually eased into the college student lifestyle and Boston was now home, you never really got past the overwhelmed feeling, and terrified had dialed down to being anxious all the time: anxious that you would mess up, anxious that you would fail, anxious that your future wouldn’t turn out the way you planned — all of it. There were days you felt like you were just scraping by, barely making a passing grade (though your final grade usually proved you wrong), and you felt like you were some sort of imposter who was soon to be found out and didn’t really belong. Meeting Joey and her roommate, Audrey Liddell, who lived down the hall from you, helped some, and their introducing you to their group of friends helped even more. But there were still times that you just felt…tightly wound and about to snap. As if you had too many balls in the air and you were about to trip, and all the balls would fall to the ground.

So when Jen mentioned to the group about some guy wanting her to join a teen helpline for the college, you quietly paid attention. She laughed it off — his approach, not the helpline — and she didn’t think she would be right for it so that was that. While everyone else began to talk and laugh about another topic, the wheels in your head slowly started to turn inside your head. A helpline where you could remain anonymous and talk to someone who would listen and could possibly even help. You knew your school most likely had one of those but you wouldn’t even dream of risking it. But a helpline elsewhere where you could talk to someone who maybe understood how you were feeling most of the time, maybe experienced similar things, and you were able to stay anonymous? That you could look into.

After much back and forth in your mind over it, you took the leap and made the call one Friday night after a particularly rough week. You really didn’t think anyone would pick up, it was close to 7:00 and most college kids were either out or getting ready to go out…right?

Before you could answer your own question to yourself, the line connected.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You did what any other person would do; you promptly hung up. You stared at your phone in terror. Someone had picked up. A guy. Just when you were convincing yourself that this was stupid and you needed to take a chill pill and deal.

You argued with yourself in your head for about another minute, hemming and hawing over it all. Wasn’t the whole point of you calling to try to do something about how you’d been feeling? You supposed you could always see a therapist here in town but that could be costly, even with insurance. You also had no desire to tell your parents because they would respond the same way they did the last time you tried to allude to how overwhelmed you were when you had returned home for the summer.

“You should be grateful you got into such a great school, Y/N. Most people would kill to be in your position, going after their degree. You don’t see your classmates moping about, do you? Just because they have classes and homework,” your mother had made sure to prick you with that pin of guilt. “Make the best of it.”

“You know what I think? I think you need to get yourself some friends and then you’ll stop focusing on this so much. If you have nothing to fill your time, of course your mind is going to obsess over what you’re viewing as negative. Try to join a club or a social group. They have keggers all the time. I remember back when I was in college. It was party city every weekend. Maybe let loose a little one of these Saturday nights and things will start to get better. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you mumbled, tossing your overeasy egg onto its side with your fork, your eyes trained on your plate. You knew he was just trying to help — they both were — but their attitude seemed to imply that you could simply hit an off switch somewhere and you’d stop feeling so overwhelmed. If only.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to take their advice. You had gone to some frat party and it had been one of the worst experiences of your life. You weren’t a big drinker and you weren’t really a party person in general. You didn’t really recognize anyone from your classes or your dorm and the music was so loud, it seemed like a ridiculous notion to try to approach someone and start a conversation. Not something you were very good at anyway. You had no idea how to play the drinking games you saw, other than what you’d seen on TV, and you didn’t want to do something to mess up anyone’s scores if you didn’t do it right. Then some hulk of a guy accidentally knocked into you, deluging you in beer, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even apologize, just kept on going. After about an hour (and the unintended beer bath), you decided to call it quits.  

That night, you had gone back to your dorm room which was blissfully empty, taken a hot shower, and then sobbed into your pillow. So much so that when a drunken Audrey accidentally stumbled into your room, she saw your tear-stained face when your head snapped up and immediately asked what was wrong and why you were crying in her room of all things. Despite the back and forth over whose room it actually was and her drunken state along with the slurring of her words, you two actually kind of hit it off. Before long she had you laughing, something you felt like you hadn’t done in some time. She passed out in your roommate’s bed, much to your roommate’s chagrin, but when Audrey’s boyfriend and roommate came to get her the next morning, you figured that had been it. Your one social interaction with someone who didn’t look at you as an unwanted intruder every single day (like your roommate) or like you were some loner weirdo (like most of your classmates). You knew that Audrey would probably either ignore you the next time she ran into you or she wouldn’t remember you at all. 

Boy, had you been wrong. The day after her hangover, she had been knocking on your door, smiling and telling you that you were going out with her for the night. Just like that. She introduced you to her roommate, Joey, and their group of friends. You had been inducted into their group of friends, just like that.

Eventually, Jen mentioned the helpline that one night and now here you were, staring at the phone as if it was about to come to life and do a dance or something. You waited a few more minutes, deciding you’d try again and hopefully get someone else. There couldn’t be only one person answering phones at a helpline, could there? That would make for some backed up phone traffic and not a good look for a helpline at all. Maybe you’d be lucky and the guy would have already had another caller he was speaking to so another counselor would have to pick up.

When the clock turned to 7:11, you slowly picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number again. You began to jiggle your leg as you waited for the line to connect.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

Oh crap. You froze.

“Hello?”

What did you do? You wanted to hang the phone up again but you were unable to. 

“Hello?” He asked again.

No. You were going to be a mature adult about this and answer him. Just as soon as you could breathe. You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and exhaled a breath.

“Look, if you’re in trouble or can’t talk, just hit a button. Any button will work.” A minute passed while you were trying to breathe, getting ready to talk. “If you don’t have a crisis and you’re not calling to speak to someone here, then I think you should hang up and let other people who need us call in. No use in tying up the phone lines.”

Another minute passed. You really were trying your hardest to get words out but your chest was tight and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your heart was racing yet you were frozen. This happened sometimes but usually you were by yourself, not with someone waiting for you to speak on the other end of the phone line. It also happened a couple of times while you were out with your friends, but usually you hid out in a bathroom stall until it passed and then you left to go back to your dorm with the excuse of a test the next day or a project due, whatever you could come up with on the fly. You didn’t understand why it was happening to you right now, though.

“Alright, I’m going to hang up now.”

You smashed a key on your phone so fast that you heard a loud annoying sound in your ear. Immediately, the guy’s tone changed. 

“Okay, I’m here. If you’re in trouble, hit the key again. If you’re not but can’t talk at the moment, don’t hit it.”

You didn’t hit any more keys and gasped for air that just wasn’t coming.

“Good. I’m glad you’re okay. Is someone in the room with you and that’s why you can’t talk? If so, hit the key again.” 

You moved over to your bed and laid down. That was the fastest way to get your body to relax when you had the option you’d found out.

“Okay, so you’re alone but you can’t talk but you’re not in trouble. Can you just try to say one word or make a sound so I know you’re really okay?” 

You removed your hand from the mouthpiece. “T-Trying,” you rasped out. Holy crap, this was a bad episode you were having. You were completely mortified. Perhaps you really should hang up. You were worried, though, that now he might notify someone or think you really were prank calling the helpline. Either way, you were bound to get in trouble and even more embarrassed, and that just made your chest tighter.

“Okay. That’s good. I’ll take that. Do you have asthma or something similar?” 

Great. That’s how bad you’d sounded; he thought you might actually have some sort of breathing issue. Well, technically, you were struggling to breathe right now so it made sense that he would think that but if he only knew the actual answer was something that was beyond ridiculous and couldn’t be explained away as something as serious as asthma. 

“No,” you whispered, rubbing at the spot in your chest where a mix of discomfort and a heavy-rock-feeling sat. 

“And you’re sure you don’t need to go to the hospital to get checked out?” He sounded concerned now. 

“No,” you repeated, staring up at your ceiling, your vision blurring with building tears. All you wanted to do was give this helpline thing a shot since nothing else seemed to be working, and here you had gone and made it so much worse. On top of that, you were frustrated that you couldn’t even do something as simple as answer a person when they said hello on a phone call that you made to them. What was wrong with you? 

“Okay. That’s good. Why don’t I talk for a minute so you can relax?” A tear slipped down your cheek when you realized he must have heard your heavy exhales over the phone. “Like I said before, my name is CJ. I’ve been with the helpline for a while now. I’m here four days a week. I try to schedule shifts around my classes and pick up a few extra when I’m able. Before you called, I was doing some reading for my Philosophy class. It’s not my major but I had to take another humanities course. It was that or religion so…philosophy it was.”

You closed your eyes and focused on his voice. It was actually very soothing and it was helping.

“Between you and me, I’m not the best student.” Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling, listening intently. “I mean, I do okay in terms of grades, but I’m not exactly a frequent flier on the Dean’s list.” He chuckled and after a moment, he asked, “How about you?”

You swallowed, feeling the slightest bit of easing up on your chest, almost if it was allowing the words through. “I do okay.” You didn’t sound as raspy as before but you still had a faint wheeze at the end. You were coming out of this, slowly but surely.

“That’s good. College sure isn’t easy, by any means. When midterms roll around, I always get a little more stressed. I usually have to blow off some steam to keep it all balanced, you know? Or else I get easily overwhelmed. I have to remind myself to take it one class at a time, one day at a time. But easier said than done sometimes, right?”

“Right.” You knew what he was doing but since it seemed to be helping, you played along. He was getting to the heart of the issue while also giving you time to come back down. You’d only been on the phone with him for close to ten minutes and already you felt much better than you had when the call started. 

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

“A little.” 

“Good.” He sounded genuinely pleased. “Is my being the one to talk helping any?”

“Actually…yeah,” you breathed out. 

“Does this happen a lot?”

You bit at your lip, not really wanting to admit it, but you had called for this very reason, hadn’t you? “Yeah.”

“Around midterms or anytime?”

“Anytime.”

“Even when you’re not in school?”

“Sometimes,” you whispered. “But mostly when I’m here.”

“So school related then?”

“Kind of.”

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered if you had said something wrong or if he was looking instructions up in a pamphlet or something for this sort of thing. 

“Hey, did you see Phantom Menace when it came out last year?”

That caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected to switch gears so quickly. “Um, no?”

“You’re not a Star Wars fan, I take it?”

He didn’t sound disappointed so you chalked that up to being a good thing. Most guys you’d met either were completely into Star Wars or weren’t into it at all. “I don’t know if I’d call myself a fan but I’ve seen the original movies.” 

“Uh oh, you’re not one of those prequel snobs, are you?” He teased.

“No? I just saw the trailer and I wasn’t interested.”

“Well, a buddy of mine and I went to see it when it came out. The theater was packed. I’m talking bursting at the seams.” A small smile started to creep onto your face at his energy. “And when the lights went down and the opening credits started rolling and the music started up, everyone was cheering and clapping. It was pretty awesome. My buddy ended up loving it. He’s the biggest Star Wars fan you’ve ever met.” A moment later he asked, “So besides anything in a galaxy, far far away, have you seen any other movies that came out?”

“I went to see The Green Mile. My, uh, my dad is a big Tom Hanks fan and a Stephen King fan so he really wanted to go.”

“And you?”

“I liked it. Though it was sad.” 

“I didn’t see it yet but I got the feeling that it was going to be a bit of a heavy one.”

“It was, but it was worth it.” You noticed then that you were talking to him normally, you were breathing normally, your chest was still a little tight but that was to be expected, and you were sitting up with your back to the wall. You had gotten through your latest episode and this CJ had helped. Perhaps there was something to this helpline thing after all.

“I’m definitely going to check it out then. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Almost as if he had heard your thoughts, he then said, “You sound a lot better than earlier. Hopefully, you’re feeling better, too?”

“Um, yeah.” You anxiously tucked your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You know, being patient…”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Right.”

“So, you feel up to telling me what’s going on and why you called tonight or did you want to talk about something else?”

You bit at your thumbnail, unsure. “I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time already.” You glanced at the clock and saw that you had been on the phone with him now for almost half an hour. 

“Don’t worry about the time and I don’t want you feeling badly.” He sounded completely genuine when he said it and it made you feel a little bit better about monopolizing his time like this. “This is why I’m here. So, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen.”

You still weren’t certain you should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure? What if there’s someone else who needs to call in who is having an actual crisis and you’re stuck on the phone with me? I would feel bad if they didn’t get to talk to you when they needed to because of me.”

“I’m not the only one here so if someone else does call in, they’ll speak to one of the other counselors who can help them. While we’re on the subject, what you’re experiencing is just as valid as what anyone else might be experiencing. I’m not stuck on the phone with you, I want to be talking with you and try to help you in any way I can. And yes, I’m sure.”

You contemplated it, turning it over and over in your brain. This was why you called. This was why you decided to give the helpline a try, to speak to a stranger who would listen and possibly be able to help you and if not, at least maybe understand where you were coming from. If he was willing (and he had been helpful so far), then why not?

“Would it help if I promise not to make any more Star Wars references?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Tremendously.” 

“Deal,” he laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh; it was warm, inviting, and put you instantly at ease. This CJ seemed to know what he was doing and you could now see why people called in to speak to him and other counselors like him. 

You nervously licked your lips and decided to take the plunge. You told him everything. You told him about how it started when you began college, how the classes and workload immediately overwhelmed you. How you struggled to keep from drowning in assignments and tests and projects and papers. How you started to develop these episodes and how badly you felt during them. How you had tried to talk to your parents but they just didn’t seem to hear you, dismissing it as an issue that would be resolved by you being more outgoing and feeling more grateful that you had such an educational opportunity when many didn’t. How you could be in a room full of a hundred people and still feel completely alone, especially when an episode kicked in. You’d even told him about your failed attempt at attending the frat party. He had rarely talked, giving you the floor, but he had interjected a couple of times to either support you or make some helpful suggestions. Other than that, he just listened. By the time you finished, you felt like you had told him your whole life story, but you had to admit that you felt a lot better once you got it all off your chest, which incidentally, was feeling lighter. And this time, someone listened and actually heard you. That made all the difference.

You glanced at the clock for the first time in a long time and noted it was 10:16. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your cheeks immediately heating up. Had you really been talking nonstop for over three hours? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. I should let you go so you can speak to other callers.”

“My shift ended fifteen minutes ago actually.”

Your heart stopped and however much better you’d been feeling, felt like it went right down the drain. How could you have been so self-absorbed and only concerned with your problems that you’d talked his ear off and used up his whole shift? Not one other person got to talk to him tonight and you didn’t even go to that school. Seriously, how selfish were you? “I-I’m so, so sorry. You should have stopped me or told me there was a time limit per call.” You were full on babbling now. “I didn’t mean to— I am so beyond sorry. I’m going to let you go. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a good rest of your night. Don’t worry. I promise I won’t call again. Good night.”

You went to hang up the phone when you heard loudly, “Please don’t hang up.”

You put it back to your ear, your brows drawing together in confusion. “But you said your shift was over.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “But that’s okay. If I wanted you to stop talking, I would have said something. And did I ask you to stop?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I didn’t want you to stop talking. It seems like there’s a lot on your plate at the moment or else you wouldn’t have called, right?”

“Okay, yeah. But—”

“So it’s good that you called and I’m glad I was able to help. And for the record, there’s no time limit on a call.” Someone said something to him in the background and he quietly responded though you couldn’t hear what he said. “I’m actually gonna get going because my replacement is here and they don’t have another place to sit.” 

“Right. Of course. Again, sorry.”

“But,” he continued. “I’m going to be here Monday afternoon around 2 so if you want to call back then we can talk again.”

“I have class then.” You truly did but even if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be calling him back. You had taken up enough of his time.

“I’m here until 6:00 that day.”

“I have a study session after that class.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. “But I appreciate the offer. Thank you and have a good—”

“I’m back on again next Friday. Same time. Why don’t you call me then if you’re free?”

“I appreciate it, CJ, but don’t worry. If I need the helpline again, I’ll call, but you helped me a lot tonight and I feel better so…I won’t need to call. Again, I’m sorry I monopolized your shift.”

“Do me a favor and call me again anyway, even if you are feeling better. I’d like to check in with you and the only way I can do that is if you call me back.”

“Right. Being anonymous and all,” you mumbled. Thank God for that. You didn’t think your embarrassment at talking his head off for over three hours while you complained about your life would ever go away.

“Yeah. So, please, if you can call me next week, same time, even if you just tell me you’re feeling better and hang up. That’s all I ask.”

You supposed you could do that, after he’d generously taken the time to hear you out, after he’d helped you through your episode. “Okay.”

“Friday, 7:00. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

And so had begun the tradition of you calling him every Friday night at 7:00. You hadn’t intended for that to happen, honestly. But each time you would talk to him, ranging in times from twenty minutes to an hour and a half (you refused to ever get near that three hour mark again, no matter what he said), he would always ask you to call him back the following week, making you promise that you would. Over time, you noticed that your overwhelmed feeling had lessened considerably (though not completely gone) and instead of having an episode (or panic attack as CJ called them) twice weekly, they had now diminished to one every couple of weeks. And even then they weren’t as bad as they had been, thanks to the techniques CJ suggested you try using. Things had gotten better for you and you had to admit, the helpline definitely was a useful service for students, though for your own personal experience, you attributed a lot of that to CJ.

Speaking of which, that was how you two began to get to know one another, moving from strictly counselor and caller into a tentative friendship. When initially speaking to him, he began to feel like a friend you were just catching up with on how your past week had been, and then it actually sort of became that. He started to tell you more details about himself and now you knew what type of music he liked, what he was majoring in, where he had grown up, and why he had joined The Stand. He had even shared his backstory with you and why he didn’t drink when you told him how uncomfortable college parties made you in general. The conversation was no longer one-sided and you’d come to like it that way.

Until the day came when he asked your name. 

“My name?”

“Well, yeah, so I know what to call you. It feels weird calling you “you” all the time,” he laughed.

“Um…” You were practically crapping bricks. You didn’t expect this.

“Just your first name. You’ll still be anonymous,” he reassured. “It could be a nickname if you want. Or your middle name. Just something.”

You ran over it in your mind. What if he still somehow managed to find out who you were if you gave him only your first name? Sure, you weren’t going to the same schools, but what if somehow someway…? Plus, your friends weren’t exactly fans of CJ right now. Apparently, Jen had a major crush on him but her hopes were dashed when he told her he didn’t date (something he had told you long before you heard it via your friends) and then hooked up with Audrey the same night. You hadn’t been there that night, opting to stay in and study for a huge test you had coming up in your Lit class, and after hearing that not only had CJ been present but also what happened, you were glad you had made that decision. Audrey and Joey were on the outs thanks to the events of that night and now so were Jen and Audrey once it was revealed that CJ and Audrey had slept together, right before Pacey punched his face in. 

When that Friday rolled around, you almost didn’t call him. You were angry and hurt yourself. Angry because his careless actions had hurt more than one of your friends, and hurt because truth be told, you had started to crush on him yourself from afar. You trusted him with the details of your life, very personal details (without giving specifics obviously), and he’d helped you. How could he be this helpful, compassionate guy working at a helpline but turn out to be this scummy, advantage-taking, selfish player? You couldn’t reconcile in your head the CJ you were getting to know with the CJ your friends saw.

“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” Jen told you when you wondered aloud how a helpline counselor could do something like he had with your friends. “Most people who go into those positions to help other people are usually a thousand times more screwed up than the people they’re helping. Audrey’s been hurting, as you know, and she’s been acting out and he saw an opportunity. Case closed.” But it wasn’t case closed for you. Not by a mile. You wanted answers, but how could you get them while remaining anonymous?

So that following Friday at 7:00, as you angrily punched in the helpline number, you had no idea how you would do it but you were determined to get them. And if you didn’t like what you heard, then this would be your last call and you would close the book on CJ and your budding friendship for good.

It caught you off guard, though, when you heard a different voice this time.

“Hello, Helpline. This is David.”

You nearly hung up. You knew David; he was starting to hang out with your group more and more, especially Jack. What if he recognized your voice?

“Hello?”

You forced yourself to ask the burning question on the tip of your tongue, albeit with a slightly higher pitch of voice. “Hi, is CJ there?”

“No, I’m sorry.” You covered the mouthpiece with your hand and let out a sigh of relief. Whether it was because David didn’t recognize you or you didn’t have to confront CJ right this second, you couldn’t be sure. Probably a bit of both. “He called out sick and asked me to fill in for him. He should be back next week, though.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll call then. Thank you.” You quickly hung up before he could ask you anything else.

The next Friday you called, you got CJ.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding relieved when he heard your voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” You were standing in your dorm room, staring out the window and watching the rain, your arms crossed. You weren’t as angry as last week, the extra time allowing you to let a cooler head prevail, but you still wanted answers. “How are you?”

“Honestly? I’ve been better.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were sick last week. Has it not gotten any better?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was feeling lousy and just needed to take a day, you know?” And he didn’t need to be parading around a still-healing black eye that might prompt questions, you bet. 

“I get that.”

“God, I wish I had your number outside of this so I could call you.” Your jaw tightened. Perhaps your friends were right; there was a whole other side to him. A side you didn’t really want to get to know. “I really could’ve used a friend to talk to.”

You unclenched your jaw when you realized he wasn’t hitting on you and when you thought about it, he sounded genuinely miserable and he never had in any of your previous conversations, even when your friendship formed. It was unlike him, or at least the CJ you had gotten to know. Just like this behavior your friends had told you about sounded unlike him. “Well, I’m here now, if you want to talk.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make this about me. You called in to talk, not to hear about my problems,” he laughed, sounding nervous. That was a first.

“I’m sure. What are friends for?”

He told you everything while not naming anyone. He didn’t hold back anything and you realized that while he didn’t know who you were, he was giving you the side that had been missing from the story your friends told you: his side. Every side has a story after all. He admitted he had messed up big time. He had hurt Jen (or Blondie as he called her), he had been an ass to Pacey (or The Guy Who Punched My Face) when he had no right to be, and he should have never hooked up with Audrey (or The Girl That Came Out of Nowhere). Apparently, Jen had said to him the same thing she said to you and it got him thinking, along with some things Audrey had said. He felt like a huge jerk and all he wanted to do was keep his head down and move forward, get back on the right track that his life had been headed in. You stayed silent as he talked and before you knew it, the clock read 9:47. 

“Your shift is over soon,” you whispered once he was done.

“Yeah, but I still have a few minutes. So what do you think? Am I a complete jackass or what?” He let out another nervous chuckle.

You briefly pressed your lips together as you thought of how best to answer that. In the end, you were as honest as you could be without giving yourself away. “I think we all make mistakes sometimes. But as long as we recognize them, apologize to those we’ve hurt, and try to do better, then that’s all that matters. So no, not a complete jackass.” 

This time when he laughed, it sounded relieved. “Thanks.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for,” you repeated his words back to him, teasing him slightly.

A moment of silence passed between you before he asked, “Will you call again next week?”

That made you do a double take. He never asked you to call the following week like that. Usually he asked in the form of making you promise you would call or he’d tell you he’d talk to you the following week. But when he asked like this, he sounded uncertain, vulnerable. You knew then that more than just his face and ego had been hurt by recent events. Perhaps you were a fool but you believed his remorse to be genuine. 

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’ll call next week.”

And when you did, he immediately hit you with the name question. 

“Earth to you…” He called, snapping you out of it and reclaiming your attention. “See? It doesn’t really work,” he laughed.

You had to be careful here. Not only because you didn’t want him to find out who you were but also because if your friends ever found out, especially Audrey…you were toast. 

You opened your mouth to give him the name of a classmate that couldn’t be traced back to you but “Jo” came tumbling out instead.

“Jo?”

Oh crap. You had Audrey and then Joey on your mind and it just slipped out. Crap, crap, crap. “Yeah,” you lied. “Jo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jo.” You could practically hear him smiling, happy to have gotten a name out of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, angry with yourself. “Nice to meet you, too,” you mumbled before you dropped your head into your hands.  

So now here you were, him thinking you were Jo from the college he was attending, and you were calling him every single week at the same time like clock work. You had long ago stopped questioning the morality of what you were doing and it seemed that he didn’t appear to question it at all. He was always happy to hear from you and your conversations were more personal now. You couldn’t deny the way your heart rate spiked every time you heard his voice when he picked up the call or how whenever his name was mentioned in passing by David or Jen (though rare these days), you would specifically tune in, listening for anything that had to do with him. You had it bad and you knew it, but it was also a safe crush from a distance and would be staying that way.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your reverie and remembered CJ has asked you a question. “I’m good. Really good. How about you?”

“Really good, huh? I’m happy to hear it and happy to be hearing from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I got that paper back and you were so right, The Writing Center really helped. I can’t believe I never thought to try it before. Thank you so much for that idea.”

“I’m happy to be of service,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it helped. And the club thing? Did you give that a try as well?”

Your smile dropped. He had been trying to urge you to join a club or a group where you had shared interests with other students. His theory was that if you gave a small group of people a shot doing a social activity you might enjoy, that it might help decrease your nervousness in other social settings. Even though you told him you had a group of friends you regularly met up with, he didn’t think expanding your social circles would be a bad thing to consider. “No? I told you, CJ, that’s not really my thing.”

“I get that, I do. How about this? If you want, I could meet you at Student Activities and we could take a look around together, get some info. No pressure, of course, but you wouldn’t have to walk in there alone. I know it can be a bit much sometimes. I remember my first semester here and I didn’t know where to stick my head.”

You froze. That was the first time he’d ever mentioned the possibility of you meeting in person. Perhaps if you were really Jo from Boston Bay College, you could take him up on it or give him your number like he’d asked you for or call his room number like he’d offered up a few times now so you could talk outside of the helpline. But you weren’t and so you had to decline. “I appreciate the offer but it’s not my thing so I’m going to have to pass. Sorry, but thank you, though.” 

“If you’re sure.” He sounded slightly disappointed but maybe that was just you imagining it. 

“Yep, I’m sure. Uh, so listen, I can’t stay on long. My roommate and her boyfriend will be here in less than ten so I’m gonna go so I can get out of here before I get hit by the clothes hurricane that’s most likely to happen.” It was a complete lie. Your roommate, Stacey, had actually gone to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. You would have peace and quiet and the dorm to yourself for two whole days. 

He chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t blame you. If you get bored later, I’m here at The Stand until 10:00, like you already know, and then I’ll be back in my room. You can call me then if you want to talk. I”ll be up for a while so don’t worry about calling too late.”

“Oh. Thanks. Maybe I’ll do that.” You weren’t going to and he knew you weren’t going to. You hadn’t the last two times he’d made the same offer and the last two times you’d given him the same response.

“Jo?”

“Yeah?”

“If I don’t hear from you… Call next week, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling, like always. You said your quick goodbyes and you hung up, letting out a heavy breath. While he had been urging you to contact him personally, he had never mentioned meeting him before. That was different. And it worried you at the same time. Why the offer now? Granted, he was just trying to be helpful to you, given the context, but what if he began to find other ways to work it in like he already had about your phone numbers? What if he continued to push to meet Jo? 

You shook your head, telling yourself that you were doing it again, worrying over things that might not happen. You would cross that bridge when you came to it, something CJ had once said to you that you kept for yourself as your own personal mantra. You would wait to see how next week would go.

But unfortunately, the call never happened.

You had been out with Jack and David on Thursday night at Hell’s Kitchen, when Jen waltzed in, smiling and taking a seat. Joey and Emma were working and Pacey was supposed to join you later.

“You worked late today,” Jack commented. 

“Training took a little bit longer than expected. We were supposed to be done at 6:00 but then our relief called and said they were going to be late. Of course, since CJ was going to stay, I wasn’t going to just leave him there.” Your ears perked up at the mention of CJ. You knew Jen was training as a counselor and he was the one training her. Jen had begrudgingly forgiven CJ but it was also obvious to you all that she still had a crush on him. While you couldn’t blame her, you also felt for her. CJ told you that he had to make it clear once more to Blondie that he wasn’t looking to date though he was happy she had finally started training at the helpline. He really believed she would make a great counselor once she settled into it. 

Talk about complicated. Jen was your friend and you didn’t want to see her get hurt, but you could also understand if CJ didn’t see her that way, he just didn’t. They were both your friends now and you just wanted them both to be happy, whatever that looked like.

“But then, listen to this,” she continued. “Our relief, this guy named Seth, sees me there with CJ and starts teasing him about how he’s racking up all of these beautiful girls through the helpline, not leaving any for him.”

“Jen,” Jack warned. 

“No, listen. This is good. You’re going to like this.” 

Jack sighed but let her finish.

“CJ laughs it off but then Seth mentions how he has this girl calling him every Friday night, around the same time, and she talks his ear off for hours.”

You were about to take a bite of your french fry when you froze. Your heart dropped down to your feet. 

“And so I ask if this is true and CJ says that we’re there to help everybody, time limits aren’t a thing, and it doesn’t matter how many times a caller calls back or they speak to the same counselor. As long as they get the help they need.”

“He’s right,” David chimed in.

“But then Seth starts teasing him again and asks if CJ can give him tips on how to get dates using the helpline. CJ laughs and says sure. I mention how he said he wasn’t looking to date and Seth says he tells every girl that so he doesn’t have to commit but can still get what he wants.” You dropped your fry back into your basket, trying to ignore the rolling nausea in your stomach. 

“I don’t know about that,” David chuckled nervously.

“He didn’t deny it, David. He just laughed and walked away. Can you believe it? He’s using the helpline to get girls. Talk about abusing the system, not to mention the absolute lack of morality.” You definitely felt like you were going to be sick. “I quit. If that’s what guys like him and Seth are using that helpline for then I don’t want any part of it. And CJ? Audrey was right. He’s a skeevy player. I can’t believe I didn’t see it this whole time.” Jen shook her head. You were getting that all-too familiar falling feeling again. 

“Wait, seriously? Guys are using the helpline to pick up girls?” Jack turned to David.

“No. Jen, I’m sure Seth was just kidding and CJ was just playing along. Nobody is using the helpline to pick anyone up. Everyone that works there knows the rules and they’re there to help callers. How could they pick anyone up, anyway? It’s all anonymous.”

“Yeah, but if they pushed for a date or something… It could happen.” You immediately felt your stomach jolt and like someone had punched you in the gut at the same time.

“It could,” David agreed. “But I doubt it does.”

“He has the same girl calling him every single week at the same time. What would keep her calling like that?” Jen interjected. You glanced away from the table for a moment, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer David would give.

“Is that true? Every week?” Jack asked in disbelief.

“It’s true,” David confirmed. “I actually got her once when CJ was out sick. She sounded nice.” If you could have, you would have given him a smile, thankful for David’s attempt to defend CJ and the helpline and unknowingly you. But right then, you were trying not to hyperventilate. “And CJ appears to be helping her. He said she’s made a lot of progress since they started talking.”

“He talked to you about her?” Jen looked shocked. Oh God. Your chest started to feel tight.

“Only because he was going to be out sick that one day and in case she called and then decided to talk to me, he wanted me to be up to speed in case she needed something. That’s all.”

“I feel badly for this girl. She probably thinks CJ is some great guy and she can trust him but based on what Seth said, he’s simply playing the long game with her. A girl whose trust he’s taking advantage of. I’m telling you, Audrey was right about him and I should’ve seen it.” Jen rubbed at her forehead. It was beyond hot in here and even though it wasn’t crowded, the room started to feel smaller.

“I don’t think that’s true, Jen,” David defended. “I don’t think he’s looking to take advantage of this girl at all. I think he truly wants to help her.”

“Yeah, that’s how it started with Audrey and look at how that turned out.” David dropped his gaze to his food, continuing to poke at it with his fork. There wasn’t much he could say to that though he wished he still would. “And if that’s true, he only wants to help her, then why was he laughing along when Seth talked about her and how she keeps him on the phone for hours? How is that helping her?”

You felt like your feet were locked in cement but your legs were wobbling to and fro. And yet you also felt like a large boulder was now sitting on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. How could any of this conversation be happening right now?

Jack glanced from David to Jen. “Perhaps David’s right, Jen. Maybe he was just playing along. That’s what guys do sometimes. You know that.”

“I don’t think that’s what that was. Either way, I quit.”

Jack and David started to urge her not to quit, but at that point you’d had enough. Your hands were clammy and you felt that feeling on your forehead, too. You needed cold, and air. “Excuse me,” you nearly rasped out and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. You could feel your dinner coming back up. Joey stopped you in your trek.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

You shook your head and dodged past her, hurrying to the bathroom. Once you reached it, you locked the door and pushed into a stall just in time. You emptied the contents of your stomach and once you were finished, you made your way towards the sink, splashing cold water on your face. You could feel the panic attack you were having and you tried your best to ward it off but to no avail.

You slid down the wall and struggled to breathe, trying the techniques CJ had taught you. You didn’t want to think about him right now but you also didn’t want to be having this happen while your friends sat right outside. Not to mention, you knew Joey was going to come check on you. You gasped for air and rubbed at your chest. Once it passed, you unlocked the door, made excuses to Joey and your friends, went home, showered, and cried yourself to sleep. For the first time in a while, you’d had a particularly bad episode and ended the night in tears: two things you hadn’t done since you’d started talking to CJ regularly. You felt as if all the progress you’d made was like a house of cards that fell to the ground after one card was pulled out from under you. And all because you’d trusted the wrong person. 

So you stopped calling and instead, spent your Friday nights at the library, studying, so you wouldn’t be tempted to pick up the phone and call to confront the guy who’d betrayed your trust.

A few weeks later, you were sitting on Joey’s bed, watching Audrey unload her closet onto her mattress. Apparently, she was going to rehab, for real this time. She was ready to confront the fact that her drinking was out of control. Joey was helping her sort through everything and handed you things to fold and place in her suitcase. Eddie had already taken one heavy suitcase down to the car, along with a very high Bob. 

You all looked up when there was a polite knock on their dorm room door. Joey got up to answer it, most likely thinking it was Eddie, but when she opened the door, it revealed another guy altogether.

There stood CJ, in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a jacket covering his tall frame. Your heart skipped a beat before falling into your stomach but then leaping back into place and pounding faster than before for a whole other reason. You immediately grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and began sifting through it, your jaw clenched and you refusing to look in his direction.

Before anyone could say a word, Audrey groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw CJ hold up a placating hand in her direction. “I’m not here for you, okay? I’m actually looking for someone.”

You froze.

“I bet you are,” Audrey grumbled.

Joey crossed her arms. “Who?”

“A girl by the name of Jo who lives in this building.”

You mentally cursed yourself. You knew you had let the name of your dorm building slip once by accident but he hadn’t appeared to have heard you so you thought you were in the clear; apparently, he had heard you. Crap.

Joey tensed. Uh oh. You had a feeling this was going to come back to haunt you at some point. Here it was. “Why are you looking for me?”

CJ’s brow drew together. “You’re Jo?”

Audrey was suddenly at Joey’s side. “Yeah, why are you looking for her?”

“Jo is a girl who called the helpline. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I just wanted to check on her.”

Her distaste for CJ forgotten, Audrey turned in shock to her roommate. “Joey Potter, you called the helpline?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous, Audrey.” Joey then looked at CJ. “I don’t know who this girl is but it’s not me. Good luck in your search.” She went to close the door but CJ stopped her.

“Wait, so you’ve never heard of a girl named Jo who lives in this building?”

“No,” Audrey snapped. “Now, go away.”

“Hold on a second. Because Joanna Martin who lives on the 2nd floor isn’t her and has never heard of her. Now you’re saying you’re not her and you’ve never heard of her either?”

Audrey gave him a nasty smirk. “Imagine that. A girl using a fake name calling an anonymous helpline. She probably knows what a sleazeball you are and didn’t want you stalking her. If she was calling the helpline, she’s probably got enough on her plate. Best of luck, Stalker Boy.”

Audrey went to shut the door in his face but again, he stopped it.

“I don’t really care what you think of me. You want to think I’m the bad guy in everything that happened with us? That’s fine. But I’m actually trying to find this girl to help her.”

“Help her into your bed, you mean.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, I bet it is but whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes and turned back to you. “Y/N, have you ever heard of this girl he’s looking for?”

Your eyes snapped up to them and all three of them were now staring at you, waiting for your answer. Crap. CJ was looking right at you. Double crap. You shook your head and went back to your magazine. 

“There you go. No one here has heard of her. Buh-bye now.” 

Audrey was closing the door when Joey’s phone started to ring. Joey, who had gone back into the whirlwind of clothes, looked over at you. “Hey, can you get that? Eddie might be calling from his cell phone.”

You nodded and picked up the line. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to Joey? Audrey’s friend, Bob, is getting a little impatient down here.”

“Sure. One sec.” You handed the phone to Joey. “It’s Eddie.” She took it and began rolling her eyes when Eddie was most likely telling her the same thing he had just told you. She came over, zipped up the suitcase you had been working on after dumping more things into it. “Do you mind taking this to Eddie downstairs? He’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Sure thing.” You tossed the magazine back onto the night stand and grabbed the suitcase handle, picking it up and placing it on its wheels. You slipped your worn paperback copy of your book into the back pocket of your jeans, intent on returning it to your room when you came back up. Now that you knew CJ was trying to track you down and he was in the building, you didn’t feel comfortable having any clues pointing to your identity out in the open like that. 

You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and began to pull it along. “Oh my God, Aud. Do you really need this many outfits?” 

She looked up from her cell phone and gave you a smile. “Of course. Rehab is bound to be drab so I’m going to make it fab.” She shot you a wink and opened the door for you. 

You laughed and shook your head, crossing over the threshold. You made your way to the elevator and pushed the button. While you were waiting, you heard behind you, “Need some help with that?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. CJ was right there, behind you, talking directly to you. While a part of you wanted to tell him to take a hike, your desire for anonymity was greater. You turned and gave him a wan smile, shaking your head. His green eyes were intent on you and you didn’t care for that one bit. It was like he knew who you were without you even having to say it. Luckily, at that moment, the elevator dinged and the door opened. You went to roll the suitcase onto it when a hand picked it up out of nowhere.

“Let me give you a hand,” CJ offered, not waiting for you to reply and stepping into the elevator. You paused for a moment, considering not getting onto it with him but Eddie was expecting you and Joey and Audrey were waiting for you to come back. You let out a quiet sigh and stepped inside, hitting the button for the Lobby and waiting for the doors to close.

Once they did and you started descending, CJ glanced over at you. “So, Jo, were you planning on ever calling me again?”

Your heart started to pound but you forced yourself to remain cool as a cucumber, hoping he wouldn’t recognize your voice. You arched a questioning brow up at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but my name’s Y/N. Sorry to disappoint.” You turned back to the door.

“The Green Mile book in your back pocket says otherwise.”

Crap. You tried to think quickly. “That’s just a book I’m reading for class.” You decided to channel Audrey, the queen of mean when she wanted to be; perhaps that would get him to leave you alone. The doors were opening and you turned to give him a smirk. “NIce try, though, Sherlock. Better get back to Watson before he misses you.” You grabbed the tail of the suitcase and nearly stormed out of the elevator. 

CJ was suddenly at your side. “I know it’s you. Why are you trying so hard to act like it’s not?”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore him. Thankfully, Eddie came into sight, rushing to get the suitcase. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He picked it up and gave you a look. “About how many more of these are coming down, do you think?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. She has a lot of outfits. Joey’s got her work cut out for her.”

Eddie groaned and then noticed CJ standing next to you. “Good to see you again, man.”

“Likewise.”

Eddie glanced between you and CJ before walking away. Great. He was bound to mention that to Joey who would most likely question you about it later thanks to CJ’s impromptu appearance earlier. You spun on your heel and headed back to the elevator, punching the button.  

CJ was suddenly next to you. “What happened? Why did you stop calling?” He quietly asked you. 

You didn’t answer him, just kept staring straight ahead, your jaw clenched.

He leaned in slightly, his voice even quieter. “Did I make you nervous by offering to meet you? I was only trying to help. Nothing funny, I promise.”

When the doors opened, you stepped inside and of course, he followed you. The doors closed and your ride up began. 

“Are you going to talk to me or just keep ignoring me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know your voice. It’s you.” After another quiet moment, he begged, “Would you please just talk to me? What happened?”

You shook your head.

“Something obviously happened to make you stop calling. So, talk to me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You glared over at him. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please stop bothering me.” CJ looked as if you’d slapped him for a moment and you felt guilty but then you immediately remembered what Jen had said that night at the bar. 

He gave you a curt nod and turned to face the door. Once it opened, you went to step out when he lifted the book out of your back pocket. 

“Hey! Give that back!” He held it out of your reach, opening it to find the note from your dad on the inside page that he’d written after he bought it for you. Why did you have to mention that in your phone conversations? That was a dead giveaway that yes, Jo was indeed you. How could you have been so stupid?

CJ gestured to the note. “Tell me again how it’s not you.”

You snatched the book out of his hands and hurried down the hall to your room. You would’ve gone back to Audrey’s and Joey’s room, but you were afraid he’d out you to them. Even if they didn’t believe him, you still remembered Audrey’s reaction when she thought it might be Joey for a moment and the latter’s response. 

“Y/N, wait,” CJ begged behind you. “Please, can we just talk for a minute?” You were unlocking your door when he was right next to you. “Just one minute. Please. That’s all I’m asking. Then, if you want, you’ll never see or hear from me again.”

You mulled it over for a moment. You could do one minute, you supposed, and get this over with. You glanced up at him and nodded, pretending not to see the relief that filled his expression. You opened the door and then held it open wider for him to follow.

You saw your roommate sitting on her bed, talking on the phone to her boyfriend. “Stace,” you interrupted. “Can you give us a minute?”

She frowned. “I’m kind of in the middle of—”

“I need the room.” Your tone brooked no argument. You surprised her; usually, you kept to yourself and never really stood up to her if she got mean or demanding. But you were not in the mood for any of her crap right then. You were at your limit.

Stacey scoffed but got to her feet. “One second, babe.” She glared at you, which you were more than happy to return, and then turned it onto CJ as well. “Boys aren’t allowed to stay up here so make it quick. You know the rules.”

You huffed out a snort. “The rule you break almost every other night? Got it, Stace, thanks for looking out.” You practically shut the door in her scowling face. You turned to find CJ’s eyes trained on you.

“So that’s the roommate, huh?” You shrugged. “Exactly how I pictured her, scowl and everything.”

You didn’t laugh at his joke and instead, crossed your arms. “You wanted to talk?”

He pressed his lips together and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why did you stop calling?”

You wanted to tell him the truth but it also seemed best to just get him out of there as soon as possible. He knew who you really were now and that was a problem. Especially if your friends found out you were the girl that had been calling him every week. Because sooner or later, they would want to know why and you weren’t ready to talk about that or have them look at you funny. You knew they’d be supportive, especially Joey and Audrey, but you also knew things would change. And you weren’t quite ready for that to happen. 

“I’ve been doing better so there was no need. You should know, you made me your pet project after all.” You didn’t mean to be harsh but you were still angry. 

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“You know. I’m the girl who calls you every week to talk your ear off and keeps you on the phone for hours. The girl you’ve supposedly been trying to pick up through the helpline, though apparently I’m not the only one.”

His eyes widened. “Y/N, that’s not true at all. I don’t use the helpline to pick up girls or try to get dates. I don’t date, you know I don’t. I don’t know who told you that but it’s not true.”

“But the other part is?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Because that’s how your buddy Seth put it, the way Jen tells it.”

CJ huffed out a mirthless laugh, rubbing at his forehead and giving a nod. “Jen. That’s who you heard this from.”

“Don’t even,” you snapped. “David also mentioned how you told him all about me and my issues.” You used quotation marks on the last word.

His hand dropped. “Okay, first off, you don’t have issues, no more than anybody else around here, myself included. Second, I only told David because I was going to be out that one night. I wanted to make sure if you called in that you were taken care of. That’s it. David is one of our better counselors, he’s a friend, and I trust him completely.”

Your jaw tightened. “That still doesn’t explain why Seth would even say anything like that. And you laughed! You stood there and laughed as this guy, who I don’t know by the way, is turning me calling you for help into a joke! Is that what I am? The joke at the office? Does everyone there know how I’ve been calling you every week and boring you to death with my problems?”

“What? No! You’re not a joke. And you’re not—”

“Really? Because it sure sounded like it to me based on what Jen said.”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. You’re not boring me to death when you call, you’re not talking my ear off, or keeping me stuck on the phone with you, or anything else that someone else might have said. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to be there for you and try to help. Then when we started talking about more than that, I wanted to talk to you even more. If I didn’t want to talk to you at all, if you were such a nuisance, then why would I ask you to call back every week or give you my phone number even?”

“But you weren’t trying to pick me up.”

“No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be available to you if you needed to talk to me outside of the hours I had at The Stand.”

“Yeah, because I was your pet project.”

“No, you weren’t and why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not.” 

“Isn’t that what you do, though? Isn’t that why you tracked me down? Isn’t that why you kept trying to get my number and even suggested we meet though the helpline’s supposed to be anonymous? You look for girls who are messed up and try to be their white knight. It gives you some sort of satisfaction, some twisted sense of purpose… That’s what happened with Audrey, right?” Again, he looked like you slapped him but this time, you didn’t feel guilty. You were only speaking the truth. He had told you how much he wanted to help Audrey and how somehow they ended up in bed together and before he knew it, he really liked her and wanted to see more of her. In the end, he’d admitted to you that it might have been him confusing his desire to help her with his interest in her. That maybe Audrey had been right in what she’d said.

You watched as his shoulders deflated slightly and he let out a heavy breath, hanging his head. You bit your lip and glanced away from him, not wanting to see him look so defeated. You had to be strong, you had to stand up for yourself and not let him or anyone else take advantage of you. That was the silent vow you’d made to yourself after you’d cried yourself to sleep that night you found out how you were being used and made a mockery of.

“I tracked you down because I was worried,” he spoke softly. You turned back to find him staring at you, remorse radiating from him. You felt slightly bad for hurting him but you had said nothing but the truth, from his own lips. “It wasn’t like you not to call so I thought maybe something happened or maybe I made you nervous with that last call. Like I said, I gave you my number because I wanted to be there for you anytime you needed me, even if I wasn’t working. So this way you always had a way to get a hold of me if you needed to. I only asked for yours because I did like talking to you and I thought we were becoming friends. I know that’s not the norm for the helpline and it’s never happened before, to me or to anyone else that I know of, but like I said, I enjoyed talking to you. I only offered to meet you at Student Activities that day because you seemed nervous to try it alone and I didn’t want you to feel like that. I would’ve made that offer to anyone that needed it.” He nervously licked his lips. “I do like you but it has nothing to do with my wanting to help you or make sure you’re okay. I made a mistake with Audrey but I learned from it. I told you that.” He sighed before continuing. “I like you, Y/N, because you’re funny and smart and kind. Even if we didn’t meet through the helpline, I still would have liked you once I got to talk to you, once I got to know you better. That’s the truth.”

He turned to leave when he stopped suddenly. “By the way, Seth is the guy who usually relieves me on Friday nights. That’s how he knew about you calling every week. He always liked to razz me about being on the phone with you since I made him fifteen minutes late for his shift that one time. I only laughed because it was obvious he was showing off for Jen, that he likes her, and I was trying not to embarrass him in front of her. I did end up talking to him later about it, though, and asked him not to mention it again in front of her or anyone else. He agreed; he’s not a bad guy.” He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened. If you call the helpline again and want to talk to someone else, I understand. If you don’t want to call at all, I understand that, too. Just…take care of yourself, alright?”

You averted your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears building in them, and you gave him a curt nod. You only looked up again when the door snicked closed. You pretended a tear didn’t suddenly roll down your cheek and you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Though it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment, deep within your chest. 

You stared at your phone, pacing back and forth as you chewed on your thumbnail. It had been almost a month since CJ walked out of your dorm room, leaving you more conflicted than you felt prior to his arrival. You had turned his explanation over and over in your mind so much that you had begun to dream about him every night. You had more panic attacks during that time, to the point where you’d finally taken the plunge and made an appointment to see a therapist. You’d told your parents everything you’d been experiencing, making sure they heard you this time, and told them you needed help. Your mother was still annoyed with you but your father was supportive, especially when you told him that you had a group of friends you met up with pretty regularly. He agreed to help with payments for your therapy. 

You were doing better, just like you had been while talking to CJ, and the therapist had even more techniques in her toolbox that she taught you how to use. You’d even opened up to her about CJ and everything that happened with him. She was the initial reason why you were considering making a call that you hadn’t made in quite a while. 

When you saw the clock hit 7:21, you made your decision. You huffed out a breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the all-too familiar number.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

You resumed your pacing, nervous, unsure of how to say what you wanted to.

“Hello?”

You’ve got this.

“Hello?”

Just do it already. Talk to him.

“Listen, if you’re—”

“What are your plans for tomorrow afternoon?” You rushed out before you lost your nerve.

 “Jo?” You appreciated him using your fake name. “Is that you?”

“Well?” You asked.

“Uh, tomorrow? I’m free...”

“Would you…want to get some coffee? Maybe?”

“Coffee, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Jo, you’re not calling the helpline to ask me out on a coffee date, are you? Because that would be a serious misuse of this valuable resource the college provides,” he teased.       

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll just wait until Seth is on shift then and call him up to ask him instead. Thanks, though. Bye.”

“Don’t you dare,” he laughed. You lifted the phone back up to your ear. “What time and what coffee shop?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Got a pen?”

You walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early, intent on getting a table and settling in before CJ arrived. To your surprise, he was already there, waving you over. You approached, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every step. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure we got a good table.” You had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason. The worry shadowing his expression confirmed it. Did he really think you had called him up to ask him to meet you only for you not to show? Then again, you supposed you couldn’t blame him.

“Good thinking.” You gestured towards the line with your thumb. “I’m going to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”

He was immediately on his feet. “I’ll get it. You sit down. You still like lattes?”

You gave him a small smile and nodded; he remembered. 

He returned your smile. “Okay. Here, take a seat. I’ll be back in a minute.” You watched him walk over to the line as you did just that. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, but you were taking your therapist’s advice. You were moving your friendship with CJ away from the helpline and out into the real world. You were giving him another chance while also allowing both of you to start over. If CJ agreed to, that is.

A few minutes later, he returned and placed your cup in front of you. You gave him a smile of thanks and waited for him to join you.

“So,” he started once he was settled. “You called in.”

“Only to ask you to meet me,” you pointed out.

The corner of his lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me, too.” And you meant it. You were happy he’d said yes. “I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to thank you.”

His brows drew together. “Thank me?”

You nodded and began to tell him about all of the recent developments in your life, including therapy. You also apologized for how harsh you’d been the last time you saw each other but he waved it off, saying you didn’t need to and he understood. He listened intently and his smile grew when you mentioned how the therapy was helping and your panic attacks were starting to lessen. 

“I’m really happy to hear it, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re doing better.”

You bit at your lip, feeling nervous about speaking this next part. “It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t helped me the way you did, especially that first night. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured.

Your heart began to pound against your rib cage but you bravely surged forward and kissed his cheek. When you sat back in your chair, his eyes were wide and you felt your face get hot. “Sorry. I just really wanted to do that for a long time. I hope that was okay.”

He grinned. “More than okay.” You felt relief sweep through you. “I was just thinking—”

“I know. You’re not dating, and we’re friends. Don’t worry, I understand.”

He studied you for a moment before speaking again. “I was going to say ‘I was just thinking what a coincidence because there’s something I’ve wanted to do for a really long time, too.’” His hand gently covered yours and he slowly leaned in, giving you time to pull away or tell him to stop. You weren’t going to do either. 

His lips brushed gently against yours and you felt a thrill rush through you at the contact. You had imagined kissing him so many times but the fantasy did absolutely no justice to the real thing. When you broke apart but he didn’t lean back right away, he murmured, “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you whispered before pulling him back into you, both of you grinning like idiots before your lips connected again.

You stopped, seeing the front of the building you were about to go into. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked nervously.

CJ turned back to you and gave you a reassuring smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you. “Yes. We should.”

“But—”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “Trust me. I’m right here with you, okay?” He pecked your lips one more time, tightened his hold on your hand, and began pulling you forward. 

“Okay.” You didn’t sound so sure about this and truthfully, you weren’t.

CJ chuckled and led you inside. The Stand office was decorated with balloons and streamers and there was even confetti on the floor. One of the counselors was leaving since she was soon to graduate and a party was being thrown for her last day. You tried not to get overwhelmed at the amount of people filling the small space. It was overly warm in here and you could barely hear yourself think over the din of multiple conversations going on at once. Somewhere music was playing at a decent level. You noted a room in the back where through the window you could see two people sitting, talking on the phone, a closed door in between them and the noise. 

CJ intertwined your fingers and moved you both towards a group of a few people that he was intent on talking to, people greeting him as he passed. You remembered the techniques you had been taught and tried to put them into action while reminding yourself that you were with CJ and he wasn’t going to abandon you. 

He stopped and greeted the group before he turned to you smiling. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

One of the guys laughed. “Ah, so this is Y/N.” Your heart started hammering inside your chest. “CJ hasn’t shut up about you since you two started dating.” You nearly sighed in relief.

CJ shrugged, grinning down at you. “Seth’s not wrong.”

Your eyes widened before you turned back to the guy. “Oh, so you’re Seth.”

Seth beamed. “Aww, CJ, you told her about me? I just knew we had something special,” he joked.

You frowned. “Hey now. Go get your own CJ. This one’s mine.” You winked up at CJ who laughed. 

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him. “Definitely yours,” he whispered huskily. 

Seth pretended to gag. “Ugh. Young love. Gross. You can have him, Y/N.”

“Damn right I do,” you laughed as CJ wrapped himself around you from behind and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

From that moment on, it wasn’t so bad. CJ circulated around the room to different groups, introducing you each time. With him by your side, you began to feel more comfortable and you opened up bit by bit. At one point, CJ took your hand and led you away. “I want to show you something.”

“Again?” You teased. “Didn’t you already show me something back in my dorm earlier? Twice?”

“Ha ha. No, this is something different. Though there will definitely be a third time when I get you out of here and back to my place.”

“Ooo. You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Mr. Braxton.”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless. “Just a small preview for later.”

“A small preview?” You panted. You just loved teasing him and couldn’t resist.  

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Come on.”

CJ led you over to a desk and with his free hand, he swiped confetti off of the seat. “This is it. My station,” he told you.

Your eyes roamed over the computer, the keyboard, the notepad and pens, stopping on the corded phone. So this was it. This was where CJ had sat on those Friday nights during your conversations. You smiled to yourself at the memory.

You let out a squeal when CJ quickly sat down in the chair and pulled you into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from falling, glaring at his laugh. You softened though when you looked back over the desk. “So this is where you sat on those nights we talked?”

“Uh huh. Though I much prefer you here on this end with me.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and turned you to him, kissing you sweetly. You snuck your fingers into his hair and tilted your head to deepen it, not caring right then about anyone or anything else around you. 

You and CJ had been dating for a while now and it was starting to become serious. He had met your parents when they came to visit. Your dad had liked him right away. Your mom, on the other hand, had given him a bit of a hard time but underneath the harsh exterior she was presenting, you could tell she liked him, too. He had initially planned to transfer to a school in New York, which you more than supported (though you were secretly heartbroken). You reminded him that you had done the phone thing once upon a time and you could do it again, if he wanted. After contemplating it, he decided to stay in Boston. 

“Please don’t tell me you chose to stay because of me. I’m not going anywhere. If it’s a great opportunity for you, you should go. I don’t want you to regret not going.”

He’d simply smiled. “I have a great opportunity right here and I would regret leaving.” He’d kissed your nose. “Besides, Boston’s home.”

“CJ, you should go. I’m almost done and I can come visit you. It’s only a few hours’ drive. You could show me things like the Empire State Building or take me to a museum or a play or show me Times Square.” You’d tried to make it sound enticing but inside it was killing you. Everyone knew long distance relationships had their problems and who knew? Maybe he might meet someone new in the Big Apple. But you also wanted him to do what was right for him, just like you’d spoken with your therapist about. You didn’t want him to resent you later on if he didn’t take this opportunity now and you certainly didn’t want him to have any regrets. “We could even visit Jen and Jack, see how her Grams is doing.”

Jen and Jack had transferred to New York. You had been worried to tell her that you and CJ were dating but while she was a little miffed in the beginning, she was more focused on the developing situation with her grandmother who had been diagnosed with cancer. Eventually, she forgave you before she left and gave you her blessing. You had been relieved; Jen was a good person, a good friend, and you didn’t want to lose her friendship. Jack had been worried about Jen’s reaction but for the most part, he had been fine with it. David was happy for you both. Audrey was doing better these days and though she had wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by shacking up with The Sleaze (as she referred to him), she had eventually told you she loved you and just wanted you to be happy. Joey asked you if you were sure when you told her and when you assured her that you were, she pretty much said the same thing as her former roommate and gave you a hug. She gave you a look when you pulled away and you knew that she had connected the dots on who you really were to CJ, but to her credit, she mercifully never said anything. Pacey and Emma had shrugged (CJ had apologized to Pacey at some point after what happened with Audrey and they had resolved things), wishing you well. Dawson…well, you never really got to know Dawson all that well during his brief visits so no conversation needed to be had there really. All in all, your friends were supportive, even if still a little wary of how things were going to work out. You were happy, though. It was strange but shifting from friends into romance proved to be an easier transition then you thought it would be.

CJ laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going without you.” You went to speak, to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, when he cut you off. “I know what I want. I’m okay with my decision. I need you to be, too.”

You tenderly stroked his arm. “Are you sure?” You whispered, worried he was making a mistake.

“More than sure.” He then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“Okay,” you whispered to his lips before kissing him again.

And now you had met all of his co-workers at The Stand and had seen where he worked a few days out of the week. He had offered to bring you several times before, but you had been hesitant to take him up on it, still worried someone might figure out who you really were. It’s not that you were embarrassed that you had called the helpline for help, but your business was your business and you didn’t want to be seen as that girl CJ got himself through the service. You both obviously knew that wasn’t the case but people talked, people judged, and you just wanted to steer clear of both as long as you possibly could. You knew you shouldn’t care what anyone thought or said, just like CJ didn’t; it was something you were currently working on in therapy. 

“So,” you teased when he finally broke away for air. “Is there a switchboard somewhere that you have somebody directing all the girls to you when they call? Is that how I got you every single time I called?” 

He grinned. “Not exactly. I told everybody that any calls that came in on Fridays at 7:00 were mine.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“Well, how did you know I would call every single time?” You huffed out. “How do you know I might not have gotten held up? Or made plans at the last second? Or got fed up with you?”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “Because you liked talking to me. I could tell.”

You playfully swatted at his shoulder, making him laugh, and rolled your eyes. “It always amazes me that you’re able to make it through doorways with that massive ego of yours. That can’t be how you knew I would call you every time.”

His smirk grew and he nodded. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled. You didn’t really mean it and he knew you didn’t.

CJ pulled you closer up against him. “You have a weird way of showing that.” He inclined his head towards your embrace around his neck. 

“True,” you murmured and kissed him again.

“Plus,” CJ added when you pulled back. “You always said you would call back and I believed you.”

“Better,” you decided. “Though I will begrudgingly admit that I did like talking to you.”

“Like I said, I could—”

“Hush.” You covered his lips with yours and he chuckled into your mouth. When you pulled back this time, you laid your forehead against his, your eyes closed, smiling. “I love you,” you murmured.

“I love you, too” he whispered back to you, lifting up to press a kiss to your brow before you buried your head into his neck and he discreetly snuck his hands under your shirt to rub your back, just the way you liked. 

“Want to get out of here?” He asked you after a few minutes had passed.

“Mmm.” You lifted your head to look him in the eye. “No Fleetwood Mac this time, though.”

He laughed and helped you to your feet. “What have you got against one of the greatest bands of all time?”

“Nothing. It’s just weird to listen to that chorus when we’re about to…you know.” You could feel your cheeks starting to warm.

He grinned salaciously at you. “Oh, I know. Hey, at least it’s not the Star Wars theme.” He snickered at your glare and picked up your hand, kissing it. “No Fleetwood Mac tonight. Got it.” He intertwined your fingers and his grin softened into an affectionate smile before he led you out of there. You quickly made your goodbyes and hurried back to his place where he kept his promise of no rock group music track playing along to your own soundtrack. 

Later, as CJ slept, you repeatedly ran your fingers through his messy hair in soothing strokes as you studied him. Who knew calling the helpline that one Friday night would lead you here? Where you were happy, in love, and doing much better than you ever thought possible? You had gone from feeling overwhelmed by your education to feeling a different type of overwhelmed together. Overwhelming love and affection for the special person in your life; overwhelming gratitude for the progress you’d been able to make in managing your anxiety and panic attacks as best you could; and overwhelming contentment with every single moment, no matter the ups and downs that was best known as life. Regardless of whatever happened from here, you knew you’d be okay and you’d handle whatever was thrown your way. Like CJ had once said, one day at a time.

In his sleep, your boyfriend reached out for you and pulled you in closer to him, snuggling into your side and burrowing into your neck, making you smile.

And to think, you almost hadn’t made that call. You laid your head against CJ’s and closed your eyes. You were so glad you did.

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[yuusishi]

Heyo! Just wondering if I can request Lilia with a S/O that likes to tease people and is a bit of a troublemaker please? If not that's perfectly ok!

Have a splendid day<3

. . . AND MAKE IT DOUBLE !

pairing : Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : none

a/n : if the title doesn't make sense it's the whole "prepare for trouble, and make it double" thang... also guess who learned how to finally put gradients on text after 2 years of writing on this account🫡🫡🫡

LILIA VANROUGE !!

oh he LOVES you.

opposites attract well matching pairs do just as much.

he's so happy to find a kindred soul when it comes to committing some tomfoolery in Night Raven College, especially towards his boys and other friends he has.

everyone knows of Lilia's habit of disappearing and reappearing behind people upside down just to give them a heart attack little scare, so adding you to the mix is just begging for mischief to ferment even more in the school.

not even brew we all know there's enough mischief in this school to start fermenting 💀

the thought of someone getting a good scare from him suddenly appearing in front of him then suddenly you pop up to give the person a double scare has Lilia giggling.

don't think of holding back on him either just because he's old, he can take a tease and prank or two! He's not an ex-general and a current gaming addict for nothing.

But every trouble has its limit before it gets serious, so Lilia hopes you know that boundary well. Though occasionally, you do have to calm each other down from taking things a little too far (cough halloween cough).

Just know that the Diasomnia gang are grateful to you for befriending Lilia (as is for every other friend he has) even if you do cause them a few headaches.

[crystallizsch]

[💝|| Yuuna Perla (they/them) ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

Night Raven College’s sole magicless student and the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. They live on campus with their only dorm member, Grim, a direbeast who wants to become a "Great Mage”. They are both enrolled as a package deal and are considered a single student.

Dorm: Ramshackle Grade: Freshman (First-year) Class: Class A (No. 9) Birthday: January 20 (Aquarius) Age: 16-18 Height: 5'6 ft / 168 cm Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Homeland: ??? Club: Gastronomy Club Best Subject: Master Chef Hobbies: Taking photos Pet Peeves: Being reminded of being magicless Favorite Food: Anything with chocolate Least Favorite Food: Anything spicy Talent: Being a fast-learner

Yuuna Perla is the flamboyant prefect who wears their heart on their sleeve and is sickeningly kind to anyone she meets (although exceptions do exist). They are generally unfazed by everything and is able to keep their head on their shoulder when necessary, avoiding conflict if they can. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t also revel in some kind of chaos if ever it arises.

[💝|| Quick Notes ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

Yuuna is my first Yuu OC!

I made Yuuna into kind of a "blank slate" so I can be more flexible with them when it comes to just random stuff.

Their birthday is also when I started playing TWST.

Overall they are somewhat my more canon-compliant Yuu (but I still add a lot of aspects that are way more biased to relationships with Heartslabyul).

Yuuna is also inspired by various Alice in Wonderland characters because I like the idea that the prefect is just "Alice" in a Twisted Wonderland.

[💝|| Random Facts ━━━━━━━━━━━━✦

💝 Usually soft-spoken and doesn't talk much, at least when it comes to people they’re not particularly close with. But the things they say can pack a punch whenever they decide to be blunt to others or simply whenever they tease those who they consider their friends.

💝 Yuuna, despite their own feelings towards another person, always chooses to be amicable. It’s no wonder why they seemingly managed to have some kind of a good rapport with most people due to their kind nature.

💝 Yuuna shares Grim's appetite, the Ramshackle duo are similar to one another in a lot of ways. On top of that, Yuuna is just very protective of him because he is basically like family to Yuuna. They would defend Grim from others no matter what.

💝 They consider Heartslabyul their second home in NRC. They love everyone the most there. Yuuna is essentially an honorary member of the dorm anyway since they always visit. They are always invited to their dorm events such as their Unbirthday parties.

💝 Yuuna has respect for Leona as an older brother -figure. After the Octavinelle incident, Yuu was more comfortable frequently crashing Leona’s room with Grim often to just “chill and hang out” (with help from Ruggie through bribery until eventually it just became normal when Leona began to mildly tolerate them).

💝 Generally the mediator and prefers to avoid conflict. However, they are not against picking a fight when necessary, especially when it comes to their friends. Every now and then as well (if the consequences aren’t too big to handle or if they could get away with it), Yuuna indulges in a little bit of chaos and tomfoolery.

💝 Yuuna only grew to like taking photos after being given the Ghost Camera. They now have the habit of taking photos of everyone and everything.

💝 Yuuna has a preference for gender-neutral terms but generally doesn’t care if they are referred to as anything else. They also like to express themself as more feminine regardless of their identity.

💝 Has no memories of where they come from but this does not bother them at all in the slightest and they don’t know why. Yuuna is more bothered by the fact that it doesn’t bother them.

-> art masterlist -> relationship dynamics (tba) -> extended lore (tba)

[rottenpumpkin13]

Lazard pranks the entire SOLDIER floor for April Fools

Sick of everyone's reign of terror during the entirety of April Fools', Lazard has enough and decides to hit everyone where he knows (and hopes) it'll hurt.

He begins by summoning a group of Thirds into his office, where they are instructed to start packing everything up and taking it down to the storage unit.

SOLDIERs get wind of this and start flocking to Lazard's office to see what's going on.

This includes The First Class trio + Zack, who look around the half empty office very concerned.

Angeal: Lazard..... what's going on.....?

Lazard: Oh? Haven't you heard? I'm being let go. Heidegger will be taking over SOLDIER from now on.

AGSZ: WHAT!!?

Lazard: Yes, it seems like the rest of the board is unsatisfied with my work. They claim I'm too lenient with you all and fail to instill proper rules and disciplinary measures.

Zack: B-But you're the best boss ever!

Genesis: Yeah! They can't take this position away from you! Come on, let's go show them what we think of their decision!

Lazard, sadly: I wouldn't do that if I were you. It appears the constant...er... tomfoolery you boys get up to is what soured their views towards me.

*Automatically everyone drops to the ground sobbing and hugging his legs*

Genesis: DON'T GO! I PROMISE WE'LL NEVER WRECK ANOTHER TRAINING ROOM AGAIN! I'LL EVEN BE NICE TO SEPHIROTH AND START HANDING MY REPORTS IN ON TIME FROM NOW ON!

Angeal: PLEASE YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH THEM! WHO ELSE AM I GOING TO GO TO WHEN I NEED ADVICE FROM AN OLDER MALE FIGURE AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE FATHER I LOST AND THE OLDER BROTHER I NEVER HAD!?

Sephiroth: YOU CAN'T LEAVE! YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE IN A POSITION OF POWER IN THIS COMPANY WHO HAS EVER BEEN NICE TO ME AND TREATED ME WITH DIGNITY AND RESPECT! YOU CAN'T LET HEIDEGGER HAVE ANY POWER OVER ME! DON'T LEAVE!

Zack: I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE BECAUSE YOU MAKE WORK MORE FUN! YOU'RE PATIENT WITH ME WHEN NO ONE ELSE IS! YOU KEEP THE BREAK ROOM STOCKED WITH RAMEN FOR SEPHIROTH AND APPLES FOR GENESIS AND TEA FOR ANGEAL AND WE LOVE YOU PLEASE DON'T GO!

*All the other Seconds and Thirds start crying and protesting too*

Lazard: Will everyone calm down? It's just an April Fools' prank. I'm not going anywhere!

Zack: You're not??

Lazard: No! And I especially wouldn't give this job up to Heidegger. At least not without a fight.

*Sephiroth stands up and wipes away his tears*

Sephiroth: That was a mean prank.

Genesis: Yeah, why would you play with our emotions like that!?

Lazard: Well for one, I didn't think you boys cared.

Angeal: What gave you that impression?

*Kunsel runs in*

Kunsel: THEIR GIVING OUT FREE RAMEN AT THE SKYVIEW HALL.

*Sephiroth tramples over everyone as he runs out of the room, which quickly empties, leaving Lazard alone*

Lazard: Gee, I wonder.

[websterss]

A TASTE OF NORMACY — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Idk if you are taking request but I just wanted to share this idea for an Anthony Lockwood x reader piece about like her meeting Anthony bc she is delivering donuts from Arif and like Lockwood keeps offering to go get more donuts or calls to get them delivered bc he wants to see her. I just needed to share the idea with such an amazing writer so thank you!

WARNING(S): Angst, fluff, mentions of bruises that’s it really. 

WORD COUNT: 6,358

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! I hope you like the direction I took this. Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Lockwood hadn’t reeled in on when he started to grow an obsession for doughnuts. Hardly a sweet tooth, but after George insisted on placing an order at Arif’s one morning. All thoughts of reason abandoned him. When he opened the front door after a continuous tap of knocks against the wood. He was rendered speechless because there stood you. A pretty girl, dawning the most adorable winter apparel, with an affectionate smile. One he reciprocated in a millisecond. His eyes had taken you all in. Only stopping so his intrusive thoughts wouldn’t get the best of him. Women were hardly his biggest enemy. He had his charm to thank for that, but why was it that when you suddenly appeared at his doorstep, that he couldn’t muster a complete sentence?

You grow flustered under his stare and let out a timid laugh. You glance down at the receipt in your hand. Reading off the name that was given.

“Hello. Is this 35 Portland Row…” You glance up at the numbering on the door. Then back to the boy who still had yet to say anything. “I have an order for George Karim.” As if he was released from an enchantment. He gasps and straightens himself out.

“H-Hello. Yes. I’m sorry. Yes, you’ve come to the right place.” He opens the door a bit wider now. His mouth tugged up into a grin. Your eyes glance away quickly. He was quite gorgeous, there was no denying that, but you knew better than to flirt with a customer. Arif would have your head if a complaint comes through, especially about the new hire. You both stand there awkwardly. The bag of delights is still in your hand. Lockwood still doesn’t seem to grasp that you're only there to deliver and be on your merry way. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. He pats down his trousers, his wallet seemingly misplaced. He shouts over his shoulder. “George, do you have any cash on you?” He turns back to you with an apologetic smile. You stand patiently waiting to hand over the bag. You hiss as a slight breeze nips at your skin. The gloves and scarf you wear hardly do their job to keep you warm, but it’s enough to satisfy you.

“Oh god, where have my manners gone? Would you like to come in? It’s quite chilly today.” You began to protest, but he’s already ushering you inside. You muster a gracious thank you. Standing in the entryway as he closes the door behind you. Your eyes lock again, and you laugh out your nerves. Hoping and praying that you don’t make a tomfoolery out of yourself. He pockets his hands in his back pockets. He observes you as your eyes dart around the entryway. You hold onto the folded edge of the bag. You bite your lips as you try to occupy your mind, as you wait for your payment. Taking in the decor and wallpaper, you smile as it provides an inviting aura. Various colors and decor that adds character to the place. As you let your eyes wander mindlessly. It doesn’t take long for you to stare past his legs. There stands behind him, a place holder with steel blades. Lockwood follows your line of sight. He’s just about ready to give a flirty remark, but is rather concerned when you beat him to talking. He lets out a light chuckle when you ask. 

“What are those?” He would have assumed you were pulling his hair, but the innocence you radiate pulls at his heart strings. Everyone would have already guessed what the weapons in the placeholder were, but you show no signs of recognizing them. Unfamiliarity creased within your narrowed brows. Oddly enough your innocence gives him something he hasn’t had in the longest time. A taste of normalcy. It wasn’t everyday where one was unfamiliar with a rapier. The most commonly used weapon to fight against ghosts. The legendary Marissa Fittes and Tom Rotwell were known to have used them first, now every agent in London utilized them. So imagine his surprise when you fail to have no knowledge of such a thing. This suddenly made him weigh his options. He had the ability to either keep your innocence intact and relieve you from the cruel reality of what living in London is like, or he could bring up your awareness as to what lurked and stalked in the night.

Were you even aware of the curfew? 

“These are rapiers.” He drew one out to showcase to you. You stepped back, surprised by the length and shine it possessed. 

“Rapiers?” The word foreign on your tongue. “What do you do with a rapier?” 

“They come quite in handy for when we need to get rid of cobwebs.” He looked over at you and threw you a wink. 

“Seriously?”

“No.” He laughed, making your shoulders relax. He paused, hesitating on telling you the truth. So he opted for a partial truth instead. “I used to fence...duel against other people.” Agents really. He grows timid. Placing the weapon back into its holder alongside with the others.

“Fence?” He would give anything to watch your eyes light up the way they did again. The corner of your lips tugged upward. “Are you any good?” 

“Is he any good-” A scoff interrupts your conversation. George comes down from the second landing. You both snap your heads towards the curly haired boy. You step back as he walks forward. “Best if you don’t get him started. He’ll go off the railings and then before you know it…he’s showing you his newspaper clippings.” Lockwood rolls his eyes. You breathe out a laugh, unsure of what newspaper clippings the now acclaimed George informs you of. He looks you up and down with a faint frown. You grow small under his narrowed eyes, but they soften. Bringing you at ease. “Are you Arif’s new girl? He usually sends out Katie for deliveries.” George exchanges with you. The fifteen quid now in your hand, and the bag of doughnuts in his. He opens the bag almost instantly, checking to make sure that his order hasn’t been mixed up. It never is though. Once he sees his double covered chocolate donut he gives a satisfied nod. He takes it out to bite down on it. Lockwood tries to stifle the laugh he can’t hold back. George remains as weird as he always is.

“Uh yeah for now at least. He said his previous employees quit all of a sudden…Something about the work hours being rough on their commute home before a curfew? I’m not so sure to be quite frank. I only really started last week. It was normally Katie at the time, she was in the process of showing me the ropes, but she just threw in her apron Monday morning. Arif’s taken a massive blow, we’ve hardly managed to make deliveries on time.” You wince. 

“Did she say why?” Lockwood grew intrigued. Crossing his arms over his chest. You shrugged, and shook your head no. He hummed in wonder.

“Afraid not. Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright…” He reassures you. “Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing one another quite often then.” You turn away, trying to figure out if he was being flirty, or if you were way in over your head. “George never misses out on his morning doughnuts with tea.” 

“I guess we will then…” You bid them a smile, then turn to the door. “It was nice to meet you George and…” You trail off. Your eyes shifting to his tall frame leaning up against the open door. He catches your want for his name.

“Anthony. Anthony Lockwood.”

“It was nice to meet you, Anthony.” Lockwood mirrors your coy smirk. You step off the last step and begin walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the shop around the corner. He finds your green gloved wave to be the most endearing and cutest thing ever. He waves back at you in a lame manner that he lets his arm fall back down to his side. When you turn your back to him, he’s yet to shut the door. George walks up beside him, munching rather loudly in his ear. 

“She was nice. I can see why Arif hired her.” George hummed.

“He’d be stupid not to have…” Lockwood kept watching as you slowly faded out of his view.

“A lot nicer than Katie too. Arif is bound to get more customers now that he's hired her.”

“I do believe Katie called you a weirdo every chance she got…This ones certainly a step up from Katie’s colorful choice of words she loved to throw around. Her social skills needed work.” He caught the slightest glimpse of you turning the corner.

“She asked about your fencing.” Lockwood turned to look at George as he heard the change in his tone. A stupid grin plastered on his face. He rolled his eyes at George’s foolish behavior. He was teasing him, reeling in on the fact a pretty girl showed up on their front doorstep, and now he couldn’t help but watch you leave. He shoved his friend away not wanting to give him the satisfaction that you may or may not have left him in a flustered state. “She called you Anthony.” 

“Oh shut it…” He sighed spacing out as he watched London move about. Taxi’s driving by and people taking a stroll before it was too dark. “You didn’t happen to catch her name did you?” He regretted asking instantly. He winced, already knowing that if he turned. He’d see George reveling smugly. And he was correct. It was as clear as the sun shining on them that morning. His stupid smirk mocking him. His face twisted with annoyance. “Forget I asked.”

“If I didn’t know any better-”

“You should.” Lockwood warned him. “It’d do you some good.”

“I’d say you fancy her?”

“I don't fancy her. I just met her. I couldn’t possibly feel something for a complete stranger.”

“So do you have feelings-”

“No! I did not say that-” He pointed at George with a stern look.

“It’s okay to admit to having feelings, Lockwood. We get it, she looked at you in a way you liked, and now you want to pursue her.”

“Pursue her? Oh god…” Lockwood's face scrunched with irritation. He ran a hand down his face to hopefully relieve him of George’s stupidity. 

“Oi, would you shut the fucking door. You’re letting the cold in!” Lucy hissed. Her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself warm. Lockwood obliged, leaning back against it. Lucy’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two. Her eyes narrow. “What’s going on with you two? What’s with all the shouting?”

“Lockwood fancies Arif’s new delivery girl.” George smirks.

“I do not-” Lockwood closes his eyes. He tries but knows his attempts will be for nothing. Once George and Lucy set their minds onto something, it will take them an annoying amount of time to surpass it. He doesn’t bother at this point. He just bangs his head back against the wooden door.

“Holy shit, Arif’s hired a new girl?” Oh now she was definitely enlightened by the situation. “Is she pretty?”

“Lockwood thinks so, don’t you Lockwood?” George and Lucy’s eyes fall onto Lockwood consistently banging the back of his head.

“Oh shit, he definitely does!” Lucy chimes in. A laugh of disbelief emits past her lips. “This is great!”

Lockwood pushes off the door and brushes past the two, making his way up to his room to escape their taunts and teasing. “I hate you both!” He calls out to them as he ascends grumpily.

“Okay, now you’ve got to tell me every little detail!” Lucy exclaims, pulling on George’s wrist in the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare, George!” Lockwood calls out from the second floor.

-

When Lockwood begins to linger on the idea of him having a liking towards you. It happens after a few more deliveries are made that he caves and wants to see you again. When he wanders into the kitchen and sees the old order of doughnuts finished, his mind is made up. The bag is weightless as he lets it fall back down onto the tabletop. He bites his lips, pondering his options. He releases a sigh knowing that he could either grab the phone and call up the shop, or make the seven minute walk over. His eyes cast over to the light falling through the window. Beautiful day, he thinks.

“Where are you off to?” George calls after him as Lockwood pushes past him, walking out the kitchen.

In a hasty response Lockwood says. “Going to get us some doughnuts. We’re out!” Then the front door slams shut behind him.

“What was that all about?” Lucy gestures to Lockwood’s exit. He gestures over her shoulder as she walks in and takes a seat in her designated chair. 

“He says we’re out of doughnuts…” George’s brows furrow. Confused since the bag still had a few left, last he recalled, but as he picked up the paper bag, no traces of the delights were to be seen.

“We’re not out. I hid the rest in the cupboard.” Lucy picks up a biscuit to bite down on. Her easy relaxed features meet George’s perplexed then turned smirk.

“Oh, you’re good!” He praises Lucy. He points at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You planned this.”

“He wasn’t going to leave on his own accord. Had to do something to make him visit Arif’s.” George only hums in response. He looks over his shoulder.

“You said you hid them in the cupboard?”

“Mhmm.” Lucy nods up. Her finger gesturing forward. “Still there. Saved you a strawberry jelly one.”

“Thanks...” George’s smile curls upward. Walking over to retrieve the flour doughed circles.

-

You were in the midst of bidding a customer a good day, and handing over their bag full of delicious choices you convinced them to try, when the shop bell chimes overhead of the door. You looked up right as a familiar silhouette swaggered in, only this time, he adorned a long black coat, and that signature smile of his you grew to know over the month of delivering to him.

His eyes remained on you, a soft grin mirroring your own as he walked up to the counter. His eyes only faltered when they cast to the display cases, then they were right back on you. He breathed out. “Hello.” 

“Hi!” You beam. Your bottom lip was hiding under your top. Your eyes shamelessly eyed him from head to toe slowly. Lockwood doing the same as he leaned on his hands he pressed against the edge of the counter. The sight of him never failed to make your heart full, and your mind gooey. You were really starting to believe that his requests for another order was to get the chance to see you. How could you not when he opened the door every time? One time you wanted to laugh in disbelief and fondness...you hadn’t even knocked yet before the door was thrown open, your hand lingered in mid air while Lockwood’s eagerness displayed rather visibly. You thought it was cute of him though. Now he was here, physically at the store, standing before you. Words weren’t your guy’s thing, staring, gazing really, seemed to describe whatever this thing between you two was. Longing and pinning for one another through looks because words seemed to fail you every time.

You hadn’t registered how long your prolonged staring towards each other went on until sweet Ms. Chide’s voice rang out behind the tall brunette. She startled you both out of your dazes. “Hello, dear it’s your turn to order.” Lockwood looked back and then down at the woman. He breathed out a laugh then turned to meet your embarrassed state. You both laughed it off quietly. Embarrassed as you both were caught staring at one another. He looked through his eyelashes, hooded eyes glistening with a mischievous glint. You weren’t doing anything explicit but you might as well been, practically drinking in the presence of the other. Lovestruck and desired lingering stares. Hardly appropriate for the public, you smirked.

“Ah yes, thank you!” He looked back at you. “It is my turn...” He trailed off slowly.

“What would you like?” You ask him. Yet you have his order memorized by this point. He gets the same thing everytime. Sometimes you wonder if he, George, and Lucy are scared to venture from their regular order. Though you like to know that they know what they want. But what exactly did Lockwood want? With you at least.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he struggles.

“I would like...well more of a want really-” He breathes out a nervous laugh. You only smile and encourage him with a nod. 

“Yes?”

“You see the real reason I came was because I-” He readjusts his stance. Unable to form a sentence. “I want...Would you like to-”

“Oh for heaven's sake!” You both turn to Ms. Chide, astonished by her outburst. “The lad wants to ask you out on a date dear.” Lockwood opens his mouth, rendered speechless. He whips his head back to you. He tries to laugh it out but he’s turned into a mess. Your eyes grow with hope and timidness. You were certainly not expecting that. 

“You want to ask me on a date?” You test the waters.

“No!” Your heart sinks for that mere second. “No, I do. That is what I want. That’s what I came here to do- just not like that.” He motions behind him, then throws the poor woman a fake smile. He turns to meet your doe eyes. “The gesture was supposed to be better handled. In some way I even hoped...romantic.” His shoulders slump. 

“Then ask me...” You shrug. The tilt of your head makes his heart flutter.

“Yeah?” His grin widens.

“Yeah!” You breathe out a laugh.

“Would you like to go on a date...with me?” 

“When?” You beam.

“When?” His eyes widened. He hoped for a yes, but now you wanted a date and time. He places his hands on his hips, and blows a raspberry. He quirks an eyebrow then smirks up at you. “When are you off?”

“Six.” You mess with the front pockets of your white apron.

“Would you like to go on a date with me at six then?” The corner of his lips lift a little. 

“I would love to.” Your eyes crinkle at the edges. Your heart feels full, and everything feels like it's going good for once.

“Will you be taking his order now, dear?” 

You try to stifle the laugh that threatens to slip out. Yours and Anthony’s eyes meet. He lets out a scoff which then is followed by a laugh. He steps off to the side, and gestures for her to take his current spot.

“You’ve been waiting very patiently ma’am, please.” Ms. Chide thanks him. 

“He’s a keeper dear. Don’t let this one slip away.” She points to no one in particular, only trying to make her point.

“I’ll try not to...” You answer her, but your eyes remain locked at the tall brunette casting you his charming signature grin.

-

Anthony’s words echo in your mind. You spent the past two hours checking your watch, hoping to see him running towards the shop to take you on an official date, but now it seems you were being stood up. You wanted to laugh at yourself.

Ms. Chide having been the one to push Anthony to ask you. Did he even want to ask you out though? You weren’t sure anymore, you were growing doubtful.

“Y/n?” Your head snaps towards Arif who was fixing the collar of the jacket he put on. Oh he was still here, you thought. He was closing tonight instead of Brian. His bewildered eyes meet your tired sleepy ones. “What are you still doing here? You should be home by now. Do you know what time it is? The warning countdown for six was two hours ago! What are you thinking, child?” You avoid his eyes, yet you know he only means well. He was the only adult figure in your life right now that seemed to care for your well being. This also meant he had the tendency to scold you for things such as not being home for curfew, which you had yet to understand why there was one to begin with. You lift your head from your palm and sit up straighter. You looked out into the darkened street through the windows. Then down to your wristwatch. It was five past eight. Anthony was nowhere to be seen. You sigh heavily.

“Thinking I got my hopes up apparently...” You mutter out in disappointment. Arif’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“I was waiting for someone, Arif.” You look up at him tiredly. Brushing your situation with a wave of your hand, a way to tell him it was nothing. “I should’ve known better. I’ll make sure I don’t miss curfew tomorrow. Swear.” You cross your heart in a playful manner. 

“You should be home, not here. It’s late.”

“Yeah so...” You shrug looking out the windows. Arif pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You just should’ve been home, Y/n. No questions asked. It’s not safe after six.”

“You keep saying it’s not safe, but you don’t tell me why.” You frown. “Why can’t someone be out after six? What’s with the damn bloody curfew?” You stand up, fed up at this point. “No one tells me anything around here!” You flail your arms around. 

“It’s just not safe out there. There’s things out there that you’re not aware of that-”

“Then tell me!” Your shoulders drop. Your trust in Arif starts to slowly dissolve as he remains quiet. His eyes averted themselves elsewhere. You nod, accepting his silence. “Fine, don't tell me...I’ll see you at home.” You grab your bag and make your way out the door. The bell chimes overheard announcing your exit.

“No, Y/n, come back inside. It’s not safe. Y/n!” Arif calls after you from the opened door. He watches you walk off into the night. No signs of life present because everyone else was safely kept inside their homes. No one, taking the risk of being out in the open and exposed to the danger that lurked. That could kill. You were vulnerable and Arif just let you walk out. “Shit!” He growls. Just as he stepped foot back into the shop, he was startled by a hand that smacked against the glass. Arif closes his eyes, hands over his heart as he tries to come back from the almost heart attack. Lockwood, clearly out of breath, pulls the door open. He gasps and takes huge intakes of air. “What the hell are you doing boy?” He scolds him.

“I’m late!” His eyes observe the dark empty shop. “I’m an idiot. I forgot about our date.” He gestures to the shop. His face pinches as he feels a burn in his lungs. He hunches over, hands on his knees. Arif was unaware of such a thing, though looking back to where you were previously sat. Your words start to make sense as they echo in his mind.

I was waiting for someone, Arif. I should’ve known better. He closes his eyes, gesturing to the front door.

“You’ve just missed her.”

“What?”

“She’s been waiting on you for two hours, Lockwood. She’s just left home.”

“She was still here?” The realization weighs in on him as he notices the table with the chair pulled out by the entrance. “She’s walking?” He starts to panic.

“You need to go after her. It’s not safe for her alone.”

“Shouldn’t you have stopped her? She was here! You of all people should know better.”

Arif refuses to meet his eyes. Anthony stands up taller. A seriousness edged in his tone as he asked. “You haven’t told her?”

“I'm surprised you haven’t.”

“I was waiting for the right time.” Anthony defends.

“And when exactly is it ever going to be the right time? When she’s on the brink of death? God, I don’t know what to do with her...” Arif lifts his head. A defeated look falls over his face. He mindlessly mumbles. “That girl came in one morning asking for a job. Nothing but a duffle and a backpack on her. Still won’t tell me what she’s running from.” This intrigues Anthony. His brows furrow. He too found you odd at times. No moral backstory from you ever. He didn’t even know where you lived until last week. Now there were questions arising.

“You think she ran from something?” A tinge of worry falls over Lockwood.

“I think that if the bruises on her forearms she tries to hide from me are anything to be concerned over. I’d say I believe she is- was.” He corrects. He walks over to your seat you filled early on and sits down.

“Bruises you say?” Anthony stiffens. 

Arif sighs and runs a hand down his face and beard. “Purple as can be. Caught a glimpse of them during one of her early on shifts. Poor child...” He trails off, dazing off, then reels back into reality ushering Lockwood away. “Go on. Before it’s too late. You’ll be able to catch her if you run. She’s gone left.” He points to the direction you walked off on.

“Thank you.” Lockwood turns on his heel, but halts hearing Arif’s voice call out.

“Tell her. Don’t keep her in the dark, Lockwood. I thought I was doing her a favor and from the looks of it I wasn’t. You’ve noticed something about her too, to want to keep her from the hell we live in. She deserves to know though, know what it’s really like living here.” Lockwood turns his head, meeting Arif’s eyes with a guilty look glossed over his eyes. 

“In due time. I swear it.” He gives a solemn nod, then pushes the front door open. He looks right, then sprints off left like Arif said. 

-

You should have known better than to wear a small coat, especially with cold nights as this one was. You continued the somewhat long trek home, arms crossed over your chest to provide you warmth. You weren’t even that far from the shop. You had turned the corner and begun walking down the path you’d walk to deliver to Anthony. You had paid his front door a glance, the urge to knock and see if he was home was hard to resist, but you restrained yourself from doing so, then continued on with solemn acceptance. Various thoughts clouded your mind wandering if you had thought too highly of Anthony. That he didn’t really want to ask you out. You kept your head down, but your senses on high alert. You didn’t mind walking home, but you weren’t too keen on getting mugged so you held on tighter to your satchel. 

Could you really call it home? A home that Arif opened up to you when you told him you had nowhere to go. You would’ve figured it out on your own. It’s what you did best. Depend on yourself, because not everyone would be there to hold your hand. You assumed that it might’ve been pity that he took on you, but after spending a whole month with the man, he turned out to be a tolerable friend. Well, you questioned the latter now, seeming as though he felt the need to keep you out of the loop about London, and the existing curfew. You appreciated his concern and his somewhat step in as a father figure, guiding you and offering advice when you needed some, but you knew when to put your foot down. When you knew you had the right to know things, to ask questions...now you didn’t seem so sure.

“Y/n!” You halt in your step. Freezing up as you hear the call of your name. You look ahead, to your right out onto the street, then slowly swivel around to see a clearly tired out Lockwood run up to you. Your scared demeanor relaxes into an annoyed one, you tightened your crossed arms. You roll your eyes, as he reaches out to you. You turn on your heel and continue moving forward. Arif’s place was further down from where Anthony’s home was. Anthony’s smile falls as you refuse to acknowledge his presence. “Y/n, Y/n wait! Please, let me explain. I know that I’ve messed up and I missed our date-” He scrambles after you. Your steps increase in pace, so he does the same to keep up with you. You were visibly pissed off at him, and you had every right to be. He stood you up. He flinches back, stumbling over his feet so as to not fall into you when you abruptly turn to face him. Your eyes narrowed, but your sadness isn’t lost on him. You take one look at him, watching as he tries to compose himself, taking deep breaths. He swallows down his saliva, feeling anxious under your very hurt demeanor. 

“You didn’t show...” You breathe out shakingly. Your eyes begin to water. “W-Why didn’t you show?” You shake your head. “I waited for you!”

“I know...” Guilt rides over his heart. “I know and I’m sorry. I had business to attend to. An agent- a friend of mind. I accompanied her.” He inquires.

Now that was something you never wanted to hear. He had been with another girl, but you couldn’t be angry could you? You weren’t anything serious. If he wasn’t serious about you then...well then. He could see the knobs turn in your head as your shoulders relaxed, your eyes softening, you were accepting something you had no real idea of. He had walked home with Lucy after their fight. He had pleaded with her not to leave Lockwood & Co. They needed her more than anything. Whereas, she made him promise not to lie to her again and things were okay again, for now at least. A few minutes into their walk, he could feel dread swell in his chest. Lucy had stopped to turn to him and watched all color drain from his face. She had asked what was wrong, but he only responded with very colorful profanity, saying he screwed up big time. Saying how he had missed your date. Lucy felt for him, feeling a tad bit guilty, but he reassured her it was his mess alone. Then he had sprinted off towards the shop after making sure Lucy would be fine on her own, they weren’t that far from the house.

“It’s not what you think. I promise.” He shook his head, hands out in front of him, but he kept his distance. 

“What?” You shrug.

“You know what.” He breathed out a laugh. His signature smile graces you, but it falls almost instantly. “I wasn’t with anyone else, just a colleague. I never meant to stand you up.”

“You did though...” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Arif tore my ear off because I hadn’t made it home before curfew.” You huff, rolling your eyes.

“He was right to...” His tone was low and serious. “It’s not safe after six.”

“Why the hell does everyone keep saying that?” You uncross your arms, releasing a long low sigh. He looks at your arms that go limp at your sides, and your lack of eye contact. 

“You really don’t know?”

You throw a narrowed glance at him. He shrinks under your frown. 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He puts his hands out. “I just find it hard to believe that you really don’t know about what goes on around here.”

"No one tells me anything. I’ve had people laugh at me. Telling me to not ask silly questions.” Your eyes cast up to meet his eyes. He sighs seeing tears brim your waterline. “Why can’t I be out after six? Why even is there a curfew to begin with?”

“Why you?” He mutters under his breath. He takes a step closer.

“Why me what?” You huff out annoyed.

“I don’t understand why you seem to be the only one I’ve come across without the ability to see, hear, or touch ghosts. Then there’s the fact you don’t know about the curfew...” He tilts his head.

“Ghosts? Lockwood what-” You begin but he interrupts you.

“It’s just strange to me.” He slowly lifts his hands to caress the side of your face. You hold your breath for a moment then relax under his touch. “You’re a mystery to me.”

“Why won’t you tell me either?” Your voice shakes. A tear finally falls down your cheek. Lockwood’s is quick to wipe it away. The shake of his head only makes another tear fall. 

“Because I selfishly find your innocence refreshing.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “For the first time, in a long time, you’ve given me a taste of normalcy, and I don’t want to scare you off with the truth. You shouldn’t be burdened with the reality that ghosts exits.”

“Shouldn’t that be up to me to decide?” You place your hand over his own. “Ghost exist?” Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“You’re pure, good, and far too innocent to have your life ruined by what we deal with. You deserve to live an ordinary life, to be quite honest, we all do.” He smiles sadly.

“I deserve an answer, Anthony. I don’t want to live my life in fear, I would rather be prepared. I want to know things!” You plead. “Please.” The previous conversation with Arif floods his thoughts. The reminder that you were running from something he didn’t know what. Regardless if you were done running, you were still scared, he could see it in the way your eyes widened, your need to wrap your arms around yourself. Creating a barrier. You reflected that of a child. He looks to your broken expression, then past your shoulder. He stills for a brief moment, which you hardly register in time. Then you suddenly hear a loud scratch and sizz. Did he just-

“W-Why did you light that?” You breathe out. Eyes begin to water again. You muster a nervous smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It falls quickly.

“Would you believe me if I said I can see five shades and three lurkers closing in on us?” He looks past your shoulder again. You follow his gaze but all you can see is a fog of mist evolving. You snap your head back to him. Your lips quiver. You’ve never been more confused. 

“There’s what?” You keep your eyes on him, not wanting to turn around and see nothing, but his growing anxiety tells you otherwise. Something is there. Something only he can see which you can’t. Part of that intrigues him. He has to reel in on the fact that maybe not every kid can hear or see ghosts. You're a prime example of that.

“Type ones. The weakest amongst the rest, and least dangerous grade of ghosts. You have nothing to worry about…” He steps forward, reaching for your hand to grab hold of. He swiftly shifts in front of you, blocking your view in front of the fog. You don't see what he sees. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He looks over to you. “I promise you.”

“If there’s nothing to worry about then what’s with the flare?” You eye it cautiously. 

“Just a precaution. Can never be too careful.” He cast you a charming smile. The wink he gives only barely comforts you. You look back to the fog, curious about what was currently enclosing. A tight squeeze of your hand has you looking back at him. “Let’s get you home yeah…” You give a faint nod then let him take the lead getting you out there. Though you remain in place. Anthony takes a step forward only to be tugged back. He looks at your hands, then up to your face.

“You’ll tell me things won’t you?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want...just not here okay.” He looks over to the fog then tugs at your intertwined hands again. Your reluctance to move though has him sighing. “I won’t keep anything from you, Y/n. I promise you. I won’t lie to you ever again.” 

“Okay...” You nod. Trusting your gut that he would keep his word. You look back over to the fog. Then as curious as you are, you ask him. “What exactly do lurkers and shades look like?” You meet his eyes with a glint of fear behind them. The fog was getting closer.

“Best you don’t know. Come on now.” He shakes his head and rushes you out of there with hurried steps, but the glare you throw at him has him promising you. “I’ll draw you a picture later...”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Omg! I just read your latest post about a crossover between Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me, and it is the best thing I've ever written because I could just picture Lucifer and Malleus at odds with each other! I sincerely hope you can write different combos between Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me characters, that would be so amazing! Maybe like Mammon x S/O X Buggy?? Those two are greedy, but one is very hard-working while the other is...lazy? I think Mammon is lazy, i don't know much about him sorry XD

Yandere Mammon x Reader X Yandere Ruggie Bucci

The thing about these greedy boys is that they're oddly so similar

Mammon is not above up charging something cheap 

or reselling a gift he’s been given

But he loves his money and is willing to work for it 

All to upkeep his insane spending habits

Ruggie on the other hand will do some of that but in a way…he’s worse

He’s not going to put all his effort in working unless its Leona or someone else who’s really rich

He’d sooner commit a heist than actually start a business or do an actual job he can’t move up in

He’s more likely to smirk and wave his money stack in everyone’s face

After bullying them from some kids in a rich neighborhood 

The problem is morally they’re very different

But it doesn’t take long before they start getting along really well

Too well

“Ack-! We gambled away the car what’re we gonna do!?”

“Stop whining! We’ll get the car back when someone steals it back from them.”

“Oh okay…wait who’s going to steal it back?”

“Us. Idiot.” 

When it comes to you there's even more of a messy dynamic

Mammon’s his tsundere but clingy self 

And Ruggie’s less obvious about his affection until he feels threatened

“Oh so you like them?”

“W-what?! N-n-no, I don’t l-like them at all!”

“Ah okay…then you won’t mind of you sit here and laugh with me while me and (Y/n) go get donuts…by ourselves~!”

“What?! Why can’t I-! Nooo!” 

Thus begins the one-sided battle that leads to the tomfoolery that seems to follow Mammon around

You can try and divide your time between them 

but you can’t help the snide smirks from behind your shoulder or behind your head

[piratefishmama]

Crossing the Line | Part 5

The odds of finding one feral little metalhead in such a large city without any starting point to go off of were slim at best. Okay that was being generous, the odds were basically non-existent as Steve had been telling Robin for the past hour as they wandered the streets seemingly without aim.

“Rob, we should just buy the tickets and see his band! What’s the worst that can happen?”

“We lose our hearing to people who can’t play their instruments properly, you get rejected publicly, someone throws up on us, we wind up in the mosh pit and you get your THIRD concussion, someone spills their drink on me, or on you, you get recognised and publicly ridiculed for wearing a goddamn sweater vest to a metal gig because I saw you pack your bag what in god’s name, Steven.”

“It’s comfortable.” Steve grumbled in response, momentarily subdued by all of her good points “at least it’s monotonal.” It was a grey knit number, one of his softest. “And I was gonna put a black shirt under it.”

“Yep, no, we’re not doing that, you’re not wearing that. If we must go to the gig and I do mean if we must, you’re going to need another outfit, so we’re going to spend today shopping for that, then head back to the apartment and strategize. We can divide and conquer, you take one half of the city, I’ll take the other, we meet in the middle for coffee.”

“…One half of a city. Where even is the middle of it? How is that a plan?”

“Not the best first plan but it’s the planning stage of the plan, and the planning stage is AFTER shopping, so don’t judge the plan until the planning stage of the plan.”

“You said plan a lot.”

“Less talk more thrift shop, let’s go.” His hand grabbed and away they went. It didn’t matter how rich he was, Robin loved thrift shopping, and after meeting her and knocking down her walls of distrust and uncertainty until they became practically joined at the hip platonic soulmates, finding out how many little treasures you could actually find in those shops, he kind of loved it too. It was an experience he wouldn’t have ever gotten without her, an experience that only added to the down to earth personality that’d developed as he grew older with her.

He didn’t know who he’d be without Robin… probably the same douchebag everyone kind of expected him to be. The douchebag he’d been in his teen years perhaps, partying, drinking, doing drugs, trying to be something he wasn’t to impress the people around him when all they cared about was the vestiges of fame trickling from his being.

Perhaps she’d saved his life by just being there. So he’d indulge a little tomfoolery for her sake.

Even if it did wind up with his feet hurting and his arms aching carrying bags of things he’d never ever wear but might have to for true love, trudging down some random street while Robin looked for some weird non-chain coffee shop because Starbucks held no soul.

“Robin can we just— look, right there, Starbucks, we can go in Starbucks, it’ll be fine, in and out!”

“I’m not going in Starfucks, there’s always some idiot instagraming the weird spelling of their name on the cup as if it’s not a Starbucks ploy to get them free advertising.”

“Or someone claiming to be Voldemort as if the barista would actually shout “he who must not be named” for the brief moment of twitter fame reporting it would bring them.”

“Or tacky mass-produced merch.”

“Or overpriced desserts that aren’t worth it.”

“Or—Ooh!! Lookie, there’s one!” They probably could have gone on for longer, but Robin spotted the little brown shop with large dark windows at the end of the street with a hanging sign outside similar to one found on old bars only this one had two coffee beans on it with the word The Roast written in cursive around the beans. And up close it looked like every rustic coffee shop ever made.

Simple, lots of browns and warm white lighting.

“Down the road from a Starbucks? That’s a gutsy business move.” Steve hummed with the most basic amount of interest as he entered through the door Robin held open for him.

“Honestly you’re never more than a stones throw away from a Starbucks, pick any direction I bet we’ll find another within two blocks.”

“That’s fair.” They made it all the way to the counter where a lone, bored employee leaned heavily against the thick wooden countertop, flicking through a magazine of some kind, the board above him strewn with funnily named coffee drinks and little doodles to match them, Steve found his eyes drawn to that while the Barista released a deep

“Welcome to The Roast, what can I get for you?” Without looking up from his magazine.

“Alright, I’ll have a uhm—ow—Robin, what—ow would you stop elbowing me?”

“Steve.”

“What?” He followed her pointer finger to the man now looking at him with the widest, brownest, most beautiful Bambi eyes he’d ever seen in his goddamn life and all thoughts just kind of drifted away, replaced with the single word… pretty. “Oh…Hello...”

Part 7