#but that is how Nightmare's school career started!

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎNobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter౨ৎ꣑ৎ

౨ৎThere's many different ways that you can kill the one you love (The slowest way is never loving them enough)꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: pregnancy, angst, mentions of sexual activity, miscarriage, struggles with eating, weight loss pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: coriolanus has always resisted the unexpected. you surprised him author’s note: some coryo angst for you my loves Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Regret is a disease, in Coriolanus' opinion. It starts small, a thought in the back of one's mind, something that couldn't possibly be true. But time waters the roots until it towers over you, until you are unable to live anywhere but in its shadow.

There were things he wished he didn't do. Or, more accurately, things he wished he didn't have to do. But every movement was careful, every notion considered. He wouldn't be where he was today if it weren't for all he'd done. Both good and bad. It wasn't easy being the man of the house, a title he'd worn for more time than not.

His family was taken care of. Tigris was seeing a flourishing career in fashion, her designs paid for by the highest bidders. The Grandma'am had long passed, but her funeral was as regal and fine as any could be, true to the way she had lived. Coriolanus saw that fresh roses made their way to her grave regularly.

So really, it had all been worth it. He himself was doing more than fine, one of the youngest politicians in Capitol history. The pay gave him an extremely comfortable lifestyle, enough to provide for his cousin too, if she ever needed it.

Quickly though, he learned it didn't matter how much money he had now. Spending his formative years starving in every way possible had cut its mark, leaving a scar he wished he could cover up. The most frequent content of his nightmares consisted of being back in that dreary old penthouse, squeezing his feet into too-small shoes and gulping down a mouthful of watery cabbage before running off to school to maintain an image that had long died. He woke up in cold sweats, fisting his silk sheets, heart pounding. He'd look to the open closet door, where there was an entire row of shoes just in his size, and then ring for tea that was more than just boiled water.

These inner demons caused him to feel reckless. He kept it within for the most part, terrified at the prospect of lost control. Even though there was very little to hide anymore, he was well aware of how quickly good fortune could turn sour. The state of his savings was an indication of that, packed to the brim just in case something went awry.

It wasn't just money or lost investments to worry about. Coriolanus' entire career was dependent on the public eye, his perfect image. Of course, it was easier to maintain now that he wasn't lying about finances, giving him an up from when he was at the Academy. Other less than pretty facets of his past were well hidden, where only one who knew what to look for would find.

He was the only thing he couldn't control.

Being both the only person he trusted and the person he trusted the least was conflicting to say the least. On one hand, he knew himself. On the other, he knew himself. Knew that no matter how much he had, he would always crave what he wouldn't allow himself to have. The list wasn't long, but the contents took up a great deal of space.

Coriolanus had known he'd have to take a wife at some point. Politics were a family man's game. Being head of a household boded well for those wanting to lead the country, apparently. If that were the only requirement, he would have been president years ago. He held off as long as he could. It clearly wasn't that important if he'd been able to get this far.

Still, the higher he climbed, the more of an issue it became. At dinners with his colleagues, he was the only single man attending. During parties, he discovered there was only so much he could do without a partner at his side. A wife would help him make connections, soften his image. He was aware of how he came off because he'd gardened himself to be that way. Getting married was the only way to fix it without changing himself.

The requirements were more than generous. Someone young, pretty, who could hold her own. Beyond that, he couldn't care less. The dreaded L word was so far out of bounds that it was the opposite of a necessity. He observed debutantes with a critical eye, approaching the few he found to be acceptable. Going as far as calling on one or two, he resigned himself to mediocrity, even looked forward to it. This would open doors he'd long wanted to get behind.

Coriolanus met you at a dinner hosted in your father's home. You were seated next to him, beautiful posture and face not unnoticed by him. When you spoke, he heard music, and he didn't even like music. But there must have been a siren in your mouth, because he found himself hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. And then when you turned to him, asked his name with eyes that reminded him of the stars, he knew he was gone.

He'd sworn off love long ago, resisted the strongest of temptations in every facet of his life in order to stay perfect. But you were an aphrodisiac tuned to his senses; a poison hidden behind a flower. You'd smiled at him so sweetly, asking him questions about himself that he hardly heard through the beat of his own heart. At the end of the night, he was forced to accept the truth- that he was wholly enchanted by you.

This was the opposite of what he wanted. Coriolanus told himself to distance himself now that he'd identified the problem, to turn to one of the other girl's he'd picked out and make himself content. The last thing he'd expected was to be swept up in a single girl, to have her face in his mind during waking and sleeping hours. His nightmares turned to dreams of you sitting beside him at the fireplace, lips ever so close but never touching.

This was worse than the nightmares. He could reassure himself that those weren't real. Sleeping pills weren't something he'd touched before. Too addictive, too risky. He started taking two with his nightly tea.

Dreamless sleep didn't fix his waking hours. He couldn't help inquiring about you, learning every tidbit anyone could tell him. You were an accomplished student, raised to perfection for society's prying eyes. Various accounts detailed your charm, your beauty, your genuine sweetness. The vice within him only bloomed with every new detail, until he found himself on the front steps of your dwelling, telling himself he was only going to call. Nothing more. It would satiate his curiosity.

Of course, you were lovelier on your own somehow. A diamond in the rhinestone pool he'd dived into in search of a companion. His calls increased in frequency, the other options forgotten. In what felt like no time at all, the ring he'd carefully selected was on your finger, sitting there like it was always meant to be. Like he'd fixed in the one piece that made you short of the whole puzzle.

He was deep in the whirlwind that was you, under your spell. When he kissed you for the first time, it was dizzying, your touch shutting off his mind. In this way, he claimed you, put his mark where everyone could see it.

All his life, he'd had to guard his possessions, from food to pride to image. He lived at less than half full for the sake of holding onto these things. One sip of posca. Only a few more bites so he could eat tomorrow. Keep yourself alert or they will take everything from you.

You were the one indulgence he allowed himself. He told himself he deserved it, just this one time. Something good on purpose. Something good that was unplanned. Maybe...just maybe. He sobered up quickly on his wedding day.

Seeing you standing across from him, eyes soft, looking a vision in white, it hit him what this meant. He had you. And now he was in danger.

Love had consequences. Love made him blind. Love had almost cost him everything in the past. He'd broken his own rule, made himself a target for tragedy. Worse somehow, he risked you.

Marriage meant sex. Sex meant babies. He'd known that before, of course, but it as staring him in the eyes now, a knife to his throat. Memories of his mother's screaming and her pale, lifeless face were ghosts before his eyes as he recited his vows. His one indulgence couldn't have been a worse one. Your smile suddenly felt haunting, not sweet.

All through the reception, he was making a new list in his head. Now that he'd done the one thing he'd vowed not to, he'd have to deal with the aftermath the only way he knew. Love was a wildfire, and he was prepared to fight it, contain it as best he could. Coriolanus Snow could control the uncontrollable, steer himself away from the wreckage he'd caused.

He had what he'd wanted, even if followed by a worse issue. Till death do us part.

As far as regrets went, you were his biggest one.

Your nightdress tonight was red. A last-ditch attempt. Coriolanus seemed fond of the color, the same as his precious roses, his favorite suit, the Snow family crest. Even his leather briefcase had a maroon tint to it.

When he entered the bedroom, stone faced as usual, he made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and removing his shoes, barely nodding at you. Sitting up straight, you smiled hopefully, waiting for him to say something about your appearance.

He was quiet as he approached you, getting on the bed and holding out a hand, which you took, heart beating optimistically. His hair was a little messy, eyes unreadable as he took you in. When he pulled you closer, you almost sighed at the feel of his skin on yours, the warmth of it making you want to curl up against him forever. Coriolanus leaned in, and you tilted your head up, hoping for a kiss.

Instead, your husband exhaled, looking at you in a way you didn't understand. Patting the mattress, he slid his hand to your back, nudging it a little. "Come on."

Your heart sank, thudding in your belly. Trying not to let your face show it, you rolled onto your belly, his arm sliding around your waist. Another night of this, and he still refused to look at you.

It'd been the same since your wedding night. He'd come into your room, push up your nightdress, and take you the exact same way, not a hint of emotion in the act. You couldn't have predicted this in your courtship, or else you wouldn't have agreed to be his forever.

A friend had detailed the act, describing it as something painful, a task to be done. But she'd smiled at you after describing her experience. "I don't think it will be like that for you. He really cares about you. Anyone can see it."

You'd believed her. Why wouldn't you? He'd been perfectly doting, telling you everything you wanted to hear and bringing the sweetest gifts. The men you'd been called on by before were generic in their efforts. Coriolanus had remembered things about you, spoken like he understood. It was easy to fall for him.

He was handsome and successful, yes, but there was something more to him that you managed to unlock. It was the way he touched you, the way he spoke to you. It felt as though he cared. You would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he'd asked, so smitten you'd grown wings. He kissed you and it made you weak at the knees, something inside you panting for more. If this was how he loved outside, the way he loved within the bounds of marriage was sure to be life changing.

As a child, you were left at the mercy of nannies and tutors to learn how to live. Your parents were distant, participants of an endless social calendar you had to pen yourself into. All through growing up, you longed for a hug, a kiss, a soft word. You'd gotten a taste now. Coriolanus left you starving.

It was rare now that he touched or even looked at you. A switch had flipped after the wedding, and now he was a version of himself you'd never known. Someone who no longer wanted to speak to you, who only called on you when he needed to be seen at your side.

Obviously, you'd done something wrong, but you couldn't decipher what. Had you said something at the reception? Had someone told him something about you? Either way, you had no idea, and he certainly wasn't going to tell you. So you tried to make up for it in any way you could.

The pretty nightdresses. The photographs at every event. You played the part as well as you could, making yourself completely perfect for him. All the while, silently begging: love me, love me, love me. Want me the way you did before.

You never spoke of it directly, but you knew the goal was to conceive as soon as possible. Why else would he partake in such an activity every night, one that he didn't seem to enjoy at all? Hope was your constant. If you were good for him, things would go back to the way they were before. He would be pleased with you and your sex would morph into lovemaking. And you would be happy again.

The week you missed your monthly, you immediately phoned for an appointment with the doctor, elated that you might finally be pregnant. You held off until after confirming to tell Coriolanus, practically bouncing in your seat on the couch by the door. Every second dragged until he finally entered, looking tired as usual from his time in the office. He was handsome as ever though, and you started daydreaming about what the celebration would be like after you revealed your happy news.

"Darling," he greeted, setting his briefcase on and loosening his tie. Since he would only do so if the door was locked, you leapt to your feet, feeling weightless with excitement.

Coriolanus looked at you curiously, removing his coat as well. "Is everything alright?"

Nodding, you reached up and straightened his collar, wanting to touch him more than ever. He hesitated before setting his hands on your hips, and a jolt of joy urged you forward. Palms flat on his chest, you looked into his eyes, the color of a summer day's sky. Unable to help your smile as you said it, you said, "I'm pregnant."

Silence. You held your breath, watching his face.

Then he leaned forward, kissing your forehead. You closed your eyes, smiling in relief. "Good," he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb. Leaning into his touch, you waited for it to turn to more, for him to pick you up and carry you to your bedroom and tell you how proud he was, how well you'd done for him.

His hand fell from your waist. You opened your eyes in confusion, watching him disappear from sight. Footsteps, the ones you laid awake and waited for every single night, sounded down the hallway until you heard the familiar click of his office door shutting.

The feeling didn't overwhelm you at first. It poked your shoulder, tilted its head at you and settled, curling into your feet before you could ask what it was. It carved a hole into your heart, the spot you'd saved for him. And then you realized that maybe it'd been hollow all along, this just smashed the wall that hid it from you.

You scrambled for something to cling to, coming up short. The new life growing inside you wasn't enough, and neither, it seemed, were you.

Dragging yourself to your room, you didn't bother to change into one of your nightdresses. In the closet, you'd laid out a special one, in deep red and edged with lace, when you were sure tonight would end in triumph. You didn't think you could bear to look at it right now.

Instead, you draped yourself over your side of the bed, facing the wall. Your hand automatically crept to your tummy, but you forced it away, clinging to the blanket under you instead.

There were his sharp footsteps again, getting closer this time. You perked up, but didn't move. Maybe he was coming with good intentions after all. After all, you knew the news of becoming a father must have been shocking. Maybe he'd only needed a moment to collect himself.

You closed your eyes, waiting for him to come around to your side of the bed so you could open them and smile up at him and have all be well. His belt clinked with his pants button when he unbuckled it. You knew every move just by the sound. Shoes off. Unbuttoning his shirt. Pants off. There was a dip in the mattress, and then the light clicked off.

The feeling found you again, coming on stronger this time, winding its fingers around your neck. Tears built up in your throat, and you couldn't suppress a sniffle, hoping he wouldn't hear. Coriolanus muttered your name, but you didn't move.

Perfectly still, you resigned to him.

The loss of you was a chasm Coriolanus tried to skirt. He failed miserably.

You were still present of course, your heart still beating, blood still running through your veins. But you couldn't have been further from alive if you'd tried. Gone was the fresh-faced girl he'd married. You were quiet now, paler and thinner.

He knew it was his fault. Coriolanus bore that burden every day, convinced now more than ever that it would be worse for you if he let himself be near. He'd hurt you enough in the process of conceiving a child. That was enough for a lifetime.

After you informed him of your pregnancy, he was finally able to distance himself from you altogether. There was no more touching, no more sex that left him dizzy and wanting you. You were his forever and that was bad enough for you.

There was a twinge in his heart each time he saw you. He tried to reason with himself. It was for the best. You didn't need the likes of him around while you were already dealing with something like your pregnancy. He could barely process that it was his child. Something he'd done to you.

The doctor's reports that darkened his desk each time you had a check in only grew more concerning in content. Losing too much weight...decreasing appetite...not safe for the baby...

Coriolanus pushed the evaluation to the side, despite the growing pit in his heart. You were seeing the best doctors in all of Panem. Surely, they'd find a way to help you before it was too late. He tried to focus back on his work, picking up his pen and staring at the words in front of him. It was dark, the only light in the room coming from the lamp on his desktop.

His mind wandered. The image of you the last time he'd seen you- gaunt and ghostlike, curled up on a chair and staring at the same page of a book for near twenty minutes- was burnt into his eyes. Even through his avoidance, you would always try to speak to him, ask about his day or chatter about yours. He'd found it painful at the time, when he was forced to brush you off. But now that it was gone, he missed it.

One night, he had decided to go downstairs for dinner, though he usually didn't take meals with you. Telling himself he only wanted to check on you, he entered the dining room and found it empty. Not even a light on. The staff were very consistent about mealtimes. He only grew more confused at the fact that everything in the room appeared untouched.

A single ask, and he learned that you weren't taking regular meals, simply ringing up for tea every now and then. "I send a sandwich or two up with her tray," one of the cooks told him shyly, wringing her hands. "I feel right awful for her, in her condition. And the plate always comes back empty."

It was on his mind as he stared at the doctor's report where he'd pushed it. Tapping the end of his pen on the desk, he tried to suppress the draw of you from your bedroom. It was as if there was a rope tied around his heart connecting it to yours.

He dropped his pen, watching it clatter atop the document he'd tried to study. Pushing back in his chair, Coriolanus stood up, wincing at the ache in his legs from sitting so long. Being holed up in his office for close to days at a time was beginning to take a toll.

There was no thought, his feet took him to your door in an instant. When he opened it, you were right where he'd seen you last, not even trying to pretend to read the book in your lap. Your hands were folded primly. He looked to the wall as if he'd see whatever you were.

Waiting a moment, he stood still in the doorframe. You didn't acknowledge him, not even a head turn.

Finally he broke, making his way over to kneel at your side. "Darling," Coriolanus offered softly. "How are you feeling?" His head was telling him to walk away, but the rope gave a tug, and he remained beside you.

"I'm fine," you whispered, voice raspy. Your hand migrated over your belly, and his eyes went with it. There wasn't much to see yet, but he could immediately tell the difference. The way your belly was rounding with something he'd sworn he imagined until now.

Looking back at you, he suppressed every protest that arose. "Have you eaten yet?"

You finally met his eyes. He found himself suddenly in need of more air. "No."

Coriolanus nodded once, keeping his expression neutral. Tearing his gaze away, he said, "I'll ring for something for you."

When he began to stand, your hand shot out, curling around his wrist. Fire. He was getting burned and he didn't want it to stop. "You're not staying?"

The disappointment in your voice nearly caused him to deny it. But he'd never lied to you, and he wasn't about to start now. "No."

"Oh." The word was a defeated, empty thing and he wanted to scrub it away immediately. Your eyes dropped, and you began to pick at the skirt of your dress.

"I still need to get work done," he explained keeping his tone even. "Eat something. It'll make you feel better."

"I'm sure." That got his attention. Your tone with him had never been anything but soft, but now it was flat, nearly sarcastic.

He stopped. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Nothing you want to give," you said, standing up and smoothing your dress down. "I don't need you to ring. I want tea."

"Darling-" You shook your head, and he felt like a scythe had been driven through his chest.

It was quiet for a moment. The look on your face crossed the bounds of language, and he felt his heart dip.

Every horror he'd endured paled at the hollow space in your eyes. You watched him, seeming to wait for something. When you spoke it was soft, but he was tuned into every word. "What did I do wrong?" It was the unsaid that threatened to bleed him dry. The tears he could hear gathering behind your eyes with five words.

Then he realized what you'd said. Brow furrowing, he shook his head before he could get his response out. "Nothing. You've never-"

"I must have," you interrupted, voice breathy with unborn crying, eyes wide as a baby deer's. Your hand found the sweater material of your dress over your collarbone as your breathing grew unsteady. He was too stunned to do anything but watch. Months of marriage and this was the first time he'd seen this side of you. "You won't touch me. Or even see me anymore." Blinking fast, you whispered, "I thought you would love me."

He spent nearly all his time loving you. "I'm doing what's best for us," he maintained, straightening and ignoring the way you seemed to sink further into yourself. "This is for the best."

"I did do something." You nodded, looking away and swallowing hard. Though he could see the tears in your eyes, you did not let a single one fall.

Then, your posture leveled, and you lifted your chin, and he found himself in the starlight of your eyes once more. "I want to fix it." You stepped forward, grasping his wrist in one soft hand. He forced himself to stay in control, hand limp as you held it with both of yours. "Let me."

Coriolanus nearly crumbled. Every weakness he possessed was urging him into your light. Your touch, your scent, your eyes, your voice. The sight of you with his ring on your finger and his child growing within you.

But he had to. Pulling his hand away, he exhaled, resisting the urge to take you into his arms. "I'll ring for your tea. Eat something."

All the way back to his office, his ears were ringing. He made sure to call for your meal before collapsing into his chair, chest nearly heaving. It had gotten to a point of no return. Everything within him was warring, fighting to be heard. And everything was right.

Never before had he been so wholly consumed by a single person, so much so that it hurt to be apart. Coriolanus pressed a hand to his chest, willing the ache to lessen. There was no point in denying the problem any longer.

You thought it was your fault. He'd never even considered that his distance would cause something like this. And your guilt was literally eating you alive.

It was his fault for being close to you. It was his fault for not being close enough. Both options fought until the image of you bloody and pale reemerged, silencing everything in his head. Even the sleeping pills couldn't prevent this nightmare.

When he went to bed, your tea tray was being retrieved by a maid who kept her head down as she passed him. Both halves of the sandwich were still on the plate.

Shadows. The tile was cool on your cheek, and you were too weary to open your eyes.

Blooming. Your body was burning, a fist tearing something from your lower belly that you would have fought if you weren't so weak. Something wet and sticky pooled at your thighs, but you couldn't move. Your dress was ruined, you knew without seeing it.

This was it. The end of your loveless years. Losing. Every hope you'd gained was shattered at your feet along with the one thing you'd thought could save you.

He crossed your mind, just once. Yet another thing you'd chased away. You'd tried so hard to be perfect that it had driven him from your side. You'd been tricked into life's truest bind, but now you were being released.

The ring on your finger was heavy in a comforting way. It reminded you how desired you once were, that old dream coming back like a fond memory. Oh, to be so naive again.

Someone was calling your name. An angel? You mumbled, waiting for the searing pain to fade into nothingness.

Instead, a pair of hands found your body. Your heart found relief, one desire fulfilled. The most impossible one, you knew, although you couldn't recall what it was.

Your mind cut out before you could remember.

His visions had come true. Coriolanus had been convinced he'd imagined it to life as he'd collapsed at your side and bellowed for help. you barely stirred as he pulled you into him, every wall he'd built shattered into nothingness.

Whispering your name over and over like it was a cure, he'd held you to him until help arrived, leaving him alone on his knees in your blood on the bathroom floor.

The doctor worked quick, apologizing in hushed tones for his loss when he was finished. Coriolanus barely felt it. All he heard was that you were alive, that you would open your eyes once more. He went through the motions of cleaning himself up rigidly, returning to your side as soon as he was able.

His heart was numb. The unthinkable had happened. But you were still here. This upset the balance in his head, leaving him reeling for answers. All his life had been a game of the worst cause and effect. Goodness triggered loss of it. But you were still here. You were still here.

Coriolanus found himself kneeling by your bed as if in prayer. Your breathing was steady, and you looked more at peace than in months. His tight grip on control began to loosen as he watched you sleep, let himself linger on the smooth surface of your skin, the curve of your lips. Every detail he'd pretended not to notice in his destructing act of protection.

He didn't need it spelled out, but the doctor told him anyways. Stress. Of course, the man couldn't possibly know the cause of it. The guilt cloaked him until he sank to the bare truth. He'd be atoning for the rest of his life. Beyond, if he was lucky.

Everything he thought he knew was in ashes. He wanted to retreat into himself, hide away in his office and bury himself in a shallow grave of paperwork. Ignoring everything as if he were a concept and not alive was his usual style. But the lesson stood tall above the wreckage. The only thing worse than having you was losing you.

Succumbing to the wildfire, his eyes didn't leave you when you began to stir. Your eyelids lifted, and he saw stars again.

He wanted to shoulder the weight he'd added to you. With his ring, he'd ruined the perfect girl he'd sworn to love and protect. With one of those notions, he destroyed the other.

Locked in your eyes, Coriolanus hesitated, sentences fading between his tongue and teeth. Everything he wanted to say was beyond words, instances that took more time than he had. There was only this moment to begin. And so, for the first time, he let his heart guide the way.

Reaching out, he almost expected you to withdraw. But when he settled his palm on your cheek, you merely shut your eyes again, tilting your head up into his touch. He had a foot in the door.

When he removed his hand, you didn't react. But when he crossed around your bed to sit beside you, stretching his arm out so you would rest on his chest, you snuggled close, blinking sleepily. His touch was careful, almost sure you would shatter under it.

Your ear covered his heart, listening to it beat for you. His hand smoothed your hair. The warmth of your body distilled the ache for now. Reaching down, he kissed the top of your head, holding his nose there to breathe you in.

The disease had switched courses. Regret now laid in the past, not the future.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Session Zero

Hello! I am back! @spotaus get in here friend! Next drabble just dropped!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Okay. Before anyhting else. This is in the first spring the guys are in farmtale. Nightmare has been six for almost a year now, like 11 months ish. So the gang has been in Farmtale for like 8 months ish (they have had night with them for 10 months)

Look. You all agreed to this timeline hopping when you started reading my drabbles. I have warned you all at the beginning of this ride. ANYWAY! We going in!

*-------------------------*

Ngihtmare stares up at the building as he keeps a very tight hold on Dust's shirt. Dust still has him in his arms as he calmly waits by the enterance.

Killer had dropped them off for now and was going to park the car while they waited under the little covering by the front door.

Dust nuzzles his skull softly "Hey... it is just for a little while. And I shouldn't be long."

Nightmare just pushes closer to Dust "Why need to even go here? It is stupid. You teach me stuff."

Dust nods "Oh trust me. I agree. I am perfectly able to teach things." Dust looks unhappy as well.

Fauna, the nice deer monster from their town, laughs softly "But unless you actually get registered you aren't allowed to do that."

Dust huffs and Nightmare looks at her "So? Why do i need to go here?" Nightmare could just take a break while Dust gets the stupid license to home school and then they can pick it up again. Dust already said they aren't ina hurry.

Fauna smiles softly "This is also to see how you are doing mentally Nightmare. A lot has happened and your health is important."

Ngihtmare just pushes clsoer ot Dust "I am fine." he is fine. He has his... his four! He has a home and peolpe who care about him. What else could he want? Sure his body aches and if he moves a lot it still hurts... and when he is alone at night the nightmares return. But that is beside the point!

He is happier and safer than he has been for a long time. How can they just not see that?

Fauna smiles softly "Well you have been healing a lot. but this is a good thing! you will get to learn so many things, and they will figure out where you are with your schooling to help you better focus and see where you can learn things. Not to forget other children to play with."

Nightmare freezes at the implication of other children and looks up at Dust begging. Please. Please don't leave him.

Dust nuzzles his skull and mutters softly "I will stay right by your side."

Fauna is clearly about to say something but then Killer rushes unver the cover and pants as he drips water "This rain!! It gets everywhere!"

Dust shoots him a disapproving look "really?"

Killer grins "Had to walk quite the end to get here. No parking places. Well! Lets get this whole mental evaluation over with!" and he marches in. Dust shrugs and follows him.

They check in with the receptionist as Nightmare keeps his skull against Dust's collarbone. He watches as he stays quiet to try and listen. file away eveyrhting he hears and keep an eye on where the exit is. Just in case.

They get to the right room and meet some people inside. The director Augustus and the head teacher Miss March.

They talk for a while and Nightmare just keeps trying to stay plastered against Dust. He knows it is dumb and needy and clingy and he shouldn't be this weak after all he experienced but he is terrified and Dust is safe.

They do the stupid tests and talk and they just keep asking him questions he doens't want or know how to answer.

Then they have lunch and all Nightmae wants to do is go home and sleep in their bed.lay together with his dad- four! His four! and relax. let today pass and never think about it again.

They have a few more talks before they meet up with Augustus again and he smiles at them "I must say i am relieved."

Killer looksup and shoots Dust a look as well.

Dust frowns and Ngihtmare feels hismelf be pulled closer "about what?"

Augustus blinks and chuckles "I am sorry. I didn't mean it in any negative way. It is just. I read the file you put together with miss Fauna and I had been worried. but. It seems like your son is a very strong and brave young man."

Nightmare is unsure how to react and just pushes closer to Dust. He knows it is part of the story that Dust is his biological dad but they joy at hearing that bond being refered between them? It is a lot.

Augustus sighs "There is trauma. that is obvious. However. He speaks for himself. and while scared he just needs some gentle encouragement from either of you to feel reassured. The ability for him to still form these meaningfull and supportive bonds with others really showcases that he is on the right track to heal."

He pulls over another report "The physical health is also healing. Very slowly but with the slow recovery of his own magic it is to be expected and all well within the realm of normal healing."

he sighs as he looks at them "Now... about his schooling. He is a smart kid. Very far with reading and languages. But the other aspects of his schooling are very lacking at the moment. but nothing that can't be caught up with." Augustus waits a moment before continuing "Normally. I would recommend full days here."

Killer hisses and glares "No." Nightmare shrinks closer to Dust as Dust just pulls him closer again.

Augustus nods "I had already assumed that would be your answer." he smiles "I will still have to try. I assure you he will be safe here. We have a top staff that all work together to ensure the safety of the children. We are specialised in offering help for children of bad situations. TO help them heal and experience the things any child should get the chance to experience."

Dust glares "He doesn't want to."

Augustus nods "of coruse he doesn't. It is new and scary. It is away from those who keep him safe. But it would help him grow. help him heal. see that not eveyrone in this world is out to hurt him. that those who hurt him were the outliners and should never have gotten the chance to see him."

Dust frowns as Killer jsut glares "We are not leaving him here for days on end."

Augustus nods "While we recommend the full program we can always do a shorter one. One that focusses on trying to help him catch up wiht his learnign and to just keep an eye in case his mental health degrades." he pulls over another piece of paper and hands it to Killer.

Killer snatches it and reads it.

Augustus speaks calmly "It is half a day a week. Normally for children who spend a long time in a hospital. It will mean that he two hours of private tutoring and after that he would spend an hour with the class before and another hour after lunch." he smiles "a much more gentle introduction to school and being near others."

Killer and dust share a look.

Killer leans closer "And how long would this all take? Seeing as we are planning on home schooling him again as soon as Dust got his license."

Augustus looks thoguhtful "Catching up with the school work will take a long time. mentally healing fuly even longer. But as you are not planning on using the full program we can at least give him a stable start to continue healing from."

Fauna frowns at them "What if it turns out that he likes classes? that he likes being in a group?"

Nightmare shakes his skull as he pushes closer to Dust.

Dust rubs his spine softly and Ngihtmare feels hismefl relax. Killer speaks with a grin "If. and only IF Nightmare says he prefers group classes and stuff. Then we will look into options."

Dust nods as he keeps holding him "It will be a long process. We will need to make sure the people he is near know not to touch him. THe children will have to know to be gentle. Nightmare will have to rest a lot and if anything happens with his magic we would have to be called." Dust looks pointedly at Augustus and Nightmare sees the other shiver under the intimidating glare.

Dust just keeps staring "Which is just the start of the list."

Killer grins and the tension disappears "Which is why one of us will remain nearby just in case!"

Augustus frowns "That would go against the aim of the project to help him build up his ability to trust people. We would be at large of a risk that he could fall back into habits of only going to you."

Killer nods "I dn't see anything wrong wiht that." he glares "We are not leaving him. and you can't make us leave."

Augustus frowns and thinks deeply before nodding "What if. You don't stay in the room with him. but you can remain near? We have our waiting rooms for people between appointments or waiting for pick up. YOu could remain there. That is nearby in case of emergencies and knowing you would be in the building could be helpful to make everything feel safer?"

Nightmare is kinda shocked at how considering this guy is. He had seen others before. Who just demanded everyone do what they say because they know better. And this guy probably knows better. He has seen many people before and helped many people. It is why miss Fauna encouraged them to go to this place in the nearby city over the small town psychologist.

Something about having build this whole thing to help others and everything being specialized to be able to help those who have been hurt in this way.

But here he is... letting them decide stuff.

Killer looks considered and him and Dust share a look. DUst shoots Augustus a look "Why are you being so okay with us wanting things different and special?"

Augustus looks shocked before laughing a bit. Then he smiles "Because we are all different people. Two can have the exact same thing happen to them and have a completely different response to the trauma. Two can have the exact same response to the trauma yet need different healing plans." he sighs "We are all individuals who deal and work through things in our own ways. I can advice the most successful routine and what i have seen works before. But you three will always know you three best. You know what you can and can't handle."

Augustus smiles "Maybe after a very sessions and classes I will have a better personalised idea on what could help Nightmare. But before I can do that I need to get to know him a bit more. The mind is a complex thing. It takes time to understand. And you can't understand it if you aren't willing to listen."

Fauna smiles and nods "THe body is rather easy to heal. It will heal if giving the right things it needs. But the mind won't heal unless it is ready to heal. Until it wants to heal."

Augustus nods "exactly. It takes a lot of effort to work through trauma. But the first step is wanting it. Which is why i won't force a program or routine unto anyone, even if i truly believe it will help them."

Killer and Dust consider it and end up agreeing to talk with everyone at home about it.

They do a few more tests and scans. mostly on his spine and ribs to note down the progress. After that they say goodbye to Fauna and leave the building.

The rain had calmed downa lot and turned into a light drizzle as they walk back towards the truck.

Dust hums and nuzzles his skull "you okay?"

Nightmare shrugs "I don't want to do school there."

Dust blinsk adn laughs "I don't think any of us want you to do that either." then he sighs "But it is slightly required to at least get some help."

Killer groans "For real. If we don't at least try this people will keep being problematic." then he frowns "It is also nice to have more medical experts check your wounds nad magic tiny boss."

Nightmare frowns as he pushes close to Dust and thinks.

Eventually they get to their ride and Nightmare mutters "Only for a little while. Just to calm people down." then he wants homeschool again.

Dust nuzzles his skull "We wouldn't ask anything else of you. an we will be wiht you the whole time."

Yeah... that makes the idea bearable. As long as it doesn't take too long of course.

*-------------------------*

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[lowkeyerror]

Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It’s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?”  Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart.  Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

 It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That’s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

[mysunshinetemptress]

I love you

Alexia Putellas x sisters best friend reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst,

Alexia hadn’t always liked you let alone love you, to her you where her little sisters annoying best friend who would do anything possible to annoy her daily. She would huff and roll her eyes every time you would bounce over and ask for her to watch a dance both yourself and Alba had just come up with, or slam her bedroom door in your face anytime you knocked, you where a constant pain back then.

But to Alba you were her best friend who had been there for her through her worst and best times. Alexia and Albas father had died when Alexia was 18 and Alba was 15 with you still being 14 and you had been Albas constant being there from the beginning of their worst nightmare until Alexia decided to shut you out. It was something you always brushed off stating it was understandable you weren’t family and Alexia simply wanted to mourn such a massive loss with her sister and mother in private much to Albas dismay who constantly stated she needed you and Alexia had no right to push you away in that manner, especially when she knew how much you loved her sister.

Alva had been there for just as much as you had for her especially when her sister had began to date her teammate Jenni Hermoso breaking your heart in the process. Alexia didn’t know of your feelings swearing Alba to secrecy but her constant show of affection towards Jenni at the Putellas family home saw you avoid the house much to the older girls delight.

Alexia didn’t think she could dislike you anymore until in her words you “tried to take Alba away from her home.” You had been accepted into the Paris Opera Ballet School at the age of 18, she had screamed at you much to your, Eli and Albas horror, once again you had left the Putellas house on the older girls wishes only this time you didn’t return, instead you said goodbye to your best friend and boarded a plane. A year later Alba flew out to you and never looked back instead she began flying around the globe with you as you began your professional Ballet career stating you need a reminder of home (her).

But now at the age of 25 you where heading home for the first time, you where taking a well deserved break before your next contract started up opting to travel home to spend time with family and friends.

That’s how Alexia found you relaxing on the couch in her family home “Y/n.” You turned looking at the eldest Putellas smiling softly “Hola Ale.” Alexia looked at you stunned “you…you are home.” You nodded “Sí for a while I have a break in my contract so I thought why not.” Alexia nodded unable to take her eyes off of you “well eh..it’s nice to see you.” You smiled brightly at her “it’s nice to see you too Ale.” Alexia let out a nervous laugh before rushing into the kitchen to find her mother as Alba trotted down the stairs “what was that.” You let out a huff “that was me realising I might still have feelings for your sister Al.” Alba smacked you laughing “dios mío, y/n you told me you where done with her the night you left.” You shook your head “I know but Al, I forgot how hot your sister was.” Alba through a pillow at you head as you laughed.

You spent nearly every day at the Putellas house like the old days only this time Alexia didn’t seem to care as much, maybe it was the fact she had her own place now but you often found her sitting watching movies with you and Alba or sitting at the dinner table having coffee in the morning. What blew your mind altogether was when she invited you on a night out with her teammates, “Alba will be there, but I just thought I would ask you know incase you wanted to meet them or just go out for the night.” You smiled happily nodding “I’d love to, eh I’ll be here at 7pm.” Alexia couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach “sounds good Osa.” You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname remembering back to when the word adesoso used to follow after it.

You had been panicking since 4pm on the phone to Alba “I don’t have clothes Al.” Alba huffed “yes you do amor, wear the black corset and trousers you know the leather ones and your boots you look hot in them.” You rolled your eyes “ok are you sure.” Alba rolled her eyes “you could wear a bin bag and Ale would think you are hot.” Three hours later you were stood outside the Putellas house nervously talking yourself up to ring the doorbell looking up suddenly when you head Alexia’s voice “Joder, eres preciosa.” You looked down as your face reddened “Gracias Ale.” You finally looked up staring at the older girl “wow Ale you look wow.” Alexia shook her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you in the door shouting out to Alba that you were here and ready to go.

Arriving at the club you scanned the room before catching eyes with Barcelonas best known defender “Mapi.” Maria turned on a dime laughing as she ran to scoop you up “Bebé pequeño.” You laughed at the nickname you kissed her cheek as she put you down not turning as you felt a hand on your back thinking it was Alba “how are you amor, what are you doing here, oh I have someone I want you to meet.” You laughed at Mapi’s excitement “Más despacio,Maria.” The hand left your back as Mapi dragged you towards the crowd “Mi Vida I have someone you have to meet.” You froze slightly at the sight of the tall Norwegian until she smiled brightly at you “Maria did you kidnap a ballerina.” Mapi looked confused “eh no, this is Y/n mi Bebé pequeño.” Ingrid shook her head “no you kidnapped one of the best Ballerinas in the world.” You laughed shaking your head before putting your hand out to shake Ingrid’s hand “Hola, I’m Y/n.” Ingrid looked surprised as you leaned into Mapi “how do you two know each other.” You both looked at each other and laughed “Ale and Alba.” Ingrid looked even more surprised before you began to explain “I grew up with Al, and then when I moved to Paris to study Alba followed me over a year later.” Ingrid looked stunned “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched you perform either live or on screen you are incredible.” You felt your cheeks reddening at her compliment before a hand grabbed your back again, once again assuming it was Alba you relaxed into their arms “My friends are actually trying to organise seeing you in Vienna.” Finally the voice behind you spoke causing you to stiffen “Vienna.” You turned looking at Alexia “sí, I leave in two weeks to begin rehearsals and then my next show is in Paris and then my agent said something about dancing in London.” Alexia felt her stomach drop “so when are you coming home.” You looked at Alexia confused “probably not for a while, why you aren’t going to miss me.” You laughed half heartedly but stopped at Alexia’s frowning features “of course I will.” You shook your head “you hate me.” Alexia sighed “I don’t hate you Osa, I’ve never hated you.” You wanted to push further but Alba grabbed your hand “Come on show off those moves we all know you’ve got.” You couldn’t help but look back at Alexia eyes softening as you looked at the frown spread across her face.

You had been dancing for hours getting lost in the moment with Alba like you both normally did, although this time you couldn’t help but look for Alexia sighing every time you noticed her talking to someone else before shaking your head and going back to dancing. You stiffened suddenly as an unknown hand wrapped around your waist before someone began speaking to you “Hola, guapa.” You turned looking at an unfamiliar face before smiling nervously “hola.” You turned looking for Alba before seeing her talking to a girl “it’s ok she’s with my friend.” You looked at the strange woman confused “ehh ok.” You quickly looked at the table of Barcelona players trying to catch someone’s eye but finding no one, you couldn’t help but squirm uncomfortably as the girls hand stayed on your waist squeezing it before you turned to Alba grabbing her hand “Al Por favor.” Alba simply brushed you off to busy batting her eyes at the girl she was flirting with “Al.” You tried again only to feel the random girl pull you towards her “hey why don’t we go get a drink.” You shook your head “no gracias.” But she wasn’t taking no for an answer as you put your hands on her shoulder trying to push her off you. You gasped quickly as you were pulled into a different pair of arms relaxing immediately as you took in Alexia’s perfume unable to stop the gasp you let out “Ale.” Alexia ignored you pulling you before she grabbed Alba “Al we are leaving.” Alba turned to argue before she caught your eyes and a worried expression spread across her face “what, what happened Y/n.” Alexia huffed “you would know if you took your head out of that girls ass and stopped flirting with her.” Alba huffed pulling her sister back towards her “why do you care.” Alexia shook her head “leave it Alba, I’m not doing this here.” Alba shook her head not taking that “no we are, you have hated Y/n since our friendship started, you haven’t made it a secret so don’t try to deny it.” Alexia huffed “I don’t hate her.” Alba cut her off “yes you do.” Alexia was getting angry “no I don’t, I love her.” Alba looked at her sister surprised “I love her, I’m in love with her.” You looked surprised at Alexia “you love me.” Alexia turned to you shocked “well….i…..ehm.” You grabbed the older girls face pulling her into a searing kiss “I’ve wanted to do that since I was four years old.” Alexia laughed kissing you again “let me take you home Osa.”

You groaned lightly turning to see Alexa’s relaxed features as sleep took over her body until she groaned at the sound of the knock on door until Eli pocked her head in “Gracias a dios, you grew a pair Ale.” You couldn’t help but laugh “hi Eli.” Eli smiled at you “Papa would be so happy.” Alexia looked at you smiling softly “I know, he told me if she wasn’t going to be his daughter in law he would disown me.” You laughed pulling the older girl into a kiss “slow down mi amor, you only admitted to your love to me yesterday.” Alexia sighed happily “yeah but I know this is forever.”

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to his intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[crowsofdarkness]

Soulmates: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope : Soulmates

Word Count: 6,945

Content Warnings: language, angst, mentions of death/murder, mention of drinking.

Summary: Growing up, reader had been told stories about how you would dream your soulmates memories, something you never believed in. That was until someone new moves in next door and nightmares plague you every night.

A soft sigh left my lips as I finally stepped foot into my apartment. After the long day of law school and a double bartender shift, I was beyond exhausted. I tossed my bags and keys on the kitchen table and fell onto the sofa with a loud groan. 

“Ugh, I wish someone was here to massage my feet,” I groaned to myself. 

With a quiet meow, my black cat named Salem, jumped up on my stomach and purred his demands for ear scratches. 

“As much as I love you Salem, I don’t think your paws are big enough to massage out the knots in my feet from today.” I smiled. 

After a meow of disappointment, he jumped off my lap and retreated to his chair in the corner of the living room. I let out a disgusting loud yawn as I made my way towards my kitchen, hoping I could find some form of leftovers that I could call dinner. 

“Nothing like cold pizza for the third night in a row,” I said while taking a large bite. 

The silence throughout my apartment was deafening. It was only Salem and I for the past six years and I wouldn’t change it for anything. 

A relationship wouldn’t actually be the worst thing in the world but between law school five days a week and shifts at the bar four days a week, I barely had enough time to go grocery shopping or clean my apartment. On my off days, I spent it either showering or sleeping for half of the day. 

My mother used to tell me of an old folk lore that her family used to believe while she was growing up. ‘Soulmate dreamers.’ She claimed that two people who are destined to be together dream of each other's memories; soulmates. My parents were soulmates but I still couldn’t believe the folk tale. Every single night I wouldn’t dream, just a blackness. It had been like that every night since I turned eighteen and as the years passed, I started to give up hope. 

“Buck, be careful with that. GOD DAMNIT!” 

Squinting my eyes at the sudden crash coming from the hallway, I ran over to my door and slowly opened it. Two men stood outside my door, both bent at the knees picking up a pile of books that seemed to have fallen out of a box. With the sound of my locks coming undone, the two men looked up and with a sheepish smile, the blonde nodded towards me. 

“I’m so sorry if we woke you.” His lips turned down in a small frown underneath his beard. 

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I just heard a crash and some yelling.” 

“Yeah butterfingers over here let the box slip,” the blonde nodded towards the other man. 

He had longer hair than the blonde and his beard was shorter than the blondes but something about his eyes froze me in place. Under his long sleeves, I could see his muscles tensed as he lifted up a large pile of books. 

“Uh-moving out?” I questioned after forcing myself to look away from the muscles. 

“In,” the blonde set down another box before extending his hand. “Steve.” 

My hand was small in his and the roughness of it scratched my palm. 

“Y/N.” 

I looked over to the other man but noticed that his back was towards me. He walked down the hall a few steps before stepping through an open door into the apartment right next to my own. 

“Buck’s not that great with new people,” Steve defended. 

My brows quirked up. “Buck?”

“Bucky or James. But I call him Buck,” Steve informed.

“Well, Steve, what brings you and Bucky here to Brooklyn?” I questioned while leaning against my open door frame. 

“Retirement.” 

“Aren't you guys a little young to retire?” I joked. 

He shrugged with a laugh. “We started our careers really young. Now we’re looking for something quiet.” 

“Well you guys are in luck because nothing happens here. It’s a pretty boring part of town.” I said. 

“Eh, doesn’t seem that bad. The neighbors are pretty cute,” Steve smirked. 

My cheeks blushed warm and after a quick nod, I pointed over my shoulder. “Goodnight Steve.”

Steve returned my smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

My body felt trapped as if someone was sitting on my chest while my arms and legs thrashed around my bed. I tried to speak, to yell, but my voice was in a vice grip as the nightmare forced me to listen to the screams and cries of strangers. Flash images of a sniper and a man dressed in black faded in and out before completely fading to black. 

I awoke in bed with a scream and looked around my room. The fear that I felt from those strangers in my dream ate away at me, something I couldn't shake; no matter how hard I tried. My heart hammered against its cage in my chest as I took deep breaths to calm myself down.  

“What a freak nightmare,” I groaned while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

Falling back to sleep was a distant memory and I had to force myself out of bed as another fun day of school all day with a closing bar shift right after standing in front of me. 

“Salem, do you want breakfast?” I questioned my feline companion as I came out of the bathroom, dressed for the long day ahead of me. 

After a quick scratch to Salem's head, I grabbed my bags and was out the door, large coffee in hand. 

“Morning, Y/N.”

“FUCK!” I cursed, almost dropping the large cup and placing a hand over my chest. 

Steve stood in front of me, hands up in defense. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

I let out a small breath of relief. “Oh, Steve. It’s okay, it's not your fault. I didn’t sleep much last night so I’m a little jumpy.” 

“That would explain the extra large coffee,” Steve smiled. 

“I wouldn’t survive law school without it,” I admitted. 

Steve’s eyes raised. “Law school, huh?” 

“Yeah, I’m in my final year. I’ve got exams today and Monday so I need all the coffee I can consume.” I smiled proudly. 

“Well, I’ll let you get going. Have a good day, Y/N.” Steve gave me a small smile. 

“You too, Steve.”

“You’re late.” 

Giving a sheepish grin to my manager, I said a quick apology while throwing my bags underneath the bar. “My exam ran long. But I can stay late if you need me.” 

A laugh erupted from my manager, Kim. “Nice try, Y/N. You’re already closing.” 

“Well it's the thought that counts,” I joked. 

It was well past six in the evening and the bar was jam packed, wall to wall with bodies getting ready to watch the football game. Friday nights were my favorite nights to work; a lot of people getting drunk and literally throwing their money towards me. 

Yet I also hated working Friday nights; the countless men throwing vulgar sayings towards me and trying their hardest to get my number. 

The next couple hours blurred together as I made drinks and small talk with many of my regulars. I had my back turned to the only two empty seats alongside the bar as I had an all too familiar conversation with one of my regulars, Becky. 

“Y/N, you’ve got to get out there and meet someone!” She slurred while raising her beer. “How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?”

“The only dates I get are the ones with you and my homework,” I smiled at her. 

“Here’s your chance! Look at the two new guys at the other end of the bar. I haven’t seen them here before,” she hiccuped. 

Looking over my shoulder, I found myself smiling at the familiar blonde and brunette who had their eyes glued to the drink menu. 

Excusing myself from Kim’s rant about how she would like to “take them to bed”, I stopped in front of Steve and Bucky with a large smile on my face. 

“Well look who we have here,” I sang while placing my forearms on the bar and leaning over towards them. 

It was hard to hear in the packed bar. 

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Steve smiled. 

Bucky remained quiet, eyes still glued towards the drink menu so I kept my attention on Steve. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Steve.” I reminded him. “So what are we drinking?”

Steve and Bucky had a quick and quiet conversation before Bucky nodded behind me. 

“Whatever you have on tap is fine.” 

I couldn’t help but freeze and blink at the sound of his voice. Something about it rang a large bell in my brain but I couldn't put a finger on what. 

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.” I nodded. 

My hands shook as I poured their drinks, trying to calm my shaking hands. I let out a few breaths before returning back to them, a smile playing at my lips. 

“Here ya go. Did you want to keep your tab open?” I asked. 

Steve nodded. “Yeah we’re not in a rush.” 

I nodded back and as I placed their drinks in front of them, I noticed Bucky went to grab it with his left hand that was covered with a leather glove. Not wanting to stare and be weird, I coughed while throwing a thumb over my shoulder. 

“I’ve got to make my rounds. Let me know if you guys need something.” 

A quick ten minutes passed by as I refilled many drinks and small talked before I decided to check on Bucky and Steve. I noticed, however, that Steve’s stool was empty and Bucky was staring at the TV behind the bar. 

The same weird feeling filled my veins and I took a deep breath hoping that whatever this feeling was that it would disappear soon. 

“Need a refill?” I motioned towards his almost empty glass. 

“Sure, thank you,” He nodded. 

“Would Steve like one?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he only stepped out for a call.” 

After filling up their glasses, I placed it back on the bar. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed and the way he kept his hands grasped together on the bar that he did not want to have a conversation, he wanted to be left alone. 

As the night went on, I couldn’t help but think of why Bucky wore the glove on his left hand. Maybe he was missing fingers? Or maybe his left hand gets colder than his right? 

“Christ Y/N, you don’t even know him and you can't stop thinking about him,” I muttered to myself as I wiped down the counter.

“Thinking about who?” Kim asked as she came up from behind me. 

“Can you not give your best bartender a heart attack, please?” I exasperated while clutching my chest. 

“Could you be thinking about the two men sitting at the end of the bar?” Kim raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. 

Giving a quick glance over her shoulder, I noticed that Steve and Bucky were still in their same spots, slowly nursing their third beer. They both looked like they were not in a rush to leave. 

Not that I was complaining. 

“They’re my new neighbors,” I admitted. “I can’t help but wonder about them.” 

“That’s a threesome I would love to be a part of.” Kim giggled. 

Shaking my head with a laugh, I motioned towards the stack of clean cups that were just placed on the bar. “I have work to do, Kim.” 

As I stacked the cups on the bar, I sensed someone sitting in the seat in front of me. I didn’t have to look up to see who it was, I could feel the creepiness ooze out of him. 

“What do you want, Mike?” I asked, not stopping what I was doing. 

“Go out with me,” Mike slurred while finishing off his beer. 

I shook my head. “You ask me out every Friday night and I always say no. When are you going to get it?” 

“C’mon. You’re saying no because you don’t know what you’re missing. Just one date.” 

“The reason why I always say no is because of your pregnant wife that waits for you to come home every night,” I informed while finally meeting his gaze. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” Mike grabbed my hand, a little too rough for my liking. 

“I’m only going to say this once, let go.” I stated, voice firm and not faltering. 

“Just one kiss?” His lips puckered as he started to lean over the bar. 

“She already said no. If you need help understanding, I’d be happy to help.” 

My eyes landed on Bucky who was now standing next to Mike and the way his shoulders tensed under his leather jacket made my stomach tingle. Mike dropped my hand before sauteing away, embarrassed he was turned down yet again. 

“Thank you,” I said to Bucky. “He comes in every Friday and still won’t take the hint I’m not interested.”

Bucky nodded with a small smile. “Anytime.” 

We fell in silence as our eyes locked and the blue color of his eyes rang that bell in my brain again. Something about those eyes were so familiar but I couldn’t tell how. 

“Um, did you and Steve need anything?” I asked, hoping to ease the sudden tension between us. 

“We’re ready to close the tab,” he stuttered for a moment, obviously feeling the sudden weird feeling that wrapped around us. 

A quick second later, I handed him the receipt with a quick thank you. “I’ll see you guys around?” 

Bucky nodded and handed back the receipt signed before walking out of the bar with Steve, who gave me a quick wave goodnight. 

I paid no attention to the name on the receipt, the $100 tip clipped to it immediately taking my attention. 

“Mom, I still have one more semester before I graduate. We shouldn’t be planning a party yet. Yes, I passed all of my exams. I have a two week break before classes start up again. No, I think I’m going to stay home and enjoy some me time. Oh god, no mother I will not go ask my neighbors to hang with me! I really wish I never told you about them. Alright, I’m hanging up now, love you.” 

With a loud sigh, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch with my body following. I had finished my last exams the other day and after passing them all, I decided to celebrate with a two week vacation from work. Just Salem and I in our apartment watching crappy movies and eating crappy food. 

I didn’t want to tell my mom that another reason why I wanted to stay home and recoup is because of the nightmares I was having. Every night for the last two weeks, I dream of people screaming and dying. The terrors kept me up and I was amazed that I was able to finish this semester without failing. 

“Where is that cat anyway?” I questioned while standing up from the couch. “Salem, baby, where are you?”

After looking in all of his favorite hiding spots twice, it was when I walked back into the living room that I finally noticed the front door was open just a tad; enough for him to walk through. 

I was on the phone with my mom when I returned back from my morning shift at work and must have forgotten to shut the door behind me. 

“Fuck,” I cursed while running out into the hall. “Salem?!” 

A door clicked open and Steve was in the hall, a worried look on his face. “Hey, everything alright?” 

Letting out a shaky breath, I shook my head. “My cat got out and I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Is he black?” Steve questioned while leaning against his doorframe. 

“Yeah, have you seen him?” I asked, hopeful. 

Steve only nodded and motioned for me to follow him. 

Once in his apartment, I found myself breathing a large sigh of relief at the sight in front of me. Salem was lounging on their couch cuddling with a beautiful white, long haired cat. 

“It seems like Salem found himself a girlfriend,” Steve laughed. 

“I didn’t know you guys had a cat,” I said while picking up Salem and giving him love. 

Steve motioned me to sit on the couch, which I happily obliged. “Alpine is Bucky’s.”

“Well, she’s adorable. If Salem goes missing again, I’ll know where to look.” I giggled as Salem jumped from my lap and laid next to Alpine again. “Thank you for finding him.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve questioned. 

Immediately I shook my head. “No, I should probably go. We’ve imposed enough.” 

I said the last part towards Salem mostly and went to leave but Steve shook his head. 

“You’re not. Salem is welcome here anytime. You too.” 

Steve’s small smile warmed my heart and I found myself lounging into the couch. “Thank you.”

We made small talk for a while, him asking how my semester finished at school, and I swore I never told him about finishing but waved it off. I’ve been so tired lately that I could have easily forgotten to tell him. 

“So how are you and Bucky liking Brooklyn?” I asked. 

Steve leaned back into the couch and rested his arm across the back of it. “We both actually grew up here. We left for work and decided to spend the rest of our days here.” 

Something about the way that Steve said put a little fear and hesitation in me. Even with his long hair slicked back and his full beard covering his face, something about him rang some sort of familiarity in me. 

“So,” I started, deciding to change the subject hoping the fear would disappear, “Where is Bucky?”

Steve’s brows perked at my interest in his roommate's whereabouts. “What, I’m not good enough for the company?” 

A loud giggle left my lips. “Eh, you’re alright.” 

We both shared a loud laugh and suddenly, the front door opened and a very sweaty Bucky entered the apartment. My eyes locked in on his broad chest that the muscles were defined in his extra tight Henley. The long sleeves encased his large arms and when I noticed the leather glove on his left hand again, I quickly averted my gaze back to his face. To my surprise, he was doing the same to me. 

His eyes took in my tired appearance and when they rested on Salem next to me, a small smile came to his lips. “You just can't stay away from Alpine, can ya buddy?” 

My eyes doubled in size. “He’s been here before?!” 

Bucky walked into the kitchen and took a long swig of water before nodding. “A few times now. I found out he walks through the fire escape and comes in through the open window in my bedroom.” 

I looked at Salem, appalled that he was having these little rendezvous. 

“So that’s what you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone?” I asked him. 

His face said everything he would if he could talk. 

Absolutely zero fucks given. 

“I’m so sorry that he keeps on bothering you guys.” I apologized to them. 

“It’s alright, we don’t mind him.” Steve informed as Salem jumped into his lap. 

The clock on the wall let me know that I was here for over an hour. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your night.”

Salem followed suit as Steve walked us to the door, showing us out. Bucky remained in his place in the kitchen and I felt his gaze on me as I walked out.

“No, please!” 

My body was locked into place on my bed, the nightmare pressing down on me. 

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t kill me!”

Soft whimpers escaped my closed lips as hands wrapped around a throat, cutting off their airway. 

The scene changed to a large room with a chair in the middle. Screams were heard bouncing off the walls, screams of pain and despair. A man dressed in an old army uniform stood in front of me, a language I had not known coming from his lips. He only spoke ten words. 

Longing. 

Rusted. 

Seventeen. 

Daybreak.

Furnace. 

Nine. 

Benign. 

Homecoming. 

One.

Freight car. 

Even though it was in a language I hadn’t heard before, I understood every single word. 

“Soldat?” 

“Ready to comply.” 

The voice came from my own throat and I awoke in a quick start, a loud scream ringing throughout my apartment. I shook with fear, that voice sounded so familiar and it shook me to the core knowing that a different voice came through me. 

A loud knock sounding at my front door caused me to jump from my bed, my body falling onto the floor with a hard thud. I backed myself into the corner of my room as the knocking continued, afraid that whatever nightmare I was having was coming true. 

“Y/N?” 

Bucky’s soft voice sounded outside my front door and with a quick jump, I was at my door, opening it slightly. 

I was met with his very tired eyes and suddenly felt guilty for waking him up from my nightmares. 

“Hey, I heard you screaming. Is everything alright?” He questioned while peaking over my head into my apartment. 

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” 

My voice came out hoarse and quiet. 

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

Giving him a small smile of thanks, I shut the door and quickly locked it. Not before noticing that he only kept his left hand in his pocket the entire time. 

I sat up in bed, arms wrapped around my knees that were pulled up against my chest, afraid that if I fell asleep again that I would have another nightmare. The sun was casting a golden glow in my room and the warmth felt nothing against my cold skin. 

After Bucky left, I couldn’t find it in myself to fall back asleep so I tried everything I could to stay awake; multiple cups of coffee, listening to music, and watching countless movies. I was starting to lose the fight, feeling exhausted and before I could stop myself my body fell onto the mattress, sleep winning. 

Two men dressed in suits walked up stairs to an apartment. The warm summer breeze blowing through their hair. My hand extended towards the other man, the face being so familiar but yet unknown to me, and he took the key with gratitude. 

“Thank you but I can get by on my own.” The smaller man said. 

“The thing is, you don’t have too.” 

Words escaped through my lips again, in a different voice. 

This dream was different from all the others. I didn't feel death or scared; I felt warmth and love. 

My hand was placed on the smaller man's shoulders. “I’m with you till the end of the line, punk.” 

“I know, jerk.”

My dream shifted to another memory and I found myself being surrounded with trees and a large group of people around me. I was invisible to them, no one noticed I was there. There were cheers and applause, something worth celebrating for. 

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

I awoke and found myself back into my own apartment, Salem laying softly next to me with a quiet purr coming from him. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, I rolled out of bed and walked into the open main living space of my apartment and was getting ready to find something for breakfast but my feet froze when I noticed what time it exactly was. 

“Six o'clock?! What the hell, did I sleep the whole day away?” I groaned. 

Debating on what I would do with the rest of my night, I decided that I would try and relax by taking a hot bubble bath. After that much needed bath, I walked back into the living room in my usual pjs that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of an ex's boxers, and noticed that Salem was not alone on the couch; Alpine had decided to join us tonight. 

“Well hello, does your dad know you’re over here?” 

As soon as the words left my lips, there was a knock at my door. 

Blue eyes pierced my own as the door opened and I was overtaken with an urge to jump into Bucky’s arms; I didn’t. 

It was already awkward enough that I was standing in front of him looking like a hot mess. 

“I’m guessing Alpine is over here?” He asked while leaning against the door frame. 

I nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I can send her back home if you’d like but I do have to say, they look pretty comfortable.” 

Moving to the side, I let Bucky peek into my apartment at the couch where our two cats laid cuddled together. 

“You can send her home later,” Bucky laughed. “I’ll let you get back to your night.” 

Before I could stop myself, I gently grabbed his right arm to stop him. “Actually, if you want to stay you can. I was going to order some food and watch a movie.” 

Bucky stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket and hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“Not at all,” I spoke with a smile and opened the door more to let him inside. 

“Uh, Steve was actually picking up some Chinese for us. I could tell him to pick something up for you too,” Bucky suggested. 

“That would be great, thank you. I’m fine with whatever you guys are having.” 

While Bucky was on the phone with Steve, I quickly excused myself to change. I suddenly found myself wanting to impress Bucky. After deciding on a pair of skin tight leggings and an oversized white knit sweater, I tossed my hair a bit, giving it some type of wave, before walking out into the main living area. 

“Steve is going to be awhile. The Chinese place is busy,” Bucky informed me. 

I waved him off, saying it was alright. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Beer is fine, thank you.” 

After giving him one, I sat on the opposite side of the couch while pulling my feet under me. 

“How long have you and Steve known each other?” I asked. 

“Uh, since we were kids. We basically grew up on the playground together.” 

Something about him and my nightmares had this weird connection that I wasn’t able to put my finger on. If my mother had a say in it she would tell me that it was the whole ‘soulmate dreamers’ but I never believed in that stuff. It was an old wise tale that  her great-great-great grandparents told her.

“Well what do you want to know about me? Ask me anything,” I offered. 

Bucky placed his empty bottle on the table in front of him before leaning back into the couch. His arm rested on the back, fingers close to my knees. 

“Steve said that you’re in law school?” He asked. 

“Yup, I’ve got one semester left before I graduate.” I spoke proudly. “My parents have six kids, me being the oldest, so being the first one to graduate is big. My mom wants to start planning a party.”

“She seems very proud,” Bucky noted. 

I nodded. “She is. I don’t see my family very much, they live in Greece. I moved here at eighteen for school.” 

“That sounds tough.” 

“It can be at times.” I admitted. 

A silence fell between us and I looked over to his arm that rested on the back of the couch, noticing he was wearing the glove again. I then remembered that he only ever wore long sleeves when I was around. I knew it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but wonder what was underneath his shirt and glove. 

Suddenly I found myself wondering what was underneath his black sweatpants and heat spread through my body. Flash images of two people in bed together played in my mind. Sweaty, hot bodies pressed against each other and their moans were in sync. 

“Y/N?” 

Looking towards Bucky, the images disappeared from my mind, and I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

He nodded towards the door. “Steve’s here.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

I let Steve in with a smile, saying thank you for picking up some food. 

“Was I interrupting something?” He questioned while nodding towards Bucky's beer bottle and my empty wine glass. 

“Not at all, we were just talking.” I said. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

As I set out the food on the table, Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder. 

“Next time you’re picking up the food, punk.” 

Bucky laughed. “Sure thing, jerk.” 

My body froze when I heard those familiar words. 

Punk. 

Jerk.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Steve asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Uh, actually I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry guys but I’m going to have to cut the night short.” I lied. 

Bucky went to speak but I stopped him by nodding towards the door. “Can you lock up for me?” 

Not bothering to hear their response, I ran into my room and locked the door behind me. 

Weeks had passed by, me busying myself with school and work, as I tried to avoid Steve and Bucky. Ever since that night we all hung out, I tried to make sense of this whole situation. I didn’t know much about them and was afraid of what I would find out. 

The nightmares had ended after that night and I could sleep easier knowing that the screams of death would no longer haunt me. 

I still felt guilty, however, ignoring Steve and Bucky. They both had been nothing but nice and sweet to me and I cut them out of my life with no explanation. 

Letting out a soft sigh, I let my door close behind me as I made my way towards the laundry room on my floor. My laundry had started to pile up and I knew I couldn't keep hiding out in my apartment. I was running out of clean clothes. 

A soft tune from the 1940’s played through my phone, me finding this music relaxing, as I was shut out of the outside world. My hips swayed to the music and I was oblivious to the man who entered the room.

“You’ll never know how many dreams. I’ve dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you. So kiss me once, then kiss me twice then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time,” I softly sang the words. 

“This has to be one of my favorite songs.” 

Dropping my basket of clothes on the ground, I turned on my heels and was face to face with one of the men I was avoiding. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I questioned. 

Bucky set his basket of clothes down on the table. “Since the start of the song.” 

“Well, I’m just about finished.” I rushed while picking up the clothes that fell out of my basket.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Bucky asked. 

I shook my head. “I’ve been busy with school and work. Speaking of which, I’ve got a paper due in an hour so I should get started.”

As I tried to walk out, Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. “If I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” 

“Bucky, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just been really busy.” I admitted with a sigh. 

Finally looking up at him, I noticed how close we were and I sucked in a breath. His lips were plump and punk from underneath his beard and I fought the urge to see how they tasted. 

He gently raised a hand to move a strand of hair from my face. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

His voice was soft and quiet.  

“I really should get started on that paper,” I whispered.

Gloved fingers grazed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. I couldn't ignore the coldness that seeped through the leather.  

“Before you go,” Bucky’s breath fanned over my lips and his other hand reached around my hip, “You don’t want to forget this.” 

My eyes looked away from him and my cheeks burned with fire when I noticed that he was holding up one of my red lace bra and panty sets. I hastily grabbed them and tossed them into my basket. 

“I bet red looks really good on you,” He murmured into my neck.

Heat filled my veins at the gruffness of his voice and I shifted on my feet trying to hide my arousal. 

“I’ll-uh-see you around, Bucky.” I muttered while quickly running out of the room back to my apartment to take a long, cold shower. 

Tightness engulfed my throat as the air was being sucked out of me. I tried to yell, scream, but nothing would come out. The hand around my throat tightened with every fight and my vision became hazy. Life was being squeezed out of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

My eyes, before fading to black, looked from the dark eyes peeking through the long strands of hair and down towards the arm that was wrapped around my neck. Except it wasn't a normal arm, it was cold and hard. 

It was metal. 

A loud knock woke me from my nap on the couch and I let out a big sigh of relief that I was able to breathe again. This was the first nightmare I had in weeks and this one felt so real; I truly thought I was going to die. 

Another knock sounded on the door. 

“Coming!” I yelled while getting up from the couch. 

“Let’s go.” 

Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my apartment, locking the door behind me. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to plant my feet in place. 

“You’ve been ignoring us for weeks, Y/N. You’re hanging out with us tonight.” 

“But-,” I started. 

We stopped in front of Steve’s door and he shook his head. “Bucky said you’ve been busy with school and work so you’re relaxing with beers and crappy movies, okay?”

Realizing that this was a fight I wasn’t going to win, I sighed. “Fine but you’re paying for the beers. And I want an extra large cheese pizza.” 

“Deal,” Steve smiled. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.” Steve let me into his apartment and with a quick wave, he was down the stairs. 

I could hear water running behind a door and I figured that Bucky was in the shower. Biting my lip, I tried to picture what he looked like with the water cascading down his broad chest to his hips and even lower.

“Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” I muttered while sitting on the couch. 

I spent the next few minutes cuddling with Alpine, waiting for Steve to return, and when the bathroom door clicked open my previous thoughts had come true. 

Bucky stood in front of me with a black towel wrapped loosely around his waist, obviously not expecting me to be sitting in front of him. Water dripped from his hair and I followed it down his naked torso. My mouth ran dry when I noticed the glistening shine coming from his arm. 

His metal arm. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, not bothering to tighten the towel around him. 

I could tell that he was nervous when he saw that I couldn’t take my eyes off his left arm. 

“Uh-Steve, he uh, went to get something to eat,” I stammered over my words. 

The man that I had been dreaming about, having nightmares about, was standing in front of me and I realized that the folklore my mom used to tell me growing up was in fact true. 

Bucky was my soulmate. 

“Your arm,” I pointed towards it. “Oh my god, you killed people.” 

Bucky shifted, his body tensed. “I can explain.” 

I stood on my feet and made a run for the door. Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. His bare chest was in front of me and I refused to look into his eyes. 

“Please let me explain, Y/N,” He pleaded. 

I shook my head, voice almost gone. “I really should go.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” His hands cupped my face and forced me to look at him. “I’m not that person anymore. That was years ago.” 

When I didn’t fight him, he sighed before continuing. “Just give me five minutes and I can tell you wherever you want to know.”

“I already know what I need to know. I dreamed of your memories for months, their screams and cries kept me up every single night,” I stated. 

Before I could register what was going on, Bucky had me over his shoulder and was walking towards his room. My butt fell onto his bed with a soft thud and he kicked the door shut. I backed up as far as I could, my back hitting his headboard. 

“Y/N, please,” Bucky begged. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done so already?” 

When I was silent, he knew that I couldn’t argue with that question. 

“Why’d you do it?” I questioned, voice shaky with sobs. 

“I’ll explain everything as long as you’ll let me but can I get dressed first?” He motioned towards the towel.

Giving a small nod, I turned my back to him, allowing him to get dressed. When the bed dipped down next to me, I looked over to him and noticed he opted out of putting on a shirt. His metal arm out on full display. 

“I never thought it was true; soulmate dreamers. My mom would tell me these stories growing up but that's all I thought they were. Stories,” I said. 

“That’s why you dreamed of my memories?” Bucky asked. 

I nodded. “They weren’t all bad. I dreamt of times with both you and Steve. You two were in a war and you called him Captain America?” 

That was when Bucky explained everything. How after his time in the war, he was kidnapped by this highly known terrorist group called Hydra and they used him and his arm as a weapon of destruction. They would freeze him then unfreeze him when they needed him to kill someone. When he was done, they would wipe his memory and freeze him again. Which would explain why he looked so young; he was born in 1917. 

“I don’t understand. I’ve been living in New York for years and I can’t believe I’ve never heard of you guys before,” I said astonished. “And Steve was frozen in ice for over 70 years?”

“After everything we’ve been through, we decided to come back home and try to live normally,” Bucky said. 

I sat up on my knees. “Did you ever have dreams of me?” 

A warm smile played on Bucky's lips. “Every night.” 

“Of what?” 

“When you were five years old and your parents surprised you with the puppy you’d been wanting for so long. Or the time that after your 16th birthday, you snuck out of your house to see a boy but after you climbed down the tree, your dad was outside waiting for you.” 

A giggle left my lips. “I got in so much trouble.” 

“My favorite is when you were singing in the laundry room to my favorite song. That was when I knew I was in love with you,” Bucky admitted. 

“That happened earlier today,” I reminded him. 

Bucky nodded. “I knew it from the moment I saw you when I moved in that you were my soulmate. I dreamt of you for months before meeting you.” 

“What does this mean now?” I wondered while reaching for his metal hand. “We both know that we’re meant to be together but what do we do?”

His flesh fingers brought my face closer to his and without saying a word, our lips collided together. The kiss was fast, needy, but slow at the same time. His lips tasted exactly how I thought they would; minty. I climbed into his lap while running my hands through his hair, deepening the kiss. 

“Bucky,” I mumbled into his lips.

“Hm?” 

“I. really. Don't. want. To,” I spoke in between kisses. “I don’t want to ruin the moment but we’ve got four eyes staring at us.” 

Bucky pulled away and we both looked over to the window where both Alpine and Salem stood, watching us. 

“It seems like we’re not the only soulmates,” I giggled, feeling Bucky’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of my neck. 

“You know what I’m wondering?” He pondered. 

“What's that?” I breathed while brushing the hair out of his face. 

“If you’re wearing that red number underneath these clothes,” Bucky groaned. 

I raised my eyebrows in seduction. “Why don’t you find out?” 

Our laughs and moans were heard throughout his apartment. That night I slept with a warm body next to mine and the nightmares had stopped; for good. 

[bisexualchaosdemon]

Twins run in the family.

Aaron and Katelyn get married after graduating from Palmetto, before they go off to med school together. It takes them pretty far from Andrew, but they work to keep in touch.

In the last year of their four year MDs, Kate gets pregnant — A happy accident. Then, they find out they're having twins, just, holy fuck. Kate is determined to not let it slow her down, though, because she's a bad bitch. Then Andrew suggests that they move closer to him and Neil once they graduate.

This leads to a few long and difficult conversations. Andrew admits that he would like to see Aaron more and to have a relationship with his nieces. Aaron admits that he does miss Andrew being close by and that they could use the extra support. In the end, they agree after Andrew actually apologies to Katelyn for the way he treated her in the beginning.

No one regrets the decision. Aaron and Katelyn are beyond grateful for the support as they start their careers. Andrew absolutely adores his nieces, more so than he ever thought he could. Neil is happy because Andrew is happy.

But it isn't always easy. It's hard because they both see it; the girls are what Andrew and Aaron could have been if they were never separated. If Tilda had been capable of being a good mother to her twins. And it fucking hurts.

Somehow, this pain leads to Aaron planting a seed in Andrew's mind — What if Andrew and Neil were to start fostering? Andrew thinks his brother has finally lost it. It's ludicrous, insane, impossible, but– Is it? Helping foster kids could be nice, and it's not like they can't stop if it's too much.

Once Neil has his own separate crisis about it, they decide to go for it. Andrew and Neil sure as hell know how not to raise a kid and they have yet to completely traumatise any of the kids in their lives. So a fuck ton of paperwork and hoop-jumping later, they find themselves in a group home to see if there's a kid there they can help.

That's when they find not one kid, but two. Tucked away in a corner they find twin girls, maybe a year younger than Aaron's girls, who only speak Russian. They hadn't intended to jump in at the deep-end like that, but something about them puts Andrew on alert. So they take the girls home with them.

And it is so, so much harder than they had expected. They had only prepped for one kid, but that's easily fixed. It's not so easy to fix the fact that the girls absolutely do not trust them. But Andrew and Neil are persistent; they don't push for trust, but they make sure to prove to the girls that they are safe at every turn.

Slowly, achingly slowly, the girls start to relax. They start to open up. And Andrew realises something so much worse than the pain that got them here.

Andrew realises that his twins are like him and Aaron too, but if Tilda left them both in the system. They are the real life result of his own worst nightmare.

[propertyofwicked]

WORKPLACE PREDICAMENT - LN

part 2 to homesick <3 (potentially a part 3 incoming?)

warnings - none, just heavy on the angst, hurt/comfort and a cheeky bit of fluff

masterlist

the sun rose late, light shining through the window, illuminating the empty white walls. y/n scrunched her eyes up, the sun too bright, as she kicked herself for not shutting her curtains when she went to bed the night before. it took a moment for her to even realise she was laying on her sofa, the chair so new and unused that the fabric was stiff, uncomfortable, and digging in her side. she pushed her body upright, her eyes searching for her phone as her mind ran over the events of last night.

she’d fallen asleep in the offices, lando had driven her home, and sat with her till she fell asleep. no, she thought, shaking her head - he held her till she fell asleep. and if she digs deeper in her memories, the feeling of his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head as he whispered goodnight plagues her brain, pulling at her emotions. she’d promised not to let her school girl crush on a colleague get out of hand, but when they kiss your head and hold you till you fall asleep - what else is a girl supposed to do?

y/n didn’t dare to imagine the HR nightmare this could be if she allowed the situation to develop, so much so that she sighed in relief that she had to following week booked off to allow her to move in and settle in the new flat.

lando, however, was panicking.

he’d awoken several hours before her, the jet lag complicating his sleep schedule. he wasn’t sure how long he’d spent staring down at her sleeping form, legs curled up into her chest as her head rested on his lap. his fingers played with strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ears as he fought back the urge to bend down and kiss her again.

their close friendship was inevitable, everyone thought so. their personalities complimented each other well, the two of them could always be found giggling about something together. however, it was only in this moment that lando realised his need to be near her, his calm nature when she was present at his races or the urge he felt to always make sure she was alright was more than friendship. he wanted to know everything about her, her favourite colour, what she was allergic to, how she got that scar on her knee.

the reason he felt an overwhelming urge to care for y/n the previous night, and the strong desire he felt to do it every night became clearer and clearer with every corner lando turned on his way to the mclaren offices. he had a strong feeling it was the same reason he felt ridden with guilt when he prised her arms from him this morning, holding her head gently before lowering on to the sofa as he snuck out of her flat.

lando norris had a crush. a HR violating crush, that could destroy her entire career if he acted on it.

as he walked into the offices, he found himself face to face with oscar, who looked him up and down for a moment, deep in thought, before returning back to his face, eyes widening in realisation. until that very moment, lando had forgotten about the reason he had even been in the offices at 3am that morning, the events of the night returning to his mind. he hadn’t been home in between, he was wearing the same outfit oscar had seen him in mere 5 hours before, however his clothes now had y/n’s vanilla perfume embedded in the fibres.

lando shook his head at him, pleading for the australian to stay silent. his eyes darted around, looking for an empty side room, before nodding his team mate in that direction, silently telling him to follow him.

“so…” oscar started, closing the door quietly behind him, “how is she?”

“she’s… good?” lando replied, unsure where to start.

“and you’re in the same clothes because…?” oscar continued, leading the conversation for lando to fill in.

“i haven’t been home?” he replied wincing a little at how it sounds, “but nothing happened. she was upset, so we watched a film and she fell asleep on me.”

“right,” oscar nods, starting to understand. secretly, he’d always rooted for y/n and lando, noticing the connection between the two of them as many others had.

“she hates being alone,” lando added, still trying to justify himself, despite oscar never accusing him of anything, “the new flat, she hates it. too quiet, too lonely. she just needed someone there.”

“not someone, lando, you. she needed you there,” oscar replied, deciding to finally bring up the elephant in the room. lando didn’t respond, deciding to nod at his team mate whilst remaining deep in thought.

“and i wanted that. i liked that she needed me,” he said finally, looking up to see oscar’s face bearing a satisfied smile.

“what did she say to you when she woke up?” oscar asked, with genuine interest. lando grimaced again.

“she didn’t.”

“what do you mean she didn’t?” oscar asked, confusion written over his face until - “you left while she was asleep?”

“i needed to go to work and she just looked so peaceful and-” lando started, sighing deeply before his next statement, “and then i realised i wanted to see that every day. her waking up, getting ready, you know, like, domestic stuff. and then i realised i like her a lot more than i thought i did, and a lot more than HR would be happy about.”

“fuck HR,” oscar said, clapping his hands onto lando’s shoulders, “you like her mate, and i know she feels the same. do what makes you happy, worry about the consequences later.”

“she likes me back?” lando asked, smiling at the news, whilst choosing to ignore this new side of oscar who suddenly doesn’t think about consequences.

“everyone sees the way she looks at you. you could literally kill a puppy and she’d still look at you as if you hung the moon and stars.”

lando nodded at him, feeling the conversation come to a natural end as they left the room, starting up a new conversation about the meeting they had later that day.

lando decided he’d speak to her about it when she came in for her shift later, he started planning how he’d ask her to join him for dinner that evening, or maybe he’d invite her out for a late night drive. but his chance never arose, y/n never showed up.

and he didn’t see her in person till the following week. he had walked into the paddock, his mood still low when y/n still hadn’t been at the offices, or on the jet for the race weekend. he knew she was ok, as she had been interacting in their work associated group chats, all the while leaving his texts on delivered for hours, and only responding with the bare minimum when she did.

had he gone too far? he hadn’t meant to call her angel, he hadn’t meant to over insert himself in her life. did she know how he felt about her and it wasn’t mutual?

he’d spent the whole week beating himself up, believing he’d made her so uncomfortable that she’d gone MIA, and despite oscar’s reassurance, he couldn’t help but be miserable. but upon entering the mclaren hospitality centre, he heard her all too familiar laugh, his eyes immediately darting around the room till it settled on her frame. her hair was tied up in a low bun, keeping her hair from her eyes as she conversed with oscar.

he walked up to them slowly, anticipating a negative reaction from y/n, but once again found himself surprised when she turned and smiled at him.

“hey, we wondered where you’d got to,” she started, “i need to take a few pictures of you both in the garage for instagram. maybe a track walk video for stories?”

he nodded at her, dwelling on her almost professional tone. she was smiling, but there was no friendly teasing about how late he was, no jokes about his hair being a mess.

“just gimme 2 minutes to dump my bag and im all yours,” he replied, smiling at her again before locating his personal room.

im all yours ran through y/n’s brain like a mantra that day, it felt like her brain was bullying her, constantly reminding her that he was in fact, not all hers. she’d spent the week thinking of lando, and only him. how he speaks, how respectful he is, his charming nature, his curls. he would be the death of her, and she could never have him. ultimately, she decided that distancing herself would be the best course of action. keep it professional, keep it friendly, keep your job - she tried to remind herself every time she caught herself staring at him for longer than normal.

y/n wholeheartedly believed the rest of the weekend went well. she got her job done, remained professional and kept all her clothes on when lando stepped out of his car, sweating lightly and looking as if the gods had sculpted him.

lando wholeheartedly believed she was being insufferable and childish. she wouldn’t talk to him if it wasn’t work related, always managed to be ‘busy’ when he needed to talk, and spent more time talking to some of the engineers than she had ever spoken to them before. he was seething. he wasn’t annoyed at her, per say, more himself for letting it happen.

which is how he ended up outside her hotel room, knocking aggressively on her door 3 times before stepping back and fiddling with his fingers.

when she opened the door, lando stuttered saying hello, taken aback at the way her hair framed her face. she was wearing one of his old t-shirts he’d given her after a work christmas party - it hung low on her, almost covering the small cotton shorts she wore underneath. to him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“lando? what’s wrong?” she asked with genuine concern, her voice soft as her eyes widened at him. but for some reason, this angered him. how could she not know what was wrong?

“what’s wrong?” he repeated cruelly, watching as she flinched back at his anger, “you. you’re what’s wrong. why have you been ignoring me all week? i understand you were busy but not even a text back? and then, i see you in person and you act as if you hardly know me?”

he doesn’t know why he’s lashing out at her, it was as much his fault as it was hers.

“i had the week booked off,” she started explaining, noticing how lando’s face contorted from anger to guilt, “i booked it off so i had a week to move in to the flat and get settled. i didn’t text you ‘cos i was trying to move my stuff in, all whilst getting wifi installed and sorting out my bills?”

now, she was annoyed. she was giving him space, protecting herself from inevitable rejection. she knew she wasn’t being the best of friends, but that didn’t give him the right to turn up at her door and shout at her.

“and you couldn’t tell me that?” he argued back, “takes all of 20 seconds to put that in a text, y/n. i could’ve helped you move your stuff in. look, if i’ve done something to upset you, i’m gonna need you to tell me. ive been racking my brain for a week and not one thing is standing out to me.”

“look, lando. i’m sorry if you felt neglected, but i just needed to sort some things out. i’m here now, aren’t i? been here all weekend?”

“barely,” he snorted in response, anger still running through him.

“barely?” she questioned, “im right here? i did the track walk with you? i was in the media pen for your interviews? ive been here all weekend.”

“no, y/n, you haven’t. work y/n has been here, she’s been doing her job all week. my y/n is no where to be seen.”

her heart fluttered slightly, he claimed her as his own. she had to take a step back and remind herself that it meant nothing.

“i’m sorry lan,” she replied sadly, “i’m trying. i am. it’s just been rough recently.”

“i know, y/n,” he said, his tone softening for the first time in the whole conversation, “but im here for you. i want to be there for you when things get rough - why wont you just talk to me?”

she contemplated telling him the truth then and there, his sad eyes tempting her more and more every second she looked at them.

“i can’t talk to you about this lando. not right now,” she replied, pushing the door to close between the two of them. his foot stepped out, stopping the door from closing fully.

“y/n, i am in love with you. and i don’t know why or when it happened, but i am. and if that makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. but i want to be with you, i want to know your past, i want to be in your future. please, y/n, let’s just talk about this,” he pleaded, laying his heart out on the table for her to see.

“goodnight lando,” she said bluntly, slamming the door shut. lando stood still, his blood ran cold, his heart plummeting, and the hallway fell silent. he heard the lock turning on her door, and turned to leave. but then he heard it, he heard her sobs through the door, and the fabric of her t-shirt sliding against the door as she fell to the floor.

something told him to leave, but her door felt like a magnet, pulling him towards it, as he slid down to the floor resting against it. lando heard the way her breathing faltered, air getting caught in the back of her throat as she cried.

“y/n, i know you can hear me,” he started again, turning to speak to the door, “please, y/n. talk to me. what’s wrong? have i ruined this? ‘cos im more than happy to move on and pretend i didn’t say anything.”

he heard her sniff, taking a deep breath in as she did - he knew this was her attempt to regulate herself.

“i can’t lose this job, lando. i spent so long getting to where i am now - i can’t risk losing my job,” she said, her head in her hands and tears continued to spill.

“why would you lose your job over me loving you, y/n? that’s on me.”

“because i love you too,” she replied, defeated.

lando is pretty sure this is both the best and worst moment of his adult life. she loved him back, but she still sat on the floor of a hotel room, crying out to him from behind a locked door. he didn’t reply immediately. he understood her fears, he too had considered the impact on both of them if anything ever happened between the two.

“i love my job, lando. i love working with you, with oscar. hell i love everyone i work with. and i can’t put myself in a position of losing that all because i love you more than anyone else.”

oscar’s words ran through his mind on a loop - fuck HR, worry about the consequences later.

“y/n, please open the door.”

she said nothing, and his heart dropped once more, until he heard the click of the latch, and felt the door move from his back. he looked up at her once more, noticing that she still looked beautiful with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. he scrambled to his feet, taking the girl in a tight embrace as he walked the two of them into the room.

“i didn’t want to leave you that morning, you know.”

“i know,” she said, nodding into his shoulder.

“i just - i panicked, you know?”

she moved back, looking up at him confused - why was he panicking? mclaren were never going to sack their star driver over a workplace relationship.

“but then oscar said something that resonated with me.”

“you told oscar?”

“oscar knew before i did,” he said, shrugging, keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“what did oscar say?”

“he said fuck HR. at the time, i didn’t see anything wrong with that. i knew you liked this job, but i was so ignorant to think you’d risk your career for me.”

“it’s not that i don’t want to, lan. im scared,” she replied, tears still rolling down her cheeks as her mind plagued with guilt.

“i know, angel,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead again, “i’m sorry for putting this on you. whatever you want to do next, i’m happy to do. if you want me to leave and never talk about this again, that’s fine.”

“i just need some time,” she said nervously, “i need some time to think. that’s not a no, it’s not a rejection. i just need some time.”

he nodded at her, not necessarily happy about the outcome, but happier than he had been all week.

“and that’s perfectly fine. you tell me when you’re ready and we go from there, ok?” he told her, raising a hand to push the hair out her face, before coming back to wipe away the stray tears on her cheek.

“do you want to stay?” she asked, pulling her hands away to twist her fingers around nervously, “we could watch a film?”

“i’d love nothing more,” he replied, smiling down at her.

he threw himself on her bed, as he always did, making sure he didn’t overstep her boundaries. this whole situation was new to the both of them.

“your hair looked shit this week, you need a trim,” she said randomly as she joined him on the bed, as if she’d been dwelling on it for a while. lando snorted, laughing at her abruptness.

“there we go, there’s the y/n i know - my y/n.”

[haveyouseenmyhat]

Hot take but… Lance Stroll is one of my top 3 favorite drivers.

Lance Stroll is such a strong example of the human character, lance stoll is me if I was on a F1 grid and not a fanfic writer.

A lot of people have complaints about Lance being a nepo baby but this is ridiculous because almost every single one of the F1 drivers bought a place on the grid including Max Verstappen the current world champion. And if not most are now wealthy from their time in F1 and not doing anything significant with that money.

Notable exceptions to Lewis Hamilton and Sebastion Vettle, but really that's so 2012.

No, the reason most ‘F1 bros’ out there don't like Lance Stroll is because he was given the thing every F1 fan ever wanted, a place on the grid, and is doing nothing with that despite having talent and yet continues to race despite looking bored out of his mind. These ‘F1 bros’ are envious, plain and simple.

Which is incredibly hypocritical because Lance Stroll cannot control the circumstances of his birth any more than you can. And to critique someone for not taking advantage of every single opportunity provided to them requires a person to exist on a plane of existence where they also took advantage of every single opportunity ever presented before them. Have you? Based on the demographic of English speaking social media users, even you must have been given a start in life that someone else would kill for.

A person reading this might say the opportunity to use social media, go to school, to read, and write is normal, whereas the wealth to buy your way on a F1 team is not. However, literacy is only normal for people in wealthy countries and is determined by your social peers. The same way Lance Stroll might view the wealth of billionaires normal and insignificant, as those are the peers he grew up with.

So if we remove the fame and wealth superiority complex that some people give celebrities for merely existing, what is left behind with Stroll is something I deeply relate to: gifted kid syndrome and parental pressures. Stroll only races because it was his father’s dream to be in F1. As Stroll's father became more and more involved in Stroll's career his driving suffered. Every race is a constant evaluation of Stroll's own performance by his dad who is also his boss. Imagine the pressure you would feel if every aspect of your job was scrutinized by your parents? And if those same parents expect you to be the best in the world at that job? I would struggle too.

Furthermore, after Stroll's dad bought a F1 team, something unseen by the other F1 nepo babies until now, social media freaked out. Now instead of backroom deals hinting at wealth, Lance's dad is the owner front and center. Leading to a large online hate group for the driver.

Imagine showing up to your incredibly public job every day knowing everyone watching hopes you will fail. I think this might be my worst nightmare.

People talk about how Lance Stroll is rude to his Team and other F1 drivers. These people clearly know nothing about PR. In competitive sports it is difficult to be humble, when you are not one of the better players. This is because the world's best football player can be humble and everyone will still understand their value, but the worlds worst football player being humble makes them look unconfident and unworthy of playing. Although, I personally would argue to always be humble, F1 is primarily a male dominated sport, with male dominated press and employees, and men are not known for their emotional maturity. More important I am not naive to believe everyone puts others before themselves like I do. In which case humbleness would severely limit an individual's opportunities.

Furthermore, not a single person on the grid who tries to be nice to Lance Stroll. And yes that is Stroll's fault, but at this point in time I can no longer blame Stroll, because the other drivers are so childish to continue to act this way. However, I will concede that most of the grid fails to have any sort of emotional intelligence, case and point Lewis Hamilton isolating himself from making friends with the younger drivers. (you know why).

The internet talks about how cowardly Lance is to be unable to stand up to his dad and the public and quit F1. All I can see is how fearful Lance must be. People have a hard time quitting normal jobs and announcing normal things to their parents. You want Lance Stroll to quit his highly competitive, highly lucrative job, run by this own father and fail to see how hard it is to logically call that a good decision? People across the world struggle to realize their dreams and fight against societal expectations. I don't see Stroll continuing his F1 career as cowardice, I see it as human.

So many celebrities nowadays are expected to present a caricature of themselves to social media, because they expect them to act a certain way. So maybe I like when one of the few celebrities I know brutally shows all of the down sides to fame. Despite the constant criticisms, Lance never hides his apathy for F1 or his moody childishness. Which as a moody childish person I can significantly relate to. I like Lance Stoll simply because he is an interesting complex human celebrity, something that is often washed out and fake in the modern world.

Finally, one more food for thought. People act definitely in different settings. I for one act more childish around my parents because that is the society role I play. Lance stroll is constantly around his dad in the workplace, as well as, has been around the same workplace for 9 years so maybe give him some slack for acting like the 18 year old he was when he joined F1. And to date Lance is only 26 years old, an age that I would consider 1 year into being an adult.

Lance was quite easily too young to have any solid opinion on what he wanted to do with his life when he joined the sport.

Lance is one of the most interesting drivers on the grid, but don't mistake me, I would still give up his seat for Daniel Ricciardo any day.

[touchlikethesun]

how i think different hq couples get engaged

kageyama and hinata are dating and living together for over a decade before they get engaged. there's just always something more pressing going on - usually their pro-volleyball careers - and they're both just so content with how their relationship is, marriage just seems kind of like an unnecessary hassle and a logistical nightmare that neither of them want to deal with. once they reach their 30s though, and they've both settled a bit more into their careers, i can see one of them casually proposing one day - they don't even have rings - because at this point, they both know they are going to spend the rest of their lives together, why not make mrs. hinata happy and make it official. plus, a wedding is an excuse to get together with all their friends again. when they buy their rings, they buy chains at the same time so they can still wear their rings on the court.

tsukishima and yamaguchi get engaged a lot earlier than kghn, i think they get engaged a year after they both graduate from undergrad. tsukki bought yams' engagement ring in their second year at uni after saving up basically since they got together in high school, but he waited to propose until after they lived and worked "in the real world," just in case yamaguchi found someone better or if their relationship changed when they didn't have school as an excuse to see each other all the time (kei eventually admits this to tadashi years down the line and tadashi scolds him - the efficacy being undercut by the kisses he gives kei at the same time - for ever thinking their relationship was so fragile). obviously yamaguchi was over the moon when tsukki proposed, and takes to calling him "his fiance" at every chance he gets. they wait to actually have a wedding until after tsukki has finished his masters, and they've both started working, so that they can actually enjoy the event with as little stress as possible

iwaizumi and oikawa get engaged around their mid-20s as well. i think oikawa is the kind of person that has had their whole life planned out in a scrapbook since they were 10, and he knows exactly when and how he planned to propose to iwa, so when iwaizumi beat him to the punch - an evening complete with a romantic dinner in a jazz cafe that iwa scouted for the occasion, roses, and a walk to the playground where they first met where upon iwa finally got down on one knee - tooru was so shocked and generally overcome with emotion that he burst into tears and forgot to say yes until hours later, when iwaizumi asked him again after many kisses and sweet words. ofc, after the shock has worn off, Oikawa Tooru's Dream Wedding Plans are back on, and iwa lets him take over planning the most elaborate and expensive wedding japan has ever seen

(for my bkak headcanon see this post i made a few days ago lol)

xx

[christinesficrecs]

Also, these gems are still on tumblr for your enjoyment. 🧡💙🧡 here, here, here, and especially this one. Oooh, this one too.

the lunch table configuration | 16.6K | Explicit

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between the click of the light and the start of the dream | 105.1K | Explicit

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The Hollow Moon | 180K

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Blind Date With A Book  | 30.3K

Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books.

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This Started As Only Make Believe | 44.1K | Explicit

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Past The Breakers | 40.7K

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And it all begins with two white boards.

heart as black as night | 97.7K | Explicit

It's 1924, and Derek Hale is a bootlegger and runs one of the many speakeasies in New York with the help of his Pack. They don't know, however, that he's also a hitman for his Uncle Peter, a shady Omega with mafia ties to whom Derek owes a huge debt.

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my heart’s been offline  | 58.8K

31/M/New York. Rich, lays in bed all day, likes to read (aka Derek Hale, son of an Oscar winning actress, brother of one obnoxious reality star and one rebellious fashion designer, hates the paparazzi so much he’s a recluse)

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Or, where Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek’s part of a famous family.

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Derek glances at Stiles, who is watching him with a curious expression.

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no aphrodisiac like loneliness  | 19.7K | Explicit

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[highonmarvel]

Control [prologue]

When an audition that could make your career is offered, you move back to New York and reconnect with your estranged father, and find out his old friend is the casting director, but you’ll have to do much more than wanted to get the role.

CONTENT WARNINGS! all my fics contain dark content including, but not limited to, noncon, dubcon, and explicit descriptions of violence and abuse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+, please!

Note; this is loosely based on Black Swan (2010). enjoy! hopefully. of course, love to @thehydraethereal.

You were 10 when you realised your father was selfish. No one else thought so—he was Captain America, for God’s sake! Always willing to risk his life for the nation and the world, but never for his only daughter, his only child. Maybe one could say you were the selfish one, but while you respected him as a hero, you resented him as a father. You had nightmares where he got hurt, and you pleaded with him to leave that life behind—he said he did this to protect you, but what use was your being alive if he never made time to see it? After the ordeal with the Sokovia Accords, his disappearance solidified your anger towards him. You weren’t even a teenager yet, and he did bother to even say goodbye.

Life with your mother wasn’t at all bad—she was wonderful, and supportive, and you understood why she left your father; just like you, she was always anxious about him, until she couldn’t take it anymore. You were young when your parents split, having just started grade one, but you refused to go with her, longing to look up to the superhero she left behind. You couldn’t understand why she would leave the bravest man on the planet, why she wanted him to stop saving the world, until you lived with him. There’s hardly anything worse than getting back from school to an empty house, staying up past midnight waiting for your father to come back, and then watching him limp in, battered and bruised, his suit dirty and ashen, and not being able to do anything to help him.

When you moved in with your mother, you still felt a part of you was just undiscovered. You had this nervous energy you needed to release, you felt the need to do something with your body like your father did, but running and boxing were too undisciplined for you, and made your life feel more out of control than it offered a respite, and that’s when you found dance. You could use your body to express yourself without fear of losing control: you never wanted to go back to not knowing what could happen. You were often told this was a detriment to your unmatched talent, your refusal to improvise and let go hindered your performance, but still you refused to let yourself fall victim to potential injury, you couldn’t bear to see your mother that stressed over someone’s health again.

There weren’t many ballerinas in the small town you lived in, and so your relative popularity didn’t mean too much to you, but when a New York instructor saw a small production of The Nutcracker, you, for the first time, really realised your true potential. Ballet was your life, but moving back to New York ten years after leaving made you nervous. How many times had The Avengers destroyed that city? And it wasn’t really fear of being a casualty that made you anxious, but rather the constant reminders you’d see of your father’s heroism, and that would undoubtedly bring back unpleasant memories.

You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to perform Swan Lake. Your mother said she couldn’t come with you to New York, and you understood why. Neither of you had much money—until you passed that audition and made a stable career out of it, you certainly weren’t going to make it in that big city.

Maybe this big step brought about a little recklessness, because despite your years of conditioning yourself to poise and composure, you felt compelled to try out for the Black Swan, and lose yourself this time, to a more bold and seductive style, possibly to show your father he had missed out on your transformation into a woman.

It wasn’t hard to track him down, and you were short with him on the phone.

“I’ve got an audition in NYC. I need a place to stay for a little. If it works out, I’ll be able to get a new place, if not, I move back home. It’ll be less than a month.”

“An… audition?” he started, and you could practically hear his brows furrow, but he seemed to think better than to ask too many questions, and he sounded almost desperate though he tried to keep his voice level. On the verge of begging, he continued, “That’ll be amazing— it— it’ll be alright, honeycakes.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to cringe at the nickname, instead overcome by a wave of nostalgia, somehow longing for a memory of fatherly love you never really had. You cleared your throat and gave a quick confirmation of the date you’d be arriving before hanging up, and deciding it would be best to hold your head in your hands for a little, taking deep breaths to process this.

You had packed very light—a single bag—to make sure he really got the message you didn’t plan on staying any longer than necessary. You're surprised that when get out the cab, he’s standing on the sidewalk, hesitantly waiting for you to step out. You nearly don’t recognise him: he has a full beard now, and even though it has been ten years, it seems his soul had been wearied beyond that, his demeanour close to flat until you step into view, and he stands straighter as he sucks in a deep breath and gives a tight-lipped smile.

“Hi,” he greets, slightly breathless.

“Hi, Dad.”

He sighs in relief when you say the word, and you know why: he had abandoned you, he was right to think you didn’t consider him your father anymore, but the word slipped out, and you couldn’t take it back if you wanted to.

He surprisingly pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly, but you can’t bring yourself to return his embrace. He awkwardly pulls away and takes a step back.

“You’re so grown up,” he whispers as he looks at you, something like regret in his eyes. And you want to make a snarky comment about how he missed out on it but bite your tongue and give a slight smile and a small nod, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Welcome home.”

♬

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove, @chinggay85-blog]

[yourdailykitsch]

Taylor Kitsch Was Sleeping on the Subway Before He Was Cast in 'Friday Night Lights'

Taylor Kitsch, 43, is a Canadian actor best known for his roles in "Friday Night Lights," "Savages" and "American Assassin." He stars in the Netflix Western miniseries "American Primeval," which starts Jan. 9.

Beginning in the fourth grade, I loved talking in front of my grade-school classes. We had public-speaking contests, and I'd get up and tell improvised fictional stories.

Some kids spoke about penguins or polar bears, but I made up funny stories about nightmares. Classes often voted for me as their favorite, sending me on to compete on the assembly stage. If the audience there voted for me, too, off I'd go to compete against other schools.

I was a class clown, always trying to make people laugh. While I had zero interest in drama in school, public speaking planted a seed for acting years later.

My family first lived in Kelowna, British Columbia, but I don't remember much about it. My parents divorced when I was 1. My father, Drew, had been a race-car driver and then worked in Guyana diamond mines before going into construction.

Following my parents' separation, my two older brothers - Brody and Daman - and I lived with my mother, Sue. When I was 5, we moved to Anmore, a rural area north of Vancouver. My mom held a few jobs to pay the bills.

Three years later, my mother had a serious boyfriend, Peter, who was older than her. We moved into a double-wide, ugly blue mobile home with four bedrooms in a trailer park.

The surrounding area was forested, so I often played in the woods with my best friend, Paddy. All those trees and quiet provided me with a sense of calm and wonderment. The woods were an adventure and an escape.

Peter was a gentle soul and taught me to play soccer. When I was 12, he and my mom split up. I was a mess, angry, and not totally understanding. I was emotional when Peter and I had to say goodbye.

I insisted my mom drive me a half-hour to his house so I could spend weekends there. This continued for several months until I was told he'd died.

Peter was a big guy and incredibly athletic. He never yelled, and he taught me it was acceptable for guys to express their feelings. That was a huge help. As a kid, I was so freaking insecure. I didn't know where to put my energy when I felt things.

In high school, I was good in subjects I liked - English and history. The rest was a mystery. At the University of Lethbridge in Albert, someone told me to major in finance. I took a semester of macroeconomics, which was ridiculous for me.

After a year, I left. I was lost. I'd hoped hockey would be my ticket, but an injury at age 20 ended that dream.

Then my mom tricked me into meeting a modeling agent in Vancouver. He sent my pictures to IMG Models in New York. They signed me, and I moved there in 2002. While acting wasn't part of my grand plan, it seemed like a logical offshoot.

I took classes, but I was super cocky at first, which angered my acting coach, Sheila Gray. She kicked me out of class, and said, "Come back when you're ready to listen and study." That was the nudge I needed.

I returned to Sheila a few weeks later and dug in. My passion for acting grew as I uncovered my love of a challenge, leading to self-discovery and belonging. That's when I realized acting was more than just a craft. It was a career.

Most helpful were sheila's classes on improv and scene study. Chris Forberg, my friend and modeling agent who knew I was studying, saw that I'd stuck with it and thought I would make a better actor than model. He offered to introduce me to a few acting managers, and that's how I found Stephanie Simon, who is still my manager.

Though Sheila let me take classes for free, I didn't have a visa so I couldn't work. I lived on friends' couches, slept on the subway and coached clients on nutrition for cash.

Eventually, I went to Barbados and worked construction with my dad for nearly two months before returning to Vancouver. I bought a small car and drove to Los Angeles but had to live in the car. I soon returned to Vancouver again.

In 2005 I auditioned on tape for the TV series "Friday Night Lights" and was cast. The studio got me a visa to work in Austin, Texas, where the series was shot. That was my big break.

Today, I live in a wood-and-steel contemporary house in Bozeman, Mont. I also have a 22-acre property outside of town on top of a mountain that I'm developing into a foundation and a drug-and-alcohol healing retreat for veterans and kids.

Three months ago, one of my brothers was on Facebook and came across a photo of Peter at his 93rd birthday. I was shocked. Just before Christmas, we paid him a surprise visit and stayed for two hours. He was grateful. I left him a card thanking him for his influence on me. And for teaching me about kindness.

Taylor's Hike

"American Primeval"? I play a weathered loner who helps a woman and her son fleeing their past cross the violent West in 1857.

Your dad and mom? He passed last year. My mom lives outside of Vancouver.

Fireplace? It's a long, contemporary, black steel gas model. I turn it on every morning when I have my coffee.

Home splurge? I recently bought a nice Breville Barista coffee machine.

Bozeman too chill? If you're bored up here, it's your fault. I just went on a 7-mile waterfall hike. It helped clear my head after a long stretch on set.

[schwanemannsland]

Bill Collins and Self Curruption

I've had this personal theory ever since the ninth episode of Urbanspook released that, in short, Bill Collins was willing to enter this lifestyle with Mona at the beginning. Of course, this relationship (both as killer and as lovers) was incredibly one-sided at the end with Mona taking full control of Bill's every thought and action, but I have a hard time believing Bill was forced into this at the very start.

Bill Collins is by all means an American Joe-Schmoe; he has an honorable career in his local police force, he has a wife, he has children, he has that white picket fence type dream that every man strives for. Yet, despite all that, there comes a major catch: predictability. No matter how one obtains this nuclear family life it all runs upon the same script. No matter what he has to implement himself in events like anniversaries, holidays, family, vacations, school related events, that obligatory family drama, and don't get me started about the added stress of having to focus on paying taxes, the mortgage, what will and what won't insurance will cover, what trouble his kids caused, how much a new car repair will cost, and so forth and so forth. This American dream becomes a living nightmare once you have to juggle money and family relations that, at the end of the day, will amount to nothing and will never end with your deeds being thanked.

It's a monotonous life that I can't see a person like Bill Collins enjoying. At most, he would have forced himself into a delusion of enjoyment due to societal pressures and the need to abide by normalcy. This is all something he could never control so, to go completely against such routine, is the ultimate form of freedom. To live his life vicariously through his primal id with the removal of social and familial obligations isn't that insane of a concept for a middle aged man to commit. Yet, we are swayed to believe that he could never commit such actions. We, the audience, are fed this idea of "honor" and "respect" despite the lack of evidence outside of his job title as a police officer. 

This goes into my next point: he became a police officer for purely selfish reasons that had no relation to protecting the community he works for. I know, shocker; a bad police officer. I won't baby feed anybody on how corrupt the police system in America is, so I'll just focus more on the specifics of Bill Collins' career. Despite the gritty reality, we are told this idea of the police. We are told that an officer of the law can't be just anyone, but someone dedicated to the people. Someone who will put their life on the line to bring peace and justice when the citizens couldn't. We are told that this title is something only morally correct people can obtain. Bill very much goes against this ideology. I have a hard time believing that someone that easily became a bloodthirsty hedonist was a good cop to begin with. In fact, I am inclined to believe his desires for violence poked its head while on the line. 

Maybe Bill found himself jumping to physical restraint and assaulting suspects with weapons much quicker than his colleagues. Maybe he even jumps to the most drastic measure for small incidents like speeding or running a red light. Hell, maybe he seriously injured a convict for "justifiable reasons". Whatever it may be, violent tendencies don't pop out of nowhere for a person and a man that's in an environment that not only allows physically harming suspects, but encourages it isn't too far fetched. This could even go deeper if true with his actions being easily covered up by the department due to either image, his attitude and charisma, him being able to get his job done no matter what or a mix of all three. With such a small town, it would be a disaster if one or more officers were openly tried for misconduct and assault so it would be better to look the other way. We can't have the perception of the "good, morally correct cop" being questioned. 

The final point I want to cover is how convenient everything went in his favor once he and his family got affected by Mona. Think about it: he is spared from being killed, has had major pieces of evidence that pointed towards him being involved was destroyed (his car being abandoned in the ocean) or cleaned away (there was no mention of fingerprints or further murders besides hi infant once his house was investigated), and how he of all people obtained the killer's self portrait right before his home invasion. It's hard to believe Mona spared him nor that she would easily overpower a man like him, even with a weapon on hand. I'm inclined to believe he jumped at the opportunity to execute his family with Mona perhaps due to a spur-of-the-moment decision or a premeditated one crafted beforehand. Either way, the actions following didn't seem to benefit Mona in the slightest. Why would she destroy and abandon Bill's car? She never seemed concerned about leaving her prints behind nor was it going to deter the police away from her scent due to its placement by the lighthouse. If anything, it hindered her since she had to go about abandoning a car without the plate being read nor noticed in such a small town. The only reason she would need to get rid of the vehicle is if she wanted to wash away and hide incriminating evidence against Bill. 

We can further inspect this theory by looking at Mona's first painting of Bill. The painting is incredibly interesting in how it depicts a supposed victim due it being one of the most simplistic portraits so far (even "Scream Maggy Scream" had deep violets and hints of pink) with it being only black and white with the face itself being a cartoonishly bland one with two small eyes and a tiny smile on an elongated face. It doesn't show him being tortured nor in any sort of distress. It doesn't even have a puny title alluding to his demise with it just being dubbed "Bill Collins" (of course there is no sign of her giving it an official name so even assuming its named after Bill would be a stretch). With a quick glimpse it has a lot of striking resemblance to how Mona appears: pale skin, very smooth features, sunken in eyes, and a very simple yet off putting representation of human emotions. The only major difference is that he's popularly shown smiling, before and after Mona's involvement. It's safe to assume Mona is trying to reveal how similar she sees Bill and herself, from either actions, personality, or a mix of both. 

Now, the series isn't finished so Mona's reasoning for attacking the Collins family can easily go against everything I said. Maybe it all was just a coincidence and Bill really was that sweet hearted Joe-Schmoe. Maybe the painting towards him was made just to poke fun at how he looks and nothing more. Only time will tell. But, all and all, I believe Bill had a much bigger involvement than we are led to believe and is no better than Mona when it comes to that lust for sadistic torture. 

[bullet-prooflove]

Old School: Richie Jerimovich x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lostinwonderland314 @fallout-girl219 @wabi-sabi1090 @Princesssunderworld

Companion piece to:

One Night Stand (NSFW) - It was never meant to be more than a one night stand.

Safe With You - Richie still has nightmares about how he found Michael.

Joy - The stabbing leads Richie to confront some of the doubts he has about himself.

All The Good Ones Are (NSFW) - Richie has never thought of himself as one of the good ones.

Gift (NSFW) - Richie has always thought of you as a gift.

The first time Richie finds one of your love notes in the pocket of his jacket, he feels the flush creep up his cheeks because it can’t be for him, it just can’t. A man like him doesn’t get this lucky, he doesn’t end up with a woman that commits her feelings to paper for the whole world to see. He checks the envelope again but it’s definitely his name on the front, written in your neat cursive writing.

You’re out of town for a couple of days, over in New York to hammer out a contract for one of the authors you work with. You try to play it off as nothing but Richie knows it’s a big deal. He’s fiercely proud of your accomplishments, of the career you’ve managed to carve out for yourself in the aftermath of your divorce.

He smiles as he reads the letter, it’s only a few lines but it makes him feel like he’s walking on air because you know Richie’s old school, that he comes from the era where you make mixed tapes for the girl you like.

An actual written form of communication shows care and attention, it means thought was put into those words, it creates a connection between the writer and the reader. You want him to have that whilst you’re away, you want him to know that you’ll be missing him just as much as he’ll be missing you, despite the fact it’s early days between the two of you.

It's when you get back from your trip that you find an envelope tucked inside your mail box. It’s written in Richie’s block capitals with your name and a heart drawn next to it. You start to laugh when you open it because there’s a CD residing inside with the words ‘Richie and Joy’s Mixed Tape’ written in Sharpie on the disk. You put it on the moment you step inside the house and the sounds of ‘Ain’t No Sunshine’ begin to filter through the speakers.

It moves you to hear that song, because in that moment  you know exactly how Richie’s feeling. You may express your emotions through words but Richie’s method is music and this song it tells you everything you need to know.

Richie Jerimovich is in love with you, and it just so happens you’re in love with him too.

Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Arieh Oz

Arieh Oz was a child survivor of the Holocaust who was saved by a Dutch family who hid him and his sister for three years. He later became a Lt. Col. in the Israeli Air Force who flew a rescue plane at Entebbe and piloted 1,122 Ethiopian Jews to safety in Operation Solomon.

Arieh was born Harry Klausner to a non-religious Jewish family in Wuppertal, Germany in 1936. The Klausners, like many other Jewish families, were thoroughly assimilated and proud Germans, identifying strongly with German culture and with minimal interest in Judaism. After the Kristallnacht pogrom of 1938, when Jews were murdered and synagogues destroyed throughout Germany and Austria, the Klausners realized there was no future for them in their beloved Germany, and they relocated to Holland, which seemed to be a more tolerant place, although life was far from normal. Harry and his sister Ruth were not allowed to attend school, and they had to wear the yellow star marking them as Jewish wherever they went. Still, life was bearable, until 1942, when the Nazis began arresting Jews and deporting them to concentration camps.

Harry’s parents hurriedly made plans to keep the family safe. With the help of their friend Nel van der Spek, a teacher and leader in the Dutch Resistance, they were introduced to Oepke and Jitske Haitsma, Dutch farmers with three young children, who agreed to take the two Klausner children into their home. Harry’s mother Rosa found a hiding place with another non-Jew, Petronella Ketel, and his father managed to escape Europe and flee to Palestine, then under British rule.

At only six years old, Harry and his sister Ruth, aged twelve, moved in with the Dutch farm family, who were complete strangers and didn’t even speak the same language. The Klausner children learned Dutch, did farmwork, and attended church with their hosts. The Haitsmas barely had enough money to feed their own family, but they shared what little they had with the two Jewish children, and the Hitsma kids were forbidden to have playdates with other children for fear the secret would come out. Once a year, Harry and Ruth were dressed in disguise and taken to visit their mother in her hiding place.

The Nazis were ruthless in searching out Jews, and the Klausner kids hid in a cramped attic during multiple raids by Nazi storm troopers and were never found. For three years they stayed with the heroic Haitsma family, living in constant fear of discovery. In September 1944, Allied forces began to liberate Holland. Eight-year-old Harry, hiding in the attic, heard fighter planes overhead each night, and listened so closely that he was able to distinguish which were German and which belonged to the Allies. As he lay there in the darkness, Harry decided that if he were fortunate enough to survive the war and reach adulthood, he would become a pilot.

The war ended in 1945, and the children’s nightmare came to an end when their mother, who had stayed safe and sound in her hiding place, showed up to retrieve them. In 1946 they traveled to Palestine to reunite with their father, which was nothing short of a miracle considering the fate of most German Jews. Harry later remembered how strange it was to see his father, who felt like a total stranger to him.

Anxious to leave behind all traces of the country that had so cruelly betrayed them, the Klausners changed their name to Oz, and Harry Klausner became Arieh Oz. Once again he had to learn a new language, and started school for the first time at age eleven. It was extremely difficult, but Arieh was strong and resilient, and graduated from high school the third in his class. Now it was time to fulfill his childhood dream, and he was accepted into the elite Israel Air Force Flight School. Arieh proudly earned his pilot’s wings in 1956 and excelled at his chosen career, soon becoming a flight instructor and then a young captain.

In the late 1950’s, the IDF began purchasing jumbo planes to fly long routes, carrying weapons from Europe and providing humanitarian aid to African countries facing famine. They needed someone to command this new fleet, and despite his young age, Arieh was the best man for the job. He was promoted to Lt. Col. Oz, founder of the Israeli Air Force’s International Squadron. He recruited the best pilots in Israel to join his team, and later explained, “We completed many intricate, complex and difficult missions. We had three planes operating every week, two of which flew to France to bring weapons and one of which flew to countries in Africa for aid and assistance.”

After the Six Day War in 1967, Arieh left the IDF and became a pilot for El Al, Israel’s largest airline. In 1972, thirty years after he and Ruth had moved in with the kind-hearted Haitsmas’, Arieh flew the Dutch family to Israel to celebrate his son’s bar mitzvah, and to be honored as Righteous Among the Nations by Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem.

Although not on active military duty, Arieh continued to participate in many top-secret and specialized missions. In 1976, terrorists hijacked Air France Flight 139 and forced the pilot to land in Entebbe, Uganda. The 248 passengers were held hostage for two days, after which the non-Jewish hostages were released, leaving 94 Jews stuck on board the plane, repeatedly threatened with death by the vicious terrorists.

To end the crisis, the IDF worked with Israeli intelligence agency Mossad to plan a bold rescue operation. An expert on delicate, dangerous missions, Arieh was chosen as one of four pilots to take down the terrorists and save the hostages. For seven hours, Arieh flew under radar to Entebbe, where the terrorists had cut the lights on the runway and he had to land the aircraft in the darkness. His bravery and calmness under pressure helped save 102 hostages and kill the terrorists. Sadly, three hostages lost their lives, along with an IDF commander, Lt. Col. Yoni Netanyahu, brother of the current Israeli prime minister.

In 1991, Arieh was selected to lead another, very different, mission of heroism. He was a pilot of Operation Solomon, a covert Israeli military operation to airlift thousands of Ethiopian Jews, suffering from grinding poverty and religious persecution, to the Jewish homeland. He later recalled, “I flew a Jumbo 747 aircraft – the first 747 ever to land in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. You won’t believe it but I brought, on one plane, 1,087 Ethiopian Jews to Israel.” The number was later revised to 1,122, because some of the Ethiopian mothers, still wary of the Israelis and not knowing what to expect, hid young children in their clothing and bags. The flight holds the Guinness World Record for most passengers ever carried by a commercial airline.

Arieh retired from El Al in 2001 with 28,000 flight hours, andd then served as aviation consultant and accident investigator for the Israeli Ministry of Transport. He published his autobiography, “Quest for Freedom,” in 2014. Arieh lives in Ramat Hasharon, Israel, with his wife of over sixty years, Bat-sheva. They have three children and seven grandchildren.

For their heroic actions in saving persecuted Jews, we honor Arieh Oz and Oepke & Jitske Haitsma as this week’s Thursday Heroes.