#camille; body language

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 4: YOU, ME, US*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 3 HERE | MASTERLIST | READ CH 5 HERE

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: extreme fluff, SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), language, implied anxiety genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~6.5k a/n: y/n did a number on this man, he's enamored! i wanted to evoke every emotion with this one. hopefully it worked bc i had to dig deep in my feels for this.

You were already awake when Camille barged in, coffee in hand with a grin plastered across her face. The scent of jasmine filled the room from some flowers Trent sent earlier; the jasmine flower was woven intricately into the stems of a garden rose bouquet, curling through the air like a gentle reminder of him. It made your heart race every time you caught a whiff, butterflies enveloping your body as you tried to think of anything other than match day. “Okay mystery girl,” Camille announced as she plopped onto your couch without hesitation. “How are we feeling about being in WAG territory?” You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch cushion, “Ughhh, you’re not helping Camille. I’m not a WAG!” You took a sip of coffee, biting your lip as the feeling of uncertainty twisted around in your stomach. “I don't know if I'm ready for all of this. It's a lot.” Camille stood up, giving you her full attention, “Real talk, if you can survive running a business then you can survive this. You're the most capable person I know.”

You smiled nervously, “It's just...different. Everything is so intense. It's happening so fast.” Camille raised a brow, her curiosity growing. “Okay..I gotta know. How did this even start? You didn't tell me you knew him already!” You exhaled, setting your coffee aside as you explained the story in full detail, Camille's eyes widened in disbelief. “Your meet-cute with TAA happened on a train?? Why the fuck was he on a train?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It was completely random..and then it took me so long to realize it was him. He said he just wants to be like everyone else.” Camille's jaw dropped, “So, he could have a private jet and he just... chooses to be on the train? That's kind of hot.” You rolled your eyes, but the nerves still lingered below the surface. “Yeah but..I just—I don't knowww. I feel like I'm getting swept up in it because it feels like a fairytale.”

Camille sat back down, leaning in as her expression softened with her trademark sass. “Y/N, you've bumped into this man three different times in two different countries. Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave. But…” she paused, raising a finger, “keep your head on straight, yeah? From what I know, Trent's great but he's still a baller at the end of the day.. so, no tripping head over heels immediately. Just see where it goes if that’s what you really want.” You smiled, still feeling the weight of the situation clinging to you. “Ugh, but what if it's too good to be true?” Camille shrugged, giving you a no nonsense look. “Maybe, maybe not. You can still see where it goes. Worst case scenario? You have some crazy stories you can use as inspiration for a new line. Best case? Liverpool’s most gorgeous WAG.”

The nerves in your stomach were hard to shake as you settled into your seat with Camille. The weight of Trent's name on your back felt heavier than you anticipated, it felt like there was a spotlight shining down on you. You didn't want Camille to catch on to that though.

“Okay Y/N..how are we feeling now?” Camille teased as she nudged your arm. You rolled your eyes, snorting “I'm not feeling anything right now. Just trying not to have a public meltdown.” 

She gave you a side eye as she laughed, “Stop being dramatic and just enjoy the match girl.”

Camille kept cracking jokes to try and soothe your nerves as the match started, it helped, but only for a moment. You felt a rush of excitement watching Trent on the pitch, it was like he was born to be out there. You tried so hard to focus on him and the game, but every time you caught someone glancing in your direction your nerves spiked again. You leaned toward Camille, keeping your voice low “Do you think anyone’s noticed?”

Camille scanned the crowd, looking around dramatically before turning back to you with a grin. “You're wearing his shirt..in the best section. But nah, you're blending in.” She winked, amused at your discomfort. You placed your focus back on Trent, watching him on the pitch as he sprinted across. Part of you wanted to shout and cheer him on, but the other part of you was still battling the fear of being seen, especially in his shirt. As if the universe decided to dial up the pressure, Trent glanced up into the stands, locking his eyes on yours as his familiar smile spread across his face and blew you a kiss. You tried to keep your cool, but the butterflies in your stomach were having none of it. Camille noticed immediately, nudging you excitedly. “Ooo Y/N, look at him! That's all for you!! We're getting a highlight reel moment right now.” You smiled, feeling a bit more confident as Trent's eyes caught yours before he turned back to the match.

But then the talking started. It was faint at first but grew louder as people stared between you, Camille, and the name on your back. Your heart began racing and you could feel the attention shift as if everyone was putting two and two together. Camille noticed your expression change immediately and swiftly leaned in, her voice low and firm. “Hey hey. Eyes on the pitch, not on them.” You swallowed, taking a deep breath as you tried to shift your focus back to the match, but the stares were hard to ignore. Camille nudged you again, pointing down toward the pitch. “Look at him. Don't let them get to your head. He wants you to be here. Remember that.”

You took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. She was right. You weren't here for anyone else, just Trent. You refocused on the pitch, feeling your nerves calm slightly. Camille, who was always the best at calming your anxiety leaned in and whispered “He's been looking at you so much. Just focus on that.” And with that, you found yourself slightly more relaxed as you watched Trent's presence on the field. At the end of the day, none of the cameras or whispers mattered. The only eyes you cared about were already on you.

When the whistle blew for halftime the crowd erupted into chatter and movement. You exhaled deeply, grateful for the break while Camille stretched dramatically next to you. “Okay, I'm getting a bev. Want anything?” Camille asked, already scanning around the crowd. “Just water,” you replied, glancing around nervously as fans moved about. 

“Water?? We’re at Anfield babe. You don’t want anything stronger?” Camille smirked, nudging you playfully. You laughed, shaking your head, “No thanks. I need to stay calm, not get buzzed.” Camille rolled her eyes, “Fine, water it is. Be right back.” As she disappeared into the crowd you leaned back into your seat, trying to focus on the positive energy surrounding you. The tension in your chest started to loosen but then you heard a conversation happening behind you.

“Isn’t that the girl who owns ‘Love Notes’?” a voice asked, which provoked your curiosity immediately. You froze, daring not to turn around but listening intently. “Oh my god, yeah! It is her,” a second voice chimed in. “I follow her on Insta, her brand is blowing up. Did you see the new collection she teased?” 

Your heart skipped a beat as your body stiffened, unsure of how to feel about being noticed so quickly in public.

“Yeah she's killing it. I’ve been dying to work with her” the first voice continued, “I was actually thinking about reaching out to see if she’d be down to collab for her next launch. She seems so sweet.”

A mix of pride and panic built in your chest. They didn’t seem to notice that they were talking loud enough for you to hear them. “She definitely has the ‘it’ factor, she’s gorgeous. But you know how it goes…one bad headline and it's over.” the second voice said casually, as if they were discussing the weather and not the career you worked your ass off for. Your heart sank as you took in their words.

“Especially if she’s really with Trent. That's all anyone will care about. The press is going to eat her alive, poor girl.”

Camille’s words from a couple of days before echoed in your mind. 

Don’t give them more fuel. Just be chill. But it felt like it was already too late for that. People were talking about you regardless, you were suddenly feeling overwhelmed, a spiral of panicked thoughts repeating in your mind. 

Is that really what’s going to happen? 

Camille returned, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Here’s your water, Boring.” she teased, handing you a bottle before plopping back down in her seat. “Anything exciting happen?” You forced a smile, trying to push away the sudden stab of discomfort before staring blankly down at the pitch, “Nope, just enjoying the view.” But your mind was racing. The two girls behind you had planted a seed of doubt in your mind, one you just couldn't shake. You worked too hard to build your business from the ground up and the thought of being reduced to ‘Trent’s girlfriend’— if it ever even went that far, gnawed at you. You tried to shake it off and focus on the match, but your fears lingered like a heavy rain cloud. 

What if this really does change everything? What if this overshadows everything I’ve built?

When the second half started, the cheering of the crowd faded into the background as you mulled over the weight of the strangers’ words. You hated that it was affecting you so much, but you didn’t want to be reduced to a footnote in Trent’s life. Camille noticed your silence and leaned in, “You okay?” she asked in a concerned voice. You nodded but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. Every time Trent touched the ball the crowd erupted and your heart pounded. There was no denying the connection with Trent, it was there from the very beginning, but this public life? 

It terrified you. 

Liverpool won but you barely registered it. The uncertainty that had been swirling around in your chest was a full storm, pulling you inside your head as you overanalyzed every little thing that had occurred since meeting Trent on the train. Your phone vibrated in your lap, thrusting you back into reality. 

T: Meet me by the side exit, we can head out.

You exhaled, grateful he understood how you felt about being in the spotlight. Despite having his life on display, he was growing increasingly mindful of your boundaries when it came to your personal life. 

On my way.

Camille nudged you playfully, noticing another shift in your mood when you looked at your phone. “Oop, is that your man?”

You nodded, speaking quietly, “Not my man yet..but yes. He wants to head out. I just don't want this to blow up.” Camille squeezed your arm in support, “Don't let it. Control the narrative. Go have fun, babe.” You appreciated her words but as you slipped through the crowd towards the exit, you started to wonder how long it would be before Trent's world came crashing directly into yours. You made your way through the corridor near the exit, spotting Trent leaning up against the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets. You admired how easy it was for him to look so good without trying, just being around him made you feel calm..and the view wasn’t bad either.

“You again?” he teased, looking up at you. “First it was the train, the café, Paris, now Anfield?” I'm starting to think you're stalking me.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, playfully pushing your hand against his chest. “You can’t escape me now.” Trent chuckled as he pulled you closer. “Y’know..we did everything backwards. Random meets, sex..but we haven't had a proper first date.” You raised an eyebrow, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, “And whose fault is that?” He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eye. “My fault for sure. But I'll fix that real soon.” You grinned, lightly massaging the back of his neck with your fingertips. “I'll hold you to that.” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, “Enjoy the match?” he asked, in a soft but curious voice. You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Yeah..it was fun. Parts of it anyway.” Trent pulled back slightly, his smile faltering. “Parts of it??” You sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Everything is moving so fast..people are talking. I just don’t want to lose myself in all this.” His expression softened as he gently cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him directly. “I get it Y/N. It’s a lot. But I won’t let that happen to you, you’ve worked too hard.” You smiled, leaning into his touch; his reassurance meant the world to you, but you still had some lingering doubts in the back of your mind. You took a deep breath, deciding it would probably be best to lighten the mood. 

“So…where are we going for our first date?” you teased, as you and Trent headed toward the car. He grinned, opening the car door for you, “I was thinking we could do a private cooking class. We could make something fancy..it’ll be just us and the chef. Lowkey..no pressure.” You slid into the passenger seat, raising a brow, “You? Cooking??” Trent laughed as he got into the driver's seat. “Don't doubt me! I have some skills..sorta. But that's what the chef is for. We can have fun, maybe a little competition.” You giggled, buckling your seatbelt. “Okay..but don't be mad when you lose.” He leaned over, kissing you quickly before starting the car. “Oh yeah? We'll see about that Y/N.” 

After arriving at Trent’s, he led you through his house, his hand resting on your back as you navigated the space before settling on the couch for a cuddle. The two of you had been lounging for hours, your feet resting in Trent’s lap. The TV hummed in the background with whatever show you decided to binge, but you really weren’t paying attention anymore. You stretched a bit, glancing at the time, and sighed. “I should probably go…” you said softly, trying to prepare yourself mentally but not really wanting to get up. “Gotta get back to work. I still have so much to do.”

Trent, who was absentmindedly running his fingers along your legs, smirked. “Or you could stay longer.” You laughed, but the way his hands were sliding up your leg made you feel a little dizzy. “I..I can't. I have to work.” He leaned forward, placing a kiss on your ankle “I'll go with you tomorrow. I’ll help,” he muttered. You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. “You?? What are you going to do? Stand guard all day?”

“Maybe” he said with a grin. “Just teach me. Like how you’re learning my world, I want to learn yours.” Your heart rate increased as his kisses trailed higher, reaching your knee. 

“I can't think when you're doing that” you whined, trying to keep your composure but failing miserably. He knew exactly what he was doing and it was working. “Then don't think.” he whispered in a low and husky voice, making you thrum with need. You bit your lip, trying to stay focused. 

C'mon.. be strong. Don't let him distract you Y/N, you told yourself. 

His kisses moved to your neck, your mental strength quickly slipping away. Your body was reacting faster than your brain could keep up. “I really need to get going..” you managed to say, not really sounding convincing at all.

“Stay,” he suggested as his lips moved dangerously close to your ear. “Just stay the night and I'll take you back in the morning. I’ll wake us up.” You tried to focus on the reasonable part of your brain. The part that knew you had to get up early to meet deadlines, but Trent's lips found your neck again and your brain went foggy. “Trent..” you tried, though your voice betrayed you. “I can't just—”

“Why not?” he interrupted, moving his lips to your collarbone. “I'll go with you tomorrow. It'll be fine.” Your body started reacting before you could come up with a decent argument. His kisses were soft, so slow, and perfect with each one sending waves of heat to your core. All rational thoughts dissipating. “Y/N, you know you want to,” he whispered.

Oh, he was absolutely fucking right and that was the problem. 

Your heart was racing as his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer. You were rapidly losing the battle to keep it together. "I really..should..go," you barely managed to say, it sounded weak even to your own ears. You could barely breathe let alone think straight. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, voice full of promise. “I'll make it worth your while.” You let out a soft moan, barely able to hold it back as he kissed you deeper. Your thoughts of leaving were long gone, being drowned out by the feeling of being wanted, desired and completely out of control. 

“Okay..I’ll stay,” you managed to say in a faint whisper, but he heard it. He pulled you onto his lap swiftly, your legs straddling him. “Mmm good,” he murmured, his hands roaming your body as they reached for the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “You looked so fucking good in my shirt today. But I need it off now.” He lifted the shirt over your head, immediately moving to the clasp of your bra to unhook it. You giggled, running your hands up his chest as you began to roll your hips in a teasing motion. “Ride me, baby. I wanna see you move,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, rolling your hips against his lap as you began to feel him harden between your thighs. The sensation made you gasp and Trent let out a groan as his hands squeezed your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good already.” He lifted you up off his lap, pulling your bottoms and underwear off before removing his own. You shifted your hips, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock as he filled you completely. The feeling made both of you gasp as your hands tightened on his shoulders. You started to roll your hips in a slow, but teasing rhythm. Trent groaned as his fingers dug into your waist. 

“You like it when I ride you?” you asked, your voice breathy as you moved your hips with more urgency against him. “I fucking love it,” he mumbled as his head fell back against the couch. “You look–fuck..so fucking pretty on top of me Y/N.” His praise encouraged you to move your hips faster and harder as you rode him. Every roll of your hips sent waves of pleasure through you as your moans turned into desperate gasps. “Write your name on me baby,” Trent growled, his voice now strained as his hands tightened on your waist. “I wanna see you really fuck me.”

You laughed, not fully understanding what he meant. “My name?? Like this?” You started to spell your name with your hips, continuing to grind against him. “Yeahhh. Just..like..that.” he groaned, thrusting his cock up into you in a way that made you gasp loudly. “Look at you taking me so good baby.” Your laughter quickly turned into loud moans due to the intensity of his thrusts, each one driving you closer and closer to an orgasm. The passion between you two was off the charts. Every touch and sound pushed both of you closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy. 

“Oh my goddd. Trent...I can’t–” you gasped as your body began trembling, the tension inside of you snapping as you continued to ride through your orgasm despite your thighs burning from exhaustion. Trent groaned beneath you as he watched the way your body shook with pleasure. “Gonna make me cum moaning my name like that.” he grunted, his voice rough as he thrust into one last time, his cum spilling inside of you.

For a moment, you both stayed tangled in each other, still trembling from the intensity. You were breathless and slumped against his chest as the aftermath of your orgasm washed over you. Once you caught your breath, a wicked thought crossed your mind. Before Trent could fully recover, you slipped off his lap and kneeled between his legs as you parted his thighs. “What are—”

You silenced him with a kiss to his inner thigh, “Shhh.. just relax,” you whispered in a teasing voice. Trent's breath hitched as soon as he realized what you were about to do. His fingers tangled in your hair as his body tensed with anticipation. You licked a slow, deliberate path on his shaft, pausing as you reached a small, sensitive patch of skin just below his balls. You flicked your tongue there and his reaction was instant. “Oh fuckk—” Trent gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily as a deep groan escaped him. “Holy shit.” You smiled, loving the way he reacted to you. You licked that spot again, teasing him with enough pressure to make him squirm. His hands tightened in your hair as his head fell back against the couch. His body was trembling with each flick of your tongue, his moans filling the room as he let out a string of curses. 

“You're unreal,” he moaned in a strained voice. You continued your slow assault, your tongue tracing the sensitive line along the underside of his dick before swirling around the head. You looked up at him through your lashes as your lips curled into a wicked smile. You sucked gently on the tip before moving back down in a zigzag pattern with your tongue. Trent groaned loudly, his body shaking as his hips bucked toward your mouth. 

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” he gasped, his voice filled with disbelief and pleasure. You didn't answer him. Instead, you wrapped your lips around him fully and took him deeper, your tongue working in a rhythm that had him at your mercy. “Shit..keep going..please," he moaned as his grip on your hair tightened the harder you sucked. Your movements were purposeful and teasing. “Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna cum.” Hearing him moan like that spurred you on, and you hallowed out your cheeks to take him deeper; your tongue still tracing the sensitive spot beneath the head that had him trembling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm cumming baby,” Trent gasped as his body tensed beneath you. You didn't pull away, you kept his cock in your mouth as he spilled into you, his groans loud and raw as he came hard. You swallowed every last drop, your lips still wrapped around him as you continued to suck him gently through his aftershocks to savor the taste of him. Trent's body slumped against the couch, his chest heaving as he dragged a hand over his hair lazily. “What the fuck Y/N?” he muttered in disbelief. “You're something else.”

You grinned as you wiped the corner of your mouth, climbing back up next to him to nestle into his side. “I told you to relax.” Trent laughed, pulling you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss. “You're stuck with me now. I'm never letting you go.”

“Good.” you whispered against his lips. “I have more where that came from.”

After spending some extra time on the couch enraptured in the night's events, you glanced at your phone and your eyes widened. It was already 1AM, and as much as you loved spending time with Trent, you had to wake up in a few hours. You felt Trent shift underneath you, his fingers brushing over your back. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and you knew he wasn't done just yet.

“Don't even start.” you stated, already knowing where this was headed. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you were tired after so many rounds. “What'd I do? I'm just enjoying my view.” Trent grinned as his hand traveled up your waist. You laughed as you nudged him playfully. “Well 'your view' is getting up to shower and go to bed.” He groaned, dramatically throwing his head against the couch. “You trying to run away from me now?” You rolled your eyes, standing up to make your way to the bathroom as he watched your every move. “I'm not running away. I just don't want to be all sweaty and gross.” He was already up and following you, “Damn. You're just gonna leave me out here like that..after all we've been through?” You shot an amused look at him over your shoulder, “Why are you being so dramatic?? It's just a shower.” 

Before you could say another word, he caught up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You turned to face him, your back pressed against the sink as you tried to hold back a laugh. “You're not going to let me shower in peace, huh?” Trent's hands moved to cup your chin as his lips brushed against yours in a teasing kiss. “Nah, not a chance,” he muttered before giving you proper, deep and slow kisses.

“Trent..” you murmured between kisses. “If you don't stop we're never going to get any sleep. It's really late.” He laughed, clearly not giving a fuck. “I'm not tired yet,” he teased before kissing you again, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “We can stay up..” You pulled back a little, lightly pushing against his chest. “Nooo. I'm getting in the shower. Behave! Or get out.” Trent grinned as he stepped back to turn on the shower before looking over at you. “I'm definitely staying,” he said, with cheeky confidence.

Steam filled the bathroom as the water hit the tiles, and you slipped past him to get under the water. Trent followed close behind, his hands already finding their way to your waist as he pressed his naked body against yours from behind. “You're being so clingy” you teased as he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Can you blame me after you just took my soul like that?” You turned to face him, the water streaming between your bodies. “Don't make me regret inviting you in here.” His hands slipped down to your hips as he pressed you against the cool tile before finding your lips again. “Just making the most of our night.” The kiss deepened, his hands were everywhere. On your waist, your ass, tracing the curve of your back, pulling you close until there was absolutely no space left between you. When things started heating up again you laughed, breaking the kiss and pushing gently at him. “If you don't stop we’ll be in this shower all night.”

“Ah, okay okay. I'll be good then.” he said, though his hands were still cemented on you. 

Once you were both clean, you stepped out the shower. The bathroom was warm and steamy. Trent reached for a towel and wrapped it around you. His playful banter from earlier softened and was replaced by something more tender as he dabbed at your skin with the towel. He grabbed a bottle of lotion from the counter, squeezing some onto his hands. “Can't have my girl out here dry and ashy. C’mere.” You burst out laughing at his comment, “Hmm..'your' girl?” You gave him a teasing look, trying not to smile. “I don't remember you asking.”

He grinned up at you as he kneeled down, gently smoothing the lotion over your legs. “Ah, you're right. Guess we have to talk about that, huh?” You giggled, crossing your arms as you watched him work his way up. The way he focused on you made you feel things you weren't really expecting to feel. “I guess so. I'm not yours until you ask and you haven't asked.” He stood up, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your shoulder as the fresh scent of the lotion mixed with the leftover steam from the shower. “Got it. But I'm still not letting you be ashy. My girl or not.”

You burst out laughing again, the sound filling the bathroom as Trent gave you a fake offended look, as if lotioning you up was the most important task he'd ever done in his life. His hands moved deliberately as he massaged the lotion over the rest of your body, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You're a mess but I'm kinda into it.” you said, feeling your heart melt at how sweet and tender he was being.

“Only for you Y/N.” Trent replied as he gave you a peck on the lips. He rummaged through a drawer before handing you an old, worn LFC shirt that smelled like him, and a pair of his boxers. “Put this on, you’ll sleep better.” You smiled as you slipped the oversized shirt over your head. He watched you as you pulled on his boxers, which sat low on your hip since they were too big. “Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little. But I'm sooo tired. I need sleep” you whined. He let out a dramatic sigh, pretending like he was annoyed. “All that effort and no cuddle? No reward? C'mon.” You laughed, pushing him lightly as you made your way to his bed. “You're cute, but I still have to work in the morning.” He followed you, still being needy as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, both of you settled in the bed. “Yeah, yeah. The shop,” he said in a soft murmur. He pulled the covers over you both. The way he held you close to him without making it feel like a big deal was so sweet. It felt natural and easy. “Goodnight,” you whispered as your eyes started to close.

Trent's voice was soft, “Goodnight, beautiful.”

You stirred awake the next morning as faint sunlight crept in through the blinds in Trent's room. You shifted slightly, feeling Trent's arm wrapped around your waist. It was comforting, but something felt too peaceful.

Too perfect. 

You opened your eyes, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. It was 9:37AM.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, sitting up quickly trying to wake yourself up fully. You smacked Trent on the chest. “Trent, get the fuck up! We're late!” He groaned, still partially asleep as he muttered something incoherent and tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you back down on the bed. “Gimme five minutes.”

“GET UP!” you yelled, pushing against him. “We're late, late! I have to open up and we're still at your house!” Trent slowly opened his eyes, his face scrunching in confusion before finally realizing what you said. “What time is it?”

“Past 9:30! I was supposed to be there by now, you were supposed to wake us up!” He laughed sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up and stretched his arms. “Universe had other plans for us like always.” “Oh yeah? The universe wanted me to be late because you couldn't keep your hands off me last night?”

Trent swung his legs over the side of the bed, laughing. “Maybe so.” He stood up, his toned torso catching your attention before you snapped yourself out of it. “We're awake now though. Relax, we'll make it.”

“Relax?? A business can’t run itself!” you scoffed. You got up, hurrying to the bathroom as you tried to pull yourself together. Trent followed you, moving a lot slower than what was acceptable for how late you were. He leaned against the bathroom door, watching you with amusement as you tried to tame your hair. “You look fit in my clothes y’know.” You shot him a look. “We're not doing this right now Trent. I'm gonna be late forreal and it's your fault.”

“It was worth it though.”

You were annoyed at first but as you turned to face him, the annoyance faded when you looked at his satisfied smile. “Maybe..but I still have to get to work.”

Trent smirked, stepping closer as he wrapped his hands on your hips. “I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself.” You shook your head, leaning into him for a quick kiss. “You're lucky you're cute.” He deepened the kiss for a second, knowing it would annoy you before pulling away laughing. “Stoppp! I need to get ready,” you whined, gently swatting him away. “We need to stop by my place so I don't have to wear your boxers to work.”

“Boxers and all, you're still the hottest girl out there.” You grabbed your phone, beginning to head out the door. “Shut up and lets go!” The two of you bolted out of his house, Trent still pulling on a hoodie while you jogged to the car in his oversized shirt, his boxers fluttering around you as you tried to check the emails on your phone. Trent unlocked the car, you slid into the passenger seat muttering to yourself. “Oh my god how are we this late?” 

He shrugged, “The universe wanted us to sleep in.” 

You laughed, tossing your head back, “Will you shut up and drive?”

“I'm just saying!” he exclaimed, pulling onto the road. “Fate or whatever you wanna call it..that's why we're here aren't we? Maybe the world wants you to chill.”

You shot him a glare. “I'll 'chill' after I open up the store.” Trent turned up the music to something that matched the sunny morning as you glanced at him, a loving smile creeping up on your face. You couldn't deny the connection between the two of you. The sex was amazing but it wasn't just physical stuff. The ease you felt with him despite being the most anxious person ever, the laughs you shared, the way he made you feel like time was an illusion...that was something else.

But you had absolutely no time to be thinking about that right now. 

Zero.

Once you got back in town, you quickly stopped at your apartment and sprinted inside to polish yourself into something more presentable. When you finally arrived at Les Notes d'Amour you were running around, unlocking doors, turning on lights, and trying to remember every little detail you needed to put in place. Trent followed behind you lazily with his hands in his hoodie pockets, looking entirely too relaxed. “Need any help?”

You were still frantic as you glanced over your shoulder. “I think you've caused enough chaos the past twelve hours.” He laughed as he started to wander around the shop. “Just making your day more exciting.”

“Exciting? This is stressful.” you echoed, shooting an annoyed look at him. “It's different.”

You couldn't stay mad at him though, not with that beautiful face and dazzling smile of his. He looked like he was having the time of his life watching you scramble around the shop.

After things finally settled down, you leaned against the counter. Trent wandered, scanning the shelves of the different fragrances and oils. “So what's this new collection you're working on?” Trent picked up a small bottle, giving it a curious sniff. “Tell me about it again.” You shrugged, feeling a little deflated as you leaned on your elbows. “It's supposed to be about unexpected moments in life..like chance encounters. But I haven't figured out how to tie it all together.” Trent raised his eyebrow, coming to a realization. “Kinda like us, yeah?” You shot him a look but there was something in his eyes that made your heart feel like it may burst out of your chest. “Maybeee…”

He picked up a bottle, wafting it in the air. “What's this one?”

“That's bergamot,” you said, walking over to stand next to him. “It smells fresh. I was gonna use it to represent the first time we met.” Trent looked down at you, surprised. “The train?” You nodded, “Yeah..when you had on that ridiculous outfit.”

He grinned, looking into your eyes, making you feel butterflies. “Yeah, yeah. I remember.” Trent picked up another scent. “What about this one?”

“That's cardamom. From when we saw each other at the café.” He brought his hands up to your face, faintly tracing the outline of the cupid's bow on your lip with his thumb. “and Paris?”

You picked up two bottles, one pistachio, and the other ylang-ylang. “I thought these could represent Paris.” His expression softened as he leaned in to kiss you. 

“Paris was nice.”

“Yeah..it was,” you agreed, pressing your lips to his for a kiss. At that moment, it felt like a missing piece of you had just connected back to you. Trent pulled away from you slowly, “Y’know what's missing?”

“...What?”

He leaned in, his voice low. “An aftershave. Something for me.” You burst out laughing. “Are you being serious right now?” He shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah..you said I need to step my game up. Let me be your muse or something.” You gave him a teasing look, "Oh, now you want to be helpful?”

“I'm just saying..I'll test it out. I’ll bring it to all my matches. Just for you.” You rolled your eyes, still laughing at him. “Maybe I will.”

The air between you thickened, not from the scents surrounding you, but from something far deeper. Something that was undeniably felt yet still unspoken. The quiet understanding that every moment you shared with Trent had woven itself into something you couldn't explain. You didn’t feel like you were even close to defining what the two of you were. Yet, the gravitational pull between you was so strong, so sincere. It wasn't just attraction or a coincidence, it was like the universe took these random moments and stitched them together. 

You looked at him, so calm and comfortable in your space, your world. His fingers brushed against a glass bottle with the same ease he carried with everything else. His presence wasn't loud or overwhelming. But it lingered, like the perfect note of a scent that stays with you after it fades from the air. It felt like you were both waiting for something you couldn't name. 

Love was just like that. 

Soft at first, barely noticeable. Like the first trace of a perfume in the air, you might even miss it if you weren't paying attention. But just like the notes of a carefully crafted scent...it settles into you. It deepens, wrapping itself around you until it becomes something you can't imagine being without. Love didn't need to be loud to be transformative. It didn't need grand gestures or declarations. Sometimes it simply shows up quietly, filling in spaces between words and moments. It changes you in ways you don't see coming. 

Every laugh, playful nudge, and quiet glance had woven into something deeper...even if neither of you had spoken it out loud yet. 

“I don't know how this happened,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. “It feels like—” 

He nodded, his hand brushing lightly against yours. “Like we weren't supposed to meet any other way.” It felt like fate had nudged you into each other's paths.

Every missed chance or twist of time was always meant to bring you..

Right here.

When love feels like magic, it's called destiny. When destiny has a sense of humor, it's Serendipity.

READ CH 5 HERE

i think this may have dethroned ch 3 as my fav..feeling very lovey dovey atm 🕊️ if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to share any thoughts in my inbox.

[blackwoolncrown]

Reading list for Afro-Herbalism:

A Healing Grove: African Tree Remedies and Rituals for the Body and Spirit by Stephanie Rose Bird

Affrilachia: Poems by Frank X Walker

African American Medicine in Washington, D.C.: Healing the Capital During the Civil War Era by Heather Butts

African American Midwifery in the South: Dialogues of Birth, Race, and Memory by Gertrude Jacinta Fraser

African American Slave Medicine: Herbal and Non-Herbal Treatments by Herbert Covey

African Ethnobotany in the Americas edited by Robert Voeks and John Rashford

Africanisms in the Gullah Dialect by Lorenzo Dow Turner

Africans and Native Americans: The Language of Race and the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples by Jack Forbes

African Medicine: A Complete Guide to Yoruba Healing Science and African Herbal Remedies by Dr. Tariq M. Sawandi, PhD

Afro-Vegan: Farm-Fresh, African, Caribbean, and Southern Flavors Remixed by Bryant Terry

Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” by Zora Neale Hurston

Big Mama’s Back in the Kitchen by Charlene Johnson

Big Mama’s Old Black Pot by Ethel Dixon

Black Belief: Folk Beliefs of Blacks in America and West Africa by Henry H. Mitchell

Black Diamonds, Vol. 1 No. 1 and Vol. 1 Nos. 2–3 edited by Edward J. Cabbell

Black Faces, White Spaces: Reimagining the Relationship of African Americans to the Great Outdoors by Carolyn Finney

Black Food Geographies: Race, Self-Reliance, and Food Access in Washington, D.C. by Ashanté M. Reese

Black Indian Slave Narratives edited by Patrick Minges

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau

Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry edited by Camille T. Dungy

Blacks in Appalachia edited by William Turner and Edward J. Cabbell

Caribbean Vegan: Meat-Free, Egg-Free, Dairy-Free Authentic Island Cuisine for Every Occasion by Taymer Mason

Dreams of Africa in Alabama: The Slave Ship Clotilda and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America by Sylviane Diouf

Faith, Health, and Healing in African American Life by Emilie Townes and Stephanie Y. Mitchem

Farming While Black: Soul Fire Farm’s Practical Guide to Liberation on the Land by Leah Penniman

Folk Wisdom and Mother Wit: John Lee – An African American Herbal Healer by John Lee and Arvilla Payne-Jackson

Four Seasons of Mojo: An Herbal Guide to Natural Living by Stephanie Rose Bird

Freedom Farmers: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement by Monica White

Fruits of the Harvest: Recipes to Celebrate Kwanzaa and Other Holidays by Eric Copage

George Washington Carver by Tonya Bolden

George Washington Carver: In His Own Words edited by Gary Kremer

God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito Man: A Saltwater Geechee Talks About Life on Sapelo Island, Georgia by Cornelia Bailey

Gone Home: Race and Roots through Appalachia by Karida Brown

Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans by William Ed Grime

Gullah Cuisine: By Land and by Sea by Charlotte Jenkins and William Baldwin

Gullah Culture in America by Emory Shaw Campbell and Wilbur Cross

Gullah/Geechee: Africa’s Seeds in the Winds of the Diaspora-St. Helena’s Serenity by Queen Quet Marquetta Goodwine

High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America by Jessica Harris and Maya Angelou

Homecoming: The Story of African-American Farmers by Charlene Gilbert

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman’s Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisah Teish

Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Health Care by Dayna Bowen Matthew

Leaves of Green: A Handbook of Herbal Remedies by Maude E. Scott

Like a Weaving: References and Resources on Black Appalachians by Edward J. Cabbell

Listen to Me Good: The Story of an Alabama Midwife by Margaret Charles Smith and Linda Janet Holmes

Making Gullah: A History of Sapelo Islanders, Race, and the American Imagination by Melissa Cooper

Mandy’s Favorite Louisiana Recipes by Natalie V. Scott

Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present by Harriet Washington

Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald

Motherwit: An Alabama Midwife’s Story by Onnie Lee Logan as told to Katherine Clark

My Bag Was Always Packed: The Life and Times of a Virginia Midwife by Claudine Curry Smith and Mildred Hopkins Baker Roberson

My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations by Mary Frances Berry

My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem

On Her Own Ground: The Life and Times of Madam C.J. Walker by A'Lelia Bundles

Papa Jim’s Herbal Magic Workbook by Papa Jim

Places for the Spirit: Traditional African American Gardens by Vaughn Sills (Photographer), Hilton Als (Foreword), Lowry Pei (Introduction)

Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome by Dr. Joy DeGruy

Rooted in the Earth: Reclaiming the African American Environmental Heritage by Diane Glave

Rufus Estes’ Good Things to Eat: The First Cookbook by an African-American Chef by Rufus Estes

Secret Doctors: Ethnomedicine of African Americans by Wonda Fontenot

Sex, Sickness, and Slavery: Illness in the Antebellum South by Marli Weiner with Mayzie Hough

Slavery’s Exiles: The Story of the American Maroons by Sylviane Diouf

Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a Time by Adrian Miller

Spirituality and the Black Helping Tradition in Social Work by Elmer P. Martin Jr. and Joanne Mitchell Martin

Sticks, Stones, Roots & Bones: Hoodoo, Mojo & Conjuring with Herbs by Stephanie Rose Bird

The African-American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Fond Remembrances from Alabama’s Renowned Tuskegee Institute by Carolyn Quick Tillery

The Black Family Reunion Cookbook (Recipes and Food Memories from the National Council of Negro Women) edited by Libby Clark

The Conjure Woman and Other Conjure Tales by Charles Chesnutt

The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature by J. Drew Lanham

The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks by Toni Tipton-Martin

The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have Fed Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas by Adrian Miller

The Taste of Country Cooking: The 30th Anniversary Edition of a Great Classic Southern Cookbook by Edna Lewis

The Tuskegee Syphilis Study: An Insiders’ Account of the Shocking Medical Experiment Conducted by Government Doctors Against African American Men by Fred D. Gray

Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape by Lauret E. Savoy

Vegan Soul Kitchen: Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine by Bryant Terry

Vibration Cooking: Or, The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl by Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor

Voodoo and Hoodoo: The Craft as Revealed by Traditional Practitioners by Jim Haskins

When Roots Die: Endangered Traditions on the Sea Islands by Patricia Jones-Jackson

Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic by Hoodoo Sen Moise

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing by Michelle Lee

Wurkn Dem Rootz: Ancestral Hoodoo by Medicine Man

Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, and Other Writings: Mules and Men, Tell My Horse, Dust Tracks on a Road, Selected Articles by Zora Neale Hurston

The Ways of Herbalism in the African World with Olatokunboh Obasi MSc, RH (webinar via The American Herbalists Guild)

[equallyshaw]

a night in paris | john marino

౨ৎ masterlist. ౨ৎ word count: 3.1k ౨ৎ warnings: none ? just some cigarette use. ౨ৎ this was started weeks ago in honor of his birthday and now...its a little gift after the news ౨ৎ started strong...then fizzled out lol ౨ৎ also, french is in italics

john had just arrived in the city of love, meeting up with nico, dawson, jack and alex for a little european excursion. the five of them all met up in the historic hotel's lobby before heading down to avenue de cameons for some croissants and expresso, before heading towards the eiffel tower. his jet lag began to set in as soon as they stepped foot down the street and towards carette which was about a 10 minute walk. nico was busy talking about the city of love and some places he thought they should visit since he'd been coming here since he was a child. john took in the sights and sounds, the expanse of the block, and the sheer chaos that ensued around the hockey players. after a quick stroll, the group quickly took the two open tables next to each other in front of the cafe. nico had explained that since it was only 7 in the morning, it was free for fall.

nicolette was not enjoying the city of love at this current moment. she had just gotten off from her shift at a 24 hour cafe and was in line for a croissant at carette, and thought she was going to lose her mind as somebody dumped their expresso on her. her and the perpetrators eyes went towards her white button up shirt and then met eachothers gaze.

"im so sorry madam!" they apologize quickly and she put her hand up, "maybe you should be paying attention to your surroundings you fucking phony!" she screamed, as a cafe worker handed her napkins. which were no use at all.

the cafe went silent as they all looked towards the young woman who had insulted the middle-aged man, and quietly snickered. nico looked back as soon as he heard the french insult and made a shocked face before laughing. "whats so funny?" jack questioned as he looked between the young woman and nico. "she just insulted the man." nico smirked before sipping on some of his drink, "it doesn't really translate well. it just means 'phony' which in the french language, is just an insult." he explained and the guys nodded. the woman was still rambling in french before she handed the napkin back to the worker, and turned on her heel. her brown locks swaying as she walked out of the cafe with the middle aged man still apologizing. she rolled her eyes as she ignored him and hoped he would catch her drift. she pulled her vintage black sunglasses down from her head and looked both ways before crossing the street. before she was out of their view, she flipped off the man. jack being the little kid that he is, immediately giggled which in turn made the group laugh.

nicolette scurried back to her apartment two blocks over, as quickly as her ballet flats could take her. she was still quite upset that her white shirt was ruined, one she'd recently gotten in milan for a quick holiday. a deep sigh of relief came from the petite brunette as she spotted the familiar red doors of her apartment building, and picked up her speed. she wanted to get out of these clothes and into some pajamas. her roommate and best friend camille was up on the couch with a cigarette freshly lit, who smiled widely once nicolette stepped inside. her smile faded once she saw the state of her shirt and frowned, "don't tell me that's -" and nicolette cut her off, "yes yes." she snipped pulling it off to reveal a bralette underneath and threw it in the garbage. nicolette held out her hand for the cigarette for the brunette to take, and camille quickly gave her it, "i thought you gave it up," she paused, "6 months ago?" camille teased as she watched her friend's eyes close and a sigh of relief pool from her body.

"to hell with resolutions." she shrugged and handed the cigarette back.

nicolette plopped herself down on the green velvet couch, looking at the current state of the apartment. her anxiety rose with how cluttered it was and groaned loudly as she heard the tea kettle scream. camille rushed over to pour it in the french press, for their morning coffee. "how about we go out tonight?" camille asked from the kitchen and to which, nicolette rubbed her hands down her face. "it'll be funnnn!" camille said angelically from the kitchen before leaning on the missing door - frame, taking in her friends distressed state. "how about no?" nicolette snipped turning on her side.

"tony invited us out... yknow how big of a crush he has on you!" camille teased walking back to the french press. nicolette rolled her eyes, if she never had to see him again - her world would be alright. but no, he found her everytime they went out and she was honestly quite sick and tired of it. "i'd call it stalking." nicolette murmured as she stood, and headed into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

_

john and the rest of the group went to the eiffel tower after croissants and coffee and then headed towards a market that held produce, small gifts, and many, many delicacies for them to try. nico being quite the man, translated and spoke for the group in french. the boys gave him the most teasing as they strolled down the market street, before feeling the real effects of jet lag. "how about we go back to the hotel, nap, food, nap, dinner then drinks?" alex offered and the group all agreed.

━━

nicolette and camille stood outside the club around 12, smoking a cigarette as they tried to catch their breaths. that evening in the club was hot and claustrophobic nicolette thought. "oh oh oh." camille said hitting her friend in the chest and her hand quickly went to go soothe the sting, "christ cami." she murmured as she followed camille's eyesight. "americans." camille grinned with delight in her eyes and that made her friend giggle. "i don't think they're all american." nicolette said pointing out the fluent french also being spoken and she thought her friend just about fell in love right there. the group of 5 men were currently trying to get into the club and was having little success, and now one of them was trying to tell them they should try another place.

"how about we pull them in, and say their our friends?" camille questioned turning back to her friend with puppy eyes. nicolette shook her head with a small giggle. "nicole! come on!" camielle begged and nicolette rolled her eyes at the nickname she didn't care for. camille did not wait for answer before stalking over there and began to speak to the bouncer. her expressions and hand movements were theatrical and nicolette gave her friend a pointed look, when camille pointed back toward her. nicolette felt many pairs of eyes on her, as she still leaned against the wall. she dropped the last bit of cigarette before stepping on it and crossing her arms. camille smiled and kissed the bouncer's cheek before telling the group to follow her. "do i even want to know?" nicolette murmured to the girl and camille could only respond with a giggle.

the guys all followed camille, and eyed the two as they spoke in hushed french. "im camille!" camille beamed, eyeing each of them and they all nodded. "nicolette." the other girl hummed more softly, and the guys nodded as well. the guys all introduced themselves and then nicolettes eyes landed on the very friend that just a few minutes ago was trying to get them to go someplace else before camille swooped in. she took in his curly hair that was just about to cover his eyebrows. then she moved on to the tall, strong build of the mysterious person. before landing on the two dark, shimmering orbs, like melted caramel - that were his eyes.

"john."

his voice matched his eyes, warm, inviting, and smooth.

"well boys, come follow us!" camille announced confidently as four of them followed her back through the club doors. while leaving john and nicolette behind, briefly. she smiled softly before taking the door from the one named 'jack', and held it for john who slipped in behind.

the club was hot, steamy and had a rhythmic pulse to it. french club music was playing out from every corner as they all made their way back to the table they had been at before. as soon as her and john made it to the table, all the guys began scoping out the place as a waiter came to take their order. "chartreuse, please." nicolette ordered and then he was off.

"so where are you all from? i hear different accents." camille questioned loudly over the music. one was from switzerland - who was currently ogling camille, who lets be real; was ogling him right back. three were from the states, including the one with chocolate eyes. and another was from canada. "ah! i have family who live there , i think-think, newfoundland area?" nicolette said with a slight glint of curiousty. dawson's eyes skyrocketed and the two quickly began a conversation. they had realized their families had a mutual friend in common and laughed over it being a small world.

"i haven't been since i was a young girl, about 5. but i do remember -oh whats it called- a beavers tail?" she questioned unsurely, and dawson laughed. "yes! beaver tails are so good! do you remember the poutine?" he questioned and she shook her head for a brief second before nodding, "oh ofcourse! gravy and cheese- so good!" she smiled widely before turning towards the waiter who was setting down the drinks. dawson entered the conversation with the other guys while john looked around and simply, people watched.

"so." nicolette said leaning in towards the boy, and he quickly looked towards her. "when did you all get in?" she questioned, sipping her drink that was sweet, tangy, and a bit spicy. "this morning actually." he said sipping his. "who got you guys to go out with jet lag?" she teased and john pointed towards the swiss who was currently talking with camille. "cheeky man he is." she grinned bringing the quartz glass to her rosy lips. nicolette looked around briefly before making eye contact with the one person, she did not want to see. tony.

she felt her blood run dry as he made his way over towards the group, with nicolette looking back at camille in a panic - who didn't notice because she was currently locking lips with the swiss man.

"fuck." nicolette mumbled before setting down her drink and dragging the closest one to her - onto the dance floor.

nicolette pulled him into the middle and rather closely, beginning to sway to the beat; while nonchalantly checking for tony. nicolettes heartbeat felt like it was going to beat out of her chest, as they danced. john's hands fell to her upper hips, trying to keep them at a respectful spot. the two danced for what felt like an eternity, finding each other's eyes in the middle half.

the smell of sweat and peony filled johns nose, as she pressed herself into him as the two continued to dance. butterflies ever-present, as the two continued to dance. nicolette found herself softly smiling as her back was facing him. she turned towards him now while her hands found his neck, and again made eye contact. "do you wanna take a breather?" she questioned loudly, and he nodded quickly. she took ahold of his hand and pulled him through the crowd to the back door where she had been previously with camille.

cool air hit the two as they stepped outside, now finally able to catch their breaths. nicolette wiped some sweat off of her forehead with her shirt, as she leaned against the wall. she felt herself itching to have a cigarette but decided against it. john let out a sigh of breath, before turning to look at the girl. her soft blue eyes were shut as her head tilted up towards the night sky. her leg tapped as her thoughts swirled, trying to calm them. "you good?" he questioned softly, knowing something was eating at her.

her eyes opened in a flash, before looking away. she swallowed harshly, hating how her skin still burned.

"i take it there was somebody walking up that you didn't want to talk to?" he said with slight hesitation and she nodded. "yeah and won't take the hint i don't like him like that nor really as a person." she giggled nervously. john understood and nodded, before looking out towards the busy streets. "wanna get out of here?" he questioned and her eye met his before she nodded.

the two headed out towards the small square while making small talk.

her eyes found the custard cart, le maison glacee.

"ice cream?" she questioned with a twinge of giddiness and john nodded, allowing her to take the lead. the two walked in silence before nicolette took over and ordered vanilla for her, and then turned towards john who answered with chocolate. the way the words effortlessly rolled off her tongue, created even more butterflies for john. she thanked the cartman as the two grabbed their bowls of french custard, and headed towards a small table nearby. "do you guys even sleep?" he teased as the two sat down and she shrugged with a slight grin. without a second to pass, their heads whipped towards a loud noise - a box falling - and then two voices began to scream. nicolette giggled mischievously as the two screamed at each other.

and then john realized.

"it was you!" he said with realization and nicolette gave him a slight head tilt of confusion as he chuckled. "you were the one who screamed at that man this morning." and nicolette felt her cheeks turn rose before giving him a cheeky grin. "it was me unfortunately." she hummed, taking a big spoon of icecream. johns eyebrows furrowed before she began to speak again, "that shirt was from milan recently, thrifted it from a boutique there and on top of that, my shift was shit and that was the last thing i needed." she groaned throwing one leg over the other as she leaned back.

"how come?" he questioned softly, eating a bit more. she sighed, "shitty boss and shitty customers." she shrugged looking off towards the distance. john watched as her eyes moved with the movement, as couples danced to the street singer who was serenading the square before they found his. "i work at a cafe not far from here and it wasn't a good night shift that's all. but it'll due for now." she shrugged as she looked back towards the dancers.

she absolutely adored dancing, whichever the kind, and found herself now swaying to the song.

"what do you want to do?" he questioned as she smiled softly, "i'd love to be a journalist. not much pay or glitz and glamour but i love writing, and id love for it to be my career." she said finishing up the bowl. john looked down at his, before looking back up. "have you gone to school for it? or do you not need it over here?" he asked and she nodded. "yeah, i finished a year ago at de paris with honors, but haven't found anything that would be good." she explained wiping her lips with her napkin. "have you always wanted to be a journalist?" he questioned. "since i was a little girl i loved to write, when i received my first journal when i was about 6, it was technically a drawing book but i just began to write. mostly nonsense but as i got older, it continued. once i got to highschool, it really took off. i joined the school newspaper and started writing once a week for the local newspaper back home before transitioning to the paper at universite." she explained with a wide smile, "being able to bring important heartfelt, and deep stories to light is my passion." nicolette finished. "what do you do?" she questioned giving him her full attention.

"im a professional hockey player, all of us are." he explained, " but i just got traded to a different team though. i played with them the past few years. besides lukey, who's only been here a year." he added. nicolette nodded softly, and then the two began to talk about anything and everything for the next hour, when john interrupted the conversation, "let's go dance." john said abruptly before standing up. he took the empty bowls of icecream and then her hand, before pulling her towards the singer. the singer was performing a slow french jazz, and john instantly pulled her in closer to his chest.

her heartbeat could be heard in her ears, as it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. her body became warm and filled with butterflies. his chocolate eyes had pulled her in, and swooned her. yet, they were soft and inviting and safe.

his mouth opened softly, as if he was going to speak; with her butterflies swarming at the thought of hearing his voice. his eyes searched hers as the world and the music slowed around them. a soft hand came up to cup her cheek, ever so delicately. his thumb softly tracing her cheekbone before pulling her in for a deep kiss. her lips immediately returned the favor, before they pulled apart after a few seconds. her ever-pale cheeks turned rosy as the two foreheads rested against one another. a small smile formed on her lips, while a toothy smile appeared on his; the same feeling running through both of their bodies.

she was quite the enigma, john knew almost immediately after speaking to her. so down to earth, quiet, gentle, and inviting. she made you want to open up about everything and share the most wildest dreams and goals. he could see why she and camille had been thick as thieves since they were 6 years old, after meeting in ballet class. she was quite rare in a fast-paced world, and he adored that about her. it made him want to keep her in his life, somehow some way. even as friends.

her head found his chest, as the two continued to sway to the music. smiles covering their faces as the night went on. the city of love pulling them towards one another, giving the two a beautiful night to remember. and possibly, many more.

SO not the greatest, but am very rusty and really wanted to get something up! hope you enjoyed (:

if you did, please like and repost!

xx Anna

[skyler10fic]

In the Tyler Family panel, Billie recalls the 2000s fashion as a strange time in fashion history but loved Idiot's Lantern, and they agree Jackie would have shared Rose's clothes to be the Cool Mom. 🤣

Shawn says he was surprised to be asked back at first since his character died, but it made sense for him to come back in a multiverse story.

He says it was easy to come back and Camille adds it's the quality of writing makes it easy because you know who you (the character) are at that point because you can trust the writers are guiding it.

Billie says she struggles with how much she didn't understand how it was going to take over her life before s1 airs. Before social media, even though everyone hated it and the idea of her doing it, but it wasn't the constant stream of trolls the new actors have to hear about now with social media. She says with RTD, Julie, and Phil, there was so much confidence and joy, it was easy to believe it would be good.

Camille says her neighbors and friends were surprisingly fans. She didn't realize how many people she knew who loved it and knew about it.

They talk about how cold it was filming the Cybermen. Billie says her jaw locked because it was so cold!! The trick to getting through them was "youth" and she doesn't do night shoots anymore if possible because of that experience.

Camille talks about how Jackie "grew a pair" lol

Billie: "She's a boss!

Camille: "It's Russell, really."

Billie: "No, it's you!"

Love that Jackie's speech and situation in Love and Monsters got a shout-out. Especially going off on Elton for taking advantage of her: "Many people can relate to that moment, I think."

Talking about Pete not being the perfect husband:

Billie: "Why did they break up again?"

Shawn: "Because I died!"

Billie: "I forgot!!!" 🤣

They banter so well! Total family vibes between them all.

Fun moment where Shawn thought Billie was saying "old Pete" when she was saying "alt Pete!" Lol

Rose having the "rose-colored glasses" taken off: Billie says many can relate to realizing their parents are flawed people, and things are more complicated than you thought.

Camille says the Tylers spoke a language people understood, making something fantasy into a relatable story that was relevant to the audience.

Mod jokes that Rose "parent trapped them" across multiple universes!

Billie talks about how she enjoyed the overall romance and human element of their series, as opposed to the more sci fi feel in other later seasons.

Camille says Chris's intensity helped launch the reboot, but David's "Labrador" energy was different and special too to keep it going.

Billie says there was a totally different energy after they knew it was a success, allowing for more playfulness with David's Doctor and in general on set.

Billie says she always thought there was something complex about the romance with the Doctor, it's weird for a 19 year old to just take off in a box, and maybe wasn't written with Chris but it was there in spirit, and then was written in more explicitly in their relationship with David. Hard to keep that intensity of awe and adoration platonic! Camille adds the chemistry between them was a big element as well.

Billie says it was always a thrill to get the script, eager to read the script as soon as she got it to see what new world they were building with each episode. She says she didn't want to go to set when shooting Tooth and Claw because she was riveted reading the Doomsday script! Haha

Billie says the costume tricks can help body language shifts when changing character, like with Rose possessed by Cassandra, the push-up bra helped develop a unique physicality for the previously (literally) flat character!

Camille says they got in trouble for talking a lot because they got on so well!

Billie says she loves the new episodes, especially the dance numbers and theatrics now, and that's exactly where the show should go. "It's super fun again." Sitting down and watching a family show with the kids, an event for everyone to watch together.

Camille said it was good but it would be better if the Tylers were there! 😁

They love Ncuti as well. Excellent casting.

Billie praises RTD's heart and rooting for all walks of life. Everyone can feel represented. Camille says he is so good at pulling heartstrings and "that's what we want as Doctor Who fans." They also love his joy but also his power if they are being unkind. He defended the actors from stupid questions from the press and "told it like it was" when he needed to be the man in charge.

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Thirteen

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: strong language

wc: 3323

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! if your name is bold, i couldn't tag your blog :( tags below:

@slyth3rin-princess @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019 @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @hnyusui @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans

Chapter Thirteen: Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff

That Saturday was Draco's first Quidditch game since his fifth year. Somehow you had convinced Hermione to go with you, but she only agreed because of how upset you had been. She didn't want to cause you anymore heartache, so there she was, on her way to a Slytherin Quidditch game.

"Thanks for coming along, 'Mione," you tell her, crowds of chanting, cheering students surrounding you on the walk there, "I really appreciate the company."

"It's my pleasure," she smiles across at you, "I wouldn't want you sitting alone."

"Well, I'm thankful anyway. I can't imagine it was an easy yes."

Hermione laughs.

"It means something to you," she says, "and if it's important to you, then it's important to me. That's just how friendship works."

Hermione asked if you were sure about going today. She advised you to have some time away from Draco, considering things are still fresh, and it wasn't that you didn't agree with her. You couldn't not show up to his first match, especially since it was you who suggested he go for it. The stands were almost full when you arrived, students sitting on the stairs due to the lack of seats. Luckily, Hermione had little patience for people that take up seats with their belongings, so you bagged two spots in no time. A student passed by selling popcorn, and you dug into your pocket to fetch out some change.

"Two please," you smile, and the boy takes your money. Hermione argues that you didn't need to pay for her, but soon shuts up when the sweet treat touches her tongue.

Inside the players tent sat Draco, a bag of nerves. He was sitting in his dressing area, bouncing his leg furiously. Right now he could really use seeing you, just to calm him down a little. He'd been practicing on the nights he didn't see you, whizzing around the empty pitch in the dark, just to get some extra hours in before today. It also doubled as a release, since your relationship had taken a blow due to Monday's events. The air whipping past his ears and the adrenaline from flying as fast as he wanted helped to ease the anger from his body. From the tent he could hear the roar of the crowd as Madam Hooch's voice echoes throughout the arena.

"Malfoy," a voice says from behind the curtain, "it's time to line up."

Marcel. He'd been so supportive of Draco rejoining the team, and so had the other members. Not one of them rejected him being there, in fact, they couldn't ask him enough questions. They wanted to know how he got so good, why he quit, what made him come back. He felt like a celebrity amongst them, and not in a bad way this time. Draco stands and takes his broom thats perched against the side of the tent. With two deep breaths, he exits, to see the rest of the team dressed and ready.

"Hufflepuff have just lined up at their entrance," Marcel briefs everyone, "just remember what we practiced, and we should have this in the bag. Plus, we have our secret weapon, Malfoy."

The team turn to smile at him, Marcel absolutely beaming. It was nice to feel genuinely wanted by other people. People who meant what they said. They line up, and the captain leads them to the entrance. Across the pitch stood Hufflepuff, ready to enter on the opposite side. Hooch's speech ends, and her voice is replaced by the commentator. That's their cue.

"Our teams are entering the pitch," the voice echos, "on the right we have Hufflepuff," a mighty cheer for Hufflepuff fills the air, "and from the left, their competition, Slytherin."

A huge roar erupts for the Slytherin team. Draco forgot what it felt like to walk out onto this pitch, to see the crowds almost bursting out of the stands, flags and banners waving. Specks of green littered the audience, overshadowing the yellow. Nothing's changed there, Draco thinks. They get into formation, facing the Hufflepuff team, and Madam Hooch comes to stand in the centre.

"I want a nice, fair game," she yells to the players, and when she spots Draco, she looks pleased to see him there, "on the whistle, one, two, three."

The whistle bellows, and the Quaffle flies into the air. It's messy, blurred images of players zooming around the open space and Draco feels a little sick. He doesn't dare check if you're in the stands, because if you weren't, he'd feel ten times worse. His eyes frantically scan the pitch for any sight of a gold flicker, the Hufflepuff Seeker never taking their eyes off of him. Not that Draco knew, but his return had been feared by the other teams. With Draco as Seeker, the only team that bested Slytherin was Gryffindor, but now Potter wasn't around to distract him. Draco had the potential to out do all the other houses and take the cup for Slytherin. In the stands you shovel popcorn into your mouth absentmindedly, Hermione taking the bag from you before you vomit. You couldn't help it, you felt so nervous you could have eaten the paper bag without realising.

"Slow down," Hermione tells you seriously, "you'll be sick."

"I feel sick anyway," you tell her, "I just want him to do well."

"Y/N," Hermione mumbles through a mouthful of your popcorn, "you do realise that Malfoy is one of the best Seekers to ever attend Hogwarts? He's going to be fine."

"Did you just compliment him?" you grin, and she rolls her eyes.

"No, it's a fact," she protests lightly, "I was simply stating the truth."

"Malfoy spots the snitch," the commentator blares, and both of you turn your attention to the game, and you take the popcorn back off Hermione, "and he's on its tail, Hufflepuff right behind. It's a close call, and, oh- Hufflepuff almost take over but Slytherin blocks."

Draco could feel the Hufflepuff seeker on his trail, so close behind they could take over at any moment. Not that he would let them. He remembers how to play just dirty enough that it wasn't seen by spectators, falling back slightly to use his foot to unhook his opponents from it's holster. The crowd gasp as the Hufflepuff seeker momentarily loses their balance, swinging around to the side of their broomstick. Draco chuckles to himself. On oldie but a goldie. The snitch is right up ahead, he can almost see it through the blur of its wings. Slytherin are toe to toe with Hufflepuff on the leaderboard, so it's up to Draco to bring the victory. The opposing Seeker recovers and is soon racing towards Draco, but he speeds up to come face to face with the golden ball. He reaches out, fingers almost grazing it.

Both Hermione and you stand up, popcorn bag now empty. You grip her forearm. She places her hand on yours for support. The entire arena are up on their feet, shouts and cheers from the stands ripping through the air as the Hufflepuff Seeker catches up to Draco. He spots them in his vision, and soon enough their body and broom collides with his, throwing him off course. The Snitch darts across the pitch, and the opposing Seeker races off after it, Draco hot on their tail. He narrowly misses a Bludger, an attempt to get him off his broom, but he soldiers on.

"Another ten points to Hufflepuff," the commentator shouts, "now ahead by twenty points."

Shit, Draco thinks. He has to get a hold of that Snitch. He has to prove himself to his team and the rest of the school. Just as he passes your stand, he spots you, coming to a complete holt. Granger is beside you, and now you're waving at him. You're here. That's really you. You start pointing behind him, shouting, and Granger begins to do the same. He spins around to see the Hufflepuff Seeker an inch from the Snitch. He bolts forwards, barely dodging the other players, and at full force grabs the end of the Hufflepuff's broom and spins them in the opposite direction. It's not a foul, because the player is still on their broom and alive, so the game continues, and the Snitch is closer than before.

"Malfoy is closing in on the Snitch," the crowd gets louder, and louder, and you're screaming, Hermione is screaming, and then Draco closes his hand around the fluttering, golden ball.

"AND SLYTHERIN HAVE THE GOLDEN SNITCH!"

The next few moments don't feel real. The team are bombarding him once he's on the ground, hugging him, thanking him. He's in a daze, the Snitch still in his grip when Madam Hooch comes to congratulate him. She tells him it's nice to have him back, to see him up there again, and all he can seem to do is smile. Now he just needs to see you, and everything will be perfect. He looks for you amongst the faces, pushes through the students and scans the remaining few in the stands. You're not there, and neither is Granger, and his heart begins to sink. His first victory in a long time and the only person he wants to see has gone. He stands alone at the side of the pitch, wondering if he imagined you in the stand back there, when he hears your voice calling.

"Draco!" you shout, running up behind him, "that was freaking amazing!"

When his eyes land on you his mouth curls into a cheek aching grin. You're beaming, eyes sparkling and smiling so much that you're showing teeth.

"I didn't think you would come," he says, a little breathless.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask him, "I'm here to support you, remember?"

He can't help himself. He needs to feel you, so engulfs your body in a tight embrace. Draco had been trying to not have as much physical contact with you as it makes things harder, but right now all he wanted was to have you against to him. You freeze for a moment, thinking the same, but wrap your arms around him anyway.

"Thank you," he mutters into your ear, "for making me do this."

"No need for that," you say quietly, "I was only doing what any other friend would."

You're wrong. No one else would have supported him the way you do. He cuddles you tighter before pulling back, smiling down at you with windswept hair. He looked a little too good in that uniform, especially a bit roughed up, and the urge to kiss him becomes unbearable again. You can tell from the way his eyes are flicking down to your lips that he's thinking the same, so you back away slightly for some room.

"I'm really proud of you," you then tell him, and it makes him feel better than any win ever could, "you've come a long way, Draco."

"Only because of you," he says, giving your hand one quick squeeze, "I couldn't do any of this without you."

He looks into your eyes with such adoration. He looks at you like nothing else is worth looking at, and to him, it's not. In a pitch filled with hundreds of people, you're the only one he wants to look at. Once again the cruel reality of your future together starts to sting. He opens his mouth to ask you something, but gets interrupted by the presence of someone else.

"You were really amazing out there, Draco," you turn your head to see Astoria standing there, beautiful brown hair cascading over her shoulders, scarf neatly wrapped around her neck and glossed lips smiling, "we've missed you on the team."

"Thanks, 'Storia," he smiles thinly back at her, but she doesn't read the room at all.

"A few of us were thinking about going for a drink," she then says, still not noticing you were stood there, "wanna tag along?"

He looks to you for help, Astoria finally noticing your presence. She offers you a warm smile, which you return reluctantly. She's utterly perfect. Beautiful, pure blooded and a Slytherin, and yet Draco says he doesn't want her. He wants you, but right now as she's standing there in all her glory, you feel like a battered Bludger compared to her. Then you remember what Hermione said, about creating some distance to give yourself time to come to terms with everything.

"You go," you quickly say, feeling a lump in your throat as your thoughts wander into a dark corner, "it'll be good for you."

"Are you sure?" Draco said, leaning in to whisper, "I was going to ask if you wanted to do something together."

You shake your head, and put on the best smile you could muster. Draco seems concerned. He understands your time together has been a little awkward lately, but he'd much rather celebrate this day with you, not Astoria and her friends. He almost reaches out when you begin to take your leave.

"No, honestly, go," you tell him, walking backwards, a disappointed and confused look on his face as you do so, "have fun. Nice to see you, Astoria."

And then you were gone, walking away as quickly as possible, leaving him there with his mother's favourite example. He watches you leave the pitch, and Astoria can see the longing in his eyes as she begins to head towards her waiting friends.

"So, are you coming or not?"

Hermione was waiting for you at the front entrance. Once she saw the expression on your face she knew your chat didn't go too well. "I told him to go," you filled her in, "I think it may do him good to be around other people."

She could tell that you didn't truly believe that, even though you were putting on the most convincing voice. From the pitch to the castle, you justified, more to yourself than Hermione, that what you did back there was for the best. Hermione knew better than to interject at this time. She had made her opinion clear, and you sure didn't need to hear it again, so for the entire walk she just let you talk at her, hoping your rambling was helping in some way.

Draco cleaned himself up and followed Astoria and her friends absentmindedly to the pub, all the while thinking that your friendship was over. Sure, things hadn't been so smooth as of late, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to work itself out, right? You would be back on track in no time. Just a little bump in the road. A rather large little bump, a right in your face kind of bump, a bump that created tension and unwanted awkwardness between the two of you… but it was going to work out, right?

Draco was completely aware that he was lying to himself, of course, but he wasn't sure how else to deal with it. He didn't want to lose you, but didn't want you to remain a friend or enrage his parents. It was like he was stuck at a crossroads, a sign pointing down each route he could take, but at the end of each road was a painful and unpleasant solution. So, he thought beer might help, at least take his mind off your retreating figure. Astoria linked her arm with his, although he was rather numb to the feeling. He could shake her off, but he didn't. He let her linger there, even though he paid no mind to her for the duration of the journey.

Her friends bought him drinks. Draco barely touched his wallet. He didn't talk, unless he was spoken to, managing a thin smile every time Astoria boasted about his game that day. If she was hiding her feelings for him before, she certainly wasn’t with a few drinks in her. Wandering a little further behind the others, he watches as they drunkenly cling to one another, giggling and stumbling all over the pathway. His intoxicated mind drifts to you, and the way you left him standing there. Draco didn't want to be by himself. He wanted to be with you. In so many ways, did he want to be with you. Harshly, he rubs his eyes, hoping the image of you disappears from his memory. It doesn't. If anything, it just makes you appear clearer, and once he falls into the softness of his bed, he feels wide awake with the thought of you. 

On Monday morning, professor McGonagall made it clear not to be late for dinner that evening as a special announcement was to be made. Whispers of excitement soon filled the corridors and classrooms, but with how your weekend went nothing felt very exciting at all. All day long you had been hearing people speculating, and had even heard a Ravenclaw boy say to a Hufflepuff girl that first years were being fed to the centaurs. An incredibly unlikely event, but she gasped nonetheless. That evening students piled into the Great Hall with great anticipation, some looking rather pale in the face from the sort of rumours that had been spreading. Sometimes you wondered if the headmistress enjoyed the preposterous things students came out with. As you found an empty seat, your eyes caught Draco's. You must have only looked at him for a second, but it felt much longer when you looked away. Since Saturday, you hadn't spoken to him despite sharing classes. You weren't entirely sure whether to show up at the tower or not.

"Settle down, settle down," McGonagall bellowed over the raging chatter, "take your seats." 

The noise soon came to a holt, students scrambling to the benches. McGonagall's elegant yet intimidating aura was enough to quieten anyone. Her eyes scan the room for any culprits, before she clears her throat. 

"Now," she begins, "I believe you are all suffering in dire anticipation to hear my announcement, so I won't make you wait much longer," all eyes were glued to the front as she pauses, "in two weeks time, Hogwarts shall be hosting a ball."

The room erupts again, but with one swift hand, it dies as soon as it starts. 

"As I was saying," McGonagall continues, "we are hosting a ball, but it is not just for students. Friends and acquaintances of Hogwarts will also be in attendance, which means I require you all to be on your best behaviour." She looks directly at the Slytherin table, "as to not embarrass our beloved school."

Hermione spins around to search for you, a huge smile plastering her face as she spots you. You return it with equal excitement.

"You may find more information on the posters Mr Filch will be placing around the school," she says, "but for now, we have a glorious feast awaiting us."

McGonagall claps her hands, and the tables are lined with delicious dishes. The only conversation during dinner was the ball, the girl beside you going on and on about how much she loves dances, and big, bold dresses that sounded very much like tea cosies. 

Across the hall, Draco sits poking at his food. If the ball was supposed to make him feel happy, it had very much done the opposite. In his mind, this was just another excuse for his mother to partner him up with some air headed girl. He looks across the room to see you, smiling and laughing with your fellow housemates, and his heart sinks a little. He wonders what you think about it, if you even like that sort of thing. Would you ask someone? Would you say yes if someone asked you?  The only thing he can seem to picture is the inevitable, you, dancing with someone else, dressed up for someone else. He stabs his fork into the food on his plate and takes a big gulp of water. Draco doesn't want to think about it, any of it. Not the ball, your date or the girl he'll end up taking. He'd rather not know. He'd rather the ball not happen.

He promptly leaves, the noise alone giving him a headache. The food on his plate goes cold, and he's long gone before you notice his absence.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

[bejeweledblondie]

Hello! God, I recently found your blog and I love it!!! I'm also a big Taylor fan and I've had this idea in mind! You are free to do it [or not do it] and modify it!

Based on *All too Well*

I was thinking of one of these guys

Jonh Price / Köing/ Ghost/ Philip Graves

"You kept me like a secret and I kept it like an oath"

"But you keep my old scarf from that very first week' Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me"

And maybe we got lost in translationMaybe I asked for too much"

I love the song and I can't stop thinking about them!!!

-🌙

Hello! So happy you’re enjoying the blog! No joke I had this sitting in my drafts debating on whether or not to post it! I lost my voice last Friday SCREAMING “All Too Well” in the theater. Even if you’re not a swiftie it’s just a lyrical masterpiece

All to Well 🧣

Captain John Price x F! Reader

Summary: Based on the ten minute version of All Too Well, John has to face what he had done to his beloved red scarf & all

Warnings: cheating, John being a dick, the usual

“And maybe we got lost in translation maybe I asked for too much, maybe this thing was a master piece before you tore it all up”

Heels in hand Y/N sat on the steps of the hotel where the military ball she was attending with John was being held. She was sobbing her eyes out into her hands. While trying to figure out where he wandered off to, she stumbled across him & his secretary having sex in a bathroom stall. He had told her not to worry about her, but her intuition told her otherwise. These past few months had been excruciatingly difficult. He spent his time home out late, leave her to sit by the front door waiting for him to return. Shallow excuses coming from him over the phone had made her cry herself to sleep one too many times. The sickening smell of his secretary’s perfume lingered on him when he’d come home, & yet he gaslighted her into believing otherwise.

She stood up as she saw the Uber she had called for pull up in front of the hotel. John was adjusting his dress uniform bow tie while running towards the doors to intercept her. Other officers looked at him confused as he sped past them. His secretary Camille wasn’t too far behind him calling his name. Y/N turned her head back when she heard him calling her name. With haste she closed the door to the Uber & ordered the driver to speed away. John was left standing on the sidewalk watching her go. He let out an annoyed sigh & turned around to see his team at the doors. Laswell looking so disappointed in him, & what he had done.

It had been months since Y/N moved out. Contrary to the rumors, Camille didn’t move in with the Captain. She was swiftly fired from her position, & was forced out of the contracting community. Laswell made sure of that. No, John was forced to live with the ghosts of his past lover. Just last week he found the red scarf that she adored hidden in a couch cushion. He inhaled the scent of the red wool trying to remember what her perfume smelled like.

Kyle was deeply concerned for his superiors mental health ever since he ended his relationship so they decided to go to the local pub. After a quick shower & shave he got dressed. He grabbed his jacket off of the rack. The red wool scarf hung beside it taunting him of his mistake. He grabbed it & put it on before leaving. Simon greeted him at the door & they all got a round then headed back to a table in the back corner. He was starting to feel himself go back to happy self before he ended things with Y/N. That was until she walked in with a couple of friends.

They locked eyes, & there was shift in the air. It felt tense. Simon picked it up on the body language shift in his Captain. He followed John’s gaze & sighed as soon as his spotted her. She looked equally as emotionally distressed.

“Talk to her,” Simon said. “You look absolutely fucking miserable Price, & you two have a lot to fix.” Price looked at Simon knowing he was right, this was his mistake he needed to fix. He reluctantly stood up & wiped his hands on his jeans. Her friend Este, stopped mid sentence to glare at the bearded man. She turned around knowing it was coming sooner rather then later.

“Let’s get this over with.” She sighed following him out to the street. You both sat on a bench only a few shops down from the pub. John had planned thousands of things to say to you but now he was speechless.

“What do you want John?” She asked looking at him. “Did we get lost in translation, did I ask for too much?” She spat. Embarrassment & shame turned his cheeks crimson red.

“I wanted to talk.” He simply stated. “I was a fucking selfish prick.”

“I’ll say.” You scoffed. “I swear all you men have the fucking audacity I swear.”

“I don’t disagree.” He replied in agreement. “Listen, I’m in a new hell Y/N.”

“You don’t think I am?” She cried out. “What we had was a masterpiece John before you tore it all up.”

“And I was a fucking idiot.” John said.

“You told me if we had been closer in age, maybe we would’ve been fine.” She stated. “God I still do love you dearly, John. But how can I make sure you won’t break me like a promise?” He took the red wool that lingered of her vanilla fragrance & placed it around her neck.

“Because instead of mailing your things to you, I kept a whole drawer of memories you left behind hoping you’d return to me. You’re the only real thing I’ve ever known.” He replied honestly. She was taken a back he kept even the littlest things she left, from hair pins to the red scarf. Anything to still have a piece of her. He placed a hand on her now flushed cheek. The bitter cold London air started to nip at their exposed skin. Little flecks of white glistened as it started to fall from the sky. The first snow of the winter season. He grabbed her waist & pulled her in for a deep kiss. After they both pulled away they sat in the moment to remember it all too well.

[teas-of-trin]

"Camille and Amy are further unsettling because they invert--indeed, weaponize--the violence aimed at them and gain power through the language they have been historically denied. "

"...her motivation in solving the Wind Gap murders is unconsciously linked to this sorrow. Camille's inability to find a home stems from her newfound position as an objective stranger, someone who is not passive and detached, but simultaneously distant and near, indifferent and involved. Despite having belonged to the Wind Gap "group" in her adolescence and her childhood, Camille's external development as an antiheroine now renders her strange...she imports qualities into [the group], which do not and cannot stem from the group itself"

"Camille's acts of self-harm place her in the liminal space between life and death and serve as a physical reminder of her existential uneasiness... Camille's cutting is a safety net...the words cut into Camille's flesh symbolize her fraught relationship with femininity"

"The perpetual links here between self-mutilation, sexual desire, and maternal control speak to anxieties surrounding female otherness, suggesting that the antiheroine-stranger is inextricably and disturbingly tied up with such notions. In crossing these patriarchal boundaries and defying traditional notions of femininity, the antiheroine-stranger remains familiar, rejected, and desired in her transcendence."

"Camille is a variation of Camilla and the Latin name, camillus, meaning noble youth attending at sacrifices, or acolyte. The connections here between the violent sacrificial deaths (of humans and animals) and smothering motherhood further enunciate Camille's outside status, for her very name positions her as involved but detached, distant but near--an attendee or observer, a stranger."

"Amma's fascination with the objectified animals [pigs] hints at her own internalization of patriarchal methods of violence control, which she then internalizes through the act of murder, whereas Camille redirects the violence onto herself. Both methods expose the cyclic nature of patriarchal violence, suggesting that the antiheroine-stranger must either redirect such violence towards others or decide to harm herself, both of which operate as a coping mechanism and method of cathartic expression"

"Amma's violent transition into adulthood holds a mirror to Camille's own traumatic past, but Camille's social exclusion and strangeness are also exacerbated by her significant lack of a physical and symbolic place to call home...[Camille] hated being in Wind Gap, but home held no comfort either, with its "cheap transitory, and mostly uninspired" aesthetic only reinforcing her wandering and nomadic status. Conversely, the family home in Wind Gap is stagnant in its isolation and memories of Marian's death."

"The name of the town itself suggests a transitory place, a space defined by invisible forces, absence, and now, inexplicable crime. Camille's own childhood abuse at the hands of her mother is suggested from the moment she reinhabits her childhood hom, for her dreams begin to confuse memory, fear, and unreality...It is the reconnection of the self with the familiar, transitory space that allows Camille to confront the horror and realities of her past. Further grounding of this dream as symbolic of her own past is Camille's discovery shortly afterwards of Natalie Keene's corpse, found in a physically liminal location...Natalie's body, simultaneously innocent and defiled, speaks to the sexual anxieties surrounding female deviancy, sexual expression, and violence, confronting Camille with her uneasy relationship with her (strange) self and others. The positioning of Natalie's body is also fittingly gendered given that she refutes traditional binary gender performances in her own propensity for violence and her tomboy personality. Viscerally disturbed by the sight of Natalie's body--which is representative of the "utmost abjection--Camille also unknowingly faces the realities of her childhood and witnesses her potential future as a fatal victim of Adora's 'love'".

"Camille's position as a stranger...clouds her ability to find the truth efficiently, yet it also empowers her to find answers eventually."

"Camille unrelentingly confronts the boundary of life and death, actively skirting the borderline to gain a sense of control over her own body and identity...It is only because of her position as a recognizable stranger that Camille is able to confront the truth of her past and expose both Amma's and Adora's crimes."

"...Camille engages with the borderline between life and death as a way of reconciling her inner turmoil...."

-From, "To Start: I Should Never Should Have Been Born": The Antiheroine as Stranger in Gillian Flynn's Sharp Objects and Gone Girl by Eleanore Gardner

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Pleasure Is My Business: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: You’re brought back to your high school days with this case. You put that behind you when you graduated, but life has a funny way of bringing you closer to the person who made your life miserable back then.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

"The prostitute is not, as feminists claim, the victim of men, but rather their conqueror, an outlaw, who controls the sexual channels between nature and culture." - Camille Paglia

Before you leave for work, you grab the coffee you premade as soon as you wake up. The coffee is right next to your high school reunion invitation. The opened card stares at you whenever you pass by it, begging you to acknowledge it. High school was one of the worst years of your life because not only did kids bully you, but you felt their own pain as your own.

It wasn't fun.

This reunion is in a few days but you're still in Quantico. Looks like you won't get to go, and honestly, you're kind of relieved. Spencer wants you to go and prove to everyone you're this hotshot FBI agent (which you are), but you don't feel like proving to a bunch of people who never gave a fuck about you in the first place.

"Are you gonna go?" Spencer says from behind you.

"We'll, seeing how it's in a few days and we're not in Dallas, I don't think so. It's so stupid because instead of a night, they made it a whole weekend getaway. As if I want to spend more time with them than I have to."

"Maybe you can go to the other one."

All you can do is shrug. You really don't want to get into this right now, plus, you have to get ready for a case Hothc pulled together. Hotch got called to Dallas early in the morning to do a briefing on a case sent by Patrick Jackson, the attorney general.

Hoyt Ashford, a hedge fund manager for a major bank, has turned up dead in a hotel room. Hoyt didn't do too well in the public eye after going on talk shows and talking about how the real estate crisis wasn't a real thing. He posted an apology video about the issue, but once word got out that he died, his lawyers classified it as a suicide.

If you know any better, then that's not true.

According to Hotch, there was Viagra near Hoyt's body. Considering that his wife was at home with the kids, it's safe to assume the prostitute he was with killed him. Something that's confidential and not to be mentioned in any reports is that Hoyt took $10,000 out of a fund in cash. No one saw the prostitute he was with, which isn't surprising since they know how to be discreet. According to Patrick, this is the second murder in Dallas.

You might be able to attend your reunion after all.

"Female serial killers are a fascinating field," Spencer says once everyone is in the air. "We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Take the signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies because there is no sexual gratification when a woman kills. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra."

"So, basically, women are more efficient at killing," you half-joke.

"Historically, they have had body counts in the hundreds."

"Assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?" Hotch asks over the phone.

"Money, drugs, and PTSD. At some point, every call girl, no matter how well paid, gets coerced into an activity she didn't consent to. Aileen Wuornos used to purposefully stage paid sexual encounters as an excuse to murder men she thought would rape her," you explain.

"Wuornos was psychotic and disorganized. I think this girl is poisoning them before she has sex with them."

"She's using Tetramethylenedisulfotetramine. It's a popular rat poison in China which can be easily soluble in alcohol," Spencer explains after reading the files Hotch sent over.

"Poison is the perfect MO. It's quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they're getting lucky." Hotch makes an uncertain noise. "Does that mean something to you?"

"These men are paying $10,000 a night for discretion as well as sex. She has a history with them. She didn't decide to kill them at the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them, and she's doing it before she sleeps with them. She's not just organized, she's also methodical. She decides early which one of her clients is worth killing," Hotch says.

"Maybe the victims all share the same fetish. Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible, and careful of their image. If they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it."

"We're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out."

"Actually, I had some luck there. Hoyt's wife isn't too happy with how he died. She agreed to talk to us but because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement." JJ pulls out her phone to read the statement that was sent to her. "Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.' They're already trying to close ranks."

"Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?" Spencer asks.

"What do you mean?"

"It's the same thing as the murder of the first victim. 'According to the company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home'."

"Y/N and Morgan, start with the wife and see if you can get her to open up. JJ, call the lawyers and tell them I want to meet with both of them."

"You want to play them off each other?"

"I think one of them wrote both press releases. Let's see which one calls us back."

Once you land, you and Derek head over to the Ashford home where Yvonne Ashford is eagerly waiting for you.

"Mrs. Ashford, we're very sorry about your husband," you say.

"I've been getting nothing but condolences all day. I feel like a hypocrite for accepting them, knowing how he died."

"We think your husband might have been targeted because of something sexual he did with this call girl. I know this is hard, but is there anything you can tell us about what he liked?"

"In bed? I can sum it up in one word. Younger."

"How much younger?"

"Twenty-five. That was when I first met him."

"So, your age difference was part of the attraction?"

"Are you kidding? It was the whole relationship."

"Mrs. Ashford, no offense, but your husband spent a lot of money on this woman. Was there anything else at all that he liked from a younger woman besides the ego boost?" Derek asks.

"There's a certain kind of man, Agent, for whom the only kind of sex that matters is the ego boost. In a marriage like ours, you have to work at it or in my husband's case, pay for it."

Your phone rings and you step off to the side when you see Hotch is calling.

"Yeah, Hotch?"

"We got a meeting with a madame that sets meetings up like the one Ashford was in. Spencer is heading over to meet with her. I want you to go with him."

"Sure." You hang up and walk over to Derek. "I got to go. See what else you can find out about Hoyt."

"Yeah."

The madame, Lauren, is hosting an open house where she is able to meet clients discreetly. It's actually pretty smart since people might think they're there for the open house instead of something else entirely.

"This is actually pretty smart," you say when you meet up with Spencer. "Properties like this are safe and an inspection-free investment for large sums of cash."

An older woman walks out of the house with a big smile on her face.

"Well, hello, you two!"

"Are you the--"

"Isn't this neighborhood just fabulous? You're gonna love this house," she cuts your boyfriend off. She escorts you two inside the house for more privacy. "You two need lessons in faking it. I teach a class."

"So, you arrange dates for escorts?" you ask.

"All I arrange are meetings. What happens between two consenting adults when that meeting is over is something I'm not liable for. Now, who wants a scone?" she offers from a platter.

"Listen, we're looking for someone who is a high-end prostitute who takes fees up to ten thousand dollars. She has the intent of killing her clients before having sex with them."

"Oh, yes. We all know about this woman. She's terrible for business."

"I guess there's only so many men that can afford the service you provide, right?"

"Yes, but with the way she's behaving, she's only hurting herself. An escort's client list is the most important investment she has. It's her daily income and her retirement package when she sells the list."

"She's not working with a service then. No madam would allow an escort to kill off the clientele."

"What about the type of work your employees do?" Spencer asks nervously. "We're sort of operating under the assumption that this escort is killing men who make her perform a specific sexual act."

"What did you have in mind, sweetie?" she smirks.

"I... I don't even... I don't know."

"Don't mind him," you giggle. "It's his first time."

"If I may, I think you're looking at this all wrong. Start with this question: why would a man pay a woman five figures?"

"It's not just for sex, is it?"

"Of course, you've got to be good in bed to be successful, but that's the easy part. What men want more than the no strings attached sex is a therapist. Someone who will absorb the worst parts of their personalities."

"They're looking for someone to tell their fears and insecurities to. Everything they can't take home to their wife."

"That's what I groom my girls to do--how to talk to these men and how to listen. Don't get me wrong, deviancy comes with the territory. I can't tell you how many men need to be submissive as an outlet from their extremely stressful jobs. I can tell you that if the sex was the reason she was killing these men, she would have broken long before she charged $10,000."

"It isn't how these men act in bed, it's how they act out of it," Spencer says.

This unsub isn't killing at a specific time because it's whenever her client wants to meet with her. While you've been talking to Lauren, another murder has taken place. You and Spencer leave the open house and immediately head over to an office firm.

Joseph Fielding is found dead inside the elevator, tied to an office chair with X's marked in lipstick on his eyes, and clear tape wrapped around all over his mouth.

"The victim is Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here," Rossi says when you two get there.

"Was he poisoned?"

"Yes, and staged. She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found."

You walk over to the victim but pause when you see the energy left behind by the unsub. It's blue because the unsub is a female, but you recognize this energy. There are eight billion people in this world with eight billion different base energies. Every single person you've met has their own energy signatures, and you're familiar with this one. Not only have you seen this energy before, you know the person attached to it.

You've met and gotten to know this person before.

"I know this unsub," you say.

"You do?" Hotch asks.

"Yeah, but I can't put a name to it yet. I've definitely seen it sometime in my life."

Hotch gives you time to put a name to the unsub, but for right now, he focuses on what he can see physically.

"The lipstick is new."

"It was done postmortem. Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable. Now she wants to be noticed."

There is commotion by the barrier formed by local police by a man trying to get through, which he does eventually.

"Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?"

"Me."

"I'm Larry Bartlett. I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries."

"This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett."

"I know. I spoke to Ellen Daniels, and she said you're a very reasonable man."

"Escort him out, please," Hotch says to one of the officers.

"No, wait. Please." The officer tries to grab him, but he doesn't leave right away. "The press is outside and they can smell blood. Is there any way we can handle this discreetly?"

"We're not about to lie for you," Derek says.

"You don't have to lie. Just don't comment."

"Excuse us."

Hotch takes the team off to the side to talk about the benefits of not commenting on the murder. "Is there any reason to go public yet?"

"Validating her is exactly what she wants. If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake," you say quietly.

"He doesn't need to know that. We need everything you have on Fielding like bank accounts, tax records, and emails."

"Everything?" Larry asks in uncertainty.

"Everything."

"I'll gather everything and send it in the morning."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[tpwkwriter]

helloooo, you are like one of my fave writers!! I am requesting one with lhh where the reader feels very insecure and harry is comforting her and telling her she is absolutely beautiful and how in love he is with her and how he remembers the first time he saw her he knew she was the one and that he had never seen any one so breathtaking. And then they start kissing and it slowly escalates till harry tells he "let me show you how beautiful you are" or smth like that i dont really know and then the after careeee!!! OMG I WOULD DIEEE. Could you please write that?? THANK YOUUU!!!

Baby your perfect.

Omg! Thank you for your lovely words it always means the world 🤭

And yessss! This concept!! 🫢 and lhh 😩

Im a tad sucky on writing smut/smutty-ish stuff so I hope this works for you and you enjoy! 🤎

Also this absolutely no hate to any of these women mentioned!!!! Especially Kendall Jenner/kardashians for story purposes only!! 👑

*Warnings*- struggling with body image, low self esteem, language, hint towards smut and adultish themes! ✌🏻

Y/n’s Life had felt like it’s been on the right track for a while now.

She’s finally enjoying her career, her friendships have never been better, her relationship with H is the her pride and joy, hence them nearing there 5 year anniversary.

The only downside to all of this is her social media.

Ever since a young age y/n struggled with social media and unrealistic beauty standards.

And when your boyfriends exes include the Looks of: Kendall Jenner, Taylor swift, Camille rowe, that feeling of ‘Not good enough’ Never really goes away.

Y/n found herself in there shared bathroom gazing at the mirror before her wondering why she looked the way she did.

She really wondered what H saw in her, all the models and actresses and he chose her.

She examined her body, suddenly getting this feeling that she felt when she was 15 wondering why she wasn’t as pretty as the other girls in school.

Apart from she was and she didn’t even know.

She spotted every insecurity, from the stretch marks around her hips, to the scars and marks she developed on her body.

Tears begun to form in the corner of her eyes, her reflection became unbearable.

She wanted to forget this night had even started like this.

She cosied in her shared bed awaiting Harry’s return from the studio, she pulled out her phone ready to text her love, when her twitter notifications distracted her.

Mistakenly she clicked on the app, and was left feeling lower then she already had.

“Former kardashian and Jenner star admitted to pleading for another chance with singer and songwriter Harry styles!”

She clicked on the thread to be greeted with many images and gifs of her.

Her perfect figure, eyes, face, everything, she had everything.

And that’s what Harry deserved, he deserves it all.

Without even thinking y/n finds herself angrily throwing her brush against the wall out of anger.

“Baby?” A familiar voice called.

‘Fuck’ she though to herself.

He’s home

“Y’alright darling” he said, voice getting louder and closer.

“M’Fine” she sighed, trying her best to hide her tears.

There shared room door gets pushed open.

“Baby” he gently Said.

“H”

“What’s going on?” He said placing his jacket on the back of the vanity chair and toeing his trainers off.

“Nothing” she said forcing a smile to persuade the man.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing” he said raising an eyebrow and joining her next to her on the bed.

She remained quiet, thinking of how to play this out.

“Baby, Jus’ me y’know its okay” he said running a hand through his long curly locks.

“I don’t understand why your with me” she breathes, avoiding eye contact.

“Y/n?” He asked confused as hell.

“Baby, where is this Coming from? What?” He asks placing his ringed hand on her exposed thigh.

“You don’t deserve me H” she said finally breathed making cold eye contact with him.

“You deserve someone prettier, skinner, and overall better, than..whatever i am” she Said tears threatening to leave her eyes.

“Baby Girl” he asks manoeuvring his palms up to girls cheeks and pulling her in closer.

“Where is this coming from?, y’my girl, my gorgeous girl” he said heart almost breaking at the sight and sound of his girl.

“Kendall” she mumbles, tears finally falling.

“Kendall?” He asks eyebrows knitted together.

“She wants You back H, and now the whole world knows it” she quietly cries leaning her forehead on his.

He finally gets it, it adds up all in his head.

“Baby” he speaks, pressing a kiss to her cold lips.

“Fuckin’ hell” he says kissing her cheek replacing the salty tears.

“Y’really think, I want her huh?” He smiles

“My silly girl” he sniffs, trying to make light of this situation.

He removes his hands and opened his arms signalling for her to get in.

She sits on his lap, almost koala style with both legs wrapped around his waist and both arms over his shoulders.

“Now that you’ve got me, y’won’t be getting rid of me” he said dancing his fingertips on her back.

“I just…I don’t get it” she sniffed

“Why me” she mumbled, snuggling her face into his neck.

“Why you huh?” He breathed

“Well, the first time saw you, the thing I saw was not only y’beauty, but m’future, m’life, Ive Never met someone as breathtaking as you m’love Call me a sap, but y’my muse now” he gently said.

“Not Kendall, Not no one else, jus’ you” he said kissing the side of Face.

“Can y’look at me darling?” He whispered.

She happily complied, lifting her face from his neck and revealing her beautiful glossy eyes but now with a small smile to her face.

“I love you” he says kissing her lips hard and straight forward.

“Y’never to forget that”

“Love you too H, I’m sorry for being silly” she smiles

“None of tha’ i get it”

Without being able to finish properly, the girl crashes her lips on his.

“I’m so in love with you” she mumbles against his lips.

“Y’make me crazy baby” he smirks

“Please Baby, let me Show you How much y’mean to me” he says going in again.

“Show How beautiful You Are angel”

“Mmhmm” she nods

— — — — —

The Girl lies hazily in there bathtub of there en-suite bathroom, reminiscing on tonight’s events.

God she was grateful to have H, no matter what rut she finds herself in, he manages to no matter what pull her out.

“Hey beautiful girl” he said coming in pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Fresh sheets and tea on the bedside” he said while placing the girls fresh Pyjamas ( his hoodie and Boxers) on the closed toilet lid.

“Thank you baby”

“I’ll join you in a sec” she added

“Take y’time love”

Once y/n’s bath was done, she slipped into her boyfriends clothes he prepared for her, and reunited with her lover in there shared bed.

“Y’feeling okay m’honey?” He asks putting his phone down and leaning into his girl.

“Mmhmm” she hummed slipping under the soft sheets.

“Y’the best” she sighed.

“Mm certainly am” he smirked.

“Ugh great I just fed your ego more” she joked playfully rolling her eyes.

“There’s my y/n back” he smiled pressing a kiss to her temple.

— — — — —

Again thank your for your request and please, please tell me of this is any good! 😩 again I’m sorry for skimming the smutty Part Bit im so awkward writing it 😭 love love loveeee you all ❤️

[xxxnecrotica]

"fuck it. i got mine." >>>>>>

best final line ever.

i expected gore like in Perry's episode but that's okay. they made up fur it with that STUNNING monologue. the monologue about animal testing, someone else has to be hurt or whatever Verna said, "it didn't have to be those way. it could've happened peacefully, in a bed." "it's nothing personal. I'm sorry." i read a post about how death was gentle to all of them, gave them an option to Not die Like That, but they didn't take the chance to grow old and die peacefully and even death seems to regret it. Verna gave Camille several warnings. she didn't have to go in there. but she was so, like, in her head about exposing Victorine and all that. that she didn't heed the warnings. and she was so self centered and aggressive

the acting fur Verna was phenomenal here like when she started to go monkey or whatever <3 "she lies. she pumps us full of adrenaline to make it look like it works" the way her body language kinda changed a little bit after she jumped on the table THE MONOLOGUE ABOUT ANIMAL TESTING WAS SO GOOD I CANT GET OVER IT EHAUWJUAEJHWJEUJSUS

AND THE REVEAAALLL THE CAMERA REVEAL THE FLASH!!!!! SO GOOD

and yk i still don't understand why Camille hated Victorine. i guess ill look into that when I'm done with the series

something I'm tempted to look into is WHY TF TAMERLANE IS INTO LIKE CUCKOLDING OR WHATEVER WHWAHEUHWUAJWUEJ but i don't wanna get spoiledddd

i don't think it's exactly cuckolding though i mean that's what i thought at first but it's more like. she's projecting. onto the woman. and pretending it was her. ??????

and I'm so sad about Morrie i genuinely thought she got out safe ): they didnt show what happened to her in e1 and after Verna warned her i assumed she was gonna be fine ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ I LOVE HER I DONT WANT ANYTHING BAD TO HAPPEN TO HER ANYMORE

anyway i love this series there's always so much to unpack per episode, if people think hill House is better i wonder what hill House is like HAHAHHAHAH ik that's just subjective tho and is already enjoy house of usher a LOT bc of its deep topics related to society and shiii

[justice4billy]

You're the worst-Part two

Warnings; Allusions to smut/smutty language

Camille winced as Mariah tied the final strap on her top. She grimaced at the tight red and white fabric that adorned her curved body, it was supposed to be ‘sexy Santa’ according to Mariah.

‘’I look like a slut’’ Camille stated surveying the garment.

It was a red corset that tied around her back, the fabric was tight red lycra with a furry white lining around the neck. The fabric clung to her like a second skin and exposed a sliver of pale skin, whilst the top pushed up her already ample chest. Mariah had paired it with an equally tight red skirt and knee high red boots to match.

‘’It’s Christmas, you have an obligation to be a little slutty’’ Mariah winked.

Camille groaned. ‘’I look ridiculous’’ she stated trying to putt down the top so it covered her belly button.

‘’Stop it’’ Mariah commanded slapping her hands away. ‘’You look hot and I think your going to attract some attention tonight’’ she winked.

‘’I don’t want too’’ Camille huffed. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to any man, let alone Billy.

‘’Come on, your newly single and ready to mingle’’ Mariah encouraged with an eye roll.

Camille huffed, not adding anything more to the conversation. She just hoped she could get through this night and then go home and curl up in bed.

‘’Girls, are you ready?!’’ Danny hollered up the stairs.

‘’Coming!’’ Mariah called back as she took Camille’s hand and rushed down the steps.

The girls came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Camille’s eyes widening slightly when she saw Billy standing in the hallway. He had a red button down shirt exposing some of his tanned chest, his pendant resting against his taut chest and some jeans.

‘’Oh, you two match’’ Mariah stated with a smile. Camille narrowed her eyes and elbowed her in the ribs, causing her to let out a small oomph.

Billy smirked at the comment, his eyes making their way over to Camille as they roamed the entire expanse of her body slowly, starting from the top of her head and finishing at her red boots. His tongue poked out to wet his lips as he rolled his toothpick around his mouth, a sinful look flashed in his blue orbs and a smug smirk adorned his face as he blatantly checked her out.

Camille bit her lip not used to the attention, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Billy. She squeezed her thighs together feeling heat burning through her core, what the fuck was wrong with her. Maybe it was because she hadn’t had sex in months even when she was with Brad, he always said he was too tired. Yeah, that had to be it.

‘’We thought it would be cheaper to split a taxi four ways’’ Danny stated.

Camille snapped out of her trance, craning her head towards him. ‘’Makes sense’’ she replied not trusting herself to speak.

‘’Well, it should be here now’’ Danny stated as he put his arm around Mariah and kissed her head. ‘’You look gorgeous sweetheart’’ he muttered.

Mariah giggled playfully and swatted at his chest. ‘’Oh stop it you’’ she giggled.

The foursome made their way towards the taxi that was awaiting them, Camille making sure to squeeze herself between Mariah and the door. She did not want to sit anywhere near Billy, unfortunately that meant he had to sit opposite her and she could of sworn she felt his eyes on her the entire ride. This was going to be a long night.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

An hour into the night and Camille was surprised that she was having a good time, lucky for her Billy had picked up some other poor girl and decided to flirt with her. She had been dancing with Mariah and drinking the two for one cocktails that were on offer, until the girl stated her feet were hurting and that she wanted to sit in their booth that Danny had managed to reserve.

Camille said she would join them, but wanted to get another drink first which Mariah declined. She trotted her way over to the bar careful not to sway on her feet, she was already five drinks in and tonight she planned on getting wasted and forgetting all about Brad and his small penis.

‘’Sex on the beach please’’ she called out to the bartender who gave her a nod in acknowledgement.

‘’Hey, let me buy these’’ a guy cut in.

Camille turned to her left. A tall and broad guy was standing beside her, a small grin on his face as his brown eyes shone under the disco lights. He was cute, if you liked the high school football player type, blonde hair flopped over to one side of his head with his pearly white on show as he smiled at her.

‘’Why thank you’’ Camille replied flirty batting her eye lashes for effect.

‘’Pretty girls should never pay for their drinks’’ he stated.

‘’I’m flattered that I’m classed as a pretty girl’’ Camille replied.

The guy smiled. ‘’You’re gorgeous’’ he complimented before sticking out his hand. ‘’The names Jason’’ he introduced himself.

Camille took his hand. ‘’Camille’’ she replied back.

‘’My friends and I are playing pool’’ he stated nodding over to some guys and girls. ‘’Wanna join?’’ he asked.

Camille debated in her head, should she really go off with some guy she didn’t know. But he did get her a drink, she didn’t want to be rude. ‘’I just need to tell my friend, she would worry you see’’ Camille explained. It was always best to be safe and Mariah could see her from her booth.

‘’Sure no problem’’ Jason gave her a lazy smile.

Camille turned around and trotted towards the booth, her drink in hand that she had watched the bar tender make and give to her. She did not want to risk being spiked.

‘’Hey’’ Mariah beamed leaning her head on Dannys shoulder.

‘’Hey, so this guy approached me at the bar and asked if I wanted to play pool over there’’ she explained pointing to the pool table where Jason was standing with his friends. ‘’Should I go?’’ she asked.

‘’Of course you freaking should’’ Mariah stated. ‘’But any signs of trouble, give us a signal so we can rescue you’’ she instructed with a waving gesture.

‘’Will do Mom’’ Camille replied.

‘’Go get some dick girl’’ Mariah encouraged with a whoop.

Camille rolled her eyes playfully, before turning on her heel with her drink in hand and making her way towards Jason. ‘’So, how are we doing this?’’ she asked.

Jason smiled. ‘’Thought we could play in teams’’ he suggested. ‘’You and me versus my friend Ben and his girl Delilah’’ he stated gesturing to the boy and girl beside him. The boy gave her a nod and the girl gave her a friendly wave.

‘’Okay, but I’m not the best’’ Camille stated.

‘’I can always teach you’’ Jason winked.

Camille took a big gulp and finished off her drink just as Jason handed her a pool cue. A few matches later and they were sinking, well more like Camille was just really rubbish at pool.

‘’God, I suck at this game’’ she whined her drunkenness taking over.

‘’That’s because you’re holding the damn cue wrong’’ a voice stated.

Camille turned on her heel meeting the eye of Billy who was standing beside her, a beer in his hand and a smirk on his face. Why the hell did he have to appear, she was having a good time and he was off somewhere else.

Camille grimaced. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ she asked with a slight slur to her voice. ‘’Your date not want to see you?’’ she goaded.

Billy shrugged. ‘’She didn’t have big enough tits’’ he replied.

‘’You masoggynist’’ Camille replied.

‘’You mean misogynist?’’ Billy asked in amusement.

‘’Whatever’’ Camille fired back feeling embarrassed.

Billy shrugged. ‘’Guess you and your pal don’t want to win then’’ he replied finishing off his beer.

‘’Like you could offer me anything’’ Camille scoffed turning away from him.

‘’Actually’’ she heard his voice which now sounded a lot closer than before, she felt his hand on her hip. ‘’You need to hold the cue a bit more like this’’ he instructed reaching around to grab her right hand and placed it near the bottom of the cue. She felt him let out a breath, goosebumps coating her neck as she shuddered slightly. ‘’Now, you gotta bend over and put the tip of the cue between your left finger’’ he stated nudging her leg with his knee and bending her forward.

Camille felt all breath leave her body at the intimate position, their bodies molded together creating a fire that burned through her core. She felt her wetness in her matching red knickers.

‘’Now shoot’’ Billy whispered as he covered his hand over hers, drawing the pool cue back and potting the coloured ball.

‘’Shit, nice one dude’’ Jason congratulated already too drunk to notice the tension between Camille and Billy.

Camille stood up straight, effectively shrugging Billy off her the blonde being forced to step back slightly. ‘’Oh my god’’ she stated before turning around and throwing her arms around Billy. ‘’We did it!’’ she exclaimed.

‘’You mean I did it’’ he stated placing both of his hands on her hip.

Camille pulled back, her hands loosening around his neck. She noted just how close the pair were to each other. ‘’You always have to brag’’ she stated weakly staring at his pink lips. She never noticed how plump they were before.

‘’It’s my talent sweetheart’’ Billy stated rubbing circles over her exposed skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

The nickname shot straight to her core, her heart fluttered in her chest. It must be the drink, she would never have reacted like this to Billy if she were sober.

‘’In fact, I think I deserve a reward’’ he whispered their noses brushing against each other, the pair making intimate eye contact that Camille forget all about Jason and his friends.

‘’What kind?’’ Camille whispered.

Billy shurgged, his hands moving to skim the curve of her ass. ‘’A kiss maybe’’ he suggested.

Camille hitched her breath, craning her head slightly to look for Jason. She didn’t want to be rude and make him think she had forgotten him. She gasped slightly when Billy grabbed her chin and turned her back to face him, his cool metal rings caressing her soft skin.

‘’He’s busy sweetheart’’ he muttered nodding over her head.

Camille turned her head slightly noting that Jason was now emursed in a conversation with his friends. She only had a moment to breifly glance over before Billy was turning her to him again.

‘’How about that reward?’’ he asked her.

‘’I-‘’ Camille stated not getting a chance to speak, Billy let go of her chin and pulled her towards him with his hands on her ass. Their lips crashed together, all teeth and tongue as the kiss deepened very quickly. Camille let out an embarrassing moan when he put his tongue in her mouth, he tasted like mint and cigarettes and she couldn’t help but feel addicted to the taste.

He backed her up so she was against the pool table, before picking her up and sitting her on the edge. Their lips never disconnected, the kiss only getting more hotter and feverish as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Billy groaned when he felt her wetness brush up against his erected penis. ‘’You’re fucking wet, this all for me?’’ he asked in between kisses as he peppered light kisses over her delicate and exposed skin.

‘’y-yes’’ Camille stuttered as she arched her back at his hot kisses.

She didn’t remember much after that, flashes of moving through a crowded and hot room, the surprised looks of Mariah and Danny flitted through her head as they made their way into the back of a taxi, feverish kisses shared between the pair. Camille knew this night didn’t go to plan and she could never go back to the way things were.

[thanksforthedinosaur]

july 2024

charli xcx - 360

alice longyu gao - lesbians <3

shygirl - mute

salute - luv stuck

wilo wilde - all these little words

hunnygloss - somebody's daughter

dazegxd - way 2 good (idc)

llll - dunno what it is

ienne - pollen - matrace remix

janghoon - believe

angel jelly - gacha

snoozegod - paradox

rocco bunko - project

sophia stel - object permanence (radio edit)

abbi press - atmadja

perc%nt - origami

porter robinson - russian roulette

elizabeth rose bloodflame - above below

cyber milk chan - sunkissed

joint beauty - tokyo friday night

wednesday campanella - carolina

newjeans - supernatural

kohei shimizu - supernova +..++.*…

hakos baelz - hide & seek 〜なかよくケンカしな！〜

tinashe - getting no sleep

nai br.xx - ride

piao - flip phone

kallitechnis - nights without you

hailey knox - on nothing

raveena - junebug (feat. jpegmafia)

kaytranada - more than a little bit (feat. tinashe)

jaden - "roses"

kehlani - 8

sycco - swarm

raye - genesis, pt. ii

don toliver - inside (feat. travis scott)

nxworries - fallthru

mgk - bmxxing

nyck caution - good company

donte thomas - crashing down

lenny gazebo - distant memories

logic - deja vu (feat. dj drama)

savon araeo - shotgun

kaelin ellis - heart

tuamie - grahams

kinrose - satellites

tobi - ego slide

cupcakke - nun nun

qveen herby - magic

megan thee stallion - worthy

again&again - west coast autumns

nothing,nowhere. - hydrangeas (ft. darcy baylis)

aurora - earthly delights

the marías - echo

ruru - liminal

night tapes - projections

april - burden

venus & the flytraps - frankenstein

anthony green - if i wasn't yours

pale waves - perfume

towa bird - deep cut

balance and composure - cross to bear

the early november - the magician

annabel - all time

ajj - death machine (bedrock take 2)

cursive - up and away

the aquabats! - the ballad of the shapeshifting pilgrim boy!

toro y moi - tuesday

homeshake - believe

abby holliday - couch comrade

kississippi - last time

trella - body language

air max '97 - keepsake

layzi - too high

elio - allofthat

billy lemos - chip away

teddie - say it

phem - donuts

yullola - animal of the night

niki - blue moon

lølø - suck it up

upsahl - summer so hot

mothica - red

lil aaron - misery loves company (feat. royal & the serpent)

cehryl - row row row

dora jar - timelapse

nep - pup

jack m. senff - whole heart

the decemberists - long white veil

katy kirby - headlights

gracie abrams - felt good about you

jahnah camille - roadkill

land of talk - magnetic hill - acoustic

superfan - everybody rides the carousel

bloomsday - bumper sticker

simone - any girl

ruby waters - numbers

luna shadows - bleach

niamh regan - record

sedona - baby run

stevie bill - girl

superfan - twilight living

paige stark - zombie brain drain

jahnah camille - roadkill

zolita - bloodstream

zealyn - she's coming over again (anxiety)

kevin atwater - star tripping (reimagined)

yumi nu - vines

buffchick - alright

illuminati hotties - didn't (feat. cavetown)

charly bliss - calling you out

queen of jeans - bitter pill

porches - itch

pony - freezer

the japanese house - :)

brye - grow together

[fishedeyelenz]

i think you have a second stalker bestie 💞💘 but obviously I'm still 1# Camille for Valentine's ask. 01, 07,09,16,17, and 18

hehehehe

01: Billy </3 depends on the timeline. in so give me coffee and tv she only recently met him, and isn't exactly in love with him yet, but sparks are flying. in rats in the shadows well... since late 1975...

07 is already answered!!

09: she's all about the small ways. little touches and massages, knowing looks, inside jokes, being comfortable enough to be gross around her partner... even billy's dumb little nicknames soothe her soul. She has also became accustomed to little tokens of appreciation, little gifts. Both receiving and giving.

16: just going somewhere to have fun and get cultured, but not too loud or anything. watching a movie ina cinema, or going to an art gallery or museum.

17: no, she needs in person interaction with them. she thinks a lot could be learned from a persons body language, which you couldn't see not in person. she also needs a physical component to any relationship, as her main love language is physical touch. she couldn't get that level of intimacy she wants trough somebody she doesn't physically interact with.

18: chubby people... not a deal breaker if you are not but definitely prefers softer people

[skibidimadness]

NAME: 30

NICKNAME: Tvkid

HEIGHT: 3"11 feet tall

ABILITIES: teleportation, speech(in reverse and other languages), projection of light, claws(really sharp), clones.

APPEARANCES: a mini version of tvman, but the leather coat their wearing doesn't fit them(maybe because they stole it) , some their appearance remain unknown due to their smoke covering them from head to toe, doesn't stop at all... lucky we can see their head as for their TV head looks normal but their back seems to have a few scratch marks including teeth marks, other tv units assume it was the skibidi but it could worse...

FACTS:

30 is the oldest out the group, and well and the quiet kid of the three small units...

Despite the shadowy smoke covering their body they can stop the smoke and spread it out to the point it looks almost like a fog, good escape plan but it's only for a short time due to their body is small and more fragile than the others.

Despite their fragile body, they seem to be able to pack a punch, but they don't need fist when they have claws, speaking of claws, those things can cut and tear metal off easily, poor speakermen had to go to the repairing station due to 30 nearly tear their driver off(middle part of the speakerhead)

30 body anatomy is a strange one, unlike the other TV units, 30 can't seem to teleport, well they CAN teleport but due to their body being small and fragile they are their body receives a malfunction, I guess that's why they build a gadget that's personally for them.

PERSONALITY: 30 is slighty rude, but thry are something else... their semi obedient that's one, and ominous like every tv unit, but their way of communication sounds more eerie than the others, I'm not sure how the human managed to communicate with them, if their always keep talking like... scientist and dr.[ERROR]. Like I said their like every unit, but for one warning don't make a deal with them.

RELATIONSHIP: 30 and Camille seem to get along they stay quiet as if they know how to talk telepathically, 30 also seems to be the one to drag Camille out of problems. DO NOT PUT 30 AND SPIKE TOGETHER AT ALL COST!!!

BACKSTORY:

ccbucbucbubcunecenuencudncxnucbuencsdxhrnxurhsjsufhxbtjshfhshffn jdnvjefnnfnjdvidnsinncunincednnicdn

[ERROR]

[SYSTEM HACKED]

hctiB....yrT eciN

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Four

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: draco opening his big mouth, some strong language

wc: 3183

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! tags below:

@slyth3rin-princess @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo​@morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @camille-1019

Chapter Four: Draught of the Living Dead

The strangest Christmas had to end with the strangest night, and no other night got much weirder than this. After you were done stargazing, you helped Draco clear away the mess before heading to your room for the night. You share a rather awkward goodnight before separating, and now you were staring at the spare clothes Draco had put out for you. It was just sweatpants and a jumper, but they belonged to him, and it felt wrong putting them on. At this point, however, your body had consumed enough alcohol and unhealthy snacks to last a lifetime, and bed sounded like a good option right now.

Slipping on the clothes, you could tell immediately that it wasn't cheap fabric. You crawled into the giant king-size bed, and the covers surround you as you sigh deeply, head hitting the pillow and eyes closing. Today had been long and full of surprises, and you were ending it in a spare bedroom inside Malfoy Manor. You open your eyes, your mind suddenly alive with thoughts, and see that it was snowing outside once again.

"Weirdest Christmas break ever," you mutter to yourself, watching the snowfall as your eyes grew heavier, and heavier.

When Boxing Day broke, you were up and in the same dress as yesterday when you followed your memory back to the drawing room. Draco was already awake, sitting with a book and a tray of tea. He looks up when you darken the doorway and smiles sheepishly.

"Morning," he says, his voice a little deeper from sleep, "you can help yourself."

"Morning," you repeat back, taking a seat on the couch opposite and pouring a cup. It was English Breakfast, just nice and simple to start the day. You hum as the warm substance coats your throat and tastes both earthy and refreshing.

"Sleep alright?" he asks you, continuing to read as he did.

"Yes, thanks," you say, placing the cup and saucer down, "I better be going soon though, mother will be worried if I don't get back."

He just nods slowly, fiddling with the page of his book and bouncing his leg. He seemed a little nervous, or off, and you didn't think staying much longer was a good idea. It was all a little too intimate towards the end of the night, and just thinking about to two of you stargazing and sharing life stories made you a little hot in the face. Perhaps he was feeling the same.

"Thanks for putting me up," you said, drinking the rest of the tea and slipping your coat on, "I had a nice time. I'll see you in a couple of days for the last potion?"

He closes his book and places it down on the coffee table, resting his elbows on his knees and smiling thinly across at you.

"No worries," he says, rubbing his hands together and looking elsewhere, "I had a good time too."

You smile, mostly to yourself, at how rubbish he is when it comes to conveying any kind of feeling.

"Good. Well, I'll be seeing you. Thanks again."

Getting up to leave, you take your bag and ready your wand, just getting past the doorway when you turn back to see he was staring ahead into the fire.

"Bye, Draco."

His head snaps towards you, clearly having been in a trance just now, and he stands, shoving his hands in pockets and rocking a little. So many nervous tendencies.

"Yeah, bye, Y/N. See you in a few days."

When you were gone, he relaxed his shoulders and felt tension leave his entire body. All night long he'd been thinking about how close you had gotten to seeing him, how easy it was to tell you things under the night sky like he'd known you his entire life. In a matter of days, you had gone from being a mere project partner to sharing a moment he wouldn't have with just anybody. Had it bothered him? Perhaps. Was he worried that you were becoming a constant and he didn't know how to deal with that? Definitely. Draco didn't have many of those, so the first sign of anything becoming more than a fleeting moment scared the living hell out of him.

Your mother wasn't exactly happy when you showed up at the door the next morning in the same dress. She gave you a long lecture about keeping her informed, no matter the time you should send her an owl with your whereabouts. She went on about how the Malfoy family weren't exactly golden, and that she isn't surprised their son had kept you out all night without letting your poor mother know what you were doing. You had tried to explain that nothing was out of the ordinary, you only stayed because it was late, and Draco was kind enough to lend you a bed for the night.

"Mother, I stayed in a separate room, three bedrooms away from his," you spelt out for the hundredth time, "we just hung out, that was it. Stop making a big deal out of it."

"You were gone all night and not a single word from you," she waved the spatula she was cooking eggs with right in your face, "what am I supposed to think? He's a young boy, after all."

You visibly cringe at what your mother was trying to imply, but as soon as you began justifying yourself again, she dismissed the conversation and told you to get changed. You were happy to.

After a much-needed shower, you brush through your hair at your vanity, an old polaroid of you and Hermione stuck in the corner of the frame catching your attention. You smile widely, taking it and looking at the captured memory. She was wearing Harry's Quidditch jumper, and you were wrapped up in a Gryffindor scarf after one of their victory matches, butterbeer bottles in your hands and arms around each other. You wonder what she'd say if she knew what you were doing last night, and you could hear her in your head.

"Malfoy?" she would say, "are you serious, Y/N? He's a total moron."

You laugh to yourself, placing the picture back in its rightful spot and putting your chin in your hand. Maybe you wanted to be Draco's friend. Maybe he was fun to be with last night and you'd like to do it again. Would it matter if you did? He's just a boy. There isn't anything stopping you from getting to know him, other than himself, which has proven to be difficult. One more potion and then you can go your separate ways and never speak again if you so wanted.

If only that thought didn't make you feel a little sad.

————————————

A day passed and you soon found yourself back in Draco's kitchen, stirring ingredients he was preparing into the cauldron. Upon your arrival it was him that greeted you at the door that morning and not the tiny house elf. He had also gone to the trouble of brewing tea and offering you leftover Christmas cake, which you nibbled on happily as you stirred. He seemed a bit more relaxed than when you left him on Boxing Day, but then again so were you. Perhaps you both just needed time to process that night.

"So," he starts to say, "did your mother murder you?"

"Well, if she did, she's done a bad job, hasn't she?" you joke, and Draco snorts quietly, "she gave me a long lecture about being out late and not owling her. That's about it."

"Was she mad that you were with me?"

You look up from the delicious Christmas cake to see he's chopping away at some Valerian root.

"No, not at all," you lie a little, knowing that your mother was mostly narked about the fact it was a Malfoy that had kept you out, despite it being her idea you go in the first place, "she was just annoyed because you're a boy."

"That I'm a boy?"

"Yeah, you know," you go on, popping some icing into your mouth, "all mothers are the same, as soon as a boy is in the equation, they immediately think something's going on."

Draco looked a little perplexed, but then the realisation hit him.

"Oh," he laughs, "she thinks we're a thing? That's hilarious."

"Hilarious?" you repeat, looking across at him sniggering to himself. His choice of words had started a little fire in your chest, and you needed him to explain what was so amusing.

"Don't you think so?" he continues, scooping up the Valerian root and adding it to the mixture. No, in a matter of fact you didn't find it funny. You had always thought yourself rather interesting if you were honest.

"No?" you say, sounding more like a question, "what's so funny about dating someone like me?"

He looks up at you over the cauldron, still smiling, and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Did I say that?"

"Well, you said it was hilarious to imagine so I just want to know how, exactly."

"You're taking it to heart," he says, waving a dismissive hand, "you know what I meant. We're just friends. Seems weird to think otherwise."

You huff in annoyance as he goes back to the chopping board to clean it. You watch him with narrowed eyes, and he feels it.

"What's wrong now?"

"You've dated girls like Parkinson," you go on, and hear him audibly sigh, "don't you think that is hilarious?"

"Look, just forget I said anything, alright?" he said agitatedly.

"No, actually," you say a little louder, gaining his attention from the sink, "I think I'm a rather good option, even if you don't."

He runs his hands through his hair and turns to face you fully, a look of exasperation on his face.

"What do you want me to say? Do you want a compliment?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back, "of course not, especially not from you."

"Then what?"

"Honesty," you cross your arms and stand up straight, knowing that this was about to get messy, and you were going to end up hurt, "what do you honestly think about me?"

He goes to argue with you, you could see that, but instead he bites his lip and lets out a deep sigh.

"I wouldn't go for you, no," he admits, but something doesn't feel right about what he's saying, and when you're face drops slightly, he wants to take it back, "we don't mix well, you know that. Besides, you're not like the other girls I've dated."

"What do you mean?" you push, feeling your palms get sweaty and heart heavy from the rejection you didn't know would bother you so much. He hesitates, looking for the right words and finding nothing. You stare at him with a hint of hurt.

"Well, you know, you're a lot more bookish," he shrugs, "and I go for girls that are more, I don't know, fun, I guess."

He immediately regrets that because you scoff lightly and turn away from him. He'd upset you, that was obvious. But he wasn't lying, you were different, and not in the way he was making it sound. Draco is just terrible when it comes to conversation.

"Right, I see," you say softly, going back to stirring, "my fault for asking."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," he started saying, but realised he was fighting a lost cause and instead went back to washing his cutting board, "you just take stuff way too seriously."

No answer, but the silence was deafening. Why did you have to ask him? You had a clear idea about what he was going to say. Wine talks for you, and besides, you didn't even like him like that. The two of you had just become friends, what would his opinion on your attractiveness mean to you?

A whole lot, apparently.

The rest of the afternoon went by slowly, taking it in turns to stir the mixture and write up notes. No more than four words had been exchanged between you since, but Draco was itching to get you to talk to him again. He felt so terribly guilty every time he looked at your face. Just a few days ago he was staring at you and drunkenly thinking how pretty you were up close, and then how nice the moonlight looked against your skin and how he wanted to see you more, and more and then he woke up feeling nauseous from the number of complicated feelings. Draco could barely look at you that morning, and he worried that you had noticed his strange behaviour, but you had no idea how much you had invaded his mind that night. It was sickening, in fact. He doesn't see you that way. He wants to be friends with you, and right now it felt like he'd blown his chances. Clearing his throat, you stop note taking to glance up at him sitting beside you.

"I get why you aren't talking to me," he says, and you could see how much his brain was working to make sure he didn't say anything to make it worse, "but I didn't mean to offend you. Whoever you end up with will be, uh, very lucky. Yeah. They will."

You raise your eyebrow, not looking entirely satisfied with his attempt at an apology. He tries to think of something else to say, anything to make this situation end, but you're still looking at him like he's completely missing the point.

"Are you still mad at me?" he tries asking, but you just sigh and close your notebook, swivelling in your chair to face him fully. He suddenly looks very nervous, like you're about to yell at him.

"No," you say, smiling lightly, "I guess I was asking for it. Don't feel bad for telling me the truth, I don't even know what I was expecting."

He looks a little relieved, and his shoulders slump slightly.

"Still buds?"

You giggle, and it makes him smile. How come he smiles when you giggle? Is that weird? Is this turning into something he can't handle? His neck starts to feel hot, but then you get up off your stool and stand before him, opening your arms wide and suddenly he can't breathe anymore.

"What are you doing?"

"We're friends," you say simply, "friends hug things out."

He's hesitant for a long moment, and you begin to look disheartened and start lowering your arms, but his mind is racing and all he can think to do is pull you in to avoid upsetting you again. You fall against him, arms wrapping around his neck and body flush with his. He rests his chin on your shoulder, tugging his arms around your waist and holding you there between his legs. It starts off a little awkward, but then he calms, letting out a deep breath and relaxing against you. You feel his body untense, his muscles aren't taught, and he seems... comfortable. You rest your head against his lightly, testing the waters, but he doesn't move away. In fact, you stay like that for longer than anticipated. Draco's jumper is soft, and you like being in his arms, but that thought soon makes your hands sweat and heart race and suddenly you're breaking away and he's looking at you, so close, his hands still on your waist and it's all so intense and the room is hot and you a become fumbling, stuttering mess.

"I just, uh, I need the um, the bathroom?"

"First door on the left," he directs, somewhere between scratching his neck, putting his hands in his pockets, and tugging his hair. You rush off, leaving him alone in the kitchen, shutting the bathroom door behind you as if he'd been chasing you down the hallway. Falling back against it, you catch your breath, heart slamming against your ribcage. It was just a friendly hug, you tell yourself, what on earth is wrong with you?

Draco leans back against the kitchen counter, feeling like someone had just sucked the air out of his lungs momentarily. Did he make you upset you again? Was him being comfortable making you uncomfortable? His mind is going in circles, thinking about how snug you fit against him and then vigorously shaking his head as if the thought will just tumble out of his ear. In the midst of his confusion, the most putrid smell starts invading his senses, and then he remembers.

"Shit, the potion," he practically sprints around the counter to the bubbling cauldron, peering inside to see a gloopy, grey mess occurring in place of your Draught of the Living Dead.

"Oh fuck," he curses under his breath, grabbing any utensil handy to scoop out the lumps of congealed goop. It smelt so horrid he pulled his jumper over his nose and continued to rid the potion of the mess, until it looked somewhat like it should. With a sigh of relief, he binned the disgusting clumps and goes back to stirring it. In the bathroom, you were patting your face dry after splashing yourself with water ten times to try and get your act together when you started to smell it. Almost skidding around the doorway to the kitchen, you see Draco attending to the potion with his nose covered.

"What is that smell?" you ask, gagging slightly the closer you got to the cauldron.

"We'd left it too long without checking," Draco mumbles through his jumper, "don't worry, I think I've saved what I could of it."

"Do you think it's okay to submit?" you pinch your nose to avoid smelling it.

"It's fine, I think," Draco mumbles again, "let's just bottle it and call it a day."

You gather a glass vial and hold it underneath the cauldron as Draco pours the substance in. There's still a faint smell of roasted ferret, but you both choose to ignore it. Once that was done and put away with the others, you both begin clearing away. This was the last time you had to see one another, anything after this was voluntary. You keep looking over at him scrubbing away at the cauldron, wishing you could get inside his head, just once.

He passes over your coat as you're packing your books away, and you thank him softly, pulling your arms through the sleeves and placing your bag on your shoulder. He walks you out, like he has before, and the giant Christmas tree is still lighting up the entryway when you head to the door for the last time.

"Well, this was better than I expected," you tell him, and he chuckles, "you're not a bad potion partner, Malfoy."

"Neither are you, Y/L/N," he plays along, leaning against the doorframe as you stand in the cold beyond it. There's a moment of silence where you just look at one another.

"I guess I'll see you at school?"

He nods slowly.

"See you at school."

You're almost down the steps and into the open, ready to apparate when he calls for you again.

"Y/N," you turn to see him stood in the huge doorway, shoving his hands into his pockets, "thanks. And have a good new year, yeah?"

You smile at him, small specks of snow falling onto your hair. He thinks it looks nice, you, standing in the snow, smiling at him like that. His mouth curls into a lopsided smile.

"Have a good new year, Draco."

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits​ 

[prettypiggytiffany]

Billy froze. His mind was spiraling, he could feel his head aching. This new situation was too much for his senses and his own mentality to handle, maybe he shouldn't have followed them

He took a few steps towards them, they could see him now. He was wearing his green turtleneck, bell bottoms, winter boots, gloves, and a tan scarf, his hair was in it usual style and looked quite messy. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, and he also had a psychotic look in his eyes.

"H-Home....?"

He murmured softly his own words fely foreign to his tounge, however I slightly gravelyness was in his voice at the moment as he took another step closer to Camile..

Tiffany's heart thumped hard against her chest as he stepped closer. He looked so tired, Tiffany wanted to hold him so badly, especially in a scary situation like this, obviously that wouldn't be the best idea, especially since he was 60% of the 'scary' in the scary situation.

She nodded at Billy's words. "She just wants to go home, Billy.." Tiffany repeated. Her voice was firm but gentle, her body language changing a bit as he stepped closer once again.

She didn't know what to do. Handling Billy alone in the sorority house was enough, but now in the open with someone else??

"She isn't trying to hurt us, Billy. she's a good person, okay?" Tiffany assured him. She was terrified, but her body reacted on its own as she stepped closer to Billy, her body infront of Camilles. They all still had a fair amount of distance though.