#if i was responsible id work on my reading over the weekend. or do more cleaning.

[orcelito]

I would like for life to stop hurting for a little while. Maybe. Pretty please.

[cleoluvrr]

The Last Days of Summer XIII (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 5.4k+

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Though I was used to not hearing from my brother for days at a time, it was odd to not hear a peep from Rafe. 

He had barely texted me over the past few days, short, vague texts sitting in my phone stating that he’s been “busy.” I didn’t ask what, assuming that it was family business and not wanting to intrude. I’d been busy myself, helping my parents with Heywards’s and preparing for college application season in just a few short months. 

It was a bittersweet feeling, wanting so badly to get off the island for so many years and finally having the opportunity to do so, yet having to leave behind a place you grew up in your whole life. Leaving your family, your friends; your home.

I’d been locked up in my room since the moment I got home, finishing up work before the long weekend started and enjoying the rare alone time I ever had in the house. My parents were having a date night and left me to my own devices, and Pope was gone as usual. The sun set a while ago, the moonlight shining through my curtains as I laid down in my bed wide awake. I count the pink heart stickers on the glowing on the ceiling mindlessly, listening to each steady breath that I take in and release.

I am startled out of my counting by the feeling of my phone vibrating next to me, the sound of the buzzing pulling my attention away from the glow-in-the-dark decorations. I feel around in the dark for the device and wrap my fingers around it loosely. The digital clock on my nightstand reads 9:56 PM in bright red numbers. 

Who could be calling me this late at night?

“Hello?” I say, not even bothering to check the caller ID before I answered. I hear an engine going in the background, the person on the end driving some sort of vehicle.

“Neriah..” A male voice answers. “What are you doing right now?”

My head jerks back at the sound of Rafe’s voice over the phone. Any feelings of irritation I had were replaced by both relief and curiosity.

“Rafe?” My tone is just as confused as I feel. “I’m at home, why?”

“Are you alone?” He asks.

“Yeah, my parents are gone until the morning. Rafe, are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer me for a few seconds, the only sound from his end coming from the car rather than his mouth. The silence only worries me more, face scrunching up at his non-response.

“Rafe.” I call out again. “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you sleepover at Tannyhil?” His voice is quiet and almost blends in with the humming of the engine. “Rose is gone and left Wheezie here, but I don’t wanna hang out with a kid all weekend.”

“You called me to ask if-” I start, cutting myself off once the realization hits. “Wait! You left your little sister home alone? Rafe, it’s almost ten o'clock!”

“She’ll be fine, we live behind a brick wall.” He says, brushing off my concern. “Can you please?”

I sigh heavily, looking at the clock again as I think about my answer. It’s not like my parents would really care, and they couldn’t stop me if they did because they aren’t home. Normal people my age spend their weekends out with friends partying and drinking their lives away, while I sit in the dark of my room doing nothing in my freetime. Even Pope hasn’t touched his own bed in two days. 

I think about my outright refusal to spend the weekend alone with him at one of the Cameron’s empty properties. I only said no because I didn’t want to do something…out of character, but if Wheezie is there, I doubt anything we do will be more than PG. 

What’s the harm, really? I get uninterrupted time with my boyfriend without having to worry about being caught by anyone.

“Okay…” I finally answer, trying my best to sound reluctant so he doesn’t think I gave in so easily. “But no funny business.” He chuckles at me and I’m sure he’s smiling behind the phone.

“I’ll be there in, like, ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” I say in confusion. “What are you doing on this side of town so late?”

“To pick you up.”

“What if I said no?” I stand out of my bed and switch the light on. I walk to my closet and grab a small suitcase from the back corner.

“I would’ve convinced you, one way or another.” He answers vaguely. I don’t ask what he means. “See you soon.” And with that he hangs up, leaving me in silence.

I toss my own phone onto the bed and fling open the suitcase, not even sure what to bring. I’ve always been a chronic overpacker, though I’m not sure if it’s because of my clothing addiction or my anxiety of forgetting something that I might need. I picked out a few outfits fitting for the warm, early fall weather, sleep clothes, and enough pairs of underwear to fill a victoria’s secret because my mother taught me that you can never bring too many.

As I’m shoving my makeup and skincare into a smaller bag, I hear a car pull up outside. It honks twice and I cringe at the loud sound that has probably disrupted someone’s sleep. I thank God that I’m alone. I slip an inconspicuous, black hoodie over my head, my pink biker shorts peeking out of the bottom of the oversized item of clothing.

I almost trip over myself shoving my shoes onto my feet, rushing as the owner of the vehicle blares the horn another two times.

I storm out of the house with my bags in hand, locking the door behind me. I left a note on the table for my parents to see when they got back, not wanting to bother them while they’re out tonight. Parked outside my house is Rafe’s familiar truck, the blonde inside distracted with his phone. I yank open the back door of the car, startling him as I toss my luggage on the floor of the backseat.

“Damn, you can’t knock?” Rafe says jokingly as I climb into the passenger’s seat next to him.

“My bad.” I buckle my seatbelt and set my phone down in the cup holder in the center console.

“I missed you.” He leans over the console and pecks my lips sweetly. The action gives me butterflies, leaving me smiling shyly when he pulls away. “So much.”

The engine turns over and the car pulls off into the darkness of the night. The car is playing music from the town’s radio station, the noise filling the silence in the air. Rafe drives with one hand, the other one occupying the space on my thigh. He taps along to the beat of the song, the feeling ticklish against my skin.

I shoot Pope a text as we arrive at Tannyhill to let him know that I’m going to be gone for the weekend, not specifying where.. Rafe pulls my bags out of the backseat once the truck is parked, insisting on carrying them into the house for me. I follow him inside, in awe of the size of the colonial styled home. He instructs me to stay downstairs before he makes his way upstairs with my belongings in hand. 

I walk around the first floor, feeling slightly out of place in the residence. Other than the extreme display of wealth, it felt strange to be inside a dead man’s house. 

I spot the kitchen not too far away and make my way towards it. The house is dead silent and dim, I’d think it was empty if I didn’t know Rafe and his sister were here.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice, forcing the yelp threatening to escape my mouth back down. I whip around to face the source of the sound and am met with a young brunette girl. My heart beats steady again at the sight of Rafe’s youngest sister.

“Oh my God, Wheezie. You scared me.” I say, slapping my hand on my forehead as I let out a light laugh.

I’d tutored the girl in the past, recommended to Rose by one of the parents at her stepdaughter’s school. She was a nice girl, very intelligent for her age. She’d taken a liking to me and was upset when I told her that I wouldn’t have time to tutor her anymore at the end of the school year, right before summer started.

“Riah?” Her brows shoot into her hairline, surprised to see my face when I turned to face her. She walks up to me and wraps her short arms around my body. I’m surprised by the action, I didn’t know she felt that comfortable with me. “It’s you!”

“It’s me!” I repeat, hesitantly returning the hug. 

“What are you doing here?” She says as she pulls away from me. She wears a puzzled expression on her face.

“Go away, Wheeze.” Rafe says as he comes into the kitchen. “Stop bothering my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” The girl looks between Rafe and I with an incredulous look on her face before they finally land on me. “You’re here with him? Willingly?”

I throw my head back at her genuine disbelief, the sound of my laughter filling the air. Rafe rolls his eyes at her, walking to the fridge and grabbing two bottles of water. 

“Yes, I’m here with him. Willingly is a stretch, though.” I responded jokingly.

“Bye, Wheezie.” Rafe says, grabbing my hand and pulling me upstairs to his bedroom.

I was met with pale green walls covered in miscellaneous picture frames and a King sized bed in the center of the room. The comforters and pillow cases were a matching shade of a deep red, one similar to the color of red velvet cake. 

He barely sits down on the bed with me before his phone rings. The young man groans, kissing me on the forehead before he snatches his phone out of his pocket and steps out of the room. He shuts the door, leaving me alone in his space. I take a gander round the room with my eyes, noting the surprising tidiness of it, at least for someone like him. It was a rarity to see a guy his age have a made bed and visible floor.

After almost an hour of sitting in his room alone and scrolling through my phone, I hear voices outside. I knit my eyebrows together in confusion, getting up to press my ear against the door. I hear two male voices, one Rafe’s, and a woman that isn’t Rose. I open the door just a crack, peeking out into the empty hall before slipping out. The voices are coming from downstairs, but I can’t see anything from where I stand over the railing. 

“Look, lady. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hear Rafe’s voice say in the distance, sounding mildly annoyed with whoever he’s speaking to. “There is no ‘Island Room’ here.”

“Oh, but I think there is.” The woman says. “I know there is; and you’re going to help me find it.”

Rafe sighs heavily and the air is filled with silence for a long moment. I thought that they had left at that point, assuming Rafe turned them away. That is until I hear multiple sets of footsteps enter the residence.

“Thank you very much. I knew you’d let me in.” The woman says. ”Come on, Renfield. We have no time to waste.”

I lean over the railing a bit more, catching a glimpse of three people walking through the foyer. Rafe, a brunette man, and a nicely dressed blonde woman being supported by crutches. I lean back with a quickness when a floorboard beneath my foot creaks under my weight, the man I assumed is named Renfield whipping his head in my direction as they walk beneath the stairs.

“Did you hear that?” He asks suspiciously,

“It’s an old house. It makes noises.” Rafe replies annoyedly. “Can somewhere explain to me what the ‘Island Room’ is supposed to be? I don’t really have time for this.”

“Who are those people?” Wheezie pops up behind me again suddenly. 

“Oh my God, Wheezie, stop doing that!” I whisper harshly, whipping around to face the younger girl. “Do I need to buy you a bell?” She chuckles lightly, moving to stand next to me and peek over the rail as well. 

“Sorry.” She says, turning her head to look at me sheepishly. “Who was Rafe talking to?”

“I have no idea. Some lady came to the door talking about an ‘Island Room.” She hums at me, nodding her head as she looks back over the railing.

“Hm. Wanna go follow them?” She asks.

“You are so nosy, Wheezie.” I say jokingly, nudging the girl on her shoulder. “No, I don’t, but knock yourself out.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, quiet feet making their way to the staircase.

I shake my head at the girl as I watch her silently descend down the steps, smiling softly to myself. I retreat to Rafe’s bedroom once again, shutting the door behind me before flopping down on his bed. I grab my phone from its spot on the bed, sending Rafe a curious text asking who was downstairs with him.

I waited five minutes, then fifteen, then an hour. I could hear nothing from the room, the time passing by silently as I watched the clock going further into the night.

After the clock went from twelve to four, I decided it was time for me to follow after Wheezie and check on what the group was doing downstairs. I stuff my phone into the hoodie of my jacket and jump off the bed, silently opening the door once again and stepping out into the hall. I descend the stairs, following the sounds of the voices. The house was so big and I had no idea where I was going, I might as well be relying on echolocation. 

I pass the kitchen and catch a flash of pink moving around in the corner of my eye. I froze in my spot, backtracking to the room I was in a few hours ago before Rafe all but dragged me out. I watch Rose at the sink, leaning over the metal bowl looking quite stressed. Puzzled, I continue on quietly and quickly, not wanting the woman to notice my presence.

What is she doing here? Rafe said Rose was out of town, and her car wasn’t in the front when we pulled up. I didn’t hear anyone pull in either, not that I would be able to anyway from this deep in the house.

“Maybe she came back early…” I say quietly to myself as I travel further down the hall.

At some point I found the three of them in one of the bedrooms on the first floor and stood in the open doorway, bewildered. The room was practically torn apart, no crevice left unchecked by both Rafe and the Renfield man. The blonde woman was instructing them to look harder, watching them work from a corner she made herself comfortable in.

I stood there for a while, watching them go over the room two more times before they finally gave up. I guess that I made a noise because the blonde woman looks in my direction with a sharp eye. Rafe turns to look too, his irritated expression melting away when he sees me. I look between the three of them in confusion and back away from the door as the blonde woman makes her way towards me.

“And who might you be?” She tilts her head at me curiously, crutches planted firmly on the floor in front of me. “You look very familiar…”

“Neriah, baby, what are you doing down here?” Rafe moves around the lady to grab my hand.

“You’ve been gone forever and haven’t answered any of my texts.” I answer, not taking my eyes off the woman. She doesn’t look familiar to me at all.

She studies my face for a while, the hall filled with nothing but silence as we stare at each other. I raise my eyebrows at her, cutting my eyes at Rafe as he watches the non-verbal interaction between the two of us. Suddenly the woman gasps, a bright smile appearing on her face out of nowhere. Her eyes light up as she looks at me which only manages to make me more uncomfortable.

“Neriah Heyward!” She says excitedly. I back away from her, leaning into Rafe when she takes another step towards me. I look up at my boyfriend, silently expressing my discomfort with him before facing the older woman again.

“I don’t think I know you…” I trail off. The woman shakes her head, laughing at my worry and clear hesitation to talk to her.

“Oh, but I know you. Academic accomplishments seem to run in the family.” She smiles warmly at me, but something about it just didn’t seem right. “I interviewed your brother, Pope, for a scholarship just a few weeks ago. You were also a potential candidate.”

The realization comes to me almost immediately and it takes everything in me not to make a face at the woman.

This must be the lady my brother went to see down in Charleston, the one that he claims tried to kidnap him. It also hits me that Pope wasn’t just having a mental break and was probably telling the truth about Denmark Tanny being related to us. The woman being here and mentioning her association with my brother only proves it further.

“Oh! That’s cool…” I reply awkwardly, unsure of how I should interact with the woman.

“You come from a very special family, Ms. Heyward.” The smile that stretches across her face makes me itch, my stomach churning at the sight. I hum, nodding at her and giving a tightlipped smile.

A thousand thoughts run through my head at what she could possibly mean by that.

“Baby, go back upstairs. I don’t think I’ll be done for a while.” Rafe speaks up and interrupts the conversation. I silently thank him, ripping my eyes away from the off-putting woman and setting them on the hovering blonde next to me.

“Why’d you say Rose was out of town? I just saw her in the kitchen.” I threw the question at him and he clearly wasn’t expecting it, head jerking back in confusion.

“I never said she was out of town, I said she was gone.” He clarifies. “I guess she’s back.” He shrugs.

“Rafe-”

“Just go back upstairs, please.” He cuts me off. 

“No.” I pulled my hand away from his, crossing my arms together as I looked up at him annoyedly. “You’ve been gone for like, hours, and you aren't answering my texts even though you clearly see me messaging you. What the hell are y’all doing down here?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose at my blatant refusal and lets out a deep sigh of frustration. He excuses himself from the two older adults before grabbing my arm, dragging me to the stairs despite my resistance. He says nothing as he guides me, my defiance being met with his silence. 

He manages to get me up the stairs with much struggle as I fight against his pulling. 

“Get off me.” I wrench my arm away when we reach the top of the staircase, shoving the boy away from me roughly.

“Go in the room, Neriah.” Irritation drips from his voice now, clearly not in the mood to deal with my attitude. I scoff at him, feet planted firmly into the wooden floor. “I really don’t have time for this right now. At all.”

“I don’t care, Rafe, that’s not really my problem.” I snip at him. 

“Okay. So what the fuck is your problem, then?” My head recoils at his language choice, the force behind the words something I wasn’t used to hearing directed at me.

It’s not like he hasn’t cursed around me or at me before, in fact he’s done much worse than that. But I can’t remember the last time he’s spoken to me so aggressively.

“My problem is that you brought me here to hang out with you, but I’ve been all alone in your room for hours while you dick around with some random, old people.”

“We can hang out tomorrow. It’s not a big deal.” He grabs my arms again, pulling me in the direction of the closed door leading to his room. “I’ll come back when I’m finished.”

“No, Rafe-”

“I’m not in the mood for your attitude, Neriah. Just going inside.” I plant my feet firmly into the ground when he swings the door open.

He curses silently to himself, head raised to the ceiling as I resist his efforts once again. His eyes fall on my frame, beyond irritated with me. The grip on my arm tightens, his other hand grabbing the arm not in his hold. He pulls me into the room with great force, shoving me onto the bed when I lose my balance. He shuts the door behind him, pushing me back down when I try to stand once again.

What the hell is his problem? What right does he have to be in the mood for something?

“Move-” I start, my words cut off by Rafe grabbing my jaw and forcing me to look at him. His face is hard and mildly angry, eyes dark as they stare into mine. 

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude right now. You can be mad at me all you want, but you do not speak to me like that in front of anyone. Do you understand me?”He grits out. I flinch at his words but any movement is stopped by his grip on my face. I nod slowly after a moment, my defiant spark put out as quickly as it was lit.

You would think the girl that cursed at him not even two minutes ago was a different person, my demeanor taking a complete one-eighty in just a split second. 

I could feel his fingers digging into my cheeks, the skin pressed up against my teeth uncomfortably. He looks more than a bit vexed, and if he wasn’t busy with the blonde lady and her tool downstairs I’m sure that he’d be dealing with me instead. I can see it on his face.

He releases my face once I respond, standing up straight to his full height. He hovers over me closely, jaw tense as he watches me pout at him. I avoid his eyes, folding my arms across my chest as I stare at the closed door behind him. He exhales loudly and I can practically hear him roll his eyes at my childishness.

“Look at me. I won’t say it again.” I tilt my head up at him, tearing my eyes away from the door. My jaw was just as hard as his, silently fuming as he angles his head down at me. “You can pout all you want, I don’t care. I’m going back downstairs, and you’re gonna stay in here. You’re going to go to bed, or play on your phone, or be miserable. I don’t really care what you do, but you aren’t gonna leave this room.”

“How are you gonna tell me what I’m going to do?”

“Neriah.” His eyes are just as sharp as my name in his mouth. “I just said I’m not going to deal with your attitude right now. You don’t have to like it, but that’s what you’re going to do.”

“Who exactly do you think you are, Rafe?” I push myself up off the bed and follow behind him as he approaches the door. “No, I don’t like it. And no, I’m not going to do anything, because you don’t fucking direct me. I’m an adult, and you aren’t my father. You’re not gonna tell me what the fuck I’m gonna do as if that’s not for me to decide.” I poke into his chest with my index finger at the end of each sentence, the force behind it barely enough to sway him but enough to get my point across.

What right does he have to be mad at me? He’s the one that left me to rot away in his room all night after dragging me out of my own home in the middle of the night. I could have stayed there if I knew this is what he’d be doing. 

He smacks my hand away, shoving me hard enough that I stumble backwards. He rubs at his chin with his hand, looking between me and the open door. He shakes his head and drops his hands from his face, stepping out of the room silently. He just stands there for a moment, watching me. He finally speaks after our anger fueled staring contest goes on for what seems like an eternity.

“Go to fucking bed, Neriah. I’m not going to argue with you, because I don’t care right now.” He leaves the room fully, closing the door behind him as he leaves. “So fucking childish…” Is the last thing I hear him say before he walks away.

I resist the urge to follow after him, everything in my body screaming at me to tear into him.

I listen to his footsteps descend the staircase on the other side of the wooden slab separating the two of us, teeth gritted together as I’m left silently seething in his bedroom. Instead, I huff loudly, sitting down on the edge of the bed behind me.

I guess I fell asleep shortly after that because suddenly the sun was high in the sky, light peeking through the open blinds of the window behind the bed. I don’t remember lying down, and I definitely don’t remember wrapping myself in a thick, black throw blanket either. 

I sit up straight, stretching and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I look around the room in confusion. It took me a second to remember where I was, the unfamiliar room slowly becoming more familiar as I woke up. I immediately start feeling around for my phone, the device lost somewhere in the maze of pillows behind my head. 

“Jesus Christ…” I whisper to myself when I find the device. The three numbers on the screen read 1:27. It was well past morning at this point, half of my day unknowingly slept away. I enter my passcode and click on the missed text message from earlier this morning.

RC: You were asleep when I checked on you

RC: I’m going out, it’s important. I’ll be back later.

RC: I love you.

I roll my eyes and stuff the phone into my pocket, throwing the blanket off my body and standing up out of the bed. I quietly pad to the door and yank it open to reveal an empty hallway and a quiet house. I descend the staircase to search for any signs of life but am met with nothing as I peruse around the first floor of the residence. Both Rafe and Rose’s cars are gone from the front yard, only further proving that I was alone in the house.

“Wheezie!” I called out, almost forgetting about the youngest Cameron child. I roam around a while longer downstairs, calling out again before moving back up to the second floor after receiving no response.

The old house groaned as I walked through, the wood expanding as the heat of the fall sun glaring down onto it. I checked every room and was met with nothing every time which only puzzled me further. Where could the girl go without a car?

“Maybe she’s outside…” I thought to myself.

As I reach the end of the hall, I spot one of the doors slightly cracked open. I approach it curiously, my footsteps careful and quiet. Pushing it open completely, I cautiously enter the space and am met with a great mess.

The wallpaper has been ripped off the walls, the blue patterned paper now littering the floor beneath my feet as I journey further into the room. There was a large wooden table in the center covered in a tea set, clearly only there for decoration. There was a medium-sized hole in the wall next to the window as well, but none of this grabbed my attention.

What did spark my interest was what has been uncovered.

I circle around the table, eyes glued to the exact replica of Kildare island painted on the four walls surrounding me. The paint faded only slightly, but was otherwise perfectly preserved. It looks old, like it was a part of the original Tannyhill before renovations. Trailing my fingers along the wall, I study every part of the painting closet with great curiosity.

Was this the Island Room? Is this what that lady came here looking for? It had to be, it looked like they ripped the wallpaper off and left with great urgency, not even bothering to clean up behind themselves.

I trace the shape of the large oak tree in the center of the painting, eyes trained on the keyhole at the top of the trunk. Angel Oak.

I am ripped out of my trance by the sound of a car pulling up to the house. I briskly walk to the window and pull the curtain back, immediately dropping it and backing away when I spot who has arrived. Five familiar teens pile out of Twinkie, John B’s run down, brown van, and rush to the entrance of the house. Sarah leads the other four, turning back to talk to them as she walks.

“Shit.” I whisper.

I speed walk around the table, paper crumpling under my feet as I step over it. I hear the Pogues walk through the front door, voices loud as they enter the first floor of the house. I journey to Rafe’s room as quickly as I can, barely making it before I hear the five of them running up the stairs. I shut his bedroom door and lock it, backing away silently as their voices get closer and closer.

“This place still freaks me out.” I hear in passing, John B’s voice distant as they walk further down the hall.

I sit down on the bed, quiet as a mouse with my brother and his friends just down the hall. My heart races and blood rushes to my head, the sound of waves filling my ears as the fear of getting caught washes over me. I hear them talking over each other, the jumbled mess of words hard for me to decipher from this far away and behind a closed door.

More panic filled my body when I realized that Rafe and those old people could come back at any time. If the Pogues were here when he got back, nothing good would happen between them. However, I couldn’t go out and warn them, not without risking exposure myself. 

Before I could think any more about it, I heard their voices rushing out of what I assume was the Island Room, footsteps pounding against the floor as they ran through the hall. I don’t move an inch until I hear the car door outside slam, the vehicle speeding off of the property with all five kids inside. 

What the hell were they doing here? And what were they doing in that room?

It is Sarah’s house, but from what I’ve gathered over the past few weeks, she’d rather die than step foot in this place. So why would she bring anyone else here with her? And why was everyone so interested in the newly discovered room just a few yards away.

I shake the thoughts out of my head, laying back down on the soft bed.

Whatever these people have going on is none of my business, and even if it is, I won’t involve myself in it. I refuse to take part in whatever has gotten my brother kidnapped by that white lady running around with my boyfriend. Thinking about the way she smiled at me when she realized who I was gives me goosebumps and an unsettled feeling in my stomach.

[noisytenant]

my mother's physical abuse of me has gotten a lot worse, but then we inexplicably had a very nice weekend together and it makes me feel like i can't trust my own senses regarding her. i dont even hate her, i just need to be away from her. i had a couple bags packed and was ready to move several states away to be with my boyfriend (whose family had agreed to shelter me) but then they dropped out abruptly when they realized they couldnt afford to add an extra person to their household. im stuck and i feel very overwhelmed and i wish that the fastest possible solution had actually worked bc the longer i stay the more i feel my will to leave depleting. and what's worse is that i do have a lot of extended family in town but i dont think i can go to them on the offchance that they won't believe me/i dont wanna deepen the rift between my mom and them bc we still see each other every sunday... and quite frankly for that reason running to one of them wouldnt really be an escape bc we all live within a square mile of each other. im deeply conflicted and overwhelmed bc i know by leaving id hurt and scare a lot of people who dont deserve it, but at the same time i never want anyone to make me feel that worthless again. especially not my mother. being choked by your own mother is an existential nightmare for me in the truest sense of the word. i do have a backup plan with another good friend of mine, but it's going to take a lot longer, and i feel insanely overwhelmed and hurt. thank you for listening in advance

sorry to hear that, you're certainly in a difficult situation...

i didn't specify this before so you had no way of knowing, but in the future please ask before sending anons about heavy abuse/physical violence, because it can be triggering for me. i'm alright and feel okay about responding to you, i just wanted to set a precedent for the future. i think most bloggers would similarly appreciate a heads-up.

my longer response below the cut...

please take everything i say with a grain of salt. i'm just sharing the things that come to mind. i don't have extensive personal experience with the situation you're describing, so what i'm saying is based on observation, reading, etc. i'm not an expert and i can't really take responsibility for anything that comes from listening to me. i'm trying to be as thoughtful as i can here, but i may have blind spots. use your best judgment.

anyways...

abuse comes in phases, and it's really common for abusers to turn and become very nice for a moment. that doesn't negate the ways they hurt you and threaten your physical and emotional safety.

when you get distance from the abusers in your life, you realize that kindness without the threat of abuse is abundant. it hurts deeply to realize that someone you want to rely on for warmth and care isn't providing that without complementary pain, but time and distance allows you to grieve that and reconcile it in whatever way is best for you.

--

it seems like you're exploring a few avenues of escape, so i hope one of them pans out in the near future. waiting for change to come is the worst. believe that it'll be worth it in the end.

it's hard to open up to extended family. it seems like everyone's very close--maybe not on good terms, but seeing each other weekly is very high-contact. i can understand worrying about "rocking the boat".

that being said, you may be able to seek more closeness with some people, and get a vibe check on their perceptions of physical abuse, their ability to keep secrets, etc. if there's even one person you can open up to, it might help. maybe they can't house you, but they can let you sleep over if you have a bad night + can promise to keep your location a secret. every resource counts.

and if you think someone's trustworthy, and you open up to them, and they decide they want distance from your mother, that's their decision. basically, you don't need to shield your mother from the consequences of her own actions by remaining silent about your experiences. though if you think she will retaliate against you for it, exercise caution.

it can be hard to maintain hope, but i think reminding yourself of what you're working toward (physical and emotional safety, growth, peace) can help you sustain the will to leave. nobody deserves to feel, like you said, worthless. nobody deserves to be physically abused.

even if your mother becomes extremely kind for a few days, a week, or longer, i think you should trust that getting distance is important and necessary. as abusers push their warped perspective of the world onto you, they make it hard to see yourself and to think clearly. distance can lift the fog.

--

"i know my leaving will hurt and scare a lot of people who don't deserve it"... i do wonder if this is strictly the case. perhaps there are ways you can communicate your circumstances to the people that matter most to you while maintaining safety. and a lot of people are more understanding and patient than you might expect. i have little doubt you're trying to prevent collateral as much as possible. this is admirable, but don't overdo it.

i would encourage you to be okay with upsetting some people while you're doing what you need to survive and thrive. people may be hurt, confused, or scared in the moment, but i think people generally ought to consider good-faith reasons why something unexpected or hurtful would occur. and you may be surprised by the compassionate and thoughtful ways people respond when they learn of what's happening and why you left. being upset over one hurtful thing is very different than being upset because of repeated patterns of violence and abuse.

--

Another consideration for the moment, while you're still with her... I want to be really, really careful with my words here, because I don't know enough about your situation, and things that can protect someone in one situation can escalate or worsen things in others. But I did want to say, I think you have the right to defend yourself, physically and verbally.

Exercising these rights is sometimes safe and other times not, so use your best judgment. But I think sometimes we can feel helpless and forget our protective capacities. This is dependent a lot on things like your size and physical ability, but you may be able to do things like block your body, pull hands off you, or just walk/run away so as to escape further harm.

Maintain the goal of ending the interaction while minimizing injury. Self-defense doesn't need to be complicated martial arts maneuvers. It's your posture, words, and actions combined.

There are a lot of different self-defense strategies, from the pacifistic to "defense through offense". I wish I could tell you how to identify the perfect de-escalation and defense strategy, but I can't. Even people who study this stuff for a living don't have the perfect formula. Know that any effort is noble.

Anyways. In some circumstances, defending yourself gets people to think twice before trying to hurt you. Trying different ways of fighting back may allow you to gain back some control in your situation. But be careful, because sometimes it makes things worse.

I want to reiterate that you should assess your situation, and that I can't take responsibility for whatever happens. But I wanted to say this, as someone who sometimes "freezes" when feeling threatened. Sometimes just knowing you have the capacity to defend yourself, even when not exercising it, can help you stay grounded in the present.

--

If nothing else, trying to reclaim your emotional reality in your private thoughts can help you to get through the difficult times. "I don't deserve to be treated like this and I am doing what I can to change things for the better." Try not to let her wear down your innate understanding that you deserve safety and respect.

Good luck with it all </3

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay i am feeling a little overwhelmed by the volume of stuff i have to do and learn and read!! i think that what’s making it more challenging is that i don’t have a good mental schema yet to hold all these disparate tasks & pieces of advice & bits of information that are flooding in, so it’s hard to know where to put stuff or how to prioritize certain tasks over others.

here are my big urgent priorities, which i am defining to mean “stuff that needs to happen in the next 2-3 work days”:

i need to closely read & take notes on these two position descriptions we’re hiring for so i can have an informed conversation with the other hiring manager early next week. however, I don’t have that meeting until wednesday, so i am shifting this task to tuesday after the holiday.

i need to read my student worker’s job description and do some thinking about how i want to approach our first expectations-setting meeting together. i’m sensing there is going to be a tricky balance here - it seems like the student role has been treated very casually as there hasn’t really been one direct supervisor in place... but also people have made some offhanded comments about the student that make it seem like there are some reliability/followthrough/communication issues that probably need to be addressed. i need to read the job description closely, gather some more information from the coworker who was informally supervising her, and then figure out how i want to structure our first meeting next tues. i think i can save some of this for tues morning, but might want to take advantage of my coworker being in the office today to have an information-gathering conversation with her where i ask some more specific questions about the issues people have mentioned & get her thoughts on how/when to address them with the student. so today’s task: have that conversation and take some notes for myself so i can let the question simmer in the back of my mind over the long weekend. tuesday morning’s task: read the job description & think about whether i want that first meeting to incorporate an expectations-setting thing of some kind (maybe using some of alison green’s AMA stuff).

i need to create some way to track & map the names of people i’ve met so far or been told i should connect with. i think this will tentatively take the form of a freeform board (for now), since the post-it option will let me easily record & cluster names in a mind-map board. that said, i don’t want to get sidetracked into putting a lot of information into the board right now, as i think i could easily lose a whole day or more on that. so today i will limit myself to JUST adding the names, a one-sentence description, and a note about whether i’ve scheduled a meeting with them yet. i think i would like to set a timer and spend 30 min max on this.

i need to read the long onboarding document they created for me so i can figure out whether there are additional things i should be thinking about or doing. this also has a more detailed description of my primary responsibilities, which will be helpful for building that mental schema. some tasks on the list will be little practical to-dos, like register for benefits or get my ID card photo taken. others will be more substantive, like sit down and do some journaling to consolidate my understanding of my role & what my first 3-6 months will look like. i think that to keep myself from getting sucked into the journaling work (which could also easily swallow an entire day), i want to skim through the document first and pull out ONLY the concrete to-dos (trainings i have to complete, benefits enrollment stuff i have to do, practical tasks). THEN i want to read through 

we have this gigantic messy sharepoint folder that has tons and tons of info relevant to my job, but is not organized in a way that i find especially intuitive. i do NOT want to get sucked into reading stuff today because there are so many files in there and not all of that info is immediately relevant. i think that what i’d like to do today is just a VERY deliberately surface-level skim of the folders, where i don’t let myself actually read any documents in-depth but just look at first pages of stuff and make a list of folders or files that seem like they’ll be useful to read in greater depth. once i’ve created that list, i want to figure out how to organize it (maybe ordering the entire thing in order of priority or relevance, so i have a list of stuff to steadily work through during my downtime, or maybe loosely grouping stuff by theme/category so i have a better sense of where information is when i need to access it later on.

at the end of the day, i want to take about 15-30 minutes to check on my list, jot down possible priorities for monday (though i don’t have to set my agenda just yet), and record any priorities that are not immediate (next 2-3 work days) but should be shorter-term (next couple weeks).

i think that these tasks will easily take up the entire day! my number one obstacle is: i know that as i work through this list i will feel a VERY strong impulse to delve more deeply into individual items and lose myself in the highly enjoyable work of reading, researching, reflective journaling, etc. however, i want to remind myself that i will have lots of time for that later, and at this stage it’s much more important for me to build out the skeleton infrastructure of this job in my mind so i can start fitting pieces of information into it. to combat that tendency, i will keep a catch-all notebook page or document to the side where i can write down threads i want to follow later or questions as they come up. that way i can feel sure that i’ll remember those things i want to explore later, but i don’t have to actually dive into them right now. 

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 264: Thursday September 21, 2023 - "Afternoons with Dad"

I try hard to make the afternoons with Dad active and memorable and not just running out the clock until bath time, and today I got a shock that really made me consider why that was so important.

With these new week day chops, I tell myself its not that its going to be easier than those weekend days, just different cadence. Instead of a full Saturday and Sunday Ive got to fill up right, I am going to be responsible for mornings and afternoons before and after a trip to the Montessori School. A new routine to build - a new plan to make.

Today he was all smiles after school pickup. He enjoyed wearing his new cars shirt and his new shoes to cruise in. Today, his fourth at school with no diaper, he had a successful potty and was sure to tell me that he felt he deserved a big truck for that accomplishment. I didnt have a big truck, but I did have a new puzzle of all the planets. We sat in the great room and worked on it together, learning each planet as places he could go visit in his rocket ship. He then wanted to bring it in his rocket ship seat as if it was a roadmap. Well played. I pointed out Earth - 'we live here' - our neighborhood. Soon, he was telling me pee was coming, and I wondered if it was to try to see what else might be in the prize closet. Unfortunately though, there are no more potty prizes to collect. He's aced it. He continues to work on getting his pants down on his own, but other than he's all about "William do it" - when he resolved to there being no more potty prize, he changed tact - "orange popsicle. big" - ok, that I can do. He's earned it. I love how he is at just the right height now where when he stands next to me, his head and long hair are right at my hand where i can rub his head and pull it into my leg as he hugs me and I tell him he's doing a really good job.

As the afternoon temps dropped, we ventured out to the driveway to play with the cars on the pavement, and shoot off rockets as high as we could. Over and over and over again, from red, yellow, blue - he'd run in a circle counting down from five and then plant perfectly on the launch button, pushing the rocket ship up towards the moon (or at least 10-12 feet). I let him do this for as long as it was fun for him - if he wanted to do this until bath time, I would have been all for it. Fun for both of us. For dinner we hit the store to get weekend provisions, and a quick trip to Bdubs, before home to watch football, play with trucks. William said he wanted hot dog and french fries, and so I pulled that together for him, using french fries with smiley faces that he really liked. As bath time neared, he was bored with football and came up to me perfectly calm and said "watch firebuds please." Turns out maybe potty training isn't the only muscle we've been building. I was happy to oblige. He crawled up on me and rewarded my compliance with cuddles. It was the best part of my day. I turned on a couple episodes of Firebuds to wind down the night then we did a clingy bath time and an easy bed time in which I read a Halloween wheels on the bus, then Little Blue Truck's Halloween, and finishing with a soothing quiet reading of Goodnight Moon. 10 minutes later he'd be asleep and Id be sneaking out. Success.

Its not a full weekend day like I am used to, but still so important. Important connection time that he'll remember what it looked like, especially as the blocks build day in and day out on these coming months. And he reminded me today why it was important.

When we were leaving to go to the store, he was saying something I couldnt understand, a pretty common deciphering puzzle game these past couple weeks as his confidence in his language blooms faster than his ability to pull the right phrase together. Whatever it was, it sounded like Mookie Betts. Over and over again. So I said "what do you know about Mookie Betts. Did you know he plays for the Dodgers?" William looked at me confused - obviously Mookie Betts was not the intended topic of conversation. "Do you remember going to see the Dodgers?" I asked, and William confidently responded with a "yes" - the the normal "i-dont-know-what-you're-talking-about-Yes" that we very often hear. I said Oh! do you remember who we saw the Dodgers with? and he caught me way off guard when he said "Chad!" and then doubled down with the fact that he "got a bobble guy to bring home" which were all true facts. Out of the Dodger blue from 3 months ago. No prompts, or help or any recent reminders. When I told Audrie that night on facetime, her jaw dropped. "Its all in there" she said- but to hear him recall that with such good memory for something that we didn't make a real big deal out of at the time, really brought home that everything we're doing right now counts. He's remembering. He's feeling. He's experiencing, and he's wiring. All those times I push through the exhaustion or the stress or the anxiety to show up and do good, its all going in there. These random Thursday afternoons, are just as important as any time. "hey remember that time we fired rockets off in the driveway?" or rode the train at the zoo, or let you eat your own pizza slice at mod pizza? I wonder what all is in there that he can recall and what else will surprise me. I assumed that this day would be out in the future some time when he would start remembering and pulling the dots together, but I guess that day is now and I am so glad I don't have to worry about what I might be doing to mess it up.... i am so happy to hear that he is remembering these days and these fun experiences we do. Its good motivation to keep up this important good work of being a solid, tired dad.

Song: Ugly Kid Joe - Cats In The Cradle

Quote: “There is no scent of nostalgia like a fragrance drawn from the garden of childhood memories.” ― Aloo Denish

[amrsyoon]

harry potter rp req !!

looking to do a drarry rp :]

looking for:

• ideally drarry but we can talk about it since i’d just be happy to do any cc bxb pairing. i don’t have any particular plot in mind, id prefer to play harry, but im flexible and would love to figure it out together!! ☆

• i’m okay with any aus, i don’t have any limits. i’m a big fan of romance & angst, so any trope is fine with me! ^^ ☆

• SEMI-IMPORTANT NOTE: i have only watched the films and am currently starting the book series, so my knowledge on everything is not super strong, and i ask that you please excuse me for that !! i’m actively researching and learning more :]

i felt comfortable starting an rp because i’m confident in my knowledge, so give me a chance :]

more info !!

∘ as for myself, i am 17 and would like to rp with someone within my age range (16-18), any older/younger will have to be discussed with me personally, but there would be a few limits set in place!! ;; ☆

∘ i am american — PST

∘ i am a student in high school, meaning my schedule is pretty packed throughout the week and may interrupt my weekend. i would like to say you can get 3-5 replies a day, probably many more if im free, but it can vary greatly. sometimes, you may not get a response for a couple of days, but its not personal! i am just very busy, but i will try and communicate if you’d like me to. i hope you understand!!

∘ like i said, nsfw is okay. i don’t have any limits regarding that. dark / morally grey characters are okay, too, but i’d like for there to be some sort of romantic connection !! <3 ++ if we do reach that point, i am definitely a switch/sub leaning. but i cannot play a dom full time for the life of me …

∘ i’ve been rping for years now so i’d say my writing is pretty good.. i can write anywhere from a semi/adv lit, maybe more!! id like for my partner to be able to write the same, and i will not reply to one liners!!!

∘ i communicate primarily through DISCORD, so if we’re gonna rp, i really do prefer we do it over there! :]<3

— if you have any questions regarding this introduction, let me know!

i was purposefully a little vague, but i tried to be as clear as i was comfortable with!! i’d love to meet new people, so if we won’t work out as partners, i hope we can be friends!! im always open to talk about interests and little things.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !!

[ocean-anchored]

continued... December 13, 2023

Yesterday was the office trivia which we needed more people so I had also invited him expecting him to not say yes so quickly but he did! I offered to pick him up cause I knew he lived DT and he also said yes again & gave me his number. He was really friendly, he did engage & ask questions which I liked. Trivia was fun even though both of us barley contributed. Shane, Kamber, Amber, Naythan, Nick, Ali, Troy & i. It was a fun night, I got to know Troy better and we had a good brief chat on the way home about church and trying to connect with people. I can't read him too well but I mean, who says yes to a NYE night & a trivia night so quickly if they don't want to connect? Idk. I'm certainly not getting my hopes up & keeping it causal. I've been thinking about thanking him again for picking up my tab (even tho it was a server error) but I remember Daniel telling me about some reasons why Troy & his ex broke up so I thought about saying thank you & gently putting it out there that Id buy him a beer whenever he's free, I don't want to come across too much at first here though so Ill give it a bit of time. Who knows, I guess we'll find out over time and we'll see what NYE brings. Yesterday, was 2 weeks since I last spoke to Zack, I've been doing good not thinking about him much & not caring. I almost got past thinking that he'd reach out again but he did. Texted me asking if he could explain what happened & that he doesn't deserve it but had to try. I haven't responded. I don't plan to. He really fucked me up and really does not deserve to talk to me again. I'm happier without him. I need to move on and I can't get sucked back in, that's so damn toxic and honestly I don't care. I'm SURE he was high again when we were talking at some point over that weekend and that Monday night so I don't need an explanation, I know what he's going to say, it's always the same shit and I'm over it. Oh and Connor, yea also tried of that shit. I'm so tired of being an option and inconsistency. We talked a bit after the last time I saw him and then his last text back was again just giving me nothing to work off, he's such a shitty texter so my response was somewhat cut off I know he didn't have anything to comment back other than if he asked how im doing which he didnt so I left it. It was a couple days, till my IG got hacked & he texted me, again which we exchanged very few words and gave me nothing so I thought Id asked how his week was cause I knew he was off those days. went back & forth like one or two more times but again still just fuck all so I didn't bother responding, then he did text me the next night when I went to Shanes christmas party & again few exchanges back, I knew he was close to his time off so we talked about him having the next two weeks off and then he said "well have to hang again soon" which I commented back "ya let me know when if you'd like to" along with another little text acknowledging his plans for his time off & of course no response like fuck me. then last night texts about the knights game with literally like 3 words and an emoji so I gave him nothing back, it's pathetic and I'm not going to engage in being someone to entertain someone while they're bored. Gosh men are so fucking annoying and lazy and non committal. I swear I might really just be single for a long ass time. Anyways, that's the last week or so. I'm really thankful for Amber & Naythan, it will be really nice to spend the holidays with them and I hope to continue focusing on myself and putting myself first.

[extremetimedchallengeexchange]

We had 71 people fill out the interest check (thank you very much) and we’re happy to announce that we’re definitely going to go ahead with both exchanges! 

MCYT Exchange will be the weekend of March 17-20 (exact date TBD)

Multifandom Exchange will be June 24-26. 

More nitty-gritty under the cut!

[ID: Large text reading “LET’S GO, Interest Check Complete”, against a background of an asian woman biting nervously on a pencil while she sits in front of a laptop. The text “extreme timed exchange” is in the corner of the image. ]

[ID: The question: Extreme timed gift exchange? You in? (This is a gut-interest check, the nitty-gritty details are available in the next segment. it has been answered 71 times, with the answers overwhelmingly being “Yes”, no “No”, and one vote each for “IF I FINISH MY BELATED NORMALLY TIMED TECHNO EXCHANGE STUFF,” “really depends on when and how my personal life is lookin,” “curious but not in the mcyt fandom,” “idk,” and “Extremely interested, just unsure if I can particpate. Depends mostly on the pro...”]

[ID: The question: With the rules as above, would you be interested in participating? It has been answered 71 times, mostly positive, with 3 votes for No.]

The overal response was overwhelmingly positive! We had one person write in asking for a lower word count (300, to bring this exchange in line with other “flash” exchanges, which seems reasonable), someone wanted all the prompts available from the beginning, not at the 24 hour mark, and one person take exception with several aspects of the organization, namely how we were doing the tags and the requirements for the prompts. 

We should mention here that the requirement for the Gen prompt is only going to apply for the mcyt exchange, because shipping is still an ongoing discussion within the fandom, and the multi-fandom exchange is just going to have the requirement for the art and fic prompt, and the “any” prompt. (We know that one is hard, but a) we don’t have time to find a lot of initial pinch hitters if we don’t succeed in matches, b) it is a challenge exchange, and that also applies to the prompts.)

Someone also suggested a post or discord channel allowing people to coordinate the seconding on tags, which is an excellent idea! We will definitely encourage planning and coordination to make sure everyone is on the same page with tags and to encourage collaboration. 

[ID: the question: And yes, we said we were interested in running this twice. Once open to all of mcyt fans, and once as a multi-fandom. Are you interested in joining? The answers are 35.2% “I want to join the mcyt exchange”, 21.1% “I want to join the multi-fandom exchange”, “39.4% “I want to join both exchanges”, no votes for “Neither of those sound good to me”, and one vote each for “I would only potentially interested in the multi-fandom one but possibly neit...” “Both would be awesome but I’m not super branched out in the MCYT com...” and “depends on the fandom”.]

We had a healthy amount of interest in both exchanges! Posting the interest check in some multi-fandom spaces probably brought some more interest in that side of the plan, but even when we were just circulating on the dash with the mcyt followers, it turns out we all have many fandoms. 

Yu-gi-oh and Star Trek were both mentioned by name, so maybe keep an eye out for those fandoms...

[ID: the question: Is there a 48-hour period in the next six months that would work espeically well for you? Easter weekend, St Patrick’s Day, any time after just 1st, etc?. It has been answered 39 times. ]

Oh boy, this one made me break out the calendar for real. It was surprising to realize that I had put St Patrick’s on there mostly so I had three options, and then to realize it actually was the most-voted-for date, with 11 people naming or indicating it. We will probably put up a poll (once we have polls) to decide if the exchange is kicking off on Friday the 17th or Saturday the 18th, but after much crunching with a spreadsheet and the notes app, the most-voted-for dates are:

MCYT Exchange will be the weekend of March 17-20 (exact date TBD)

Multifandom Exchange will be June 24-26.

[ID: the question: If we go for it, do you want to be pinged? If so, leave us a contact info and a note about which exchange you’re interested in.  It has been answered 42 times.]

We have people interested in the exchange! For real! Leaving-their-email-addresses real! High five everybody!

[ID: the question: Questions or concerns or random factoids for the mods? It has been answered 29 times.]

We have been answering questions as they come in here on the blog (check the FAQ tag for details), so here is just a highlight overview of the answers. 

[ID, four screenshots reading, in order: -SMASHES A CAN OF UNSWEETENED GREEN TEA AGAINST MY HEAD AND SHOTGUNS. LET’S FUCKING GOOOO. -ever since last time when certain individuals wrote 10k+ fics in the time frame, i have been afflicted with brainworms DESPERATE to try something insane like that. it’s just not the same when I write 10k in a weekend on my own. -last time this happened i did 9k in one day This event sounds like it will ruin 48 hours of my life and I have never wanted to do anything more.]

Let me tell you I (mod medusa) have already written 3.5k of information for the FAQ and have a couple times woken up dreaming of tag sets. I’m so excited about this. St Patrick’s Day Weekend can’t come soon enough and also is way too soon I have so much to do. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

More than just a game

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, oral, fingering, doxxing, stalking, and other explicit content. 

This is dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a new gaming buddy but he sees you as more than that.

Note: So this is my first Jake Jensen fic and it was lots of fun so let me know what you think and hope you enjoy. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Special shout-out to @navybrat817​ for helping me with this idea

After too many nights scrolling through subreddits and searching for something to keep you distracted, you decided to bite the hook. Several other redditors agreed to hop on Minecraft and it had been a while since you logged in. You missed the almost relaxing ritual of mining and building.

You joined the chat, quick to hit the little microphone emblem as you listened to the voices in your headset. You learned long ago to keep your mic muted on the servers, especially with strangers. The last time you dared to speak up as a woman in a game chat, your DMs had become so overwhelmed you deleted and started a new account on Discord and changed your ID on Steam.

You were all given your tasks as players called out coordinates and you kept to chopping up the side of a mountain. You mostly worked alone, chatting through text instead of voice chat. As you placed a crafting table in your little mine, another player, JJ-Smooth, popped up and dropped some iron for you. 

He stayed close but you didn’t mind. A lot of players tried to work together the deeper they got and you were used to it. As you uncovered some lava, he dumped water before you could get burned and helped you hack up the obsidian. 

He thanked you on the voice chat but you knew any courtesy in return would earn you the attention of the entire server. So you dropped some gold for him and went on your way.

“I hear a zombie,” he warned.

You turned to hack up the undead before it could get you, only to be shot by a skeleton hidden on the next level. Another appeared and you died before you could hide, the bony villain killed by your ally as you watched your possession scatter over the death screen.

“Hey, I got your stuff,” he said as you loaded back up, “I’ll find you.”

You typed quickly in the chat, ‘sorry, mic busted, give me your coordinates and I’ll come to you.’

You waited as ‘JJ-Smooth is typing…’ appeared at the bottom and finally he sent the numbers. You hopped over the blocky hills and through the forests until you found the mine again. He was just outside and handed over all your tools and ration. He headed back into the mine and you followed him. This time, you began your own path in the opposite direction.

Before you knew it, you’d lost track of time. You sat back as you realised it was only you and JJ on the server. The silence should have tipped you off earlier. He was the host and you felt super awkward for staying so long. You typed that you were logging off for the night and thanked him. 

You hit the keyboard with your knuckle and yawned as you opened the screen, 

“God, it’s late,” you muttered.

“Hello?” he said.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at the mic symbol and the lack of red line made you cringe. You’d hit an extra button without noticing.

“Um, hi, sorry, I just--”

“Mic busted, huh?” he asked.

“No, I--” you didn’t know what to say, “anyways, I should--”

“So, you’re a chick? Is that why you mute?”

“Uh, well, it’s just… easier, sorry, I--” even if you weren’t trying to hide from gamer dudes, you weren’t the best at conversation.

“A gamer girl, nice,” he said and you sighed, “sorry, that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you touched your bottom lip as you cupped your chin, “it’s late, I have to work tomorrow.”

“You comin’ back?” he asked, almost hopeful.

“I don’t know--”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, “promise, lips sealed.”

“I really don’t know if I can do this too much, I usually work early mornings so… yeah,” you said.

“I get it but you know you’re always welcome, hope you don’t mind if I send you an invite now and then. No pressure,” he offered.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, “okay, yeah, good night.”

You left the chat quickly and pulled off your headset. Shit.

‘I’m Jake by the way,’ a pm popped up, ‘gg.’

You typed back, ‘gg, it was fun’ and quickly logged out. You sat back and rubbed your eyes. Well, he didn’t seem like a total creep, maybe just a bit awkward but so were you. You shut down for the night and stretched out as you switched off the lamp. You were going to pay for your session in the morning.

🎮

A few nights later you got an invite to the server. You debated it but as it was Friday, you decided to make good use of the PC you’d saved up forever to build. You spawned in the middle of nowhere and built a bed before you found the half-finished settlement. You joined the chat but you must have been early as you were the only one there.

You headed back to the same mine, some work done since the first night, and laid your torches as you ventured into the depths. You jumped in your seat as a voice broke your peace.

“I don’t think anyone else is gonna join,” JJ-Smooth, or Jensen said, “you think maybe you’ll unmute?”

You stopped your mining and stared at the screen. You hovered over the mic button and re-read his name, he was the only other one there. You clicked and gave a strained smile to the screen.

“So, um, what’s the goal tonight?” you asked.

“Get some materials and go back to the settlement, keep building, oh, maybe we could try a portal, you ever gone to the nether?” he said but before you could reply he kept on, “shit, I shouldn’t assume, you seem like an experienced player.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m more a casual miner,” you went back to harvesting stone and ore.

“Ah,” he said, and it was silent for a moment, “so, you work again in the morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” you said as you focused on the game, “daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

“A daycare, huh? That sounds fun, I love kids… not in a weird way but you know, I… urgh, I have a niece,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “nah, that’s cool though, sounds more fun than my gig.”

“Oh?” you turned and kept your axe moving.

“IT. You know, some people would be like ‘hey Jensen, why do you spend all your free time staring at a screen when that’s what you do at work?’” he scoffed, “well, who says I’m not mining there too.”

You wrinkled your forehead and gave a small laugh. He was rambling and it was kinda odd. You were happy for once not to be the strange one.

“But anyway,” he said, “I found lots of diamond over here. If we get some lapis lazuli we can build an enchanting table and get some sick armour.”

“Awesome,” you pressed your fingertips to your lip as you leaned on your elbow, “should try to head back before dark…”

“Hard to tell down here. How about you mine and I’ll keep an eye out for monsters?” he offered.

“Sure,” you agreed as he came onto your screen, “that works.”

🎮

Another week went by and you ventured back into the server a few times but not for very long as late nights did not mix with young children. The next weekend, you joined again on Saturday night and like the last few times it was just you and Jensen. You wondered why no one else was joining when the subreddit was so popular but you didn’t worry about it for long.

You mostly played in silence, Jensen did most of the talking and it was never about anything more than the game or his niece’s last soccer game. That night when you left the game, he kept typing on Discord.

‘I like playing with you,’ his message blipped up.

‘Same, thx.’

‘Really, you’re awesome.’

‘Thx :) Tired, gotta sleep.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Night.’

You changed your status to offline and dragged yourself to bed. You opened your phone as you laid in the dark and went to the subreddit, you scrolled through the builds and screenshots of other people’s catastrophes. 

You came to Jensen’s last invite post from that night but all the comments complained that the world code was incorrect. Hmm, you should tell him next time.

You blackened your cell and plopped it on your night table. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, the light still etched into your vision. You fell asleep quickly and woke the next day to another invite from Jensen.

‘How about some Fortnite? If you’re into it?’

‘Srry, can’t, my mom’s expecting me for lunch.’

‘2 bad, maybe later.’

‘Maybe’.

You got ready to go see your mother for your usual Sunday afternoon visit and it went by like any other. When she asked you what you’d been up to, you didn’t mention the gaming, she was never a fan of it. When you got back home, Jensen was messaging you again. You didn’t open the notification and settled in to catch up on some streaming before another week of work.

Monday hit you like a train and you were glad you hadn’t spent the night mining again. If you had, you doubted you’d even be able to open your eyes. You got to the daycare centre and welcomed in the kids. You got them set up for the morning snack then cleaned up as Sandy took them over to the reading circle.

You wiped the tables and then did some painting before you went out for some play time in the yard. As you watched several of the children on the swings, you glanced around. There was a man across the street. You squinted through the chain link as he seemed to be watching but assured yourself it was nothing as he quickly headed for the corner and disappeared.

Inside, the kids were due for quiet time, some napped and those who didn’t, stared at the ceiling and yawned. You could have joined them but knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. The end of the day came and you helped the kids pack up their paintings and their sweaters. You waited in the yard with them as the parents showed up and handed them off one by one.

You waved to Danika as she clung to her mother and your eye was once more drawn beyond the chain link. The same faded grey jacket, the same glasses, and the hat with the frayed brim. It was a better look at the man. Was he looking at you? Why on earth was he hanging around outside a daycare?

“Sandy,” you turned and lowered your voice as she neared, “see that man?”

She peeked over and shrugged, “which one? The guy crossing the street?”

You looked up again and like before, he was walking away casually as if he hadn’t just been staring through the fence. You shook your head and huffed. “Sorry, never mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she waved her fingers, “come on, let’s clean up.”

With the kids all sorted out, you went back in and tidied up the last of their mess. You and Sandy were friendly but like with any, you weren’t very talkative. You never really knew what to say but you were never unkind.

You pulled on your jacket and checked your purse for your phone and wallet. You checked the time and turned off the lights. You bid Sandy goodbye as she headed for her SUV and you took your usual route down the sidewalk towards your bus stop. 

You stopped short as the man was there. You were paranoid, he must just be waiting for the same route. You approached and he turned to watch you as you sat on the bench. He smiled and the dread sank deep in your chest. 

His rectangular glasses gave light to his blue eyes and a goatee trimmed his jaw. He was tall and well-built, you could tell even under his comic book tee. He was going to talk to you, another weirdo in the city.

“Hey,” his voice was chillingly familiar, “how was your day?”

You stared at him and blinked cluelessly. You looked around, it was only the two of you. You opened your mouth but you had to be wrong. He said your name and you winced.

“Jensen?” you breathed as you stood and squeezed the strap of your bag, “why? How--?”

“You weren’t answering me, I was worried,” he said, “just making sure you’re okay.”

“What the-- I don’t understand how--” He stepped closer and you backed up against the bench. “Don’t, I’ll scream.”

“Scream? Why? I’m just-- You know me, it’s me, Jensen.”

“You doxxed me?” you snapped, “what the hell?”

“No, I didn’t-- I’m just checking on you--”

“I don’t know you,” you said as your heart began to race, “so please, leave me alone,” you edged away from him, “and don’t message me again.”

You sprinted across the street and as you came up on the curb, you looked back at him. He watched you but didn’t follow. You could tell from there he wasn’t happy but the brim of his cap shadowed most of his face so you couldn’t guess if it was hurt or anger. You quickly spun away and continued down the next street to the nearest stop.

You couldn’t believe he’d just shown up like that. You couldn’t believe he would think that was okay. You couldn’t believe he’d think that much about you.

🎮

You blocked Jensen on Discord and left his world on Minecraft. That night you were shaky and nervous, afraid that he would show up at your apartment. Did he know where you lived? He must if he could figure out where you worked.

You didn’t open Steam that night. You paced your small apartment, jumping at every noise. Sleep didn’t come easily but in shallow spurts that left you even more tired. You watched over your shoulder as you walked to your stop and boarded with one eye on the door.

Work was little better as you found yourself distracted in the room full of toddlers. Sandy asked if you were okay as you kneaded play-do violently. You shook yourself out of your paranoia and assured her you were only short on sleep, not a complete lie.

You took out your phone when you stepped out for a small break. Your mom had called but you would have to get back to her when you had two hours to waste. There was another notification, that one from Discord, a friend request from JJ-NoRematch. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was and you declined it right away.

There were several others from Jensen, too. He followed your Insta, blocked; he followed your mostly empty twitter, blocked; and he even commented on your LinkedIn like a weird. You closed your phone and took a breath before you headed back into the kids, their voices rising in their excitement to go outside.

In the yard, you had another look around, expecting to see him there on the other side of the fence. You were slightly relieved when he wasn’t but still on edge. You joined a game of tag then watched several of the kids line up for the slide. You lost yourself in your job as you told yourself he must have gotten the hint, at least not to bother you irl.

Just like the day before, and every day, you left work and headed for your stop. He wasn’t there either and you sat down and phoned your mom, hanging up as the bus pulled up with a promise to call her again when you were home. At home, you felt almost normal again and checked your notifications; no more follows, no more requests, nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday passed in a similar fashion. Each saw your anxieties less than the day before. You even resolved to open Steam and start a new world for yourself. You spent hours mining and almost fell asleep in your chair. When you nearly tipped over, you decided it was time for bed.

You slept better than you had all week and woke up before noon. You wanted to log right back on but you had life to deal with; groceries, cleaning, and of course, making that call to your mother you’d delayed the night before. After all that, you felt accomplished and you decided to treat yourself to take out, a rare divulgence.

You called the local Chinese eatery and waited eagerly for your feast as you turned on a new episode of your current binge. You played on your phone until the battery was low and had enough juice to buzz up the delivery man. You dug for your wallet as you went to the door and unlocked it without looking up.

“How much--” you asked as you opened the door.

Your eyes met a familiar pair, two blue gems behind a pair of narrow glasses. Jensen wore the same cap and held the paper bag of take-out with a smile. You grabbed the door and tried to swing it shut but he was too quick as he slapped a large hand against the peeling paint.

“It’s on me,” he said, “I love spare ribs.”

“What the--” you gasped as you pushed on the door helplessly, “please go away.”

“You’re not answering me,” he said as he stepped closer and forced you back as his body brushed against yours, “you blocked me and I can’t even get a hey, Jensen, how are you?”

“I don’t want you here,” you tried to shove him and he shouldered you away easily, “get out!”

He slammed the door and you flinched. He put the bag down on the corner table and reached back to twist the lock without a look. His eyes roved around your entryway and further into your apartment. He smiled as they stilled and focused on you.

“This place is cute… like you,” he said and you heard a slight hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed and backed away from him. You spun on your heel and ran for your couch. You reached over the back to your phone and unlocked it as the battery icon flashed. You had just enough juice to make the call. You dialed as you turned back to him.

“I’m calling the police so you b-better l-leave,” you warned as your voice and hands shook, “I me--”

He was quick and before you could pull away, he swiped your cell out of your hand. He scoffed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and landed screen down on the hardwood. You bit down and pressed yourself to the couch. You stared at him and kicked yourself forward as you tried to slip past him. He caught you and wrestled you back into the front room.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly as you struggled in his grasp, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“N-no, you’re-- you-- let me go,” you stammered as he angled you around the couch. He pushed you down so you bounced on the cushion. You tried to push yourself up and he pointed his finger in your face and wagged it. 

“No, you stay,” he growled and wiped his other hand on his jeans. He was nervous, even if he was angry.

“Please, why-- what do you want?” you grasped the cushion and hovered at the edge of the couch.

He sighed and sat in the chair. He took his hat off and set it on the table as he ran his fingers through his short hair. 

“Good question,” he said as his jaw squared and his eyes turned to pinpoints, “better one, why did you block me?”

“Are you serious? You-- you--” you struggled to get your words out, your voice even more splintered by your fear, “you doxxed me, you came to-- to my work-- and…”

“I thought we were getting along. I thought you liked me,” he said with a frown, “I really did, you sure acted like it and-- I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“But why wouldn’t I be? I--” you shivered and crossed your arms as you withered beneath his gaze, “Jensen, this was only supposed to be online.”

He scoffed and stomped his boot on the floor. He shook his head as he looked to the ceiling and his anger bulged along his temple. He tilted his head and looked at you again.

“You know, for years, I have been a nice guy, I am a nice guy,” he pushed his shoulders to his ears as he threw his hand out, “I’m so patient and caring and you girls, you don’t even give me a second look.”

“Jensen--”

“No, really, I mean look at you, you’re no supermodel and yet it’s the same thing, ‘let’s just be friends’,” he spat, “but I watch guys all the time treat women like shit and they don’t have any trouble at all, they got them hanging off of them and I’m a creep for giving them a compliment or opening the door--”

“I don’t… know you,” you eked out, “you have to understand--”

“I don’t understand,” he stood abruptly, “I’m done trying to understand.”

He pulled his jacket open and slid it down his arms. You watched him sling it over the chair and as he turned back to you, you stood. He caught your shoulders and held you in place. His strength was plain in his grip as he squeezed then slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.

“I just wanna be nice,” he said as he leaned in. You tried to pull away but he moved a hand around the back of your head and forced your lips against his. He poked his tongue inside your mouth roughly as you tried to shove him away. Finally, he parted, his hands still firmly around your head, “wasn’t that nice?”

“Please,” you begged as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

His eyes searched your face as you stared back at him in terror. He sighed and dropped his hands back to your shoulders. He pushed you down to the sofa harshly and backed away.

“Fine, I won’t be nice,” he snarled as he took his glasses off and folded them carefully. He put them on the table beside his cap and twined his fingers together, loudly cracking his knuckles.

You blinked at him as your eyes grew glossy. You brought your legs up under you and pressed yourself to the back of the couch. You grasped the upholstery and turned as you launched yourself over to the other side. You stumbled as you landed on your feet and ran for the door.

You were yanked back as he snaked his arms around you and took you off your feet. You kicked out and screamed but it was cut off by his palm as he kept one arm around your middle. You scratched at his hand as he dragged you back to the couch. He pushed you face down onto the cushions and planted his knee in the middle of your back, slipping his hand away as he put enough weight on you to keep your voice suffocated.

“Listen, I know I look like some IT nerd but I’m a lot more than that, now don’t make me hurt you,” he played with your hair as he smiled down at you, “you try that again and I will shut you up and if someone hears you, I can take care of them too.”

You sniffed as tears pricked in your eyes and nodded frantically as it felt as if he would snap your spine. He pushed off of you and you stayed as you were, paralysed with fear. He sat and unlaced his boots one at a time. He looked up as he set them neatly beside the foot of the chair and he bent to catch your eye.

“Well?” he pointed at you and traced the line of your body in the air, “let’s go.”

You stared at him dumbly and he stood to pull his tee over his head. His torso was sculpted perfectly and his chest trimmed with hair that trailed all the way down to his pants. He stepped forward and tugged at the back of your shirt.

“You want me to do it for you, baby?” he purred, “I can help you.”

You swatted him away and sat up. You bent your legs to your chest and hugged them. “Please, I’m scared, just leave me alone--”

His hand rested on his belt and exhaled again. His fingers moved swiftly to unloop the striped belt and unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them. He stood in his boxers, tented with his impatient excitement, and gripped his hips.

“It’s okay, baby, I know you’re shy, I am too,” he neared and you winced as he grabbed your wrist. He tugged on your arm and you resisted until he bent your hand back painfully and you cried out. He tickled your jaw as he looked you in the eye and tutted, “it doesn’t have to be like this, alright?”

You went limp and let him pull your arms apart. Your legs slipped down and your feet dangled above the floor. He got to his knees and pushed between yours. He slowly rolled up the hem of your shirt and bent to kiss your stomach as he bared the flesh. You trembled as he forced your arms up and swooped the fabric over your head. It fluttered through the air and to the floor as he cupped your tits through your bright pink bra.

“Is this so bad?” he asked as he nuzzled your chest and pushed your tits up. 

He glided the straps down your arm and slid your bra lower so that you popped out. He nibbled at your flesh and traced your nipples with his tongue. You sat rigid and let him explore your body, too terrified to move a muscle. He reached around you and struggled with the hooks, frustrated he snapped the clasps and the band came free.

He continued to play with your chest, his fingers crawling up and down your stomach and sides. There was a genuine curiosity to his touch and it sent a chill through you. His fingertips pressed to the top of your pants and he pulled at them as his lips travelled down to your hip.

He tugged on your pants and jerked your entire body. He tore them lower as he pushed you up and you lifted yourself to let him peel away the layer. He added them to the floor and toyed with the elastic of your panties. The little bow in the front drew his attention as he pushed your legs wider and ran his nose along the cotton.

He hummed and rubbed his fingers down your crotch, pushing the fabric to your folds as he teased you through them. You inhaled sharply at the tingle it inspired and he pressed firmer against you, flicking his fingers along your bud as he noticed how it made you squirm.

He gently pulled aside the cotton and you felt his hot breath against you. You pushed on his head before he could delve into you. “Please, don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he threw your hand away from his head and bent over you, “just relax.”

He dragged his tongue along your cunt and lingered around your clit. You clenched as it sent a thrill through you and he moved his lips against you, suckling at you bud as your breaths grew raspy. You pushed yourself against the back of the couch and dug your nails into the cushion.

He slid a finger along your cunt and circled your entrance. He rubbed up and down as he kept his tongue swirling over your clit and you swallowed back as gasp as he poked inside. He felt around and added another finger, stretching you as he carefully pushed them in and out of you in time with his mouth.

He lapped you up and you closed your eyes, desperate to resist the coil winding within you. Your legs tensed against the couch and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He sped up, the noise of his mouth and your slickness filled the silence. You let out a puff and moaned as you slapped the couch. The waves rolled over your flesh and you came into his mouth with a pathetic mewl.

He stilled his fingers as he lazily teased you with his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and sat back, the heat between your legs cooling in his absence as he licked up your juices. He watched you as he sucked his fingers and stood. Your head lolled and you edged forward on the couch. You tried to stand but he caught you and flung you back.

“We’re not done, baby,” he winked at you as he grasped the top of his boxers, “go on, lay down.”

You murmured your refusal and once more tried to get up. You slipped onto the floor and shakily crawled away as he dropped his boxers to his ankle. He grabbed you before you could get around the side and lifted you easily. He turned you and shoved you down onto your back as he lifted a leg over you.

He straddled you and again his hands roved over your body. You smacked at his fingers weakly but he easily ignored you. He kept one hand moving along your curves as he stroked himself with the other. He groaned and shook as he stroked his dick. Your eyes followed his hand and you gulped, he was thick.

He moved his knees back and pushed them up beneath your thighs as he kept a hand planted on your chest. He ripped your panties down your legs and untangled them from your feet. 

He held you down as he ran his tip along your cunt, wetting himself with your coerced arousal. You groaned and grabbed the arm of the couch above you. You tried to pull away from him.

He pushed against your entrance and you looked at him in shock. You couldn’t stop him. His eyes were set between your legs as he inhaled and slowly eased into you. He gasped as he got his tip inside you and his muscles tensed. He bit his lip as he dove further in and you gasped as he filled you inch by inch.

“Shitttt,” he moaned as he reached his limit and you whined at how full you were, “oh, baby.”

His hand slid from your chest and he gripped your hips as he pulled back and thrust. You exclaimed and he did it again, slowly as he watched himself impale you over and over. You curled your fingers against the couch arm and your feet arch as you pressed your thighs around him. He lifted your pelvis high as he angled his dick even deeper.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, “oh, baby, you’re so good. Ahh-hh-hh,” his voice fizzled as your walls clenched him and you closed your eyes as you felt the heat building. 

He moved his hand along your thigh and stretched it over your pelvis, pushing his thumb to your clit as he kept his pace. He purred as you writhed helplessly against him and you panted through the rising ecstasy.

“Please, please, please…” you chanted, unsure if you were begging him to stop or for more.

He moaned as he sped up and you sucked your lip under your teeth as you neared your peak. You quivered as your orgasm crashed into you and you let out a strangled cry. He snarled and planted his hands beside your head as he leaned over you, his hot breath tickled your face as he pounded into you.

Your legs bent around him as his pelvis rubbed against you and the friction drove you to another climax. You held onto the arm of the couch as he fucked your harder and harder. He kissed you and nibbled at your lip as he groaned and hooked an arm under to hold you close.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he said against your cheek and you turned your head away from, “ah, here I--”

He spasmed and slammed into you. He took several long thrusts and stilled. He grunted and drew heavy breaths as he rested his weight over you. He grabbed your head and turned your head up as he pressed his forehead to yours. You kept your eyes closed as the flames slowly dwindled.

“Was that so bad?” he stroked your cheek and trailed his finger down to poke between your lips, “No, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” he wiggled his hips and you hissed, “yeah, you want me.”

[asexual-abomination]

Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 2

The next part of my growing tale! The next part may be a bit shorter, but I've finally laid out a solid plan for where I want to take this!

Once again, this idea was first brought up by the lovely @kiame-sama. I also have no traditional education in writing, so any advice is greatly appreciated!

Hope you enjoy reading!

-----

The days following your switch were fairly normal, as you returned to work and your normal schedule. Your coworkers were sometimes nosy, asking when and how you would be reaching out your soulmate. Those questions annoyed you since they never accepted your explanation that you had already tried.

Unfortunately, you didn't really have any plan for finding your soulmate, and searching up the names you had been given hadn't been any help. Google kept trying to auto correct the names, which lead you to believe that they were rather rare. That made you think that you would have more ease in finding them, but you were unable to find anything but odd conspiracy theories that you knew better than to hold faith in.

It was stressful to think of the all the things you weren't able to do in finding your soulmate, so you tried to focus on distracting yourself with that which you found fun in real life. Watching your favorite movies for what had to have been the hundredth time, treating yourself to fancier food and some good new clothes, pulling your own mind away from the anxieties eating away at you.

It wasn't until that weekend that something felt off.

You would normally get a call from Jo in the morning of every Saturday, but they seemed to be delayed today. You truly worried that you had scared them off for good, but Jo themselves had told you multiple times that you shouldn't get too upset if the call came late.

Trying not to be too disheartened, you began the journey to work. Working as a librarian meant that while your work day was happily uneventful most days, your shifts extended into the weekend, so even on a Saturday morning you headed off on a commute.

To keep yourself active, you at least made the journey to and from the library on foot, especially seeing that it wasn't too far from your home. Boredom was rather easy at such a time as this, so you were quick to zone out and see only the pavement in front of your eyes. In your state of peace, you were too slow to notice that there were other footsteps joining yours until you were tugged into a side-path by your arms. Before you could yell out as you had been taught, a familiar voice began behind you.

"It's just me, but you need to listen very closely."

Jo's voice would normally calm you, however there was an insistence in their speech that told you they weren't here to catch up on the week.

"Look, I don't have too long to talk to you, but you need to take this," they pushed a thick binder full of sorted papers into your hands, and you took it quickly, "And follow it to the letter."

"Wait, why? What's going on!?" As you watched the panic in the way that Jo spoke, you felt overcome with the same worry, even though you had no clue what they were so upset about.

"Look, it's - it's about your soulmate, I've done some research, and he is not a good person. Not at all." They only furthered your confusion with such a statement, what research could Jo have done that you missed?

"I can't talk too much right now, but there are bad people on their way for you right now. Really horrible sorts. That binder has every instruction you need to follow to get away. If you follow it properly, there's a safe place for you to stay at the end, and I'll try to meet you there."

You could only splutter in the face of such intensity, half-coherent questions and worrying dying on your lips.

Before you could string together a sentence, your phone began to ring. You fished it out of your pocket, noting that there was no caller ID.

"(Y/N), you should answer that, but be careful what you say. It's probably that soulmate of yours, making them think they have your location will help, but you'll have to give me your phone afterwards."

There was an ache quickly forming in your head from all of the new information thrown at you, but you followed their instruction quickly, putting the phone to your ear.

"(Y/N), dear, I'm glad to have reached you. I should hope you're doing well?"

The voice was certainly the voice of your soulmate, but that didn't quell your anxiety. It took you a moment to realize that last bit was a question, and even when you figured it out, an odd tightness had formed in your throat.

"Um. Uh. I-I'm good, I guess? Are you... alright too?" You cursed your hesitant answer, but Jo looked at you from across the path with a stern nod, silently telling you that you were doing well.

A chuckle rang through the phone, quickly followed by his response, "Yes, dear, I'm doing well. You don't need to worry to much, we're almost prepared to come and meet you in person. You still work at that library, right?"

Your eyes widened at the confident question from him, practically jumping in surprise as you tried to figure out what answer would please both Jo and Chrollo. Jo gave you another nod, reaching out to gently tap your hand, lightly rubbing their thumb over the side of your palm.

With little else to go off of, you had to assume that this was Jo's way of soothing you from your upset, so you answered, "Yeah, I still work there, did - how did you find where I worked?"

As you spoke, you were trying to give Jo hints on what was being said by your soulmate, for which they were grateful, but it was unnecessary as they heard Chrollo speaking with ease.

"That's not important at the moment. You're going to be there until three, right? Like I said, we're still preparing at the moment, but we should be ready to come and get you by then. Does that sound good to you?"

Jo's face grew angry at that statement, but they still didn't speak, not wanting to alert him to their presence lest he realize that you would be missing in just a few hours.

"Err, 'come and get me'?" Even you knew that there was something iffy about that wording, especially since you didn't plan on going anywhere, even with your soulmate on a first meeting.

"Yes, exactly, we'll come and get you. At three O'clock from the Old Town Library. You don't need to leave the building, we'll come in and get you from there. I can't wait to see you, dear, you'll wait for me won't you?"

Before you could respond that you certainly wouldn't be waiting for him, the call was hung up. You felt almost out of breath as you looked mindlessly at your phone's lock screen, having to be snapped back from your trance by Jo taking a more insistent grip on your hand, pulling you to look at them.

"You understand now? Why you have to leave?" They had spoken forcefully before, but their tone was tougher now, pushing you to answer. Though you still struggled to speak as you caught your breath, your nod was enough for Jo.

Suddenly, Jo began to reach for you with their other hand, hesitating for a moment before pulling you into a hug, tight against their broad chest. You jumped at the contact, but that was nowhere near the shock you felt when you noticed the tears streaming down their face as they quickly pulled away. In all your years of friendship, you had never seen Jo cry. You had watched them fight, scream, and tremble in anger or fear, but never had a tear passed their eyes before you.

"Look, that binder has everything you need to get out of here unnoticed, I know that you can follow it and get to safety." Their tone was unaffected by their tears, not even the slightest wobble to be heard, yet they went on, "I know - I know that this going to be hard, but there is hope at the end of this. I can promise that I'll meet you at the safe house, if you can promise that you'll follow every instruction I give you."

At any other moment, you could have chuckled at their insistence, but now you found yourself nodding solemnly to their speech.

"Please, let's meet on the other side. I'll keep you safe no matter what they bring."

[winterscaptain]

long shot.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic - no context required

a/n: this is in response to this ask in kind of a loose way, and also fulfills kiss prompt #6 (on a falling tear). i sat down and wrote this all in one sitting this weekend and it makes me smile SO MUCH. tell me what you think! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) this one takes place in au!december 2012

words: 2.3k warnings: alcohol use/mention, allusions to sex, language

summary: “i couldn’t have dreamed you into existence because i didn’t even know i needed you. you must have been sent to me.” - kamand kojouri

It’s a rare early night off in December and you all make the ill-advised choice to go to the bar closest to the base for some drinks and dancing, completely forgetting that academy graduation is tomorrow. 

There’s part of you that feels aged by the whole thing. Even newly-minted agents your own age look fresh-faced and about a decade younger than you feel. 

When you all walk in, there’s a bit of a hush, a lull, in the conversations around you. You find eyes on you from all directions and realize your faces are familiar ones, and in the case of Aaron and Dave, almost-famous ones. 

Aaron pulls you further into him, almost shielding you with his body as you navigate through the crowd that parts before you. It seems like an eternity before you find a table, but Derek, Aaron, and Spencer hold down the fort while the rest of you manage drinks. Strategic postings at either end of the bar is likely going to get you the best return, so you fan out accordingly. 

It’s unsurprising in the least when the bartenders make a beeline for you all, getting your orders down and drinks started over the shouts of NATs - many of them already blasted with three or four shots under their belt. 

While you wait, you can still feel a fair few pairs of eyes on you. You meet one pair, set in the face of a rather handsome new agent about your age. He smiles at you, and you shift your eyes away from him, your expression unmoving. 

He apparently takes that as invitation enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him as he winds his way to your side. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes across the room, and there’s a smile in them. You offer the smallest twitch of your lips and a wink. Watch this. 

Oh, I’m watching, his eyebrows say. 

“Hi.” The young agent finally reaches your side and offers his hand. You take it. “Agent Mark Sullivan.” 

You smile thinly and introduce yourself. “So, I take it you’ve just received an assignment?”

He laughs, making an attempt at charm. “Alright. You’re a profiler,” he says with confidence. “What gave me away?” It’s a challenge.

It’s also a long shot. A really really long shot. 

There were plenty of people in the vicinity that would be reeled in by his warm smile and handsome jawline, but your fine man (currently sprawled back in his chair with an arm on the back of the chair and a hand over his mouth to cover his smile) stands head and shoulders above the rest, sometimes literally. 

“Well,” you start, making a show of eyeing him from head to toe, “Your papers are still in your pocket and you’ve left your ID tag on, against academy and bureau regulations.” 

He startles and snatches it off his lapel, tucking it into his pocket. 

With a little smile, you soothe his embarrassment - it’s a play only designed to endear yourself to him. “It tells me you’re proud, excited. I felt the same way when I received my assignment and credentials. It’s a significant accomplishment.”

You can’t quite tell in the irregular darkness in the room, but he looks almost like he’s blushing. “Thanks.” He collects himself after a moment, putting his bravado back on. 

Your eyes flicker to Hotch once, twice. He’s still watchful. Amused. 

“So, I was lucky enough to see your lectures with the BAU and I must say...it’s impressive.” 

He says that like it’s some kind of validation. 

I need validation from this clown like I need a hole in the head. 

“Thanks. I’m usually rather modest, but I think it’s alright to say the BAU is a very fine unit.” If you’re honest, you’re talking about one particular unit chief’s...um...unit, specifically, but that’s neither here nor there.

He smirks. “What would you say if I told you I got a placement on one of the BAU teams?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? That’s quite the accomplishment.” A pair of arms wind around you and a kiss is pressed to your temple. 

It would also be a lie.

You smile and flip in Aaron’s arms, completely ignoring poor Mark. “I was just getting you a drink,” you explain, gesturing vaguely to the bar behind you. 

“I see. Did you get me -”

“Double scotch, neat, aged at least fifteen years? Yes, sir.” 

He smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“I sure do.” You pull him down by his tie and plant a firm kiss on his lips and shove him off with a smile. “Go. Sit. I’ve got it.” 

You turn back to Mark with a breathless sort of laugh. Aaron always makes you feel a little flushed and you’re happy to play it up for the benefit of the moment. “Sorry about that.” 

Mark, you find, is reconsidering his strategy. His face, while still outwardly warm, harbors a kind of calculated look to it that would almost be funny if you weren’t so eager to see what kind of trick he’d pull next. “So, Hotchner?”

“What about him?”

Mark shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t he have a kid?”

You nod. “Yep.” 

“And he’s a widower, right?”

“Yes.” 

Mark laughs a little. “Wouldn’t it be kinda nice to, I dunno, have some fun for a little while?”

You frown at him, and your drink arrives at the hands of the frazzled bartender. You pull the fifty from your sleeve and pass it to him with a smile. After a sip, you ask. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like a lot to take on, you know?” He backpedals upon seeing your squint. “I mean, I’m sure he’s a great guy, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone...I dunno -” He restores his confidence and leans on the bar. Again, his moves would probably work on someone else, but you were a lost cause. “- easier?”

Aaron’s scotch arrives. You pick it up in your free hand and shrug somewhat breezily. “Maybe.” 

You brush past him, leaving Mark a little confused and a bit stunned. When you return to the table after much jostling, you take a seat right on Aaron’s lap and pass him his drink, reclining in his arms. Scanning over the crowd, Mark’s frowning face sticks out like a sore thumb and you try not to look too smug. 

Other than Rossi, the rest of the team is already out on the dance floor, so you know Aaron doesn’t mind having you close. 

He sets his scotch down and wraps his arms around you kissing the underside of your jaw. You lean into his touch and smile. 

There’s nothing easier than this. 

+++

There’s something a bit sulky about Aaron when you settle next to him in bed. You squint at him, looking for his eyes as they follow the loose pattern on the bedspread. 

“Hey.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “What’s on your mind?” 

He shakes his head a little, still not meeting your eyes. “Nothing. Just thinking.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you throw the covers off and sling a leg over him, straddling his thighs. You tap your palms on his pecs on-beat with your begging. “Come on. Tell me tell me tell me tell -”

“Jesus, alright!” He cuts you off with two hands over yours, his thumbs running fondly over your knuckles. “I just…” He huffs, already a little frustrated with himself for feeling put out. 

You slide your hands out from underneath his, running up over his collarbones and shoulders to find the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear…”

You let all your breath out in a huff. “Oh, Aaron. He’s a stupid NAT who knows the only way to come after you is to come after your history.” You kiss his cheek and tuck into him. “He was trying to be a big-dick boy and it didn’t pay off for him.” 

There’s a halfhearted laugh from underneath you, and his hands wander across your back. “He is right, though. It would be easi-”

“If you say ‘easier,’ Aaron Hotchner, I’m going to lose my shit.” 

He sighs, and you pull back, tipping his chin up with a finger. 

“Hey. I love Jack. He is not an added weight in my life. He does not make my life harder in any way. Your son,” you emphasize with taps on his lips, “is the light of my life and I wouldn’t ever want to be without him.” 

Aaron’s eyes get a little misty. For his sake, you ignore it and continue. 

“I never feel like a replacement for Haley. I’ve never once minded leaving room for her in our lives because she’s my friend and I love her and I love you. I loved you before we lost her and I’ve loved you long after. This baggage keeps my feet firmly planted on the ground.” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, and his voice has the smallest of wavers when he speaks. Before he even starts, you concede to let him share what he’s feeling, if only to rebut it. “But you could - you could have so much. You could have someone ten or fifteen years younger who - I don’t know - could do things with you that thirty-somethings do. You wouldn’t have to spend your weekends at soccer games or your evenings rubbing Icy Hot on my bad knee or dealing with me on rough pain days or raising your voice because I can’t hear shit on my right side.” 

He shakes his head, and you brush the tears that fall with your thumbs. “You could have - You deserve, so much more...” The rest of his words go unspoken, but you hear them anyway. 

You deserve so much more than me.

Your eyes sting and you blink rapidly, letting your tears wet your lashes. Leaning forward, you kiss away his remaining tears, shifting your weight to wrap your legs around his waist and get as close as you can. 

With your head on his left shoulder, you whisper, “Aaron, I don’t want someone ten or fifteen years younger. I don’t care what I’m doing on my evenings and weekends because I get to spend them with you.” 

You pause for a moment. “And, I don’t need boys. I’m done with boys.” 

You lean back, looking him square in the eye, or at least trying to. “I have a man who has silver in his hair because he worries and is in his mid-forties and it doesn’t fucking matter. I have a man who is the subject of so many crushes and fantasies at the academy it makes me want to vomit.” You laugh a little at your own joke, but he’s still focused on the seam of your shirt at your collar. Changing gears, you bring your hands to the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your thumbs.

“I have no need for boys because I have a man who treats me with kindness and respect. A man who is thoughtful, who isn’t afraid of himself. A man who knows himself, who loves his son, who invited me into his life when he didn’t have to because he’s brave.”

A couple more tears fall down your cheeks and you frame his face with your hands. “You love better and more courageously than anyone I have ever known.” 

You sniffle a little. “Aaron, honey...I love you. I wouldn’t want anything else, or anyone else, for my life, to be my partner, my best friend, the person I love. Odds have it that you’ll be my husband and the father of any other kids we might acquire and that we’ll grow even older and grayer together.” 

You let a little facetious smirk cross your lips. “And I’d like you to look at me and tell me I’d be happy with some dickhead named Mark with a business degree who wears shoes well-outside his pay grade.” 

That does it. 

Aaron smiles and pulls you to him with a hand at the back of your head. Your lips meet and you can taste the saltwater, but it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls back to look at you, and he really looks at you. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as if trying to memorize every line and curve and lash and budding wrinkle he finds there. 

You simply melt in the dark brown of his eyes, watching him take his time. 

Even then, as you expected, there is some doubt - not in you, of course, but in him. “Really?”

“Really.” You hold up your fist between your faces, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.” 

He smiles a little and links your pinkies together, twisting your hands to kiss your knuckles. Your hands drop into your lap and another little smile crosses your face. 

“What?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’m also thinking about how thirty-something-year-old boys absolutely suck in bed. I can pretty much guarantee that you’re better at - well, just about everything.” 

He closes his eyes and smiles, looking the picture of a happy house cat in the sun. You draw closer, running your nose along his. He leans toward you and captures your lips again. 

The next few hours? Don’t worry. They’re spent proving your point.  

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

The last couple of weeks of May flew by, soon June arrived and with it even more sunny days and warmer temperatures. Peter couldn’t help but think that his life fell apart in the winter, and as summer approached, it was slowly getting back on track. He was able to save a decent amount of money every month, his apartment was coming together – he even had a dinner table and chairs by the second week of June –, he was taking on more responsibility at BFF way quicker than expected and he was happier, in general.

He felt comfortable enough to make plans again – with the steady money he was making, he might be able to give up porn in a couple of years and he would still be eligible to apply for some of BFF’s grants and scholarships, meaning he may be able to go to college at 23, after all. Money would be tight for a while, but it was doable. He could always work part-time to supplement his income as well.

Summer also brought some unexpected good news. On a random Thursday morning, he was bombarded with messages on Twitter and Instagram from people asking where they could find his videos now that Beck’s channel was down. He was confused at first, but when he went to check, the channel wasn’t there, it had disappeared from the site.

He gasped. For a total of five seconds, his mind went wild, his heart raced, and his eyes watered. For those five seconds, he felt a mixture of happiness, relief and confusion, knowing those videos weren’t out there anymore, couldn’t be found, couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be remembered. But it was only for five blissful seconds. When his brain turned back on and the first rush of excitement died down, he realized that probably wouldn’t last.

That had happened before, when they first started posting. People mass reported the videos and the channel until they got taken down, because Peter looked very young at eighteen. They had to send a picture of his ID to the website for check several times, it was months before it stopped happening once and for all. Peter assumed Beck was posting videos of his new boyfriend, who he knew looked very young, so it was probably just a misunderstanding and only a matter of time until he got the channel – and the videos – back up.

Still, he allowed himself to count that as a win and couldn’t help but feeling giddy all day, to the point where everybody noticed his good mood – Ned, MJ, people at BFF and Tony.

Tony, who didn’t disappear. As days and nights and weeks went by, Peter stopped waiting for it to happen.

“Someone is awfully cheery today.” The older man grinned at him from the driver’s side that night, as Peter sang along to Ed Sheeran, because it was his turn to choose the playlist. Tony had picked him up from BFF and they were heading to his place for a quiet night in.

“It’s a good day, Tony.” He shot back after the chorus of Put it All on Me and the older man beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

“It sure is, kitten.” He turned up the volume and Peter sang even louder, causing Tony to burst out laughing.

At some point, he realized life was a little less complicated than he gave it credit for. He realized that if he actually gave things the precise amount of thought they deserved, not everything felt like the end of the world. The minute he decided to just let things happen the way they were supposed to happen, without overthinking every detail, life got so much easier.

He decided not to make the thing with Tony a big deal. Sure, when he thought about it for more than two minutes, it seemed like a huge fucking deal, he was basically dating Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the world, Iron Man himself, the man who had literately saved half the universe from extinction not even two years earlier. So, yes, that seemed like a big fucking deal, but–

But.

To him, he was just Tony. This charming guy who texted him daily to ask about his day and crack acid jokes about his business associates. This kind guy who sent him chocolates when he was feeling down and cooked him dinner every weekend and made sure to e-mail him easy and healthy recipes so he wouldn’t starve to death. This gentle guy who called him beautiful and touched him with such care that he forgot how many hands had left bruises on his skin before.

When he forgot everything Tony was supposed to be and just focused on everything that he was to him, what they had seemed so simple and pure.

He stopped worrying about labels, too. In the beginning, he kept stressing about what they had, what was expected of him, what he expected of Tony, but eventually, he decided none of that mattered. They made each other feel good, they made each other happy, they made each other better, all in all, whatever label he could put on their relationship wouldn’t make any difference, so he let it go.

Weeks later, Peter heard Beck had managed to get the channel back up, only for it to get taken down again in a few hours, then his Instagram and Twitter also disappeared. He wasn’t too surprised, and if he was honest with himself, it was fun imagining Beck losing his mind as he tried to fix it. After all, every day the channel was down, he was losing money. And his social media, specially his Twitter account, was where he promoted his content to thousands of followers, so losing that meant losing money as well, and if there was one thing Peter knew Beck loved, it was money.

He wondered what the fuck the man had done to piss people off like that, it was clearly a coordinated attack, but he wasn’t curious enough to try and find out what happened. He would rather watch from a distance, rejoicing in the satisfaction it gave him to imagine that maybe, just maybe, one of those days Beck wouldn’t be able to get the channel back up and would have to start from scratch, like Peter did. And maybe then he wouldn’t re-upload his videos – that part was a little harder to believe, but who knew, stranger things had happened.

When June came to an end, Peter was surprised with a notification from Tony on Just4Fans. He had almost forgot the man was still subscribed to his account there, they obviously never chatted on the app anymore, and when he opened the notification, his blood ran cold in his veins.

It was a tip.

A hundred thousand dollars tip.

He couldn’t fucking believe it. A tip? For what, a job well done? It wasn’t like Peter was – what did that even mean? Was Tony trying to say something with that, send some kind of message?

He decided not to call him right away, he was too – upset. The older man was picking him up later that evening for dinner, so he decided to wait. Whatever he had to say to him, he wanted to hear it in person. He wanted him to look in his eyes and tell him he thought he was his fucking wh–

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked as soon he got in his car, avoiding the kiss that came his way. Tony blinked in surprise, trying to understand why he got a phone shoved in his face instead of a kiss, and then he finally saw what that was all about.

“Oh, that–“ But before he could answer anything, Peter interrupted.

“I told you I’m not – Tony, why would you – this is so insulting!” He was honestly at a loss for words. They had been seeing each other for almost two months by then, things were going great, they met every week, they made apple pie together, for God’s sake, had he misunderstood all the signs?

“My God, Peter, that’s not that, I just thought – I mean, I’m a billionaire, you know this is pocket change for me, right?” Peter gasped, shocked, and Tony’s eyes widened when he fumbled with the door handle. “Wait! I didn’t mean – Jesus, okay, hold on a second, please!” Tony reached over him to shut the door before Peter could get out of the car. The young man turned to look at him with tears in his eyes and Tony looked incredulous when he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t just assume the worst, have I given you any reason for that?” He sounded hurt, which made Peter gulp. He took a few calming breaths and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he whispered, dropping his gaze.

“Ok, good.” He actually sounded relieved at that. “I am a billionaire, Peter, and this is pocket change for me, which means –“ he raised his voice a little, predicting a reaction from him that didn’t come, “I didn’t realize this would be such a big deal. For me, it’s like giving you, I don’t know, flowers. I didn’t mean this as a payment for whatever you think this is, I just thought this would be a good help. You’re starting your life now, you have that list of yours that you don’t let me see, you’re saving up money, you have your plans for college, I just meant to help. I mean, if we weren’t together, I would have tipped you every month, so I thought –“

“But we are together, Tony, I –“ he was a little calmer then, because that was, in fact, a reasonable explanation and he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but next time you mean to give me flowers, just give me flowers! I believe you have the best intentions at heart, but it’s just weird for me. I don’t want this to be about money. I just – don’t want that, okay?”

He gazed at the older man as he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out for a while.

“I just thought – I mean, people usually –“ It was unusual to see Tony speechless like that, but the man shook his head and looked back at him, almost embarrassed. “I just want to help you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter poked him in the arm, trying to lighten up the mood in the car. “You’re teaching me how to cook. Yesterday I made an omelet and I only burned one side, I’m getting good at this. That’s a big help.”

Tony didn’t laugh at his joke, like he usually did, he just gazed at him with an unreadable expression, before leaning in to kiss him, which Peter gladly reciprocated.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” he whispered, then, resting his forehead against his.

“And I’m sorry I was rude. It won’t happen again,” he promised, and he meant it.

After that night, he removed Tony from his Just4Fans, which came as a blow to the older man, who pouted and whined for about a week, only stopping when Peter showed up at his place one Saturday wearing Iron Man lingerie under his clothes – it was supposed to be a joke, but it worked surprisingly well for Tony.  

By July, it became impossible to keep sneaking around Ned and MJ, as the dates became more frequent. Peter decided to tell them that he had met someone online and that they were getting to know each other. He told them it was nothing serious yet and if it became serious, they would meet him.

He did have to throw in a few lies to get them off his back – he definitely had to lie about Tony’s age to avoid certain comparisons, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it, if he ever got to it. He wasn’t sure if or when he was going to tell them the whole truth, but for the time being, he  felt more comfortable keeping that relationship to himself.

He and Tony didn’t go out much, but when they did, it was always to fancy and discreet restaurants with private rooms; Tony was, after all, a celebrity for all intents and purposes, and at if the press got a whiff of them there would be no secret left to keep.

But staying in with Tony was far from boring. They cooked together and the older man taught him all of his grandmother’s secret recipes – Peter could never replicate them by himself at home, but it was still fun trying. They spent almost all of their time down in the workshop, though, where Tony  had him do menial tasks, like screwing bolts or reaching for a part inside an Iron Man suit. He said his tiny hands were useful for his projects.

He knew he wasn’t really that useful, but he loved when Tony included him and asked for his help, even though he didn’t really need it. He was fascinated by everything the older man taught him in those moments and in turn Tony always looked proud and pleased when Peter put his lessons to use.

He didn’t mind keeping him company when Tony was focused on projects he couldn’t help with, he stayed there anyway, reading a book or watching TV on the tiny couch – Tony kept saying he was going to get a bigger one, but he didn’t believe it, he knew the older man enjoyed the fact that the only way they could fit comfortably on it was if Peter was lying half on top of him.

So after several weeks, they established a little routine of their own. Since Tony had a busy schedule and Peter was still trying to keep Ned and MJ somewhat in the dark, they didn’t meet that often on week days, but they always talked on the phone before bed. On Thursdays, Tony picked him up after his shift at BFF and he spent the night at his place. They had breakfast together on Fridays and then they met again every Saturday after lunch, and finally Tony dropped him back off home every Sunday evening, so he could have dinner with his friends.

In August, for the first time in his life, Peter had two birthday celebrations. One with his friends, when the three of them went bar-hopping and he got home so hammered he had absolutely no idea how they managed to climb the stairs, and another with Tony, when he decorated the workshop with  balloons and put party hats on Dum-E and U.

“Surprise!” He yelled lamely, throwing confetti at Peter when they stepped into the workshop. The younger man laughed, delighted, as Tony hurried to the kitchenette and came back with something in his hands. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I promise it tastes good. Probably.” When Peter looked down, he noticed it was a large chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday, kitten’ written on it in bright pink icing. It looked so ugly, but it was so beautiful at the same time. “What did I do now?” Tony frowned, face falling.

He blinked a few times and when he touched his cheeks, he realized he was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just – really happy.” He grinned, pulling the older man’s face to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”

It was late October when Tony told him he had to go on a trip to China for two weeks, and even though it wasn’t his first work trip since they started dating, five months earlier, it would be by far the longest one since then, so it was kind of a big deal. Still, he didn’t expect to feel so affected, but on the days leading up to it he was so upset he couldn’t hide it.

They spent their last Sunday together wrapped up in each other doing absolutely nothing. They slept in, Tony brought Peter breakfast in bed, which was rewarded with a lazy and sloppy blow job, and they spent all day in bed, only getting up for essentials, like food and water. They didn’t even turn on the TV, they didn’t even talk much. They just held each other and exchanged slow, tender kisses until their bodies were too warm to stay under the sheets.

Tony ran a bath for them and got in the tub – it was big enough for eight people, but Peter made a point to sit in his lap, clinging to him like a koala. He felt Tony’s arms encircle him gently, as he rested his chin on top of his head.

“I’ll be home before you even have time to miss me, kitten.” He whispered, and those were the first words either of them had said in at least a few hours.

Peter didn’t tell him that was impossible since he already missed him, instead he just held him even tighter.

After the bath water went cold, they climbed out of the tub and Tony insisted on drying him, before dressing him in one of his own T-shirts, even though Peter had a multitude of spare clothes in his closet. He sat in bed, watching Tony pack a huge suitcase that reminded him just how long he would be gone for. He sulked a little – just a little – and that earned him a little kiss on his forehead, which was enough to undo the frown between his brows.

Finally, in the evening, Tony parked his car in front of Peter’s building, turning to look at him with an almost pained smile, before leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Peter whispered against his mouth and felt when Tony’s lips stretched into a small smile. He pulled away a little, just enough to look into his eyes, and cupped his chin in his hand.

“I’ll miss you too, but I won’t be long, ok? It’s just a few days.” He pecked Peter’s lips one more time for good measure and the younger man nodded.

“Call me if you have time.”

“Of course, kitten, every day.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one longer than the previous, and Peter’s heart fluttered. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, containing the urge to say those three words that had been trapped in the back of his throat for weeks.

“Have a safe trip. Let me know when you land.”

“I will, baby.”

Peter got out of the car and waved, watching as it disappeared down the street. He sighed and his heart ached, he already missed Tony and it had only been a few seconds, how was he going to survive fifteen whole days? It seemed impossible. It was crazy to think how far they had come since March, when they talked for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He turned to go inside, but froze in place when he heard a familiar voice.

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, huh? How rude.” He turned slowly to the left, only to be met with Beck’s cocky, arrogant smile, just a few feet away from him. “I tried calling, I tried texting, you’ve blocked me everywhere, I can’t even e-mail you anymore, it appears.” Beck walked slowly and leaned against the rails of the stairs to Peter’s building and the younger man curled his hands in fists, trying to control the urge to just run. “Long time no see, Petey-pie.”

He was paralyzed, muscles rigid, but to his own surprise, it wasn’t fear that he felt, or sadness. It was pure anger.  

“I wonder why,” he answered quietly, but firmly. Beck’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, before the smile was back in place. “How did you find me?” He demanded, because Beck had never cared to ask where Peter was going to stay after he kicked him out, so how in the hell would he know where to find him?

“Wasn’t easy, I have been following you on Instagram, some of your morning run routes seemed familiar, so I–”

“You stalked me?” He frowned, taking a step closer to the other man, who looked at Peter with indignation and hurt. He shook his head, softened those baby blue eyes and placed one hand over his chest, right above where his heart would have been if he had one.

“I just wanted to see you, is all.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze to stare at his own feet, and Peter wanted to roll his eyes. It was so weird watching his whole act now that the spell had been lifted.

“What do you want?” He asked, making the older man’s head snap back up, a little surprised by his cold tone.

“I just told you, I wanted to see you. I missed you.” He took a few steps towards Peter, who in turn walked backwards to keep his distance

“You missed me?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Where’s your new boy-toy, you put him away so you could come play with me?” He cocked his head to the side and, for a moment, he could see the shock crossing his features.

“Pete… Why are you acting like this, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore...” His voice broke and he looked away, pretending to wipe away a tear. He wondered how the hell he used to fall for that.

“You don’t, Quentin. I’m not a lost little boy anymore, you should go back to your boyfriend. Or is he smarter than me and dumped you already? Is that what this is all about?” He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and Beck’s mouth hung open like he couldn’t believe his words.

“I made a mistake, Pete. After so many years, I took you for granted, I couldn’t see what I saw the first time I met you. I couldn’t see how beautiful you were, how caring and loving you were, how loyal and reliable and – I don’t know, I was blind. I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have left you.” His eyes were wide, earnest, shining with unshed tears. His face was open, even his body language screamed honesty. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so bad about falling for his act – Beck was good. “Don’t  you miss me, baby? Don’t you miss us?”

Peter snorted, shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the nerve of that man.

“You made a mistake, huh? So you dumped your new boy, right? If I were to go home with you right now, he wouldn’t be there, waiting for you, like a fucking plan B, in case this doesn’t go your way. Right?” It was his turn to take a few steps towards the older man. “Like I was your plan B while you waited for him to turn 18?”

“Peter, c’mon–“

“Is he there, Beck? Just answer me that. Come on, if he’s not, I’ll take you back right now, we can go home together.” He insisted, looking into the older man’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just sighed. “Of course he is. If I said yes, what would you do? Tell him to pack his things in the middle of the night and leave? Would you keep all the money he’s made you and tell him to fuck off? Would you leave him broke and lonely and fucking lost in this world? Would you tell him that he wasn’t good enough and dispose of him like he’s fucking garbage?” His voice grew louder and louder, and when he came to himself, he noticed he was in Beck’s face, their chests almost touching, so he took a step back. “So to answer your question, Quentin, no, I don’t fucking miss you. You fucking ruined me!”

“I saved you!” And just like that, the good guy act was gone. His whole demeanor changed, the soft baby blues widened, his mouth was set in a sneer, he puffed out his chest to intimidate him, but Peter stood his ground. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember who you were before me. You were a fucking loser! An orphan, no family, no friends, no future! I took you in, I took care of you, I gave you a profession – don’t fucking roll your eyes, what the fuck are you doing now, huh? Rocket science? ‘Cause it seems to me like you’re still doing porn, and now you’re clearly branching out into prostitution, would you look at that!”

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” He placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away when he got too fucking close for comfort. He held his breath when he realized what he had done, afraid of the man’s reaction, but he just kept his distance.  

“You know what? Fuck you, Peter. I was wrong about you, I thought I knew who you were, I thought I missed you, but you’re just a disgusting fucking whore, after all. You’re a dirty little bitch in heat who likes to get this loose hole of yours fucked by old perverts, I don’t know why I’m surprised, I mean, that’s why I dumped you, you were enjoying those videos a little bit too much for my taste. You weren’t even satisfied with two cocks up your ass, one in your mouth and a line of men waiting to fuck you. You disgust me.” He started walking away, and Peter wanted to say something, he wanted to yell at him and defend himself, he wanted to tell him he didn’t fucking enjoy it, he wanted to tell him that it was all his fault, he threw him to the lions, he let those men fucking–

Fuck!

He rushed inside the building and ran upstairs, eyes clouded with tears. He tripped and fell knees first on the steps, but he didn’t even feel pain, he just got up and kept going, kept running, trying to put as much distance between him and Beck as he could, even though it was irrational. Beck was gone, he walked away, he left him, he left him again, he wasn’t coming back–

“Ned?!” He knocked urgently on his friends’ door. He didn’t have his spare key, it was upstairs in his own apartment, but he couldn’t trust himself to go all the way up there and down again without having a full on panic attack. “MJ?! Are you guys home?!” He was really trying not to sound too desperate, he didn’t want to scare them, but it was hard controlling his emotions when his heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Peter?” It was MJ who yanked the door open. She had a towel wrapped around her torso, her hair was wet, and Peter felt guilty, but she took one look at him and quickly pulled him into a hug. “My God, Peter...” She whispered into his hair when he started sobbing uncontrollably on her naked shoulder. “Come on in, c’mon.” He heard the door closing behind him, but he didn’t let go of her, he felt like if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together.  

He wanted to tell her not to worry, that she should go finish her shower and change, but he really, really needed her right then. She sat down on the couch, pulling him with her and he promptly laid down, burying his face in her legs. He couldn’t stop crying and sobbing and no matter how many times she asked him what was wrong, sounding increasingly more worried, he couldn’t get his feelings under control enough to give her any answer.

He was there for what felt like hours, when at some point someone lifted him from MJ’s lap and enveloped him in such a tight hug he couldn’t breath for a second, but he sighed in relief, it was right what he needed. Ned’s arms felt like home, it calmed him down almost instantly – his voice whispering that it was fine, everything was going to be okay helped a lot, too.

“I hate him, I hate him so fucking much,” he mumbled into his shoulder, God knew how much time later, and his friend just hummed, patting his back. “I hate that he made a mess of me and I let him.” He couldn’t hold back more tears when he said that, because it was true, it was so fucking true. He let Beck do whatever he wanted to him, he let him ruin his dreams, his future, his fucking personality, until he was nothing but a shell of what he used to be.

“I know, Peter, I know,” Ned soothed him, rubbing his back, even though he probably had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s okay now. You’re okay. It’s over”

“I made tea.” MJ’s quiet voice sounded somewhere from his right and when he turned to look at her, she was already dressed, wet hair up in a bun, with a mug in her hands, which she extended to him. He accepted it but didn’t dare to take a sip, he was positive that if he did, he would throw up, his stomach was all kinds of fucked up at that moment. “Peter, what happened? Did Star – uh, did your boyfriend do something? Did he hurt? ‘Cause I swear to God–” Just the mention of Tony being the cause of his distress made him sick, so he cut her off.

“Beck was here.” He sniffed, looking at the mug to avoid their eyes when he heard both of them gasping.

“Beck? Beck was here? Fucking Beck?” MJ screeched and he nodded.

“He was waiting for me outside.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather enough energy to have that conversation.  

“What did he want?” Ned asked calmly, while MJ paced the floor, furious.

“I don’t know...” He shrugged, wrecking his brain to try and figure out what his motive was. “His channel got taken down a few weeks ago and he couldn’t get it back up. I heard he had to start over.” He hadn’t been watching that closely, but he knew something was wrong, even his Twitter and Instagram accounts kept getting taken down almost monthly, it was impossible he was making any money over the past few months. “He said he wanted to get back together, probably because he thinks us making up would be a big hit or whatever. I said no, of course. He didn’t like the answer.”

“Did he hurt you?!” MJ strode back to him until she was standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes. He was almost intimidated by her.

“No, he just… Said some pretty shitty things, is all,” he answered sheepishly, because he hated that that man could still make a mess of him with just a few hurtful words.

“Oh, dude. He’s just mad he’s lost control over you. Whatever he said, he just wanted to hurt you, it doesn’t mean anything.” Ned placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Peter rested his head against his, sighing.

“I know. He was always like that, you know,” he whispered, as flashes of memories crossed his mind. “When I didn’t bend to his wishes, when I didn’t do things his way, he fucking–“ He squeezed his eyes shut, furious, because he had fallen for that again. “He tries to charm me and when it doesn’t work, he attacks me. But the thing is, he really knows what to say to destroy me. It just sucks. But it’s fine. I just need a moment, I’ll be fine.” He sat up straight and looked both of his friends in the eyes.

“Yes, you will. You most certainly will.” Ned patted his shoulder one last time, getting up from the couch. “Why don’t you lie down for a second, huh? I’m making dinner, I’ll even try one of those recipes your mystery boyfriend taught you.” Just the mention of Tony made him breathe a little easier, even though he wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.

“Okay.” He nodded, smiling softly. MJ took Ned’s place on the couch and he lay down, placing his head on her legs, as she ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He was close to drifting off when he heard Ned gasp.

“Oh my God,” He breathed quietly from the kitchen and both Peter and MJ looked at him curiously from over the back of the couch.

“What?” She didn’t look too worried, but Peter was concerned about how pale he was.

“Ned, what’s wrong?” He frowned, watching Ned’s horrified expression looking at his phone like it was a murder scene. He raised his eyes and gulped.

“Peter is trending on Twitter,” he whispered, after a while.

“What?!” They both hurried over to the kitchen counter, and the first thing Peter saw when he looked at his phone was a picture of him and Tony in his car, kissing. As Ned scrolled down, more pictures showed up, but not only that, clips of his old videos were all over Twitter, people knew his full name, his real name, and they were making all sorts of comments. Iron Man, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, sex worker, prostitute and porn were trending.

The room was completely silent for a whole minute, before MJ turned on the TV.

“… appear that Tony Stark, former CEO of Stark Industries and retired Avenger, was seen kissing a young man in his car earlier this evening. The person in the pictures seems to be one Peter Parker, a twenty-one year old porn actor, who is also said to work as a prostitute…”

Peter’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his vision blurred and he felt bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath and got up from the couch, ears ringing, as he rushed to the front door.  He heard his friends yelling something, but he couldn’t make out their words, and he just couldn’t deal with all that right then and there.

“I, uhm, I gotta go,” he called from over his shoulder, slamming the door shut on his way out.

As he ran upstairs, vision blurred by tears and chest hurting, begging for oxygen, he couldn’t help but remember his life fell apart in the winter. And fall would be over soon.

-x-

So... It appears that someone has lost the ability to write short chapters... 

Anyways, only three more chapters to go!  🥳

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker @ whyisthisathingcb

[baekhvuns]

No the song was not GOOD I mean have you heard the original?! It's hilariously bad so the Eng version is even worse better idusjdhdhdusbdbs. Yeah we can be his cats 👁👄👁

Hwa is a siren HE LURES US WITH HIS HIPS! Vampire Seonghwa is always on my mind it's just peak Hwa for me

Yessss I think he used to be too shy to do those "cool" things, but now despite feeling embarrassed he goes for it anyway because HE LIKES WHEN ATINYS ARE FOOLED 😭 and the reactions yeah he loves that and good for him. Pls leave Jongho alone 💀 also Hongjoong HE DOESN'T WANNA SHOW YOU HIS ABS MAN HATES EXERCISING TOO

There seems to be some spiders epidemic going helpppp. Also there are so many bugs in general 😭 why can't they leave me alooooooneeeeee, get your own houses! Shockingly there aren't many mosquitoes these days?

I heard from my Exo-ls friends that some things haven't been continued and they're still waiting for more clues. Yeah Skz doesn't rely on their storyline as heavily, but you can see elements of it throughout their MVs like Side Effects, Astronaut, Levanter. Noeasy and especially Oddinary had huge story behind them with the sound monster, then Felix was the main character in Oddinary we theorised they referenced Alice in Wonderland. Some people dislike lore which is fine, but I don't get the complaints? I think Aespa and Kwangya is a bit cringy and SM is trying too hard to incorporate Kwangya in other artists' music, but the AI and black mamba ideas are actually not bad

I saw the leak I wonder which one is the title? So many leaks with this cb, kinda sad. So the pre orders dropped and tbh I'm not too happy we're back to squares RIP MY SHELF DESIGN also it means smaller photobooks...whack, not to mention they got rid of the lyric postcards and replaced them with ID PHOTOCARDS?! Yeah I get it the whole government thing, but those are so useless. I saw people on twt being happy and I'm like huh? The covers are... whatever, I gave up on interesting Ateez cover designs, lmaooooo. I woke up and I need to complain maybe it's the period and I need to deal with my GO too 😭 I saw USA has some exclusive versions like jewel cases 💀 and the amount of fan signs/video calls already. Maybe I'll win one 😭

Omg really?! I forgot about The Great Seducer, but now it makes sense that bb!Hwa was based on him

Size kink when she's 2cm taller than San 😭😭😭 you'll never catch me with that kink too.

Lmao but people are on much higher levels though. I play during work when I'm bored which is almost always hhahahdahaghaga. I know bestie I'm going to another party this weekend COME OVER. I missed two ATZ songs because I arrived late I was big mad :////

That sucks you can't see her even though she's coming to your city, fuck uni who needs to be a lawyer! Yes and her response after the backlash was a bit, hmmm... tainted her image for sure, but it was probably her company so it's not her choice, but yeah some companies actually see the backlash and cancel their NFT plans, like A.C.E's company for example

The fake tweets are funny, but yes sometimes I'm just like???

NEED TO SINK MY TEETH INTO SEONGHWA'S COLLARBONES BUT HIS ARMS ARE NEXT! My friends went to Uni Kon and said it was scorching so no wonder the artists were sweating buckets 😭😭😭😭 but I also hate seeing Hwa in the Wang shorts again because that man is 💀💀💀💀💀 https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10736079/Designer-Alexander-Wang-returns-accused-sexually-assaulting-male-transgender-models.html sorry for the Daily Mail link but yeah. So when I saw someone say @ AW on twt PLEASE HIRE SEONGHWA AS YOUR MODEL I WAS LIKE NOOOOOOO DO NOOOOOOT.

Oooooh I saw that miss tenelkadjowrites published another Seonghwa fic 👀 I think I need to wait until I'm period-free to read it cause now the vibe is ruined khdhsudhjsbshshs - DV 💖

hello hi!!

No the song was not GOOD I mean have you heard the original?! It's hilariously bad so the Eng version is even worse better idusjdhdhdusbdbs. Yeah we can be his cats 👁👄👁

FBWMFBWK WORSE BETTER 😭😭😭 his cats??? what type bESTIE theres categories fbwhhdjd

Hwa is a siren HE LURES US WITH HIS HIPS! Vampire Seonghwa is always on my mind it's just peak Hwa for me

FORGET SIREN HWA BELLY DANCING AU FT.MISS SHAKIRA FBWNFHS 😭😭😭 vampire hwa omg,,, i don’t think there’s many out there tbh ive seen someone but it’s usually that period sex thing and 😭😭😭???? 🔫🔫

Yessss I think he used to be too shy to do those "cool" things, but now despite feeling embarrassed he goes for it anyway because HE LIKES WHEN ATINYS ARE FOOLED 😭 and the reactions yeah he loves that and good for him. Pls leave Jongho alone 💀 also Hongjoong HE DOESN'T WANNA SHOW YOU HIS ABS MAN HATES EXERCISING TOO

YESSS BRWNDHEK EXACTLY HE FUCKING DOES IT ANYWAY ITS LIKE A ENEMIES TO LOVERS CAT MOUSE RELATIONSHIP AND WE ALL KNOW HE MF LOVES THAT no fr pls leave him alone,,, i knew someone who would constant say “i wanna lick their abs” bestie pls it’s been 2 mins 😭😭🤚🏼 FBWNDHSK EXACTLY JUST APPRECIATE THE SONGS 😭😭

There seems to be some spiders epidemic going helpppp. Also there are so many bugs in general 😭 why can't they leave me alooooooneeeeee, get your own houses! Shockingly there aren't many mosquitoes these days?

NO FR SPIDERMAN : EVERY ONES HOME 😭😭😭 GORRRRL THE MOSQUITOES ARE THOSE THIN ASS ONES THOSE ONES THAT GO STRAIGHT THRU THE NET WINDOWS 😭😭😭 u are a spider whisperer <3

I heard from my Exo-ls friends that some things haven't been continued and they're still waiting for more clues. Yeah Skz doesn't rely on their storyline as heavily, but you can see elements of it throughout their MVs like Side Effects, Astronaut, Levanter. Noeasy and especially Oddinary had huge story behind them with the sound monster, then Felix was the main character in Oddinary we theorised they referenced Alice in Wonderland. Some people dislike lore which is fine, but I don't get the complaints? I think Aespa and Kwangya is a bit cringy and SM is trying too hard to incorporate Kwangya in other artists' music, but the AI and black mamba ideas are actually not bad

EXACTLY THAT !!!! been waiting ages for a proper comeback so we can get answers but sm 🔫🔫 aHHHHHH is what is their universe called?? AYO ALICE IN THE WONDERLAND?? 👁🤚🏼👁 why is it disliked? is seems too coolio??? tbh i didn’t think jyp would be a group to ever have theories yet here we are dbdbd YEAAAH THAT KWANGYA SHIT i get the idea but why not just let groups have their own universes 😭😭😭 i liked the black mamba concept esp!! the two world between AI and them,,, bc kwangya don’t make sense 😭😭😭

I saw the leak I wonder which one is the title? So many leaks with this cb, kinda sad. So the pre orders dropped and tbh I'm not too happy we're back to squares RIP MY SHELF DESIGN also it means smaller photobooks...whack, not to mention they got rid of the lyric postcards and replaced them with ID PHOTOCARDS?! Yeah I get it the whole government thing, but those are so useless. I saw people on twt being happy and I'm like huh? The covers are... whatever, I gave up on interesting Ateez cover designs, lmaooooo. I woke up and I need to complain maybe it's the period and I need to deal with my GO too 😭 I saw USA has some exclusive versions like jewel cases 💀 and the amount of fan signs/video calls already. Maybe I'll win one 😭

YEAH SOMEONE SENT IT TO ME 😭😭 it looks intimidatingly good tho esp the songs,,,, no.2 (this for anyone wondering is not the name no im not gonna reveal it fbdb) sounds better be some bombass beat drop,,,, FBWKDHWK NO BC WHY ARE WE BACK AT SQUARES THEY FUCKING NEVER FIT AND ARE SO THICK 😭😭😭 omg i forgot,,, smaller photo books but watch the photos be so pretty and we can’t even see half of it 😭😭😭ID CARDS RIGHT??? LIKE SOME GOVERNMENT JAIL CELL OR SOMETHING omg did u see the blue version, the poster looks like them in their halateez outfits yeah gave up on the designs 😭😭😭 saw this one by an atiny and the way id buy it all in an is at buy if they were like this,,, BESTIE DID U GET THE SIGNED ONES????

Omg really?! I forgot about The Great Seducer, but now it makes sense that bb!Hwa was based on him

YES ESP FROM THIS GIF

Size kink when she's 2cm taller than San 😭😭😭 you'll never catch me with that kink too.

Lmao but people are on much higher levels though. I play during work when I'm bored which is almost always hhahahdahaghaga. I know bestie I'm going to another party this weekend COME OVER. I missed two ATZ songs because I arrived late I was big mad :////

FHWKDHWK HEY SIZE KINK BUT WITH YUNHO AND MINGI 🔫🔫🔫 JDBWK BESTIE DAMN UR FAST AT GAMING AYO 😭😭😭 I WILL COME HAVE A SEAT FOR ME PUT UR BAG ON IT SO I KNOW ITS RESERVED FBFB 😭😭😭🤚🏼 if u missed fireworks id literally never forgive u 🔫

That sucks you can't see her even though she's coming to your city, fuck uni who needs to be a lawyer! Yes and her response after the backlash was a bit, hmmm... tainted her image for sure, but it was probably her company so it's not her choice, but yeah some companies actually see the backlash and cancel their NFT plans, like A.C.E's company for example

LMFAOOOO 😭😭 i tbh would rather go see dean bc he comes here often dbdbd rEALLY?? omg i just saw it and the ratios of the twt’s fbwnfbsn oH YEAH DEF PPL ARE SAYING GASLIT?? GIRLBOSS?? 😭😭🤚🏼 ACE FTW TBH AT LEAST THEY ACKNOWLEDGE WTF IS WRONG WITH THEM NFTS u know kun was my bias but that mofo also got an nft 😭😭😭 for jay chou 😭😭???? disgrace???

The fake tweets are funny, but yes sometimes I'm just like???

LMFAOOOO RIGHT FREE LIKES I GUESS HIT TWEETS 😭😭

NEED TO SINK MY TEETH INTO SEONGHWA'S COLLARBONES BUT HIS ARMS ARE NEXT! My friends went to Uni Kon and said it was scorching so no wonder the artists were sweating buckets 😭😭😭😭 but I also hate seeing Hwa in the Wang shorts again because that man is 💀💀💀💀💀 https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10736079/Designer-Alexander-Wang-returns-accused-sexually-assaulting-male-transgender-models.html sorry for the Daily Mail link but yeah. So when I saw someone say @ AW on twt PLEASE HIRE SEONGHWA AS YOUR MODEL I WAS LIKE NOOOOOOO DO NOOOOOOT.

JFVWDE DV ANON VAMPIRE ERA STARTING FBFBF 😭😭😭 omg no wonder it must be like one of those hot wind days 🔫🔫 one of my friends korea met btob’s minhyuk (at a fanmeet outside) aND HE WAS SWEATING ALL SHINY BUT HE STILL LOOKED SO FINE FBFBF oh man yeah,,,, when i see idols w him i just want to log out 🔫 i also understand that some idols have to end up being civil to them at events bc they also cant directly say shit,,, the when he first wore it a while back?? in fireworks era and did that one sigh 😭😭 NAURRR PLS NOT AS THAT BRANDS MODEL FBEN SEONGHWA EITHER FOR DIOR OR CHANEL OR YSL NO IN BETWEEN

Oooooh I saw that miss tenelkadjowrites published another Seonghwa fic 👀 I think I need to wait until I'm period-free to read it cause now the vibe is ruined khdhsudhjsbshshs - DV 💖

OHH BESTIE I READ IT IT SOOOO GOOOD 1000% BEST FOR RAINY DAYS DBDB man’s a fuckass tho but <3

also

ALSO

[transthaumaturge]

Squirrel Girl is Super Gay for her Roommate and I Want Everyone to Know

A gay infodump of sensible length by Rachel Tikvah

ALRIGHT, SO The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl was the very first comic that I ever read regularly, back when I was looking for more stories with strong female protagonists but didn't really know why. Back then I just thought I really liked strong female characters and not that I was being gay on main, but now I know the truth. The comic had a 5-year run, and it was the first time that Squirrel Girl, AKA Doreen Green, had had her own series. She had a brief run in the mid-2000's where she was established as someone who could beat up Thanos with her bare hands well, more like squirrel hands but was mostly a joke character that happened to be incredibly buff and had indestructible plot armor. USG decided that Doreen's next major life goal would be to enroll in college to become a computer scientist, because her writer, Ryan North, is really into computer science and they basically gave him free rein over Squirrel Girl canon for five whole years. Like, a solid third of the plots are solved with some kind of computer science smarts. It’s really cool. Anyway this is Doreen in one of the gayest solo pictures I could find of her on short notice, which is also one of the variant covers from the actual series:

And this is her college roommate, Nancy Whitehead:

I'm like, 99% certain that Ryan North intended for them to end up as a couple and Disney!Marvel told him no. So he decided to make them AS GAY FOR EACH OTHER AS POSSIBLE without explicitly saying that they were a couple, and it ended up going under the radar. What follows is evidence for that claim. I’m going to put a "read more” after this so it doesn’t clutter everyone’s dashboards, but please read on if you’re interested. There’s a lot of cute gayness after this point. I’m also going to put all of the image descriptions at the end, since they take up a lot of space and I don’t want to break up the flow of the post. Finally, a quick spoiler alert for one arc in the middle of the series and a couple major plot points from the final few issues.

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

So for a while it was just kind of hinted at that they’re in a relationship, mostly because they were basically domestic life partners for like, two whole years in-universe before the comic run ended. But it really came to a head with an arc that was ran about 2/3 of the way through the series. Some pictures of them being, like, so cute together in general and/or talking about how much they care about each other before I get to that arc, though: 

Also Doreen describes her and Nancy's cat as "co-parented" in one of the last issues:

ANYWAY, THE ARC. THE HYPERTIME ARC. So one of the villains created for the Squirrel Girl run (I think they liked making weird shit canon just because they could) was a dude who went by the name "EpicCrimez". He’s a crime streamer. He livestreams his crimes to an online audience. I don't know. *Throws up hands*

He had some kind of laser gun that he built out of scavenged alien tech but didn't really know what it did, so he shot it at Doreen and Nancy for kicks. It shot them into hypertime, so suddenly the rest of the world was moving at a fraction of the pace that they were. They were moving so quickly that they were slated to live out their entire lives over the span of a single weekend if they didn't figure out how to reverse the effects. And...they did. Live out their entire lives together. For the two of them, they were the only two people in the world. There were other people, but they looked like statues unless you spent a very long time observing them. Doreen and Nancy grew old together in a world where they only had each other. This is an incredibly cute domestic scene from a little while after they found themselves in hypertime:

Gosh, I wish I could find more official art from that arc of them just living together, it was so good. But the point is, they were both old by the time that Nancy figured out how to get them out of hypertime. And it wasn't ideal. Their bio signatures were stored in the gun that EpicCrimez shot, and they could essentially "reboot" their bodies from when they were first shot and send themselves back into the regular timestream. But they wouldn't remember anything about the life that they had shared together. Nancy almost didn't want to do it. She raised the possibility of them just living out the rest of their lives together, because she didn't want to forget their life together. This is the conversation they had:

"I don't regret any of it. I don't want to lose it, and I don't want to lose us." "You're not getting rid of me that easily." Every time I look at that last picture, which took up an entire page of the comic, I start to cry. We’re seeing the final moments of two people who love each other more than anything, who were each other's entire lives, savoring their last moments together and wondering what the future holds. Sacrificing the life that they built together so that their younger selves could live a better, fuller one. Dying in each other’s arms, scared but comforted by the fact that they had each other. And then the arc ends, and they can't remember anything, so the status quo is restored. They have some paintings they made of each other while they were living together in hypertime, but they move on pretty quickly without ever knowing the significance of those lived decades. Still, it's clear in the arcs that follow and the adventures they embarked on afterward that they would die for each other. All of that continues until the end of the last arc. Their shared apartment's been blown up at this point by a supervillain who wanted to ruin Doreen’s life before eventually killing her. And in the aftermath of the fight, they're sifting through the wreckage for anything that survived (don't worry, the cat got out in time) when they find the picture that they painted of themselves during the hypertime arc:

They have a really cute conversation about how this chapter of their life is over, but they're going to be okay and they're going to build a new life together. And then Nancy basically tells Doreen that she can't live without her:

And then Doreen says something super queer-coded about how she likes the idea of the world knowing her secret identity now:

On the very last page of the comic, after all of the action is over and the series is about to end, they're talking to each other in what's supposed to be a twitter thread and Doreen asks Nancy a very thinly veiled question about whether she still wants to spend time with her now that her identity's out. She pretends it's about a class project, but it's really not about the class project. Here's how that conversation goes:

With no knowledge of what happened during the weekend when they shared their entire lives together, without ever having heard Doreen say it to her before, Nancy’s heart still knows which words to choose. "...you're not getting rid of me that easily. <3" I believe that the author of the series, Ryan North, did as much as he possibly could to portray them as a couple without saying it outright. And as the last piece of evidence to support that claim, I want to share a response he wrote in one of the series' last-ever letter columns:

"as for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical "Super" "Man" book without an equally hypothetical "Lois" "Lane"!" It's easy to write off this analysis as wishful thinking, or as a misreading of the subtext. But when the author of the series says that these two characters are meant to always be together and compares them to one of the most famous couples in any comic series ever, it's clear that there's more to it than that. 

Some Additional Thoughts: 1) Doreen and Nancy are both probably bisexual or pansexual, since they both expressed romantic interest in men throughout the series but they’re both clearly interested in each other too. There might be an element of demiromanticism there as well if part of the reason that they’re into each other romantically is because of how emotionally close they’ve become over the years. I want to make sure that that facet of their romantic orientations doesn’t get erased, because bi and pan folks get erased enough as it is. Neither Doreen nor Nancy are lesbians, just super-cool WLWs.

2) HERE’S WHAT THE ISSUE 50 VARIANT COVER LOOKED LIKE

That’s NOT a fun, totally straight way to pose with your platonic gal pal. They’re so incredibly cute together! I have no words! In Closing If you got this far, thank you so much for letting me talk to you about a comic that’s very important to me, and a couple in that comic that I care about very much. I spent way too long making this (six hours and counting), mostly in writing the image descriptions, and I’m very proud of my work but very tired now. Hyperfixation is a hell of a drug. If this resonated with you, please consider reblogging it so that more folks can see it. If not, even a like is nice. I’d also love to engage with people who have their own thoughts, so feel free to leave some comments in the notes if you’ve got an idea/a reaction/any additional cute Doreen/Nancy scenes that you’d like to share with me. At any rate, this post has gone on long enough and I don’t want to ask y’all to read any more than you have to. So have a great day, good morning / afternoon / night, and stay safe. Thanks again for reading! ~Rachel Tikvah, AKA @transthaumaturge Image Descriptions: Image 1: [ID: Squirrel Girl, a young woman with light skin, is posing in front of a brick wall that she seems to have crashed through, leaving a perfect outline of her body. She’s facing away but looking backwards over her shoulder at us and smiling. She’s flexing upward with her right arm and has her left fist resting on her left hip. Her sidekick, a squirrel named Tippy-Toe, is standing in the cutout she left in the wall and is making the same exact pose while wearing a light pink bow around her neck. Squirrel Girl is wearing brown lace-up boots, fur-lined hot pants over grey tights, and a brown fur-lined jacket with sleeves that come up to her forearms and a symbol of an acorn embroidered into the back. She’s also wearing a hairband with fake squirrel ears on it over short reddish-brown hair. She has a large squirrel tail coming out of her hot pants that sweeps down in a curve behind her lower legs. The illustration is drawn so that everything is bathed in the light of a sunset, and Doreen is casting shadows on the wall in front of her.] Image 2: [ID: Two frames depicting a scene between Doreen and Nancy in their college dorm room, with many cardboard boxes still not unpacked and sitting on a bare bed mattress. Nancy Whitehead is a young woman with dark brown skin and short, curly black hair. She's wearing black tights, a white dress-top, and a yellow cardigan over that. Her arms are crossed as she holds her white cat, Mew, against her chest. Doreen is wearing grey tights and a black long-sleeve shirt with a wide collar and white stripes across the chest. She's holding Tippy-Toe up to Nancy with both hands so she can see her better. The following dialogue ensues: Nancy: "A squirrel? But weren't you the one who was all about pets not being allowed in--" Doreen: "Yeah, I know. But this really interesting person I met today told me that obeying an unjust law is itself unjust." Nancy: "...You know, I was worried I'd get a weird roommate, but you're all right, Doreen Green."] Image 3: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are both sitting on a lavender-pink couch in nightclothes. Doreen has short, orange hair. She is wearing a loose-fitting grey long-sleeve shirt and steel-blue cutoff shorts; Nancy has cropped black hair. She is wearing a dark purple top with sleeves that come down to her upper arms, and loose-fitting navy-blue shorts that come down to her lower thighs. Doreen is side-hugging Nancy as she says, with an ecstatically happy smile, “Nancy, you’re the greatest. You know that, right?” Nancy gives Doreen a full smile as she responds, “I’d always suspected it, but it is nice to have it confirmed.”] Image 4: [ID: Nancy is shown from the shoulders up. She has short, curly black hair. She’s wearing large, disc-shaped gold dangle earrings, and a red jacket with prominent shoulders and a yellow collar. She’s fixing the observer with an angry, determined stare as she says, “She knows this man wouldn’t dream about betraying her, or he’d have to answer to me.”] Image 5: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are eating breakfast at the brown, circular kitchen table in their apartment. Doreen’s wearing a skin-tight athletic crop top that’s striped in black, red, white, and blue. Her arm muscles are well-defined and clearly visible as she puts a spoon in her mouth, closing her eyes as she does so. She has a bowl of cereal in front of her, and half a banana in front of that. Nancy is sitting to her left in a pink camisole top that’s also exposing her muscles, scrolling through something on her smartphone. Her hair is in a yellow fabric wrap that’s knotted on one side of her head. A cup of coffee sits in front of her. The clear blue sky is visible through the window centered on the wall behind them.] Image 6: [ID: Nancy and Doreen are facing away from the vantage point, walking towards an Empire State University campus building and holding hands with their fingers intertwined. Nancy is wearing a long knee-length grey coat and black knee-high boots, with a baby-blue side bag hanging from her left shoulder. Doreen is wearing a magenta sweatshirt with the periwinkle-lined hood down, light brown form-fitting denim pants, and black ankle-high boots, with a dark brown side bag hanging from her right shoulder. Trees and bushes hem the walkway in on either side. The building in front of them is dark red, with glass doors and a row of floor-to-ceiling windows on the second floor. Doreen is saying “...we’re just going to have to take the long way around.”] Image 7: [ID: Doreen is facing towards the vantage point and is visible from the legs up, standing in front of a pile of rubble in the background. She’s wearing high-waisted light blue shorts over black tights, and a red windbreaker with sleeves ending at her upper arms that’s opened to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. Tippy-Toe is sitting on her shoulder. There are two people facing Doreen, each slightly in frame and silhouetted in black against the light of the setting sun. Doreen is fixing them with an angry, determined expression, resting her right fist at her hip while she gesticulates with her left hand and says, “So! I don’t know about you all, but Melissa kidnapping my friend and blowing up my life and my house and almost blowing up my co-parented cat makes me feel like giving her a piece of my mind. Friends...”] Image 8: [ID: A full comic page. EpicCrimez is looking like a dork in a green and black skin-tight jumpsuit, bright red ski goggles, and a green wig cap with his brown hair sticking out the back in a mullet. He’s standing inside a jewelry store and holding up a fist of expensive gems and pearls-on-strings as holds up his smartphone and speaks into it. He’s facing off against Squirrel Girl, with her allies Koi Boi and Chipmunk Hunk on her right, and Nancy and Brain Drain on the left. The following scene ensues: EpicCrimez: “And for those of you just tuning in, welcome to another successful heist by your boy EpicCrimez, streaming live! Now with 10% more live crime action than any other streamer! Don’t forget to like and subscribe!! I know some of you in EpicCrimez Nation have been forgetting to do that lately. Not acceptable.” Squirrel Girl: “You picked the wrong small business to rob, crime-initiator! Because this mall is protected by super heroes.” Brain Drain: “HELLO” SG: “And also an unrelated civilian friend I brought along too!” Nancy: (Not looking up from her phone) “ ‘Sup.” EC: “Check it out--Squirrel Girl and her miscellaneous friends are here! It’s action you won’t find on any other channel!” SG: “Are you...streaming your robberies?” (Nancy pockets her phone) EC: “Yeah I am! For money reasons! And with you “heroes” in it, I’ll make even more!” SG: (Whispering to Nancy:) “Question: a fight scene just gets him more traffic, which lets him profit from this crime even more--so does this mean we don’t fight him?” N: (Whispering back:) “I feel like letting him go causes more harm, but I look forward to us teasing apart the moral implications of this later.” SG: “Nice.” SG: (No longer whispering:) “I’ll like and subscribe, EpicCrimez! I’ll like fighting crime, and subscribe... to a worldview wherein the strong protect the weak!” EC: “Oh my gosh, are you like wholesome Spider-Man or something??” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Wholesome Spider-Man, Wholesome Spider-Man/Does whatever a wholesome spider can/Is he tough?/Listen bud/He’s here to hear you talk about your day and tell you it’ll all be fine while taking you out for your favorite meal for dinner because he knows you deserve it.”] Image 9: [ID: Another full comic page. Doreen and Nancy are in their apartment together, and their friends Tomas and Brian (AKA Chipmunk Hunk and Brain Drain respectively) are frozen as they look down at the machine that Nancy is on her knees in front of, working on. Nancy, barefoot, is wearing cerulean-blue athletic pants, a black long-sleeve spandex shirt without shoulders, and narrow-framed glasses. Her hair is partially covered by a yellow cloth head wrap tied on the left side, with black dreadlocks spilling out the side and back. The machine in front of her is made of dull grey metal, about a meter tall and roughly circular. Wires dangle out of a hatch that Nancy is fiddling with. Doreen is wearing a flowing, dark-purple pantsuit with wide, ankle-length legs and a halter top with the sleeves tied off at her shoulders. Her shoes are light-brown ankle boots with a horizontal gap on the bridge of each foot. Her wavy orange hair is parted in the middle and down past her shoulders. She looks incredibly cute. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “What do you think?” Nancy: “I think--come on you stupid screw--I think we’re still years away from this thing working, if it ever does. Who knew time machine construction is really hard, except of course for everyone who has attempted it?” (She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand) D: “Hah! No, I mean my new outfit.” N: (Looking up and checking her gf out:) “Doreen! You look amazing!!” D: “Liberated it from a very expensive department store uptown!” N: (Now standing) “Tony paid for it?” D: Tony will eventually discover he was kind enough to leave some expensive jewelry in trade, yes. I pinned a note to him so he knows.” N: “There really are advantages to being friends with billionaire playboy genius philanthropists.” D: “Right?!” N: (Taking Doreen’s hands in hers:) “It’s a shame we can’t take a picture of you all dolled up.” D: “Not without standing still for a few months, yeah. But I was thinking about that. I picked up something else at another store downtown. Thought maybe it could help us with that.” (Holding up a shopping bag with one hand while still holding onto Nancy’s hand with the other:) “Nancy Whitehead, I thought you and I might take up painting sometime.” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Tony Stark moves from meeting to meeting, his body accumulating dozens of notes every second. He sighs. Stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen. But then he smiles, because after all...stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen.”] Images 10-16: [ID: Several pages worth of comic frames, posted together to depict one scene. Doreen and Nancy are now old women, likely in their seventies or eighties. Doreen has short, grey hair. She’s wearing a tan button-up waistcoat and an orange ascot, brown flats with an olive-green skirt, knee-length and softly pleated. Her tail is sticking out the back of her skirt over the top, bushy and brown but with stiffer, less-dense hair. Nancy has her grey-black hair done up in a ponytail, a mass of tight curls behind her head. She’s wearing thin oval glasses, black dress pants, black flats, and a lavender cardigan with a flower motif along the edges, open to show the yellow-orange top underneath. They’re standing in front of a completed time machine. On either side are tall pieces of machinery, and in the middle is a round, flat metal dais hooked up to everything else with snaking cables. The following scene ensues: Nancy: “So...this is it, babe. The new machine.” Doreen: “Your secret project! Nancy, it looks like you started from scratch!” N: That’s because I did. I finally realized our old machine was never going to work. Maybe if we had a few more decades, but...there’s no time. And given that our backs are to the wall, I took a risk. I disassembled the gun right down to the metal, and examined all the parts. And I did find something: a data chip. Doreen, the gun stored our bio signatures when it us.” D: “What are you saying?” N: “I’m saying my new machine won’t send us back in time, and we’ll still have lost a weekend of real time. But it will restore our bodies to normal time.” D: (Hugging Nancy tight:) “Nancy! You saved us!!” N: (Resting her hands on Doreen’s shoulders:) “Not--quite. There’s a catch, Doreen. Our bodies will make it...but we won’t. Look, Doreen...I’m an old woman. I’ve spent most of my life in hypertime. This wasn’t how I saw my life going, but...I don’t regret any of it. I don’t want to lose it, and I don’t want to lose us.” D: “I don’t understand.” N: “It’s like restoring from backup. Our bodies will be restored to how they were the moment we were first hit. But--that necessarily includes our brains, too. Everything we’ve done since we entered hypertime--our entire lives spent together...we’ll forget.” (She looks at Doreen in distress) D: “I don’t either, Nancy. You’ve been the most important person in my life. But if we do go back--we can do it again. All of it. It might not happen again quite the same way, but--well, like you say...we’ll have all the time in the world.” N: (Their faces inches apart, they both tilt their heads down and smile sadly:) “Twist my arm, why don’t you.” (They both step onto the dais holding hands, and blue energy starts to ripple around them:) “You filled up Spidey’s web-shooters before we go?” D: “Yep. Again.” N: “You and me, saving the world.” D: “Well,” (holding Nancy’s hand in both of her own) "No reason we can’t do it twice.” N: “You know, there’s a chance things could turn out differently, now that we’ll have video games to distract us. In 40 years we might decide we don’t like hanging out after all.” D: (Hugging Nancy even tighter than before as the energy from the time machine starts to envelop them, resting her face in the nape of Nancy’s neck:) “Nah. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”] Image 17: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are sifting through the charred rubble of their apartment as night starts to fall around them. Doreen is wearing faded blue jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a Captain America star in the middle. Over top of the shirt, she’s wearing a dark reddish-brown leather vest with four metal studs at the four points of the folded-out collar. Nancy is wearing black tights and a light green long-sleeve shirt with olive-green sleeves. The front of the shirt has a picture of Cat-Thor, Cat God of Cat Thunder’s head on it. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “So I know we’re only a few hours into it, Nancy, but I think my identity being public isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought.” Nancy: “Oh?” D: “Yeah, Tony’s given me lots of tips, and it does honestly help to know that my parents are protected by a robot tree with laser eyes and my friends live in a city with the most super heroes per square mile.” N: “Most super villains too, but--Hold on. I think I found it.” (Nancy lifts a picture frame out of the wreckage, charred around the edges but otherwise no worse for wear. It has a painting inside of it of Doreen and Nancy, arm-in-arm, from hypertime. Doreen is wearing the lavender pantsuit from before, and Nancy is wearing a tight-fitting lilac dress.) “...And it looks like you and I made it through just fine.”] Images 18-19: [ID: Two later comic panels from the same scene. They’re wearing the same outfits, but Nancy’s now cradling her white cat, Mew, in the crook of her left arm while she holds onto the picture frame with her right hand. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “Come on, let’s talk about it! If we’re starting a new chapter in our lives, and we can decide what’s in it, what do you want it to contain?” Nancy: “Doreen...” D: “What are the three things you can’t live without, Nancy Whitehead?” N: (Holding up the picture so that Doreen can see it:) “Fine. If you must know, all this girl needs to be happy are cats and squirrels and knitting and computers and friends and secret tattoos and super heroes and lots and lots of love. Also food and shelter. And water. And internet.” D: “That’s more than three things.”] Image 20: [ID: Same scene as before, a single frame with a close-up on Doreen from her chest upwards. Doreen cups her chin with one of her hands and says, “Honestly--I thought about it. I really did. But I realized that where I am now, I’m safe and I’m loved and I kinda like the idea of not having to lie to people anymore, you know? Even if it is just a lie of omission. I want to share my whole self with the world. I don’t want to have to hide who I am anymore.”] Image 21: [ID: Something resembling a twitter thread, with dialogue between Nancy and Doreen stacked chronologically as horizontal boxes. Their respective names and handles are at the top of each of their comments. Nancy is Nancy W. and @sewwiththeflo, Doreen is Squirrel Girl and @unbeatablesg. The following conversation ensues: Nancy: “You think I’d leave you high and dry??” Doreen: “I think I don’t want our lateness harming your grades and therefore harming your post-secondary education or career choices and therefore harming your ENTIRE LIFE?!” “So yeah I think you should switch to someone else, real talk. I honestly don’t mind, I promise.” Nancy: “Please. If there’s one thing I know about you, about me, and about how we spend our future together, it’s this. Doreen Green...” “...you’re not getting rid of me that easily. <3″] Image 22: [ID: A paragraph of text, black text on a yellow background. “As for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical “Super” “Man” book without an equally hypothetical “Lois” “Lane”!”] Image 23: [ID: A group picture of Squirrel Girl and friends sitting down on a grassy hill and watching the sunset together. Kraven the Hunter is in the foreground for some reason, looking almost directly at the camera. In the background we see Koi Boi, Mary Mahajan, Chipmunk Hunk, Brain Drain, and Mew the Cat. In the middle of the shot, Doreen and Nancy sit together. Doreen is in her superhero outfit with Tippy-Toe on her right shoulder, and Nancy is in a yellow cardigan and jeans on Doreen’s left. They’re holding hands, fingers intertwined, as Nancy leans against Doreen with her whole body. Their heads are tilted inward towards each other, the side of Doreen’s head touching the side of Nancy’s, as they look off into the distance together.]

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 01

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: some profanity, a side character who is a dick about Reid, set in season 06, self beta’d

Word Count: 2437

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

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Chapter 01

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March 2010

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Dr. Spencer Reid

(Current Tenure: California Institute of Technology): Fred Kavli Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics; Director, Walter Burke Institute for Theoretical Physics, Department Head of Mathematics, Physics, and Astronomy at Caltech.

- (Degrees, in order) Ph.D. Mathematics, Caltech, 1995; Ph.D. Chemistry, Caltech, 1997; M.A. Nuclear Science, MIT, 1999; Ph.D. Engineering, MIT, 2000; M.A. Sociology, Columbia University, 2001; M.A. Philosophy, Georgetown, 2001; Ph.D. Psychology, Georgetown, 2002; M.A. Applied Analytics, Columbia University, 2003; M.A. Socio Economic Statistics, MIT, 2004; M.A. Geology, Caltech, 2006; Ph.D. Geography, Caltech, 2006; M.A. Economics, Caltech, 2008; M.A. Brain and Cognitive Sciences, Caltech, 2009

- (Teaching positions, in order) Professor of Mathematics, Caltech, 1995-1997, Professor of Mathematics and Statistical Analysis, MIT, 1998-2005, Visiting Associate, Georgetown, 1999-2002; Professor of Chemical Engineering, MIT, 2002-05; Kavli Professor, Mathematics, Caltech, 2005-; Professor of Theoretical Physics and Mathematics, 2006-; Deputy Chair, 2005-; Director, 2008-.

“Jesus.”

The dossier is just an information sheet; no photo ID, no news articles beyond text component pieces, but it is a thick stack of correspondence and case consultations that S.S.A Aaron Hotchner holds in his hands.

“Five Ph.D.’s and eight separate M.A.’s in fourteen years? What was he doing before that?”

“Who knows? You don’t earn a Ph.D. overnight, even if his accommodation sheet makes ‘em look like they pop up like mushrooms,” Mark Anderson says, audibly tired through the phone speaker on his desk. He was one of the Unit Chief's from the teams at the FBI L.A. field office, who’s phone number was given to him by an old friend, Sam Cooper -- another BAU team leader. Hotch had hit dead end after dead end on this case, and sitting at his desk in Quantico, Virginia, he looks down at the recommended consultant’s extensive list of degrees and teaching positions with a building headache behind his dark eyes. He wasn’t a fan of Anderson, or his briskness, but at this point he’d take anything he could get. “I’m pretty sure that man has never lived outside an academic field. He’s a handful, runs my agents up the damn wall, but he knows his stuff.”

“I hope so. I’ve been on the phone the past three days trying to find someone with a background in Obscure Cognitive Linguistics,” Hotch reads from a separate file, filled with violent images and depraved acts described in morbid detail. “Our unsub sites a very particular thesis about a Study of Language from a Cognitive and Developmental Law, and I keep getting sent to experts in adjacent fields. I don’t see anything in this Dr. Reid’s background about language.”

“Oh, trust me, Hotch -- you’ll get more than you bargained for. This is your guy. He’s basically an expert on everything, and if he doesn’t know anything about languages I’ll eat my tie. He never shuts up.”

Frowning at the speaker phone, Hotch keeps his comments to himself. He’s sure that Anderson probably doesn’t appreciate having an old professor puttering around the field office, but that didn’t mean he had to insult the man. Especially when he was there as a consultant. 

“Okay, fine. Thank you. I’ll give him a call now-”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that. Just send him an email. Trust me.” Anderson all but groans like a petulant child. Graining on Hotch’s nerves excruciatingly.

“I’m sure he’s busy enough with his students, he doesn’t need to be fielding emails from the FBI,” Hotch hedged, still frowning. 

“Not too busy to write you a dissertation in reply, I’m sure, but you’ll at least get the answers you need. You could be on the phone with him a half hour before you get to what you called about. Hopefully it won’t take you too long to sift through.” 

Alright, now he is done listening to the other agent.

“Right. Thanks, Mark.”

“Anyti-” Hotch hangs up on him before the man could make any other remarks. His patience is non-existent after the past week and this extremely brutal case that only seems to compound exponentially in it’s viciousness with each passing day. If Anderson felt like being an asshole to some old man with nothing better to do than rack up Ph.D.’s, he could do it on his own time. Hotch needed help, and this man seemed to be the only person around who might be able to finally do so.

Dr. Reid’s office number is in front of him, as well as about three different lab location phone numbers, and one email address connected to the school faculty. He considers for a moment just ignoring Anderson’s advice and calling the old professor, but he has a meeting with his Department Chief, Strauss, in twenty minutes and the team would be arriving from canvasing the dumpsites soon. 

So with a suffering sigh, Hotch pulls up a new email (for what feels like the millionth time for this case) and composes a standard correspondence introduction. Who he is, credentials, case numbers and specifics as far as clearance rates for civilians go, and then finally the questions he needs answered. There is something about this particular thesis that has to be very tongue in cheek to the unsub, saying something that isn’t really there, and this could just be another dead end -- but if it led to them saving a victim from becoming another dead body, he is willing to give it one last try. 

Thank you for your time,  S.S.A. Aaron Hotchner Unit Chief, Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI Quantico, VA. 

Then he hits send, and leaves the response up to the universe.

-

The team came up with nothing fruitful. Strauss proceeded to ream Hotch six ways from Sunday for wasting valuable bureau resources and coming up with zero results. His day was spinning down the drain in a hellish cyclone when he sits down behind his desk in his office an hour after leaving it. Case files still piled to one side, grotesque photos stacked within them, and Aaron Hotchner wants nothing more than for them to disappear. For the case to be solved and to be able to go home to his son and his quiet house. But there was no break in sight, no new information, nothing.

Except a new email in his inbox.

Agent Hotchner, 

I know that thesis paper well. I can help you.

All air seems to have been sucked from the room as Hotch reads the words a couple of times, not quite comprehending after the morning he has had that someone wasn’t giving him more bad news. That this Dr. Reid said he could help him. 

 A single click of the email opens up the correspondence reply, and the agent is met with a giant wall of text. Scrolling down for pages, and a quick skim of the material shows such a complex, comprehensive amount of information that there is no way it’s just copy and pasted from any one source. Or even several. It’s a long email spanning a vast number of pages, covering every topic he had asked about (and then some).

The thesis paper, the tongue-in-cheek citation from the unsub, how this killer is acting like he’s being clever when it’s really ‘very obvious what he’s doing, as long as you know the paper’ and detailed links and quotations and references to locations and side tangents on items mentioned that could be evidence to look for or weapons of choice, and so much else Hotch’s head feels like it’s spinning. Like reading the cliffnotes of a complex spy novel, with all the spoilers in one place. 

It takes him half an hour to read through everything Dr. Reid sent, meaning the professor had to have been typing a million words a minute from the moment Hotch had emailed him to get everything replied so quickly, and Hotch was baffled to realize that an old man with a handful of Ph.D.’s and no FBI training just solved his case.

Not a figment of speech.

Dr. Reid just solved the case, without even holding the file in his hands.

Hotch is dialing a phone number on his speed dial without even looking away from the screen. 

“Garcia? Call the team into the briefing room, and phone SWAT to mobilize. We’re going down to the riverfront in thirty minutes.”

“--Wait, what are you talking about? Did you figure out the unsub’s code?”

Not me, Aaron thought to himself, standing up and printing Dr. Reid’s email after forwarding it to the entire team and their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia. He didn’t have time to explain it that many times, and the amount of information in that single email would be enough to send any of them tumbling heels over head. But it solved every aspect of their case. Hook, line, and sinker.

And the clock was ticking. 

“Now, Garcia.”

He rushes from the room with the stack of files in his hands and his laptop open to Dr. Reid’s email. Not even thinking to thank the man for his help as he heads across the bullpen with profound determination.

They have work to do.

-

They catch the unsub that very day. 

Quick, efficient, completely by surprise. They saved Amanda Sutton and another girl they hadn’t even known was missing. No one died. None of his team was hurt. The unsub hadn’t confessed, but Rossi and Morgan had played him like a fiddle in interrogation and now all of his team members were walking to the elevators leaving for a long weekend where they wouldn’t have to worry about serial killers or another dead soul on their conscience. Today was a win. As close to a win as they ever can get, in their line of work. 

And it isn’t until he’s back at his desk, the hours ticking into the night, that he opens up his email and there in his inbox is the very reply that started everything. Dr. Spencer Reid. CalTech Department Head. Professor of everything under the sun. Expert on anything, even the obscure. 

The reason Hotch will get to spend the weekend with his son, without the overbearing aftershocks of a case gone so horribly bad plaguing him. 

His hands are moving before he can stop them. Opening up the email, typing out a response to Dr. Reid thanking him for his help. Relaying what happened, detail by detail much in the same fashion he had completed the paperwork piled on his desk. Letting him know that his information really did end up helping them. All of it. Even the side tangents. 

I don’t know how I can ever thank you for the extensive consideration you gave this case, or how to explain how it solved it so seamlessly, but your time and effort does not go unnoticed by me. 

Okay, so maybe he fluffs it up a bit more than the dreadful bullet-point list descriptions required by the Deputy Chief and the Director and SWAT Team justification reports. Just so it doesn’t look so inadequate in comparison to the man’s thesis-paper-length email he sent to aide Hotch and his team. The passion he has for his work leaps off the page, but it was a lot -- and if the old man put that much dedication into a basic FBI correspondence email, then he was probably used to it being a thankless effort. 

Hotch sends the reply, and continues with his work. He always takes a bulk of the paperwork, so his team can go home and rest and recharge. He needs them at their best for each case, and if that means he spends a couple hours longer after when they finish a case, it is worth every minute. But this time, once he finishes, he gets to take the coveted time off as well. 

It’s as he’s finishing up, everything stacked neatly and ready to be dropped at records, in the mailroom, Strauss’s office, the director’s, and he’s about to log off his laptop that he sees a surprise -- Dr. Reid replied to him, again.

It’s much more brief this time.

Agent Hotchner,

I’m so glad I was able to help you. 

You are one of the only agents to reach out and tell me how the case went after my consultation, and I’m very grateful to know that my information actually helped your team catch the killer. I know I tend to spout facts at random, but I do have methods to my madness and it’s such a nice change to correspond with someone who understands that. 

My services are always at your disposal. Anytime. Whatever I can do to help.

Sincerely, Dr. Spencer Reid

Hotch types out a brief reply. Thanking him for his offer, for lending him his expertise, and letting him know in not so many words --

I’ll have to take you up on that. 

He’d be a fool not to. Someone with that much knowledge and the ability to connect it all in the way Dr. Reid had in the span of an hour? He could be a real asset to the BAU, as a permanent consultant, even through email correspondence. 

He sends the reply just as he stands to leave. Turning off his office light, and his chest feels lighter for the interaction. For giving the professor that sense of assurance that what he had to say did in fact do some real good. Hotch even finds himself smiling softly, sadly, that he has also found a little bit of solace in helping another lonely old man across the country find a sense of purpose that night. Who was working late, as well, despite it being the end of the week. Speaking to not much waiting for him back at home, in whatever shape ‘home’ takes for the man. But Hotch can relate to that, too. Jack is at Jessica’s until the morning, and there is nothing at his apartment to greet him but silence and bare walls and memories he’d rather not dote on. Maybe this Dr. Spencer Reid is in a similar boat, finding comfort in his work when he can. He certainly seems to, with the amount of time he’s poured into his doctorates and degrees. In the number of departments he runs and monitors. 

Hotch can’t help but feel a connection, a companionship between empty offices. Thousands of miles apart, but maybe -- possibly -- at least similar in that aspect.

Not so alone, even if only for a brief moment.

-

(tbc...)

-

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls

[ccelinewritess]

the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

-

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn’t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

-

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy 

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

-

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

-

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

-

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

-

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

-

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

yn

-

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

-

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

-

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

-

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

-

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

-

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

-

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

-

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

-

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

-

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

-

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

-

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

-

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

-

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

-

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

-

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

-

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure. 

-

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

-

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.