#my girl cuts her own hair in the bathroom when she gets sick of it getting caught up in her mask and hood

[tbcanary]

curly wolfcut steph. that’s all.

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I LOVE the comic you posted of the reader going to a club pre-relationship! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 to that of all of them going to a club together. With some jealousy, like when the reader goes to the bathroom on her way back she is getting flirted with by a random guy and the marauders reaction. Feel free to ignore

(Also I adore you comic that make my day every time I have re-read all of them at least 3 times!)

Hi lovely, thank you so much ! This took me forever to get to sorry, hope you enjoy it <3

part 1

cw: alcohol, unwanted/nonconsensual touch

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Your shriek cuts through the loud music, and you turn to Remus with an open-mouthed grin. 

“This is my favorite song!” you shout. 

He laughs. In the past half hour, four songs have been your favorite. “Yeah?” he asks. 

You nod happily, throwing your hands above your head as you spin. You’re tipsy twirly, surprisingly sprightly considering you’ve downed enough shots to get Remus hammered, and he’s got several inches on you and has been drinking since he was thirteen. 

Sirius is in a similar state. Remus and James have been steering the two of you around for most of the night, but now James has put himself in charge of crisis prevention, playing goalie between either of you and the bar. 

“Oh be fun, Prongsie,” Sirius wheedles after getting spun around by the shoulders for the upteenth time. “I know you can be fun.” 

“I am fun,” James agrees. “I have my most fun when I’m not cleaning up your vomit. Go dance with y/n.” 

You’re game for this plan, giving Sirius an enticing smile and moving your hips to the music in a way that makes Remus’ mouth go completely dry. He knows he’s not the only person in this club who’s noticed, but thankfully the little circle the four of you have made in the dance floor stays clear of intruders. Thus far, your prediction has proved correct; no other men have come up to you with your roommates around. He’s not particularly distraught about it. 

You seem oblivious to your own allure, laughing when Sirius hurries toward you like a called puppy. You take his hands, letting him twirl you around and then holding your arms up to twirl him in return, and at the chorus, you both jump around so that your hair flies all about. Your laughter is loud and sparkling. Remus sips his drink, entranced. 

There are two more favorite songs before you careen towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He hastily grips you by the elbow, wary of a fall, but you seem to have done this intentionally. You beam up at him, your smile lopsided and far less shy than anything he’s ever seen from you. 

“M’gonna go to the toilet,” you tell him, one word leading into the next like they’ve been sloppily tied together with string. 

“Oh, okay.” Of its own volition, Remus’ hand coasts up the back of your upper arm, then down to your elbow again. “Do you think you’re gonna be sick, honey?” 

Your face screws up as if this is taboo to mention. “What? No.” You make a funny pffting sound. “I’m miles off from that, I’m fantastic, it’s just,” you lower your voice, expression turning grave, “I think it’s time to break the seal,” you tell him meaningfully. 

This time it’s entirely intentional, but he also can’t help it. You’re just too cute. Remus sets his hand on the top of your head affectionately, grinning at you. “Alright, love, sounds good.” He looks around for the women’s bathroom, locating it a short distance away. “Want one of us to go with and wait outside for you?” It’s not like he can’t see it from here, but a girl as intoxicated as you probably shouldn’t be going anywhere by herself. 

“No, no, I’ve got it,” you say, patting his chest lightly. “Back soon.” 

It’s like you’ve disappeared into a mist, the way you fade into the crowd so quickly. It takes Remus a moment to spot the top of your head moving towards the bathroom. You turn around just before you go in, giving him a dazzling smile paired with a dorky thumbs-up. 

“Where’d she go?” James asks, holding his drink aloft while Sirius grabs for it. “And what has made you smile like that, Moony?” 

Remus makes a dismissive sound, but he feels his face heat as he takes a long sip of his own drink. James’ grin widens. 

“Ooh,” Sirius catches on. “What’d she say to you?” 

“Nothing. She’s gone to the toilet.”

Sirius’ kohl-rimmed eyes bulge, and James laughs, following his train of thought immediately. “Did she ask you to follow her? I didn’t think that was your style, you rake.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re depraved.” 

It’s not long before you reappear, catching Remus’ eye on your way out of the bathroom like you knew he’d be looking. You give him another of those heart-stuttering smiles and head his way, weaving your way through the crowd with a drunken expertise. 

A happy glow of anticipation starts up in his chest, but you’re intercepted on the way. Another head, taller, steps in front of you, blocking Remus’ view. He cranes his neck, but he can’t see you. 

He must make some sound or simply be emanating discontent, because James is back at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” 

“Someone’s talking to her. I can’t see her anymore.” He sounds ridiculous, like an overprotective douche, but he can’t imagine one can be too cautious when a drunk girl is surrounded by guys in a place like this. Remus is being purely practical. 

“Let’s go get her.” James is on board immediately, taking Sirius by the elbow and beginning to bulldoze his way through the crowd. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand just before the gap closes behind them, dragging him along. 

Remus hears you before he sees you. 

“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not looking for anything.” Your voice sounds slightly tight, and Remus knows you well enough to tell by the sound of it that you’re giving whoever you’re talking to one of your big, fake smiles. 

A man’s voice says, low and sure, “You don’t mean that—” and that’s as far as he gets, because you interrupt to exclaim, with no small amount of relief, “My friends!” 

“Hi, sweetheart,” James says, and you’re right in front of them. You’ve cleaned up your makeup in the bathroom, the eyeliner that had transferred sweatily under your eyes now pristine again, and your smile is indeed giant and thin-lipped as you look between them and the man in front of you, subtly flaring your eyes. He reads the look clearly: Help, please!

Remus looks you over. The man has his hands on your hips and one of yours is around his wrist, a cautious touch. Sirius takes care of that quickly, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the wrist closest to him and removing it like it’s a piece of trash he found on the street. 

“Do you two know each other?” Remus asks. Without permission, his voice comes out gruff and accusatory. 

“No,” you say speedily, taking a step towards Sirius. Towards them. “I was just on my way back to you guys, actually.” 

“We were talking.” The man looks between the three of them scrutinously, like they’re threats. Remus doesn’t hate the thought of being a threat to this guy. 

“Sounded like you were done talking, mate.” James smiles easily. You’d have to really know him to hear the sharpness in his tone. 

Sirius snakes an arm around your waist, but you don’t shy from the bold touch. In fact, you lean into him, your smile slowly beginning to resemble the genuine article. “Wanna get another drink, baby?” Sirius asks you, gaze salacious. 

“Mhm.” You bob your head eagerly, and he leads you off, James and Remus following. “Thanks for the help,” you tell them as soon as you’re away. “He didn’t, like, do anything, but it was a bit intimidating.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” James replies, expression going a bit stormy now that he’s done feigning lightness. “And I wouldn’t say he didn’t do anything, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you like that.” 

“It’s whatever,” you wave it off so easily Remus’ heart gives a little throb. “What’re we drinking?” 

“Oh, that was a ploy,” Remus says. “We’re done drinking, remember?” 

You pout, and Sirius hugs your side sympathetically (entirely for your benefit, Remus is certain). “You mean we’re done,” he sneers. “You and Prongs get to have however much you want. Who made you king of the beer?” 

“I think you did, actually,” Remus says thoughtfully. “At Mary’s New Year’s party, remember?” 

Sirius sniffs, presumably because he does not.

[yung-notorious]

FIRST RICH BABY DADDY IN MIAMI, IM UNSTOPPABLE!- ♡

— you know how they say friendships never make it pass miami? — feat. satoru gojo

+18 MDI. WARNINGS. baddie!reader x rich!gojo, porn with plot, this is not going to go the way you think, false Identity, girls just wanna have fun, f*cking 4 the bag, drama & mess, miami club scene, miami testing y’all friendship, vip sections & bottle girls, high-value men, instagram models, drinking, high-fashion, unprotected sex, creampie, praise & body worship, gojo satoru is his own warning, descriptions of nudity. notes. word count 6k. title: Flo Milli - Edible (A03 link)

photo’s sourced from pinterest, credits to original ♡

“Hold the fuck on!” You holler in response to the repeated banging on the bathroom door. A line of people had formed behind the door trying to rush y’all out.

“Fuck Utahime don’t sit on the floor it’s disgusting.” You reach under her arms to help support her weight as she continues to throw her stomach up into the toilet.

“I’m so fucked up...” She dry heaves then coughs, tears starting to brim around her eyes. She's crouching down over the toilet, hands gripping the edges of the rim, this was fine, it’s okay, as long as she didn’t get her knees on the sticky wet floor she could wash her hands in the sink and use the sanitizer you keep in your purse.

You hold her hair up as she continues to get the rest of the toxins out of her system, long thick jet black hair wrapped around your knuckles, you two always joke about how if she ever went broke enough she could cut her hair and sell it.

“Wait a fucking minute!” You holler again, more knocks and bangs hitting the door. You were really getting pissed off now, as big as this club was, you knew there were plenty of other bathrooms for them to use. You weren’t leaving till your girl could walk out on her two feet, fuck if it was ignorant…let them say something to y’all when y’all walk out. You dare them.

“I’m so sorry yo…” she cries out…she wasn’t even pissy drunk…you couldn’t figure out why she was throwing up. Y’all barely drunk before y’all got here and only had two henny shots after making it inside. Could have been the food at the seafood bar y’all went too earlier…y’all were in the states so it couldn’t have been the tap water so what the fuck was it?

“It’s cool…just…c’mon…” You pat her back, she’s crying now and you're growing frantic. They’re still banging on the door and she won’t stop. This was a fucked position to be in and you don’t know what to do…if y’all call for help they’d just kick y’all out then y’all would really be fucked up standing on the curb while she’s sick as a dog.

“I can’t…I really can’t…” She babbles out, fat tears running down her face. You love her to death but this was gross, you don’t do throw up…the bathroom was gross, the floor was gross, but you weren’t leaving your girl’s side, she needed you.

“Just get it all out, we can get water—” she hurls again before you could finish your sentence, one final fat spit in the toilet then moves to get up, you let her hair go and steady her as she rises to her feet.

“I’m okay…I’m okay…” She says. The two of you move to the bathroom sink, she still looks somewhat put together, just sweat on her forehead and tear streaks down her face. You gather paper towels out of the dispenser to help clean her up, you have mascara she can use in your bag and she has her lip gloss and lip liner in hers. She didn’t bring her powder to touch up the rest of her makeup but y’all could pull something together before stepping out.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” You step back as she washes her hands. The banging had stopped…she’s okay now…you could finally breathe.

“It’s cool…just get yourself together, take your time.”

“It’s not. I ruined the whole night. We paid so much to get in here I—” She runs back to the toilet to hurl again…fuck!

“Utahime— oh my god what the fuck…” You stress out…you don’t know what to do or how to help her to make this stop.

“I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what’s going on.” She cries out.

“Bitch we’re gonna have to leave…but I can’t call an Uber if you’re throwing up like this…”

“I know I know I just need some time…”

“Sweetheart what time!? We can’t stay in this bathroom, we have to move somewhere or something. Can you walk!?” You don't mean to bitch at her but this was getting ridiculous at this point, too much to deal with, you Don't. Do. Throw. Up.

“Yeah, I can walk…I need food or something to hold this down…my fucking stomach is turning.”

“Bro you don’t need shit else in your stomach. C’mon wash your hands again, we got to go.”

It takes you both a mere ten minutes to finally fix yourselves back together before getting it out, making sure to spray her down with a ton of perfume before leaving. There was a line of people standing to the side. Angry and annoyed looks on their faces, just as you thought y’all would survive the walk of shame you hear someone accuse y’all of holding up the bathroom to do lines of coke…y’all don’t even do drugs. Utahime sours at that, ready to cuss them out but you drag her deeper into the club stopping to lean against a ledge.

There were no couches on this level…just bar counters, a dance floor and paid sections. You don’t want to go down to the lower levels as y’all both paid extra to get up to this floor and y’all couldn’t leave the club till you were sure she was good. You leave her there for a minute to come back with two cups of ice water, one for you and one for her and she drinks it up and keeps it down like a fucking G.

“This dude keeps looking at me…” she shouts over the music, it was fucking booming in inside with bodies everywhere. You crowd around her to try and cover her to prevent whoever it was from looking at her…you knew why though…the two of you wearing the skimpiest shit y’all could find off OhPolly. Could you blame him? No.

“He still looking?” You ask, not wanting to turn back to look in case he takes it as an invite to come over. You were swaying to the beat now, good vibes still in you…Utahime might feel like it was but the night wasn’t ruined for you just yet. It’d take a whole lot more than this to kill your vibe.

“No but…bitch I feel sick again…”

“It’s a whole bunch of people in line now…can you hold it down?” Worry in your voice…if she throws up on the floor y’all were gonna be fucked.

“I don’t know…” She whines out.

“That guy…he’s coming over here.”

You look back…and he was…a tall guy…it was dark in the club so you couldn’t see his face. You turn your back to him quick, hopefully he takes the hint and fucks off. Now was not the time.

“Hey, what’s up? ” He approaches behind you, the smell of expensive cologne wrapping your noise and it wasn’t no cheap shit either.

“We’re cool.” You say dismissively without turning back to face him. Not to be a stuck up bitch in the club but now was not the time to be macking.

“You two look too good to be standing here, how about y’all—”

“I said we’re cool!” You argue back with venom in your voice, this guy was fine as hell too but unfortunately for him he’s being met with your protective side tonight.

“Damn, is she good?” He asks, worriedness laced in his voice…you can’t tell if he actually cares or not.

“If y’all need somewhere to sit and chill I got a section with some of my homies…y’all can’t be standing here like this.”

“We’re good, her feet just hurt.” You lie but they probably do, Giuseppe heels aren’t nothing to play with, but to your dismay she croaks out somewhat of a burp and a cough then spits into her empty cup. C’mon girl…act like a lady, get it together.

“She looks sick…” He carries on.

“She’s not—”

“Sis…please can we…” She whispers out…thighs trembling like they’re about to give in from leaning. You grab her shoulders to help keep her up.

“How many of y’all over there?” You ask, fuck it, you need to help your girl out by any means…all you had to do was just sit and chat his people up till she was good to go. Easy work.

“It’s three of us…my name Suguru by the way. I can call somebody over to get something for her too, it's not a problem. Y’all too cute to be standing over here.”

“Okay yeah…alright that’s cool.” You move to help her up, he steps to the side and takes his arm around her waist to support her. Just as you were about to protest to this stranger touching her you remind yourself why y’all got invited to the section and keep your cool.

He leads the way towards the back side of the club, the baddest bitches sitting up in the booths and you could tell by how the guys they were with were dressed that they had money. The bloody red soles of Suguru shoes as you walked behind them weren’t lost on you either…you peep the watch and chains on his wrist. He was iced the fuck out. Any other day you and Utahime would be all over him but tonight you were on a mission.

The three of you stop at a partitioned off booth where his two boys and a girl he hadn’t mentioned are sitting. There were empty ice buckets, some glasses, tall bottles of liquor and plates of eaten food on the table. The girl eyes the two of you, her gaze isn't cold but it is unreadable. It doesn’t faze you though, you could go toe to toe with her if need be.

“One sec…” He drops Utahime’s waist to explain the situation to both guys who were looking confused as to why y’all were here. You move to her side and you whisper to her to ask if she’s good, she simply nods to you in return. The two guys' expressions shift from confusion to at ease, the girl more so busy touching up her lipstick in a pocket mirror.

Suguru waves you both over now and you two take a seat in the booth across from them.

“This is Sukuna, Satoru, and my other man’s girl Mei Mei. Y’all this is…”

“Utahime.”

“Y/N” you say calmly.

“Sukuna, text back-of-house and tell them to bring gatorade, Pepsi, and something for this one to eat. And some more waters.” Pointing to Utahime, surprisingly she was sitting up nice and perfect as if she didn’t just give you hell like she was about to just die.

“Ard.” He whips his phone out to handle the request.

“I’m actually going to head out now.” Mei Mei says, shifting to grab her purse, a black leather Cassandre YSL shoulder bag. Your preloved Vivienne Westwood bag isn’t coming close to that price tag.

“Be safe!” Satoru says, then turns to the two of you as she scoots her way out, her silver dress shimmering under the low lights as she moves.

Piercing blue eyes now gaze at you over the rim of Cartier glasses.

“Suguru said you two were on the floor standing around…what’s wrong with your friend?”

“She’s just tired.” You lie again, not wanting to reveal to them the truth of the matter. Utahime shifts under the weight of their gaze, not speaking for herself.

“Yeah? He said she looked like she was about to pass out. People calling on staff saying y’all were holding up the bathroom, what’s that about?”

“We were just freshening up…” She speaks up now, her voice nearing a defensive tone.

“Bullshit.” Sukuna says, placing his phone down.

“Cleaning crew said the bathroom looked a mess when y’all got out.”

“Was like that when we went in.” You shoot back, voice still calm and collected, you weren’t looking to pick a fight with these three…you know how to behave. Though, by the way they’re speaking it sounds like they run the club and had cameras watching yall or something…

“Look, we own the club. Just making sure everything runs smoothly. This is a business at the end of the day.” Satoru finishes dropping the subject, your suspicions stand correct. This club wasn’t the only thing that spoke for their wealth…it was also what they had on, each of them wearing designer pieces, immediately you could spot and name a few brands…Chrome Hearts, Louis Vuittion, and Balmain.

“You two from out here? Or just visiting?” Suguru cuts in, pouring a glass of cognac for himself.

“Vacation.” You reply.

“Yeah? Where y’all from and how long?”

“Cali, we leave tomorrow afternoon.” You continue lying in hopes Utahime knows to play along, you learnt to never give up the truth of y’all backgrounds when asked.

“That’s what’s up, what part?”

“San Diego.”

“Yeah where? I sell properties out there, I got a house for myself down in Laguna too.” Sukuna butts in, interested now. You stutter at that, not sure what to say…you don’t know shit about San Diego but you do know about Balboa park so you come up with something quick.

“About a couple minutes from Balboa park, we just moved there. I don't really know the area too well to name anything.” You’re lying like shit now.

“Gotcha.”

“What do y’all do for a living? Flights from coast to coast ain’t cheap.” Satoru chimes in, picking up on your demeanor.

“I’m a lawyer.” Utahime cuts in before you could speak, catching on to the game you’re playing.

“Really!? What do you practice?”

“Divorce law.”

“What school did you graduate from?”

“Brown.” Now see the bitch did go to Brown…for a single semester.

“How old are you?” Sukuna bluntly jumps back in, you could tell by his voice he wasn’t buying it but y’all were gonna keep lying either way. Y’all were Miami, ain’t shit out here just like the bodies of half the girls in this club was real anyway.

“I’m 27.” Fuck. She’s lying like shit now too…she just turned 23 yesterday, y’all came out here together to celebrate her birthday week.

“Can I see your ID?” Satoru asks, coming out more like a request.

“We left them at the hotel…didn’t want to lose them. Happened before.” She lies effortlessly again, the dumbest shit she could have said.

“Well someone’s getting fired…” He leans back letting out a laugh, crossing a leg over the other.

“Sukuna, find out who’s watching the door before our shit gets shut down. I put too much money into this building to get sued and pay fines.”

Sukuna gives you both a look over before getting up and leaving. He looks pissed…but Satoru wasn’t…he was fucking smile as he watches him do as he was told. He’s been getting bitch since y’all two sat down…it was clear who the leader was.

“You a lawyer too?” He asks you.

“No, I don’t work.” You keep your lie simple, you weren’t about to get caught up any further. You and Utahime are gonna have to start rehearsing lies before stepping out now.

“Your friend works but you don't? How do you get your money then?”

“I model.” It wasn’t a total lie, you had an Instagram page full of pictures from photoshoots. You used to date a photographer, a popular one in New York, you stood in as his muse from time to time till you caught his ass cheating with a so-called client.

“Can I see your work?” He passes you his phone unlocked, a black iPhone that somehow feels heavier than the same one in your purse.

“It’s on my Instagram page.” You ask for permission before you start tapping around on his phone.

“Go ahead.”

You open up the app, catching a glimpse at his own page before quickly searching up yours. A gorgeous waitress comes by to drop off the food and drink order right before you can hand him his phone back. He looks over your page in glee…probably at the lingerie and swimsuit photos you have posted. Those were advertising deals you did as a side gig many moons ago.

“Ever considered working out here?” He cocks a brow at you, those icy blue eyes hidden behind those dark frames. Suguru leans over to take a look himself, brows raising at what he sees. He locks his phone to stop him from looking any longer, shoving it back in his pocket.

“It’s our first time here…never thought about it.”

“Could I…” Utahime cuts in, pointing towards the food at the table. A spread of cheese and crackers, cooked chicken, and a small plate of mash potatoes…enough to keep her stomach at bay…she seemed to be better now though.

“Yeah go ahead, here.” Suguru passes her a plate along with opening up the bottle of gatorade and pouring her a cup of the blue liquid.

“Thank you.” She says sweetly as she takes the plate. You catch him smile at her.

“First time in Miami, you seen anything good yet?”

“We’ve just been up Ocean drive and the beach so far…couple bars and clubs the other day.”

“So you thought to bring your IDs there but not ours? I’m offended.”

“We heard through some girls you could get in here without one…and that their friends had there’s stolen here one night so we planned accordingly.”

“The hell…”

“Well someones losing more than their job tonight, Suguru text Sukuna that for me, the fuck kind of club are we running?”

Utahime gives you a look, you never lied so much in your life now and this is snowballing like crazy. Sorry to whoever is about to get their shit rocked.

“Ahh…” Satoru lets out a sigh, neck cracking as he stretches it from side to side. “Business business…didn’t think the club scene could get any more crazier than what we dealt with last year.”

“What happened?” You ask, curious.

“Investigation still open, I’m not at liberty to say. But if your gorgeous friend over here ever needs a new job, I'm well connected with a stellar law firm. They represent my club and my other business. I own an art gallery.”

“You deal art?”

“Precisely.”

“Sounds like you have your hands full, I’d love to come see it one day.” You flirt back now that you’re more at ease with the conversation.

“It would be a pleasure to have you both stop by, a shame you’re leaving so soon. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Maybe you two could fly back out here?” Suguru chimes in, moreso speaking to Utahime…it was clear he had his pick tonight and it wasn’t you.

“Should definitely come back out here, I’m sure a girl as gorgeous as you could get work out here instantly. Has a scouting agency come up to you yet?”

“No, we haven’t had many interactions out here.”

“That’s good then. They’re everywhere like rats, posted up on every beach and club. Most are scams, if you catch my drift.” You shudder at the implications of his words. You knew all too well about the risks of modeling…

“Matter of fact, I know a guy that knows a guy who’s the head of an agency. I could set you up with them, they’re global and about to open an office in London.” Your ears perk up at that, he seemed legit so far, maybe he wasn’t bullshitting and even if he was it wouldn’t be a loss on your end.

“That sounds nice, I’d really appreciate it…”

“Of course, Suguru call up Kusakabe for me, I’m sure he’s awake. Tell him I have the most beautiful girl I ever laid my eyes on here. And call Ijichi, see if they have an empty desk at his firm, and if they don’t tell them to bring in another. They’ll have clients coming in droves once this one is through their door.”

You can’t help but blush at that…Utahime doing the same. All that damn lying y’all two done did sprouting legs to now have the utmost most flattering compliment thrown y’all way. Whelp, can’t stop the lies now…

Suguru get’s up to leave for a quieter space at that, a sad expression crossing his face having to depart from Utahime…her eyes trail after him. Satoru catches on but continues to direct his attention to you.

“You two have any plans after tonight? Your friend seems to be feeling better.” You turn to look at her, her eyes give confirmation to you without having to speak. You both know what that meant…an invitation…y’all were close to bagging at least one of their rich asses tonight…but it’s going to take a bit more convincing to go back with them.

“What do you imply?” She takes the lead now, composure calm as she speaks. She might have been a hot mess an hour ago but you both know the way in which she can work a man out of his wallet when it comes down to it. Atlanta March 2022, you’ll never forget it.

“Well, it’s getting late…” He starts off.

“...been here for a couple hours. I’d like to head back to where my boys and I are staying for the time being. We’re actually here on a business trip, just to check on how the club has been doing. Glad I did now that I know we got someone letting girls in without verifying their ages. Utahime I’m sure you know how much trouble we’d get into if authorities found out, you know the law…”

“Would be hell of a case to fight…”

“Where are you three from?” You ask, curious now.

“Japan. Ever been?”

“No…Utahime you’re—”

“I’m Japanese. My family is from Kyoto. I was born here and haven't got a chance to visit again since I was a kid.” She cuts you off before you could tell him.

“Really?” He says surprised. “Suguru is going to get a kick out of this.”

“I’m back.” Sukuna plops down on the sofa before either of you could speak, angrily tossing his phone on the table while doing so. “We switched Toji out for Todo, waited till I caught the fucker about to let four nineteen year olds in. The fuck is he thinking!?”

Both you and Utahime were stunned…no way your lie was true…but then again this was fucking Miami. Anything goes out here.

“Hey Sukuna, get this…this one tells me word on the beach is that our club doesn't check IDs. God knows how long this has been going on for.” Pointing to you now.

“You fucking serious?”

“So serious. Go ahead, tell him what you told me.”

“We met some girls on Ocean drive and they told us this club doesn’t card. That’s how they got in their first few times…they said they were twenty at the time.” Lies lies lies and more lies. At least you didn’t feel guilty about it anymore.

“Well fuck me then… better hope and pray we don’t have papers already coming our way.”

See…lying does work sometimes. The two of you likely just saved their club from going under or worse…being raided.

“Hey…they're both not answering…but I left a message. Sure they’ll see it in the morning.” Suguru swings back around, taking a seat next to Utahime, resting an arm above where she’s sitting.

“Did you tell them what I said word for word?”

“Uh— no. Is ‘two pretty girls’ enough?”

“Suguru, words have meaning…these two ladies are far more than pretty, pets like cats are pretty, these two are gorgeous. Matter of fact, she speaks Japanese, her folks are from Kyoto! Don’t we love Kyoto? Your summer vacation home there was featured in Architectural Digest once right? Or was that Metropolis?”

Suguru eyes light up at that, followed by saying something in Japanese to her and she replies back flawlessly to prove she actually could. Your ass is stunned by the exchange…you can’t understand shit being said but you could tell from the way he was looking at her that Utahime just talked her way into a fucking bag! Attagirl!

“Hear that Sukuna?”

“Yup.” Busy on his phone now, uninterested in their conversation that was likely getting flirty by the way she was blushing and giggling now. An arm comes around her waist pulling her in, you avert your eyes letting them have their moment.

“Ticket hit!” Sukuna shouts, the most excitement you’ve seen from him thus far.

“What team?” Satoru asks, akin to talking about stocks at the country club.

“Raptors, 6k off it too.”

“Got 9 off of the Lakers the other day, sure you’re going to beat my goal of reaching 20k in winnings by the end of the month?”

“Suguru at 17 right now, I been threw that towel in. I’m just betting for lunch money now.”

Man Utahime…you hope she’s hearing this! Because these men got fucking money.

“Ha! Well then I’ll quit too now then, I may have lost my ticket tonight but in the presence of these two beautiful ladies I’m a winner. Hey Sukuna, cut them both a thousand, they just saved our business from that slime Toji, they earned it.”

Hold on. Pause. You two bitches came down to Miami with 200 dollars in your pockets now you’re coming up on a stack all off a fucking lie? This city is actually unreal!

“What’s your apple pay?” He asks, not even batting an eye. You gesture for his phone to put your number is…but it’s not his that you want.

“Wisconsin number?” He asks curiously after taking the phone back from you.

“Yeah…I have a crazy ex. Had to change it to somewhere he wouldn’t think of dialing.”

“Smart cookie.” Is all he says before hitting your phone with a hefty apple pay payment.

“What’s hers?” “She doesn’t use apple pay, you can send it to me again and I’ll make sure she gets it.” You speak for her, needing to conceal her actual phone number to ensure they don’t find out where either of you live.

“Gotcha.” Is all he says sending the payment again, $2,000 being enough to cover rent twice over and y’all two didn’t even have to fuck for it. A smile crosses your face now, you feel like taking shots.

“How about we take shots?” You say with cheerfulness in your voice.

“Let’s!” Satoru says, reaching over for the bottle of D’usse and pouring five glasses each.

“No more for her, she’s cut off.” Suguru says, taking the shot glass out of her hands, and like a pliant little thing she knows to be, she doesn’t protest.

“Too not getting shut down.” Satoru says. You all repeat it cheering. The four of you knock back a couple of shots, liquor hitting your system soon after. The vibes and music was great, the two of you were having a great time.

The atmosphere settles down an hour after, tiredness starting to kick in. Sukuna had left after the third shot, something about having to meet up with his wife. You had swapped seats with him now and were sitting next to Satoru whose hand had been trailing up your thigh, he tells you the rings he wore were Tiffany, so you tell him you always wanted a necklace from there, he tells you stick around long enough you could get one, and that’s all you needed to hear to keep your glued to your seat as he pours you shots of Hennesy.

You’re drunk at the end of it all, not pissy enough to black out but enough to stumble out of the club…and still you deserve a gold medal for not tripping in your heels in the parking garage. Large warm hands guide you into a sleek black Bugatti, Utahime sober in Suguru’s Lambo, he said they’d follow you both to the high-rise they’re staying at.

Satoru hands continue to grip at your thighs as he drives, this was an insanely reckless thing to be doing, going back to this still stranger's place, but all the boxes had been checked. They didn’t just talk money, they showed it, so this was either going to go right or very left.

His hand reaches higher up your thigh close between your legs now, you spread them open giving him access to your pussy and his fingers go to rub at it. What can you say…henny goes straight to the pussy and you were already wet from the grips and grabs back at the section.

Your friend Shoko back home texts you asking you how the trip is going, too drunk to explain what’s happening you simply tell her that you both are “outside outside!”, and she sends you back a string of laughing emojis telling you to be safe.

Satoru's car continues to roar down the highway, Miami so beautiful at night yet not coming anywhere close to the man beside you.

Your eyes close, tiredness finally setting in.

The next thing you know you’re being helped out of his car and walked into a lobby, Utahime and her new beau arriving soon after. She looks so happy in his arms, you love her so much, more than anything. Your ride or die for life.

The four of you take the elevator up to the penthouse floor, being met with the most insane flat that you’d only see in movies. You kick your heels off at the door after stepping in, Utahime already being led elsewhere down a hall. Suguru gives space to let her shower before retreating into a room with him.

Floor to ceiling windows make up the walls as you walk around the place, Satoru soon coming to hand you a glass of wine you happily accept. You barely drink it though…already having enough. Miami is beautiful from above, lights twinkling and the moon making the ocean shimmer.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist whilst nuzzling his face in your neck.

“Yes.”

“But not as beautiful as you.” Is all he says before hooking a finger under the strap of your top teasing to take it off. He takes your glass then, placing it on the nearest table he then walks you into the master bedroom. A beautiful space only you could once ever dream of resting your head in.

“Model for me?” He asks, softly pushing you down to sit at the edge of the bed as he stands in front of you, lifting your head up by chin to look up at him. You don’t remember him taking his glasses off, eyes seeming to glow under the light of the moon.

You move to strip your outfit off, revealing a lace strapless bra set with a matching thong underneath. You watch as his plump lips curl up into a smile.

“If only I had a polaroid…” is all he says before taking out his phone. You move back further up the bed and he follows you on his knees already positioning the camera to snap pictures. You pose as he takes a million and several more, and before you know it he’s throwing his phone to the side and grabbing at your body to bring you close.

His lips quickly follow after, leaving kisses on your neck down to the crevice of your cleavage. Your bra soon makes its way off landing somewhere on the cold polished floor.

“I've wanted this since the moment I saw you…” he whispers between kisses, fondling your boobs as he makes his way down your stomach. Fingers come to pull down your thong, your pussy now free from what shouldn’t even be considered underwear.

Spreading your legs apart he takes a finger collecting the fluid now building up at your entrance, pulling his hand back he brings his coated fingers up to your lips and you happily take them in your mouth. He kisses you then right after, hot and wet with a lot of tongue.

“You’ve been such a delight…let me treat you.” He says, pulling off his top and unbuckling his belt to drop his pants. If he told you his body was sculpted by Michelangelo himself you’d believe him. Your eyes trail down his figure stopping at the bulge in his boxers, sobering up a bit from the sight of it. Lifting yourself up you bring your hands to curl around the band, looking up to slowly pull them down and he takes both hands cupping your face and kisses you deeply.

Stepping out of his boxers, he then moves you onto your back again, this time your arms going up above your head as he takes your body.

Fucking Satoru is the closest you think you’ll ever come to heaven before death…every whine, moan, gasp, and call of his name swallowed up by his mouth on yours. Each thrust of his hips knocks the air out lungs yet he breathes life back into you. His touch though isn’t anything but soft, a never ending shower of compliment and praise spoken into your ear. How beautiful you are, how good you feel, how amazing you are, you think you hear words pertaining to loving you thrown somewhere into the mix but you have to be imagining things. How could he? He just met you.

Your climax soon rushes over you rougher than the ocean that the building overlooks, and it’s then you realize how much you want to savor this moment, to melt away in his arms as he now cradles you close to his chest. You’d give your all to have one more night with him.

Your chest rises and falls as you steady your breathing as you come down from your climax, you take notice of the feel of fluids between your thighs and under you, and as you look down you see it’s his cum coming out of you. You always wondered how the richest and most accomplished men end up trapped with baby moms, and if it weren’t for you already on birth control he’d be just that. Having him as a father sounds nice, but in practice you know raising a child, his child in fact, could be fucking hell.

You turn to him then, climbing up onto his chest laying your head down to hear his heartbeat. Fingers come to card through your hair, he speaks up soon…and it’s his choice of words that come nothing louder than a whisper that makes your entire body go rigid.

“I know your friend isn’t a lawyer.”

You don’t know if you should respond or move away, his grip tightens in your hair lifting your head up to look him in the eyes. You weren’t trapped, you could get up and leave if needed, but you don’t, you stay put gearing up to take on whatever humiliating accusation that will eventually reveal to both of you the liar that you are.

“And you don’t live in California. The card you used to get in, New York zipcode.”

“How do you know?” Is all you could ask, the jig was already up.

“Sukuna ran the cameras and pulled the card info from the POS, texted me right before we left. Your full name is Y/N too.”

“I know you’re not stupid, but your friend might actually be. Wanna know how I know she’s not a lawyer, or at least that she didn’t go to Brown?”

“How?” He finally lets your hair go, folding his arm behind his head as he sits up.

“Brown doesn’t have a law school. I was once an exchange student there.”

“Shit.” Is what you stop yourself from saying, you should get up to go grab her ass and leave while he’s still calm.

“How old are you really, and please let it be a number that’s not going to get you kicked out.”

“How old do I look?”

“Well you act like you’re at least over 25, but you look–”

“I’m 22.”

“Jesus fuck…” He winces, “...you’re a fucking kid.”

“Kid? How old are you? 30s?” Annoyance in your voice, you didn’t have any right to be but this kid just worked two grand out of his hands like it was nothing.

“28 and watch your mouth, I��d hate to see your pretty ass get fucked up out here.”

Pretty…he had said pet’s were pretty.

“Fuck you!” You get up now, gathering your clothes up off the floor to put them back in. You were out of here and you needed to get Utahime quick before she gets caught up next.

“You call me a kid but you just nutted in me? You’re the fucking idiot.” Getting your thong and skirt back on, working on the top next.

“I keep Plan B in the bathroom if you need it.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.” You nearly spit at him as you say it. “I’m leaving.”

“Yeah I can clearly see that ya little liar. Keep the child if you want, my god son Megumi could use another sibling.” He says it like you need it. You’d bleed him dry of child support if you could.

“Kill yourself.” You don’t even look back at him when you say it, too embarrassed to face him, you slam the door behind yourself to find Utahime sitting on the small chaise in the hall all put together and back in her heels as if she never undressed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s go!”

“No wait he called us an Uber–”

“We can fucking wait downstair.”

The two of you make your way back down to the lobby, your hands trembling with anger and disgust. Utahime stops not once from asking you to tell her what happened and reason as to why you were so upset.. The Uber pulls up soon after, a jet black Escalade. The two of you hop in, she tells the driver it’s from Suguru and he simply say’s. “Thank you, but I know.”

You sit back now trying to calm yourself down but all you could think of is how gross you felt, his seed still inside of you as you hadn’t had the chance to do away with it. Utahime turns to you then, bambi eyes looking all but innocent. She turns her purse to you, the Louis pochette you spent a year saving up to give her for Christmas one year.

“Look what he gave me.” She pulls out a Piguet, the same silver and diamond one Suguru wore. The watch glimmers under the light of the lamp poles as the car drives down the road. Your jaw nearly falls off your face.

“He told me I can sell it and go back to school if I want! He’s was actually so nice, we didn’t even fuck I only gave him head and he said we can come back soon. He didn’t care that I lied about being a lawyer and all that shit. He told me to stay in school and he’lll make me his wife if I graduate.”

“Utahime…”

“Bitch do you know how much this shit cost? Fuck school, I’m selling this and buying out the first mall we walk into!”

“There’s no way that’s real.”

“Oh no no no bitch…this is real! Did Satoru give you anything?”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe? What do you mean?”

“He nutted in me…”

“Oh my god— a baby! He put a fucking baby in you!?”

“Utahime, I would never keep–”

“Bitch are you out of your fucking mind!?” Her eyes nearly popping out of her head, all she could see were dollar signs on you now.

“I think so…”

Fuck Miami. Fuck that club. Fuck Satoru. Fuck a baby.

At least your friendship survived.

[mickandmusings]

v. we were happy

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: Honey's life lately was much like walking on air-everything was light, breezy, full of happiness and excitement. She relishes in it, enjoying her time in Haven before graduation. But if there's one thing Honey knows, it's this: when good things happen to her, the bad things will come tenfold.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (just to be safe); smut highly implied, but no graphic descriptions besides heavy kissing (i'm not skilled enough for that); descriptions of a panic attack; angst; honey finally getting the important feminine friendships she deserves; notable military inaccuracies

-

"If you give me the slightest hint of withdrawal and abandonment, I would outdo you." -

-

"Jake is going to flip his lid when he sees you, Hon!"

Haley's voice rings in Honey's left ear, the girl delicately twisting Honey's hair into a simple up-do. Sarah Grace nods in agreement, giggling as she brushes a neutral eyeshadow across Honey's eyelids. Honey smiles and gives her own soft chuckle, feeling incredibly out of place-but simultaneously comfortable-with the new experience of getting all dolled up. Of course she'd gotten herself ready for dances with Jake before, but having girlfriends do your hair and makeup was entirely different, as Honey was learning. Haley and Sarah Grace had doted and debated about looks all morning, until they both agreed and settled on a unified look to match Honey's simple black dress.

"The dress alone is going to make him want to take you right there in his backseat," Sarah Grace commented, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the bathroom in the Seresin's spare house.

"Oh, gross, SG! Give Honey more credit than that, her boy has tact, which is apparently something Ethan lacks if he's taking you in his backseat." Haley shakes her head, the sequins of her hot pink dress rustling as she moves around Honey's stool to get the back of her head. Her own blonde locks are pulled into an intricate style atop her head, the shiny hairpins glimmering in the bathroom's ample lighting.

"I think you're both overconfident in your ability to take me from homely to supermodel."

Honey's voice is quiet, but the girls hear her clearly. They're both chatterboxes, but Honey had learned quickly that they were always listening, no matter how timidly she spoke. Both of the girls cut their eyes at her with appalled expressions.

"Homely? What makes you think you're ugly, Honey? You're easily one of the prettiest girls in our class. Guys are just shallow, well, except for your boy," Sarah Grace's face breaks into a smile. Honey blushes, not sure how to accept a compliment like that. She stays quiet as the girls finish their work, but her friends can only stand the silence for so long.

"So, Honey," Haley begins as she pins back a section of Honey's hair. "How excited are you for UT? I mean you only have a few weeks until graduation, and then summer, but then it's all over and you're packing your life away to Austin."

"I'm not packing my life away, Hals, I'm still coming back for the holidays and the long weekends. It's not like I'm never coming back to Haven. I mean-" She pauses and a blush spreads across her face. "I imagine Jake wants to settle down here, get married, maybe start a family. At least that's what he's always said."

"AW!" Haley's outburst makes Honey laugh too. "You two make me SICK! Jake Seresin and his perfect little family, all the other PTA moms are gonna give you hell, girl."

Honey rolls her eyes, pursing her lips as Sarah Grace moves to paint lipstick across them. Honey's heart feels full, and her skin is warm with adoration for the girls in front of her. For the first time in her entire life, everything felt right, perfect even. But if there was one thing Honey knew well, nothing good that happens to her lasts forever. She swallows the doubt rising in her chest and stands as the two girls finally finish. She looks at herself in the mirror-a satin black dress adorns her frame, accenting all of her best features. The pearl hairpins Haley had placed in her curly hair shined in the lights, and, while uncomfortable, the heels on her feet fit perfectly. Her eyes widened, for the first time maybe ever, she feels beautiful. Tears rise behind her eyes, and she blinks quickly in an effort not to ruin the makeup. The action isn't lost on Sarah Grace who gives her a sympathetic look, tears forming in her own eyes.

"It all feels so fast, doesn't it?" Sarah Grace's voice is softer than normal. "I mean, we only just became friends and after this summer, we'll all be in different corners of the country. You'll be in Austin, Haley will be in Tennessee, and I'll be Alabama. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

She was right, in a matter of weeks, Honey would start at UT Austin, Haley at University of Tennessee, and Sarah Grace at Auburn.

Honey shakes her head as she lets a few tears slip through. Haley is a blubbering mess next to her, her arms gathering around both Honey and Sarah Grace's shoulders.

"I love you guys," Haley's voice wobbles as she squeezes them tightly. "But hey, it's a good thing we all look damn good in orange, right? Otherwise we'd be fucked. And! We can all visit each other for games, since we already have the right colors, right?"

Honey laughed into her friend's shoulder, that sinking feeling of dread coming up her throat like bile. As Haley pulls away, she wipes the tears that had fallen, a smile on her face that didn't feel forced at all.

The girl's emotional moment is interrupted by a sharp knock to the bathroom door, Willie's voice sounding.

"You ladies ready?"

Haley said something in reply, but it didn't quiet reach Honey's ears. She was reeling in emotion, and it felt as if her ears were filled with cotton. Her heart raced, and she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking.

"H-Haley? SG?"

The two girls turn to their friend, her eyes filling with another round of tears. They both shuffle to her side, their own eyes cloudy.

"I, um, I just wanted to say...thanks. For so long I truly thought I was invisible, and I just-," she pauses, flashes of the past eight months playing behind her eyes: sleepovers and movie dates, sitting together at football games, gossiping over lunch. "-thanks for seeing me, for being my friend. You'll never know how much that, uh," Honey's bottom lip quivers. She doesn't have to finish her statement, because they've already pulled her back into a massive group hug. They all three laugh as they part, and Haley grabs her hand as they shuffle out the door to the front yard.

Immediately, Honey feels Jake's gaze on her. She pretends to ignore it for a moment, not wanting to meet his jade eyes after just crying, he'd be concerned. Instead, she leaves him waiting as she talks to Haley and SG before they both break off to their own respective partners. Finally, she meets Jake's gaze, his normally light eyes now dark, full of a longing she had only seen once before. She swallows and gives him a shy smile, approaching him timidly.

"You clean up nice, Seresin," she jokes, feeling almost nervous under his gaze, but never uncomfortable.

"Me?" He finally speaks, his calloused hands pulling her in by her hips. "Darlin', you're always beautiful, but-," he shakes his head. "This look will be in my dreams for a while."

Honey laughs, Jake's lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they shuffle over for at least an hour's worth of pictures for Janet. The last picture before they all head out, the obligatory picture under Janet's magnolia tree, was one of Honey smiling at the camera, but Jake stared down at her instead. For anyone from the outside looking in, he was simply enamored with her, and couldn't turn his eyes away. While that was true, Jake knew it had more to do with him trying to memorize the happiness painted across her face, because after tonight, he would likely never see it again.

-

Music thumps in Jake's ears as he sways Honey in his arms. She's a vision below him, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes (and his hands) off of her. She gives him a smile that dazzles as he spins and dips her to the upbeat pop song sounding from the speakers. She accidentally steps on his toes as he pulls her back in and apologizes, but he pays it no mind, it's not like he could feel it through his dress boots. She had abandoned her heels hours ago at the table they shared with their friends, his suit jacket following not long after. He grins, lifting her over his shoulder without warning, spinning her before placing her back down on her feet. She yelps in surprise, settling back into his hold, it was a move he'd pulled numerous times.

"This isn't a honky tonk! Why are you pullin' out those line dancing moves?!"

She giggles through her words, cheeks rosy with a slightly breathless blush. The action transports them to the summer of their sophomore year, spending hours upon hours in the farmhouse living room in sock feet, desperately attempting to learn the steps to a line dance Jake had convinced her to learn. Jake smiles back down at her, his hands settling on her hips, falling dangerously lower and lower each time.

"Can't I show off a little? Didn't learn all those moves for nothin'," Jake's response intertwines with his cocky smile and a wink. A plastic crown sits crooked on his head, a sash that adorned him 'Prom King' now over Willie's torso across the room. The upbeat pop song slowly morphs into a country love ballad, and Jake pulls her in close. Honey welcomes his touch, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to the hair on the nape of his neck, the other resting on his chest. Her hair that Haley had so delicately curled was falling down around her face, and her lipstick that Sarah Grace had spent an hour and a half debating shades of had mostly been wiped away, notably making Jake's lips a little more pink than normal. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as they sway, and Jake feels tingles travel up his spine. His hands pull her closer-if that was even possible-and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Only a thousand times," Honey responds, her eyes now glimmering in the light as she looks up at him.

"Make it a thousand and one, you look beautiful tonight, baby."

He lifts a hand from her hip, pushing stray hair back behind her ear. Honey blushes, hiding her face in his neck again. She's quiet for most of the song, but it doesn't strike Jake as odd, quiet is her usual state of being. The song is fading when he hears her voice over the music.

"Does it feel weird? That everything is happening so fast? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad high school is ending, but...this time three months from now, SG and Haley will be hours away, and we'll be packing up our things and headed towards Austin. I swear to God just yesterday we were nine years old riding bikes up and down the road and now..."

Honey cuts off her own sentence. Jake certainly knew how fast the time was flying. The dread he had been swallowing for weeks was creeping back up, and the guilt of not telling her was beginning to weigh him down completely.

"It's flyin' by, for sure."

She closes her eyes and lets him sway her for the rest of the song, before the sweet song shifts to one more fit for fast-paced dancing. It was late into the night, and it was likely the adults would be kicking them out within the next hour. He waited for Honey's body to detach from his own, but when it never did, he looked down at her. Her eyes meet his, a look of desperation crossing her face. He'd know that look anywhere-she was overstimulated, and ready to go. He pulls her away just a few inches, his hands still lingering on her hips.

"Why don't you go tell the girls you're leavin' and we'll get out of here?"

She was tired of the party, the crowds, the loud music, and was relieved when she didn't have to utter a word for Jake to understand her discomfort. She nodded and shuffled to bid her friends farewell, returning back to their shared table to slide her shoes back on. Jake catches her out of the corner of his eye and approaches her, a confused look written across his face.

"What're you doin'?"

Honey looks up, "Puttin' my shoes on?"

"They hurt your feet, just let me carry you to the truck."

"That's sweet, J, but I'm heavy and this dress-"

"I wasn't askin', baby," His eyes are that same dark shade from before, and she simply swallows her retort.

He sticks his arm out for her to take, her heels now dangling from his opposite hand. She wraps her hand around his bicep until they reach the door, where he scoops her up as if she weighs nothing. Her arms instantly intertwine around his neck, a laugh escaping her as she laughs at the absurdity of it all-Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, carrying her bridal style to his truck.

"Somethin' about this funny?"

She simply shakes her head and looks up at him, her face hot.

"Just, imaginin' what eight-year-old us would think, ya know? Nine-year-old Honey would've never imagined this. Would the younger you ever picture this?"

Jake doesn't even have to think.

"Yeah, yeah he could. I was in love with you the second I saw you, Honey, I just didn't know it yet."

Honey is rendered speechless, a warmth spreading in her torso and filtering to the rest of her body. Her eyes dart between his own as he slides her into the passenger side of his truck, darting down to place her shoes at her feet, slinging his jacket in the backseat. He goes to close the door, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

He looks up at her, an expression drawn across her face that he'd never seen before. He notes her chest rapidly rising and falling with short breaths, her eyes blown wide and dark, her body language radiating a sort of familiar heat that Jake had felt earlier in the night, when he had first seen her in the dress she was wearing.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She says nothing, bringing his face in-between her hands as she kisses him with a fervor he'd never seen coming from her. His own hands meet her hips, sliding her across the seat and closer to him. It's all lust, clashing teeth and heated kisses, his hands resting too far down her back and gripping her thighs, her lips on the plane of his neck.

She pulls away, breathless.

"We should get out of here."

Jake didn't have to be told twice as he raced over to the driver's side, his hand finding her leg as he peeled out of the parking lot. Her lips placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as his grip tightened on her, and Jake was thanking the heavens above his grandparents had built that spare house nearly a mile and a half out from their own house. Jake was the epitome of a southern gentleman, never pushing or even insinuating the few intimate acts they'd shared so far, but now, with Honey looking like that, with her lips teasingly caressing his neck, most of his control had flown out the window.

Jake made it to the house in record time (by running a few stop signs and speeding) and all but flung himself out of the truck, pressing his lips fervently against her own as he pulled her from the truck, and was prepared to break down the damn door of the house to get her alone. He tossed his own shoes off at the door, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot as he plopped her carefully on the bed. She gave a soft chuckle, and he hovers over her close enough to feel her heart racing. He brings his hand to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. His own chest heaves with short breaths, his mind muddled as he gazes into her dark irises. He brings his own lips to her neck and trailed down to her collarbone, the hands on her waist falling lower and lower as he moves his lips down her skin. He stops himself, looking down at her as his voice grows low and serious.

"Are you sure about this, baby? We can stop at any point. We can stop this right now, no pres-"

Her shaky hands fall on either side of his face, her fingers combing through his blonde locks.

"Jake," she pauses, using a beat to catch her breath. "I've never been more sure of anything. I have nothing to hide from you, I want you to do this. I-I love you."

Jake's heart hammers.

"I love you too."

His lips connect with her own, his calloused hand pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder exposing her bare skin to him. As she revels under his touch, his mind only sees her, and he could not fathom thinking of her in any other way than in her state of pure bliss.

-

Hours later, as the moonlight glows on Honey's bare skin, Jake's momentary euphoria is diminishing. He watches her chest rise and fall as she sleeps, his fingers lightly tracing shapes onto her arm. She moves closer to him subconsciously, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He's wide awake, relishing in the contact as long as he can, because this time tomorrow, he'll be stammering and stuttering as he tells her the truth. His mind goes in circles about the acceptance letter hidden in the boot box under his bed. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple before closing his eyes and willing his mind to shut off, but the storm swirling in his heart keeps him from resting. Jake instead spends his night watching her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter as she dreams, and thanks his lucky stars for the short time he had in her orbit. As the sun's rays begin to shine through the curtains of the bedroom, Jake's eyes finally began to close with sleep, his dreams peaceful.

Honey wakes with to the blinding sunlight hours later. She squints her eyes at the intruding brightness, before adjusting and opening them fully. She looks up to see Jake’s eyes closed with sleep, his blonde locks tossed about haphazardly. Even in sleep his eyebrows furrowed and she frowned, not liking seeing him in discomfort. She kisses the underside of his jaw lightly, and it causes him to stir just slightly. She shuffles just a bit in his hold, her body tired, but her mind wide awake. He shuffles again before his eyes blink open, and his spare hand rubs the sleep from them before looking down at her. He grins.

“Hi,” she speaks sheepishly, her pointer finger drawing shapes against his bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ baby,” He whispers down to her, kissing the crown of her head as he’s waking up. He knows they need to get dressed and shuffle back up to the house soon, or else his grandparents would be nosing around. Them lying naked in bed together was the last thing he wanted them to see.

“Are you okay?”

Her words take him by surprise. He wrinkles his brows, pushing her still slightly curly hair out of her face, before letting it rest around her waist again.

“M’peachy, darlin’. Why? Do I look rough or somethin’?”

She shakes her head.

“You were frownin' in your sleep, thought you were having a bad dream or something.”

Jake sighs, he wished it was only a bad dream. He painted on a smirk.

“I’m fine, promise. Didn’t get much sleep, couldn’t stop staring at the pretty girl in my arms.”

Honey wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by pestering him.

“Such a flirt, Seresin,” she rises up to rest on her elbows, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “We should probably head back up before the old folks start poking around.”

He nods, another signature grin forming on his face.

“I’ll get up and movin’ as soon as you do.”

Honey plops back down against her pillows, the sunlight on her exposed skin now giving her a sunkissed appearance. It made Jake’s insides flame with want again, and he says nothing before kissing her neck again. She’s underneath him again in a split second, the air filled with the chirping of the morning birds and the sounds of pleasure tumbling from both of their lips. After they both reach their highs, she collapses back onto her pillow, his warm hands pulling her back to his front. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, placing a kiss there as he lightly rubs his thumb against the top of her hip. They relish in one another’s presence in the shared bed, stealing kisses and not-so-innocent touches. They’re both too caught up in one another to realize that time was ticking by faster than they could imagine.

As Jake fell asleep next to her, he dreamt of a life years from now, curled into the very bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, a little different in decor, and definitely some thicker curtains, but she’d been bare beneath him, her sweet sounds filling his ears. He’d collapsed next to her, but when he looked down, a gold band adorned his left hand. When sunlight began to peep from around the windows of the imaginary life he created, he noted the sound of children’s laughter in the next room over. When he woke up to find Honey resting under his chin, his dream had almost felt real, more a glimpse into the future rather than a dream.

-

The cloud they live on seems to float into the next few weeks. It was as if they were finally falling victim to all of the typical teenage love things: sneaking around behind his grandparents back, keeping as quiet as possible while they fooled around with one another in shared sheets. They'd sneak out Jake's window and sneak off to an empty pasture in Jake's truck for complete solitude, just the two of them under a starry Texas sky. Honey had never smiled so wide, and her happiness practically radiated off of her. Jake couldn't help but feel her happiness just by being in her presence, her true bubbly nature on full display for him.

But the day before graduation, they're knocked down from their personal cloud nine.

Honey had left the house early for Haley's-a whole day for Honey to enjoy the warm Texas weather before the stress of graduation tomorrow. She'd been so happy before leaving, bumbling around their shared room in a swimsuit that made Jake's head spin. He'd tempted her to stay behind, all puppy dog eyes and grabby hands. She simply ignored him, grabbing her book of the week off of its designated spot on the bedside table, intending to read it while she sat poolside. She left with a beach towel in hand and a kiss on his cheek.

The second the front door shut with her departure, Jake had been a bundle of nerves, completely on edge as he paced back and forth. By the time he finally settled onto the mattress he had likely worn a hole in the carpet of his bedroom. He had finally procrastinated until the literal very last day, and now he had to burst her bubble with something they could've settled already if he'd just told her. He fumbled with the letter in his hand, rereading the paper over and over as if the words would magically change. His full legal name stared back at him in big, black, bold letters, almost taunting him.

'Mr. JACOB T. SERESIN III

1021 SERESIN FARM RD.

HAVEN, TX 77382

Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy as a member of the class of...'

Jake stopped, he didn't need to read anymore. He already knew what it said, and it wouldn't change. He'd already sent his acceptance, and, in less than a month he'd be on his way to Maryland for his summer. He slammed the letter onto the empty spot on the bedside table, throwing on his boots and heading towards the barn in an effort to focus his attention on something else. He worked silently, only his grumbles filling the air as his mind spun with the thousand different ways he was going to explain this to the person who he loved most. He had put it off for far too long, and he had to tell her, today. No more making excuses or putting it off, he would do it, no matter how terrified it made him. He took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat forming on his face as he made his way out to the fence line that needed repairing-that'd keep him busy for a while. As he worked, he was so laser-focused he had hardly noticed the sun beginning to set, or the sound of Haley's car rolling down the driveway. He definitely didn't hear the sound of his girlfriend's sweet laughter as she bid her friend farewell and rushed into the house to find him.

She frowned as she looked on the main floor, finding no signs of him, and she shuffled up the stairs as she called after him.

"Jake, are you up here?"

She noted his open bedroom door, and made her way in. Her shoulders fell as his presence was lacking in the empty room. She shook her head and plopped her bag onto his desk chair and moved to sit her (completely unread) novel onto it's spot on the bedside table, only to find the spot already filled. She assumed the paper was for her, maybe a note left by Jake, so she picked it up and began to read it. Her entire body stilled as she noted Jake's full name in a bold font, his address underneath.

'Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy...'

Her heart raced, eyes darting as she skimmed over the fluff of the letter, her attention going back when she noticed dates in bold letters.

'Induction Day is June 27th, which is the beginning of your-"

She stopped reading, her chest feeling tight. She sits down on the bed as she rereads the paper in her hand, as if she had misread the words printed so clearly on the page. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was reeling. She simply could not believe this was real, it had to be some mistake in the system. Jake wouldn't be leaving for Maryland come late June, he was coming with her to UT in August. As her chest heaved, she raced down the stairs with the letter held tightly to her torso. She was thankful Janet and Jacob Sr. had been selling at the farmer's market this afternoon, because her emotions had begun to rise to concerning levels, and if Jake didn't explain, things would get explosive.

When she reached the end of the stairs, she caught his work hat out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, baby, didn't see you come in," His face is painted with a smirk as he leans against the kitchen counter, glass of water in hand. Honey is having none of his flirtations.

"Jake, what is this?" She lifts the letter so the words were facing him.

Jake's smirk falls, his eyes peering into her own, and he swallows thickly. He says nothing, his mouth feeling incredibly dry despite the water he had just downed.

"This is a joke right? O-Or some mix-up in the system? Maybe you should call them, m-maybe there's another Jacob Thomas Seresin in the system and they sent it to the wrong address, or-" She's shaking her head as she looks down at the letter in her shaky hands. "Because this can't be right. I mean...right?"

Jake looks at her, her chest heaving with short breaths, eyes darting between him and the letter in her trembling hold. She bites her lip, waiting for him to speak, to reassure her it was a big mistake, or a mean prank he'd planted for her, just for him to say something.

He longs to look down and see anger behind her eyes, or for her to scream and shout at him, anything to diminish the pleading look that stares up at him.

"Jake? Talk to me, what's going on?"

He had been quiet for too long. He shakes his head at her.

"I-It's not some mix-up, Honey. I'm going to the Naval Academy at the end of June."

Honey's eyes dart back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

"As like a summer program or somethin'?"

Jake shakes his head again, moving slowly to take the letter from her, grasping her trembling hands into his own.

"I'm attending the Academy full-time. I-"

Honey begins to tune out everything he's saying, as if his words had shut off her ability to think. She stares down at her feet, not sure what to say.

"-I-I wanted to tell you soo-"

"How long have you known?"

Her abrupt words cut him off, and he looks at her confused.

"I-"

"Because I've only heard mention of the Naval Academy once. During football season, and only in passing," She pauses, her once bright eyes now heavy with sorrow. "H-Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

She takes two timid steps back from him, ripping her hands from his grasp.

"Honey, baby, no, I-"

"Don't call me that," her voice is quiet, and when he looks up at her again, her eyes are full of tears that had slowly begun to fall down her cheeks. "This induction d-date, it's less than a month from now. Were you ever going to tell me if I didn't find this?"

Her arms are crossed across her chest, her body language fully on defense. There was no shouting or sharp comments that were fueled by anger, as Jake had expected. Instead of lashing out at him, she simply folded in on herself.

"All these months, everything we talked about. Going to college together, movin' in together, marriage, babies...was it some sick joke to you? Because that shit was real to me, Jacob."

The use of his full name comes as a digging surprise, she only ever used it in a joking manner, but now, she was far from joking. Jake doesn't say anything, standing stupidly as the girl he loves falls apart in front of him. His mind is overrun with things he wants to say to her, to shout from the rooftop, but none of it seems worthy enough at this moment. He's hurt her, in a way he couldn't imagine he ever would, and nothing he could say would fix it.

"I-If you wanted to break up with me," she stops, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips tremble on the cusp of a sob. She takes a deep breath, one that looks painful even through Jake's own teary eyes. "I-If you wanted to break up with me, yo-you should've just told me, because this, this is so much worse."

Jake's heart sinks, that's the last thing he wanted to do.

"Honey, I'm not breakin' up with you. I-I'm doin' this for you," His chest is rising and falling just as rapidly as hers, but he's not quite as good at pulling the reins of his own emotions. "If I went to UT, I'd waste my grandparents' money takin' classes I would half-ass, and probably permanently damage my body playin' football. I'd come back to Haven after wastin' four years, take over the farm, and stay here forever until I die, n-"

"That's a bad thing? I didn't realize my dreams were so lowly compared to yours." Her voice is sharp. Her uneasiness is now festering in insecurity, and, as a result, anger.

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Jake tries to slow his breathing, desperate pleading with her to just listen to him. "When I go and do this Honey, we'll have a better life. You'll get a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in any city in the country you want. I'll get to do what I truly want to do for the rest of my life. Honey, I know you love Haven, God, I do too, it's my home, but you and I both know we're made for somethin' bigger, baby."

She can't even bear to look at him, putting almost all of her energy in not collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the tile floor. She shakes her head as she lets out a dry laugh.

"You're so hard-headed, Jake. I already have a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in the only city in the world I'd want to plant roots in. My house could be a cardboard box next to a dumpster in New York City if you were next to me! You think UT was my dream school, that I wanted to plant my life in Austin?! I chose it because I knew you'd be by my side! That was all I ever wanted! But now I'm realizin' just how girlish and naive that sounds, and I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize you dreamt of somethin' different. I-I just wish you would've told me." She wipes the stray tears sliding down her face, the sad, watery smile he expected her to wear paints her face. She looks back down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.

"Congratulations," her voice is so small he hardly hears it. "I know you'll do great, you always do. I, um, I'm gonna go home."

Jake's blood freezes. "You are home."

She gives him another faux smile as she shakes her head back and forth.

"This is your home, Jake. My home is at the end of the road. You know where to find me."

"No," he steps in front of her. "I-I know you're angry, and you've got every right to be. But I'm not lettin' you go back there. You take our bed, I'll sleep on the couch. O-Or we can sleep in separate rooms for now. I'm not lettin' you run off because you're scared I'm leavin'. No matter what you think, I still love you, that's never changin'. I'm not dumpin' you off, Honey, that isn't what this is."

He sees it, the light completely draining from her as the conversation continues. The years of breaking her out of her shell, of healing her eternal worry of everyone she loves leaving, it was all wiped within a matter of minutes. He had carved an open wound into the heart he'd sewn back together, and now, she stands in front of him, numb and completely breaking simultaneously.

Her back is facing him, and his hand lands softly on her arm as her torso shudders with an audible sob. She clutches at her chest as her breaths are short and ragged, and Jake knows this action well. She's panicking, her anxious thoughts culminating in physical symptoms. As much as he, too, wanted to collapse into a pile of grief, he moved to help her through her own.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Jake's voice is at a normal level, his hand grabbing her own and bringing it to his chest. "You gotta breathe, darlin'. C'mon."

Her eyes look up at him, and he doesn't even recognize the person staring back at him. It shakes him to his core, but he pushes through until she's breathing calmly next to him, both of their backs against the counter as they sit on the cold kitchen tile. In an action he doesn't quite understand, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. She doesn't utter a word, but she allows him to hold her close. She falls asleep against him, and he brings her to his own bed, tucking her in before placing a kiss on her forehead. He moves to leave the room, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave. Stay with me, please. I don't want to lose you before I have to."

He doesn't argue, his heart is too tender to ever deny her request. He slides into the sheets next to her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if nothing had changed. But, for Honey, everything had changed.

She had been a fool, stupid, to think Jake wouldn't dump her after taking what he wanted from her. Her mother's sharp words rang around in her mind:

"That Seresin boy will dump you the second he gets what he wants, girl. Just you watch."

"You? With a boy like him? You must be more stupid than I thought, sweetheart."

"You're going to end up just like me, lied to, cheated on, with a ungrateful, bitch daughter who hates your guts."

Jake rested peacefully, while Honey saw everything she feared most come alive around her. Silent tears ran down her own face, and as she sat there, she knew what she had to do-if Jake was going to abandon her, she'd follow suit.

-

The night of graduation, after diplomas had been given out and caps had been thrown, Honey and Jake's small friend group had all come together on the Seresin's place, gathered around a bonfire in an empty clearing, most of them nursing bottles of alcohol they had smuggled from their parents' supply. Honey watched as Jake laughed with Brett and Willie, darting her eyes down when Ethan brought Sarah Grace into a smothering kiss as she jokingly pushed him off of her. She felt like the Honey she used to be-sitting idly on the sidelines as life happened to everyone else. She carried a heavy sadness and anger in her chest, one she could never put down, not even with the concoction of various liquids in the solo cup she held, occasionally taking sips. The burn felt nice, an easy distraction from the gnawing of anger in her chest. She smiled as Willie pulled her from her chair and made her dance to a stupid country song, feeling a little lighter as she let loose. One look at Jake had her shut down again, recluse in her green lawn chair. As the night carried on, she looked out at her friend group one last time, memorizing the warm feeling, because it was the last time they would be her friends. Come morning, she'd be long gone from Haven, and, since they were Jake's friends first, she'd lose them.

After the festivities of the night were over and their guests had stumbled back to their own homes, Jake and Honey made their way back inside, carrying out their routine as if it was any other night. Despite the unresolved feelings she carried, Honey refused to let Jake carry them too. She remained neutral, still sleeping in his arms every night, still tagging along at events, as far as he knew, they had three days until he left for the Academy, and he had planned to spend every waking moment with her. He had no idea of the plans that Honey had, the ones that would unexpectedly change his life forever.

The Seresin farm house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep as the moonlight seeped in through the thin curtains. At least, mostly everyone.

Under the guise of the darkness, Honey slips out of Jake's arms slowly, moving so carefully as to not wake him up. If he woke up and caught her, she'd never go through with her plan, she'd be sucked back into bed with his encapsulating emerald eyes and his desperate pleas for her to stay. She shuffles across the hall to her own bedroom, sliding the duffel bag she'd packed out from under her bed, sliding on her trusty Converse high tops, and shutting the door behind her. As she shuffles down the stairs with Jake's car keys in her hands, her racing mind thinks of the conversation they'd had just four days prior. She'd been sleeping in his grasp as he whispered down to her.

"My truck," he started, his hands intertwining in her hair. "I want you to take it, to UT. I won't be here to use it, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll have a way to get back and forth."

She'd protested and fought him on it, but now, as she snuck out of the creaky front door, she was glad he'd done it. She slung her bag into the back seat, sliding into the driver's side, and slamming the door closed. Her chest heaves with anxious breaths, tears already clouding her eyes. She shoves them down and adjusts the seat that had been set for Jake's lanky legs, and turns the key. The local country station comes on, and Honey ignores it, turning her body to look out the back glass and backs the truck out of the yard and down the dusty driveway, ready for the long drive ahead of her. She was leaving Jake in a way that only felt right-he wasn't going to take that from her, she wouldn't be the one abandoned this time-he would.

Jake had woken as he heard her footsteps descend down the stairs. It wasn't unusual, Honey had been up at all hours of the night since the day of their disagreement. He shut his eyes closed again, leaving his arms open for her to slide back into. When the sound of his truck starting fills his ears, he pops his eyes open, not bothering to even throw on a shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, running through his house and out the front door in only his boxers. He only gets a glimpse of the taillights down the driveway as his bare feet hit the grass of the yard. He's stomping back through the house, not caring much if he wakes anyone. He's lifting the house phone with a quick pace, dialing her cellphone number even quicker. As he expected, no answer. His hands shake, his heart hammers, and he runs back up the stairs to at least toss on a shirt and some shoes, his looks be damned. He was going to grab the keys to his grandfather's truck and take after her, she couldn't have made it further than down the road by now.

When he slams open his door, he notices the letter on his nightstand, because it's out of place. Normally, Honey's book or multiple books rest there, ready for her to pick up whenever. Instead it's a flat, white sheet of paper, and he glares at it as if he could make it catch flames. He snatches it up and opens it, expecting to find Honey's delicate cursive etched onto it in ink. Instead he finds typed letters, Honey's legal first and last name in big, bold letters at the top of the page. She had likely denoted her preferred name, because it was used in the greeting.

"Dear Honey,

Congratulations on your admission to Mississippi State University! For over 100 years, MSU..."

Jake stops reading, his unease turning into flaming hot anger. He slams the letter back onto the nightstand as tears form in his eyes, his chest growing tight with the bout of sobs threatening to fall from his lips. He sits down on his mattress, his head in his hands as he lets his silent tears fall onto the carpet below. How had he not noticed it? Had there been signs? There had been no sudden withdrawal of her affections, no serious changes in her mood. As Jake calms the best he can at the moment, he realizes she didn't mean this in malice, just like he didn't have any malice behind shipping off to the Academy. He loved her, and, at least he hoped, she still loved him. They had been sewn at the hip since they were nine years old, perhaps it was due time they went their separate ways. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the better, he felt alone, empty. At this moment, despite knowing and loving her for over a decade, Jake, for the first time in his life, finally knew exactly how Honey always felt: abandoned.

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@mrsevans90

[tootiecakes234]

Dad Katsuki and implied black reader (but open to everyone)

Katsuki Bakugo is good at almost everything he tries. A lot comes naturally but if not, he puts in minimal effort and then ends up exceeding.

But the one thing…… the one thing that he can’t wrap his head around is styling hair. Obvi, you have seen the way he tries to “style” his own hair.

He’d tried to help you with yours before but he couldn’t even figure out how to get the lumps out of a ponytail. He gave up after about 30 minutes of trying and never offered to help you with it again.

But of course you guys had gotten pregnant and had not one but two little girls.

One day you’re sick and there’s no way you’re about to get up and try and get those little gremlins ready for school.

“Don’t worry about it. I got time before I gotta head out. I got em.” He groans after the alarm goes off for you to wake up.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly because no one was screaming or crying. You eventually drift back to sleep.

Until… “ Noooooo!” And it scares you awake. That sounds like your oldest daughter. “ ‘m not going to school like this! Other kids will make fun of me!”

You fumble out of bed and start heading towards the child screaming bloody murder.

“Ya look fine. Anyone picks on you and I’ll kick their ass.” Katsuki says back to her.

Then all you hear from your youngest child is “Ass, Ass, Ass! Daddy said Ass.” And her giggles following after. The child is a menace to any situation.

When you finally get to the door you completely understand the situation.

Your baby girl is sporting “pigtails” that are uneven and crooked, and your oldest has what looks like chunky plats in her hair. They both look a hot ass mess.

“Both of you be quite! Your mom is trying to sleep! And you, stop saying ass. It’s a bad word.” He shouts loudly back at them.

“Daddy look at this! I look awful. Please don’t make me go to school like this.” Then the tears start falling and you finally make your presence known.

“Ok, ok.” It comes out all scratchy. “Everyone calm down.”

The youngest runs up to you and squeezes you leg, “mama, daddy’s gonna kick ass”

You pick her up and further examine the horrific job your husband made to her hair. “Oh yea?” And your brow lifts towards Kats because you’ve told him over and over to stop cussing in front of your kids.

“Mhmm” and she nods her head.

“Mom! Look at what dad did to my hair!?! I can’t go to school like this. Please fix it.” And she runs over to you with pleading eyes.

“Your mom is sick and your hair is fine. Now cut it out and get dressed.

“Da-“ but you cut her off.

“Katsuki this is not fine. It’d be a form of torture to send them to school like this. Come on sweet girls. I’ll fix it really quickly so you’re not late.”, you mumble and start taking them both to the bathroom.

“Are ya serious? It doesn’t look that bad.” At this point you think he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“They look a mess Kats. Not sending my kids to school lookin like they aren’t loved.” And both your daughters start giggling at that.

“What the hell ever. I’m gonna go pack their lunches.”, and he stomps off toward the kitchen.

It takes you about 15 minutes to get them both done. You have a little extra time so you throw some cute bows and accessories in there just to show him what a cute hairstyle actually looks like.

“Ok whaddya guys think”, you ask them

“I’m cute” the younger one says and she’s playing with her hair.

“It’s a lot better. Thanks mom.”

You help them finish getting ready and then shuffle them in the kitchen.

“Daddy, mommy fixed your hot ass mess” your older daughter says as she sits at the table to eat breakfast.

Katsuki stands there with his mouth agape. “What the hell did you just say?”

And everyone burst out laughing.

“Don’t be mad. Momma said I could say it.” She says with a huge smile on her face.

“Just the one time. Cuz (youngest daughter name) got to cuss cuz of you this morning.”

“Haha…. This whole family is freakin hilarious.”, he grunts and serves them their breakfast.

While their eating Katsuki walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “You think you’re better than me hah?”

“At doing hair… 1000%. At being the strongest, sexiest dad?? Never.”, you say and grin up at him all cheeky.

“You’re so annoying. Take your ass to bed you look exhausted.”

Next thing you hear is “Ass to bed. Take ass to bed” being sung at this top of the little one’s lungs.

You just know you’re gonna get a call from her school today and it’s all Katsuki’s fault.

Katsuki Masterlist

[savannahsdeath]

call me silly but i cant stop thinking about hogwart au ellabs uhhh istg . i cant . also im pretty sure im the first one to make a hogwart au so please give ib if you want to make your own fic🤭 if im not the first one then sorry and please lmk who is !!

summary: you're roommates with your best friend and girlfriend, which don't seem to get along well.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

you and abby often wondered what's ellie doing in gryffindor, as the setting hat had doubts itself, wanting her to go to the slytherin for a split second.

"i mean, i'm happy she's with us." you quickly explained, realizing she might hear you through the bathroom door.

abby frowned, not looking away from her book. "oh, you are? and why, exactly?"

you laughed, leaning in to see what is she reading about, but she slammed the book shut with a loud bam! right in front your nose. "well, first of all, she's my girlfriend. self explanatory—"

"but... why?" she cut you off and sat up. "what do you see in her?" oh, you knew that one. it wasn't the first 'you deserve better' talk you had with abby. "wouldn't you rather to be with someone smarter, stronger and, i don't know, just... not a total loser?"

for a moment you sat there, so close to her your shoulders were touching, with your mouth parted and lips going dry. a moment passed as the door opened and ellie came out, sloppily wiping ruffling her wet hair with the towel. her gaze wandered between the two of you and she raised her eyebrow, but her obliviousness made her shrug the weird feeling off. "how much time do we have?" she asked, ignoring abby's presence, who just went back to reading her book.

"less than an hour." you annouced, getting up and taking the towel out of her hand, replacing it with a little bottle you picked up from your bedside shelf. "drink up."

"the fuck is that?" she twirled the unappetizing green liquid around the glass, noticing it's weirdly dense texture.

abby chuckled, winking at you as if to laugh at your low standards. "just listen to your girlfriend."

you smiled at the blonde girl before looking back at ellie. "it's going to rain, i don't want you getting sick."

"yeah, we don't want to hear you whining like a baby just because you catched a little cold." abby added, smirking as you gave her the stare. her comment passed by ellie's ears, not getting any reaction out of her.

she downed the potion in a few sips, wincing and letting you take the glass bottle out of her hands. she took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the taste. "i'd rather be sick." you giggled and rised on your tiptoes to reach her forehead, placing a loving kiss on it. she smiled for a second, before her face flashed with a grimace again. "wait— it's going to what?"

"it's going to rainnn" abby cooed, mercilessly but melodiously drawing out the vowels. you frowned, seeming to be the only one who doesn't see a reason to panic. yet, ellie was now pacing around the room, stopping to look outside the window. the clouds above the horizon were, in fact, dark blue, what predicted a downpour.

you came up to her, wrapping your hands around her tensed waist. "are you scared of some water?" you teasingly asked, nuzzling your head in the crook of her neck.

"that's not the point." she turned around, taking your hand and parting her lips. you just knew you'll probably spend the next minutes listening to the rules of quidditch, hopefully not enough to be late. "you see, when it rains, it's usually quite... foggy. pretty hard to see anything, yeah?"

"yeah, but..." you walked towards the bed, ellie following closely after. "slytherins won't see anything too, so it's fair, isn't it?"

she quickly shook her head and pursed her lips in a tight line, as if disappointed you don't get it. "someone gifted them special lenses. someone— i mean, anonymously, but everyone knows who it is. their captain's father." she stood in front of you as you sat down, fiercely gesticulating. "fucking bastards. they think money can solve everything... well, it kinda does but—"

"can you shut the f..." abby chimed in, deciding against cussing in the last moment. "...up. jesus, i'm just trying to study." she rolled her eyes as the attention was now on her.

"what are you even studying?" ellie walked closer to her, trying to see the book's cover through the blonde girl's pulled up knees, which she used to lean the volume on.

abby was quick to get defensive, closing the item as soon as she made sure the tab is on a right page. "none of your business."

"it doesn't look like one of our student's books at all..." ellie teased, tauntingly smiling as she got closer.

you sighed, taking a deep breath before speaking. "come on, els, we gotta go - get you ready and everything." you stood up and started rummaging through the drawers to think what should you take with you. ellie nodded and left your dorm, promising she'll wait for you before entering the quidditch's pitch.

"you really should go, it can be fun." you friendly nudged abby's shoulder, trying to keep your eyes away from the pages of her book, which seemed to attract your gaze and curiosity.

she looked up at you, visibly annoyed that she has to repeat it for the hundredth time. "that's not my thing."

that's not my thing.

yet, about fifteen minutes after the match started, you felt her warm presence next to you. she didn't say a word, probably too embarrased to admit she somehow got convinced to get her priorities wrong.

yet, you could hear her breath hitch when she saw your rivals score another point. no matter how hard the rain would hit her, soaking through her clothes, she'd calmly stand her ground and squint her eyes to see how bad the situation is.

yet, you eventually noticed she was holding her wand the whole time. and you noticed how her grip tightened as she mumbled a few words under her breath, inaudible because of the cheers. you couldn't believe it, but after a few minutes the clouds turned purely white and bright sun rays made people take off their coats. the same abby anderson, who always had to be the best student, not letting herself be distracted from studying just broke one of the school rules.

"you know you're going to have problems if anyone finds out?" you innocently looked up at her, gratefully smilling.

"then don't snitch on me." she shrugged, admiring the weather, which was her own creation.

yet, she made gryffindor win.

✧˖°

let me know if you want to see more!

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest (2)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment, violence, swearing, self-destructive behavior ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He woke up suddenly pulling himself up to sit down, breathing loudly, his heart pounding so hard he thought he was dying. He looked around − he was alone in his bedroom, his room in semi-darkness, it was barely dawn. He swallowed loudly feeling his sweaty t-shirt stick to his back and ran his hand over his face, trying to calm himself down.

Every time he thought he had got over it, it all came back to him in nightmares.

Embarrassed, he found that his legs were shaking as he rose from the bed, heading towards his bathroom to take a shower. He stood under the rain of warm water and leaned his forehead against the wet, tiled wall, trying not to think about it, to push it out, to forget it.

He tried to focus on his classes, on the fact that he had to prepare, on the fact that his midterms were coming up soon as well as the deadline for his stained glass windows for his next church.

He needed to focus on his work.

He went to his workshop earlier than usual, taking only a cup of coffee with him, knowing that he wouldn't last alone at home anyway, with only one thing on his mind.

He felt like he was about to throw up and stopped for a moment, clenching his eyes shut. He swallowed loudly, acknowledging that the feeling had passed, and clicked the light switch on the side of the table, the pieces of glass he had cut earlier lit up in bright, intense colours.

He thought that although the glass had hurt him so many times, cutting his hands, in the end it rewarded his suffering with a beautiful final work that he hoped would last for centuries. In this case, he thought, his physical harm had a purpose, it was almost noble.

Unlike what had befallen him then.

He pressed his lips together at the thought, feeling sick again, and put down his brush of patina, putting his hands on the table and leaning back, tired.

He had no strength left.

He heard someone's footsteps − someone walked into his workshop, but did not greet him.

He shuddered when he smelled an intense female perfume beside him and stepped back like a man possessed, looking at Jason Lannister's student with wide eyes.

He felt like something had locked inside him, he couldn't move − the girl opened her mouth to say something, but he wouldn't let her.

"Get out. Immediately." He said coolly, feeling that his hands were trembling.

Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

The girl smiled at him in a way he hated, in a way that suggested she thought he was teasing her, that he was pretending.

"I only came to ask for advice on my work, Professor Lannister is absent today." She said surprised, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Get out." He repeated, louder this time, his heart pounding like a mad.

Whore.

Slut.

Bitch.

Get out.

"Are you so unpleasant to all female students, or just to me, Professor? Oh, I forgot, you don't accept women into your workshop. Fucking chauvinist." She growled, furrowing her brow, recognising that she had a right to judge him, to speak to him like that in his own workshop, to a professor who had achieved more in a few years than she would achieve in a lifetime.

"Get the fuck out." He hissed, looking at her menacingly, all tense, unable to get the smell of her perfume out of his nose, too much like her smell, then − he felt like he was about to really throw up though, his stomach twisting in an intense spasm.

The girl bit her lip, putting her hands at her sides, looking at him with some kind of pride, as if she thought she had the right to do so, to tell him how it was going to be, to bring him down to earth with her feminist bullshit.

"You have no right to speak like that to any woman, Professor. Do you understand? I demand an immediate apology." She said with certainty, from which he laughed out loud, shaking his head in disbelief. His face turned from amused to pale with rage, he saw fear and discomfort in her gaze.

"When Jason pats your ass you squeal with joy. Did you come here because you were hoping for the same thing? Then you were wrong. Now, get the fuck out." He hissed, shaking with anger and horror at the same time, her cheeks flushed scarlet.

She really thought he hadn't seen it?

It was things like this that he paid the most attention to.

He had fought for years to get all those fucking perverts thrown out, and because of students like her, Lannister believed that what he was doing was normal, healthy.

He felt a gag reflex in his throat and stepped back, swallowing loudly, trying to catch his breath.

You are such a pretty boy, Aemond.

Your eye, your scars don't bother me at all.

Why are you so tense?

He stepped back, horrified, as she came close to him, too close, looking at him with her lips clenched, her breasts exposed in a substantial cleavage rising and falling in uneven breaths.

All he could think about was wanting to pull away from her, but he couldn't move.

"I know very well that you are a worse pervert than he is. Why do you not accept girls into your workshop? Maybe you're afraid you'd rape them because none of them would ever want you of their own free will?" She hissed, and he slapped her face so hard that she fell to the floor.

He stared at her with his mouth wide open, panting loudly − she looked at him with resentment and horror, catching herself with her hand on her red cheek, not believing he had done it.

"I won't leave it like that, Professor. Have a nice day." She mumbled terrified, on the verge of crying, and walked out, leaving him alone.

He barely had time to run to the sink where the students washed their hands after finishing their work before he threw up.

Why are you so tense?

Just stay still and let me take care of myself.

Look, see?

You wouldn't be so hard if you didn't want it.

He was panting loudly, coughing in convulsions, trembling all over, clasping his hands on the metal sink. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing it was a panic attack, that it would pass soon, it would pass, it would pass, as it always, always had, and it would now too.

It took several long minutes before his heart stopped beating like mad, before his mind sobered again, before he felt he knew what was happening to him again.

He rinsed his mouth out quickly with cold water, washed his face with his hands and groaned low, terrified, knowing what awaited him now.

What he had done.

He was not surprised when, later that same day, the rector himself called him in.

He hadn't reacted as strongly when he reported to him that Jason was too fond of his female students and not every one of them was happy about it.

He listened calmly to the allegations, but when the man asked him to explain, he said nothing but what he really thought.

This slut deserved it.

If he could, he would slap her again.

She was just proof to him that he was right.

He didn't want any woman in his workshop.

His therapist was not happy to hear that.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, fiddling with the pen in his hand, and he sighed heavily.

"She suggested I might be a rapist. She came and threatened me in my own workshop. She came too close, she…"

"…violated your space." He finished calmly, and he pressed his lips together, tracing his chin with his fingers.

"Yes."

"What consequences will you face now?" The man asked him, correcting with a slight movement the glasses slipping off his nose. He sighed heavily, massaging his temple, no longer having the strength to think about it.

"None. I bring the university too much money from the curia. The girl won't press charges against me because I know about her relationship with Jason, but she's slandering me on some inferior gossip site. She implies that I was interested in her. Fucking bullshit." He chuckled, burying his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"Is this ever going to stop? I don't want to hurt any women. I just wish they wouldn't come near me anymore."

The next two years he faced the wry stares of other students and lecturers. He knew what they thought of him − that he had hit innocent young girl, that he was an abusive man with mental problems who needed psychiatric treatment.

If it had been a female student who had slapped him, everyone would surely have thought that he had obviously done something to deserve it, that he had picked on her or made immoral proposals to her.

The fact that he did it must have been because he was habitually violent.

Even if he tried to explain it to them, they would still think he had gone too far.

He didn't give a shit.

They couldn't destroy him any more than he already was.

He just wanted to be able to work in peace.

When he saw before the new semester in the system a woman's name on his attendance list for the second year of his specialisation he decided immediately that it was a simple mistake and went to the dean's office with it, wanting it fixed. The woman grunted loudly, looking at him uncertainly.

"It's not a mistake, Professor. She signed you in as her supervisor." She said, standing up, pulling out for him the documents she had submitted to confirm her words.

He looked through them quickly and clenched his eyes, feeling like he was about to explode.

Why?

Why couldn't he have holy peace?

He figured that he would simply not read her out during class, that he would pretend she didn't exist until she was discouraged. He had no intention of wasting his strength or attention on her.

That's what he did.

"She's not like that, Aemond. Really. She focuses on her work, she's diligent. Three times I made her start the same face over and she did it without saying a word. She is humble and learns quickly. It's a shame to give her up to waste to Jason or Floris." Said Cregan, massaging his chin, sitting across from him in his office.

His words surprised him, as it was the first time since they had worked together that he had tried to smuggle a girl into their workshop despite knowing what his opinion was on the subject.

"No. There are always problems with them sooner or later. She was almost crying by now. I don't want any weepy scenes in my workshop. I −" He paused as he heard a loud knock on the door, Cregan immediately got up and opened it.

He glanced over his shoulder surprised that he hadn't said anything and saw her notebook and pen.

He squeezed his eyes shut, running his hand over his face.

Fuck.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Please, find five minutes for me, Professor." He heard her soft, pleading tone. Cregan stepped back and it was only then that he saw her.

Although dressed like a boy, she had something of a girlish lightness about her − her face was pleasant, her eyes large, full of terror, surrounded by dark long lashes, her lips pressed into a tight line.

He figured that if he didn't let her say what she wanted she'd probably pester him with messages, and he didn't want that, so he hummed under his breath, took out his phone and turned on the stopwatch.

"Five minutes." He said lowly and heard Cregan walk out quickly leaving them alone.

He felt his heart pounding hard, his whole body trembling as he saw her take a step towards him.

"Don't come up, just stand there and talk. You're running out of time." He burst out coolly, clenching his hand into a fist, feeling his whole body take on a defensive form, ready to react aggressively immediately if necessary.

She, however, stepped back and swallowed loudly, looking down at her fingers, fiddling with her notebook in a nervous gesture.

"I know what rules you have set in your workshop and I wish very much now that I had been born a man, but unfortunately I am not." She muttered with difficulty, her voice trembling with fear. He felt a squeeze in his heart at her words and thought that it was indeed not her fault, but he couldn't help the way he was either.

"I saw your artworks while I was still in high school at St. John's Cathedral, and having always dreamed of creating stained glass for churches, I wanted to be taught by someone who is such an accomplished specialist in the field as you are. I know how difficult the job is and I promise to do what you tell me to do without a shadow of dissatisfaction. I will not approach you except to revise my designs or projects. I will always work at the furthest table and sit in the last seat as far away from you as possible, dressing in such a way that you do not notice me and forget my existence on a daily basis. Please." She uttered the last word pathetically, pleadingly, on the verge of crying.

He knew she cared and some part of him sympathised with her, but the other distrusted her, trying to see through the manipulation in her behaviour so notable for women.

He thought she talked about his work to please him, that she was cowering in front of him and trying to pass herself off as humble, where surely if he had only agreed she would have shown him her true face straight away.

They were all the same.

They dressed their disgusting desires in the most beautiful words.

You are such a pretty boy, Aemond.

He swallowed with difficulty, drawing in air quietly.

"Just because you're a fan of my works doesn't make you a talented person. What good is it to me that you work in silence if none of your pieces will be at least satisfactory and your colleagues will have to correct your mistakes?" He asked indifferently, glancing at her again. He could see that she was growing pale and stifled, her big eyes looking at him as if she was about to fall to her knees before him and beg him.

However, she did not.

"Well. All I have with myself now are quick sketches in my notebook. They're portraits of people I see travelling on the bus to my classes." She mumbled, looking at her notebook. He sighed heavily, burying his face in his hand, disbelieving that, knowing his attitude, she hadn't brought anything with her on which he could judge her artistic ability.

What an idiot.

"So you are unprepared." He summarised and saw out of the corner of his eye that she had moved restlessly.

"None of my colleagues had to −" She started with a frown, but closed her mouth immediately when she saw his disgruntled, warning look.

"− I − yes, I'm unprepared. I'm very sorry." She whispered in shame, lowering her gaze, and he sighed again, looking ahead, raising his hand in the air.

He heard her walk up to him and slip the notepad into his palm − he didn't smell any perfume, just the scent of some pleasant coconut shampoo and lotion.

He began to look through her sketches page by page, finding that they were ordinary, simple, not bad, but not good either. He stopped, however, at a depiction of a mother holding a child on her lap, sketched quickly with a simple outline and linear shading.

The composition made him think of Renaissance paintings depicting the Madonna and Child − a young woman was leaning slightly towards the infant, helping it to hold something in his small, clenched hand.

His attention was also drawn to a drawing of a thoughtful old man with carefully depicted wrinkles and an endless, lifelong weariness, some age-old wisdom flowing from his aged eyes outlined with such quick and simple movements.

He paused, too, at the drawing of the young man, his face almost resembling that of an angel sunk in deep sleep, leaning with his temple against the glass, his lips slightly parted.

He sighed heavily and massaged his forehead, himself not knowing what he thought of it, tired and discouraged. He raised his hand with her sketchbook without looking at her.

"Three of your fifteen sketches I would consider good. Do you think that's enough?" He asked dispassionately, hearing her move restlessly.

He thought for sure she was about to start crying and begging, saying that she would improve, that she could do better.

Bullshit.

"No. It's not enough." He heard her heartbroken voice and hummed under his breath, satisfied with her answer and any self-criticism, tossing her notebook into the bin with a slight movement, where it belonged.

He lifted his gaze to her, having the feeling that the matter was now settled and that if she had any doubts about whether she wanted him to teach her, they had just been dispelled.

He saw that she was looking at the spot where he had dumped her notebook in disbelief, her lower lip quivering slightly.

"So I'll do 200 sketches, 40 of which will be good. Or 300 of which 60 will be good. I will do as many of them as you see fit, Professor." She exhaled with difficulty, but with a kind of certainty and ferocity that surprised him. He felt a strange tightening in his stomach − he didn't know what to make of her words, feeling that this was a challenge of sorts.

He shuddered as he heard the ringing of his timer and reached for his phone, muting it, staring blankly ahead.

I will do as many of them as you see fit, Professor.

"400 sketches. And they're all supposed to be good. Without them, don't even show yourself to me. Anything else?" He asked coolly, impatient and angry with himself for not being able to discourage her enough, for not being able to find an answer to her words.

"No. Thank you for the chance, Professor." She mumbled in surprise and simply walked out, closing the door behind her.

A moment later, Cregan walked in, excited, pretending not to ask her at all what he had decided.

"And how did it go?" He asked, and he threw him a furious, tired look and stood up, taking his leather jacket from the back of his chair and walked out, slamming the door loudly.

He walked out in front of the university building through a side exit and fired up a cigarette while standing by his car, taking a deep drag of the smoke, clenching his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

He didn't want her at his place, he wished she would just leave him alone.

He looked around him with absent-minded eyes, seeing students entering and leaving from a distance − he spotted a face he recognised after a moment, but something didn't feel right.

The same girl who had begged him to let her study under his supervision was apparently just walking towards the bus stop, but instead of a long black hoodie and black trousers she was wearing a light-coloured dress with buff sleeves and long woollen socks to mid-thigh.

She had changed her clothes.

She came to his class covered up, dressed as a boy.

I know what rules you have set in your workshop and I wish very much now that I had been born a man, but unfortunately I am not.

I will always work at the furthest table and sit in the last seat as far away from you as possible, dressing in such a way that you do not notice me and forget my existence on a daily basis.

He was furious with himself for feeling some kind of shame and pain, knowing that she looked perfectly normal.

Now, looking at her sideways, he realised that if he had seen her dressed like that today when she came to talk to him, he would have immediately lost his good opinion of her.

Most girls who applied for a place in his workshop thought that the prettier they dressed, the sweeter and more appealing they looked, the better the chances were that he would say yes. However, his tendency was just the opposite and for some reason this girl knew it.

She knew she wasn't the problem, it was how he perceived her and she wanted to change that image in his eyes, to blend into the background.

He swallowed hard, taking a drag on the remainder of his cigarette, staring blankly ahead, realising that she really must have cared.

He figured that if she did what he told her to do, he'd give her one and only chance.

For that sacrifice, for the fact that she understood what he had a problem with.

She showed up only a week later with two thick folders filled with sketches, again dressed in a big black sweatshirt, black trousers and trainers.

For some reason, he felt a squeeze in his heart at the sight of her.

He took her to an empty classroom so he could look at her work without the curious stares of other students. He knew she had done as many sketches as he had told her to, but he didn't have the energy to look through them all.

"Lay them out here. Show me the top 40." He said impatiently, standing a good distance away from her with his hands folded behind his back, smelling that coconut shampoo again.

He saw that she gave him a quick, horrified look and parted her lips, looking at the thick bundle of papers she held in her hand. He rolled his eyes, trying not to explode.

"Can't you judge which of your works are suitable to be shown to me?" He growled warningly wanting her to pull herself together, but she shook her head quickly and began at last to choose.

He frowned as he saw that most of her works were copies and sketches of details from churches he knew well, at least dozens of them, so he decided that she had really taken his task to heart.

"That's enough." He commanded and stepped closer to the table − she moved away immediately.

He thought he liked how she respected his private space and allowed him to focus without her input on what he was seeing.

He leaned over her works, noticing that they were more refined than the ones he had seen before, still light, but also enigmatic and expressive, all drawn on scrap paper, so they reminded him of sketches by Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo.

He liked the fact that she had wisely chosen to portray saints and angels, as these were the most common commissions they received as a students or workshop, showing her skill in this field.

He picked up one of the sketches of a sculpture of the Virgin Mary which he knew intimately, having looked at it often as a child when he went to Mass every Sunday with his mother.

"Is that a figure from the church of St Michael the Archangel?" He asked indifferently, wanting to see if she knew what he was talking about, or if she was sketching by looking at pictures on the internet.

She, however, nodded quickly.

He hummed under his breath and stepped back, looking at everything she showed him from a distance, folding his hands behind his back again.

He thought he was pleased with the result of her work.

That he could give her a chance.

"A month. For a trial. If you disappoint me, I'll kick you out." He said lowly and walked out, leaving her alone with his words.

He stepped into the workshop and was met with curious, uncertain looks from his students.

"Don't you have anything to do?" He growled, and they immediately bent over their tasks and sketches, all around him the swish of a diamond knife and the sound of breaking glass, the rustling of paper and brushes.

Cregan walked up to him and stood over him, unable to contain his curiosity.

"And how did she do?" He asked quietly, but before he had time to answer him, he saw her standing in the threshold, pressing her sketches to her chest, looking at him questioningly.

He nodded for her to enter, and with a light, happy step she crossed that invisible, mysterious line that separated his world from everything else.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[concook20]

Wild Kratts New Backstory And Headcanons! (Crew)

I'm gonna redo backstory and their headcanons, I did do one before, but with new ideas and potential, I decided to redo my previous headcanons!

Up first is Crew, since I came up with the creature power suit design too, and I wanted you guys to check it out!

Full Name: Martin William Kratt

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Birthday: December 23rd

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Job Application: Animal Rescuer/Artist (Side Job)

Relationship:

Chris: Best Friend Ever!/Brother

Aviva: Best Friend

Koki: Best Friend Ever!/Previous Crush

JZ: Best Friend Ever!

Zach: Enemy

Khris: Moral Enemy

Donita: Enemy/Secret Past Relationship

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Moral Enemy

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Neutral/Don't Mind

Vert: Extrovert

Phobia: Coulrophobia (Fear Of Clowns)

Favoritism

Color: Blue and black

Singers: Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Metallica, Bruno Mars, Micheal Jackson, and KISS

YouTube: Game/Film Theory, Nick Crowley, and Markiplier

Animal: Falcon

Hobbies: Artistry (Sculpting, drawing, paint, etc.), playing guitar and drums, parkour, and surfing

Past Relationships

Martin used to date 3 people back then. One was when he was 13, and even at that age, he dated a 14 year old girl, who was mean, bossy, and threw stuff at Martin, whenever he didn't want to do anything, he broke up with her when he moved. He then dated a 16 year old boy, while being 17 as well, as they broke up after the two were falling apart. When he was 21, he dated a non-binary person, who was 19, only for it to end when Martin turned 24. He had a crush on Koki during high school, but she rejected him gently and told him she likes girls, which he understood and the two still remained friends.

Headcanons

Martin started an artistry side business, where he helps kids with improving their art, selling his own art to people who like it, and drawing people like the people who draw the people in funny designs and such.

In the group of friends, Martin's, not only help keep the group together and happy, but is also the dumb one

Martin has the mouth of the sailor, which can surprise anyone.

Martin has ✨ ADHD ✨

Martin can go feral whenever something happens to the crew or family, ESPECIALLY, to Chris. So watch out! The reason why he's overprotective is that there was an incident with Chris, which made him turned against his father and vows to keep Chris safe, no matter what.

Each Valentine's day, he always watches Pedro Pascal edits.

Martin is in therapy to control his anger issues and his anxiety.

Martin gives me Narrator, from the Boys vibes, prove me wrong!

Martin makes stupid dad jokes, no matter how much people hate it.

Martin used to have long hair, but he cut it short after his hair got pulled a couple of times.

Martin gets to have his Christmas early, since his birthday was a couple of days earlier, and it sometimes makes him annoyed.

Martin and JZ always rambled a lot to each other, to the point they, even, make jokes about making a podcast.

Martin always goes to the zoo and imitates some animal noises.

Martin does funny pranks, they're tamed and funny, but still, the crew could be annoyed by it.

When he wakes up, he has a Sam Elliott's voice, like deep and almost sounded western.

Martin is a love expert, and even if he's dumb sometimes, he's also an amazing lover and partner, since he'll never forget how long you dated or your favorite flowers.

Martin has a fear of clowns, the reason why is because when he was 3, he and his mom went to the circus. He enjoyed the show, but he needed to use the bathroom and left, without informing his mother, but as he went to find the bathroom, a clown saw and followed him. Martin noticed, and got scared as the clown tried to take him and pull him into a room. He panicked, screamed, cried, and tried to pull away, before his mother saw and yelled at the guy, as he ran off, turned out that guy didn't work at the circus, as he tried to kidnap boys for his own sick dreams.

Full Name: Christopher Fredrick James Kratt

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: July 19

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Job Application: Animal Rescuer/Low-class Singer (Side Job)

Relationship:

Martin: Best Friend Ever!/Brother

Aviva: Best Friend Ever!

Koki: Best Friend

JZ: Best Friend Ever!

Zach: Secret Friend/Crush

Khris: Neutral/Don't Mind

Donita: Enemy

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Enemy

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Neutral

Vert: Ambivert, Mostly Extrovert

Phobia: Nyctophobia (Fear Of Darkness)

Favoritism:

Color: Green and black

Singers: NF, Melanie Martinez, Bruno Mars, Rihanna and Nico Collins

YouTube: Game/Film/Food Theory, Nick Crowley, Sam and Colby, and Coryxkenshin

Animal: Cheetah

Hobbies: Reading, trees and rock climbing, archery, and singing.

Past Relationships

Chris hasn't been in the dating game, though, he did date someone back then. The girl was a popular cheerleader at high school, when Chris was 16 and a nerd back then, but she embarrassed Chris during high school for being a nerd and embarrassingly clumsy or shy. Chris was humiliated, but he turned it to determination as he worked out, changed his outfits, and felt confident... While being insecure.

Headcanons

Before Chris wanted to do animal rescuing, he used like singing. He has an amazing voice, but he never sings in front of anyone, even Martin, but when he's alone, he sings to music he listens to.

In the friend group, Chris is the same thing as Martin, but he's smart enough to behave... Sometimes.

Chris loves his brother Martin, but the one thing he doesn't like is him being over protective, it makes him smothered, annoyed, and jealous how Martin can do anything, while Chris has to 'be careful', but Martin doesn't know, cause Chris doesn't wanna hurt his feelings, so he keeps it pent up.

Chris has ✨ Autism ✨

Even if Chris dated a beautiful girl, he has a huge crush for goths.

On his birthday, he collects rocks that are left on his window, making him confused, but keeps anyways cause they're pretty.

Chris knows 2 languages, German and Spanish.

Chris is a picky eater, he has certain tastes he hates like olives, pickles, burgers, mustard, etc. And mostly a health nut.

Chris is a romantic person but they hide it very well, after getting humiliated, and if he shows it, he's very clumsy, when doing so.

Chris is the #1 hater of Martin's jokes.

Chris is an insomniac, which he hates to be.

The brothers will eat a pepper, but Chris wouldn't feel it, even when his brother is dying.

Chris was kidnapped for ransom when he was 16, while his father forced him to go to the store to get some food for the family. His father wasn't even going to pay the kidnappers the ransom money, since he is very greedy and he thinks its punishment for being bisexual... He was found a couple of weeks later, traumatized and scared of the dark.

Backstory

Martin and Chris were both brothers in the Kratt Family, with their parents names being Linda and William Kratt and they have twin young sisters, named Christine and Susan, who were 18. Their parents got into a divorce, when Linda found out William cheated on her, and the siblings got to choose where to stay, where Susan and the brothers chose to stay with their mother in Canada.

Chris's relationship with his parents is half good and bad, good is his mother, who loves him, cares for him, and even supported him when he came out as bisexual, however, his father is distant, cruel to both brothers, tries to force sexism and his business job into them, and homophobic, where he outright hates Chris for being bisexual, making Chris heartbroken, as he was a daddy's boy.

Martin's relationship was like Chris's, only with him being a mama's boy and he despised his father, when he was 19 years old and Chris went missing. After he found out his dad literally sent Chris to he captured and wasn't going to pay his brothers freedom, he let out all of his anger and went feral, to the point he left his father bruised, bloody, and scared. He hated him ever since, and never even went into contact with him after he took Wild Kratt's idea and made it real.

The brothers love for the sisters is like the parents, where the two love Susan, who adores them, and sees Martin as a father figure, and supports Chris, even buying him a pride flag. However, they don't like Christine that much, since she's a total daddy's girl, where Martin felt bad for Christine for liking the man, and Chris is jealous of Christine for her getting the love while he can't.

Martin wanted to save animals when he was young, after watching an animal show, where there are bad people who take good and wonderful creatures and hurt them for their own selfish needs, so he vows to save any animals, be it pets, birds, rodents, even some insects. His father thinks it's dumb, while most people don't like Martin saving any animals, but his mother, sister, and Chris supports this idea, even with Chris joining in, and that actually helps Martin out to save many animals.

Martin got the idea to save animals around the world, but was hesitant to hire Chris, who begged and was excited to join, because he heard he'll have to face people who tries to hurt these sweet animals, and he's worried his brother would be hurt, but after thinking about it, and some reassurance and excitement from Chris, he, reluctantly, agreed, and thus! The Kratt Brothers created the Wild Kratts Show!

Full Name: Aviva Carmen Maria Corcovado

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: February 7th

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Job Application: Wild Kratts Inventor

Relationship:

Martin: Best Friend

Chris Best Friend Ever!

Koki: Best Friend Ever!/Crush

JZ: Best Friend

Zach: Moral Enemy

Khris: Neutral

Donita: Enemy

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Enemy

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Don't Mind

Vert: Ambivert

Phobia: Claustrophobia (Fear Of Closed Spaces)

Favoritism:

Colors: Purple, golden brown, and white

Singers: Taylor Swift, Rihanna, Shawn Mendes, Camilla Cabello, and Elvis Presley

YouTube: Steve Reviews, Valkyrie, and ASMR

Animal: Chinchilla

Hobbies: Yoga, jogging, gymnastics, and dancing

Past Relationships

Aviva was forced into in only one, which ended badly. Aviva dated a guy when she was 18 and heading to college, only to find out her boyfriend was a controlling, abusive cheater, who tries to keep Aviva where she lives, so he can control her, but once she left, he began to stalk and follow her, to the point she put a restraining order on him, but... He breaks it, though, she doesn't know... Yet.

Headcanons

In the group of friends, Aviva is definitely the mom friend, taking care of the group, including the brothers.

Aviva wears glasses, but she has ok visions without them, too, but mostly, she wears glasses.

Aviva is very flexible, since she used to do gymnastics when she was 7.

Aviva couldn't handle criticism, so be careful with what you say.

Aviva chews her nails when she is nervous.

Aviva cries while watching disney movies.

Without MatPats theories, Aviva knows the FNAF Lore.

Aviva hates being alone.

Like Chris, Aviva knows some languages too, like French, German, Russian, and Italian.

Aviva got a secret admirer from poems, which makes her gushy and giddy, or nervous and scared, due to her ex.

Aviva has a fear of closed spaces, because during her relationship with her abusive boyfriend, he got angry and shoved her into a crate, locked her in, and buried her alive. She was panicking, scared as this didn't happen to her before, until a few hours after her panicking, Aviva's sister came to visit and let her out, worried. That's when they broke up and she hates closed spaces.

Backstory

Aviva has a mother, named Imelda, sister, named Tia, step father, named Eduardo, and step brother, named Roman. She has a father, named Carlos, who was an inventor and shown Aviva his greatest invention, even making suits for people whenever he needs. But he died, when she was 3 and her sister was 2, from a car crash, she missed him deeply, to the point she wanted to follow his footsteps of being an inventor.

She loves her mom and sister dearly, while they love and care for her, even supporting her dreams of being an inventor. She doesn't like her step dad and brother, however, as they're sexist jerks, trying to make Aviva give up on her dream, even setting her up with her ex. She hates them, but used their rudeness and sexist remarks as fuel for her determination, as she began to go to college and get a job at the Wild Kratts.

Full Name: Brianna 'Koki' Lawrence Thompson

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Birthday: November 13th

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Job Application: Wild Kratts Technician

Relationship:

Martin: Best Friend Ever!

Chris: Best Friend

Aviva: Best Friend Ever!/Crush!

JZ: Best Friend

Zach: Enemy

Khris: Enemy

Donita: Moral Enemy

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Enemy

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Neutral

Vert: Ambivert, Mostly Introvert

Phobia: Hemophobia (Fear Of Blood)

Favoritism:

Color: Red, yellow, and pink

Singers: Rihanna, Taylor Swift, P!NK, and Nicki Minaj

YouTube: ASMR

Animal: Snowy owl

Hobbies: Meditation or relaxing, cosplaying, acting (musical and plays), and working out

Past Relationships

Koki used to date a couple of girls in college, it didn't end well, as the first girl was straight and pretended to date Koki for a place to stay, while cheating on Koki with a guy she was with before. The second relationship was a bet-like relationship, like the person bet they can date that person for a while. Well Koki began to close off on love in general, until she met Aviva and began to fall for her.

Martin did confess his feelings for Koki, but she rejected him for two reasons, her sexuality and her struggle with love. Martin can relate and offer to help her find love, so when he finds out she likes Aviva, he mostly helps her out by either getting them to hang out together or even leaving gifts for Aviva, as Koki gave him an ok to do so.

Headcanons

In the group of friends, Koki's the one gay emo best friend. She is closed off from everyone, but her group of friends, which is the crew.

Koki has a creature power suit like the trio, but she rarely uses the suit, unless it's absolutely necessary.

Koki enjoys wearing grunge or gothic like outfits, it makes her feel comfortable and relaxed.

Koki forgets to eat most of the time.

Koki suffers from depression, which she's getting better from with therapy.

Koki is an insomniac.

Koki instinctively cleans messes in their own house as well as other peoples.

Koki writes poems for people she likes, even Aviva, which Martin gives to Aviva in secret.

Koki eats spicy food like Chris, and sometimes, the two battle it out to see who can eat more spice... Never ends well.

When she was around 2 to 3, she got abused by her mom as she cut and hurt Koki, to the point she bleeds, making her panic more which gets her hurt more than before. She began to be nervous around blood, making her even scared of before, making her freeze up, when she sees blood.

Backstory

Like I said, she was abused by her alcoholic mother, named Brianna, who was in a divorce with her father, named Axel, who has another family with a mom, Michonne, with 2 sons and a daughter, 21 year old named Marion, 18 year old named Julian, and a 17 year old named Becca, she has a twin brother, but they got separated, due to him being sold away to another family, since her mother don't want to deal with two kids, sadly, Koki never got the chance to find him. Koki hated staying with her mom, even changing her name to Koki, since she was named after her mother, so she goes by the name her father wanted to name her instead of her mother, which was his mother's name, Koki.

After she moved out of her mom's when she was 4, she bonded with her new family. Michonne treats her like a daughter and Koki adores her like a mother, while her siblings bond with her like siblings. She was intrigued by her father's tech skills, and he taught her how to do it, since the others don't seem interested in it. After she went to college and went to join the Kratts, the family supported her, meanwhile she cut off her mother for good.

Full Name: Jimmy Zander 'JZ' Sanders

Age: 21

Gender: Transgender Male

Sexuality: Aroace

Birthday: April 23rd

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Job Application: Pilot of the Wild Kratts

Relationship:

Martin: Best Friend Ever!

Chris: Best Friend Ever!

Aviva: Best Friend

Koki: Best Friend

Zach: Enemy

Khris: Enemy

Donita: Neutral

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Moral Enemy

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Neutral/Don't Mind

Vert: Introvert

Phobia: Astraphobia (Fear Of Thunder And Lightning)

Favoritism

Colors: Orange and teal

Singers: Billie Eilish, NF, Eminem, The Weeknd, and Melanie Martinez

YouTube: Game/Film/Food Theories, Jacksepticeye, Markiplier, H2O Delirious, Vanoss, Coryxkeshin, and Cartoonz

Animal: Raven

Hobbies: Playing video games, napping or chilling, cooking or baking, and watching YouTube.

Past Relationships

JZ didn't get into a relationship, in fact, he doesn't really think much of it, he doesn't really mind, since he has friends with the crew, who supports him, no matter what. He's just happy to be there, you know?

Headcanons

JZ was a big fan of anime, not those weird ones, like MHA, Death Note, Attack On Titans, Demon Slayer, and Spy x Family, though, no one knows, cause he doesn't wanna look weird.

In the group of friends, JZ is the quiet guy who keeps it to himself, unless someone wants to talk to him.

JZ is the baby of the group, since he's the youngest, which they care for and protect him. He doesn't mind it, but it makes him feel smothered and weak, so he sometimes thinks about sneaking off to fight bad guys like Martin and Chris.

JZ suffers from anxiety and PTSD.

JZ is in therapy most of the time, in order to control his fears.

JZ has a snack stashed hidden somewhere, where no one, not even his closest friends, even know where it is.

JZ enjoys Martin's dumb jokes, or anything dumb to laugh at.

JZ will remind others in the midst of chaos how good he's being.

JZ was banned from drinking energy drinks.

JZ plays games like Doki Doki, FNAF, and Detroit Become Humans.

JZ is a sleepwalker, and Chris and Koki know about it.

JZ has a creature power suit, but it is very, very, very, very, VERY rare to see him with one.

JZ has noise canceling headphones when he's stressed or scared when a storm comes. He uses them at night to sleep, and if he doesn't have them, he has bad dreams about his parents death and the car accident he was in as a 2 year old.

Backstory

Out of the group, JZ has the calmest backstory here, though it did start with tragedy. He had two loving parents back then, until they died in a car accident on a stormy night, as a thunder struck onto a tree and it fell, crushing the car the family was in. People got JZ out, but his parents died, when the car, immediately, exploded with the two. JZ was horrified by storms since then, as he lost his parents from it.

JZ has to move in with his grandparents, who adore and care for him. His grandmother, Wanda, began to teach him how to cook, knit, and crochet, it helps him feel relaxed and happy to spend time with her. His grandpa, Connor, told him the story of how he used to fly a plane, where JZ was inspired and began to try to save the money to go to flying school.

His grandparents did die tragically, but JZ has nowhere else to go, so he had to stay at the shelter, until he met up with Chris again, who offered him a place to stay, which was the Tortuga, and the group is finally made!

Finally! Made The Crew's New Bio! Hope You Guys Like It! Villains Are Up Next!

[ateriblewriter]

Mr. Mom (q.h)

Family is Everything Series

Series Masterlist

Requests

enjoy

March 2025

“Ugh. Quinn.” You looked over at your husband. You had just gotten sick for the second time that morning, and you were feeling worse by the minute. “Quinny.” You moaned painfully again.

“Honey?” Quinn woke up rubbing his eyes hearing you call out for him from the bathroom. He looked over and saw you haunched over the toilet with pale clammy skin. “What’s wrong?” He rushed over to your side.

“What do you think Q? I’m -” You were cut off once again by another wave of nausea, making you cough up the contents of your stomach once again. Quinn just sat there on the side of the bathtub holding your hair back, and rubbing small circles on your back.

When you were done, Quinn carried you back to bed. He didn’t need to take your temperature, he already knew you were sick and that your temp would be high.

Just then baby Beck started to cry, a ‘wake up mom I’m hungry cry’. You try and sit up only to have your husband gently push you back down onto the bed.

“I need to get the Beck.” You try to get up again, and Quinn pushes you down once again. “Q, please. I don’t feel good and my baby is crying and he’s hungry. If I don’t get him soon, he’s going to wake up Hattie and then she’s going to be crabby for the rest of the day.” You were starting to get a little worked up, you hated hearing your children cry.

“No you need to rest. I’m going to feed Beck, then I’m going to call in and tell them that I can’t come in today. I’ll check in on you in a bit.” The tired father of two rubbed his eyes getting up to get the six-month-old baby boy.

“Don’t forget that you have to heat the milk up with warm water.” You wanted to go get the hungry baby but you also knew that Quinn would be able to handle his own.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know.” Quinn mumbled walking out the door.

Mid Morning

“Hattie girl, what are you doing?” Quinn ask his daughter, who was currently coloring in one of her coloring books.

“Nothing.” She giggled looking at her father. Hattie had taken the stickers from her coloring book and placed them all over her face and arms.

“Trix, those are going to hurt to get off.” he looked over to her and saw what she was doing.

“No they won’t.” She continued to place stickers on her arms.

“Well then don’t come crying to me when it’s time to take them off.” Quinn went back to making macaroni and cheese for lunch.

After Nap Time

“Beck Elias Hughes, stay still. Why do you have so much energy? You literally just woke up.” Quinn muttered to himself as he tried to keep the baby still long enough to take the diaper off and put a new one on.

“I will pay you money if you stay still young man.” That seemed to get Beck’s attention because he sat still long enough for him to get the dirty diaper off.  He was just grabbing the new diaper when he felt something warm on his other hand.

“Dude. Really? I thought we out grew this months ago, don’t be like your uncle” He groaned quickly getting the new diaper on before Beck made more of a mess. The baby just giggled and smiled at his daddy. “Yeah you think that’s funny? It’s not. How does Mommy put up with you and all your silliness?” Quinn joked once he was done and washed his hands.

Before Dinner

“What would you like for dinner Trix?” Quinn asked the little girl who was playing with her dolls quietly in the living room. How he had managed to stay sane today while he played Mr. Mom, he will never know. But he made it this far and it was going good so far.

“Mac and cheese.” Hattie looked up at him and smiled widely. She loved mac and cheese. She loved it so much she could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if they would let her.

“No. You had that for lunch. How about we have pizza or something like that.” Quinn suggested holding Beck on his hip as he looked in the freezer eyeing all the food choices in there.

“NO. Mac and Cheese.” Hattie yelled, she was not going to give in. She wanted her noodles. Even though she had them earlier, she wanted them again.

“Hattie Beatrix. We’re going to have pizza. I know you like pizza. Why don’t you come over here and help me choose which one we should have.” Quinn just chose the entree. He knew his daughter would eat it, she wasn’t a picky eater, and she would like it.

“Ugh fine.” Hattie got up from her spot and trudged over to her father. She wasn’t too excited about this idea, but she was starting to get hungry. “Pepperoni.” She pointed to the froze pizza box her father held out for her.

Bed Time

Shortly before the kids were supposed to be in bed, you were starting to feel a lot better, and you had decided that you would say goodnight to the little kiddos and tell them how much you loved them. You had gotten to Hattie’s door when you stopped and heard the conversation that was going on.

“Daddy?” Hattie snuggled into bed.

“Yes Trixie?” Quinn came over to her bed and sat down on it.

“Can you tell me a story?” She asked rubbing her eyes. She was tired, but still wanted a nighttime story to lull her into sleep mode.

“What do you want the story to be about?” He was still holding the baby, who didn’t want to go to sleep either. He started coming up with fun little stories to tell his daughter. But the answer she gave her was the most surprising thing.

“Tell me about when you fell in love wif Mommy.” She yawned, but still looked at her father.

Quinn smiled. He loved telling his daughter that story. It was his favorite. “Well, when I first met Mommy, I didn’t really like her. I thought she was Uncle Jack’s  annoying friend. And if she was being honest, she would say the same thing. But Uncle Jack would say it was love at first sight.” He continued on with the story. By the time he was done, he had two sleeping babies. He placed a soft kiss on Hattie’s head, then he went to place Beck in his crib next door.

When he exited the he finally saw you standing there. “Hey you look a lot better than this morning.”

“I feel a lot better.” You smiled wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you for taking care of the kids today Quinny.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged and placed he snaked his arms around you.

“I love you.” you smiled. You wanted to kiss him but you knew you probably shouldn’t.

Quinn kissed you not caring that he might stand the chance of getting sick. He didn’t care, he had everything he ever wanted and he wanted to show you just how much he loved you and appreciated what you did with that one kiss.

“I love you too.”

let me know what you think. comments, complaints, suggestions are all welcome.

[lunajay33]

Destiny Part.2🐺

Summary: Paul has just shifted to his new life as a wolf and feels empty without his imprint hoping he finds her soon, y/n just moved to forks to live with her dad and sister Bella and decides to go to the bone fire to make new friends

Part.1

The fire was slowly dying down and I was growing tired but I didn’t want to leave Paul

“Y/n come on we’re going home now” she said as she stood up, she always just ordered me around

“But I don’t want…” but she interrupted me

“No we’re going now let’s go” everyone went silent and I felt extremely embarrassed

I stood up and looked down at Paul

“I’ll see you later right?”

“Ya of course we are always at the beach so come by anytime, I’d love to see you again” he said making me smile, I felt like a little girl again with a huge crush

“Y/n I’ll leave without you” she yelled as she was getting in her truck

“Thank you everyone for having us!” I said respectfully as I hurried to the truck

Paul POV~

She was so beautiful and so kind, she is perfect to me, even when we were younger and I’d see her play with the others I always thought she was cute

“Dude did you imprint on her?” Embry asked

“I think I did” I’ve never felt this calm before

“Congrats Paul, she’s a good one, but I know she’s shy so don’t scare her, be patient with her” billy said

“I will, I promise”

Y/n POV~

I got out of the truck and walked up the stairs to the house

“What was all that about back there?” Bella asked seeming mad

“What do you mean?” I opened the door stepping into the warm feeling of home, the smell of dads mediocre cooking

“With Paul you were both all over each other” she followed me into the kitchen where dad was

“What’s the big deal we were just talking”

“Woah what’s going on girls?”

“Why don’t you tell him y/n” bella exclaimed

“Bella I don’t know what’s your problem I was just talking to Paul what’s the big deal he’s nice to me” I said feeling like she was taking things out on me

“Bella, Paul’s a fine kid what’s the problem, she went to make more friends anyways” dad said stepping in for me, knowing how this stuff overwhelmed me

“I don’t want her near him”

“You can’t tell me what to do, I’m sick of you bossing me around, I can have my own life too I hate having to live around what you want” I yelled as I ran up to my room

First she embarrassed me infront of everyone at the bonfire and now she’s mad at me for talking to Paul, I’m sick of her it’s not my fault her boyfriend left, now we were left with her awful attitude

I fell asleep crying, waking up with red and puffy eyes, I walked to the bathroom and threw my hair up into a ponytail and washed my face

It was still pretty early so I quietly left the house and getting on my motorbike, dad couldn’t afford to get me a truck like Bella but I didn’t mind

I drove down to the La push beach just wanting to get away from the house, she wouldn’t let this go and I knew it so it’s best to stay away from her

I wasn’t paying attention and lost my balance, skidding across the ground

I screamed out in pain feeling my skin rip across the ground, I laid there trying to focus and calm down

I moved my arms and legs, I don’t think anything was broken but I was still in intense pain, I slowly and painfully got up, picking up my bike trying to kick start it, thankfully it still worked

I decided to drive to Emily’s house since she was like an aunt to me, she always made me feel better when I’d come and visit

I jumped off my bike, removing my helmet and slowly making my way up the stairs when I heard laughter coming from the field, I looked over to see all the boys running out of the woods shirtless, I spotted Paul and bursted into a blush but then he saw me and ran up to me

“Oh my god what happened to you” he said as he looked over all my cuts and burns

“I…I fell off my bike” I said looking down

“Come on I’ll fix you up” he said as he placed his hand on my lower back, leading me into the house

“Here sit down and I’ll be back with the first aid kit” he said as he hurried up the stairs

“Oh dear are you okay?” Emily asked as she saw me in her couch

“Dont worry I’m okay” she placed a glass of water infront of me

Paul came back and sat infront of me between my legs

“How’d you fall?” He asked as he cleaned my cuts

“It’s nothing”

“You can trust me, I’ll always be here for you” he said making me smile

“It’s bella she always tries to tell me what to do, she got mad at me last night so I just lost focus and fell when I was driving”

“What was she mad about? She seemed mad when you were leaving last night too”

“She gets like that, she likes to boss me around but she was mad because…..because I was with you, I don’t know why though you’re so nice”

“I’m sorry, I hate seeing you like this, I just want you happy, can I make you feel better in anyway?” He asked as he finished patching me up

“Just stay with me”

Part.3<-

[lokis-army-77]

Wander

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 726

Just a short blurb based on the fact that I am the friend that wanders off and I was a leash child of my own choice. (which explains a lot)

Warning: drinking, wandering off

Masterlist 

"Where the fuck is she?" Panic filled Eddie's voice as he looked around the bar frantically.

"What?" Asked Steve who had just finished off his fourth drink of the evening.

"My girlfriend. You know the girl that was literally right beside us ten seconds ago." Eddie waited his hands in the empty space between them.

"Oh yeah... I don't know."

"You're useless when you're like this you know?" Eddie shook his head and backed away from the table. Pushing his way through the inebriated crowd, he kept his eyes wide and searched for any glimpse of you.

You weren't on the dance floor and you weren't at the bar. Eddie searched and searched, coming up empty-handed, even after searching both unisex bathrooms. You weren't in the building at all and he was freaking out.

"I fucking take my eyes off her for one second and she wanders off. Jesus Christ." Eddie pulled his hair at the scalp, frustration coming through.

You on the other hand were contently swinging your feet under you as you sat on the high bench just outside the bar. To your right, a stray fluffy dog who placed his head next to your bare legs looking to be pet. You obliged, scratching the top of his head and behind his ears, earning some open-mouthed pants.

"Such a good puppy aren't you?" You cooed at the dog who have a soft bark, almost like he was answering you.

The night air was cool on your skin, a lot of it being exposed by the dress you had chosen to wear on this special night of celebrating your friend finally landing his, what Robin called, "big boy job".

Even though it was cold, it felt better than the sweltering heat inside the bar. And the new fluffy friend made up for the chill as well.

You had been setting outside for a good twenty minutes before the door slammed open and heavily booted feet crunched on the gravel towards you.

"Holy hell, Sweetheart, what the fuck were you thinking? I've been looking for you all over." Eddie's worried voice cut through the night.

You tore your gaze away from the dog to look up at your boyfriend. Smiling you said, "Sorry Eds, just got a little hot s'all." You're words were slurring together thanks to the shots Steve had ordered earlier.

"Baby, you can't just leave without telling me. You had me worried to death."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "I did tell someone, I told Steve."

Eddie shook his head, hand coming to rub down his face with a sigh. "Honey, Steve is drunk, he can't remember what he had for lunch, much less almost half an hour ago. Next time you tell me." He got down on one knee in front of you, one hand coming up to your cheek. "Especially when I'm the only one in the group who's sober."

The dog beside you wagged his tail in excitement at the new person, pushing his head into Eddie's chest. He got what he wanted as Eddie began absent-mindedly petting him with his other hand.

Even though you were drunk you didn't miss the mischievous look Eddie got. Then he turned his eyes toward you and you asked, "What?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Well if you don't stop running from me when you get even the slightest bit tipsy in public, I think we're gonna have to get you a leash."

You gasped. "Eddie no."

"Oh, why not princess?"

"Because leashes are for dogs," you give an exaggerated point to the dog beside you, "and small children who can't be trusted."

"Yeah and who can't be trusted when they've invested alcohol? Hum? You." Eddie's matter-of-fact tone made you huff knowing he was right but you argued anyway.

"I can be trusted."

Eddie raised his eyebrow.

"I mean it."

"Yeah right, Sweetheart. I'll believe it when I see it. But for now, I think you might need one so I can keep my eye on you."

"Well, I think this is some sick fantasy of yours." You giggled when the dog began to lick at your hand to get you to pet him again.

"Oh, you know it, baby." Eddie laughed along. "Now come on, we need to get you and especially Steve home before I end up babysitting you both all night."

[missybee-writes]

Shadow in the Dark: Chapter Four - Code Name, Farrah Fawcett

Genre: Sci-fi; Romance; Horror

Warnings: (eventual) sexual content; violence; gore; swearing; alcohol and drug use.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC

Summary

In July ‘85, an ambitious realtor sells the crumbling Creel house to a family looking for a new start.

Rose McAllister may be living in a grand and gothic murder house in a small Midwest town, but senior year in high school is the stuff of her nightmares: a last chance at a normal school year without being the odd one out, the sick girl, the weirdo from across the pond. Blend in, make it through the year, and make some friends. Stay unnoticed at all costs.

Hawkins, and one seriously loud-mouthed metalhead, is about to flip that carefully laid plan Upside Down.

Chapter one: Cursed

Chapter two: Munson Magic

Chapter three: Fearless

Ao3 link

---

“Never?” Dustin asked, his muffled squeal cutting through the quiet atmosphere in the study desk buried in the corner of the library, behind the physics and math section. “Not even once, not at all?”

Rose shrank away from the harsh stare of the librarian, whispering over the pages of the book. “Nope. Never heard of him.”

“Al Yankovic,” Dustin said, like he was talking about the President or the bloody Queen. “Weird Al. My Bologna, Another One Rides the Bus....Eat It? Seriously ? I thought you had MTV.”

“Sorry,” Rose said apologetically. “Is he funny?”

Dustin took off his cap and ran his hand through his curly hair; a memory from Monday made her own head tingle in sympathy the near scalping by Eddie, his rings intruding on what might have been a very romantic moment. Focus, McAllister.

“Uh, does a black hole emit Hawking radiation?” Dustin asked, completely confident in his own knowledge on the subject.

“Yes?” Rose bit her lip, trying to recall. “I take chem and biology though, not physics.”

Dustin’s mouth gaped open, braces glistening in the overhead fluorescent lights. He was weirdly charming. Something about him reminded her of Eddie. “Well, you should listen to his songs. His videos are hilarious too. Me and the guys, we laughed so hard when we heard I Love Rocky Road, it’s the best. Lucas pretends he’s too cool for it, but I see him trying to hold back his laughter. He can’t fool me.”

“Dustin,” she asked tentatively, chewing on the end of her pencil. “How did you get into D&D?”

His eyes brightened at her genuine interest and wondered how many people truly got to know the quirky kid, beyond his immediate friendship group. “Will and MIke were huge on it. They were best friends with Lucas since the first year of kindergarten, but I didn’t move to Hawkins until fourth grade. It was kinda hard for me to make friends. Zach was bullying me a lot, and he...” he trailed off, his mouth pressed in a thin line, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “He, uh, kicked the crap outta me in the boys bathrooms, so I was upset, and Will came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be a magical spellcaster, and kick the ass of an ogre. And it was kind of awesome , and then we became friends.”

“I can’t even imagine the other guys without you,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “You’re like the heart of the group, and the brain too. Possibly the guts and the spine, and the funny bone. You’re all the good bits. But don’t tell them I said that.”

Dustin ducked his head and almost blushed, smiling like a goon. “I don’t know.”

“Well it looks like it to me,” Rose reassured him. 

He scoffed and waved away her compliment, with a weird little squeal that she found incredibly endearing. 

She was surprised to hear Dustin was the newest in the little friendship group. Where he went, Mike usually followed, and whilst Lucas seemed to be torn between Hellfire and basketball, he had an easy familiarity around the other two that spoke of long years of friendship and growing up with an unshakeable bond. Rose was fascinated by the way they understood each other's jokes and communicated without words. Envy burned in the back of her throat, for she saw in the freshmen boys what she had always longed for; someone who had seen you at your very best and worst, and who stood by you anyway.

It might be too late for Rose, but on the bright side, she wasn’t exactly alone, either. Dustin had been so thrilled at the prospect of helping her build a character that she couldn’t refuse his help, particularly when she knew so little about Dungeons and Dragons and the mechanics of the game. He was giving up his Friday lunch to help her.

Beyond that, the Hellfire guys said hello to her in the hallway, and welcomed her to the group. Tuesday and Thursday of this first full week at school had seen her at Hellfire’s lunch table; the first day, she was the complete focus of the lunch hour, much to her embarrassment. They peppered her with questions and stared at her until Eddie had to call them to order, requesting they back off and leave the lady alone. By Thursday, after she spent Wednesday hanging out with Robin, the Hellfire boys seemed to regard her as a permanent fixture, a piece of the furniture when she sat down at the table. Except for the pestering about her character, and harassing Eddie about tonight's campaign, of course. 

And Robin too, she was becoming a friend. She was going through a difficult time, clearly affected by the fire that killed so many people over the summer, finding it difficult to engage with her old friends after being right there during the tragedy. Rose could understand to some degree, she found it hard to carry on with old friendships after her illness. In a way, they could start fresh, a friendship with no before mall fire or before her surgery clouding the view of who they were right now.

Then there was their dungeon master, the leader, the glue of the club. The reason for her heart skipping a beat as she arrived at school each morning, searching for a telltale Chevy van or a big mane of frizzy hair, leather and denim. Her eyes scanning the parking lot, the hallway, or anywhere at all, really. The reason she lay listening to metal songs deep into the night, curled up in the window seat of her attic, examining every interaction, every glance and touch over the last week, trying to kid herself that it was just a new friendship, not getting her hopes up in case it was some kind of mistake, or he acted like this around every girl at school. But if she had any hope of concentrating she had to nip any thoughts of Eddie in the bud.

She turned to the sheets of paper on the study desk, her pencil twirling idly and drawing out a little flower-shaped spiral in the corner of the page. A character sheet, a chance to impress Hellfire tonight, and not appear like a silly, frivolous new girl with no clue what she was doing.

“Dustin,” Rose sighed. “I feel like i’m missing so much of Ceverra’s backstory. Yes, I was a noblewoman studying arcane magics at the Citadel, but what made me turn to necromancy?”

“Curiosity?”

“Maybe,” she hummed. “But the arc and the character have to be entwined, one feeds the other. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to raise the dead, you have to have a horrific reason...there has to be foreshadowing in her story. Maybe once we realise her backstory, we’ll work out why she’s here.”

“There’s an element of randomness to D&D play,” Dustin warned. “No one can predict the dice.”

“I still think she should have a good motivation. Something I can pull out when we get to the final villain in the campaign. A clue in her past, something hidden there all along that explains why she raises the dead.”

Dustin flipped through the pages of his Dungeon Master’s manual, one he explained belonged to his friend Will, who had just moved to California. He’d left behind his D&D books so they could play together when he came home for the holidays. The pages were weathered and dogeared, like they’d been used and loved for years. It brought a smile to Rose’s face; she too preferred her books that way. Lived in.

“Maybe we can find a magical reason, something happened to you as you studied to be a cleric,” Dustin rambled, concentrating on the pages.

“No,” Rose said. “It had to be a human reason, something tragic. I think...I think she lost her family. They were drained of life by a cult of warlocks or something, whilst she was away at the Citadel, and when she returned she found them all dead. She wasn’t there to protect her mother and father, and a sibling, a little sister maybe, so she turned to the dark arts. But it's doomed, because if she succeeds in raising her family, she will have become the thing they hate. In raising them, she kills herself, the Ceverra they loved. She turns to her old companions from the Citadel, including your bard and Jeff’s spellcaster, to aid her in finding an artefact she needs to raise her family. And gets drawn into whatever Eddie’s campaign is, before she can cross over that line and become a soulless lich. A last chance for redemption before she goes full chaotic-evil.”

“Shit,” Dustin snapped up. “That’s good. I think it works. Deeply personal motive, check. Dark magics, check. Reason for your joining the party, check. I think we have it, Lady Ceverra. We just need to determine how to spread your 27 ability points. You want three high abilities, three low. For a cleric, I recommend focusing on Wisdom and Intelligence. Plus, it kinda suits you!”

“I trust you, Dustin. Wisdom and Intelligence it is.”

He handed Rose the open book, and she searched the page, fingers tracing the scoring system; she made some notes and began to add some scores to her sheet. After ten minutes of diligent work, she handed him the character sheet; it felt like returning homework, except she suddenly cared for Dustin’s opinion more than any teacher, desperate for some kind of approval. She knew the kid was a genius, she knew he was Eddie’s protege, and somehow Robin knew him. All her favourite people seemed to regard Dustin highly. 

He leaned back in the chair, his Hellfire shirt barely visible under a brightly striped baseball-style short sleeved shirt, covered in some kind of novelty mathematical equation - probably a real one knowing Dustin - with a green Camp Nowhere badge newly sewn into the hem. It almost reminded Rose of Eddie’s battle vest, and she smiled like an idiot. Dustin idolised Eddie, she could see it in the way he deferred to the leader of their group, and copied some of his mannerisms subconsciously. 

“Okay, okay,” Dustin said positively, scanning the sheet. “The stats pass muster. I think this is gonna work. And the backstory kicks ass, like, you should be a writer.”

Rose felt herself smiling, and babbled dismissively. “Oh, I don’t know. I would like to study English Literature at university though. Maybe not cut out to be a full-blown author though...”

“That is so cool,” he said, head propped up on his elbow. “I’ve always been more of a math and science kind of man, but you’re a whole different kind of smart. Where do you wanna go to college?”

“I don’t know,” Rose faltered, making a strangled noise in her throat. She’d been so focused on achieving one single full year of school, one year with friends and normal teen experiences, that she’d put off thoughts of university. “I suppose i’d always imagined going back home, probably to London. Beyond that, i’ve not thought about it.”

“Well, you have plenty of time,” Dustin said comfortingly. “Probably two whole months, right? That’s if the application process is the same as here.”

Rose swallowed down her terror and turned back to the character sheet, where a large gap was left at the top. “Gareth is going to draw my character in art class today. He thinks the teacher won’t mind because he’s finished his assignment already. That way, it's ready for Hellfire tonight.”

Dustin looked at the sheet, with her neat, calligraphic script, his direction and shaping, and a space for Gareth’s impressive drawings. “You’re really going all out on this, huh. Eddie is going to lose his shit tonight, he’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” she said, trying to contain a gleeful grin. Since Monday’s beautiful, disastrous near-kiss, she hadn’t been fully alone with him. The closest was those two whole lunch hours at the Hellfire table, Eddie saving a seat next to him and pulling it out like a true gentleman, each of them sneaking dreamy-eyed glances at the other, careful not to be caught staring for too long. It was like a game of tag, a thrill of electricity each time they made eye contact.

White noise crackled in the quiet of the library, a muffled sound of something electronic, like white noise from a radio. Then out of the noise came a single word.

“Dustin?”

Rose went still, trying to locate the noise, but Dustin exploded into action,ducking under the table to get to his backpack, knocking over all his stuff in the process.

“ Is this thing even on? God, this is so stupid. Dustin, if you’re hearing this, it’s Steve. We have a code red. I repeat, a code red.”

“Shit,” Dustin hissed, fumbling about with his bag. He’d dropped to all fours on the beige floral carpet of the library, eyes sweeping the room for anyone watching: all clear, the place was quiet at the end of lunch, no one in their right mind would sacrifice their free period for more time around books. Except Rose and Dustin, clearly.

He retrieved a brick-sized hunk of plastic and metal from his bag, a walkie-talkie, pulling out a foot-long metal antenna from the top.

Dustin pressed down the walkie’s button, putting the mouthpiece close to his face. “This is Gold Leader. State your code red. And by the way, I told you, code names only . Also, you should bear in mind i’m in earshot of a civilian. Over.”

The combination of Dustin’s deadly serious demeanour, and his position on his knees by the library table clutching a walkie-talkie was so funny, she could almost laugh. But she really, really wanted to hear what he was saying, so leaned forward over the pencils and D&D handbooks, quiet as a mouse and straining to hear.

“Come on, not the code name. Seriously?”

“I’m deadly serious. And we spoke about this, you have to end with over . Over.”

The crackling went on for a couple of seconds, before a defeated voice came out again. “This is Farrah Fawcett, reporting a code red. There, you happy? Uh, over, or whatever.”

“I acknowledge your call sign, Farrah Fawcett. What is your code red? Does it involve any encrypted messages in other languages? Over.”

Encrypted messages? Rose was clueless, but already hooked. 

“No, Dus- I mean, Gold Leader. So Keith is busting my ass again. He says if I can’t work out which section of the video store to shelve This is Spinal Tap, i’m fired. He is so unreasonable! Over.”

Dustin growled. “We talked about this Farah Fawcett, this is not a code red. A code red is a life-threatening emergency. Or at least something that involves being so grounded that I won’t see daylight until i’m in college. Please keep this channel of communication open for genuine emergencies. Over and out.”

“Dustin, he’s gonna fire me! My dad is going to kick me out of the pool house, and then i’ll have to move in with my Aunt Josephine in Cincinnati. Is that code red enough for you, huh? No more rides to the arcade, no more free popcorn or videos, no more babysitting duties. Do you want me to suffer? Do you want Robin to suffer?”

Dustin made eye contact with Rose and shook his head, like he was forty, not fourteen, and the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Okay, message received. What was the name of the tape again?”

“Thank god. It’s called This is Spinal Tap, which is some British rock band, apparently. Cover’s got these guys with huge hair and guitars on it. I don’t know if I should put it in the documentary section, or the music section. He’s back in two minutes, so I need an answer, like, now. Over.”

“Oh shit,” Dustin said, his finger still pressed on the walkie. “My mom won’t let me see those kind of movies, Steve. But it's not like a music video, it's a documentary, right? Over.”

“You’re not filling me with confidence, Gold Leader. Should I go with Documentary?”

Rose scooted further over the table, into Dustin’s view. “Dustin, I know this one. I know it!”

“Wait, who is that?” The mysterious Farrah Fawcett - slash Steve - asked quickly.

“I’m with a girl, I mean a lady . Hold on a second Steve. Over,” Dustin looked up at Rose, eyes hopeful. He let go of the walkie and spoke privately to her for a second. “What should it be?”

“A lady? Hey, Robin doesn’t count you know. It’s Nancy isn’t it. Or maybe not, it’s Homecoming and she’s gonna be slammed with the committee today. Come on, Dustin, who is it? Is she pretty?”

Rose ignored the voice, thinking back to Monday. “It’s one of Eddie’s favourite movies. It’s a documentary, but a fake one. There’s no such band as Spinal Tap. Eddie said it was so funny he nearly pissed himself!”

“Huh,” Dustin replied, taking off his cap and mopping his brow. “He told you that? Jesus, that’s kind of personal. So it’s a comedy then?”

“Definitely,” Rose nodded wildly.

“Okay, but if you’re wrong, Steve and Robin are never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

She sat back, completely confused. Robin? What did Robin have to do with this?

Dustin turned back to the walkie. “I’ve conferred with my study buddy Lady Thorn, and can confirm the tape should be shelved in comedy. I repeat, comedy . Over.”

The static crackled. “Really? It doesn’t look funny. ”

“Just do it, Steve. I’ve gotta go, I think we’re attracting attention from hostile actors. This is Gold Leader, over and out.” He switched off the talkie, and sagged with relief, collapsing the antenna with a slap of his hand and stuffing it back in the backpack.

Rose sat back on the chair, mouth agape. “Hostile actors?”

“The librarian is giving me the side-eye,” Dustin explained, pointing subtly toward the desk, at the far end of the stacks. “I think she’s gonna kick us out.”

“Ms Miller likes me,” Rose assured him, returning to a whisper, just in case. “She’s obsessed with romantic English Literature, and I gave her my copy of an Elizabeth Gaskell book she’d never read before. She thought Mr Rochester was the pinnacle of a brooding gentleman? Oh ho, she’s yet to meet Mr Thornton. She’ll be swooning for days. No way she’ll kick us out.”

Dustin was bright-eyed as a puppy. “You really are a nerd, aren’t you.”

Rose snorted. “I thought that was clear already. Wait, you’re not getting away that easily. Who on earth was that? Is he your older brother?”

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice was so far it went into the stratosphere. He slapped his knee, laughing. “I'm so going to tell him you thought we were brothers. You know, we do both have fantastic hair. Maybe long lost cousins or something. No, Steve is a...friend, slash babysitter? It’s hard to capture with words. There’s nobody like him.”

“And you just go around with a walkie talkie, on the off chance you want to speak to this babysitter slash friend,” Rose said, suspicion creeping into her voice. 

“Sure. People do that, all the time. It’s really common in Indiana. Who needs a payphone when you’ve got a personal walkie? That’s free! Cause then you don’t need a whole stack of quarters,” Dustin shrugged his arms. “What? It’s practical!”

His voice went higher with each statement, until Rose knew he was covering something up. What an odd kid. 

“Right,” Rose narrowed her eyes. “If I didn’t have to get to class, I'd have a few more questions for you. But it's your lucky day.”

They got up from the study desk at the back of the library and slung on their bags, Rose carefully stowing away the character sheet between the pages of her math textbook as they swung open the library door, entering the hallway with its aura of enforced cheer, balloons and all sorts of glitter-laden signs announcing Homecoming! as if anyone in this school could forget it. Everyone congregated in the hallways, gossip and buzz in overdrive, like they could already taste the sugary-sweet tropical punch, feel the air thick with Aqua Net and cheap cologne, and  hear Indiana’s most middling DJ blaring out school-approved pop and light rock, a tepid beat that would fill the auditorium in just a few hours time.

They turned a corner and were met head on with a wobbling tower of boxes, shiny silver streamers spilling out the top.

”Excuse me, coming through,” a voice called out, muffled behind the decorations. 

“Hey Nance, hold on a minute,” Dustin leapt forward and took the top one, pulling it away and revealing a very frazzled Nancy Wheeler with bloodshot eyes and a don't-cross-me kind of glare.

Rose felt guilty for standing unencumbered whilst they carried heavy loads of decorations, so she followed them, running forward and opening the double doors to let them into the auditorium.

“Thank you guys,” Nancy said breathlessly, stacking them on a table and directing Dustin to do the same. “I would have collapsed in the hallway without you. Wait, Rose? I haven’t seen you since last Friday, I was going to check up on your first week but you’ve been a hard woman to find. I checked the cafeteria but you weren’t there.”

“That’s nice of you. I was a little busy today, Dustin was helping with a project in the library.”

Nancy’s face screwed up. “Dustin? Well he is a great tutor, he was always the best at math and science, better than Mike, but don’t tell him that.”

Dustin looked smug. “Mike’s known since the seventh grade, that secret is out. But it wasn’t math or science, it was something a little more fantastical , if you get my drift.”

Nancy looked between them, realisation coming to her at last. “Oh my god, did he rope you into Dungeons and Dragons? Just remember those sessions go on for hours . Sometimes the whole day. And I would get so tired my eyes would blur, and I couldn't even see the dice anymore.”

“Amateur,” Dustin said under his breath. “And it was not I that did the roping. It was Eddie.”

“Munson?” She asked, confused. “Isn’t he a little...aggressive?”

“Not at all,” Rose said immediately. “Not even a little bit.”

She could only picture Eddie smiling; slow, creeping smiles that turned up his lips and lit up his onyx eyes; wide, manic grins that cried out joy and enthusiasm; and those smiles that were infectious, laughing wholeheartedly at Dustin or Gareth’s antics. The way he held her hand in the woods, gripping it like she could possibly let him go. The way he cradled her cheek, like she was made of fragile glass. How in the nine hells of Asmodeus could Eddie Munson be called aggressive? Okay, if you were shallow you might see the hair and the jacket and the wild charisma, but when did clothes become more important than who was under them?

“Okay,” Nancy replied eventually, a thoughtful quirk to her head. “You guys can go now, thanks for the help. I’ve roped in Fred to help with the last of the decorations. He’s not on the homecoming committee, but he’s volunteered to help anyway.”

Rose and Dustin said goodbye and headed out the door; the kid waited until the door closed firmly behind them before leaning into Rose, making sure no one was in earshot before speaking low into her ear.

“Fred Benson is not helping out of charity. He’s totally in love with Nance,” Dustin dished the dirt. “He follows her around like a little puppy dog, it’s kinda sappy.”

“Which one is Fred?” She whispered back, wary of insulting any of the guys in the hallway.

“Glasses, blonde hair, has a scar on his face. He’s in the school paper with Nancy.”

“And Nancy doesn’t like him back?”

Dustin chuckled. “Seriously, if you want gossip you should hang around more girls...not including Robin. It’s complicated. Fred is in love with Nancy, but her boyfriend Jonathan - Will the Wise’s older brother - just moved to California so they’re long distance now. But Nancy’s ex Steve still has a torch for her.”

Rose gasped. “Walkie-talkie Steve?”

“Yeah!” He squealed gleefully. “They dated in Nancy’s sophomore and Junior year, but broke up because she fell for Jonathan. It was a whole thing.”

“Wow,” Rose tried to keep up. “So half the school’s in love with Nancy Wheeler. Noted.”

Dustin’s skin flushed. “I may have liked her for a little while, but that was just a silly kid thing. And it was B.S.” Dustin saw her confusion and made a wild little gesture. “ Before Suzie , of course. You’re right though, half the school is in love with Nancy. And the other half is in love with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy...Rose had biology and English with the cheerleader, whose forlorn aura and sweet smile made her stand out against the bolder, more brash girls who hung about in those cliques, circling about the basketball players. Her anxiety flared again, the sudden memory of Andy and some unnamed meathead insulting her on her first day, calling her kinda fat , in comparison to Nancy the broom handle . It was insulting to both of them, to women in general, and it brought out the self-doubt she’d tried so hard to bury. 

Don’t do it, Rose, don’t do it .

“So,” she said, pretending to be casual. “Which half are the Hellfire guys in?”

“Ew, gross,” Dustin said immediately. “Some of us are basically related to Nancy, or at least it feels like it now we’ve grown out of any middle school crushes.”

One thing Rose had determined over the last week, and was fairly certain of, was that Gareth, Jeff and Chris knew something was up between her and Eddie. Gareth’s smirk was too smug, his eyes too watchful when she sat next to Eddie in the cafeteria. Mike and Lucas she could see were observant too, but Dustin? Dustin seemed to have no idea. Or if he did, he was an incredible actor.

She fidgeted nervously with the end of her French braid - which was totally a coincidence, not that she could be more easily held or kissed or whatever by a certain metalhead covered in snaggy silver jewellery - feeling like a complete idiot. “And the older guys?”

“They don’t like Nancy, I know that. I’ve definitely seen them looking at the cheerleaders. Eddie and Gareth had this whole thing about who was hotter, Trisha Miller or Chrissy Cunningham. Gareth said Trisha because of, well,” he shot an embarrassed look at her, “She fills out the front of her uniform, if you know what I mean. That was his whole argument: boobs. But Eddie said Chrissy had the delicate aura of an elf princess, which is far more gentlemanly. He’s so freakin’ cool. Don’t tell him I said that. I don’t wanna sound like a pleb.”

Rose’s answering nod was weak. “Got it. Not a plebeian. Just a regular old equite, a knight of the Republic, maybe even a senator. I could see you as a tribune of the people. Or a philosopher.”

“Oh my God you are such a nerd, Hellfire is lucky to have you. You know, I think Eddie likes having a girl in hellfire. But not like a girl , if you get what i’m saying. Not like that,” he gave her a signature gap-toothed grin. “You’re just like one of the guys!”

---

The brief space between her last two classes found her scuffing her feet on the floor of the hall, trudging to her locker without the infectious enthusiasm for Hellfire that she had earlier.

She stowed her books and the character sheet for later. Gareth’s drawing of the lady necromancer and cleric adorned the top of the page, an elegant figure in light leather armour and a cape, wearing a bone charm around her neck. Perhaps he’d focused too much on the boobs, it was looking a little...voluptuous. And the armour wasn’t really functional, far more decorative. Just like those stupid uniforms, come to think of it. Damn cheerleaders, with their nonexistent little skirts and bouncy ponytails, and -

“Whatcha doing, McAllister?” Robin’s head was right behind her locker door, popping up like a poltergeist in a haunted house.

“Jesus,” Rose clutched her chest. “Announce yourself next time. You’ll be the death of me.”

Robin gave her a toothy grimace. “Sorry. Come to think of it, that’s not the first time someone’s said that to me.”

“I’m getting you a bell.”

“Are we talking like a necklace with a cute little charm, or a full-on cat’s collar here? Cause i’m not sure I can be contained, you know? I once got locked in a gas station bathroom and I broke out in hives. The mere thought of being stuck in an elevator makes me wanna puke. Oh god, what if the lights cut out while I'm in there...”

Rose clicked her fingers in front of her friend’s zoned-out face. “Wake up, Buckley. You’re not in an elevator, or a coffin, or a locker, or anything confined. You’re spiralling.”

“Hey! Claustrophobia is no joking matter,” Robin fired back. She watched Rose heft her books into her satchel and slammed the locker door emphatically. “What did the locker do to you?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Except for reminding me of my existential dread, social awkwardness, and the fact that i’ll die alone surrounded by a thousand cats.”

Robin’s nose scrunched up. “Do you even have a cat?”

The two of them fell in step, traversing the busy hallways to get to O’Donnell’s last period English class. 

“No, “ Rose said. “But I assume the cats will be attracted by my sad, spinster aura, and flock to the house in droves when I end up pathetic and alone. Maybe i’ll emit a strong catnip odour. It will just be me, a gigantic gothic murder mansion, and an army of cats. Come to think of it, I did see a mouse in the pantry last week chewing on a box of Ritz crackers. I screamed and smashed my favourite Bagpuss mug, and i’ll never find another one of those over here. Perhaps the cat army could come in handy.”

“See?” Robin casually slung her arm around Rose’s shoulder as they walked. “Look at you, thinking positively. But seriously though, why would you end up alone and miserable? You have your family. And me too, I'm your friend?”

Rose beamed. “Of course you are.”

“And the Hellfire guys.”

Her mouth twitched. “Hmm."

Robin stopped in her tracks, almost destabilising them, retracting her arm from Rose’s shoulder. “It’s those assholes, isn’t it. Have they said something weird or insulting? Done something utterly stupid?”

“It’s really nothing,” Rose said dismissively, folding her arms defensively.

Robin had none of it. Her blue eyes narrowed until they were dark and stormy. “I knew it. Something is going on. They’re teenage boys, they don’t have the self awareness to know how irredeemably, stupidly immature they sound. Whatever it is, i’ll knock some sense into them. But I should mention that i’m a pacifist at heart and I don’t even know how to throw a punch,” Robin pondered something, pointing her finger when an idea came to her. “I could ask Steve! Actually, he’s kind of a punchbag, i’m not sure he could survive another blow to the head. The man’s gonna end up with amnesia or something. So not Steve. Aha! I know a scathing, very intimidating middle schooler that we could rope in for Hellfire-defeating duties.”

“Robin, i’m not sending in a child to fight my battles,” Rose insisted. “Wait, its not even a battle! There is no battle, i’m just feeling..off.”

Robin groaned and looked at her long and hard. “Hey, are you busy this weekend?”

She shrugged. “Hellfire is tonight. We have to finish by six, or the Homecoming committee will turn us out of the drama room.”

“I don’t think many people have the right school spirit for Homecoming this year. I know Linda’s going, which makes me doubly glad i’m not. But what are you doing tomorrow?” Robin asked hopefully.

“I have three hundred years of American history to memorise before Ms Baldwin’s history assignment. But I can do that anytime.”

“Okay,” Robin grinned. “I have to work Saturday until six, but do you wanna watch a movie after? We can choose something the Hellfire guys will hate, something sophisticated, something...intellectual.”

A warm feeling spread in Rose’s chest, and she toyed with the strap of her bag, trying not to sound too desperate. “I would like that.”

Robin slapped her own forehead. “Agh, but my parents have this thing, this dinner party with my Dad’s old college friends. It’ll be three hours of smalltalk, devilled eggs, thousand island dip, and charades. And sherry, who drinks sherry? There’ll probably be reels of photographs from Mimsy’s trip to Nantucket. A fate worse than death.”

“We could...we could do it at my place?” Rose said, feeling emboldened by Robin’s willingness to suggest a weekend hangout, something beyond prescriptive school time. “My mum and Jerry will be there, but they are quiet, and I have the third floor all to myself. It would be like they weren’t even there. You could even sleep over, if you wanted to. I know the house is a bit...dilapidated. But there are only four windows still boarded up, the rest have all been replaced. And no more leaks!”

She felt stupid even asking; she was eighteen, not eight. Do young adults even do sleepovers?

“A movie night in a dilapidated murder mansion? Are you kidding? It’s so whimsical!” Robin was excited, hands gesticulating at a hundred miles an hour. “If you stop by Family Video before we close, we can have our pick of movies, courtesy of a very special employee-perk a.k.a what Keith doesn’t know, won’t kill him. Plus you can meet Steve.”

Rose cocked her head to one side, thinking through the mutual friend everybody seemed to have. “I don’t understand how everyone knows this Steve.”

Robin grew shifty, fidgeting and looking anywhere but Rose’s eyes. “Just, normal places. Work, school. You know, where everybody meets everybody. Oh, and if he hits on you, just let him down gently. He’s had a bad year in the romance department.”

“So Dustin tells me,” Rose said. She zoned out as Robin nattered about Steve’s failed dates and some kind of scoreboard, because she spotted Eddie’s unmistakeable figure coming down the hallway, toward Mrs O’Donnell’s classroom door. 

Where others walked, Eddie swaggered. He was all gangly limbs, swerving around the corner as came into the corridor, almost knocking over other students, brushing off their angry looks or jeers with a middle finger or a scary face. But today, he actually had a book. Hell, he had two books in his hand, tucked against his battle vest. Rose had gathered from their few shared classes and the brief, staggeringly honest exchange in the woods on Monday that Eddie was not exactly committed to academics. He tried, he showed up most of the time, but he was often fidgety, overwhelmed or completely buried in his own head rather than the lesson. Yet she knew he read fantasy extensively and designed complex D&D campaigns that required a serious degree of storytelling. 

Eddie hadn’t seen her yet. He hovered by the door, face falling as he looked inside. He’d paused on the threshold of the classroom like he might still make a run for it. She should wave, she should run up and say hello...maybe they could sit together. Who was she kidding, she was definitely sitting next to him if the seat was still free, just like on Monday.

But now, thanks to Dustin bloody Henderson, every bit of her recent burst of confidence was put into doubt. What if he was looking for a cheerleader? Did he search for Chrissy Cunningham in the crowd, with her gentle Elvish princess aura or whatever else Dustin had repeated to her? 

Rose looked down at herself, her Live Aid t-shirt, acid wash jeans, and Doc Martens, and felt incredibly underdressed. Well, at least she’d blend in with the Hellfire boys tonight; it might not be an official Hellfire shirt, but it had a similar vibe. It certainly felt more her than the awful pink high-collared cardigan she’d thrown over a dress last Friday on her first day, in a desperate attempt to cover her surgical scar.

She was miles deep in desperate thoughts about her own imperfections compared to the gaggle of cheerleaders that hovered nearby, all seeming to take her English class, when Eddie looked up. Their eyes met across the hall, a single sizzling, sparking second of contact that almost affected her as physically, as the near-kiss, even though they were twenty feet apart. 

Eddie’s brash, confident personal bled out of him until he was like jelly, leaning against the doorframe for support, eyes bright and hopeful. God, she’d missed that dopey smile. It was no more than 24 hours since they last spoke, but in a single week of acquaintance a day was a long time. Too long. She hugged her copy of Poe to her chest, not sure if she should wave. Is waving too much? Too boring? 

Rose’s arm twitched before her brain engaged; her imagination ran away with her and she did a weird little curtsey, actually dipping at the knee and nodding her head; to Eddie’s absolute, crazy-grinned delight. He did a full-on bow in response, bending at the waist, arm spreading wide.

Her view of Eddie’s theatrics were cut off as Robin stepped into her field of view dramatically, her freckled face only inches away.

“Oh, i’m sorry,” Robin’s voice was teasing, vibrating with restrained energy. “Am I interrupting something here?”

Rose snapped back to her friend. “What?”

“Don’t you give me that , it’s me that’s asking ‘what’...as in what the hell did I just witness?”

Nerves hit her in the stomach, like she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. Just as she opened her mouth and ready to babble some meaningless excuse or denial, the shrill bell rang out just above their heads, Rose flinching and clutching onto her books.

Rose drew as tall as she could - still several inches shorter than Robin - and tried to look dignified and imperious. “I have no idea what you are talking about. A girl can curtsey if she likes, nothing wrong with it. In fact-”

Robin’s gasp was loud and drawn out. “Oh my god. You like him.”

Heart racing, palm-sweating. Rose didn’t like that feeling, it reminded her too much of being ill, and damn did all this fancying him push her close to that heart-fluttering feeling. She walked toward O’Donnell’s room, where Eddie had gone inside with all the rest of the waiting seniors. “I like all the Hellfire guys,” she whispered to Robin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Robin looked like a ripe tomato, red, cheeks about to burst. She was about to say something when Rose ducked into the class, using Mrs O’Donnell and her class as a shield, knowing they couldn’t talk freely beneath her bespectacled, scathing gaze.

She let out a deeply held breath, relieved and nervous when she saw Eddie in his usual spot at the back, winking at her and nodding toward the empty seat by his side. 

She could feel Robin’s eyes upon her back as she fled to the back of the classroom and took the empty spot.

“Milady,” Eddie greeted, mischief in his eyes. “I had to fend off an army of orcs to keep the spot free, so you’d better take it.”

“Orcs?” Rose raised a brow.

He shrugged and pointed with his skull-ringed finger toward the front of the room. Gareth was sat between two of the mathletes from the terribly named science geek lunch table, brooding, arms crossed over his chest and shooting Eddie dirty looks. 

She grimaced. “Oh no. I don’t want to piss off Gareth. He might stab me in the back during the campaign later. And i’m not sure if I mean literally, or in the imaginary landscape of the Icewind Dale. I could move, if it will make him feel better.”

Eddie leaned over, and put his hand on her desk table. “Gareth the Great will survive. In fact, he might just concentrate more up there without me distracting him. I’m basically inflating his grade from a C minus to a B.”

“So generous of you,” Rose smiled, staring at his hand, just a finger’s width from hers. “So now it’s my turn to be distracted? Didn’t think about my grades, did you?”

When she turned to face the front, Robin was sitting four desks away,  neck craned comically, keeping an eye on their interaction. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice, his voice low as he replied. “What’s the worst I could do, drag you down from A plus plus to a measly A single plus? I get the feeling that you know more about this literary shit than Mrs O’Donnell ever has, and you’re just sitting amongst us mere mortals to pass the time.”

“We actually have a double plus at home, it’s called an A star, but...it’s silly really,” A shaky laugh came from Rose’s throat, one she silenced quickly when the teacher’s chair scraped against the floor and O’Donnell stood, surveying the students with a predatory gleam.

“You’re all looking forward to Homecoming tonight, aren’t you,” O’Donnell said gleefully. “Dreaming of corsages and slow dances. But before you scurry home and put on your fancy frocks and bow ties, you owe me something. Assignments.”

Andy the meathead slunk deeper into his chair, with a low, desperate groan.

“Yes, Andrew.” O’Donnell pointed at him. “I will be paying particular attention to your grade this semester. Come on now, everyone pass your assignments forward. Don’t forget, this will count as ten percent of your final grade.”

A whole room shuffled and produced stacks of papers from the inside of their books or their bags on the floor. Rose pulled out a ten page behemoth she had penned at home in the window seat of her attic room.

Eddie plucked out two creased pages from the inside of his jacket, and eyed hers with a nervous smile. “Jeez, did you write a novel or something? How long did that take you?”

Rose bit her bottom lip, feeling her face warm up. “Not that long. But the power cut on Wednesday night really helped, there was nothing to do but read by candlelight in my room.”

He nodded vigorously, passing their essays to the guy in front. “Cool, uh, cool image. Big creepy mansion, candlelight, rooms, bedrooms with...beds. Very gothic.”

“I suppose,” she said weakly. Better than admitting she had nothing else to do on a weeknight than delve into literary analysis in her bedroom, watched over by her wall of handsome musicians and actors pulled from the glossy pages of magazines.

“Wait,” Eddie burst out, head cocked to one side. “What power cut?”

“Thank you class,” O’Donnell interrupted them. “Barring Andrew, of course. If you can’t produce an essay by Monday you’ll be marked as a zero. Which somehow means, Mr Munson, that you handed in an essay on time. I think this has to be a first. I take it this one is yours?”

Mrs O’Donnell held aloft Eddie’s two-pager and she could see it was headed with an eye-catching drawing of a beating heart, anatomically correct...just like the one she’d sketched on his desk last week.

“That’s right, Mrs O,” Eddie said with a smug grin. “But be gentle with my heart, I don’t know if it can take another F.”

The teacher held it with two fingers, slightly away from her body like it might be covered in something unpleasant. “It’s certainly...something. I’m surprised you stopped staring at the cheerleaders long enough to read a single word of Edgar Allen Poe. Let’s hope you can keep it up.”

Oh shit. Rose wasn’t sure which hurt more, the entire class making disgusted noises and turning in their direction, or the sudden realisation that Chrissy Cunningham was three seats in front of Eddie, directly in his field of view. Chrissy was the only one that hadn’t turned around, like she was in her own world, picking at the beds of her reddened, bitten nails. Coincidence or not, it was enough to drain the confidence from her yet again.

“Fucking freak,” Jason Carver muttered under his breath. Rose didn’t miss that he looked between her and Eddie, seemingly just noticing the proximity of the freak to the new girl, his brain slowly ticking and putting together an association of some kind. Not that she cared for the opinion of a such a crowd-peddling narcissist, 

O’Donnell gathered the papers and swung right into the lesson, giving them three poems to read in silence whilst she marked the assignments at the desk, sipping from a mug of steaming black coffee. The woman looked up and snuck a glimpse at Eddie and her, and Rose just knew it. The woman had it out for him, big time.

Rose kept her head down, reading the page a dozen times and not taking in a single line of poetry. Sure, Eddie had flirted with her. Even she was clued up enough to recognise that. But was that because she was just there, literally walking into his domain last week in Hellfire? Was she a consolation prize? 

A grating, irritating noise sounded to her left. She snuck a glance past her makeshift shield a.k.a. notebook, and Eddie was downcast, pencil tapping incessantly on his book, completely wired and ignoring the book altogether. It was worrying, like he was disassociated from the classroom, not able to concentrate on the work, about to snap at any second.

Something clicked within her; he looked like she had felt, stuck in a bright, sterile hospital ward, tethered to bleeping monitors by wired electrodes stuck to her chest, worried sick every second that this was how she would die. That panic threatened her now, an urgent need to flee, her breathing coming hard. If this was how Eddie reacted to a classroom, no wonder his grades had suffered. No wonder he’d repeated senior year not once, but twice now. Rose was kind of in awe that someone would put themselves in that situation willingly, over and over again. She didn’t think she could.

Fuck O’Donnell, fuck the Jason Carvers and the Andys of the world, those that made Hawkins High a real hell for Eddie and those who were different. Rose made a silent vow to herself that she’d help Eddie get through this class, no matter what. Romantic weirdness aside, that smug bitch O’Donnell was not getting one over on them. Not on her watch.

An hour of silent reading later they were turned out of the classroom, collecting their assignments on the way out. Gareth had passed her something covertly and headed early to the drama room, to meet Chris and Jeff before the session began. And as Eddie hadn’t yet left his desk, Rose said a quick goodbye to a very perplexed Robin. Her friend was obviously about to explode with questions, but had to leave as the mysterious walkie-talkie Steve was giving her a ride to her Friday night shift at Family Video.

Eddie was last out of the class, face buried in his assignment. He saw her waiting, flipping over the page and pointing to a big, red D overlapping the sketch of the heart.

“It’s not much,” he said, squirming from her gaze. “But all I need is a D in Mrs O’Donnell’s, and then I should have enough credits to graduate. So it's better than an F.”

“That’s fantastic. Ten percent of the class, already locked down. Ninety to go,” she prattled nervously. “You felt compelled to actually read the story then? It’s as exciting as Tolkien.”

His confident grin returned slowly. “What can I say, I’ve developed a sudden interest in beating hearts and haunted houses. Both very metal. But what did you get, an A or an A plus? Oooh, don’t say a B, you couldn’t live with the shame.”

Rose stepped closer. “Oh, that assignment? Yes, it was an A plus, though she left a note complaining about the length and some of the source material being outside of the curriculum. But actually, i’ve been waiting to hand in my real assignment all day.”

He looked perplexed, brows furrowing, big doe-eyes looking around like he might find the answer in the corner of the room. “Uh...what?”

She produced a sheet of paper from behind her back, holding it up; her newly illustrated character sheet, Lady Ceverra beautifully drawn in monochrome by Gareth during his Art class, except for the red of her hair beneath a dark hooded cloak. It looked like something from a comic book, but less childish, more gothic. 

Eddie’s eyes widened until they almost popped from his head, scanning the drawing, surrounded by her calligraphic script with her character’s name, boxes full of stats, and alignment. “McAllister, what the hell? You did this since last Friday?”

His hand reached out to take the sheet but she pulled it back, planting a hand on his chest to keep his greedy hands away. “It’s a surprise. No reading it before the campaign, dungeon master. You’ll have to discover who Lady Ceverra is as we go through whatever you have planned for us tonight.”

She could feel the rumbling in his chest as he laughed. Somehow her hand had slipped past the layers of open denim and leather, resting over his Hellfire shirt, warm and solid chest right beneath her palm.

“Gimme,” he said, trying to snake his arms past her. “I see some seriously badass leather armour, and suspiciously low cut...did Gareth draw it for you?” He did a dramatic gasp. “Have you been meeting all the guys behind my back, McAllister?”

Rose’s lips twitched upwards. “Only Gareth. And Dustin; that’s why he was missing from lunch today.”

“That little shit. I thought he had the stomach flu. Give it, I wanna see!”

Rose twisted away, keeping the paper away from his grasping hands, surrounded by a curtain of his hair. “No, you’ll have to wait! Be patient!”

She broke away, dodging from him and stepping backward, running down the now-empty corridor with Eddie in pursuit, the place echoing with footsteps and their laughter. She felt like a kid again, being chased in the playground in a game of tag, without a care in the world. She rounded a corner and ducked into an alcove, letting Eddie run past. He kept going to the drama room, arms flailing, wobbling about like a goofball. He has such a stupid run that she couldn’t make it to the drama room door without a breathless cackle coming from her throat, alerting Eddie to her presence as he was about to burst through the door.

“What the hell?” He said, whipping around. “Your stealth must be off the charts.”

She raised the character sheet. “Try Wisdom and Intelligence.”

He bounded over to her like an over-eager puppy, chains clanking on his jeans, hair swishing manically around his face. “Oh please, Lady Ceverra. This humble bard only wishes to learn more about you.”

Her laughter slowed down, became more of a low hum in her throat, finding herself with her back pressed against a locker and Eddie bracing his arm just inches from her head, not caging her in completely but overwhelming her senses.

She held up the paper, obscuring the lower half of her face with it. “Is it proper for the Dungeon Master to read a character sheet before a session?”

Eddie’s eyes were wicked in the gloomy hall, with half the lights turned off already. “I don’t know about proper. More, uh...insatiable curiosity, I guess. I just can’t help it. Not when it comes to you, Rosie. Will you show me who you are?”

This was more than D&D, the seriousness of his tone was clear. And the way he was ignoring the sheet, looking right into her eyes. Her hand dropped and limbs had turned to warm jelly, surrounded by Eddie, still not getting enough , her fingers and lips tingling with the need to touch, to do something phys-

“Oh shit, you two disappear for a minute and you’re getting all pon farr on the lockers,” a very pissed off Jeff said, emerging from the drama room. “Hey, that’s my locker!”

“Goddamn it Jeff,” Eddie gave Rose an apologetic look and pulled away from the locker reluctantly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough with the sci-fi references. Not everyone watches Battlestar Galactica.”

Jeff looked like he might pass out. “Woah, woah, woah...that’s Star Trek, not Battlestar. How could you, man. I know you're more of a fantasy guy, but you’ve gotta respect the greatest TV show on the face of the planet.”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie sighed and shepherded Jeff into the Hellfire room and looked back nervously, gesturing to Rose to enter. “If the Lady Ceverra will forgive the foolish jester back there, could I still tempt her inside? The party of adventurers won’t be the same without her.”

Rose peeled herself from the lockers, her back aching from the cold metal. “You can’t put me off now, Dungeon Master. But one question. What’s a pon farr?”

Jeff’s muffled voice called out from within. “It’s a Vulcan mating rit-”

Eddie leapt inside, suddenly filled with panic. “Shut it. Silence Jeff, I swear to god i’ll tape your mouth up if you don’t stop right this minute.”

---

“Your quest has led you to here, every tavern rumour, bribe and threat to the wizards of the Citadel has proven right. The burial mound slopes gently in the wooded hollow, weathered by storm and wind and frost over eons of time, now smothered in vines and moss. The entire mound emits an aura of magic, intense magic. There are wards placed to keep out magic users like you. What’s inside, you ask? Oh, I don’t know, you’ll have to find out yourself by exploring the dark, dank tunnel crumbling into its side. Damp air, thick with mouldering earth, stale with decay, lingers at the tunnel mouth. Do you dare enter?”

When Eddie, reclining on his throne with goblet in hand like he was at a bacchanal, finished his monologue, the party looked at each other one by one. Gareth flexed his knuckles like he was faced with a physical fight, Dustin was nodding vigorously, and Lucas tightened the bandana around his forehead, like he was Rambo himself. 

“Do you even have to ask?” Chris said scathingly. “Each one of us has bled for this moment, dungeon master. I, Thordus Boulderbash, enter the tunnel with my axe-”

“Wait, we’re the Circle of Eight, remember?” Mike prompted him. “We’re playing as wizards for the beginning of the campaign.”

Rose leaned forward onto her elbows. “Wait, why is that? I spent so much time on Lady Ceverra, I was looking forward to playing her.”

Eddie raised his goblet, and threw his leg over one of the arms of his wooden throne. “Children, and milady , hold on. It’s all about trust, man. Let me guide you through this,” he turned to Rose, seated on his right hand side just like last week. “Sweetheart, I know you were excited about this. Just be patient. And in the meantime, you can make the wizard you’re playing now a cleric. You can still heal and eventually raise the dead.”

“Okay,” Rose sighed. “I trust you.”

Jeff muttered under his breath. “I’ve been scarred by Eddie too many times...I feel something big coming, something bigger than a demogorgon, man.”

Dustin nudged Lucas and whispered; Rose had no idea how all the younger boys acted when all three were together, so she just observed and assumed this was all normal.

“We climb into the tunnel,” Gareth picked up the narrative thread. “One by one, we get on our knees and crawl through the dirt, raising torches to light the way.”

Eddie rolled a dice behind his screen. He hissed and popped up, grimacing at them. “Sorry my little adventurers, that’s...a rockfall. You’re clambering through the tunnel and the roof collapses, causing ten damage to the last three people into the tunnel, sealing off your exit. Now, you’re trapped.”

Lucas moaned loudly. “Why did I have to go last? Last is usually safest. Wait - Rose, you’re a cleric, right? Can you do a healing spell? Keep up my HP?”

Rose’s brows raised, and she looked around the table. “Can I?”

Eddie nodded. “You can.”

Rose whistled with relief and threw a d20. 

“That’s a miss, sweetheart,” Eddie says gently. “You all proceed, damage remains.”

“I feel useless already,” she said.

“You’re level one, it’s kind of expected,” Dustin explained. “But look on the bright side! It only gets better from here. Sure, you’ll be slow, miss most of your attacks, and won’t be able to use your necromantic powers until you hit level ten, but you’ll get there.”

Rose tried to mask her disappointment. “Level ten?” 

Eddie placed down his goblet, sitting upright like a normal human for once. He waited, each second he purposefully paused drawing out the tension in the room. “Necromancer’s aren’t born, milady. They have no natural place in the order of things. The land of Greyhawke might be full of magic, but life and death, those are...immutable. And the power to raise something already dead back to life? That’s against nature. That’s something you earn with blood, sweat, tears and a mother fucking tonne of XP points. But when you get there, it’s...intoxicating, like a high,” he gave her a smile that travelled straight into her veins, pulsing warm and dizzy all around her body. “When the time comes, you’ll fucking love raising the dead.”

Rose cleared her throat and pressed together her legs, aware of a very distressing, very urgent pulsing in places other than her heart, hopeful that the other guys didn’t notice the flush to her skin. “So, um, why does it take a necromancer so long to build up to their attacks?”

It was Mike who answered, his gangly awkwardness long gone, confident in the game and as knowledgeable as Eddie. She remembered he was the younger boys’ Dungeon Master.

“Whether good or evil, a necromancer can’t just practice raising the dead straight away,” Mike gestured with his pencil to the board and the character sheets they all placed in front of them. “There’s not really a halfway to raising the dead, right? They will have to practice slowly sucking the life force out of people before they can make their first thrall - that’s the zombie they create, a thrall. So it might be like they’re sucking the energy out of someone for a long time, making them sick. Like...their eyes might start bleeding, organs sucked out their bodies.”

“I guess,” Lucas chimed in, with a grin. “But I think it's more psychic than physical. So they might feel sick and have headaches and shit, but they’ll look fine, until suddenly they’re not fine at all. The lich is hungry, and they need a snack before they have the energy to fully raise the dead. But once a necromancer has practiced enough? Once he or she has reached level ten? All bets are off. Their Raise Dead spell is like a nuclear bomb on the D&D board, a weapon more powerful than most other classes. They go from nought to sixty, killing and raising people as thralls left and right.”

Rose looked down at Lady Ceverra, at the drawing Gareth had finished this afternoon. The drama room spotlights and flickering pillar candles lit up a fighter in light armour, a cleric with healing skill, and one day, a necromancer. A thing of power, but with that power came the serious temptation of evil. Whether her character could resist all that temptation at level ten was to be seen. Raising creatures from the dead sounded fun, but she’d been dead herself, technically. Even if it was just a few minutes. Was she a thrall, bound to do others bidding? Or now she was alive again, was she truly herself?

The game went on for three hours, screaming, jeering, dice flying across the table. They encountered a horde of gargoyles in the burial chamber, losing Lucas to the creatures before the party could make it to the main chamber in the burial mound. Chris was slain at the burial chamber, inhaling poisonous spores, and their party became just five.

Eddie ducked behind his screen again and read through his meticulous notes, then he launched upward, standing on the throne, speaking down to them like a King to his subjects.

“You creep into the burial chamber. Runes on the wall are familiar, but older than any you’ve seen before, layered with a thousand years of dust. And all around a central sarcophagus are long given offerings of wine, incense, coin, and something even more sinister...corpses of animals, of people, pitchers of dried blood filling the air with the thick scent of copper and iron.”

“Oh man,” Gareth said shakily, hands buried in his hair. “I don’t like this.”

Eddie smiled, and continued. “A blast of air colder than ice, colder than death itself, ripples through the chamber. It sucks the very last breath from Dustin, killing him on the spot.”

“What?” Dustin threw his hat across the room. “What the hell, Eddie? I didn’t even get to roll?”

“Mike is next,” Eddie says, sinister, creeping toward the back of the boy’s chair. “Your lungs struggle, coughing and snapping something in your body, gargling on the sudden warmth of your own blood and choking to death.”

“Thanks,” Mike said, deadpan.

Eddie crept around the table clockwise, talking to each of his friends, and Rose got a vague idea of what was happening. 

“Jeff, you’re next. Death comes for you as swift as a knife in the dark. Then Gareth...ah, Gareth. Your power is obvious, your skill known throughout the land. But even you cannot face the forces of darkness and evil alone. You form a fireball with your hands just as the cold takes you, desperate for its warmth. Your body shrivels and hits the floor in an instant. But the light it casts illuminates the dark chamber for just a second...”

Eddie turned to her, his dark eyes wild, the candlelight flickering in their glassy depths.  “Lady Rose, the flare of light gives you just long enough to see a lumpy, grotesque shape emerge from the sarcophagus...a skeletal frame, grey-skinned, with white hair and broken teeth. He raises two gaunt hands toward you and snaps your neck with a single click of his fingers. And his last words? Hail, Vecna.”

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin flung his pencil on the table. “The wards weren’t there to keep wizards out, they were there to keep Vecna in!”

The guys made noises of shock and horror, Rose holding her breath, waiting for an explanation.

“Hold on, it can’t be Vecna,” Gareth said to the group. “The thing had two hands. We know Vecna’s left eye and left hand were sacrificed long ago, so this is just one of his followers, another necromancer. The fucking Cult of Vecna, dude. This campaign is going to break us, it’s going to kill us all.”

Rose was confused. She let them talk amongst themselves about the significance of the villains she’d never heard of before, but her eyes kept going back to her character.

“But we all just died!” She shouted, cutting over the masculine voices. “Isn’t that the end of the campaign?”

Eddie leaned toward her, palms planted on the wooden tabletop. “She’s right, you did just die, so let me finish. Rose, your wizard is dead, as are all of you. The Circle of Eight - which you were playing as - has perished in the tomb, releasing a powerful lich, a cultist of Vecna. But as each of you die, you wake in your mortal bodies. Rose, that means you’re now playing as Lady Ceverra, and everyone else as their own characters. Each one of you awakens with the same thought: Vecna will rise, and the Circle of Eight is slain, the last force strong enough to contain his evil already fallen. One thing each of you know is that you must find Mordenkainen, the Circle’s leader, the last hope for defeating Vecna and his cultists. The quest for Mordenkainen is next week, brave warriors. Get your characters ready, this is the start of my longest campaign yet, we’re talking months.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin cried out. “Vecna is going to be so tough.”

“I know,” Lucas shook his head. “Erica is going to be so jealous. She’ll pretend it's dorky, but she secretly thrives on shit like this.”

Rose felt so behind compared to the others, out of her depth when it came to the gameplay and technical knowledge. She smiled weakly and packed up her things with the others, blowing out candles and wafting away the smoke before the Homecoming committee barged in and accused them of smoking.

A hand appeared on her shoulder; Eddie, with his bashful smile, trying to stop her from tidying the room.

“Hey.”

She smiled back. “Hey.”

Wow. Thrilling exchange, McAllister. What next, how are you? Do you come here often?

Eddie crossed his arms over his Hellfire-emblazoned shirt. “So Vecna is basically the Witch-king of Angmar, once a king, kind of ascended to godhood but not really. So  maybe a cross between the Witch-king and Sauron?”

“Ah, my nemesis,” Rose laughed. “Because...because i’m Eowyn...from last week.”

Eddie blinked a couple of times. “No, I get it. Very appropriate. But Vecna’s a big deal, I hope you have fun. I mean, the whole point is to have fun whilst doing this. So if at any point you think it's boring or don’t wanna continue, please don't pretend and secretly grow to loathe and hate me for dragging you here. What I mean...I mean...”

Rose hushed him. “No one is forcing me to be here. I like it, your storytelling is amazing, and the guys are all fun.”

He seemed to like that, growing brighter as she spoke. “So you’re not going to Homecoming tonight then? No desire to put on a poofy dress and dance? You know, they’ll probably play some Duran Duran at some point. Your favourite.”

Eddie did a little tap dance across the drama room, with the guys in the background making groans of despair or laughing along as they saw him up to his usual antics. He looped around the table and came right back to Rose, bowing at the end.

“Is that how people dance at school events? Like their boots are on fire?”

“Nope, that’s the Hellfire special, dance like Satan’s watching you, and your feet are licked by the flames of hell itself.”

“Satan licks feet?” Rose feigned surprise, hand on her chest. “That’s a bit  kinky. I would expect no less from the dark lord himself.”

Eddie’s grin was a mile wide, and he bit his bottom lip rather sinfully. “You just wait until Halloween. The ritual sacrifice is so worth a whole year of red tape and consent forms.”

Chris made a disgusted noise in his throat as he walked by, putting on his own leather jacket and getting ready to leave.

Dustin, Mike and Lucas ran out, called by someone’s parents in the hall, probably Mike’s mom dropping Nancy off early for homecoming prep.

Eddie watched go fondly, and turned back to Rose. “Your Balrog isn’t here yet?”

“My mum? No, she’s relaxed her claws a little bit. She’s not very well, and my stepdad’s working late, so I get to take the bus. It’s quite exciting really, she’s been overprotective about it for years, like she thinks I need to be within ten feet of a trained paramedic or first aider for the rest of my life.”

Eddie’s frown lined his face deeply, mouth pursed and slightly open. “You’re getting the bus? But that doesn’t come for almost an hour.”

“I’ll wait. Maybe Nancy needs help with decorations or punch-bowl filling.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Nope. Nuh-huh. The carriage has plenty of room, i’ll give you a ride home if you don’t mind sitting next to Gareth for a while, his place isn’t too far.”

Rose toyed with her hands, fidgeting awkwardly. “Really? You’re sure?” 

“Deathly serious,” he replied. “No maiden roams the streets and takes the bus on my watch. Besides, we can continue your metal education, introduce you to a few new songs. I still have to build you up to Megadeath, remember?”

“Sounds...slightly terrifying. But thank you.”

He went a little shy, grabbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. “You never have to ask, alright? Just tell me when you need to get home after Hellfire...or school, or whatever. The van is at your service. And, uh, me too. At your service. Just, whenever.”

Rose could hardly stop smiling, a smile that persisted all the way through clearing the drama room, through Gareth calling shotgun as they walked through the parking lot, through Eddie insisting she get the seat closest to him, but only because Gareth’s house was first, so he’d need to be by the door.

The chariot smelled of cigarettes, weed, and stale fries. But Eddie opened the van door for her like a true gentleman, running to his own side and scooping up wrappers and all kinds of stuff that lived on the front seat, throwing it into the back frantically. She climbed in and buckled the seatbelt, examining the stack of tapes he’d shoved on the dash; Judas Priest, Dio, W.A.S.P, and Jimi Hendrix. 

Gareth crammed into the seat by the door, and Eddie took the wheel, engine roaring into life with an aggravated growl. 

“Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen,” Eddie threw the van into reverse, swinging his arm right behind Rose’s shoulders to look out the back. The van jerked backwards across the lot, swerving around a corner so quickly the thing felt like it would flip over, rubber screeching on the tarmac.

“Jesus,” Gareth hissed. “Lighten up on the gas, dickhead.”

“Drama queen,” Eddie said sheepishly.

Despite clinging onto the seat belt for dear life, Rose was more focused on the arm snaking dangerously close to her shoulders, feeling bereft when he withdrew it. “So what’s next on my metal journey?” Rose asked. “Do I get something heavy yet?”

Gareth replied before Eddie could open his mouth. “Don’t let this guy brainwash you with his Dio obsession. Ozzy Sabbath is the best Sabbath.”

“I have nothing against the Prince of Darkness!” Eddie’s voice rang out shrill in the small van cab. “Lady Evil and Heaven and Hell just happen to be great songs, that’s all.”

Gareth chuckled sarcastically. “Better than War Pigs? Better than Iron Man or Paranoid?” He scrambled around and found a tape, leaning over Rose and shoving it in the cassette player. “You know Sabbath wrote Paranoid in under an hour, just to fill up the album. One of the greatest metal songs of all time was just Ozzy’s filler . How can Dio compete with that?”

Gareth punched the play button and the opening riff blasted in her ears, her hands coming up to muffle them.

“Sorry,” Eddie reached over for the dial and turned it down, swerving just a little as they came out onto the main road. 

“It’s a miracle you still have any hearing left,” Rose commented. Her knee bounced to the rhythm of the song. “I like this. Weird that he’s blaming his girlfriend for his craziness, but I can overlook it.”

“See?” Gareth said smugly. “Ozzy Sabbath is the pinnacle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie murmured. “Lady Evil still kicks ass. Dio has the range, you can’t deny it.”

Rose laughed and just observed ad the guys argued back and forth in the ten minutes it took to get to Gareth’s house, a split level ranch in a neat, tidy neighbourhood, the very picture of suburbia with manicured lawns, little garden gnomes and flower beds, and practical sedans and station wagons parked on the roomy driveways.

“Don’t forget practice on Sunday,” Gareth called out as he leapt down from the van. “You still owe me those extra drumsticks.”

Eddie nodded. “I’m good for it. See you later, man.” 

The van door closed and Rose was acutely aware of their proximity, and the fact that they were alone again.

“So,” Eddie grinned. “The cassette player is all yours now, milady. What do you want to play?”

She hummed, making a show of thinking intently. “Give me something heavy. I can take it, I promise. What���s your favourite?”

Eddie sucked in his breath and whistled. “Oh, I don’t know. Not sure if you can handle it.”

Rose pivoted in her seat, belt straining across her chest. “Is that what you think, hmm? I’m not delicate, trust me. Favourite song, give it to me.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I...I, uh think I can do that. Maybe it's time to introduce you to Metallica. I mean, it’s only fair after I listened to about an hour of Duran Duran last weekend.”

“Hey,” she swatted his arm. “No one forced you to eavesdrop on my personal mix tape, Edgar Munson .”

“I knew you’d pull the Edgar card eventually,” he chuckled as they pulled out of Gareth’s drive, back on the road again. “I told you, restraint isn’t my strong suit, sweetheart. God, what do they all even do? Do they have instruments, or just stand around doing a little dance as they sing backing vocals for the main Simon Le Bond or whatever?”

“Simon Le Bon,” she corrected. “But stop trying to distract me, give me some Metallica.”

He grabbed a tape from the dash and tossed it over to her, an electric blue case, forked with lightning, with the band’s name in big letters. “Fast forward for a few seconds, press play exactly when I tell you. Keep going...now.”

Rose hit the button and a sonorous church bell rang out, followed by a heavy guitar riff, the sound filling the whole van. She let the music unfold, watching Eddie headbang and tap his ringed fingers on the steering wheel out the corner of her eye.

By the time the vocals kicked in she was nodding with him, bowled over by the incredible guitar work. It might be kind of a new genre to her, but there was something so atmospheric about it, unpretentious, out there...very Eddie. A drumline so strong it thrummed through her like a heartbeat.

Minutes later, the song faded slowly away, and Rose snuck another glance at him. 

“You like?” he asked, face vulnerable. “Don’t lie if it’s too much.”

Rose smiled. “I like. A lot.”

He let out a breath, sagging against the steering wheel. “That’s good.”

“So what’s next? More Metallica, or do I get to graduate to Megadeth?”

Eddie cocked his head in surprise. “As much as I wanna walk you through my whole collection, you know you’re home, right?”

She startled, looking out the window. They were parked on her vast driveway, sweeping up to the double-fronted house, the grey-blue faded paintwork of the gothic mansion fading into the gloomy dusk, bright lights in the first floor windows lighting the place from within like a great big jack-o-lantern. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She gripped her satchel hard, stilling her fidgeting fingers, leaning back against the lumpy van seat. “Maybe, do you want to...you could come in. I mean, if you wanted to.”

Eddie grabbed a handful of his hair and covered his mouth. “You want me to come in?”

Rose felt so utterly lame, so bumbling and terrible at talking to him, that she willed the ground to swallow her up whole. “Only if you want to.”

He leaned in, looking between her and the house. “I don’t think I should.”

Rose nodded vigorously, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door, clambering out as quickly as she could. “Of course, no big deal. It's Friday night, after all. That was stupid of me to assume you wouldn’t have any plans-”

Eddie’s door slammed as she backed away from the van, and before she knew it he was out on the path ahead of her, palms held up like she was skittish and about to run away - which she supposed, she was about to do. “No, no, no,” he said frantically. “I mean I literally can’t come in. I, uh, I really want to. Like really . But I promised someone I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to break that promise.”

“Ah,” she said slowly. Oh god. This was the part where he admitted to having a girlfriend, wasn’t it? Someone less bookish, someone metal , who wore leather and listened to Megadeth every day with her breakfast. Not Duran Duran. God , she probably had a Megadeth tattoo. Complete fucking opposite of Rose. What the hell, she was probably a cheerleader too. A rocker-cheerleader, with blood red lipstick and teased out Joan Jett hair, and nipple piercings. Yep, an anti-Rose. 

Eddie sighed, frustrated, crossing his arms and pivoting about, feet restless. “I can’t be that guy, going back on my word, you know? Everyone expects a Munson to be a fuckup, a criminal, a cheat. I don’t wanna be like that.”

Rose laughed, but instead of careless and breezy it came out deranged and shrill. “I get it, Eddie. Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She dodged around him and marched up the path, towards the imposing house. Don’t turn around, she told herself, tears stupidly prickling at the corner of her eyes. Don’t look back. She fumbled with her keys at the huge door, the one with newly fitted stained glass in the shape of  a rose, of all things. Mum insisted it had to be a rose, she thought it was a lovely coincidence.

“Fuck it. Bollocking fucking fuck,” she cursed, keys clinking as they dropped to the floor. She bent down as the door swung open, the light inside bathing the gloomy night, a pair of tartan slippers right in front of her nose, attached to corduroy trousers, with novelty socks peeking out.

“Whatcha doing there, kiddo?” Jerry’s chipper voice said loudly. “Got the old butterfingers, have you?”

“Something like that,” she said, all the energy draining from her.

A car door slammed in the distance, and an engine roared into life, chugging away and fading within a few long seconds, all with Rose still bent down on the porch.

Jerry shielded his eyes with his hand. “That’s a strange looking bus to me.”

He left. Of course he’d left. She groaned as she stood back up. “A friend gave me a ride home.”

Jerry nodded, standing aside so she could come inside. “You’ll have to ask your friend to come in next time, I know your Ma would love to meet them.”

Her laugh was shrill, just like earlier. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Jerry. I don't think he fancied coming in for a cup of tea.”

“Maybe next time, eh?”

She sighed heavily. “Maybe next time.”

The entrance foyer to the house was a mess. The facade of the fireplace was fancy as hell - and who the bloody hell has a fireplace in their foyer? - but the metal grate was missing and some tiles needed laying. The huge sweeping staircase was in need of a good sand and varnish and two spindles were missing. 

Rose had never minded living in a construction project, the dilapidated state of the house had given it a romantic air, but tonight she saw what others must see: decay. Her imagination was running wild, wondering where the murder had taken place. Hopefully not her room.

“There you are, love,” her Mum pottered into the hallway, a cup of tea in hand, her face drawn and tired, blonde Princess Di hairdo mussed up and tucked behind her ears. “How was your day at school?”

Rose kicked off her Doc Martens and stomped across the creaky floorboards. “Still alive, so there’s that at least.”

“Don’t,” Mum said, a hint of panic in her voice. “Don’t joke about that, Rosebud. My nerves won’t take it.”

She felt horrible, guilt eating away at her stomach. Rose’s little brush with death may have affected her far less than her mother, after all Rose went itn surgery and came back out feeling like shit, that was all. But Mum? She’d lived through being told her daughter was dead, and they’d begin resuscitation, with a slim chance of success. Yes, Rose knew the impact on her was far greater, despite the scar she lived with now.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” she gave her an impetuous hug, holding her tight. She’d lost weight, her bones felt fragile as a bird. “Shall we watch some telly that Jerry won’t understand? Monty Python, or Only Fools and Horses? I’ll make you a proper cup of tea, his always tastes a bit odd.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jerry’s voice floated from somewhere across the house.

Her mother beamed, grabbing onto her tight. “Really? I thought you’d be busy, maybe even go to that school dance that’s on tonight.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like a school disco, it’s all big poofy dresses and tuxedos. Plus, I think someone has to ask you.”

Mum settled in front of the TV, under a knitted blanket Rose had made when she was ten, misshapen and lumpy. “So. No nice boys at school then? No one you’d have liked to dance with?”

She snorted as she joined her mum on the couch, trying to imagine Eddie Munson in a bow tie, slow dancing to Bonnie Tyler or REO Speedwagon. “The less said about the boys at school the better.”

Her mum was no fool, her eyebrow twitched and she watched Rose with sudden interest. 

“Actually,” Rose reached for a diversion. “I have a favour to ask. Can my friend Robin come and stay tomorrow night? I may have promised her we’d watch a film.”

Mum’s face lit up. “Oh, that sounds lovely. Does Robin know about your heart?”

“No,” Rose moaned. “But i’ll add it to the interview process for my potential friends, shall I? Sense of humour, check. Good taste in music, check. Can recognise congenital heart failure and perform resuscitation, check.”

“No need to be sarcastic, dear. Invite her over, I’ll make sure Jerry is occupied in the garden or in the basement. Give you girls some peace, so you can gossip about musicians or boy bands or whatever girls your age talk about these days.”

“I think Robin wanted to watch something sophisticated, maybe something French. She speaks it too. Maybe a foreign film or a documentary.”

“God,” her mum sighed. “When I was your age...well, we didn’t spend much time watching documentaries, if you catch my drift. Ah, the sixties. Just before I met your father I had a fling with a very dashing pipe welder from Sheffield. My goodness, he had muscles in places I didn’t know could be muscled.”

Rose buried herself behind a stuffed pillow, muffling her cries of horror. “ Stop, please , before I vomit on the sofa.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. Do you want some booze tomorrow? I’ve got some Peach Schnapps and some Tia Maria in the pantry, on the top shelf.”

The pillow moved just slightly, until she could speak. “Yes please, Mum. If you’re going to talk about muscled pipe welders, i’ll need to be drunk.”

---

Rose slept fitfully that night, hovering on that surreal place between the waking world and the sleeping one. In her dreams she was floating aimlessly, on a river in the dark. At first it was peaceful but the current dragged her under. Through the muffle silence she could hear a melody, a beautiful tune hovering on the edge of her consciousness, like she’d left on her walkman and it was bleeding into her dreams.

She woke for the briefest of seconds, the delicate keys of a piano still thrumming through the air, an echo of the dream music in the quiet, creaking house. Her breath came short and she flung her arm out, grappling with the pull-switch on her lamp. Light flooded the room again, but there was nothing, no figure in the corner, no monster lurking in the shadows. Just the old piano by the window, untouched, and silent, the black and white keys illuminated by the lamp and the sliver of moonlight from her window.

She sagged back down on her bed. On the edge of her consciousness a thought crossed her mind; she would have sworn the lid over the keys was shut...wasn’t it? But sleep came for her like a thick, warm blanket, and any thoughts of haunting music and piano keys were forgotten.

[pumpkinsy0]

favorite angela hcs?

a good chunk of these r my own hcs, i am my own dickrider angeka ive ignored u for way too long,,, im sorry,,,

•she still has a bit of her haitian accent when she speaks english, and she knows ppl r intrigued by it so she uses that to her advantage to get what she wants

•her and curly r twins, curlys 15 minutes older and she hates it however sometimes she does act like the older one and ppl mistake her for actually being the older one

•shes close to sylvia, sees her as an older sister

•when angela woke up and saw her hair was cut off, it took hours of begging and pleading from curly and tim to get her out her room (or bathroom)

•speaking of her hair coming off, i think she had to face her own small bit of anti blackness and get over that

•its hard for her to make girl friends (and guy friends too but thats a different thing on its own)

•she has the fucking appetite of a 6 year old😭😭

•she actually is pretty terrifying, ppl just dont wanna admit that bc shes a girl

•right after curly she has the most freckles, its mostly on her nose however

•her mom is her first hater lmao

•her room is her safe place in the house, shes almost always in there

•out of everyone else, shes the one most into vodou

•her grades r actually pretty good and could b better if she applied herself more but she doesnt care that much

•she has undiagnosed autism and bipolar disorder (personally id say it only seems like she has bpd bc of some other personal issues she got, but yea i could see bpd as well)

•the way she curses ppl out is so funny i think bc shes so specific and eloquent w it

•she gets home sick a lot and wants to go back to haiti bc she thinks things were way simpler there, so she collects post cards from haiti

i prolly have more but i forgor my memory is asscheeks and im rusty on my angela hcs</33

[crystallizedshowers]

Heteroclite

~Sally Face OC Story~

My feet pattered across the ground as I ran through the forest heading home to mom. I was playing outside in the forest and the setting sun had made me aware of the amount of time I was away. I hoped my mother wouldn't be mad when I arrived home. I turned past a tree and ran through the tree clearing, finally arriving back home. My mother was waiting outside, face full of worry. "Where have you been child? You had me worried sick." I opened my mouth to speak and an unfamiliar voice spoke out, "I'm sorry momma. I was lost and it was so dark and-" Mom cut me off before I could finish stammering out my words, "Hush now, my sweet angel. Everything is okay. Here. I want you to have this." She pulled out a golden necklace from her pocket and present it to me, a cross charm dangling in the wind. It was a familiar necklace. "Grandma's necklace?" Mother smiled back at me, "It will protect you from the wickedness in this world, so you don't have to be afraid any more." "What about father?" I asked back. She put her fingers to her lips, "He doesn't have to know. This will be our little secret." She wrapped the necklace around my neck before securing it in place and grabbed my hand leading me inside for dinner.

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My hands splashed in the soapy water in the bath tub. Mom had ran me a bath and told me she'd come get me when it was time to get out. It had been a while at this point, but I figured maybe she had gotten caught up with a show or reading a book. It didn't matter to me, I had more time to play in the bath after all. The bathroom door creaked open, and I suspected it to be mom finally returning. It wasn't mom though. It was dad. His eyes glowing red, and wore a menacing expression across his face. His right hand bared a knife covered in blood and I looked up at him mouth trembling in fear. "Daddy?"

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A loud gasp escaped my mouth and I threw my body upright gasping for air. One hand clenched tightly, tangled in Larry's shirt and the other grabbing my chest to soothe my racing heartbeat. "What the fuck was that?" Larry yelled. I shook my head rapidly still trying to grasp being back in my own body again. "You touched the necklace and then Megan disappeared and when we looked back you were passed out." Sal stated in loud whisper. "I just fucking died again." I breathed out. "What does that even mean Kat? You look pretty alive to me." Larry spat. I turned and looked at him, releasing my hold on his shirt. "I saw Megan's death." I explained the event of her death to the boys and a trickle of blood fell from my nose.

"Here." Todd handed me a tissue was his pocket and I pressed it to my leaking nose. "The eyes of the father was glowing red. I wondered if he encountered that red eyed shadow or something?" I asked myself out loud.  The boys froze in place and I stared at them. "What?" They explained their history with the red eyed demon and how they blasted it with one of Todd's many gadgets. "Okay this has been fun and all. Glad to know I'm not the only weird one but I'm going home." I stood up heading to the front door of the apartment and I was grabbed yet again but this time by Sal. "Why don't you just stay here? That way you're not at home by yourself?" I stared at the blue haired boy dumbfounded, "Dude. I just witnessed the life of a dead girl and you're telling me this freaky shadow creature was possessing the husband of Stacy Holmes, who might I add murdered his wife and child, and was haunting these apartments. And you want me to stay in this godforsaken apartments? You're out of your damn mind." "Look Kat I promise the apartments aren't as bad as it seems. Just a little rough around the edges." Sal spoke up again. I leaned in close his face, "Sal multiple murders happening under one building isn't 'rough around the edges' it's downright insanity. Honestly how is this place even still upright?"

"Aren't you curious about your special connection to the afterlife Kat?" Todd asked. I sat in silence for a moment before speaking up again, "Yes I'm curious but I doubt my answer will come from this place." Larry spoke up next, "Like we said, Todd's thingy took care of that thing a while back. We haven't seen the red eyed demon since." "Ever since we blasted the demon away the ghosts might've become more active since then, but we assure they're harmless." Sal stated. The room was silent for a long time while I thought over my options. Pleading looks coming from Sal and Larry as they silently begged me to stay. "Alright I'll take your word for it and hang around a while longer, but no more ghost encounters please." I said rubbing my fingers on the bridge of my nose.

The four of exited the room and got back in the elevators, Todd getting off on floor 2. "I'm gonna research up the psychic abilities and I'll let you know what I find." Todd flashed me a smile before heading down the hallway. "Gee thanks" I muttered. "How's the bleeding going?" Larry asked peering down at me. I pulled the tissue away from my nose waiting to see if I felt any more blood coming out. "I don't feel anything. Do you see any more blood?" I asked Larry. He grabbed my face and tilted it back to have a better look at my nose, due to his height. "Nah looks like it quit bleeding." He responded letting go of my chin. I pocketed the bloody tissue and the three of us arrived to the basement level.

We entered the apartment, me and Sal trailing behind Larry. Larry's mother sat at the stove cooking dinner. "Hey mom, I wanna introduce you to Kat." She looked up from whatever concoction she was mixing in her pot. Her eyes squinted as her lips curled up into a smile, "Hi Kat! I'm Lisa. Nice to meet you." She wiped her hands off on a hand towel before extending it out to shake. I grabbed her hand and shook it, "Nice to meet you Lisa." She turned to give the pot another stir before she spoke up again, "Are you Larry's girlfriend?" Me and the two boys choked at the question and Larry yelled out, "Mom! No she's not my girlfriend." I waved my hands in front of myself and spoke, "I don't think I know Larry enough to date him. He's really nice, but we're just friends!" Lisa raised her eyebrow up and smiled, "Oh so my little Lar-bear might have a chance in the future?" I snorted at the nickname earning a loud protest coming from Larry's mouth. "I'm just teasing kids." Lisa grinned. "Kat, Sal are you two staying for dinner?" Sal nodded his head explaining his dad was working late again and Lisa turned to me raising her eyebrow. "Oh I'd have to call my mom to see if that's okay. Do you have a phone I can borrow?" I asked. Lisa nodded and pointed in the direction of the land line and I walked to it to call mom.

I dialed the hospital number and a lady answered the phone, "Front desk, How can I help you?" "I need to speak to Cynthia Gordon-Williamson. This is her daughter, Kat." I spoke back into the phone. I was put on a brief hold before my mother's voice came through the other end, "Hi Kitty! Back from the park already?" "No. I ended up going to a friend's house who lives in the Addison Apartment. I was wondering if I could stay here and eat dinner with them?" There was a small pause on the other end before mom asked to speak with Lisa. I covered the handset with my hand before calling out to Lisa who was chatting with the boys. "Hey Lisa, mom wants to talk to you." Lisa wiped her hands on the hand cloth again before coming and taking the phone out of my hand. Her and my mother exchanged a few words before Lisa snapped her fingers at Larry, getting his attention. "Can you grab me a piece of paper and something to write with?" Larry nodded, entering his room and coming out with both items and handed them to Lisa. Lisa started writing stuff down and repeated the hospital number back into the phone for confirmation. "Don't worry Cynthia! Trust me I'll be more than happy to have her! Have a good day!" Lisa smiled into the phone before hanging up.

"Your mom asked if it would be okay for you to hang around here after school and I told her that would be fine. Anytime you want to come over you're more than welcome to come!" Lisa smiled at me. "Okay you three go keep yourselves busy and I'll let you know when dinner's ready!" The three us went into Larry's room, Larry reclining in his bean bag on the floor and me and Sal taking a seat on the couch. The boys began chatting about various things, me joining in every so often. Larry was excited to show me this band called 'Sanity's Fall' that he's been obsessed with and played their album on his stereo system, head banging to the beat. Sal joined in on the head banging and motioned for me to follow suit. I stood up and began head banging with the two boys, laughing at the stupidity of the three of us violently head banging to the incoherent screaming coming from Larry's stereo.

Head banging was fun, but doing it for too long makes me incredibly dizzy and lightheaded. I tried to grab the wall for support, but ended up losing my balance and falling to the floor laughing on my way down. The two boys stopped head banging and Larry turned the stereo down. "Kat are you alright!" Sal asked rushing to my side. I waved him off still giggling on the floor, "Yeah I'm alright. Just got dizzy." "Oh your hairpin fell loose." Sal pulled the hair pin out of my hair and pushed my bangs back before securing the pin in my hair. I smiled, "Thanks Sal." Sal offered me a hand to stand and I took it, him pulling me back to my feet. "How are the two of you not dizzy with all that head banging?" I asked, stumbling a little bit before grabbing ahold of the arm of the couch. Larry shrugged, "Been doing it for a while so I guess we're just used to it." I sat back on the couch, resting my head on my propped up arm, "Well you two have at it. I'm gonna take a breather!" The two boys nodded and both went back to head banging to the songs. I watched them adjusting my self on the couch so my arm rested on the arm rest, eyes slowly drifting close at my more noticeable tiredness.

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

"Hey dude I think she fell asleep." Larry said to Sal noticing the purple haired girl slumped over on the couch. Her eyes closed, hair still messy due to head banging, and head resting on her forearm deep in sleep. The boys didn't understand how the girl fell asleep in the chaos that was taking place in Larry's room, but decided it would best not to disturb her. Larry turned the volume down on the stereo and sat back down in his bean bag chair, Sal sitting on the floor across from him. "That shit from earlier was crazy Sal. Like she just touched Megan's necklace and passed out. Shit nearly gave me heart attack." Larry spoke in soft whisper, glancing at Kat's sleeping form. Sal quietly nodded his head, "Yeah that whole situation was scary. I wonder if she's some sort of psychic?" "I thought psychics were people who saw into the future and shit. Not the past." Larry mumbled.   A knock at the door startled the two boys and Lisa popped her head in, "Hey kids! Dinner's ready." The two boys shushed Lisa and pointed at Kat on the sofa.

Everyone turned their attention to the couch, Kat sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Oh you woke up." Sal muttered. Kat stretched her arms above her head and let out a yawn, "Yeah I woke up to the sound of the door opening." Lisa frowned, "Aw Kat I didn't mean to wake you. I was just letting the boys know that dinner was ready." Kat waved Lisa off before getting up off the couch, "Nah don't worry about it. I just needed a little nap." "Heh a Kat nap." Larry snickered, earning a slight laugh from her and Sal cringing at the pun. "Alright kids let's go eat." Lisa stated, the three kids following her to the kitchen table.

Lisa had prepared a lovely soup for dinner and everyone complimented it's delectable flavors. "Now boys I want you two to walk Kat back home after dinner." The sun had long set, so night settled in with crickets peacefully chirping in the distance. The two boys nodded their heads before setting their dishes in the sink alongside Kat. Kat waved goodbye to Lisa before following the two boys up the elevator and through the lobby. The walk back to Kat's was a peaceful one, everyone talking about random things that peaked their interest. "I'll see you two tomorrow!" Kat smiled unlatching the gate around the property. She stepped foot through the fence before turning around to face the boys, face frowning in thought. "I um," she murmured, gathering their attention again. "I had fun today guys. The first time in a long time... so um, thanks." She finished, adverting her gaze. Sal smiled under his mask, "No problem Kat. We had fun today as well." "Yeah, Kitty! Today was so much fun." Larry grinned earning an annoyed look from Kat. "Have a goodnight Sal and Lar-bear." Kat cooed before turning to walk down the pathway to her house. Larry yelled at her fleeting form, "Don't call me that!" Kat let out a small giggle before entering the house, locking the door behind her. Sal laughed at Larry's embarrassment before dragging the boy back to their apartments.

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

I shut the door to the house before locking it behind me. The cool morning air causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up and head throb more than it already was. I turned to walk down the steps and was greeted by the three boys awaiting me at the gate, "Good morning Kat!" I muttered a quiet good morning to Sal before we made our walk back to Addison apartments. Larry peered down at me, "You feeling okay Kitty?" I nodded my head, "Yeah. Just didn't get much sleep last night, and my heads been pounding all morning." I looked up to Larry, "And please don't call me that in school or I'm gonna make sure to refer to as Lar-bear all day." He rubbed the back of his head, cheeks red in embarrassment, before calling a truce. "Did you have anymore out of body experiences again?" Todd asked. I shook my head, "No it was like an actual nightmare this time. My heads fuzzy just thinking about it, but I woke up at 2am freaking out and couldn't go back to sleep."

"You find anything about what's might be going on with me?" Todd shook his head, "I found some stuff, but I'd like to do a little more research on it." I nodded my head. We arrived back at Addison apartments, the bus arriving shortly after and the four of us piling on.

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

My head rested against the cold lunchroom table, hood pulled over my aching head. Although I'd taken some medicine this morning which slightly helped my pounding headache, it was worn off by this point. "Kat are you sure you're alright?" Ashley asked. I gave her a thumbs up not moving my head up from the table. "I've already asked like 4 times to take her to the nurse, but she's stubborn as hell." Larry stated sitting to my left. After getting on this bus this morning, Larry slid in beside me instead of his usual spot with Sal. The three of us were confused at his actions, but let it be. I had doze off during the ride and had to be woken up by Larry, who asked if I wanted him to take me to the nurse, which I declined.

As we gathered to sit at lunch, Larry chose the vacant spot next to me and everyone started chatting. Due to my sleepless night and raging headache I forgot to pack my lunch this morning, so I had nothing to eat. I didn't think I'd be able to eat anything anyways since my head was pulsating. "Piss off Travis. We're not in the mood for your shit." Larry growled. I raised my head and looked behind me to see Travis standing directly behind me, a scowl across his lips. I don't know what that dude was planning, but it pissed him off that Larry had caught onto it. Travis scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Like I wanted anything to do with you flamers anyways." Travis walked back to his table and sat down, occasionally glancing at our table. "Wow it's like having my own personal guard dog." I muttered, smiling at Larry. "Dude, it's because you don't do anything. You just let him do whatever and then go about your merry way." Larry groaned. "Larry, just leave it be." Ash said causing another groan from Larry.

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

"Kat, wake up." My eyes blinked at the aggressive shaking and I looked up to see Larry staring down at me from the bus aisle. "Come on Kat we're at the apartments." I nodded my head and grabbed my bag from the seat before following Larry off the bus. I walked down the cement pathway leading to the apartments. "Yo why you heading to the apartments and not home?" Larry asked. I stopped to turn and look at the guys, "Because you'd drag me back here anyways." I continued towards the building, slight chuckling coming behind me. We piled into the building, heading for the dreaded elevator. The clinking of the mail slot startled me and a voice called out to us. "Well good evening young sirs. Oh and you brought a guest! Nice to meet you!" I glanced back at the boys, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Hi Mr. Addison! This is Kat, she's a friend of ours." Sal spoke up to the man behind the door. I gave a small wave to the guy, not really in the mood for chatting.

As the boys and Mr. Addison chatted, I stared at the eyes that sat just behind the mail slot. A sense of uneasiness forming in the pit of my stomach. This man had an unsettling vibe about him, and I couldn't put my finger on it. His eyes glanced over and met my eyes, squinting ever so slightly as if a smile formed across his undetected lips. An oh so familiar sensation fell from my nose and I cursed under my breath tearing my eyes away from the door. "Shit Kat you're bleeding again." Larry rushed to my side, grabbing a tissue from Todd, and pressing it to my nose. "Geez I didn't notice." I muttered in sarcasm, grabbing the tissue from him. The boys muttered a goodbye to the man behind the door, Larry grabbing my arm and leading us to the elevator. "You need to sit down. You're clearly sick." Larry muttered. I glanced over my shoulder to see the mail slot still open and Mr Addison's gaze piercing into my soul sending a shiver up my back.

My head throb and I winced in pain, Larry placed his hand against my forehead, sucking in a breath at my temperature. "Kat, you're burning up!" The elevator doors opened and the four of us piled inside. "You know I did find something online about how you can sometimes feel sick after having an out of body experience." Todd stated, glancing at me. "That would've been nice to know earlier." I grimaced, gripping the handles in the elevator. "You really don't like elevators do you?" Sal asked, staring at my death grip. I shook my head, "I get motion sickness. Granted it's not as bad as it used to be, but being stuck in a moving contraption makes my skin crawl." "How the hell do you ride in cars then?" Larry asked. "Mom used to have to medicate me before we would drive, but like I said it's gotten better as I've gotten older. Now it's more or less the lack of trust in these death traps." I muttered, pulling the tissue from my nose and pressing it back down, feeling my nose still gushing blood.

The elevator doors opened and Todd got off waving us a farewell, "I promise I'll get back to you on any discoveries I make Kat." I did my best to muster up a smile, but I'm pretty sure it was a straight line. In all honesty, I was sick of the constant headaches and bloody noses. I needed Mr. Smarty-pants to hurry up and give me some answers to all this craziness that was happening to me. The doors closed and the three of us rode to the basement. My head was aching so bad at this point, the side of my vision turning white and ears ringing. It felt as if I was about to have a brain aneurysm. The doors opened and I stepped forward, ready to get out of this block of metal, feet staggering. My vision became a blur and I felt myself stumbling forward, Sal grabbed me by the shoulders, catching me. "Kat, are you alright?" His voice was muffled, it took me a few minutes to understand his words. I nodded my head letting out a breathless reply, "Never better."

The boys helped me to the apartment before placing me on the living-room couch. Forearms propped up against my knees, still holding the, now saturated, tissue to my nose. Sal quickly entered the bathroom before returning to my side with a roll of toilet paper. I muttered a quick, "thank you" tearing off some of the toilet paper and pressing it to my nose. "It won't stop." I groaned, head tilted down at ground. Larry grabbed my chin before abruptly lifting my head up towards the ceiling, the taste of iron running down my throat. I gagged at the taste, Larry forcefully holding my head in place. "Of course it's not going to stop and you keep your head facing down. What are you, an idiot?" I shot a glare at Larry, Sal yelling out at Larry's rather blunt remark, "Larry!" Sal shoved my head back down to the ground, "Dude she's gonna choke!" The two began to lightly bicker at the right way to handle a nose bleed, shoving my head every direction. I slapped both of their hands away before standing up and heading for the bathroom, stumbling along the way.

I shut the bathroom door and leaned my head over the sink letting the blood drip into the porcelain bowl. I turned the water on, running my hand under the water to check its temperature and began cupping the water in my hand, and rinsing my face off, watching the water turn various shades of red and down the drain. Thankfully after a while the bleeding stopped, and I dried my face off with the hand towel. Unfortunately my head was still in shambles and the room was spinning. I opened the bathroom door and was greeted with the two boys standing outside the door, faces full of worry. "What the hell are you two doing? Eavesdropping?" Sal rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, "We just wanted to make sure you didn't fall or pass out." I nodded my head, the room around me still spinning and rested myself in the doorway.

The two lead me back to the couch and Larry put his hand to my forehead again, "Yeah dude, you totally have a fever." He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a thermometer, "Here open your mouth and put this under your tongue." "I know how a thermometer works Larry." I mumbled as he placed the device under my tongue. The device beeped after a few seconds and read '101.6°' Larry cussing under his breath in response. "Sally face stay here with her for a minute. I'm gonna go get mom." Sal nodded his head and the brunette left the apartment.

After a while, Larry returned with Lisa in tow, both immediately rushing to my side. Lisa felt my face, frowning at my temperature. She excused herself, grabbing a note off the refrigerator and picking up the landline pressing in a number. She spoke into the phone for a while before bringing the handset to me and handing it to me. "Hello?" I mumbled. Mom's voice rang from the other end, "Kitty! Lisa told me that you're not feeling good! What's going on?" "I'm fine mom. Just have a headache." "She told me that you're running a fever! Do you need me to come home?" I frowned, "No mom. You've only been at that place for like a week now. I'll be fine. I'm just going to go home and go to bed." "Oh no no no Kitty! You do not need to be home by yourself when you're sick!" Mom lectured, voice raising in pitch. "It's just a typical migraine mom. I'll be alright." I mumbled. "Will you put Lisa back on the phone?" I sighed and handed Lisa back the phone and watched them continue their conversation. I ran my hand through my head, frustrated at this entire situation. I don't tell my mom when I'm sick due to the simple fact she always worries.

Lisa muttered a few more words before hanging up the phone and coming back to the couch. "Your mom asked me if I was fine with you staying here until she got off work in the morning." Lisa spoke. My eyes widened in surprise and I glanced up at her. "I told her that it was fine with me, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. She did tell me that if you decided to go home to call her back and let her know, so she could head home early." I groaned at my two options. "I really don't want to intrude, but I really don't want her leaving early to take care of me." "Dude, it's fine we don't mind." Larry spoke, shoving his hands in his pockets. I scoffed, "Easy for you to say! This is your house!" "He's right Kat! You can stay here and rest on the couch. Your mom says she'd be here by 3:30 to get you." Lisa smiled. I buried my head in my hands, sighing loudly. I appreciated their kindness, I really did, but the feeling of being a burden weighed down heavy on my shoulders.

A soft hand on my shoulder made me look up to find Lisa squatted down in front of me. "Kat I assure you that you're not a burden. I meant what I said yesterday! You're always welcome to hang around here!" Tears pricked the corner of my eyes. My heart aching at her kindness, and jealousy rising in the pit of my stomach that Larry had such a loving mother to care for him. I nodded my head and muttered, "Fine I'll stay here." Lisa patted my thigh before getting up, "Alright sounds good. I'm gonna go find some pain medicine and something for you to sleep in!" Her figure retreating into her bedroom. "I should've warned you that mom's really nice. Honestly too nice." Larry grinned. I leaned back on the sofa nodding my head in agreement, "Yeah it would've been nice to know that beforehand."

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

"Mom we get it! You can go back to work now!" Larry groaned at his mother's repeated instructions. Lisa smiled at the two boys in Larry's room before bidding farewell and leaving the apartment. After taking medicine and changing into some of Lisa's old clothes, Kat passed on the couch almost immediately. Lisa had told the boys not to bother the sleeping girl at all and to periodically check up on her. Lisa only had a few maintenance things to finish up on before she'd be set to come home for the night.

The boys sat in Larry's room talking over various things, stereo system playing but turned down as not to disturb Kat. "Do you really think she got sick from that encounter with Megan yesterday?" Sal asked. Larry shrugged his shoulders, " I dunno dude. This whole situation is weird." "I wish we had some answers to all of this." Larry nodded his head in agreement. "Should we go check on her?" Sal asked, standing up. Larry nodded and the two boys went in to the living-room, hovering over Kat's sleeping figure. Larry nudged Sal, "Dude is she breathing?" He whispered. Sal leaned in closer to get a better look in the dark. Kat's blue eyes piercing into Sal's, an annoyed expression across her face. Sal jumped back, yelling in surprise which caused Larry to yell as well. Kat sat up, grabbing her head in pain, "Will you two shut up?"

The two boys stopped mid yell staring at Kat, "You should've told us you were awake! You almost gave us a heart attack!" Larry whispered. Kat rolled her eyes, "I told you guys yesterday I wake up to the sound of the door opening." "What the hell were you two doing? Staring at me while I was sleeping. Creepy." She huffed, swinging her legs off the couch. "We just came to check on you!" Sal stammered. Kat stood up making her way to the bathroom, stopping to ruffle Sal's hair on the way. "Thanks for checking on me guys but I promise you I'm fine!" She entered the bathroom shutting the door behind her. After a while Kat exited the bathroom door before plopping back down on the couch, shorts riding up slightly. Larry flipped the overhead light on, causing the three to squint trying to adjust to the change in vision. "Geez Larry what are you doing?" Kat groaned. Larry grabbed the thermometer from the side table and held it up to Kat's mouth. Reluctantly, Kat opened her mouth and waited to hear the beep, Larry pulling the thermometer out of her mouth checking the reading. '99.1°' Larry sighed, "Well at least your fever is going down." He placed his palm on her forehead, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "You feel a lot better though."

While Larry was checking Kat's temperature, he found himself aimlessly looking around before he noticed some discoloration on Kat's leg. A long scar that started further up her leg and ended just above her knee adorned her leg. Smaller scars dancing around the much larger one. Kat, noticing the unwanted attention, pulled her shorts down trying her best to cover it. This however was noticed by Larry who had front row seats to gawk at it. "Geez Kat what the hell happened to your leg?" Sal mentally facepalmed at Larry's direct question, remembering his straightforwardness when first encountering him. "Larry!" Sal hissed. "What?" The brunette asked, confused. "I really don't want to talk about it." Kat muttered, adverting her eyes from two and pulling down further on her shorts. Larry's eyes widened and he stammered out an apology, "Shit Kat! I'm sorry! Change of subject, how are you feeling?" Kat smiled at him, "It's fine. I know it's a pretty gnarly scar." "That shit is kick ass!" Larry stated, earning a laugh from Kat. "Thanks Lar-bear." Kat cooed causing Larry to groan. "And I feel a lot better. I'm still tired as hell though." She yawned.

"Try to get some more sleep Kitty." Kat recoiled at the used of her nickname, before nodding her head and lying back down. The two boys made their way back to Larry's room and Larry flipping the switch, the living-room becoming dark yet again. "Goodnight Kat." Sal whispered. Kat muttered a quick goodnight back before drifting back off into a peaceful slumber.

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - pt 4

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, implied depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, some mention of being sick, clubbing, swearing, mentions of roofies but nothing graphic happens (there are no rape elements in any part of this chapter. If you skip that part, you won't miss anything too important I promise and understand if you do.), one mention of gagging at the smell of food but the m/c is hung over so. ⌦ Word count: 2.26k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: Wonwoo's part is kind of filler tbh,, If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines

⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

⌦ (Reader's pov) Months went by before you felt well enough to go out with your friends again, and Wonwoo's words kept echoing in your mind whenever you would get a text from them inviting you out. Tonight, you decided that wallowing in your own self-pity wasn't going to make anything better; there was only one thing that would make everything go back to the way it was previously, and you weren't ready to face the music just yet.

"Can I borrow this dress?" Your friend Chelsea asked, holding up a black sequin dress that sparkled when the light hit it. Your parents would always say something along the lines of it hardly being a dress every time you wore it to a family function. Not that you went to those much anymore.

You looked up from your spot on the floor, moving the mascara wand from your face so you didn't mess up your makeup. You had a bathroom with nice lighting, but nothing is better than sitting on the floor in your bedroom in front of a floor-length mirror. Your makeup always looks better when you do it that way.

"I was gonna wear that, but I guess you can wear it," you said before turning your attention back to the mirror and finishing your makeup.

"Thank you! I promise I'll give it back!" she exclaimed as she bounced off into your bathroom with the dress. You rolled your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh, because you knew you would never see that dress again. Spritzing your face with setting spray, you then began to do your hair, curling the strands into loose waves.

You looked at yourself in the mirror once you found a new dress. It wasn't nearly as flattering as the black sequin one you loaned to your friend, but you still looked damn good in it. You wondered if any of your friends were picking up on your less than enthusiastic demeanor; after all, you were frowning in the mirror.

Yejun stepped behind you, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked at you through the mirror.

"You okay?" She asked. She was the only friend you had in this group of girls that you actually considered a good friend. Even though she would abandon you along with the other girls when you went a little too hard, she would always call you the day after and make sure you made it home safely.

"Not really, but I can't stay upset forever." You shrugged, the lump in your throat that hadn't gone away since Wonwoo cut you out of his life making a return. You reached up to squeeze one of her hands reassuringly, saying, "And besides, is it ever a party without me?" You joked lightly.

The Uber ride to the club was quiet; it was a thick feeling, and you could tell your friends were talking about you in another group chat. You knew good and well about this group chat, but how could you confront them without any evidence? Yejun would probably deny having told you anyway; as good of a person as she was, she was still a snake at times.

The club was loud, with music pumping from every corner, girls drunkenly singing along to some club remix of a Rihanna song, and the smell of sweat filling your senses. You made a beeline to the bar, ordering a few drinks to soothe the lump that hadn't left your throat since it returned.

It didn't take long until you were joining your friends on the dance floor, drink in hand, as you moved with no rhythm to a song you didn't know. You felt a figure press itself against your back, grinding up into you, causing you to jump just a bit.

Looking behind you, you saw a man who looked pretty good based on what the strobe lights would illuminate. His grip on his hand loosened when your head snapped back at him, and only when you turned to face him to continue dancing did his hands grip against your waist again.

Feeling the music, you wrapped your arms around his neck, effectively grinding up against each other so much that you were afraid your dress would ride up. It was a while before you took a drink from the clear cup of fruity liquid that was in your hand. The thirty minutes after you'd taken the last few sips of your drink seemed to be fine, until the feeling of being uneasy hit you like a ton of bricks.

The fear of throwing up on this poor man was more important than your head spinning and your vision blurring as you stumbled to the bathroom. You could hear footsteps behind you, but you couldn't tell whose footsteps they were until that same hand gripped your wrist with the same force it had used to hold onto your waist.

"Where are you going, princess? The fun's just starting," he whispered in your ear. He pulled you close to his body as yours began to go limp. You were too weak and too out of it to fight back; you were sure tonight would end in a way you hadn't planned for.

"Get away from her, you pig!" You heard someone say it, followed by the sounds of something being sprayed and the man screaming. The music was too loud for anyone to have noticed, and the only thing you could be certain of was that the cold feeling of the marble floor you'd slumped onto felt nice against your sweaty skin.

Just as you began to find comfort in the cold temperature of the marble floor beneath you and the darkness that began clouding the edges of your vision, you were hoisted up once more. With the little bit of strength you had left, you looked up to see Yejun carrying you to what you had assumed was the bathroom.

She was saying something to you, but your senses were too far gone for you to know what she was saying. By the time you two had made it to the bathroom, you were hardly holding yourself up, and your eyes felt like a thousand weighted blankets. You could feel yourself being propped against the wall and hear the sound of the sink starting. You tried your best to keep yourself aware of your surroundings—anything to prolong the darkness that threatened to envelope you at any second.

You could feel water on your face and a cup being pressed to your lips. You had the foresight to reject the liquid until it hit your tongue, and you could tell it was water.

⌦(Readers pov) You weren't sure how you got home that night, but you were thankful when you woke up in your own bed and not in some random alleyway. You looked around, expecting to still see the mess from the night before, but instead you were met with a clean room, closed curtains, a glass of water, and two painkillers on your nightstand.

There was a knock on your bedroom door as you sat up, taking the glass from the bedside table along with the medicine. You half expected to see your best friend on the other side of the door when it opened, but what you saw shocked you. Yejun was outside the door.

"You're up." She smiled softly, walking into your room with a bowl of what looked like ramen. The smell made your stomach turn, and you had to stop yourself from gagging before you were able to take the medicine.

"Yea, how…how long was I out?" You asked; your phone was on the nightstand, but it hadn't been put on the charger when you were put to bed. Yejun sat the bowl of food on your dresser as she made her way to the edge of your bed, sitting across from you.

"Awhile, it's almost 4," she said. It was silent in the room for a moment; you weren't sure what to say. "Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Not really, why?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"Someone drugged you, but I got to you before anything happened. I tried to get ahold of your friend, the one that always takes you home after parties, but I couldn't get ahold of him." She said she was playing with the cracking nail polish on her fingers.

You looked down at the cup of water in your hands, a small smile creeping its way to your face. It was not a smile of happiness; quite the opposite, actually; it was one of disbelief.

"I'm not surprised; he said he didn't want to be around me anymore if I continued to…" you trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Use him?" Yejun said.

"Yeah, essentially," you said. Your finger traced the rim of the glass as you thought. "I think I should get some help,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yea, I was drugged last night, and I always get way too fucked up for you guys to have fun; I'm bound to get severely hurt one day," you said.

"That's really brave of you; I'll support your decision no matter what." Yejun said, resting her hand on your shin.

"That means I need to cut the girls out of my life," you said, and Yejun retracted her hand. You looked up at her, reaching over to grab her hand. "Not you; if it weren't for you finding me, I don't know what would have happened."

⌦(Wonwoo's pov) Wonwoo couldn't stop himself from looking at the ten missed calls he had from you from the night before; not being there to save you was taking a toll on him. He was worried something had happened, and he almost called you back until his phone displayed Hannah's face on his screen. Wonwoo and Hannah were going pretty steady, having been together for about 3 months at this point.

Wonwoo let out a sigh to expel any of the bad feelings he had been feeling before he answered the phone. He smiled as soon as Hannah's face popped up on his screen.

"Hey, Honey Bee- whats wrong?" Hannah said, noticing how his smile looked forced and his shoulders were more slouched than normal.

"Nothing, nothing; I'm just tired," he said, moving his free hand around as if to swat away any of the worry Hannah had.

"Are you sure? You look upset," she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," he replied, leaning back against the couch as he spoke.

"It's about that girl, isn't it?" She asked. Despite feeling some way about you, she didn't like seeing her boyfriend upset. Wonwoo only nodded, averting his gaze from the phone screen.

"Yeah… I have 10 missed calls from her," he said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was silent for a moment, which only made Wonwoo feel worse about bringing up another girl to his girlfriend.

"Do you think she's okay?" She asked. Though her questions were sincere, her voice gave away her irritation. It was clear that Hannah would never be comfortable with the relationship you two once shared, and understandably so.

"I hope so,"

"Do you want to meet up for dinner? I think we have some things to talk about," she said. Now it was her turn to look away from the camera.

"Why don't you just come here? I can make you dinner," Wonwoo suggested.

"Sounds good; I'll be there soon," she said before she hung up.

It didn't take long for Hannah to show up at Wonwoo's doorstep; the air between them was thick, and Wonwoo wasn't exactly sure why. He had a feeling that whatever Hannah needed to speak about, it was going to be bad, or else she wouldn't have asked to speak in person.

Wonwoo made a simple dinner: sundubu jjigae with kimchi. The two sat in silence as they both ate at the dinner table. Each time Hannah would pause her movements, Wonwoo would look up from his food as if to ask her if she was okay.

"Wanna talk about it?" Wonwoo finally asked, setting his spoon down next to his bowl and looking up at his girlfriend.

"I was gonna wait till we finished eating…" Hannah trailed off, following Wonwoo's motions as she placed her spoon down and looked up at him. "I've been thinking a lot about us; you're a great guy, Wonwoo, truly. Any girl would be lucky to have you, but…"

"But?" Wonwoo's heart didn't drop like he had expected it to; if he were being honest, it felt as though his relationship with Hannah was close to an end. He didn't expect this relationship to last.

"But I can't help but feel hurt when I notice that you're always checked out whenever we're together. You're always worrying about someone, and that someone isn't me. I don't want you to feel like I'm upset with you or hate you, but it's pretty obvious that we're lying to ourselves if we think this relationship is going to last," Hannah continued.

"I understand; I haven't been the best boyfriend. You deserve so much better, Hannah," Wonwoo said.

"You're not upset?"

"Well, I'm not exactly happy, but I can't change your mind, and you deserve someone better," Wonwoo said, looking at the wall behind Hannah.

The two finished their meal in silence before Hannah left. Wonwoo sighed as he washed the dishes. He had some crappy luck with relationships, it seemed.

[dahliawolfe]

Opal

Teen wolf AU

The door shut with a soft click behind her. She sighed as she made her way up the stairs, getting to work on the buttons of her bells. She threw the door open, not sparing a glance at Scott, before shucking her pants and turning to remove her shirt.

“Shirt me,” she demanded, reaching a hand out.

Scott rolled his eyes and placed one of his well worn t-shirts in his best friend’s hand. “Rough day?” he asked, looking down at his phone, steadfastly trying to ignore the fact that the most beautiful girl in the world, his best friend, was nearly naked in his room.

“That British History was hellish,” Opal sighed, flopping down on the bed with Scott. “I know we need to get you ready for your bio final, but I say, you let me sleep, and then we get pancakes and cram before we drop you off. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s ok. You want some food?”

“I want sleep, Scotty.” Opal tucked her face into the neck of her best friend and flung an arm over his waist.

…

Scott woke up alone, which was just as well, because he was hard as a rock after having Opal pressed against him all night. He had just stuck his hand down his pants when the front door flew open. Yanking his hand back like he’d been burned, he snatched the covers over himself. The smell of Opal wafted up the stairs. Soon enough, she was opening his door, greeting him with a smile. She was in a pair of workout shorts and a bra, and her naturally honey gold skin was slicked with sweat. Her long copper hair was pulled into a braid that hung down her back.

“Hey, Scotty!” she greeted. “I went to get a workout and run in. Give me 5 to shower, and we can head out. Stiles was filling up the Jeep when I ran past, so he should be here soon. Oh, shit,” she hissed. “I don’t have any more shirts. Can I borrow one?” Opal had been keeping a pile of clothes at his house since they were 15. She didn’t have the best home life, and Melissa had a soft spot for the girl.

“Uhh, I’m actually low on laundry, myself,” Scott stated, sitting up.

“Ugh, Scotty, Mel doesn’t live here anymore, so you need to learn to do your own.” Melissa was living with John Stilinski, and they were getting married in the fall. Scott kept the house. Melissa insisted. At 23; Scott, Opal, and Stiles were going into their last year of college at Beacon Hills Community College; and they’d go their own ways soon. And Scott was not ok with that, but he was trying not to think about it. “Ohh, can I wear this?!” she held up his old lacrosse jersey. And Scott nearly growled at the thought of her wearing his name.

“Umm, sure. Yeah, that’s cool.”

“You’re the best! Be right back!” Opal flounced out of his room and to the bathroom next door. Scott only breathed out a sigh when he heard the shower click on.

…

“You’re gonna kick that final’s ass, Scotty!” Opal declared an hour later as they finished up their pancake and test review session.

“Yeah, man. You got this,” Stiles added, not looking up from his phone.

“Dude, she offered to let you go with her,” Opal sighed, rolling her eyes.

“I can’t go to Italy! My dad…”

“Has my mom,” Scott supplied.

“But..But…”

“Stiles, I know that you’re worried about Lydia, but she can take care of herself. And you guys are going to NYU together next year, so a little break will be nice for both of you.”

Stiles sighed and rubbed his temples. “Lydia is going to Oxford.”

“What?!”

He nodded. “She got a late acceptance. So, I’ve decided to just go to UCLA, so I can stay home.”

“Oh, Stiles,” Opal sighed sadly, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “Well, hey, you’ve still got us. Let’s kick this summer’s ass! How about a trip to the beach?! We could drive down after Scotty’s exam, be there by night fall, and we could get a room for the night and head home tomorrow morning.”

Scott smiled. “That sounds sick, actually.”

“I don’t…” Stiles began, but Opal held her hand up, cutting him off.

“You’re going.”

…

Scott walked out into the early summer heat and sighed. He was sure he did alright on the exam, but he had struggled. He turned his phone back on to find a text from Opal telling him that she was at the Sheriff’s Department with Stiles and she was waiting for him. He smiled and began to walk.

∞

Opal was perched on the spare desk at the back of the bullpen, arguing with Stiles about which Ghostbusters movie was best, when she heard his voice.

“Opal?” Her head snapped up, midsentence and her eyes made contact with the granite colored eyes of Derek Hale.

“Derek?!” she threw herself off of the desk into his arms, and he didn’t so much as grunt when he caught her.

Derek was hugging her and chuckling quietly under his breath. “It’s good to see you too,” he joked, placing her on her feet.

That was when she noticed for the first time that he was wearing a deputy’s uniform. She raised a brow at him.

“I got tired of the big city, and John offered me a job here.  So, here I am.”

∞

Derek studied Opal. She was definitely not the kid she was when he left Beacon Hills 5 years ago. She had … filled out. She was curvy with defined muscles, thick thighs, wide hips, and an ample chest. And that smile. That smile was still the same. Her fiery hair had been bobbed when Derek left for San Francisco, but it was now nearly down to her hips. Damn, she was beautiful.

“So, you’re staying?!” she exclaimed. Derek laughed again.

“Yup. What are you guys doing for the summer?”

“Oh, well, Stiles is going to be shadowing a journalist at The Beacon. Scotty is going to be working with Deaton. And I am working at the Museum of Local History. For now, I’m a tour guide, but the owner said that if the summer goes well, he might make me the head of research and acquisitions when I graduate!”

Her excitement was contagious. “That’s amazing! I’m sure you’ll impress them.” Derek had mellowed out a lot since the days of chaos in Beacon Hills. And being back here made him feel like he was finally at home.

∞

Scott had worked up a sweat, but the blast of AC that hit him when he opened the front door of the Sheriff’s Department, was a welcomed shock. He paused, his hackles rising, as he smelled another wolf near. That’s when he looked up. Just in time for Opal to exclaim, “Scotty, look, it’s Derek!”