#quietly adding notes to my google docs

[enha-stars]

oh i’m having major sunghoon thoughts rn 🫠🫠

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 11 - 'She's Something' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

The early morning light filtered through the blinds in soft streaks, casting a warm glow over the room. The house was silent, the kind of stillness that only exists just before the world begins to wake. You stirred awake, blinking against the gentle light, and for a moment, you simply watched Trent sleep. His features were relaxed, his breathing steady, his arm lazily draped across the bed where you had been moments before. The sight made your chest ache, but in the sweetest way. He was perfect. Slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, you padded to the kitchen, the cool tiles beneath your feet making you shiver slightly. The space was dimly lit, the morning sun not quite reaching it yet. You moved with purpose but also with care, opening drawers and cabinets softly, grabbing what you needed to make breakfast. The sound of eggs cracking broke the silence, followed by the gentle hiss of butter melting in the pan. You whisked the eggs, your movements rhythmic and calming, the act of cooking grounding you in the moment. The scent of fresh coffee brewing mingled with the faint, lingering traces of Trent’s cologne still on your skin, making you smile. You set the table quietly, plates arranged just so, and folded a napkin absentmindedly. As you reached for the coffee pot, pouring it into two mugs, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn, warm arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

“Wow,” Trent murmured, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. “I thought I’d get a cuddle this morning, but this…” He rested his chin lightly on your shoulder. “This might be better.” You tilted your head back to look at him, his eyes still half-lidded but shining with warmth. 

“I was hungry,” you teased, laughing softly as his hands tightened slightly around your waist. “Last night was genuinely a work out.” You giggled. 

“Yeah?” he said, his voice soft but laced with amusement. He leaned in, pressing his lips lightly to your temple, his warmth chasing away the slight chill from the morning air. “You look so good in the morning, you know that?”

“I look the same,” you replied, a small laugh escaping as you turned back to the pan, flipping the eggs.

“Nah,” he countered, his voice dropping lower as his fingers brushed lightly against the curve of your hip. “You don’t. You’re just… soft. Sexy but softer,” he added, his tone earnest and just a little teasing. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. 

“You’re just saying that because I made breakfast and you’re  trying to make sure some’s for you,” you said, though your voice lacked any real conviction. He hummed in response, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck. 

“No,” he whispered, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I mean it.” For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped in his arms, the warmth of the stove in front of you blending with the heat radiating from him. “But some is for me though, right?” He asked cheekily and you hummed in response just the same as he did before you both fell into a comfortable silence. The quiet intimacy of the moment felt like a gift, something that needed no words or grand gestures to make it feel special. As you moved to plate the eggs, Trent turned you gently, guiding you to face him. 

“Leave it,” he said softly, taking the spatula from your hand and placing it on the counter. “Breakfast can wait a minute. C’mere, baby.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that made the room seem even quieter, the world beyond it fading entirely. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed lightly over your cheek as if he couldn’t help but touch you.

“You really think I look good in the morning?” you asked shyly, your voice barely above a whisper. He smiled, his gaze locked on yours, full of something deeper than just affection. 

“I think you look perfect,” he said simply, his sincerity wrapping around you like a second set of arms. And as the morning light poured in, soft and golden, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was what happiness felt like—quiet, warm, and impossibly sweet. 

The morning sunlight continued to spill softly through the windows as Trent sat at the kitchen table, quietly devouring the breakfast you’d made. You stood nearby, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve of his shirt you had on, feeling a little shy as you tried to muster up the courage to ask him something. It felt strange—awkward, even—to invite him into something so meaningless yet so personal to you. But after the night you’d shared and the ease that had returned between you, it felt like the right thing to do.

“Hey baby…” You paused. “Would you maybe… Like…“ You took another deep breath in an attempt to try to sound more sure of yourself. “Do you want to go for a drive with me?” You finally asked, your voice hesitant. Trent paused mid-bite, looking up at you with a slight tilt of his head, encouraging you to keep going. “You’re off, and I usually like to go to Formby.” You stumbled over the words, feeling ridiculous as they tumbled out of your mouth. Trent set his fork down, his warm gaze settling on you. 

“Yeah? What do you do there?” he asked, curious and gentle, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. You felt your cheeks warm as you struggled to explain. 

“I don’t know… I just go. It’s grounding. It helps me reset, I guess,” you admitted, unsure if he’d understand. But he didn’t push for more.

“I’ll go regardless, pretty girl,” he said with a playful smirk, “just was curious.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, his easy going nature putting you at ease. Slowly, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder. He was warm, solid, and smelled faintly of the cologne he’d sprayed on after his shower. Trent leaned back into your embrace, his hand resting on your arm as he finished chewing. “You’re good,” he murmured reassuring you, his voice soft. “Okay, if I finish breaky first?” You hummed in agreement, the sound of his voice and the comfort of his presence washing over you. Then, to your surprise, Trent turned slightly in his chair, gently tugging at you. Before you knew it, you were perched on his lap, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. “Perfect. Now I can eat and hold you,” he teased, grinning as he grabbed his fork again. You laughed, tucking your head into the crook of his neck

 “Multitasking at its finest,” you joked back, though your heart was swelling with how easy and affectionate he was with you. For a moment, you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, the world outside the house feeling like it didn’t exist. You’d never imagined that someone like Trent, someone so chaotic yet grounding, could fit so seamlessly into your quiet moments like this.

“Alright,” he said after a final bite, placing his fork down with a soft clink. He kissed the side of your head, his lips lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Let’s get to Formby, yeah?” You smiled against his shoulder, nodding. 

As you stood in Trent’s room, rifling through the bits of clothing he’d left scattered on the bed, you came to a realization—you didn’t have anything to put on. A Yves Saint Laurent mini dress was hardly something that you wanted to sit on a cold north western shoreline in. You sighed, holding up one of Trent’s jumpers, oversized and impossibly soft, the faint scent of him clinging to the fabric.you shook your head trying to get away from your nagging thoughts. 

“If I wear this, will I look as cool as you?” you teased, turning to face him with a playful smile. Trent glanced up from his phone, his brow raising as he looked you over. 

“Nah… probably not,” he replied with a sly grin, leaning back against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Feigning a look of hurt, you clutched the jumper to your chest.

“Wow,” you said, your voice dripping with mock offense. He chuckled and pushed off the frame, walking over to you. 

“I’m kidding. You’re much cooler, baby,” he admitted, his grin softening as he watched you pull the jumper over your head. You tugged it into place, the hem hitting your thighs as the sleeves engulfed your hands.

“I like this though,” you murmured, adjusting the neckline and pulling it close to your skin. It was comfortable, yes, but it was more than that. It felt like him, and you didn’t want to take it off. “Can I wear it…just to the beach?” You asked. Trent hummed as his gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression shifting into something softer. 

“Course. It suits you,” he said quietly. You smiled at his words but couldn’t ignore the thought that gnawed at the back of your mind. You wanted to keep it, to have this piece of him to carry with you. But it wasn’t like with anyone else—this wasn’t some casual boy whose clothes you could wear home without question. If you showed up at your house in Trent’s jumper, Jack would undoubtedly have something to say. Trent must’ve seen the flicker of hesitation in your eyes because he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tug at the oversized sleeve. “I know, pretty girl. We’ll figure it out,” he offered simply. You wanted to ask ‘how?’ so badly, to use this one small thing to help define and clarify your entire relationship. The weight of reality had settled over you like a shadow, the stark reminder of everything complicated about the two of you neatly tucked between moments when it felt like things might finally be working.

“Okay,” you whispered softly, your fingers curling around the hem. You looked up at him, his dark eyes holding yours in a way that made your chest ache. Slowly, you nodded.  As you smoothed down the fabric, Trent reached out and tilted your chin up gently with his fingers. 

“Okay” he murmured, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “day by day. Yeah?” He knew that this was more than just some silly jumper. He understood how much this hurt but that’s all you could do, go day by day. To rush it wasn’t smart. It didn’t make sense. You rolled your eyes, your heart lighter despite the weight of everything else. 

“Obviously,” you teased, your voice softer than before. And with that, you grabbed your bag, ready to leave pulling the sleeves over your hands feeling like it was something far more significant than just a piece of clothing. Something that tethered you to him, even as the rest of the world threatened to pull you apart.

The beach stretched out in front of you, a vast expanse of cold, pale sand meeting the endless blue-grey of the sea. The wind was brisk but refreshing, carrying the tang of saltwater and the soft cries of distant gulls. You and Trent sat on a low sand dune, the world around you quiet save for the rhythmic crash of waves breaking against the shore. You pulled his jumper over your hands again and dug your barefeet into the sand. Trent shifted beside you, his hands buried in his pockets for warmth. He glanced at you and opened his mouth…

“So, what do—” He began to speak. You stopped him gently. 

“T, it’s okay.” your voice was soft but certain. He furrowed his brow, confused for a moment, and you turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I know you say I yap during movies,” you teased lightly, “but you yap during moments.” You cooed gently. His mouth curved into a sheepish grin, your voice was quieter now, almost carried away by the wind. “It’s okay to just sit here and breathe.” You gestured to the horizon with a tilt of your head. “Be in the air, take in the sights, really listen to the sounds. Just… reset, you know?” Trent didn’t respond right away. He turned his attention back to the waves, the tension in his shoulders easing as he absorbed your words but you felt like you needed to explain yourself. “I just need to sit sometimes,” you added, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them close. Your gaze swept over the sea, the endless ebb and flow grounding you in a way nothing else could. You’d come to the seaside once a month at least since your mum passed. Your dad used to bring you. You wouldn’t talk much but it just gave you two the space you so desperately needed. But even after he stopped going, you kept coming. It felt like home, a place you needed when your house at the time felt so empty.  Trent shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. He didn’t speak, and for once, neither did you. The silence wasn’t empty; it was full—full of the crash of the waves, the rustling of the grass behind you, and the occasional whistle of the wind. You tilted your head to glance at him, and his profile was soft against the muted light of the overcast sky. His lips parted slightly, as if he were about to say something, but then he stopped himself. Instead, he leaned back on his hands, letting his eyes drift back to the horizon.

“Reset,” he echoed quietly, almost to himself. You smiled to yourself, turning back to face the waves, letting the cold air bite at your cheeks as the two of you simply sat there. The weight of the world felt lighter, here on the sand dunes, just the two of you, sharing a moment without needing to fill it with anything more than what it already was. The quiet enveloped you again, the wind whistling softly through the dunes, but soon Trent’s question broke the stillness. “Baby… what did your mum want you to tell me?” he asked gently, his voice careful but steady, his eyes fixed on you. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt your heart skip. He felt it last night, you felt it last night, those three words looming. That lingering feeling that stemmed from the book you tried to give him when you attempted to end it all. Of course, he’d ask. It was ominous in a way. Your mum urging you to ‘tell Trent.’ But last night, your first date, you both could feel the words rising in your throats, they were desperate to come out. The love was so obviously there and sleep hadn’t cleared any of those feelings away. Trent had a way of seeing through you, even when you tried to bury things deep. The truth lingered just behind your lips, but now didn’t feel like the moment to release it.

“Erm…” you stalled, looking down at the grains of sand shifting beneath your hands as you thought. “I think she just wanted me to be brave with you,” you finally managed, your voice soft and unsteady. “I don’t think it was anything too specific.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn't the truth, and you both knew it. You loved Trent for years and long before this happened even your mum could see that. Trent just couldn’t be the one to cross that line. He couldn’t do it to Jack, he couldn’t put you in that position, he needed you to do it, needed to hear you say it. The look in his eyes told you he could see right through the veil of your words, but he didn’t press. Instead, he hummed softly, acknowledging the lie but choosing to let it rest for now.

“I remember once,” you began, your voice somehow even quieter now, as if sharing a memory you rarely spoke about, “I told my mum about how nice you were to me one afternoon. We were teenagers, and you bought me a hot chocolate while at a christmas market.” You smiled faintly at the memory, as Trent’s thumb brushed over your arm absently. “She asked me if I told you that. How much it meant.” You cooed.

“Did you?” He turned to look at you, curious. You shook your head with a small, rueful laugh. 

“No. When I said I hadn’t, she told me, ‘Everyone likes to know they’re… appreciated.’ I still think about that now.” You could hear your mum’s voice as you spoke her words. She didn’t say ‘appreciated’ though, she had said ‘loved’ but you couldn’t get that word out. His lips curved into a soft smile as you glanced at him. “I wish I’d taken her advice then,” you admitted, the weight of your words carrying something more. “I wish I told her more. I wish I told you more.” You sighed. You lowered your eyes, the guilt of unsaid things knotting in your chest. 

“Baby…”He exhaled as his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The warmth of his lips against your skin made your eyes sting with tears. “It’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, his voice barely above a whisper. “I knew… and she definitely knew.” The words settled in your heart, bittersweet but comforting. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as the waves crashed in the distance. Neither of you spoke again for a while, but his arm stayed firmly around you, a silent promise that in this moment, you weren’t alone.

The drive away from the beach was quiet, but your mind was anything but. The ache in your chest was sharp and persistent, the kind that comes from confusion and longing tangled together. You loved Trent—you knew you loved him. So why couldn’t you just say it? Unfortunately, you knew why. You were terrified he didn’t feel the same. Terrified that once the words were out, the delicate balance you’d built together would crumble.

As the car came to a stop in his driveway, you peeled off the jumper you’d borrowed, the familiar fabric suddenly feeling too heavy on your skin. It hurt—giving it back hurt—like you were handing over a piece of him that you weren’t sure you’d get to keep. Trent wasn’t sure what to say because there was nothing to say to fix this… there were only things he could do to fix it. Trent turned to you, his eyes soft but filled with unspoken things. He didn’t take the jumper from you immediately, instead reaching out to pull you toward him, his hand firm on your hip. The motion was gentle but insistent, and before you could think, his forehead was pressed to yours.

“I’m gonna make us work, okay?” he said, his voice low and steady, a conviction behind his words that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to do anything else. A sniffle escaped, and he caught it, brushing a thumb across your cheek before pulling you into him for a brief, grounding hug. Believing him was all you could do because it was all you wanted. You’d dreamed of this for years, and now it was here, fragile and imperfect, but here. When the car service pulled into the driveway, your heart sank further. This wasn’t how you imagined the evening ending. Trent wanted to bring you home, you could see it in the way his eyes flickered with frustration. But you had told him it was fine, and it was. Jack would be at your place, and it just wasn’t the time—not yet. He didn’t argue, though you could feel the tension radiating off him as he walked you to the car. Before you slid inside, he kissed you in the driveway. It wasn’t a quick, casual goodbye; it was all-consuming. The kind of kiss that stole your breath, that made you feel like the ground beneath you didn’t exist. You clung to him for a moment, wishing the car would disappear, wishing you could just stay wrapped in him and let everything else fade away. But eventually, you pulled back, his hands reluctantly dropping to his sides. As you slid into the back seat of the car, the cool leather of the seats pressed against your bare thighs, a harsh reminder of reality. Through the window, you caught one last look at him—standing there, hands in his pockets, watching as the car pulled away. He looked as reluctant to let you go as you felt. The ache in your chest deepened, but somewhere in the back of your mind, his words echoed. And you had to hold onto that because it was the only thing keeping the ache from completely taking over.

You walked into the kitchen after a shower late in the day, the faint hum of voices reaching your ears as you approached. Jack was just ending a phone call, his tone sounded curt.

“Alright, mate. Talk later,” he said and hung up. Across the room, Noah sat at the island, casually picking at a plate of food, his posture relaxed as though he’d been there for a while. Jack turned to Noah with a furrowed brow, a look of mild irritation shadowing his face. “Have you heard anything from Trentski lately?” he asked, leaning against the counter with crossed arms.

“Not too much. Why?” Noah shrugged, chewing slowly, his mouth full mumbling his words together.

“He’s been off with me,” Jack said, his voice edged with frustration. “Even just now on the phone, he sounded so… standoffish. He’s been like this for a while now. I don’t know what his problem is.” You froze mid-step, pretending to fidget with something on the counter as you silently listened. Your pulse quickened, and you avoided meeting their eyes, praying your face wouldn’t betray you. Noah tilted his head thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, he has been a bit off,” he said, as if just realizing it himself. “But, you know Trent. The only time he ever really retreats like this is when he’s being pissy about something. He’s not an open book.” Noah smirked looking for a joke. But Jack only sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Right? But, bro, it feels targeted at me… like if I’ve done something lad, just say it. But no, he has to act all cryptic and moody. What’s his deal?” Jack asked openly, getting a bit frustrated with Trent’s growing resistance towards him. Where did his best friend go? Noah hesitated, a small smirk pulling at his lips before he continued.

 “Well… I mean, I did hear him talking with someone the other night,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair. Jack perked up. 

“What do you mean? Like on the phone?” He asked earnestly.

“Yeah, mate,” Noah replied, shaking his head in disbelief recalling the scene. “It was when we were all over at my place for that movie night. He stepped into the kitchen and I walked in on him on the phone. He was talking to a girl—but it was clearly more than some link to him.” Your stomach dropped, the knot of anxiety in your chest tightening. You wondered if this was the call with you. You assumed it was unless he had called someone after for reprieve. You’d hoped not, so you listened carefully. You kept your movements deliberate and slow, opening a cupboard and pretending to inspect its contents, though you were barely processing what was in front of you.

“A girl?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. Noah nodded. 

“Bro….” he cautioned him as if to prepare Jack for how Trent was acting on this call. “Yeah, mate. And he sounded different, too—like… nervous. Almost sweet, if you can believe it. I didn’t think much of it, he was being sus, wouldn’t let me in but now? I dunno, I think Trent’s in deep that’s why he’s not around.” He explained.

“In deep?” Jack repeated, laughing. “Come on, mate. It’s Trent. The guy doesn’t do deep.” Noah laughed along with him.

“That’s what I thought so it didn’t track at first. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it - where did he find a bird he’s like this with. But I’m serious. I think he’s caught feelings. Jack… mate, I mean it, from what I witnessed he might even have proper feelings for this girl. He was a mess.” Noah laughed reminiscing on the sheer joy he felt watching ever composed Trent fumble over his words on the phone. But then the two of them burst out laughing, the idea seemingly too absurd for them to fathom. 

“Nah, not Trenty. Not a chance.” Jack shook his head, still chuckling. “We would've met the girl,” he added. But their laughter barely registered as your heart sank. Their words lingered, each one hitting you like a stone sinking deeper into the pit of your stomach. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. You glanced over your shoulder just enough to catch Jack shaking his head again. “He’d tell me if it was serious,” he said, his voice confident. “Wouldn’t he?” Noah shrugged noncommittally, and Jack turned his attention back to whatever was in front of him. You couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest, the mix of emotions swirling inside you—fear, guilt, and a growing sense of hopelessness. The way they dismissed the idea of Trent being in love felt like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of how precarious everything had been and yet simultaneously how meaningless. Would this ultimately just end up being a secret you’d have to take to the grave, the few months you got with your brother’s best friend. It all made you so angry. You wanted to scream, to storm out of the kitchen, to do something, anything, but instead, you stayed frozen in place, clinging to the façade that nothing was wrong. You reached up to grab a glass from the cabinet, trying to keep your movements calm and steady despite the weight of their conversation. Jack, leaning against the island, folded his arms as he pressed further. “Was it that girl Jess?” he asked, his tone sharp. “You know, Meg’s friend, the last one he was hooking up with? She was around his for a bit, wasn’t she?” The mention of another name—Jess—had your stomach twisting in knots, the glass slipping from your fingers. It shattered against the tile floor, the loud crash jolting all three of you. “Jesus, Y/N!” Jack whipped around, his eyes wide with alarm. “You good?” He asked with genuine concern looking at the shards scattered around your feet. A visual representation of your life at the minute, he could never understand.

“Sorry!” you stammered, kneeling quickly to pick up the pieces, your hands shaking. “I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry, sorry I’ll clean it up.” You babbled nervously as your hands shook. Jack rolled his eyes, muttering something about you being careless, while Noah leaned over slightly, glancing down at you. He tried to move the conversation forward, his voice lighthearted as if to brush past your blunder. Nothing too deep, people drop things.

“Nah, it wasn’t Jess,” Noah said, laughing a little as he kept picking at his food. “This girl has him fucked up, mate. Like, completely different vibe.” He explained.

“What do you mean?” Jack’s interest was piqued. 

“I mean,” Noah began, leaning back in his chair, “I heard him that night. He wasn’t just trying to get her to come over. He was begging for her to stay. He sounded desperate, almost scared she wouldn’t. I’m telling you mate. He was a mess.” Noah further explained to Jack.  You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the words sank in. The shards of glass in your hand suddenly felt sharper, more dangerous. Noah continued, oblivious to the effect his words were having on you. “Apparently, this is the girl, mate. He told me, like, the one. Dream girl status. He’s in love with her.” Noah emphasized word. The idea of love sent a shockwave through you. 

“Fuck.” You whimpered carelessly as your hand slipped against a jagged edge of glass, and you winced as a sharp sting sliced through your skin.

“Shit, Y/N!” Noah exclaimed, leaning forward. “You alright?” You nodded quickly, shaking your head as if to clear the haze in your mind.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice unsteady. “Just—just a little cut. I’ll clean it up.”

“You’re bleeding everywhere,” Jack said, grabbing a tea towel and tossing it in your direction quickly, nervous you might bleed out by the time he got over to you. “Be careful, for fuck’s sake. You promise you’re okay?” He asked seriously, moving towards you now faster from the other side of the room. Noah still looked concerned, but you waved them both off, standing up and wrapping your finger in the towel. 

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, grabbing the broom with your uninjured hand. “I’ve got it.” You waved Jack off so he gave you the space. But your mind wasn’t on the mess. It was on Noah’s words. Trent was in love? The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you dizzy and disoriented. Could it really be you he was talking about? Noah knew Trent like the back of his hand… he’d know how Trent really felt about someone. Was this the call with you… or maybe worse, was this a call with someone else—someone like Jess, someone who wasn’t tangled up in a web of secrets and guilt? You stole a glance at Jack, who was already back distracted by his phone, completely unaware of the storm raging inside you. Noah, meanwhile, had gone back to his food, the conversation now drifting into casual banter. But you couldn’t focus. All you could think about was Trent. Was this real? Could he really feel that way about you? And if he did… what did it mean for everything else? For Jack? For you? You swallowed hard, the cut on your finger forgotten as the weight of it all settled on your chest.

The boy Devon, the Manchester United player, Josh’s friend, that you spotted at dinner wasted no time, spinning the scene he’d witnessed like a web of intrigue. Seeing you and Trent at dinner together had been unexpected, even puzzling. On its own, it might’ve been easily dismissed—after all, you and Trent had history, you knew each other through Jack and people could convince themselves it was merely friendly. But there was something about the way Trent looked at you that night, a softness, a protectiveness that the boy hadn’t missed. It planted a seed, one that began to grow in the back of his mind and one he was ready to share with your ex. When saw Josh next, he was ready for his opportunity to stir the pot

“You’ll never guess who I saw the other night,” Devon said, leaning against a locker with a smirk. “Mate… Y/N L/N and Trent Alexander-Arnold. At dinner.” Josh’s head whipped around at the mention of your name. 

“What?” he asked sharply, his voice betraying a flicker of interest despite himself.

“At dinner,” Devon repeated, dragging it out for effect. “Looked cozy too. Candlelit table, just the two of them.” Josh frowned, his jaw tightening. 

“C’mon. Bro, I know I said shit about her before but they’re friends. She’s Jack’s sister. That’s been her thing for years. He’s never gone for it.” Josh explained having a hard time wrapping his head around it. He knew you wanted Trent, he could even see the way Trent wanted you but it actually happening… and not behind closed doors? Out in public? It seemed so farfetched.

“Maybe,” Devon said with a shrug, though his smirk didn’t waver. “But you know, sometimes even the nice ones… snap. He didn’t look like a ‘just friends’ kind of guy to me. Looked like he finally realized what was right in front of him.” He smugly told Josh. Josh tried to laugh it off, but there was an edge to it, sharp and bitter. 

“Whatever, mate. She’s not my problem anymore.” He muttered.

“Sure,” Devon replied smoothly, though he didn’t believe it for a second. He could see the flicker of annoyance in Josh’s eyes, the remnants of a claim Josh still felt over you, no matter how fractured things had been between you. “So you wouldn’t believe a photo of them then?” Devon smirked flashing him the photo he took on his screen. Josh jumped to grab the phone, shocked. He inspected the photo fuming. Devon snatched his phone back out of his hands “Looks pretty fucking friendly to me, mate.” He smugly laughed as he turned to leave the room. But Josh couldn’t leave it there, he had seen it, he needed more information, he needed more… ammunition. As Devon walked away, his words echoed in Josh’s mind. Trent and Y/N? At dinner? It was almost laughable, except it wasn’t. Josh had known you long enough to know how deep your feelings for Trent ran, even when you tried to hide it. And if Trent had finally reciprocated? He hated the thought, he hated the photo, he hated that Trent’s waiting game won out. It made him sick. He pushed you to Trent and then as a lump formed in his throat, his anger towards you shoved it down. He hated you for choosing Trent. Cynicism crept in, laced with exasperation and a thirst for vengeance. He remembered the sting of your split, the way things ended and why, and how easily you seemed to fall into the waiting arms of Trent—at least in his eyes. And now, you two were parading around together? It wasn’t about love or loss anymore. It was about pride, about the idea of someone like Trent waltzing into his old territory without so much as a second thought. Josh began to piece together a plan. If Trent thought he could take you out of Josh’s life and into his unnoticed, he was wrong. And if you thought this could stay secret, you were wrong too. A wicked grin spread across Josh’s face as he envisioned the chaos it might cause when Jack found out. How much it would hurt you, hurt Trent. He didn’t care if he and Devon were wrong, if it was just ‘friendly.’ The perception alone would be enough. Josh grabbed his phone, thumbing through his contacts until he landed on Jack’s name. He didn’t press call—not yet. He needed to get the photo first and timing was everything, and he intended to make sure this landed perfectly.  After all, what better way to even the score than to drop a bombshell like this?

The gossip about Trent seeing someone began to brew more and more each day. Evidently, seeping beyond just Jack and Noah but into other friend groups.  You were out at the shops just stopping to pick up a few things when you spotted Megan and Jess as you rounded the corner of the produce aisle, their voices reaching you before their faces did. Megan was pleasant, flashing you a smile when she saw you, but Jess’s expression was harder to read. Her eyes lingered on you, sharp and curious, as if she was sizing you up.

“Y/N!” Megan greeted, her tone light and cheerful. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Haven’t seen you in a minute, probably since the other week at the birthday.” You offered a polite smile, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Yeah, course. Hi. I’m just picking up a few things.” You cooed softly. The conversation started innocently enough. Megan talked about Jack, about her plans for the weekend, and you nodded along, trying to keep your responses short. But then, the conversation shifted.

“So,” Megan said casually, “we’ve heard rumblings that Trent’s seeing someone.” Her words hit you like a freight train. A part of you was instinctively annoyed at your brother just imagining him complaining to Megan about Trent and relaying Noah’s information spilled in the kitchen. You didn’t know if that was who told her but you could imagine. Your grip on your bag tightened, but you forced your face to remain neutral. 

“Yeah? I wouldn’t know,” you said quickly, hoping the lie sounded believable.

“Hmm,” Jess hummed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Her skepticism was evident, and you could feel her eyes burning into you. She didn’t believe you for a second. Megan tilted her head, clearly confused by your answer. 

“I mean, you two are close though, aren’t you? You’re always with the boys! I feel like you’d hear or I’d think he’d tell you even.” She smiled sincerely. If Megan was being honest she knew you had a crush on Trent, it was glaringly obvious but she wasn’t going to hurt you and call you out on it. Besides, her friend Jess liked him, she was just looking for intel. You hesitated, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“I guess… I mean, if he wasn’t, I’m sure he’d reach out or something. I don’t really know what’s going on with him right now.” You babbled awkwardly. You didn’t know what to say really. But what you did say…was a rookie mistake. You realized it the moment the words left your mouth. Jess’s smirk widened, and Megan’s eyebrows shot up.

“So he is seeing someone,” Megan said slowly, her confusion deepening. “Because he definitely hasn’t reached out to Jess.” She glanced at her friend, then back at you, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Megan knew you liked Trent but from the lens of a little sister liking her older brother’s friend- nothing more. She wasn’t being cynical or mean she was just looking for information. And right now she was with Jess, who hadn’t shut up about Trent falling off the grid for months. Your cheeks burned, and you felt your chest tighten. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, you fumbled with your shopping bags, pretending they were suddenly too heavy to manage.

“Erm, I really don’t know,” you said, your voice shaky. “Sorry, I’ve got to go—running late.” Without waiting for a response, you darted away, your heart pounding as you put as much distance between yourself and them as possible. You could feel their eyes on you as you turned the corner, and you didn’t dare look back. The encounter left you rattled. You gripped your bags tightly, replaying the exchange in your head as you hurried down the street, your heart pounding. Megan’s raised eyebrows, Jess’s sharp, knowing glances—it all felt like a storm you weren’t prepared for. Their words echoed in your mind. ‘So he’s seeing someone.’ They didn’t know it was you, but the realization and possibility that they were piecing it together made your stomach churn. Jess’s skepticism had been palpable, her eyes narrowing like she already suspected the truth but was waiting for you to slip. You sighed as you reached your car, fumbling with the keys. Why had you even tried to lie? It wasn’t like you were good at it, and the awkward babbling only made things worse. But what were you supposed to do? Confirm it? Out yourself? Out Trent? That wasn’t an option either. But why did he want it secret? You guessed it was good Jess hadn’t heard from him. But how long had it been? Was there in overlap? As you sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls were closing in. The more the gossip spread, the harder it would be to keep your relationship under wraps. The thought of Jack finding out this way—through whispers and rumors—made you feel sick.

You thought about texting Trent, maybe to warn him or just to vent, but even that felt risky. Instead, you took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. This was the price of keeping things a secret, wasn’t it? The constant worry, the careful balancing act, the fear that one slip could send it all crashing down. And yet, despite it all, you knew you couldn’t stay away from him. Trent was worth it. At least, you hoped he was. You hoped he thought the same about you, that he wouldn’t falter under the pressure building around you both. As you pulled out of the parking lot, you tried to shake off the anxiety, telling yourself it would all blow over. But deep down, you knew this was only the beginning. The gossip wasn’t going to stop, and neither, it seemed, was the tension.

It felt surreal, wearing Trent’s jersey to a home game at Anfield. He’d given it to you weeks ago, but when you finally were all going to a match, he officially asked you to wear it tonight, it felt different—more deliberate, more intimate. The weight of it wasn’t just fabric; it was a claim, a silent declaration that you were his. The box was buzzing with energy as you sat with Jack, Noah, Layla, Megan, Trent’s family, and more of their friends, all of them in good spirits after the game started. But the teasing was relentless, especially from Noah.

“Big statement, Y/N,” he quipped, eyeing the bolded double barreled surname and number on your back. Everyone’s eyes flickered towards you as you took off your coat. You rolled your eyes. 

“Wait… When did you get the new kit? What the fuck… I wanted one.” Jack snapped annoyed. But then Megan spoke over him. She leaned over squeezing your leg kindly. 

“Don’t let the cameras catch that. You’ll start rumors.” Megan laughed as Noah chuckled, shaking his head. You forced a laugh, shrugging off their remarks, but your cheeks burned under their scrutiny. You turned to continue your conversation with Layla praying they’d drop the whole thing. They had no idea what the jersey truly meant, and part of you relished that secrecy, even as you squirmed under their playful jabs. 

The game flew by in a blur of cheering, tension, and stolen glances at the man on the pitch. Trent looked up toward the box once or twice, and though his focus remained on the match, you could feel his presence even from afar. It wasn’t just a jersey; it was a tether, a connection that made your chest swell with pride every time his name echoed through the stadium.When the final whistle blew and the crowd erupted but then a bit after that… your phone buzzed quietly in your lap.

'Meet me outside the box. I need to see you properly in that kit, baby.'

Your heart skipped, and you swallowed down a smile. Glancing around, you tried to look nonchalant as you slipped your phone into your pocket and stood.

“I’ll be right back,” you said casually, already heading toward the door. “Bathroom or something.” Jack barely acknowledged you, too wrapped up in conversation with Megan and their friends. Layla smirked as you stepped out of the box and into the quieter halls, your footsteps quickening as you made your way to the exit. The moment you saw him coming down the corridor, your heart skipped. He looked effortlessly striking in his tracksuit, exhaustion etched across his features, but the instant his eyes landed on you, a flash of pure happiness lit up his face. Before you could say a word, he closed the distance, pulling you into his arms in a tight, possessive embrace. His warmth surrounded you, and you buried your face into the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of him. 

"You played so well," you murmured, your words muffled by his skin as you pressed soft kisses to his neck.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice low and filled with something deeper. His hands came up to gently cup your face, tilting it so your eyes met.

"Yeah," you confirmed with a shy smile. "Were you trying to impress someone?" you teased, watching as his lips curved into a smirk.

"Maybe," he said, his thumb brushing along your cheek. "Depends. Did I?" He asked. You giggled, nodding as your arms looped around his waist. His hands slid down your sides, firm and deliberate, until they rested on your hips. He tugged you closer, the heat of his body sending a rush of warmth through you. "You look so good tonight," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. His eyes dropped to the jersey you wore-his jersey—and his fingers toyed with the hem. "Fuck me, I like you in this. But I wish I wasn't absolutely knackered, 'cause all I can think about is taking it off you." A teasing grin tugged at your lips as you slipped your hands around his waist, finding the drawstrings of his joggers. 

"I can take care of you tonight, don’t worry, baby," you whispered, your fingers grazing his skin beneath the fabric. "I could even take this off for you." His breath hitched, and he hummed appreciatively, leaning down to press his lips to your neck. His kisses were lazy, languid, and filled with an unspoken promise. He bit down gently, making you gasp, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

"Keep talking like that, and we’re gonna leave right now," he murmured against your skin, his hands slipping under the hem of the jersey to brush against your bare back. You laughed softly, reluctantly pulling back. 

"We should go back inside before they come looking for us." you smiled sympathetically at him. He groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

"You're lucky I'm too tired otherwise you’d be halfway to my bed right now" he teased, but his hands lingered on your hips as you pulled away. 

“I’ll be in your bed in a bit, okay?” You smirked with a cheeky grin. He hummed in response as you turned, his eyes watching your every move like you were the only thing in the world he needed. As you both made your way back to the suite, you couldn't help but feel the imprint of his touch, every whisper of his affection lingering on your skin.

After the match, the usual buzz of a big win had everyone making loose plans to head out, but Trent’s firm 'nah' shifted the momentum. Slowly, the group began to disband, everyone falling back into their own routines. You lingered in the suite as people trickled out, catching Trent’s eye. When you leaned in to hug him goodbye, you buried your face into his neck, the familiar warmth and scent of him grounding you. 

“Still want me to come over, or are you too tired?” You asked softly, whispering into his ear. He hummed against your hair, his voice low and barely audible. 

“Mmhmm please.” The moment stretched just a little too long, just a little too close, and when you finally pulled back, it was enough for Noah to pipe up.

“Ermmm… that was fucking weird, bro. Let go of her,” he laughed, his voice breaking the intimate bubble you’d created with Trent. You tried to play it cool, smoothing your expression. 

“What? A cuddle?” you said, feigning innocence.

“Yeah,” he laughed with Noah. “Y/N, are you drunk?” Jack asked you jokingly citing the only time you and Trent were that affectionate was at parties after tequila shots and lowered inhibitions. He leaned against Megan with a raised brow. “Why are you throwing yourself at him like that?” He asked a bit more earnestly and the tension sharpened, the air suddenly heavy. You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, but before you could scramble for a response, Layla swooped in.

“Jesus, just kiss already,” she teased, swatting playfully at Trent with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Her comment hit like a match to dry kindling. The room erupted in laughter, the tension instantly diffused. You shot her a grateful smile as she grinned back knowingly. “Coming to stay with me tonight,” Layla said, still half-laughing but with a subtle edge of sincerity, offering the perfect cover. “We’ll have a girls’ night. Do a face mask or whatever.” Trent smirked but said nothing, letting Layla’s quick wit take the spotlight. The group moved on, their teasing fading as they returned to casual chatter. The room felt lighter again, and you knew you owed Layla for smoothing over what could’ve been a minefield. As everyone packed up and started heading out, Trent caught your eye again, a quiet promise lingering between you both.

The drive home was quiet at first, the soft hum of the radio filling the silence between you and Layla. But you could feel her glances, her curiosity practically brimming over.

“So… what’s going on with you and Trent? Post-date, I mean.” She finally asked. You sighed, resting your head against the window. 

“It was meant to be good,” you began, your voice low, “but it feels just like before, especially tonight. Just hidden. I thought we were ready to move forward, you know?” Layla frowned, her tone gentle but probing. 

“So what’s stopping you?” You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Lay, what if I don’t want it? Not like this. Sometimes… sometimes I feel like I’m the one pulling him into the shadows, like we’re both doing this to each other. Hiding.  Like he’s subtle but I’m… hiding. And now, with Josh’s friend Devon… seeing us at dinner—God, I’m terrified.” Her face softened as she glanced at you, one hand briefly leaving the wheel to give your knee a reassuring squeeze.

 “It’ll be okay,” she said gently. “It’s just going to take time, yeah? You and Trent have always had this… thing. You guys have communicated so long with no words, going off glances but now… things have to change. You’ll figure it out.” You nodded, but her words only soothed the surface. The knots in your stomach refused to untangle. By the time you arrived at Trent’s house, the air between you and him felt thick. Not with anger—no, it wasn’t that—but with emotion. Too much, all at once.

The tension wasn’t hostile, but it was heavy. You both cared so deeply for one another, but the weight of it was beginning to show, even behind closed doors where no one else could see. When you crawled into bed with him that night, there was no talk of passion or promises. No desperate moves to bridge the gap between your feelings and your fears. Instead, you simply held each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he tucked his chin over your head. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur. You didn’t respond, but you didn’t need to. You nestled into him, letting his warmth soothe the ache in your chest. Everything about that moment should have been perfect. The way his heartbeat steadied your breathing, the way his hands absentmindedly rubbed circles into your back. And yet, nothing was. You fell asleep tangled together, but the ache of what wasn’t said lingered.

Noah was throwing a party. He had tossed you and Layla the usual invites you’d come to expect to receive. The music pulsed through his house, spilling out onto the lawn as you and Layla stepped inside. The scene was much bigger than you anticipated—people were crammed into every corner, the laughter and chatter nearly deafening. Layla raised a skeptical brow as you glanced at each other. You shrugged. Noah’s usual ‘small gathering’ had clearly spiraled into something else.

“Aye, you alright?” Trent’s voice cut through the crowd. He spotted you almost immediately, a grin spreading across his face. You’d been texting all day, but nothing substantial had changed between you. The limbo of your relationship was still palpable, and yet, seeing him now, your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah, all good,” you replied sweetly with a small smile, though you couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Layla folded her arms, glancing around at the sheer number of people. 

“Didn’t know the whole squad would be here,” she muttered, clearly unimpressed. Trent gave her a cheeky hug, a quick and friendly gesture, before turning his attention fully to you. His arms wrapped around you in a much tighter, longer embrace, swaying slightly with a hum as he leaned into you. His scent—faint cologne mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol—was intoxicating.

“Missed you, baby,” you whispered in his ear, your teeth pulling on his earlobe, your words soft, just for him. Before you could step back, he tightened his grip, pulling you impossibly closer. His lips brushed against your ear, and he murmured something low, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“Look so sexy. Gonna let me fuck you in the toilet again, yeah?” He cheekily whispered. It was more of a tease then an actual ask but then again, maybe it wasn’t. Your eyes widened briefly at his words, but you nodded, the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile. Layla tugged at the back of your top, signaling for you to let go of him, because you had no plans to, but you barely moved. Trent’s arms lingered around you for just a moment longer before he reluctantly pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he met your gaze one last time.

“What did he say?” Layla asked under her breath, watching you carefully. You shook your head with a small laugh, brushing it off. 

“Nothing,” you lied, though your cheeks betrayed you with a warm flush. Layla gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further, letting the moment settle as the party surged on around you. 

Trent stood slightly off to the side of his friends, arms crossed and his focus split. Noah was with him, cracking jokes as always, but the boy beside them—Bailey—was an unfamiliar face, part of a wider circle of acquaintances that Trent didn’t know well. What started as idle conversation quickly shifted the moment Bailey’s attention landed on you across the room.Bailey’s jaw slackened, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made Trent’s stomach churn. His discomfort was immediate, though he kept his face neutral, following Bailey’s gaze. You were talking to Layla, smiling brightly, your hand gesturing animatedly as you spoke.

“She’s certainly not ugly,” Noah noticing, quipped with a laugh, slapping Bailey on the back.

“She’s so fit, mate,” Bailey added, his voice dripping with awe. “Fucks sake, mate. Any of you get with her?” Trent’s jaw tightened at the audacity of the question, but Noah—always quick to stir the pot—grinned and threw in a jab.

“Trenty wishes,” Noah smirked, throwing a few playful punches at Trent’s arm. “But he’s got a new bird now apparently. So what’s going on there with Y/N then? I thought you'd take her up on the offer eventually.”

“Nah, don’t say that. Jack would kill me, you know that,” Trent shot back quickly, his voice steady despite the unease settling in his chest. He knew bringing up Jack was the easiest way to shut the conversation down, but it wasn’t the full truth. Bailey frowned, looking between them in confusion. 

“You lot don’t think about her that way?” he asked, incredulous.

“I mean, course,” Trent admitted instinctively fast and drunkenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He immediately wanted to hit himself. Noah, catching the crack in Trent’s usual composure, smirked smugly. 

“Jack’s not here tonight, lad. It’s your limited window. You’re telling me you don’t notice the way she acts around you? Notice the way she looks?” Noah’s cheek was growing and Tren’t resolve was dwindling. He let out a long sigh, his gaze drifting back to you as you tilted your head back with a laugh at something Layla said. The warm overhead lights danced over your skin, making you look radiant. His chest ached with longing, the lie he lived burning in his throat.

“I mean, yeah. She’s beautiful,” Trent said softly, almost to himself.

“Beautiful?” Bailey barked out a laugh. “She’s fucking fit. Got a body on her.” Trent’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt as he scanned your body over the same way Bailey was, from the tip of your boots to the top of your head, desire on both of their minds.

“Erm, yeah, mate.” Trent’s eyes narrowed. “She’s something,” he said quietly, shaking his head in frustration. Noah, sensing the tension, pressed further, his voice full of teasing delight.

“Trent knows her well,” he told Bailey, grinning. Trent scoffed, trying to brush it off. “You do!” Noah yelped. “Bro, you’re the only one she sits with. The only one she lets touch her. And no one says anything. C’mon, Trenty, stop playing nice. Tell the lad about her.” Noah prodded pushing Trent to tell Bailey how great you were knowing it’d be hard for him. 

“Nah, mate. I guess, I don’t know,” Trent muttered, forcing the words out in a desperate attempt to end the conversation. But his chest tightened, the weight of his feelings—so much more than Noah or Bailey could understand—bearing down on him. Just then, their other friend, Aidan, walked over, draping an arm around Trent. The distraction was welcome, but it didn’t erase the pit of frustration and yearning brewing inside him. He couldn’t stand this conversation, couldn’t stand Bailey’s gawking, couldn’t stand the charade. Trent’s eyes flicked back to you, his heart thudding as he watched you smile. You were oblivious to the storm swirling in him, but he couldn’t stop himself from feeling like tonight was another reminder of just how much he hated hiding.

“We talking Jack’s sister? Yeah, I won’t lie boys, she’s leng. Come on, you know she’s good in bed as well,” Aidan added casually, his voice slurring slightly with the weight of too many drinks. Trent winced, the comment hitting him like a sharp jab.

“What? Have you?” he asked, his tone panicked and defensive, betraying the calm facade he’d been trying to maintain.

“No, I wish,” Aidan laughed, oblivious to Trent’s reaction. “I mean, you can just tell though.”

“Yeah, you can tell,” Bailey chimed in with a smirk, his eyes lingering on you from across the room. “But mate, it seems like she’s into you. I saw you hug her when she came in.”  Trent’s heart rate picked up, and he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

 “Probably the only one she’d let have a cuddle in that fit,” Noah laughed, throwing fuel on the fire watching you adjust the hem of your mini skirt knowing you’d wouldn't let just any boy put their hands on you when you were out.

“I don’t know how you practice this much restraint if you're already in,” Bailey said, shaking his head in disbelief. Trent swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as Aidan cut back in, leaning slightly closer to Trent as if to confide some secret.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you do it, bro. She always struts around us in nothing." He then looked at Noah and Bailey. "I think she likes the attention, but we all know she likes Trenty’s attention the most.” The words twisted in Trent’s gut like a knife. He hated the way they spoke about you, the casual objectification of someone they knew so well yet also barely knew beyond the surface, the way he did.

“Eh, don’t know lads. She’s just chill. I don’t think she thinks about it,” Trent said, forcing his voice to stay steady.

“Come on,” Noah rolled his eyes, annoyed that even in his drunk state, Trent wouldn’t falter. But Trent couldn’t falter, not here, not now. He knew the boys had always talked shit like this at parties, tossing your name into the mix like you were some topic for debate. Normally, he brushed it off, participating but choosing to stay silent when it came to you rather than feed into it. But tonight, it felt different. The way they lingered, the way they openly dissected the dynamics between you and him—it was too real, too close to everything he was trying so hard to protect. The bitterness welled up in his chest, the laughter around him grating on his nerves. He wanted to say something, to shut it down, but any slip of the truth would only add more fuel to their relentless teasing. So instead, he stood there, silent, his fists clenching at his sides, wishing he could pull you out of this party and into a space where none of these people and their drunken commentary could touch you.

You caught Trent’s gaze across the room, and the intensity of his stare made your cheeks flush. His lips quirked into a soft smile, but the cool, effortless demeanor he carried around everyone else seemed to dissolve under your gaze. Layla caught the exchange instantly, smirking as she raised her hand in an exaggerated wave at him. Trent waved back with a charm that felt deliberate, but even Layla could tell he was unraveling.

“God, you’ve got him absolutely gone,” she teased, nudging you with her shoulder. “Whatever you do in bed with him has him a mess. He can’t even pretend anymore, before at least he had a poker face.” She laughed. You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest was undeniable.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing Layla’s hand and weaving through the crowded room toward the boys.

“Hiyaaa!” Layla purred as you reached the group, giving Noah and Aidan hugs and introducing herself to Bailey with her usual flair. But before you could even exchange pleasantries, Trent was there, sliding his arm around your waist in a way that was both subtle and unmistakably possessive, keeping you from getting even in touching distance of the other boys. His fingers dipped into the back of your skirt refusing to let you even try to create space between you. The contact sent a shiver through you, grounding you in his presence. You leaned into him not wanting any space, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you whispered something cheeky, just for him. Whatever you said made his grin spread wider, his confidence returning as he pulled you closer.

“Gonna drive you home, hmm?” he murmured aloud, his voice low but loud enough for the others to hear. It was casual, a simple blanket statement, that he’d said a million times to you, but the promise hidden in his tone made your heart race. You glanced up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

 “Maybe,” you teased back, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide. Layla smirked at the exchange, watching Trent’s usual composure crack further.

“Nah.” He pulled on your skirt’s waist again bringing you tighter into him. “I said… I’m gonna drive you home. Alright?” Trent commandingly told you. The boys watched on in disbelief but you and Trent remained in your bubble, his hand never leaving your waist as the rest of the world faded into background noise. Bailey's jaw dropped as he took in the moment.

"Bro, they have to bang, no?" he blurted out, completely bewildered by the quiet intimacy playing out before him. Layla shrugged nonchalantly but bit her tongue to keep from saying anything.

"If l even put my hand near her, she'd call me bro and swat me away," Noah laughed, gesturing toward you. "But Trent? Nah, he gets to do whatever he wants. Got that pretty boy privilege. We've got a different thing happening here."

"Yeah, mate, he's got the green light. I don't know what he's waiting for," Aiden chimed in, his tone teetering between disbelief and amusement. Bailey blinked, staring intently as Trent's hand casually disappeared under your top, his fingers gliding softly over your stomach. It wasn't showy or bold, but the gesture was undeniably intimate.

"Wait, did he just—" Bailey started, his eyes wide as he turned to the group. "His hand is under her clothes right now. Is this happening? Lads… is this a thing? Have I just been talking about his girl the whole time?" He looked to Aiden and Noah for answers, as if they were the only ones who might hold the key to what was clearly more than just a casual friendship. Layla sighed, debating whether to tell the boys to mind their own business, but before she could speak, Noah interjected, smirking.

"Not his girl officially haha. I think he just likes the game." He smugly said. Layla snapped her head toward Noah, her eyes narrowing in irritation. The comment, whether a joke or not, grated on her. The idea that you could ever be seen as a game to Trent made her blood boil.

"That's not funny, Noah," she said firmly, her tone sharp enough to make him pause. "They’re friends. That’s how T’s always been with her.” She snapped. Noah took a deep breath of understanding. It wasn’t a joke. Even as much stick as everyone gave you and Trent, no one ever meant any mal intent by it. He knew you had a crush on Trent. He would never want Trent to mess with you like that.

“I know, Lay… sorry. It’s only jokes. They’re mates.” Noah responded awkwardly. Not because of Layla but because he would never want to offend you. The group fell into quiet hums of spectators for a moment but none of them could tear their eyes away from the two of you. Trent's attention remained solely on you, his hand moving in a way that felt both protective and adoring, and it was clear to anyone watching-this wasn't a game for him.

“Aye, lads… I’m gonna drive Y/N home,” Trent announced casually, though the way his arm tightened around your waist betrayed his eagerness. You, tipsy and giggling, clung to his side, completely oblivious to the knowing looks bouncing around the group.

“Yeah, sure,” Bailey laughed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Driving her home. Right.” Trent ignored his comment but it wasn't so easy.

“Tonight’s it, lad,” Aiden whispered, gripping Trent’s shoulder with a cheeky grin. His voice was low, but the teasing intent was unmistakable. Trent shook his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was impossible to hide. To redirect the attention and save face, Trent turned to Layla.

“Lays you want a ride too?” He offered, His voice was kind, but the question was almost rhetorical. Layla waved him off immediately.

 “Nah, I’m good. Noah’s got me,” she replied with a knowing smirk, her eyes darting between the two of you. Noah raised a brow, caught off guard.

 “I do?” he asked, but when Layla shot him a pointed look, he shrugged and leaned into the moment. “Yeah, shit, sorry, sure. Yeah, I do. Always happy to help.” His smug grin only grew as he watched you and Trent prepare to leave together. The group watched as Trent guided you toward the door, his hand never leaving the small of your back. As you stepped out into the cool night air and out from prying eyes, Trent leaned down.

 “You alright, baby?” He whispered. You nodded, smiling up at him. “You wanted me to drive you home?” He looked at you smugly. 

“Mhhmm. To your house please. Just want to be with you,” you murmured, your words laced with affection. And with that, the rest of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, ready to retreat to your own little world.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 12 - Monaco xx

[kanencrow]

Bold and Breathless - Natalie Scatorccio | One Shot

Summary: When hunting with Natalie turns into a game of who's the better shooter, you find yourself kissing her on a whim of confidence (basically just a rewrite of that scene between Natalie and Travis, except it's you taking his place).

Warnings: Kissing, Swearing, Talks/Descriptions of Periods.

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default. Implied afab!reader, but can be interpreted however you want. Also, this is my first post about Yellowjackets, and I've had this drafted in my Google Docs for, like... almost a year, so enjoy!

Word Count: 2300+

Your finger teased the trigger of the rifle in your arms while your pupils flickered about the forest, taking in the scenery and what it carried. All you could see was the lush life of greenery and trees, but when it came to animals of any kind, the signs of them were few and far between. The plush of your cheek used the wooden buttstock as its personal resting place as you gripped the outstretching barrel of the weapon, and you could feel the presence of Natalie right behind you. Although her existence reminded you that you weren't alone, it only increased your embarrassment, due to the fact that you and her were competing against each other, for the sake of making the act of hunting less melancholic.

It wasn't often that you allowed your patience to waver. Though, after a moment longer with nothing showing itself as a feasible target, you quietly huffed and lowered the rifle down, as you deflated into the curved tree you used as your own personal perch. Frustration bloomed, like a wave of heat washing over you, and Natalie noticed your attitude, when she approached you from your left and sighed knowingly as she crinkled the piece of paper she held between her fingers. "Ah, giving up makes sense," she muttered. Her voice was low, which emphasized the raspiness of her natural tone, and you slowly turned your head to meet her eyes with a deadpan that was directed towards her. "You're too far behind to ever catch up."

You turned your body and rested your back up against the tree as you continued to stare at her. She held a cocky smirk on her lips, and although you wanted to show your frustration towards her egotistical nature, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything close to a quip. All you could do was shrug your shoulders and look down at the rifle you cradled in your arms. "Is saying that I'm on my period a valid excuse for my suckiness right now?" you questioned thoughtfully, your eyebrows furrowing in wonder.

"Nope," Natalie replied, her lips popping the 'P' in the word she spoke. You gave her what you could only describe as a pout in response to her denial, and she mockingly frowned at you, but there was still that added affection you could sense coming from the action. "We're synced up, so whatever you're feeling, I'm probably feeling it too," she stated, which made your features scrunch up into a grimace, hating the concept of periods as a whole. The Midol you took in the morning lessened the intense cramps you always got on the first day. You made sure to give your hunting partner one too when she first woke up this morning.

She seemed awfully chipper for someone who was bleeding from the inside, though.

You were a little envious of her.

You let out an almost mute groan when the corkscrew of a cramp spread throughout your lower abdomen. The singular pill clearly hadn't done much for your annoying symptoms, and Natalie seemed to recognize that when her eyes glanced down to the rifle in your arms. She noted the way you clutched it tighter for a moment, which caused your muscles to tense, before you eventually loosened your hold on the gun and let out a fleeting huff that conveyed whatever discomfort you were feeling had passed.

"Where's Travis?" you asked unconsciously, suddenly moving on from the earlier topic you and she shared, while you settled the rifle down and leaned it up against the bark beside you. "He's not experiencing debilitating cramps right now. He should be doing this shit," you muttered grumpily, which earned a chuckle from the blonde, as she stepped forward slightly, lessening the distance between the two of you.

"I, uh... kinda just wanted it to be us this time," Natalie muttered, her voice quiet. You lifted your eyes to connect them with her own, and while she stared at you through her lashes, fidgeting with the piece of paper in her hands, you felt your stomach flutter with an appreciative sensation. One that filled you with warmth and excitement, rather than the usual discomfort you had been feeling for the majority of the day. "He's... somewhere, doing... something." She brought her hand up and waved it carelessly, and although the statement was somewhat worrisome, you laughed.

It was a sound that brought a grin to Natalie's cheeks, when she lifted her chin to level her gaze with your own. You shook your head in amusement, appreciating the comical nature, whether or not she intended for it to be such, as you leaned down to blindly grab the barrel of the rifle. "That's romantic," you mused, the tone of your voice containing a gentleness to it that conveyed to the girl in front of you that you appreciated her intentions. You settled the gun in your arms after a moment, and she watched you sheepishly as you pushed away from the tree and moved in close to her, creating an irrevocable display of intimacy that caused her breath to catch in her throat, while her pupils flickered down to glance at your lips. "Guess we can call this a date."

Natalie felt her stomach flutter when you shifted slightly to traverse forward. Your lips almost touched her own in the movement, but you managed to keep the moment from happening when you passed her by and continued on with the intention of finding another area to hunt. She felt warmth ease its way up her neck and onto her cheeks as she followed you soon after, and while she watched you like a hawk – flustered and shocked by your boldness – you shared the same sentiment towards yourself. Your own skin was hot, and you only hoped that it didn't visibly mark you with the emotion of embarrassment and surprise towards your own actions, which portrayed confidence you didn't even realize you had.

Though luckily, she didn't see your self-assured attitude shatter into two.

————————————————————————

You could feel the grass brush against the bare skin of your arms while you laid on the forest floor. You cradled the rifle in your palms, the barrel of the weapon settled against the moss-covered log you used as a perch, while Natalie's sitting form lingered to your left. She watched you intently as you focused on an unsuspecting gopher. The little creature chewed on a piece of brush, and just as your finger eased down onto the trigger, you heard the vibration of a sharp click emit from the gun, signifying that no bullet lied in the chamber. Immediately, your head perked up with an expression of dumbfounded confusion lining your features, and you pulled your focus away from the iron sights, as you brought your hand down to tug the lever.

You were greeted with the vacant space that usually contained some sign of ammunition. "What the fuck..." your lips parted in shock, just as you heard Natalie giggle from beside you. Her laughter caused you to shift your body and look over at her amused state, and it didn't take long before she lifted her hand up to show you the bullet that was meant to be sitting in the chamber of the rifle. "You fuckin' cheater!" you quietly exclaimed, while an open-mouthed grin formed on your cheeks. You gawked at her, a feeling of amazement swirling within your chest towards her lighthearted joke. She bit her lip to try and suppress her own amusement towards your reaction, but it was clear as day that she thought what she had done was hilarious.

"All is fair in love and war," Natalie told you, though you could only furrow your eyebrows in response to her statement, as you pushed yourself up from your lain position and sat on the back of your heels. Your eyes flickered about her face, taking in her pallid features earnestly, but your own expression made her think you were offended by her actions, especially when you didn't put in the effort to respond. It only caused her comical nature to dwindle slightly, as she rolled the bullet into her palm and closed her fingers around it, creating a fist that protected the piece of ammunition. "I had to come up with a way to get you to lose," she explained sheepishly, after a moment, "I can't let you win."

"You can't let me win?" you repeated, your tone completely lighthearted and pertaining no malice. You shook your head dismissively, still amused by the plan she had gone with in order to prevent you from having a victory. "I see how it is," you uttered, though the statement was more so directed towards yourself, as you shifted closer to her and attempted to grab her wrist that was connected to the hand that held the bullet. However, just as your fingers brushed against her skin, she pulled her arm away from you, which forced your eyes to flicker away from her fist and back up to her, meeting her gaze. "You not gonna let me have the bullet back?" you questioned her.

Natalie shook her head silently, and her quiet response forced a subtle groan from you that sounded more like a low whine. The sound automatically amused the blonde in turn, and just as she let her guard down to bellow a laugh at your feigned defeat, you shot your hands forward and grabbed her wrist with one – keeping it from retreating, as your other squeezed between her curled fingers and snatched the bullet from her grasp. "Hey!" she called, but you had already shuffled away from her and clutched the singular piece of munition to your chest, staring at her as though you were some feral squirrel who had found their prized acorn.

"Don't 'hey' me," you retorted with a giggle, as Natalie pushed herself up onto her knees to crawl towards you. Her gaze had suddenly darkened, like she was on a mission to take back what she saw as hers, which forced a nervous laugh to slip from your lips, as your grip around the bullet tightened.

"Give me the bullet," she told you.

"Hell no." You shook your head in response, and Natalie rolled her eyes at your answer, her hands shifting to rest against the ground to keep herself steady. Her palms sat on either side of your body, which had lessened the proximity between the two of you, and you only realized such when she let out a breath that gently hit against the skin of your nose. All sense of amusement vanished from you at the recollection, and she shared a similar expression of surprise when her pupils fluttered down to take in the finer details of your face. She didn't push away from you, however. And you took her lack of repression as a sign to act on the impulse you felt nagging away at you.

Before you could truly dictate whether or not it was a bad idea, you raised your hand up to gently take hold of Natalie's jaw. Your fingers lightly squeezed her face, as you pulled her down to mold your lips against her own. Your eyes closed tightly as she moaned against your mouth, and you felt a surge of anxiety suddenly flourish through your stomach, which caused you to pull back from her, acknowledging the boundary you had trespassed without her consent. "I'm sorry, Nat–" Your attempt to apologize to her was swiftly cut off, when she lifted her palm up and wrapped it around your neck to tug you back into her.

Natalie initiated the kiss that time, and you felt the nervousness the moment brought you slowly fade away. You melted into her, internally appreciating the way the heel of her palm lightly pressed against the column of your throat, as her fingers kept a light grasp of your jawline. It forced your head to nudge into the bark of the tree that you leaned up against. But you didn't mind it, as she moved to straddle you without you fully realizing it. When the weight of her body rested on your lap, you moaned into her mouth without warning and moved your hands down to knead her hips while you tugged her closer, holding them with a firmness that she seemed to appreciate when she squeezed your skin.

The both of you got lost in the moment, and only when a distant crackle of wildlife sounded off in the distance, did you and Natalie part from each other. You let out a gasp, one that conveyed you had been in need of air for a good while, and she made a similar sound as she dropped her hand from your neck and planted it against your collarbone to brace herself, all while her other mindlessly moved up to rest against the tree beside your head. Your eyes fluttered open shortly after, blissed out and baffled from what had happened, and when your gaze eventually met with her own, her lips were parted, but a giddy grin was apparent while she stared down at you.

"You're… a lot bolder than I thought."

Her statement carried a tone of endearment to it. And all you could do in response was sheepishly shrug, as if you didn't know what had come over you. Truly, you didn't. Maybe it was the wilderness that encouraged you to live without worry and the fear of being dragged down by your natural shyness. Maybe it was simply her that forced another side of you to come out. One that was carefree and willing to do whatever without the concern of getting in trouble. Whatever it was, you liked it, and it was clear that she did too. Especially when her eyes roved over your form one last time, before she eventually pulled herself away from you.

It was an action that caused butterflies to flourish throughout your stomach, while she tugged you up to your feet and pulled you along, as though she hadn't just been on top of you and stolen your breath away.

Give me your thoughts/requests! Thanks for reading! <3

[yunalinwrites]

kids on christmas eve | gojo satoru x reader

available on wattpad

cover by me

summary: you learn about what happened with geto suguru and make him talk to you about it

about reader: gender neutral, relationship to gojo is unclear but they're close, on a first name basis + implied to be romantic

warnings: sad (if i did my job right), mild cursing, spoilers for jjk 0 + gojo's past/hidden inventory/star plasma vessel arc

notes: i know this is really out of season bc christmas has long passed but its for the plot lol as u prob know dec 24th is an important date

anyways i prob could've edited more but tbh i just wanted to post it already lmao hope its not cringe cuz i didn't shower to finish it (avg jjk degenerate) also im angry this was correctly formatted in google docs but tumblr ruined it and i cant b bothered to reread it under the new formatting so srry if theres smth wrong

"Gojo-sensei, that's not fair!"

Itadori had his bottom lip stuck out, his arms crossed tightly and his feet stomping against the snow.

"Yeah, come on!" Kugisaki agreed, mitten-clad hands full of the cold ammunition. "Turn it off, will you?"

You looked over to where Satoru stood. The snowballs that floated around him made it a little hard to see, but you could still tell his face was like it always was: smiling, the only deviation from its usual state being the pink on his pale nose. The rosy shade was just like his tongue when he stuck it out. 

"Come and make me," he taunted.

"Why, you little..." Kugisaki grumbled. "Okay, Itadori, Formation B!"

"Roger!" Itadori yelled back.

The pair performed a number of flashy poses--as if they were trying to imitate something they'd seen in a cartoon--and before you knew it, they were charging at Satoru from two sides, arms fully loaded and wound back with mounds of snow. But it seemed Satoru knew it before you, because he just tsked--didn't even bother catching the snowballs, just let them fall apart against his forcefield.

"Gojo-sensei!" the two groaned in unison.

"You're no fun!" Itadori complained.

"It's not supposed to be fun," Satoru countered with a playful shrug. "Just because it's a snow day doesn't mean you can stop training."

"But... but... But what about...!" Kugisaki sputtered, a vein popping out of her forehead as she struggled to come up with an argument. You could almost see the lightbulb pop up above her head as she pounded her fist in her palm. "But what about global warming?"

"Yeah!" Itadori followed, not thinking. "What about--Wait, what?" Scratching his head, he tilted his head at Kugisaki.

"It could totally be the last day it ever snows, you know," she claimed matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips. "And I would so hate you forever."

Itadori's mouth formed a silent "Oh!" as Kugisaki elaborated. Nodding his head in accord, he added on: "Yeah, Gojo-sensei. I don't think I could respect you after that."

Satoru put on a dramatic pout at that last sentence, but he soon returned to a smile and gave in with a sigh. "Alright, just this once."

You could see the two students loudly jumping for joy from behind him as he made his way towards where you were sitting. You smiled warmly at the sight.

"They really are something," you commented.

"Tell me about it," Fushiguro grumbled, leaning boredly against the wooden armrest of the park bench. He observed quietly as his friends built a snowman in the distance until Satoru's towering shadow prompted him to look up.

"Megumi!" Satoru called, his voice high-pitched and sing-song. "Go play with the others."

The boy scowled in response. "I'm too old for that stuff."

"You think you're old?" Satoru challenged. He pointed at his hair, at the white color it's always been. "What does that make me?" He hunched over and put his hand on his lower spine, feigning back pain. "C'mon, listen to your teacher. Let me sit next to Y/N."

Fushiguro squinted at him for a moment before finally getting up."Gross."

You chuckled, watching the boy begrudgingly drag his feet through the snow towards his classmates, but your laughter hitched as you felt something push against you. Turning to your right, you saw his lanky teacher. At first the sensation didn’t make sense, considering that there was a considerable amount of distance between the two of you, but you soon recalled his defense measures and the complaints they had garnered. 

Not noticing your discomfort, he stared up at the cloudy sky for a moment before turning to you. 

"Are you cold?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I should be asking you," you replied, referencing his lack of winter wear. "Why didn't you wear a coat?"

"Well, it would ruin my outfit, of course," he stated perkily. He wore a confident smirk on his face, but looking closer you could tell he was shivering beneath the thin fabric of his uniform.

Taking a deep breath in disapproval, you reached for your scarf. "Here," you offered, unraveling the knot you’d made earlier. But when you reached to wrap it around his neck, you felt the resistance of his invisible force.

His smile eased. "It's okay," he obliged, sniffling. "Thank you, though."

You hesitated before tying your scarf back around yourself, the garment's chunky knit giving it enough volume to nearly cover your mouth and even your ears, but you could still hear his teeth chatter. You searched your surroundings, looking past the dead snow-adorned trees and following the wet pavement until you spotted something in the distance: a cafe, just down the street from where you were.

"I'll get you some hot chocolate," you decided, standing up and brushing the snowflakes off your coat.

"You don't--"

"Shh!" You pointed your finger threateningly at him before turning around to begin your walk. "Somehow you've bent logic so far that you'll end up sick if you don't drink it. So just take this as an excuse to have more sweets, alright?"

You were just about to make your first step away from the bench, but then you felt a firm grip wrap around your arm. "Wait, Y/N--"

Before he could finish his protest, he was cut off by a particularly firmly packed snowball striking him right in the middle of his face, highlighting his nose with the sparkling white powder and dislodging his blindfold. With his cerulean eyes now exposed, he turned his head and saw the three of them: Itadori pointing and cackling on the left, Kugisaki doing the same keeled over in the middle, and even Fushiguro, on the right, had the ends of his mouth perked up as he shook his head hopelessly.

You saw Satoru grin at the picture, but it was contradictory to what you were feeling. He had let go of your arm, but not by relaxing his hand--you felt him, as if brick by brick, build that invisible wall right back up between you, seemingly stronger than ever. You could still feel it, even as he walked away towards the trio, tying his blindfold back on. Sighing, you sat back down and watched him make snow angels with the others, his head blending right in with the scene as he drowned himself in the blinding whiteness. With his blindfold now fully on, you could only imagine what it was like when he smiled with his eyes.

***

"I can't feel my toes."

Twirling her brown hair between her fingers, Shoko spun around in her chair to face the doorway.

She darted her eyes between you and Satoru for a second before a calm, amused expression painted her face. Despite knowing it was his voice she heard--though it was more nasal than usual--she directed her question at you: "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I told him to wear thicker socks!" you exclaimed, your arms crossed in frustration. "But look! Show her."

Rolling his eyes behind his blindfold, Satoru pulled the fabric on his thighs, lifting the hems of his pants so that they revealed his ankles. They were barely covered by the cheap red and green striped polyester; it was the kind of thing you'd spot on sale in packs at the checkouts during Christmas season.

“So I forgot… Big deal!”

“I could fill a library with all the things you forgot,’” you complained. “I mean, what are you, a fish?”

Unfazed, Shoko chuckled. "You're telling me the strongest--the one powerful enough to rival the King of Curses--was defeated by a case of frostbite?"

The both of you responded simultaneously: "Exactly." "No!"

"I was not defeated," he insisted, earning a glare from you. "Barely a scratch. She's just being dramatic."

"I am not--"

"Is there a reason you can't heal yourself?" Shoko interrupted, now turned to Satoru.

He pointed his thumb in your direction accusingly. "She wanted to come here, not me."

"Wait," you interjected. "You can heal yourself?”

“Of course, duh.”

“Since when?"

"High school," he answered dismissively, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "See, look!"

He pointed down to his shoes--through the leather of his dress boots, you could see the movement of his wriggling toes. 

You held your hands up to hide his feet from your sight. “Ew, stop that--" you grimaced. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged, smirking smugly. "My talent should go without saying."

You sighed. “Your talent to bewilder me?”

"You know it,” he asserted proudly. "But anyways–Can I go now?"

Before you could even answer, you could sense him already moving in your peripheral vision.

"Satoru, wait--"

"If you don't believe I'm fine, I'll show you my toes," he threatened, halfway out the door.

"Satoru--!"

"Go on, catch me if you can!"

You listened, trying to grab onto him but, once again, his Infinity blocked you, making you stumble into Shoko's arms as it pushed you backwards. By the time you regained your balance and rushed into the hallway, his long strides and newly healed feet had already carried him beyond your sight.

You sighed and re-entered the room, brushing yourself off. "Do you have anything for a cold?" you asked.

"I should," Shoko replied, opening up one of her medicine cabinets. "Why, are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, no, it's for him," you explained. "He's had a runny nose all week. I told him not to go out in the snow with the kids, but... You know how he is."

She hummed in acknowledgement with an understated smile, picking out a bottle of Acetaminophen capsules. Making her way over to you, she held up the container.

"I have these," she told you, but she didn't hand them to you; she just kept holding it up as she continued, "but, in my professional opinion, I don't think he has a cold."

"What do you mean?" you asked, your brow raised.

"Y/N, do you know what tomorrow is?"

"It's... the 24th."

"Mhm."

"So... Christmas Eve?"

She looked down at the floor, placing the bottle on a nearby counter and leaning back against it, getting comfortable. She stayed quiet for a moment, biting her lip in deep thought as she continued to stare at the floor with her arms crossed. But then, finally, she sighed, and reached into her coat pocket for a cigarette.

"Would you like one?" she offered, flicking the lighter at the end of the stick

"Um... No thank you..."

"Have a seat." She gestured to the metal seat against the wall.

Still thoroughly confused, you did as you were told. You felt as if your parents were about to have a stern "talk" with you--as if you had broken a vase or--arguably worse--it was time for you to understand the birds and the bees. That thought, along with the cold steel beneath you, sent chills up your body.

In an attempt to quell your anxiety, you beat her to the punch and spoke up: "You went to high school together, didn't you?"

She blew out a lengthy tangle of smoke strings. "That's right," she answered.

You shifted in your seat. "Has he always been... like this?"

"No,” she chuckled, bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "He used to wear glasses."

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned forward in shock. "Seriously?"

She reached into her coat pocket again, this time producing a small print of a photo. 

You took the glossy sheet from her hands and studied it, your mouth agape. Sure enough, there he was, on Shoko's right, smiling widely with his hair down and a pair of round sunglasses, both of them holding up peace signs. But, while Shoko's arm was clearly holding up the camera for the selfie, one of Satoru’s arms appeared to be wrapped around the shoulders of a black-haired man you didn't recognize.

Your brows furrowed at the sight. "Who's the one on the left?"

The scent of the nicotine got stronger as she took her time to ponder her answer, staring blankly into the back of the photo beneath your thumbs.

"That's Geto Suguru,” she finally told you.

You scanned his portrait meticulously. The man wore a grumpy expression with dark bags under his eyes and, contrary to the cheerful pose of the other two, he was flipping off the camera.

“Was he an upperclassman?” you asked.

She shook her head. “He was our classmate.” She gestured towards the photo with her cigarette. “We were all second-years there.”

“No way…” Holding the photo closer, you could have sworn you saw the outline of ear gauges behind Shoko’s head. “He looks so much older.”

You returned the photo to her and she slipped it back in her pocket, not taking even a glance at it as she did. She just spoke plainly: “He’s Satoru’s best friend.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really? I wonder why I haven’t heard of him, then."

She took another puff, turning her face away from you as she let it out. “Tomorrow is his death anniversary.”

Your eyes widened before falling to the floor. “Oh… I see…”

You fell into a solemn trance, not knowing what you should or shouldn’t say and, consequently, opting to stay quiet out of respect. But, suddenly, you were interrupted by the sound of light laughter. 

“Even if he were still with us, I doubt you would’ve been able to tell. They bickered so much you’d think they hated each other.”

She walked around to the other side of the counter, leaning forward on it as she rested her hand on her palm.

“Who could get to class faster… Who could shoot more hoops in a minute… Who could make a bigger crater in the courtyard…”

You tried to imagine the pair wreaking havoc on an older version of the Jujutsu Tech Campus, but while it was easy to fit Satoru’s cheeky grin into all of these scenarios, it was hard to see such a mature-looking person as Geto doing these childish things.

“Ah, but you know, Y/N,” she started, looking up at you with a smile. “I think you would have been able to tell that Suguru was actually younger.”

“What?” you gasped, surprised at both the fact that he was younger and that Shoko thought that would be clear to you. “There’s no way…”

“Well, for starters, Suguru is shorter, if you put them side-by-side,” she argued. “And… Hm…”

She stopped to contemplate how to put together her next sentence–or if she should even do so at all. But in the end, she brought her cigarette back to her lips and exhaled: “I think you would have agreed with me that he’s the more immature one.”

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed in disbelief. “That's impossible… Satoru could be ten-feet tall and not a single thing on this planet could make him seem more mature than another person.”

She chuckled, though you could sense a sadness behind the sound, and you realized that your comment might’ve come off as insensitive. Clearing your throat, awkwardly, you granted her the floor: “What makes you say that?”

She took another inhale and sighed out a long cloud. Looking out the window of her office, she saw the faint glow of the multicolored lights that decorated it on the outside. She took in the sight for a quiet moment before sinking into her swivel chair, puffing once more.

“I still don’t know much about his childhood,” she began. “I never asked, and I never got to meet his parents. But I can tell you for certain that Suguru was the sort of kid who threw a tantrum when he didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas.

“I’m sure he had wishlists a mile long, but he wouldn’t be the kind to write even a single letter about it to Santa. Of course, that’d make it difficult for his family, and maybe they could've tried harder to figure it out–but he just wouldn't understand why what he wanted wasn't obvious to everyone.

“I can imagine one day someone told him the truth about Santa, and he was probably absolutely devastated. But, to him, it wouldn't be about the presents. It would be about the people around him: his mom, his dad, his teachers, his neighbors, everyone–the people who had been deceiving him his whole life.

“I don't think he ever forgave anyone for that, all the way up until he found himself as a seventeen-year-old at Jujutsu High.”

The air became thick–suffocatingly so–and your spine no longer fit right against the back of the bench.

“What exactly… did he do?” 

She rolled her chair towards her desk and put out her cigarette, pushing and twisting it into the ashtray by her desk calendar.

“In a single night, he killed one hundred and twelve civilians–non-sorcerers–including his parents. He wanted to create a world where only sorcerers exist.”

“O-oh my God…” Your hand rose up to cover your gaping mouth. “Wh.. Why?!”

“By killing non-sorcerers, you stop curses from the source.”

“But you can't just–” You cut yourself off, thousands of words rushing and racing to your mouth. “Didn't anyone try to stop him?”

“Maybe Satoru could've. If Suguru decided to tell him, that is.”

Your face was wound up in concern. “That's horrible…”

“I know, right?” she casually agreed.  “To want to be understood, but never willing to understand… Isn't it childish?” She even laughed. “Though, I suppose he was just a kid.”

“Just a kid?!” You stuck your head out in disbelief. “No, no… Satoru is childish. But that–that’s… inhumane!

You pointed to the door. “Satoru was a kid.”

You pointed to her. “You were a kid.”

Lowering your hand, you scrunched the hem of your shirt. “I might not have known you then, but I know you never would have done that.”

“To be fair, I'm not the strongest,” she defended plainly. “I'm just a doctor.”

The crease between your eyebrows deepened as you threw your arms up. “Okay–then Satoru! Satoru would never do something like that! And he… he's still a kid!”

“Satoru killed his best friend–his one and only.” She clasped her hands together on her desk. “A kid wouldn't do that, would they?”

You froze at the edge of your seat, blinking rapidly as you pieced together the puzzle.

“He… killed…?” you trailed off.

Shoko stared grimly at her hands as she tightened her grip on herself. “A kid wouldn’t have understood.”

You bore your eyes into her, waiting, begging for her to continue, to elaborate, to make it make sense, but she just stayed quiet, kept to herself.

You directed your eyes to the freshly polished floor tiles. As you stared into the blurry reflection of yourself, you tried imagining it again: Satoru, tall and white haired, and this kid grumpy little kid he called Suguru, wreaking havoc on the old campus of Jujutsu High: walking to class together, dribbling a basketball between each other, meeting up in the courtyard with one another.

 “That…” you began hesitantly. “That still doesn't excuse what happened.”

Shoko looked up at you, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and though she wasn’t as contented as she had been before your conversation, her expression was no longer grave; she seemed satisfied. Slowly, she put her palms on her desk and pushed herself up from her seat.

“To answer your question from earlier–properly,” she started, making her way over to you. “I think that Satoru has always been that way–the way Gojo Satoru has to be.”

“But if there were ever a time that he weren’t,” she interjected, sliding her hand into her coat pocket.

“It would have been thanks to him.”

***

Your footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, stopping every once in a while to slide open one of the stiff doors only to struggle to shut it a moment later. You increased the reach of your steps, and the thump of your shoes against the wood planks competed with the hooting owl perched on the snow covered roof.

Suddenly, you heard a new noise: a honking, like that of a goose, coming from the end of the hall and slightly to the left. Now picking up to a jog, you made a beeline for the door and jerked it open.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-awaited Christmas present!” he exclaimed. “Looks like Santa’s early this year.”

He rested against the corner of one of the student’s desks, already facing you with his hands in his pocket. From behind him, you could just barely see the white crumpled-up balls of tissue that scattered the surface.

“I guess some people do gifts on Christmas Eve though, right?” he considered, putting a finger to his chin. “But, ah… choosing gifts is so hard. I need all the time I can get.”

He didn’t acknowledge your entrance at all; his Six Eyes had seen it coming miles away, allowing him enough time to get into position to pick up wherever you’d last left off. You didn’t acknowledge him either, keeping a stone face as you stepped into the room.

“What’s with the face, hm? Did you not like your presents?”

“Satoru,” you said sternly.

“Did you ask Santa for anything this year?” he went on, continuing to pay you no mind.

You sighed. You couldn’t help but let the ends of your lips pick up, but you kept your eyes down at the dirtied pattern of the floor.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” you admit.

“What? Why not?” he questioned astonishedly, forming a pout. “Does that mean you didn’t get me a present?”

You shook your head lightly, making your way over to him. “I’ve always thought it was sort of weird. To celebrate the birth of a martyr.”

“Hm,” he sounded. “Well that’s no fun.”

Planting his hands on the surface, he hoisted himself up onto his desk. “Santa probably wouldn’t give anything other than coal to a non-believer,” he noted. “But since I’m so nice, I’ll get you something. Just tell me–what is it that you want for Christmas?”

His smile stayed in place as you darted your pupils around his visage, your own face beginning to fall. You took slow steps towards the desk next to him, getting as close as you could before you felt his Infinity push back

“Satoru, can you do me a favor?” you requested gently.

“Depends on what the favor is,” he chirped back.

Reaching your hand out, you traced your forefinger on the edge of the invisible barrier before applying pressure into it, testing the shield’s strength. You pushed with all your might, but all it did was whiten your finger tip and make your knuckles concave.

You retracted, looking back into his eyes. “Can you take it down?”

You could see the movement of his eyebrows raising beneath his blindfold. “You tryna kill me?”

Again, you shook your head, still solemn. 

He crossed his arms and squinted at you, biting his cheek. Leaning back, he put his weight onto his hands behind him, loosely grabbing the edge of his desk, his expression becoming relaxed. “Alright. Here you go.”

You took another small step into the newfound space until you were only inches apart. Slowly, you extended both your hands towards his face, but then suddenly reeled them back into a hesitant fist in disbelief, the lack of resistance uncomfortably foreign.

You inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled the air shakily through your mouth, trying hard to slow the rapid beating in your chest. Ignoring the smirk on his face, you tried to reach out to him, one final time.

Letting your arms wrap around his head, your hands searched his silky hair for the knot that held up his eye covering. When you finally felt the bump, you took your time digging your nails into where the fabric held onto itself, carefully pulling apart its loops.

As the blindfold fell to his neckline, his signature grin stayed plastered on his face, but just about every other feature of his seemed to change completely when the white wisps came down to frame them. His azure eyes, for example, glimmered under the faint moonlight coming through the window, but not in the way that they usually did. They were shining like lacquer, but it was as if, from underneath that, their batteries had been taken out. In their dullness, you could see the reflection of the long white lashes resting on the eyelids above, forming sharp, unnatural shapes as they clumped together unevenly. Pink waterlines painted the bottom of his irises, and a faint red was seemingly airbrushed around the surrounding puffy skin.

You trailed your hands down the back of his head until they cupped his jawline, holding his face as you explored its entirety. Moving from his eyes to his flushed, leaking nose, his smirk grew when your gaze landed on his lips.

“Are you sure you want to use your gift on this?” he teased. “Kind of a waste, in my opinion–you could’ve just found a mistletoe.”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to stop smiling.”

For a moment, he listened to you: his mouth fell open, but then it fell back into its previous position as he flashed his teeth at you. “My bad. I didn’t mean to blind you.”

“Please?”

He kept still while your thumb gently stroked his powder-smooth cheek. He jolted slightly as his lungs forced out a nervous chuckle, but he trailed off as your touch continued on him. Realizing your relentlessness, he sucked in his lips and clamped them together with his teeth as if he was trying to stop any further laughter.

He stayed like this for a moment, waiting for you to let go, but your tender movements showed no signs of stopping–you only slowed down when your eyes flitted up to meet his. He tried his best to return your stare, but eventually, he accepted defeat in the contest. And so, little by little, he let his lips roll out and the muscles to dispose into a resting state.

His voice became low, a near whisper. “Is… everything okay?”

Finally removing your hands from him, you nodded. Returning them to yourself, you glided one into the back pocket of your pants.

Taking a step back, you held up the sheet of glossy photo paper side-by-side with his face. You could name a number of differences: the neckline of the teacher’s uniform was looser and higher, his bangs now were longer and a bit thicker, and, of course, he wasn’t wearing glasses, and he wasn’t smiling. But, somehow, now more than ever, you could see the resemblance.

“What have you got there?”

Moving towards him again, you handed him the photo. It felt strange, witnessing the rare sight of his pupils’ every rapid move. And in addition to that, ever so slightly, you could see his swollen under eyes rise as the softest of smiles pushed up his cheeks. It was nothing like the sickeningly-sweet beamings you were used to seeing from him, though; it was subdued, raw like the cacao in dark chocolate, undiluted by sugar or milk.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, incredulous.

“Like you said, Santa came early,” you joked mildly.

“No, really,” he persisted, his tone reaching a bass you’d never heard from him before. “Where did you get this?”

You sat yourself on the desk next to him. “Shoko,” you admitted.

“What did she tell you?”

Your shrug was subtle.  “As much as she could.”

He continued to scrutinize the photo in his hands, his brows drawing together.

“Satoru,” you proceeded, hushed. “If it’s okay… I’d like it if you told me about it.”

He lowered the photo so that it no longer obstructed his view of you, but he didn’t take advantage of the space he gave himself; he kept staring at the photo as he spoke: “There’s not much to tell about. I was the strongest then and I’m the strongest now.”

You rested your hands on your lap and exhaled deeply. “That’s not what I mean,” you contested. 

It was as if he couldn’t hear you, continuing to stare vapidly into the photo as if somehow your sentence didn’t make it to his ears. But that was impossible; you’d said what you said, and the room was dead silent.

“I… I want you to tell me about him,” you clarified.

He shifted in his seat, finally looking away from the photo and up at you. “You mean… Geto Suguru?” he asked, as if there were any other ‘him’ in that photo. 

“Well… he’s the worst of all curse users,” he offered. He then shoved the photo back in your direction, a sudden grin straining itself on his face. “But it’s okay. He’s gone now.”

Ignoring his move, you asked, “Is it really okay?”

“I made sure of it,” he affirmed, impatiently nudging the paper at you.

He resumed his usual playful lilt. “Are you doubting me?” he tested.

“I don’t doubt you for a second–not in that sense. You’ve always been strong,” you reassured him. “But that’s exactly why I doubt you know how to be weak.”

He scoffed. “You think Gojo Satoru would know how to be weak?”

“No, I don’t. That’s my whole point,” you upheld firmly.

He folded his arms across his chest, his mocking tone sharpening: “Why would anyone want to know how to be weak?”

“Because even Gojo Satoru needs to realize he can’t just smile and laugh all the time,” you challenged, feeling heat rise up your neck.

His eyes darkened, seemingly into a navy blue, and his inflection further condescended: “There are a lot of things you don’t understand.”

“Satoru, how on earth am I supposed to understand?!” 

As your tone cut through, just as abruptly you pushed the desk behind you and dropped heavily to your feet.

“You’re right, I don't understand you,” you confessed frustratedly, pointing to yourself. “I don’t understand you at all. Because how could I possibly understand you? I can’t see your eyes, I can’t even get near you, and I’ve never seen you not smile.”

Your voice made gaps as your vocal cords threatened sobs. “And sure, I call you by your first name, and I laugh and I smile at all your dumb jokes and… and the idiotic games you play…

“But it’s–it’s… scary, Satoru. Creepy, even. How you know just about everything there is to know about me and yet… It's like I don’t even know who you are. You’re just a toy in the corner, watching everyone come in and out of the room, but I can never make you say or be or feel anything.”

“Feelings are what made him into who he was,” he stated coldly, his eyes fixed on the grimy floor. “It’s important for sorcerers to have a hold on their emotions.”

“So you know what happens, then,” you argued firmly, your shoes coming into his view as you stepped closer. “You know what it’s like to be shut out from them.”

You pushed his chin up, forcing him to witness the way you were holding on desperately to the tears that bordered your lower waterline.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Do you always get Sprite?” he’d asked, looking down as his friend retrieved his drink from the bottom of the machine.

“I mean… yeah, I guess,” Suguru replied plainly. “Why?”

A pit formed in his stomach as he heard the crack of the can opening.

“Shit. I’ve been getting you Coke this whole time,” he’d mumbled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Suguru shrugged, beginning to head in the direction of the classroom. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Dude, are you good?”

Suguru jolted awake, sitting up from the plush back of the couch and nearly spilling the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

“Do you wanna watch something else?” he’d suggested, but Suguru just shook his head.

“I thought you liked Digimon,” Suguru objected.

“Well yeah, but…”

The only lighting came from the flashing screen, but it was enough for him to see his friend yawn, making his eyes water, dark bags underneath them.

“You can turn it up if you want,” was all Suguru had to say, but even after doing what Suguru said, he couldn’t focus on his favorite TV show.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything,” he started, reaching into his bag. “But here.”

“What’s this?” Suguru questioned.

“Your Christmas present, duh.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Suguru pointed out. “And I told you–”

“I know! But just open it.”

He watched as Suguru lifted the lid of the small gray box, revealing a small pair of white gauges.

“I didn’t really know what size to get… But I think they’d look cool on you.”

“Thanks, Satoru.”

He lit up, thinking that he’d finally done something right by his friend, but the way that Suguru looked up at him, the way Suguru smiled insincerely, told him he should’ve waited for Christmas Day.

The tears were warm as they rolled down his face, past his trembling lip and blooming into the blindfold that rested loosely around his neck.

“I just don't understand why he didn’t talk to me.”

You pulled him into a hug, carding your fingers in his hair as you rested his head on your shoulder.

“He thought I hated him,” he told you shakily, finding himself clutching onto your shirt. “I didn’t see him for ten years and… and that whole time he thought I hated him.”

He inhaled a sharp sniffle. “I… I don’t hate him,” he whimpered, his pitch jumping and his body beginning to tremble. “I don’t hate him, Y/N, I don’t, I don’t, I never, ever did.”

“I know,” you whispered, stroking his hair, holding him tighter as he jerked with sobs.

He placed his head on your shoulder, staring at the blindfold that had unraveled itself and fallen between you. “I hate myself.”

You pulled back, cupping his jawline and holding it in front of you.

“Don’t say that…”

“But he was my best friend, Y/N,” he insisted, gripping desperately onto your shoulders. “I saw him every single day… every single day, all of that was running through his head and I… I didn’t even know… I just watched and… and I made him think I hated him. I was supposed to be his best friend.”

“You did everything you could, Satoru.”

“It was all my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did it happen?” he whined. “It had to have been for a reason–It can't just hurt and be for no reason. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s not,” you told him, shaking your head gently and looking deeply into his eyes. “It’s not fair at all.”

Indicating the breaking of a dam, a deafening, siren-like wail pierced the air. His face was red and scrunched up, his nose was dripping with snot, and his hands were coming up to swipe desperately at the tears on his cheeks.

You pulled him close to you again as he kept hiccuping and sniffling into the crook of your neck. His loud weeping wet your shirt with both the fluids from his eyes and nose, but you didn’t care; you just rubbed his back, caressing him tenderly.

His voice was suddenly clearer as he took deep breaths to try and recuperate himself: “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, stiffening your hold on him.

“I just… I don’t know. I hate crying. I’m not a kid anymore, you know?” he tried laughing.

“Satoru,” you whispered delicately, turning your head so your words rested right by his ear. “You were never a kid.”

Gently, you pressed his head into you, stopping him from moving his lips in any way. “I want you to be one right now.”

You let him stay in your arms for a while until his tears subsided and his breathing steadied. You had moved to the floor at some point, allowing him to comfortably lean on you as you embraced him, his previous quivering replaced now by the calm rhythm of his rising and falling figure.

He hadn’t talked in a while, so you assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then, among his mellow breathing, a mumble came up right by your ear:

“Thank you,” he’d said.

Hugging him tighter, you patted him on the back softly. “Of course.”

As one hand traveled to intertwine its fingers in his hair, you reached for your phone with your other one.

You pressed the power button on its side, and flinched backward, squinting at the brightness your phone screen emitted. Despite your sudden movement, Satoru didn’t show any sort of reaction; he’d fallen asleep, for sure now.

You continued to comb through his white locks, a little more consciously now, as you made note of the time and date your phone’s clock displayed, changing right before your eyes:

December 25th, 00:00

You smiled, dragging your coat up to cover the both of you as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

***

might do a toji x megumi's teacher reader if u wanna follow

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week's writer spotlight feature is: @maryofdoom! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

@mojowitchcraft recommends the following works by ArgentumCivitas:

Tessellation

Every Time: A Steddie Drabble Collection

Corroded Coffin - Live On Tour - One Night Only

He Carries Me Quietly

Higher Education

Mary is such a talented writer, I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read by her. She’s an incredible story teller and very generous with brainstorming offering advice. - @mojowitchcraft

Below the cut, @maryofdoom answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

To quote Calvin, from Calvin and Hobbes, “I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul.” But for real, though, it's because my bestie and writing partner called me up on Discord one night and said, “Mary, you need to watch the first episode of Season 4 of Stranger Things. Right now. I mean it. I think the show is in love with Eddie.” (…Some, shall we say, substances may have been involved.) However, I stick with it because I love both the boys as characters. I think they're interesting. They have a lot of interesting aspects about them to explore, both singly and together, and I think we're all enjoying that.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Mutual pining! Good God, give me so much pining that I think I’m in the forest. Give me so much pining that I need to use an oil-based paint on them. Give me so much pining that I’ll saw those two boys into planks and repanel my house. 

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

By far, it's when one of them has a crush on the other and is pissed off about it. There’s so much potential for sparky, interesting dialogue with other characters (and with each other) when the boys find themselves in that situation. And then it leads to interesting moments when they finally turn the corner and realize they’re not actually mad at the other one, they’re in love. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There are so, so many that I love. But instead of giving you one of the big ones, let me share this gem: Love My Way, by dreamspaces. It’s very short, at only 1,346 words, but sometimes a bite is as good as a meal. 

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

It might be interesting to do something with “and they were roommates.” I haven’t truly messed around in that space, yet. I also haven’t done a proper enemies-to-lovers, either, mostly because I can’t stand to set up a proper enemy relationship at the beginning…but I am chewing on an idea at the moment that might necessitate that sort of opening relationship between them.

What is your writing process like?

 It tends to follow a very specific order of operations:

Get an idea from somewhere. Possible avenues for ideas include conversations with friends, news stories overheard from NPR, something that hits while I’m listening to music, posts on Reddit, anything that turns up from general blorbo rotation, the works.

Write down the idea in my notes app of choice (I use Evernote)

Begin adding more thoughts and concepts to the idea (sometimes even snips of dialogue, if they hit interesting)

Once the idea has reached a critical enough mass, transfer it to Google Docs and turn it into a draft (if it’s a one-shot idea) or an outline (if it’s a longfic idea)

FOR A ONE-SHOT: begin writing the draft

FOR A LONGFIC: begin writing the outline, according to the outlining method detailed in Tom Lennon and Ben Garant’s Writing Movies for Fun and Profit (this book is half how to make it as a screenwriter in Hollywood and half solid craft advice on how to write a screenplay, and though I don’t want to write screenplays and though I was very skeptical until I tried it out, this is the only method that has worked to get me to finish any actual novel-length works)

FOR A ONE-SHOT: when the draft is done, put it down for as long as I can and then come back to it and revise it, heavily, to make it better

FOR A LONGFIC: once the outline’s done, actually write the thing 

FOR A LONGFIC: once the thing’s written, put it down for as long as I can and then come back to it and revise it, basically rewriting it completely

FOR A LONGFIC: do the same thing again, and then again, pausing in between each iteration for as long as I can

FOR BOTH A ONE-SHOT AND A LONGFIC: once it’s to the point where I don’t hate it, get ahold of my bestie and writing partner and have her read it and crit it and tear it apart

(cry a little because her crit is probably right)

Implement the good changes and ignore the bad ones - sometimes we have a (good-natured) fight about which ones are which

Send it to my other writing friends for their thoughts and comments and incorporate those, in a similar fashion

Revise, again

Once it’s as done as it’s going to be, make a posting schedule (if it’s a longfic)

Get it out there, according to the posting schedule

Begin working on the next thing

Do you have any writing quirks?

I mean, I can sit here and say “Oh no, I definitely don’t,” but I’m sure that I do. I am sure I have a distinctive writing style, just as everyone else does, but I would have to defer to anyone who’s read multiple works I’ve written to pull out any specific “quirks.”I will note that I really try hard to get the characters’ voices down, in their dialogue. I don’t know that I always succeed, but I try.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, a schedule, ABSOLUTELY. More power to those of you who post when you’re done writing, but I am the kind of person who needs to have everything DONE and ready to go before I put even a HINT of it up online. You can see this from my writing process. It doesn’t lend itself nicely to just throwing stuff out there as a work in progress. 

Which fic are you most proud of?

Oooh, good question. I would have to say it’s a tie between the next two fics on this list. Tessellation, because I worked really hard on it (and because I figured out work skins), and He Carries Me Quietly, because I think it’s beautiful. The way it ends still gets me, even now. Not just because of the action that happens, but because of the words that I chose. I read them and I’m like, “...I wrote that? Damn, girl.”

How did you get the idea for Tessellation?

I mention it a little in its ending note, but I got the idea for Tessellation from a couple of places, one of which was the Steddie fandom itself. I love the idea of every single one of these 25,000+ stories about Steve and Eddie all being true all at once. Even the story of Stranger Things itself, as we see it on our TV screens, is just one possible version of the story that’s happening somewhere. (I truly believe that. I didn’t become an extremely lapsed Catholic for nothing. HECK THE RULES.)

When writing Tessellation, what was something you didn’t expect?

It was surprisingly easy to make connections between the six stories. It wasn’t like I was hunting for places to jam them in—they ended up falling into place very naturally. And I think my favorite one of these is when Steve, in the space story, is describing the spaceship that he pilots as “Rusalka class, she’s a good swimmer,” to Eddie, who presumably understands what this means in the context of the sci-fi world in which they live. 

What inspired He Carries Me Quietly?

It started as something else entirely—a whole established-relationship fic with the kids coming over to Steve and Eddie’s (either house or apartment) to play D&D, with an arc about a blind Max being included as kind of an oracle or super-NPC through Eddie passing her index cards with Braille on them, so she could be part of the game when and if she wanted to be. The whole thing was supposed to be told in flashbacks. I had a whole scene where Steve was figuring out how to bake cookies for everyone with whatever meager ingredients he had on hand. …Then it took a hard left into religious trauma, through some meandering means.  I guess it would be reasonable to say the inspiration, at that point, was seeing a tweet on then-Twitter with some speculation about how Eddie had come to live with Wayne. If it was the common (and unfortunate) queer-kid arc of being disowned by one’s parents. And then I thought, “Let’s go ahead and put Steve through that too, but let’s do it several years after it happens to Eddie, so that Steve has someone to guide him through the whole process.”

What was your favorite part to write from He Carries Me Quietly?

I think it was probably the opening, because of the rhythm of the sentences and how the sounds fit together with one another. I mean, if you choose to check it out, try reading the first few paragraphs out loud. It’s kind of what I think of when people talk about how writing has a cadence, or a musicality to it.  That, and the ending. The ending, starting with, “There’s one more thing that Steve wants to know,” was one of those things that just fell perfectly into place. I can see it so clearly in my mind: the two of them having a conversation, late at night in bed together, after a traumatic day. 

How do/did you feel writing Higher Education?

I love this goofy little story! It was part of a Discord server gift exchange in 2022 and my recipient said “College AUs are my jam,” so this is where my mind went. I wanted to consider a world where Eddie was the frat boy, instead of Steve. But if that were the case, the fraternity would have to be a pretty non-traditional one, wouldn’t it? The fictional Lambda House is based heavily on the fraternity house where I used to hang out in college. (It was at an engineering school and was populated entirely by nerds.)

What was the most difficult part of writing Higher Education?

The actual writing itself, honestly. Winter 2022 was a really difficult time for me, personally, and though I signed up for the fic exchange with all optimism and good wishes, it was a struggle to get everything done in time. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

One that really stands out to me is from Wrong Number, which was a oneshot I wrote based on a short conversation with some Discord friends. Picture it: Eddie and Jonathan and Argyle are all hanging out in the basement, and they’re all extremely high. Argyle, in his own way, can sense that something is wrong with Eddie. In order to get him to confess to whatever’s on his mind, they reference the pact they made that “anything said in the basement stays in the basement. It’s the law of the basement.” That just hits me as something so quintessentially Argyle. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Oh my, yes! I have two longfics in the pipeline that I hope to be sharing with everyone soon (or, well, as soon as I can get them through my Process). The Music of the Spheres is a Regency AU with a smoldering slow burn and an eventual happily-ever-after, while Home for the Holidays is a genre mashup: Steve’s in a Hallmark Christmas romance and Eddie’s in a psychological thriller. I am also rotating a couple more ideas in my brain that could potentially be longer works as well, but we’ll see how those go.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I think the esteemed and prolific two-time-Hugo-Award-nominee Dr. Chuck Tingle puts it very nicely when he says: “CREATE. BUILD. EXPRESS. CONQUER THE LYING VOICE THAT SAYS YOUR TECHNICAL PERFECTION IS BETTER THAN TRUTH OF THE MOMENT. FILL THE VOID WITH ART and do not fear because weve got your back buckaroo. we are ALL creators in our own way so LETS HECKIN CREATE.” Let’s heckin’ create, buckaroos. I’ll see you out there in the word mines.

Thank you to our author, @maryofdoom, and our nominator, @mojowitchcraft! See more of @maryofdoom's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[spice-honey]

The Fanfic Editing Process

Hello everyone! Today I've decided to share a few tips on editing your chapters, for anyone who is new to writing or would like to improve their writing. Editing is a skill in itself. For me, it takes longer than writing the actual damn chapter. I think good editing takes stories to the next level and it's worth taking a moment to do it, instead of just eagerly hit the 'Post' button

First, what is editing? You assess the text for grammar, spelling, sentence and detail clarity along with plot development. Editing is often rewriting, moving paragraphs around, switching scene orders, adding or deleting characters, and changing POVs (if applicable). It requires a lot of "rounds" before it's ready. Each step below is a round in itself. Remember: you cannot edit a blank page. If you hate your writing, remind yourself this is your first draft - you will edit it later to make it better or different. But you have to write it first.

I use google docs. You can easily share it with your betas/friends, and keep track of suggestions and modifications they make. They can leave comments on specific passages and words, to which you can also reply. Google docs also has a chat function to edit and discuss live.

Google docs has spelling and grammar check (it's under Tools) that will scan the document below where your cursor is. So if you just want to spell check past chapter 7, go to chapter 7 and use the tool. It will skip anything before it. If you want to do the entire document, start up top.

Crtl + F and look for the specific words that are commonly overused such as that, really, very, just, then, literally, thing and dialogue tags. You don't have to write them out entirely, but if you used 'that' 7 times in a paragraph, you might want to rework some sentences to 5 take out. Readers get tired of repetitive words. You also don't have to banish every single dialogue tag, but when it's a conversation between 2 people you should use them to indicate tone or action. 'Said' is not necessarily dead, but you can omit it 95% of the time

Avoid long sentences. Run-on sentences are okay if grammatically correct, but stick to one idea per sentence otherwise it can be tiring to read.

Adverbs ending in -ly. 'She runs quickly' can be 'she sprints'. 'He walks quietly' can be ' He creeps'. Choose descriptive verbs if you can.

Pay attention to verb tenses. If you are writing in the present tense make sure you don't slip into past tense when it is not appropriate and vice versa.

In your own notes write scene summaries explaining to yourself why this scene is necessary (I use bullet points in the comments). What information or situation is being presented in each passage that is important to the plot in the long run. It helps you to keep tabs on your outline (if you have one). It's okay to just have scenes that don't actually add anything to the story other than the joy of reading them whatever they may be. But if you are struggling with your plot, make sure your story doesn't have a lot of those.

Italics. Depends on your formatting, of course, but if it is to bring emphasis on a single word, my personal rule is to do it once per page. When I copy and paste my chapters into Ffnet/Ao3 it comes without any formatting (bold, italic) so I have to add them back in manually on my final read-through. Surprisingly, I end up adding a lot fewer italics in the final edit than in the original script

The Final Read-through: it is done in your browser, at the document editor of ffnet/ao3. You will catch a lot more errors/weird sentences there despite having it read 100 times on google docs. Your brain just gets used to - visually - to the text and it will skip words as you re-read without you noticing. Having a different font and background will make your brain read it as if it's the first time. I tried tricking myself on google docs by changing font and colour but I didn't find it super effective (it may work for you, I don't know). Grammarly is also good to use here. I disable it on google docs because it slows down my browser. I like it mostly for punctuation.

Read it out loud. Yes, you'll have to disable the cringe factor but you will catch so many clunky sentences and missing words. Make sure narration sounds like narration and dialogue sounds like dialogue. I usually do Step 10 and 11 at the same time.

Any questions, my Asks are open! And if you have tips you'd like to share I'd LOVE to hear it.

Happy editing!

[fandomficsnstuff]

Redemption For All - 7

(Warnings: none except some mentions of torture I think)

Notes: I do NOT speak spanish but I think it is a very beautiful language and sadly all I can say in spanish is ‘I can’t speak spanish’, so I used google translate, sorry. Some words are in Italic, which is the translated words, and others are just straight up spanish.

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

Leah was writing in a small journal that Arthur had gotten her when her name was called, her eyes widening at a man who appeared to have been in one hell of a bar fight, covered in bruises and cuts and she rushed over. “Doc, this is Josiah Trelawny. Josiah, this here’s Doctor Leah Riverra, she’s a real good doctor, best in all the country” Arthur introduced with the added compliment and flair and Leah helped him to a seat, smiling at him “I don’t know about the whole country but I’ve certainly seen my fair share of things. Hello Mr. Trelawny. What’s bothering you today?” she asked jokingly, looking over her shoulder at Arthur who already went to get the bag, the man, Josiah, chuckling lightly but it was cut off with a wince “the back is playing up a bit, I’m afraid” he stated jokingly in a very cordial way, Leah smirking as she examined his face “well, your sense of humor is certainly in good health. Can I ask what happened to you?”

“I’m afraid I ran into some rather-... unsavory fellers…”

“They beat you up?”

“It’s not as bad as it look-” he winced and flinched when Leah touched the right side of his jaw, Leah humming quietly, opening her bag to look through it. “Answer me honestly; on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most painful thing you’ve ever endured, the most horrible, excruciating thing you could ever possibly feel, where would you say your pain is at in? And remember, don’t downplay it, I can’t help you if you downplay it” she reminded him and he hesitated before sighing “a six… maybe a seven” he admitted and she nodded, looking at Arthur “get Swanson” she ordered quietly, before turning back to Josiah “do you have any other injuries? Could you perhaps describe what happened?”

“It’s really not for a lady to hea-”

“Mr. Trelawny, I’m a female Puerto Rican doctor who spent half of her life in Texas after my mom died when I was twelve and I have a black father. I think I can handle hearing about getting a beating” she stated with amusement as Swanson arrived, “administer a low dose, please. Just enough to take the edge of the pain but no more than that” she ordered, looking over her shoulder when she heard footsteps approaching. “He was tortured” Charles said and she hesitated, studying Charles before looking back at Josiah “Mr. Trelawny, would you mind if I examined you more thoroughly? We can use my tent for privacy” she stated and he hesitated, making her smile a little “trust me, there is nothing that I haven’t already seen. A guy once came into my ER with a snake dangling from a rat that dangled from him where it had bitten him. The rat died while biting him, and it couldn’t let go because of it, it’s jaws had locked in place. The snake wasn’t dead, by the way, and the rat it hung onto was hanging from a very… sensitive area for any man” she admitted, Josiah nodding and sighed “I suppose it’s… better to be on the safe side?” he asked nervously and Leah nodded with a smile “it most certainly is. Do you consent to the pain medication?” she asked, Josiah nodded and she smiled “I need verbal consent…”

“Yes, I consent, my dear” he stated with a charming smile and she nodded at Swanson, waiting until the morphine was administered before helping him as he struggled to stand up, accepting her help as she led him to her tent, Charles bringing her bag along, walking into the tent with her to place it on the grass. “Do you mind if Charles stays? Or would you rather that he left?”

“That depends on the examination” he joked awkwardly and Leah chuckled “I won’t do anything without your consent, and if something makes you uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me. Where else does it hurt?”

“My chest… my feet” he admitted and she nodded “what would you rather we take first?”

“Feet.”

“Alright. Would you prefer to take off your own shoes?” she asked and he nodded, bending down, wincing a little in pain but he got them off and his socks, Leah kneeling down to inspect them, frowning “there’s several burn marks and a few cuts… did they burn you?”

“I’m afraid so… not a pretty sight, is it?” he joked and she smiled up at him “I’ve sadly seen this before, on Sean… but hey, at least it’s not the snake guy” she joked before looking at Charles “in my bag there’s some disinfect- yup, that one” she stated with a smirk, taking the bottle from Charles when he offered it to her, followed by some gauze, Leah gently wetting the gauze with the disinfectant before looking up at Josiah “this might hurt…”

“I can handle it” he stated and she nodded, gently dapping the gauze over the faint burn marks and cuts, cringing every time he hissed in pain. “Almost done, Mr. Trelawny” she stated softly, taking some bandages from Charles, wrapping his feet gently as Josiah unbuttoned his shirt awkwardly, letting Leah examine his torso “they gave you quite the round” she muttered, gently pressing over areas, making a note of where it hurt, and how much. “What’s the verdict, will I live?”

“I’m afraid so, Mr. Trelawny” she joked back with a smirk “nothing’s broken, I can’t be sure without an X-Ray but as far as I can tell, you’re mildly okay.”

“‘Mildly’? Tell me, will I ever be able to play the violin again?”

“Could you play it before?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Then probably not” she joked back with him, standing up to examine his face as he buttoned up his shirt and covered his chest again. “Your jaw isn’t broken, or locked, you’ll have a black eye tomorrow, though… your jaw is going to be quite sore so I suggest resting it as much as possible, that means soft meals and reduced talking. Your feet are bruised and are going to need time to heal, try not to walk too much on them, you can take the bandages off as you sleep, the fresh air would do them good and they’d heal faster” she informed and he nodded “I think perhaps I’ll-... lay low here, for a while” he muttered and she nodded with a smile “that sounds like a good idea. I suggest you take my bed-”

“No, I couldn’t-”

“I insist. You wouldn’t refuse a lady insisting, would you?” she asked with a smirk, Josiah sighing heavily “I suppose not…”

“Good. I’ll just sleep somewhere else” she stated with a shrug, looking over her shoulder at Charles “maybe I’ll snatch Arthur’s bed” she joked before looking back at Josiah. “The morphine should have kicked in a little while ago, you might be a bit drowsy. You can go on ahead and sleep now if you feel like it, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t” she stated, grabbing her bag before walking out with Charles, closing the flap to her tent, walking over to Arthur as Charles parted to do his own things. “Well, what’s the verdict?”

“He’ll live, though he’ll never be able to play the violin.”

“He could do that before?”

“No” she admitted with amusement, Arthur looking at her before chuckling, the laugh coming from deep within him and it made her blush a little at how much she liked it. “You know, Arthur… I never thanked you for saving my life. I thanked Charles back in the mountains but I don’t think I ever truly thanked you…”

“There’s no need at all. Seeing you ‘round here, helpin’ out as best you can, lifting everyone’s spirit, it’s enough for me” he stated and she smiled but gestured towards his tent in a head nod “I still got you something” she stated, already walking off, stopping to turn and look over her shoulder at him as he stayed put “c’mon” she called and he sprung into action, following her to his tent and she placed her bag on his bed, opening it and looking through it. Arthur was unable to not look at-... well-... at her… as she bent over, right in front of him, with her backside facing him as she dug through that bag of hers. “I knew I left it in here… hold on” she muttered to herself, digging through it before getting out a light brown, leatherbound journal, turning around and presenting it to him “here. I uh, I overheard something about your old journal getting filled up, and that it was damaged from some fire you barely saved it from. So I figured to could use a new one” she stated with a shrug as Arthur accepted the gift, staring at it, opening it, combing through the pages, the tip of his thumb feeling the pages as they fell into place and he closed it again, nodding with a smirk “thanks, I was thinking ‘bout getting a new one” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and she smiled “well, now you don’t have to” she stated with a smile, Arthur looking down at the journal as he examined it, nodding with a smile “guess not… good quality, too” he mumbled to himself, looking up from it, about to ask her where she got it from when his lips was met with hers. Both of them were frozen in place in shock, Leah quickly redrawing, cheeks blazing and red “I-I’m sorry I-... I-I was-... o-on your cheek a-a-and then you turned your head and-... sorry” she mumbled, swallowing the lump in her throat “sorry” she mumbled again, barely able to grab her bag before rushing off, leaving a shell-shocked Arthur to stand there, staring at the empty spot where she had been.

------------------------------------------

“Kill me, Abigail…”

“Why?”

“Because I kissed Arthur-”

“You did WHAT??”

“It was an accident!”

“How do you kiss someone by accident?” she asked through a laugh, Leah glaring at her, hard “I was going to kiss his cheek and he turned his head at the wrong time-”

“Or the right time.”

“And it just-... happened!” she explained in a panic, ignoring Abigail’s little ‘right time’ comment, Abigail chuckling lightly at her panic “whatchu so worried ‘bout? That he didn’t like it? Honey, he’s been eyein’ you since they brought you in way back when you was passed out all them months ago! And he’s been eyein’ you especially after Shaun’s party!” Abigail stated with utter amusement and Leah’s eyes were wide and her cheeks were dark with a blush as she gently slapped Abigail’s arm “don’t say that!”

“Why? It’s true-”

“It is not!”

“It is! What’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid-”

“Mhm” she hummed with a knowing smirk, Leah sighing heavily “it’s just-... I-... nevermind” she muttered with a sigh, Abigail chuckling “no, what is it?”

“I can’t-”

“Why?”

“Because-... this is 1899! I just-... can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because it’s 1899!”

“So?”

“So! It’s not something that-.... I just-...”

“What?” Abigail asked much more softly this time, Leah looking up at her, studying her before gently shaking her head “I can’t… I don’t know why I even wanted to say anything to begin with… just forget it?”

“I can’t when it’s obviously somethin’ that’s bugging you” she stated sweetly and Leah sighed softly, looking around as though she was about to spill a secret “it’s-... complicated and-... I-I get it if you-... A-And I understand-”

“Don’t think, thinkin’ just makes it harder. Just spit it out.”

“I’m gay. At least-... I thought I was. But I’m not? I think I’m not? But I am?” she babbled, Abigail looking her up and down before chuckling lightly “I wouldn’t exactly call you gay” she stated with amusement, Leah frowning at her with utter confusion “I-... what?”

“You just-... don’t seem like you’d fit into gay, you know? It ain’t meant as an insult! I ain’t fitting into anything gay either, it just doesn’t suit me-”

“You’re talking about clothes??”

“Yeah, what’re you talking about?”

“Girls” Leah stated plainly, Abigail frowning “I ain’t rightly sure what’s going on” she admitted, Leah narrowing her eyes at her before sighing, groaning to herself as she nodded a little “right, the word originally once referred to-... right” she muttered to herself before looking back at Abigail “I’ve had a-... relationship… with a woman… in fact it’s the only relationship I’ve had” she muttered, Abigail’s eyes widening a little, her eyebrows high on her forehead “oh” she muttered, looking away before frowning, looking back at her again with confusion “well… Why would that matter with Arthur?”

“I just-... i-it-... wasn’t - isn’t - accepted by a lot of people back then - I mean - now” she stuttered, Abigail shrugging “maybe, but it don’t matter to me, and I can promise you that it don’t matter to Arthur one bit.”

“It’s just-... I thought-... I thought I only liked women… I’ve never-....”

“You ain’t never…?”

“No…”

“Not even with your-... uh… wife?”

“Oh, no, we weren’t married! We uh, we broke up after two years together- or, I broke up with her…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What happened?”

“Well, apparently she was screwing my best friend and her boyfriend together at the same time, so” Leah stated bluntly, Abigail’s eyes wide in shock at her words “oh, well good thing she ain’t here then, I’d have half a mind to show her just how much I’d appreciate someone doin’ that to my friend” she stated half-jokingly yet completely serious at the same time, Leah smiling, chuckling briefly “I’d love to see that.”

“What happened to her?”

“Well, my best friend and her boyfriend broke up after I caught all three of them together, I broke up with my girlfriend whom I had bought a ring for to propose. My then ex-girlfriend and my ex-best friend got together, they lasted about a year before getting drunk, getting married and then divorcing five days later when they sobered up and I think she actually got knocked up by someone” Leah recapped and Abigail chuckled lightly “I ain’t rightly sure where you found those kind of people.”

“Med school. Except my then girlfriend dropped out” Leah stated with a shrug and Abigail grinned, shaking her head with amusement “well, maybe there’s a reason for everythin’? If that’s the case, I’m happy it led us to meet you. You’ve been a real blessin’ for us-”

“As Micah constantly and creepily wants to show me” she muttered with disgust, Abigail sighing heavily “he ain’t a favorite of mine either” she admitted bitterly, Leah smirking at her “I think I know who’s your favorite of the boys” she teased, Abigail frowning at her before her cheeks turned red “don’t matter-”

“Of course it does! You’re his mom!” Leah stated with a grin, Abigail staring at her before bursting out into laughter “I thought you meant John!”

“I know you did” Leah stated with amusement as Abigail laughed. “So, whose your favorite?”

“Well…”

“Can I guess?”

“I don’t think you’ll get it right, but sure, give it a shot.”

“Jack?”

“Damn! How’d you know??” Leah exclaimed, the two women laughing and chuckling together. “He’s such a cute little thing! God, I want one one day” she stated half-jokingly, Abigail chuckling lightly “well, Arthur’s certainly good with him, I’m sure he’d be even better if it was-”

“Don’t put ideas into my head!” Leah laughed, Abigail laughing even louder, the two of them seemingly unable to not laugh, their faces almost red as tears ran down their cheeks, their stomachs hurting from laughter as they continued and continued to laugh.

---------------------------------------------------------

“All things considered, you’re doing quite well, Mr. Trelawny” Leah stated with a smile as she examined the bruises on his face, giving him a smirk “you’ll most definitely still be able to catch the ladies with a charming smile” she added jokingly, Josiah chuckling briefly “I shall do my best, my dear” he stated and she smiled at him before zipping her bag back up, just as someone approached and she looked over her shoulder at Javier as he reached them, Josiah getting up to do something else, Javier taking his place in front of her on the barrels Josiah had been on. “So, how is he?”

“I believe he’ll still be able to con the devil with a charming smile” she replied jokingly, Javier nodding with an amused smirk “that definitely sounds like Trelawny. Hey, I was thinking, what’s between you and Arthur?” his question made her freeze and she narrowed her eyes at him “¿Qué?” she asked casually, feigning cluelessness, making Javier scoff “don’t play that, Hermosa. Come on, I’ve seen how he looks at you, how you look at him-”

“Cállate!” she hissed, Javier chuckling “no, I’m not gonna shut up. Listen, all I’m saying is that it’s obvious that there’s something there. Wanna know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“Act on it. We only have one life, Amiga! Make the best of it, there’s no point in holding back” he stated with a grin and his grin turned into a smirk when he saw how Leah hesitated, looking around hesitantly before sighing “I-... can’t…”

“Why not? Give me one good reason.”

“I’ve never-... you know… I-I mean I have b-but it wasn’t-...”

“You’re a virg-”

“Could you scream that a little louder, please? I don’t think everyone heard you” she hissed, Javier smirking at her “you’re a virgin?”

“I mean-... both yes and no… I-I’m not-... I-I mean I have but nothing’s been-... ‘up there’ s-so I-... you know what? No! No, I’m not discussing this with you-!”

“Not even if I could help you get with Arthur?” he asked with a smirk, watching how any protest, or insult, died on her tongue before they could make it past her lips, her heart racing a little and she looked away, cheeks turning beet red. “How?” she muttered, it was barely audible, her jaw clenched, but Javier heard it. Of course he fucking heard it. “It’s easy, Hermosa. All you gotta do is look the part.”

“‘Look the part’?? You make it sound like I’m going to rob a bank with you guys and play the decoy! ‘Look the part’... What does that even mean??”

“It means; go into Rhodes and get something. A pretty dress, a skirt, whatever makes you feel good and beautiful. I’ll arrange the rest with Charles-”

“H-Hold on, roll that back a little… one: I don’t have money. Two: what am I meant to get?! I have no fashion sense! ‘A pretty dress’, how am I meant to know what that means?-”

“It means that if you feel good in it, if you like it, then it’s the right one. If you don’t feel pretty in it, if it doesn’t make you feel like the beautiful woman that you are, then you shouldn’t buy it. And don’t worry about the money, eh? I got you covered. Come see me before you go into town” he stated with a smirk, Leah sighing heavily as he got up to walk away “I’ll-... take Abigail with me, or something… IF I’m even doing this - we! - if WE are even doing this!” she whispered harshly, Javier chuckling lightly as he nodded “acuerdo” he tipped his bowler hat and Leah scoffed, gently shaking her head.

“‘Deal’... he’s making it sound like it’s a drug deal or something” she muttered to herself before sighing heavily, running a hand over her face in frustration. She looked over her shoulder at Abigail as she sat with Jack, watching him play with a fond smile on her lips, it was obvious that she was beyond proud of her son, who was only four years old. She pushed him to continue learning reading, which he found boring, of course, wanting nothing more than to be a gunslinger and Leah could swear that every time he proclaimed that, she ages at least five years. She was sure her hair was already turning gray. Leah hesitated, looking over at Javier who smirked at her before sighing heavily, getting up and walking over to Jack and Abigail, smiling at Jack. “Hey buddy, could I talk with your mom for a second? I’m sure if you ask really nicely that Uncle Hosea could read you a story” she said with a soft smile, Jack looking up at his mom before nodding and running off, Leah sighing heavily, worry evident on her face as she watched Jack run off to Hosea and Abigail stood up. “You’re lookin’ mighty pale, are you alright? It ain’t the whole ‘1899’ thing again, is it? Is it the heat?-”

“I’m-... I’m fine, I just-... need a favor” she admitted sheepishly, Abigail frowning a little and Leah sighed “I, uh… I-I-... maybe-... go talk with Javier, please, before I choke on my own tongue” Leah muttered with burning cheeks, sitting down on the box Abigail had been sitting on, her face in her hands as Abigail did as Leah asked, talking with Javier in hushed voices and when she returned, she had the biggest smile on her lips that Leah had ever seen, making Leah groan and hide her face in her hands. “‘Bout time you did somethin’ ‘bout it-”

“Shh!” Leah hissed, cheeks still burning red as she tried to hide away behind her hands. “Listen, tomorrow both Javier, Charles and Arthur are gonna go out, a stagecoach’s meant to come through from some bank, headin’ for Saint Denis. The boys’re gonna get it, it’s supposed to be filled with money and we’ll have a little party when they get back, that gives us time to find you somethin’-”

“What if the job goes wrong??”

“Trust me, one way or another, Javier is gonna make that party happen’” Abigail said through giggles, Leah rubbing her temples with her entire face burning hotter than the sun. At least that’s how it felt.

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter have always hated each other but when Y/N discovers an element that can make people fall in love, her whole relationship flips upside down. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: I’m still working on the last part to thin ice but I’ve had the idea of a love potion series for Peter and since we’re in quarantine, I said fuck it. I’m such a sucker for an enemy to love type thing so this is great cause technically it’s a slowburn but not at the same time! Also Y/N is ADOPTED cause duh of course she is. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Mild language, mean peter 

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue 

You grew up with always hearing the saying that the heart wants what it wants. When your heart longed for a family, you found yourself among the Avengers who helped raised you into the woman you were meant to be. Deep down, you loved them more than you could possibly imagine and your heart felt full knowing they would always have your back. 

You weren’t sure how much room was left in your heart but you knew a person who you definitely didn’t make space for. Peter Parker. 

Your dad recruited him into the Avengers years ago but ever since the two of you met, you had always butted heads. 

There was a whole list of reasons why you hated him; the smirk he always had whenever he would see you and the way he said your name as if it was like venom in his mouth. 

There were times where Peter would leave smoke bombs in your room after you had just cleaned it or trap you in your room with his webbing when you were late for the movies. You always managed to get him back whether it was you throwing out all of his clothes into the courtyard when he needed to get ready for school or you hacking into his phone whenever he had an important call. 

Most of the time, it didn’t matter. You both knew you were smarter and wittier than he would ever be but the one thing he always had above you was that he had powers. It didn’t matter that you had grown up with superheroes or that your dad was the Tony Stark, Peter would always be an Avenger. 

Everyone in the complex knew the feud the two of you had but that didn’t stop them from stirring the pot now and then to witness it. 

You sat down on the couch as you continued to work on your paper quietly since you needed a change of scenery.  Bucky watched over your shoulder as he made breakfast in the kitchen. 

“ Homework?” 

“ Mhm. It’s about how the U.S could have avoided World War II if our president wasn’t so dumb,” You said as you kept your eyes glued to your screen,” I’ll let you read it once I finish it.”

Bucky smiled and turned his attention back to the stove,” Sounds good kiddo.” 

You had about thirty minutes before your paper was due and you felt like you were on a roll. You had enough time to knock out another page but as soon as you shifted to the next paragraph, loud music started to play from one of the rooms close by. 

You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Peter. You turned around and looked sympathetically at Bucky for help but he shook his head when his eyes met yours. 

“ Don’t look at me, I’m making breakfast.”

You looked down at your laptop as if you were considering to ignore the music before getting up from the couch anyway and stomped over to Peter’s room. You could feel the vibration of the music underneath your feet as you knocked on the door violently,” Shut up Parker!” 

Not even a second later, the door swung open and revealed Peter who was only wearing sweatpants and a small smirk. 

“ What did you say? I can’t hear you,” Peter shouted over the music as he tried to close the door on you. 

You pushed the door open and slid through, heading straight for his phone that was attached to the room’s speaker. You grabbed it before he could reach you and you swiped your thumb over his phone screen to turn the music off,” You’re making my brain hurt and I can’t even hear myself think!”

“ Wait,” Peter gasped as he acted surprised,” you have a brain? I’m so sorry I didn’t even realize!” 

Peter tried to reach for his phone but you yanked it back and held your hand up,” You can get this back after I finish my paper. I’m serious Parker if I fail because of your dumbass music I’ll kill you.” 

You walked out of his room and back into the living room where Peter trailed behind you. At this point, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha were all in the kitchen as they silently watched the madness that unfolded right in front of them. 

You plopped back down on the couch but before you could place your laptop back into your lap, Peter grabbed it away from you and closed the screen harshly. 

“ Peter! I didn’t save it!”

“ Relax, you have google docs,” Peter said as he reached out his hand,” now give me my phone.”

You stood up as you tried to grab your laptop back but Peter casually held it over his head. 

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself even further so you didn’t even attempt to leap up and grab it out of his sneaky hands,“ Ugh, fine. Will you at least stop playing your shitty music so loudly?” 

Peter tilted his head to the side for a moment,” Do you really want this back?”

You knew Peter was playing a trick on you but you were so frustrated, you took the bait anyway. 

“ Yes, I would like my laptop back,” You sighed as Peter smiled cheekily back at you. 

Peter nodded and shrugged,” Okay, now ask me nicely. Didn’t your dad teach you manners?” 

You fumed silently as you tried to keep your temper down,” May I please have my laptop back...you little shit!” 

Peter clicked his tongue and shook his head,” That’s kinda mean Y/N but for you I’ll give it back...if you beg for it.” 

Your face grew hot and before you knew it, you lunged at Peter. Both you and Peter hit the floor as the two of you wrestled to try and grab your belongings back. Once you grabbed your laptop, you scrambled back up before glaring back at Peter. 

“ You idiot! You could’ve broken my-” As you opened your laptop, you saw your screen completely cracked. If you squinted, you could barely make out any words that were on your page. 

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach as you could feel how close you were to crying. You had been working on this paper for days and you knew you still had so much to work on. 

Peter watched your face as he visibly gulped,” Y/N-”

“ Forget it!” You snapped back as you gather the rest of your notes and pushed past him,” fucking asshole.” 

You pressed your laptop and your notebooks against your chest as you figured you could find an empty computer up in the labs. Peter hesitantly watched as you walked away and into one of the glass elevators.

“ I’m sorry!” He shouted as the elevator started to go up. 

You looked down at Peter and made eye contact with him before sticking up your middle finger. Peter shook his head as stuffed his hands into his pocket and mumbled underneath his breath. 

“You’re terrible with women,” Sam sighed as Peter turned his attention towards the kitchen. 

Peter pointed back at himself and towards the elevator,” Me? She’s being the difficult one!” 

Natasha shook her head as she grabbed her coffee mug and walked towards Peter,” Take my advice kid, if you like a girl, I would refrain from...whatever you just did. Ever heard of flowers or a card?” 

“ I don’t like her, how many times do I have to tell you guys!” Peter huffed as his face grew bright red. 

“ Even if you don’t like her, you need to at least apologize, it’s the right thing to do,” Natasha said as she patted his shoulder and walked off, leaving Peter to feel guilty. 

Once you got to the labs, you found a vacant computer in the hallway and started to work on your paper. At this point, you were just bullshitting it and after a few minutes of angrily typing, you decided you would just submit it since you were exhausted. 

As you wheeled your chair back away from the desk, you spotted Banner in one of the main labs by himself. His body hunched over the desk as he looked directly into a microscope.

Even from your position, you could see that whatever he was looking at was glowing bright pink. You rested your knee against the desk as you leaned back in your chair, attempting to try and get a better look. 

You had never seen anything in science ever give off such a vibrant color before and you were intrigued, to say the least. As cool as it was living in the Avengers complex with superheroes, you were more fascinated on what went down in the labs than on the battlefield. 

As you stretched back, you felt the wheel underneath your chair slip from underneath you and a second later, you fell to the ground with a hard thud. You clasped your hand over your mouth as you listened to hear footsteps coming closer.

The door to the lab chamber opened up to a whirring sound as cold air whipped past you, you had been caught.

“ Y/N? What are you doing down there?” Banner asked as he helped you up to your feet. 

Without missing a beat you looked over his shoulder and pointed to the glowing object,” What is that? Can I look at it with you?” 

Banner followed your line of sight to where his microscope was positioned and then back at you. 

“ Um, I’m not sure your dad would want you-”

“ Please? Just for a second, I promise,” You whined while Banner sighed as if he knew he was defeated. 

Out of all the Avengers, Banner was always the one to go easy on you and you knew he would fall for your puppy dog eyes. 

“ Fine, but just for a second but don’t touch anything,” You followed Banner into the lab as the cold air sterilized you and your clothes,” put these on.”

You put on your lab coat and gloves as you followed closely behind him. He motioned his hand to the microscope as you gladly accepted the offer. 

You peeked into the microscope as you examined the slide. It was hard to see anything besides the pink glow but after looking at it closer, you could make out small, powdery rocks as small as a grain of rice. 

“Okay well, this definitely isn’t a bunch of pop rocks so what is it?” You asked, turning back to Banner,” this has ‘space stuff’ written all over it.”

Banner nodded as you stepped away from the microscope to rest your eyes,“It’s a form of moondust that works as a highly addictive psychostimulant that directly affects the hypothalamus. Thor brought it back for the lab so I could try and make a type of vaccine since it has really bad side effects.” 

“ What do you mean it has bad side effects- is that why my eyes hurt?” You asked nervously as Banner calmed you down.

“ Relax, it’s relatively safe as long as it doesn’t come in contact with water. You know what oxytocin is right? It’s called the love hormone and when this powder makes contact with human skin-”

“ Oxytocin-So, like a love potion?” You questioned as Banner stopped for a moment before nodding,” You have to let me help you, please let me help you. School is so easy right now, I need something challenging so my brain cells don’t deteriorate!” 

You could tell that Banner was hesitant about allowing a seventeen-year-old girl to help him find a cure for a space element that was highly addictive but in the name of science, he budged.

                                                              ----

“ I think we should call it a day. We’ve been working on this for hours and we still haven’t found anything that stands out,” Dr. Banner said as he stepped away from the lab table and stretched his neck out,” I heard your dad is making dinner for everyone tonight and I want front row seats to that trainwreck.”

You checked the time and saw that it had been hours since you’ve eaten or even saw the light of day. As hungry and tired as you were, you knew that if it was a big dinner, Peter would be joining in. 

For the first time in hours, you remembered everything that had gone down earlier in the day and it just made you mad all over again. 

You backed up from the microscope and nodded as you felt how sore your neck was starting to feel,” I’ll probably head down later. I just want to be sure we’re not missing anything.” 

“ I wanted to thank you again for your help with all of this. I know it’s not your department but I’m glad to see you in the lab,” Banner said as some of the other scientists in the lab started to leave,” it’s really great to see young people interested in science.” 

“ Well, it helps when you have a great teacher,” You smiled as Banner grinned back. 

Once he left the lab, you turned your attention back to what you and Banner called “ Lovedust”. As you looked at the powder, you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. 

You weren’t sure if it was from the powder or how long you’ve been working on a serum but looking at the Lovedust made you feel helpless.

 You had been in relationships in the past that were never the healthiest but if you had known back then that an actual love potion existed, maybe it could’ve saved you a few heartaches.  

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear the sterilization door open as Peter stepped in quietly, watching you from afar. 

He crept up behind you to where he was a mere centimeters away from his chin touching your shoulder. 

“ Whatcha got there?” Peter asked loudly as you jumped up from your seat, shrieking. 

You hit the table with your knee hard as you whipped around, completely flustered, to see Peter leaning against one of the lab tables laughing. 

“ Very funny idiot!” You said as you smacked the back of his head,” you can’t sneak up on someone like that- especially in a laboratory!” 

Peter pushed your hand away as his gaze fell on the Lovedust that was now sprawled over the table. 

He pointed over to the powder as he kneeled in front of it,” Woah, what is this stuff?”

Your eyes grew wide as you grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him away from the table. If Peter were to come into contact with it, who knows what trouble he could stir up. 

“ Promise me that you will not touch it! I need a sweepy thingy!” You shouted as you scrambled around the room to find a dustpan. 

Peter only rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair so he could get a better look at the glowing dust. Peter whistled low as you finally found the dustpan that was underneath one of the lab tables. 

“ Were you hiding up here this whole time staring at this thing?” Peter asked as you stopped in front of the table and shooed him to the side,” are you going to tell me what this is or am I going to have to touch it to get your attention?” 

You set a deadly gaze to Peter before turning your attention to the mess he had caused. Banner said it was relatively harmless as long as it didn’t touch water and as you looked around the room, you noticed there wasn’t a sink or beaker close by. 

You sighed as you turned to Peter,” It’s moondust they found on Thor’s planet. Just don’t spit on it or lick it cause if it comes in contact with water, it gets super reactive.” 

Peter looked up curiously at you as he raised his eyebrow,” How reactive?”

You mimicked an explosion noise with your mouth as your hands spread out into jazz fingers which made Peter laugh. 

“ Okay, got it, no water,” Peter said before he backed up from the table and started looking around the lab. Peter watched as you tried your best to sweep up the remaining dust carefully as he leaned against one of the bunsen burners. 

“ Why are you here? Cause if it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it,” You said finally as Peter straightened up his back,” I’m tired of your lame excuses.”

While his whole plan was to come up and apologize, he felt all that motivation and guilt fade away since you had said it in a snarky tone.  

“ Why would I apologize?” Peter responded as you shook your head, laughing dryly,” for the laptop? You were the one who lunged at me!”

It all made sense to you, Peter would never own up to his mistakes and now, his mistake had cost you another laptop. 

You kept your focus to the table but you clicked your tongue,” You know what Peter, I’m not saying you have to treat me like the Queen of England, but I’ll be damned if you don’t respect me. I think you need to remember who you’re talking to, I’m a Stark.” 

Peter moved away from the table and stood next to you with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“ You think you can intimidate me? Y/N, we’re not friends, I don’t owe you anything.”

You turned to face Peter as you felt pure rage growing inside your chest,” You’re right, you don’t owe me anything. But that suit you run around in and that room you sleep in every night is thanks to my dad. Before my dad showed up you were nothing. Humble yourself Spiderboy.”

Peter’s face looked visibly hurt for a second before glaring right back at you,” I need to humble myself? All you ever do is go around saying how smart you are just because your dad is Tony Stark. You’re almost eighteen and yeah you got a full ride to Columbia and you’re valedictorian but you wasted your whole high school years on never accomplishing anything! You never went to a single party, you never passed your driver’s test, and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.” 

“ Newsflash Parker, I’ve had boyfriends before but unlike you, my relationships don’t dictate whether or not I’ve accomplished something!” You snapped back as you took a step towards Peter,” and at least my boyfriend’s dads don’t end up in jail.” 

Peter didn’t even hesitate as the words slipped right out of his mouth,” And at least my girlfriends actually loved me back.”

Immediately, nausea swirled in your empty stomach as your mind started to feel swarmed with old memories of every relationship you had. The room felt still and you thought that if you let a tear out, it would make noise once it hit the floor. 

Peter immediately regretted his words once again as he watched your stern face fall into a somber one. Before he could reach out to you, he felt the hair on his arm raise up at the same time. 

“ Wow, low blow Parker-” You turned around and when you looked at the table behind you, half of your notes and papers were lit up in flames. 

Before you could even let out a gasp, the sprinkler system came on as water sprayed every inch of the room, including the Lovedust. 

“ No no no!” You yelled as you scrambled over to the other side of the room to shut the water off,” Peter help me!” 

Peter carefully tried to run through the slippery floor without falling but once he saw you slip on the way to the button, he almost sprinted towards you. When he felt his foot slip from underneath him, he jolted his arm out to catch himself on the table. 

He could feel the Lovedust crunch underneath his palm as his blood ran cold. You had never told him what the powder was except that it would explode so Peter desperately tried rubbing the powder onto his pants. 

You picked yourself up from the ground and used all of your weight to press the button and stopped the sprinkler system. Within seconds, the sprinkler system halted as you looked back at Peter, who was completely drenched in water. 

“ Nice going- hey, are you okay?” You asked as you moved your wet hair out of your face before stopping in the middle of your step. 

Peter’s left hand and his whole left side of his jeans were covered in glowing pink dust that was turning redder by the second. 

“ I need to sit down,” Peter said softly before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his feet crumbled underneath him. 

Once Peter hit the ground, you screamed for help as you slid across the wet floor, kneeling close to Peter. 

You did your best to avoid touching his whole left side as you lifted the upper half of his body and propped his head up against the leg of the table. You cupped your hands around his face as you moved a few strands of wet hair so you could see better. 

“ Peter? Damn it, Peter!” You shook him harshly as you felt your heart sink to your stomach,” Wake up! Wake up!” 

Your hands trembled as you checked his head to make sure he didn’t bust it open. Every ounce of angry you held towards him quickly faded once you thought that Peter was seriously injured. 

After shaking him for a moment, Peter’s eyes slowly opened. The first thing he could feel was warmth spreading across his whole body like nothing he had ever felt before. His heart permanently felt like it was skipping a beat every few seconds and his chest felt extremely tight. 

His breathing was uneven as if he had just ran a marathon but once his vision started coming back, every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs. As you stared back at Peter with a worried expression, his heart sped up even faster as he found himself getting lost into the deep color of your eyes. 

“ Peter? Can you hear me?” You asked as you snapped your fingers close to his ear but Peter barely flinched. 

He nodded, hanging onto every word as if it was words on a page and he felt immediate comfort in hearing your sweet voice. He managed to pull his gaze away from your eyes but next, he focused on your lips and made details of the way you said his name. 

“ Oh thank god, don’t worry, help is coming. Just stay awake for me okay?” You sighed as you nervously pushed another strand of wet hair behind your ear, which made Peter sigh deeply. 

He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you and tuck a strand of hair away from your face but he was too distracted by how you looked in front of him. Even though you were soaking wet from head to toe, Peter couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

“ I’m so glad you’re okay,” You admitted as you smiled before pulling your hands away from his face. 

Everything besides his heartbeat seemed to stop once you smiled and that’s when Peter deep down knew something was wrong but he didn’t care. The way your lips lifted upward into a smile filled with complete relief made his heart beat even faster. 

Peter swallowed hard before looking up at you as his face flushed a deep shade of red,” I don’t know what’s happening to me...but I’ve never loved you more than right now. I can’t help it, I love you, I’ve always loved you Y/N.” 

Your smile dropped as you looked down at Peter’s whole left side. The Lovedust was completely gone and you knew in that moment that his skin must’ve absorbed the remainder of it.

In a matter of seconds, a boy who wanted nothing to do with you and claimed no boy had ever loved you was now professing his undying love for you. 

“ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

[keewriting]

Cove x MC - One Shot #3 (request)

[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]

SPOILER WARNING: Don't read if you haven't finished Step 3!

Your insides bubbled with excitement as the car neared the cabin nestled deeply in the forest. The fresh blanket of snow was nearly blinding in the bright morning sun. You looked over to your driver, Cove, who wore a focused scowl.

Cove: We made it. I can’t believe we made it.

Y/N: Isn’t it gorgeous? There is so much SNOW.

Cove smiled at you with apprehension. This trip was a special one for many reasons. You were both freshly 19, so it was your first holiday together as independent adults. On that note, it was also your first holiday away from your families. You felt more down about that than Cove did. His main gripe was the snow, and it was unmistakable in his expression. Cove parked the car in the designated snowless space. You both stepped out, Cove with a little less enthusiasm than you did.

Cove: Snow, snow, and more snow.

The cabin was glowing and decked out in beautiful Christmas decorations. An intermingling of garland and lights hung across the roof. More garland and Christmas baubles framed the frosted windows. Oversized candy canes lined the pathway up to the porch. The wreath on the front door was massive. It hung proudly with a cute snowman proclaiming “Let it Snow!���

Cove: The owners didn’t hold back out here. It’s impressive.

Mesmerized, you could only nod. The online advertisement described the cabin as a pre-decorated Christmas escape. The images you showed Cove online were spectacular, but they did not do justice to the real thing.

Not wanting to stand outside any longer, Cove moved to the trunk and began unloading the luggage. Cove first extracted a suitcase that he claimed was not filled entirely with gifts for you. Your gift for Cove lived safely in your own suitcase, already wrapped and ready to go. He then removed both of your clothing-packed suitcases. You were proud of your ability to convince Cove to bring winter-appropriate clothing to this trip.

You helped Cove drag the luggage to the front door. The host messaged you the entrance code before your arrival. You punched it into the keypad which stood in place of a normal keyhole. 1-2-2-5. Clever.

You paused for dramatic effect, then slowly opened the door to reveal the inside. It looked like a Christmas bomb went off, in the best way possible. You squealed and bounded inside first, leaving Cove to the luggage.

The cabin was small and cozy. The kitchen and living area were open to each other. There was no bedroom, only a pull-out couch that sat comfortably in front of a fireplace. The only other doors in the cabin were for the bathroom and a storage closet.

The Christmas tree drew in your eyes first. You stepped closer to inspect it and inhale the sweet evergreen scent. The tree skirt was wide and inviting to colorful wrapped boxes. Cranberry and popcorn strands wrapped the tree from bottom to top. An assortment of ornaments littered the branches. You peered into one of the big red baubles and smiled at your distorted reflection. Finally, you tilted your head upwards to take in the tree topper— a stunning golden star.

You spun around excitedly to appreciate the rest of the decorations. There wasn’t a corner or window without winter greenery. Festive cushions sat on either side of the couch. Stockings hung by the chimney with care. A miniature village of joyful folk lived on a console table by the entrance. You turned to face Cove, who had just finished lugging everything inside by himself. He shut the door and smiled at you, happy that you were already having a magical time.

Y/N: I’m sorry, Cove. I got a little carried away with—

You halted your own sentence. Your gaze drew upward to the ceiling above Cove. A mistletoe hung delicately in the doorway. Cove followed your sight, twisting his head for a better view. You strode towards him before he could speak. You stared at him intently and wiggled one of your eyebrows. He met your gaze again, already blushing intensely.

Cove: It’s one of those...

His sentence trailed off as you stepped even closer and hushed him.

Y/N: Just kiss me, you big, beautiful dumbass.

Cove gulped hard. He gently took your face in his cold hands. You hoped the heat from your blushing face would warm them. He bent towards you as you stood on your toes to meet the kiss. Your lips danced together sweetly. You parted after a moment and stared into each other's eyes. Cove’s ocean blue eyes glistened and crinkled with the wide smile that spread across his face. You dove into a hug, wrapping your arms around his tall frame. He returned the hug enthusiastically.

Cove: Let’s get everything unpacked and unwind. I need to get that fireplace lit as soon as possible.

You agreed and helped Cove locate a suitable location for the luggage. He paused with his gift-laden suitcase in hand. Face lost in thought, Cove's grip tightened on the suitcase.

Y/N: Everything okay, Cove?

Cove: Today is Christmas Eve.

Y/N: That it is.

Cove: Presents go under the tree on Christmas Eve.

You chuckled at his observations, but allowed him to continue speaking. He brushed it off casually.

Cove: I want this to be special, Y/N. If I put the gifts under the tree now you’ll see them and start wondering what’s inside.

The concern in his tone was apparent. It was just like Cove to worry so deeply about something most people wouldn’t think about. You pondered for a moment.

Y/N: Wait for me to fall asleep tonight, then sneak them under the tree like the real Santa Claus.

Cove laughed at the implication of a “real” Santa Claus. You were glad to see his mood lighten. He hesitated, then set the suitcase behind the others, careful to conceal it. Perhaps in an attempt to block you from using your x-ray vision to see through the luggage. You thought it was ridiculous, but in the sweetest way. Satisfied with the arrangement, Cove slapped his hands against his legs.

Cove: Well, now what? What Christmas activities does Y/N have planned today?

Y/N: Let me just pull out my Christmas to-do list.

You spoke sarcastically with a twinkle in your eyes. Cove rolled his eyes lightheartedly and wandered to the fireplace. While he fiddled with it you sank heavily into the couch. With an enthused “Aha!” from Cove, the fireplace roared to life. It crackled pleasantly.

Cove turned around to smile at you sweetly. He patted the ground next to him. You got up and settled in next to Cove. He wrapped his arm around you and drew you in closer. You immediately appreciated the warmth from both Cove and the fireplace. You leaned on his shoulder.

You spent the rest of the morning watching Christmas movies and munching on candy canes. For lunch, you and Cove made macaroni and cheese. You both welcomed the gooey warmth of the meal.

Imbued with energy from lunch, you leapt from your seat and proclaimed.

Y/N: We have to go outside and enjoy the snow before the sun goes down.

Cove made a sour face and spoke quietly without looking up from his now empty bowl.

Cove: Enjoy, yeah…

You sighed and clenched your jaw, restraining yourself. You knew Cove would be difficult regarding the snow, but hoped the special occasion would nudge him along.

Y/N: Fine. I’ll go outside myself.

Cove’s head immediately snapped up and he stared at you with wide, pleading eyes. He didn’t expect you to so easily give up on convincing him. You maintained an unimpressed expression while he spoke.

Cove: No, Y/N. I’ll come with you. You know I love spending time with you no matter what.

Your expression cracked with a hint of a smile, but you regained control.

Y/N: You’re going to hate it. Don’t bother.

You weren’t sure why you were being so stubborn with this. Cove was willing to compromise, but you still felt annoyed that his initial reaction put a damper on your mood. You shut your eyes tightly, now irritated by your own childishness.

Cove stood up and firmly gripped your shoulders. He waited for you to look at him. You met his gaze and stuck out your bottom lip in a small pout.

Cove: Let’s go build a snowman. It’ll be like building a sandcastle.

You sighed, but couldn’t resist his comforting voice and adoring eyes.

Y/N: I’m going to have to bundle you in layers. Gloves, a hat, maybe even a scarf.

Cove cringed at each word that escaped your lips. He nodded anyway. You both put on more winter gear in preparation for the snow activities. You held open the door for Cove, who hesitantly stepped outside.

Cove: This is way worse than the ice skating rink.

Y/N: You don’t say?

You loved teasing Cove for his blunt and often obvious statements, but he knew you adored him for it. He scoffed and stuck his tongue out at you.

Y/N: Careful with that, might get stuck on a pole.

Cove retreated his tongue and blushed lightly. You gently poked his tummy then grabbed his hand to lead him into the snow. You chose a wide open space away from the cabin for your snowman’s home. You started shoveling snow into a pile. Cove stood reluctantly nearby. You didn’t want to push him, but hoped he would join in the building.

To your surprise, it was only a moment before Cove dug his gloved hands into the snow. He smiled at you shakily while adding to your growing pile of snow. You went back and forth between adding snow and rounding the pile into a snowman base. Cove’s big hands proved useful in this endeavor. With the base done, you moved onto the head.

Y/N: We have to make the head smaller than the body.

Cove: How small? Do you want to give him a shrunken head?

You cackled at the thought, but shook your head.

Y/N: I think he deserves a normal sized head.

Between the two of you, the snowman’s head slowly grew. You stepped back to assess the size.

Y/N: I think that’s perfect. What do you think, Cove?

Cove stepped back as well and tilted his head. He spoke matter-of-factly.

Cove: Looks like a snowman.

Y/N: Not yet, he needs a face and arms.

You scoured the ground around you for twigs, leaves, and rocks. Cove did the same.

Cove: If only we had seashells. That would bring it all together.

With your findings combined, you got to work on designing the snowman. His face came together in a wide smile made of various pebbles. Leaves stuck to the top of his head represented the hair. Two sticks on either side of his body became the arms. Cove found several small pinecones to pin on his front like an array of buttons. Finally, the nose. You didn’t have a carrot on hand, so you opted for another one of Cove’s pointier pinecones.

Once again, you stepped back with Cove to admire your work. You wrapped your arm around him in a side hug, he returned the gesture with an arm around your shoulder.

Y/N: He’s beautiful.

You pretended to dramatically wipe a tear from your eye.

Cove: We should name him.

You agreed, and began to ponder names that would fit the snowman. After much deliberation, you settled on Sandy, as a memento of the inspiration for his existence.

Y/N: Sandy the Snowman, it really is perfect.

Cove: Next time we’re at the beach we should build a sandman and name him Snowy.

Cove waggled his eyebrows at you, hoping for a reaction to his hilarious joke. You couldn’t contain the grin that emerged from within. You were suddenly overcome by a wave of affection for Cove. His dorky jokes, the way he looked at you, his willingness to put his own comfort aside for your sake. You wanted nothing more than to push him down into the snow and ravage him. Knowing better, you instead decided to grab his hand again and lead him back indoors.

Cove followed with a small gasp at your sudden insistence. Once inside, you leaned Cove against the door and pressed your lips into his. You were desperate for his warmth. He returned the kiss passionately, running his fingers through your hair. You broke away from Cove, satisfied with your second mistle-toe kiss. Cove stood bewildered, disappointed by losing the warmth of your lips. You winked at him, never tiring of teasing your flustered fiancé.

You spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. You played board games, sang Christmas songs, and drank hot chocolate. As the evening emerged, a light snowfall began outside. You gazed out the window, hypnotized by the dancing snowflakes. Your eyes began to droop, and you felt the weight of the day pulling you down. You yawned and turned to Cove, who was already turning the couch into a bed. He must have sensed your weariness.

Cove threw some blankets and pillows into the bed and you dove right into the inviting warmth. He joined you and extended his arm to make his chest available to your sleepy head. You nuzzled in and closed your eyes, ready to drift away…

You stirred awake at the feeling of the mattress shifting. Your eyes fluttered open and tried to adjust to the darkness. Cove was climbing back into bed. It was completely dark outside, you judged it must have been a few hours after you fell asleep. Still half asleep, you muttered quietly to Cove.

Y/N: Santa, baby…

You couldn’t see his expression through the darkness, instead you heard a small chuckle. You held your arms out limply, hoping for a Cove cuddle. He took you in his arms and kissed the top of your head. You continued feebly, in a sleepy sing-song voice.

Y/N: So hurry down the chimney tonight…

Cove chuckled again and stroked your cheek gently.

Cove: I love you so much.

That was the last thing you heard before falling back into a deep slumber. Several hours later, the morning sun woke you. Cove was sleeping peacefully next to you, likely exhausted from playing Santa Claus last night. You turned over and rested your body on his chest. You peppered his face in tiny kisses until he awoke. His eyes eased open, a smile already growing across his face.

Y/N: Merry Christmas, Cove.

Cove: Merry Christmas, Y/N.

Unable to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, leaving Cove to fully wake himself up. You ran to your suitcase and recovered the small wrapped gift you got for Cove. You decided to place it beneath the already populated tree. Your jaw dropped seeing how many gifts Cove got you. You placed the gift down carefully and went to check on Cove.

Y/N: Please tell me you’re ready to open gifts.

Cove: I’m ready, but you have to open yours first.

You didn’t argue, you wanted to save your gift to Cove for last anyway. He joined you by the tree and sat cross-legged across from you.

Y/N: Where should I start? Is there any order to this madness?

Cove thought for a moment, then pulled out one of the presents. Shiny reindeer-imprinted paper covered the box. He held it out to you.

Cove: Definitely start with this one.

Impressed that he seemed to remember what was in each box, you took the gift with a smile. You tore open the paper and uncovered the joy within: an adorable stuffed dolphin. Your eyes lit up as you hugged the little guy. You thanked Cove, who immediately bestowed you with another carefully selected box. You giggled and repeated the process. The rest of the boxes contained: a book from your favorite series, tickets to an upcoming play, rare foreign candy, colorful seashells, and a beautiful ocean-themed puzzle.

You felt overwhelmed by the thought that Cove put into each gift. You struggled to find words besides “thank you.” However, Cove wasn’t done. He handed you a final box.

Cove: One more.

You unwrapped this one carefully, a mix of anticipation and nerves stirring within. Inside was a small album titled “Our Life.” You carefully lifted it out of the box and flipped through the pages. Each page was designed to represent a point in your lives together, from childhood all the way to this past summer. There were pictures, funny quotes, tickets from various events, and doodles. Cove even included the piece of paper from your infamous hang-man game.

You were already tearing up before you noticed a smaller box within the original box. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, you opened it.

Inside the box was a simple ring with an engraved wave design. You couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears that erupted from your eyes. Your emotions surged and your mind was spinning. Without speaking, you grabbed the present you put under the tree and offered it to Cove. He was visibly confused, even a bit concerned.

Cove: Y/N, is everything okay?

You spoke through tears.

Y/N: Just open it.

Cove silently complied. His fingers carefully removed the red and white pinstriped paper. He looked at you nervously before looking into the box. His eyes widened and glistened.

Cove: A ring…

You laughed shakily and scooted closer to Cove, still holding your own small box. He looked up at you, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/N: We’re already engaged, but still got rings for each other. And look at how emotional we are about it!

Cove: I thought it would be nice to make it official with a real engagement ring.

You nodded in agreement, pleased that you were both on the same page.

Y/N: Let’s put them on each other.

You exchanged rings with Cove. He held your still shaking hand and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. You did the same, relieved that the ring was a perfect fit on his finger.

You let out a massive sigh, it felt as if you had been holding your breath for ages. Cove was admiring the ring on his finger, his ocean eyes still glimmering with tears.

Cove: It feels as magical as it did the first time on the poppy hill.

You looked at him adoringly, unable to contain the crashing ocean of love you felt inside.

Y/N: Thank you, Cove. For putting in so much effort for me. All the time. But especially this Christmas. I know holidays aren’t your thing, especially not winter ones…

Rambling nervously, you felt like Cove in that moment. He invited you to sit on his lap with a simple pat. You settled in and waited. He cradled you close and spoke quietly but confidently.

Cove: You are my thing. You’re the best gift I could ask for. You make braving holidays and snow worth it. I can’t imagine how this day could get any better.

Cove was right. The morning was still fresh, and you were already swimming in bliss. You sniffled, feeling lucky to have him and looking forward to living your life with the man you love. Christmas Day would hold a special place in your hearts for the rest of your lives.

[everybodyscupoftea]

going nowhere

college isaac x reader

a snowstorm and a chill day

(warnings: cursing, google docs edited this)

You woke up before Isaac by a few minutes, shifting closer in his arms. The room was cold, and he was warm, hogging most of the blankets pinned between his arm and the bed. His eyebrows furrowed in his sleep, and you reached up to smooth them out gently before tapping his nose.

Scrunching it, Isaac’s eyelids started to flutter, and you waited patiently for his eyes to open and him to wake up. He blinked sleepily at you, “Morning,” he spoke, voice about two octaves deeper.

“Morning, hon,” you brushed a kiss across his cheekbone and he smiled sleepily.

Moving even closer, he shifted a little bit to give you room to get closer. He sighed in contentment, “What did you want to do today?”

“Hmm,” you mused, tapping a finger on his exposed collarbone, “we could go to the mall. Haven’t bought my roommate a Christmas present yet.”

“I need to get something else for Scott,” he broke off to yawn, “so that sounds good to me.”

You hummed, “Okay. We should get up before the mall gets too crowded.”

He groaned dramatically, but let you up, pouting as he did so. Smiling widely, you crossed your arms, staring him down until he got up and walked to the closet to get dressed.

“You’re driving right?” you asked ten minutes later after the two of you were bundled up enough to go outside.

He sighed, “You’re the one used to driving in the snow, but I suppose I can for your sake.” 

You laughed, throwing the apartment door open and immediately froze, staring out the third floor window at the feet of snow that built up overnight. He ran into you from behind, not realizing you’d stopped, and snorted at the view.

“Guess we’re not going to the mall,” you murmured.

“Looks like we’re snowed in.”

A gust of air blew through the building and you shivered, turning to nudge him back inside, “Go go go, I’m freezing.” 

The two of you took your coats off, and you nudged the heat up while Isaac made a pot of coffee. He handed you a warm mug a few minutes later and pulled you toward the couch. Before you joined him sitting, you pouted. 

Isaac sighed, faux annoyed, “Can I help you?”

“I’m cold.”

“Get a blanket,” he suggested, reaching over to pull one out of the basket you kept next to the couch.

“It wouldn’t be enough,” you insisted, definitely bullshitting.

He raised his eyebrows, “What would you like?” 

Grinning, you answered eagerly, “A sweater.”

His smile softened, and he stood up, “Now that I can do.” 

Disappearing into his room, you waited for him to come back, and when he did, he had one of your favorite of his cardigans in his hand. You pulled it on, snuggling into its warmth, and settled down on the couch next to him.

“So, what should we do?”

He hummed, “Would you mind if I caught up on my book?”

“Not at all,” you answered, “I might try one of the ones you suggested if you have any.”

Raising his eyebrows, Isaac huffed, “Sweetheart, do you think I just know off the top of my head which books I’ve recommended?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him, “You don’t have to, I have them all in my notes in my phone.”

Isaac looked genuinely taken aback, and you smiled as he finally gathered his thoughts, “Um, okay. Show me.”

And he did have some of the books so he pulled them out and let you judge by their covers which one you wanted to read first. When you picked, he grabbed his book off the nightstand and followed you back to the couch.

You let him lay down first, following suit when he finally stilled, resting between his legs, leaned back against his chest. It was comfortable, you moving with his breaths, and Isaac reached down with one of his hands to hold yours, fingers linked together. It was harder to flip the pages, but you didn’t want to let go.

The book was good, Isaac was right in his assumption you’d like it. Immediately drawn in, you held it in your right hand, as did he, your left hands linked together, resting on your stomach. He stayed very still, neither of you moving much besides taking a sip of coffee. 

The only exception being when he sat up, bringing you with him, to pull the blanket up over both of your legs. Both of you were facing a window with the blinds open, and every so often you’d look up to see it still snowing outside.

After what felt like minutes but was probably hours, Isaac’s stomach growled, breaking the two of you out of the peaceful silence. He smiled sheepishly, “We haven’t eaten yet.” 

“Do you have leftovers?” you asked, closing your book.

“Yeah.”

“Lunch break.”

You both made plates, taking turns heating them up in the microwave, and he sat down at the table first, waiting for you to join him to eat. It was quiet until he broke it again, “Hey.”

Eyebrows raised, you echoed, “Hey.”

He cleared his throat nervously, “So I’ve been wondering what jobs you’ve been looking into?”

You hummed, “I really liked the hydro class I took. Kind of knew already that I wanted to work in either transportation or water systems, but my transportation class sucked so I’m definitely leaning more toward water systems.”

Isaac nodded, “What would that entail?”

“Designing dams and stuff like that.”

“So you want to live on a coast?” 

With a laugh, you shrugged, “I’ll live wherever they give me a job.”

“Fair.”

“What about you?” you asked, leaning on your elbow, chin resting in your hand.

“I like the idea of being an English professor. I’d need to see if I need a master’s or not.” 

“Are you interested in getting a master?”

He shrugged, cheeks turning a bit red, “I like the idea. My dad always used to tell me I’ll never amount to anything. I know he’s wrong, I mean a bachelor’s degree is huge because he didn’t have one. But the idea of rubbing a master’s in his face is nice.” 

You nodded, taking it in, “I totally understand. I think if I can’t find a job relatively soon after graduating, I’m going to get a master’s myself. It’ll help me not only with a job, but I’ll be able to move up to a senior position one day if the opportunity arises.”

“And I’m sure you will, you’re very good at pretty much everything you try to do,” he praised.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, everything but English and anything writing related that’s not scientific.”

He shrugged, “And I’m great at those things, so we make a great team. A team that should never split.”

Jaw dropping a little, you stared at him, “Are you proposing to me right now?” 

Stuttering for a few seconds, he eventually managed, “No, but yes.”

“That’s clear,” you responded sarcastically.

“I’m proposing we stay together after undergrad.We go somewhere together, I’m willing to move with you anywhere. We don’t have to get married immediately, but maybe one day, we could.”

You beamed, “I would absolutely love that.”

Isaac perked up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And for the record,” you added, “if you get into grad school before I find a job, I’d move with you too and find a job there.” 

He was shaking his head before you even finished, “No, your career is more important than any degree.”

You raised your eyebrows, “I want this to be fair.”

“It will be. It absolutely will be. I don’t want you to compromise that for me.”

Touched, you managed, “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Yeah well, I want you to stick around. If that’s what it takes, I have no issue. There are schools everywhere, but there might only be a few places with your dream job. I want to support that.”

Smiling tearfully, you had to stand up and walk over to him, tiling his chin up to meet you in a kiss. He returned it eagerly, and you felt something fall into place. An uncertainty you didn’t even realize you’d been dealing with finally being resolved.

Pulling away, you kept your hand on his chin to look him in the eye and quietly spoke, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” he answered back, just as quiet.

~

day 17 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: snowed in

[snarkwrites]

summer sizzle | selfish - sweet pea | mature.

PROMPTS USED:

To the music + dirty dancing + “I like you this close to me. You’re warm.” + “You are so fucking beautiful.” + Kiss on the neck +“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” + comfort sex + needy/clingy + touching / kissing heavy + “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” + afterglow; talking and cuddling -

AUTHORS NOTES:

Look at me, being all productive and shit, posting content not once but twice in a week. Ya’ll, it’s been a while. I’m rusty as fuuuuck I won’t lie, but.. This was fun to write, even if it was a complicated little bitch in the beginning. If enough people want it, I might actually develop an actual fic for this Andrews!Oc and Pea, because I think it could be very interesting. In the meantime, unless you’re not 18+, enjoy the smut?

PAIRING:

Sweet Pea x Andrews!Ofc. [ RIVERDALE FANDOM ]

WARNINGS:

I am baaadly out of practice writing smut, first of all. Slightly jerky behavior to start with on Pea’s part, biting, s*x, swearing, overuse of petnames, angst to start with. Porn, but heavy af on the plot because apparently, I cannot write it any other way. BUT HAHAHA! THIS BITCH REMEMBERED TO HAVE THEM WRAP IT UP. I REMEMBERED THE GODDAMN CONDOM.

No children allowed,m’kay? This is smut. Not the filthiest, probably not even the best, but it’s out there.

TAGGING:

uhh.. given that this is smut, I’m gonna tag @rampagewriting​. If anyone else wants to be tagged in my stuff, follow the link below to my google doc and add yourself, yeah?

Life edit, I also tag @xxghostnappaxx​ to this. 

[ four seasons masterlist ] | [ tag list google doc ] | [ faq ]

  ----> SELFISH, a sweet pea x ofc oneshot.

“If you want to go to the dance, Alyssa.. I’m

not

stopping you.” Sweet Pea spoke calmly, giving a shrug as if he didn’t care either way. As he gazed down at me, I sighed and shook my head sadly. I tried stepping a little closer but he backed away like usual.

At this point, I find myself seriously wondering what exactly keeps me coming back.

,, oh, that’s right you stupid, stupid girl, you’re in love with the jerk.” - the thought came, taunting me in it’s brutal and raw truth.

But a girl can only be pushed out so far and honestly?

I was sick of paying for the pain Josie McCoy caused him. I was sick of having to prove myself over and over, I was beyond tired of being tested and questioned. I was tired of hoping against hope that one day, he’d finally get it. He’d realize that unlike pretty much everyone else in his life to this point, I wasn’t going anywhere.

A talk I had with Betty came back and I turned back to look at Sweet Pea, shaking my head. Something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I was saying something I knew full well I’d come to regret.

“You’re dense. All this time and you don’t get it. You can’t see what’s right here in front of you, begging to be taken. I loved you, okay? Nothing would’ve changed that. But you… You had to keep pushing me away, you had to keep questioning my motives. I’m going to the dance, Sweet Pea. And I think,” I paused, taking a few deep breaths to keep myself calm. 

If I didn’t do it, I was most definitely going to break down sobbing. I wouldn’t ever go through with this because the last thing I want to do right now is turn my back. I mean, I love the guy. I don’t want to give up like pretty much everyone else in his life has. After I’d taken a few seconds to get myself calm again, I kept going, “ I think that I’m also going to leave you alone from now on since that’s obviously what you want.”

I grabbed my backpack and before he could say anything, I walked out of the empty classroom we’d been sitting in. Almost the second I was out in the hallway and standing by my locker, what I’d just done hit me and I wound up sitting on the hallway floor, my head resting against my knees.

“Alyssa?”

I looked up to find Reggie Mantle standing there, staring down at me in concern. “Are you crying?”

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. I could’ve easily told Reggie Mantle exactly why I was sitting in the floor of the hallway crying, but in the end, I still cared entirely too much for Sweet Pea and the last thing I wanted was for him to get into another fight.

,, don’t flatter yourself. Did you not see just how little he cares when he didn’t try to stop you? When he didn’t wake up at the last second and at least try to fight for you?” the thought sat in my mind, taunting me bitterly. And I still kept the reason I was crying to myself.

Reggie flopped down next to me and kind of awkwardly slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, c’mon, princess.”

“Don’t call me that… Please?” I glanced up at him, wincing a little at the use of the pet-name. Given that pretty much all of Archie’s friends called me that, I realized suddenly that when Sweet Pea called me that, it had taken on a whole new meaning for me. It changed from just a dumb nickname given to me by my older brother and all of his friends to something… Special. Intimate.

And now, I was going to hear it all the time and yeah, it was probably going to hurt like hell.

Reggie eyed me and I gave him a pleading look. “There has to be a million other things you can call me. I’m not a little girl anymore, Reg.” I said it quickly, hoping it wouldn’t raise suspicion or anything.

I didn’t want any of this getting back to Pea, putting him into a situation with my brother or any of his friends. I let out a deep breath that I didn’t even realize I held when Reggie smiled and nodded, seeming to accept my hasty explanation.

“There’s a lot of things I could call you, angel.” he said it so smoothly that I had not a single doubt in my mind that yet again, he was hitting on me.

But I was hurting so much at the moment, I didn’t immediately put him off. I looked up at him and gave a weak sort of smile, shrugging. “Whatever you wanna call me… Just not princess, okay?”

Reggie flashed a grin and gave me the thumbs up, springing up off the hallway floor. He held out his hand and warily, I eyed it a few seconds before finally allowing him to pull me off the floor. He walked me to class and just before I disappeared in the door, he stopped me, dragging his fingers through his hair as he eyed me up. “You gonna be alright, angel?”

“Yeah, it just hasn’t been a good day.”

“If you wanna talk.. You’ve got your old buddy Reggie.”

Somehow, when he said it, I got the distinct feeling that he meant something more by it, but I shoved the thought down. 

--

I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me and several times, I almost turned around. I almost said something. But I remembered what I was trying to do, and I remembered the way he didn’t say anything to stop me when I did it and the hurt came back all over again.

Sweet Pea hissed my name from behind and I stared straight ahead, blatantly ignoring him. The teacher gave him a dirty look and he went quiet after that. Despite my resolve not to, I found myself turning around now and then, watching him when he wasn’t looking.

But I can’t keep letting myself be a doormat. I have to stand my ground. Even if this is killing me. Even if it’s the last thing I want to do. 

Bearing that in mind, for the rest of the week, I went above and beyond to either avoid Sweet Pea or make sure I was never alone in the hallway or after class so he couldn’t find me or talk to me. I made myself scarce. I bottled everything up and I shoved it all down. And I thought I was doing a pretty damn good job at it too...

--

“You! Explain yourself right now.” Cheryl and Toni stormed into Pop’s and glared at Sweet Pea angrily as they stood by the booth he sat in by himself.

“Hey to you too, Blossom.” Sweet Pea grumbled, not even bothering to look up from the barely touched plate of food sitting on the booth in front of him. He growled quietly when Cheryl and Toni took it upon themselves to sit down in the other side of the booth without bothering to ask.

“Obviously, you two are gonna say something, so just say it and go. Kind of not in the mood.” Sweet Pea spoke up as he stared out the window, into the parking lot. 

“What kind of idiot are you?” Toni asked, shaking her head as she reached across the table, taking some of Sweet Pea’s french fries and eating them herself. He gave her a dirty look but she shrugged, wiping away ketchup from the corners of her mouth before repeating herself. “I repeat, Pea… what kind of an idiot are you?”

“A pretty big one, if you want my opinion, lover.” Cheryl answered Toni’s question before Sweet Pea could say anything.

“Can you two stop dancing around whatever this is and say it?”

“We heard about what happened with you and Alyssa. Are you seriously going to sit here and do nothing? She said she loved you, Pea. What? That’s just not good enough?”

“I know what she said.” Sweet Pea barked the statement, making both girls share a look. After quiet whispering, the two looked at him again, determined. “It was, okay? I just..” he trailed off, swearing under his breath and shaking his head as the two of them shared a look and then directed their gaze to him in unison.

 “What?” Sweet Pea grumbled, taking a sip of the soda on the table beside him.

“You’re going to fix this, you giant idiot. You have to fix it. I can’t have one of my Vixens going around all mopey or even worse, missing Homecoming festivities entirely. Need I remind you, we Vixens have a strong reputation in this school? And if one of us is lacking spirit, it makes us all look bad.”

Sweet Pea laughed. The laughter died away when he realized that they were being serious. “That’s what this is about? Your stupid cheerleading shit? You do realize I can’t fix it, right? Do you not think I’ve tried, Blossom?”

“Try harder, you big oaf.” Cheryl leaned in slightly, glaring at Sweet Pea in frustration. She added as an afterthought, “ I hate seeing her like this, okay? She’s a sweet girl and honestly, it kills me. I need her happy and bubbly. You broke my Vixen, you fix her now.” 

“Don’t hold your breath, Blossom.” Sweet Pea shrugged, his shoulders sagging as he went back to staring down at mostly untouched food. Toni eyed him and spoke up.

“Wow. I have never seen you just sit and pick at your food, Pea. This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Gee… whatever gave you that idea, Topaz?” Sweet Pea snorted sarcastically, giving an eye roll as he shifted around in his seat, eyeing the door. All he wanted to do was escape right now. Because the more they said, the more it made him replay that day over and over again.

And it hurt like hell. It only made him angry at himself all over again.

“You know, you’re a stubborn ass, right? You could fix this if you really wanted to. But I guess you don’t. So I guess she’ll just wind up moving on and you’ll go back to being the miserable man-bitch we all know and love yet want to strangle.”

Toni smirked as her words hit their mark and the two of them stood, walking out of Pops, leaving Sweet Pea to stew in Toni’s parting remark. And it took hold, rooting itself in his mind.

That’s the one thing about friends who are like family. They always know where to hit at to illicit an actual reaction.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Sweet Pea stood, tossing his half eaten food and the empty soda into a bin and he strode out the door into the parking lot.

He happened to look across the parking lot, spot her getting out of the truck with her father, Fred.

He called her name and for once, she looked back. The hurt look in her eyes and the sad shake of her head was what really got him. He couldn’t have felt worse if he tried. He stood there, watching her walk into Pop’s with her father and in that moment, he made up his mind.

One way or another, even if it took a long time, he was going to fight. He couldn’t just give up. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers.

--

My father cleared his throat from the seat across the booth. “Everything okay, shortcake?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s all good.”

“Well then what was all that outside?”

“What?” I asked the question, tensing a little. Sometimes, having such a perceptive father isn’t really a great thing. Especially when I don’t really… like acknowledging pain. Or dealing with it. I mean, my whole idea of dealing with the situation with Sweet Pea has been to just pretend I’m okay, but to go above and beyond to avoid him. 

“You know what I’m talkin about. The kid called your name and you gave him that look. The one you always gave Archie when you were little and Archie wouldn’t let you tag along to play.”

I plastered on my best convincing face and shook my head, taking a noisy sip of my chocolate milkshake. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, dad. He’s in my class. He was just saying hey.”

“It sounded like he was trying to talk to you.” my father pointed out and I bit my lip, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well.. If he wanted to talk, he should’ve done it earlier. At school. I’m starving. Can we order now?”

My father chuckled and for a few seconds, he eyed me as if he wanted to ask more questions. Thankfully, he let it go. “Yeah. What do you want? I think I’m gonna get my usual.”

“I think I’m going to try your usual, actually.”

“That’s a lot of burger, kid.” my father laughed.

I shrugged and did my best to laugh. As I happened to look over at the window, I did so just in time to see Sweet Pea’s truck pulling out of the parking lot. For a second or two, I wondered what he might have said if I’d walked over.

But I quickly shoved that out of my head.

-- LE TIME SKIPPE.

Cheryl spotted me making my way into the gym. “You came!” she pulled me into a hug and I nodded, shrugging. My eyes roamed around the gym and I swallowed hard, stomach sinking just a little when I saw no sign of Sweet Pea anywhere.

,, did you really think he’d show, Alyssa?” - the thought had me frowning a little, but I quickly plastered on my best attempt at a bright smile when we pulled back from the little hug. Cheryl smiled. “I love the dress. Let’s see if we can’t get you circulating…”

“Actually, I’m just gonna go get some punch? Maybe observe until they play a song worth dancing to?” I bit my lip as I said it and Cheryl eyed me a second or two, before finally giving a nod under Toni’s gaze.

If not for Toni, I have no idea Cheryl would’ve ignored me and gone ahead, doing what she wanted. It used to annoy the hell out of me when we were all kids, but now, I kind of see it as her, trying to show that she really does care.

And she’s been a lot more help than she realizes since things with Sweet Pea crashed and burned so badly. She hasn’t really… let me mope a lot. I’ve wanted to, but she and Toni always find a way to manage keeping me from it.

I made my way over to the punch bowl and the refreshments table and I turned around, my back to the crowd as I scooped punch into my cup, grumbling to myself as soon as I felt the burn of alcohol as it crawled down my throat and into my stomach. “Figures. Somebody would have to spike the punch.” I mused to myself as I sipped from the cup and momentarily toyed with the idea of just grabbing the entire chocolate cake on the table and a plastic fork, disappearing for the alcove beneath the stairs on the freshman wing.

But I told myself that I was coming tonight. I’m trying to get over him. And damn it, I’m determined to fake it til I make it.

“Wanna dance, angel?” Reggie leaned against me from behind, muttering the words quietly against my ear. I bit my lip, trying to brainstorm the best way to politely turn him down.

There’s only one guy I want to dance with, but apparently, I’m not and will never be good enough.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, frustrated with myself.

I was about to turn around and accept Reggie’s offer  when I heard Sweet Pea speaking up from behind Reggie. “Beat it, Dog.”

“How about you fuck outta here, Serpent?” Reggie gave Sweet Pea a dirty look. 

I stood there, eyes darting from one to the other, both of them tensed and squared up, ready to go in the snap of a finger.

“Guys, no.” I spoke up, warning tone as my hand rested against my hip. “You’re not about to start this shit.”

“He started it.” both responded, glaring at the other. I rolled my eyes and tried to make  it a point to avoid Sweet Pea’s intent gaze. The way deep brown eyes roamed over every single inch of my body, lingering just enough to make my breath catch in my throat. In the end, I just couldn’t though, and I found myself getting sucked into his gaze.

I sighed quietly and managed to tear my eyes off the way he looked in a borrowed suit, the tie undone at his neck, even though the sight of him had my knees utterly weak. I focused on Reggie instead and plastered on a smile, nodding to the dance floor.

“Didn’t you ask me to dance, Reg?” I asked, stepping away from Sweet Pea and a little closer to Reggie. He held out his arm and I looped mine through, letting him lead me out onto the dance floor.

I didn’t dare look back at Sweet Pea. I didn’t have to. I could feel his eyes penetrating me, I could feel his gaze shift to Reggie and I, despite Reggie moving us towards other parts of the gym floor several times during the dance we shared. At one point, he chuckled against my ear as I grinded against him, hips swaying in time to the song playing, “If looks could kill right now, huh?”

I swallowed hard, catching eyes with Sweet Pea. He was leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. If he glared any harder at Reggie, Reggie would drop dead on the spot. I did my best to look like I was having the time of my life and finally, the song came to an end. Reggie chuckled and dragged his fingers through his hair as he winked at me and told me he’d find me later on tonight, maybe we’d dance again.

I nodded, even though I had every intention of disappearing long before that happened. I was heading back towards the punch bowl for another cup of punch when I felt arms wrap around my waist and I found myself body to body with Sweet Pea.

“That fuckin guy?” Sweet Pea nodded to Reggie, who was already dancing with another girl. I bit my lip and stepped back a little when Sweet Pea moved closer, towering over me.

“He asked me to dance. Seeing as how I’m here alone tonight, all dressed up, I didn’t see the harm.”

“You didn’t see the harm.” Sweet Pea was doing his best at keeping a calm tone, but I could see the exact second his fists clenched at his sides and I could hear it in the way he exhaled. What I didn’t understand was why exactly he was so jealous.

“No. I didn’t.” I swallowed hard as he stepped closer. His hand ghosted my side, fingertips digging in ever so slightly when they stilled on my hip. He leaned down just a little and muttered quietly, calmly, “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you, princess.” using my moment of confusion to pull me closer, pressing me against him. The way he said it had my heart fluttering a little and I barely managed not whimpering at the look in his eyes when mine met his after a few seconds.

I tried to keep some distance between us, attempting to pull back a little even though that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. I was trying to keep my defenses up. However, he seemed to pick right up on it and something softened in his eyes as he tried again, pulling me close all over again, arms around my waist. 

I couldn’t formulate words or string a single coherent thought together and it was a damn shame because there was so much I wanted to say to him. To yell at him. He’d hurt me and honestly, I just wanted to let him have it.

Instead, I sighed and melted into his arms a little, my hand raising and catching in the collar of his borrowed suit. His mouth grazed right against the shell of my ear and he muttered huskily against, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” before tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him. I gulped, taking a deep breath.

“You really hurt me. I mean, you really, really hurt me.” I pouted a little, at least making a valiant effort to stand my ground and make him own up to his part in the way things played out almost two weeks ago. He flinched, his hand leaving my hip and raising to rake hair back out of my eyes as he continued to stare down at me intently, lost in thought. I took a deep breath and continued, “I should just walk away. Right now.”

“Princess, don’t.” Sweet Pea spoke up quietly with his tone torn between firmness and fear, leaning his forehead down, resting it against mine. Somebody got the DJ to play Love Me Like You Do and for a second, I heavily considered it, just walking off the dance floor and maybe even leaving the dance altogether.

Instead, I took a deep breath and met his gaze, eyeing him expectantly. “Do you have nothing at all to say for yourself, Sweet Pea?”

“Oh, I got plenty to say, princess. I’m just not saying it here, in front of everyone.” Sweet Pea muttered the words quietly, his lips brushing right up against mine as he spoke. I sucked in a sharp breath but I also pouted again, tensing against him a little, because obviously, that was the entirety of our problem to start with. I knew how he felt, hypothetically, I never really doubted it until that last day I talked to him, when he didn’t try to stop me, when he didn’t come after me and trust me enough not to hurt him like he’d already been hurt to let it all go. I did manage to step back just a little, putting space between us and I shook my head. “Wrong answer, Sweet Pea.”

He swallowed hard, looking around.

I bit my lip, shuffling my feet against the gym floor. I didn’t want to do this, but I also didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to risk anything until I knew that this time, things were going to be a little different.

If not, I couldn’t just stick around and keep waiting, no matter how much I wanted to. What if he was never ready to let me in?

“What do you want me to say? I love you? Fine. I love you.” Sweet Pea was stepping closer all over again, hands firmly planted on my hips this time to hold me in place. At first, I thought about bolting because I wasn’t entirely sure whether he was just saying it now to get me to stay or whether he meant it, but then I looked up and my eyes actually met his.

“I love you and this whole thing is driving me fucking insane, princess.” he pulled me completely against him this time, staring down at me almost hungrily. He grumbled and rolled his shoulders making muscular arms strain against the ill fitting suit and I found my eyes fixated on that, distracted. 

“I see you checking me out, princess. Is there something you want? Just tell me and it’s yours, I promise.” the question was posed with that trademark cocky smirk and I gulped, locking eyes with him. Seconds felt stretched into hours and neither of us said anything, we just stared. At least until I felt his hands wandering all over me as we danced. He leaned in closer, a hand leaving where it rested against my ass to raise to my cheek, gripping, guiding my mouth straight to his own. 

My back hit one of the gym walls softly and I found myself pressed right up against it, his hand lowering from where it rested on my cheek to roam all over my body as his mouth devoured mine hungrily. I could feel my lips starting to bruise and swell and when his teeth sank into my bottom one, tugging at it, I whimpered and raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck, only after I dragged my fingers over his scalp. His other hand tangled in my hair, using his grip to pull my lips into the kiss even deeper still. By this point, we were both gasping for breath, panting heavily and a whimper bubbled out of my throat when he bucked himself against me and growled into the kiss quietly just before it broke, both of us pulling away, wide-eye and trying desperately to catch our breath.

“I asked you a question. Is there anything you want right now, princess?” his voice was a low rumble when he spoke and the way he towered over me, staring down, with an arm raised and his palm flat against the wall I was pressed up against had me leaning against him heavily, all the bones pretty much leaving my legs and reducing them to gelatin just a little more with each little touch, with each on purpose graze of his mouth against my ear or my neck, even the front of my throat. I finally managed to rub against him a little and he growled quietly, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at me, the lust burning bright in his eyes. 

The music changed to a slower song and I shivered at the way he rubbed himself against me, the way he strained against the suit pants making me bite my lip and cling to him, rubbing against him right back. I was grateful for the fact that we were in the back of the gym and nobody was really paying us any attention, because I’d never really danced this dirty with anyone before.

The next thing I knew, I was being scooped up into his arms and carried out of the gym. I clung to him, my lips grazing up and down the side of his neck, little whimpers as he whispered things to me while carrying me out of the dance.

He unlocked his truck, opening the passenger door and sitting me in the seat, stepping between my legs as his hands wandered up and down my sides, then over my thighs. My head fell back and I licked my lips, earning me a growl and him leaning in against me heavily to whisper against the shell of my ear, “You know what that does to me, princess.”

“No, I actually don’t. I didn’t, I mean.” I managed to gasp out in a shaky breath against his ear as my hands wandered down the front of the button up top, unable to still, touching him in any way I could. My legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed against, my heels digging into his ass to pull him against me even more. It ended up leaning me back against the seat a little and Sweet Pea followed me down, his lips ghosting down the front of my throat, littering soft skin with bites and marks.

“We’re leaving, princess… If that’s okay with you.” he managed to gasp out the question when he pulled himself away from my neck and throat, catching his breath as he stared down at me, almost anxiously. It was a switch from the way he usually carried himself, so cocky and self-assured at all times. It let me know just how much I’d truly gotten to him.

“Mhm.” I purred against his neck after I’d melted into him again, muttering a few seconds later, “I like you this close to me. You’re warm.” and batting my lashes, making him growl quietly when the movement tickled his skin. His fingers dug into my body even more, squeezing as if he were trying desperately to hang onto any shred of self-control he might have left. 

“This isn’t getting us outta here, princess.” he gave a low and dark chuckle against my mouth as he zeroed in on it again, another bruising and deep kiss that left my lips swollen and achy. I whimpered, almost needy as he stepped away, tucked my legs into his truck and shut the passenger door firmly. He jogged around to the driver seat and got in, wasting no time in cranking the truck and spinning out of the parking lot and onto the street that ran right past it.

His hand left the steering wheel, moving slowly up and down my thigh, making me whimper and squirm as he nodded to the space next to him in the middle of the bench seat. “C’mon, princess. Get closer.”

I moved closer, leaning against his side and my breath caught in my throat when I felt his hand venture up my dress, rubbing me through the pink satin beneath it. He leaned in a little at the one redlight in town and muttered almost cocky against my ear, “Princess, you’re dripping.” and bit his lip as he pulled away, turning his attention back to the road in front of us as the light went green. The more he rubbed, the more I rocked myself against his hand, making him chuckle quietly. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Just a few more minutes, okay? And then, if you let me, I’m gonna take real good care of you. I mean that, princess.” 

My head fell back against the seat with a soft thud and I whimpered as I rocked myself against his hand even more after he started to rub harder, faster. “Sweet Pea.” I choked out, panting heavily, “Don’t stop. Feels so good.”

The truck pulled to a stop and he killed the engine, wrangling me into his lap, making me pout because he’d taken his hand away. His lips were all over my face and neck until I couldn’t take it anymore and I was literally dying to be kissed again, my hands resting against his cheeks and pulling his mouth against mine greedily.

He bucked himself into me from below and as I rocked myself back and forth in his lap, his fingers dug into my sides, pressing me down harder. “Fuck. I can feel you dripping, princess. This feel good?”

“Yes. So good.” I gasped as I buried my lips in his neck, leaving a mark of my own behind, making him groan and buck into me harder, holding my hips still so that he had control over the friction as he looked me up and down, almost as if he were sizing up mentally just how long it would take to strip me down.

He stepped out of his truck, not bothering to put me down, carrying me up the steps and into his trailer, the door shut and locked behind us. My back pressed into it as his hand made it’s way back up my dress and he bucked against me, rubbing his hand harder against soaked pink satin. 

“Sweet Pea.” I moaned out, shattering the silence in the trailer. “Yeah, baby girl?” he breathed against my ear, his fingers trailing a line straight up my slit after slipping into my panties. “Now. Need you now.” I nipped at his neck as I raised one of my legs to his waist, trying to keep myself steady.

“Now, hmm? If that’s what you want, princess.” he broke the kiss and pulled back, searching my eyes, almost as if he were making sure that I wanted to go this far. I licked my lips and whimpered, rocking myself against his hand all over again, begging for it breathlessly until he pulled me up his body and carried me over to the mattresses he slept on, my back hitting them softly as he sank down, sitting next to me. I climbed into his lap, my fingers pulling at the buttons on his shirt after I’d managed to tug down the jacket of the suit, letting it fall to the bed. His hands disappeared up my dress, fingers catching in the waistband of my panties, tearing them away with a quiet rip and tossing them onto the floor by the bed. He laid me back, positioning himself over me, pressing himself down into me and his mouth rolled over my neck, leaving more bitemarks and little nips behind, smirking against my skin as he did so.

“Everybody’s gonna know you’re mine, princess. You sure you’re okay with that?” his voice was husky, laced with sex and want, almost raw and primal as his lips brushed against my ear and he rocked himself against me. I got my hands free from where they’d been caught and immediately, I went for the button and zipper on his pants, tugging pants and boxers down at the same time. They pooled at his feet as he stood up and he kicked them free, sending them skidding quietly out into the middle of the floor before turning his attention to the little tray table at the head of the bed, digging around on top of it, coming up with a condom in his grip. 

He pulled himself away from me, because he’d been pressed against me again, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and spitting the foil onto the floor after he’d torn the packaging.As he prepared to put it on, I gently pushed his hand away, gazing up at him as my hand circled his cock, working the rubber sheath down in place over it. He growled, bucking himself into my hand and almost the second it was fully on, he had me on my back again, lowering himself down over me.

My legs wrapped around him and he rose up, his hand circling his thick member, guiding it right over my slit, making me gasp as he stared down at me and bit his lip, leaning down just a little to murmur against my ear, “Don’t let me hurt you, princess.”

I hissed as I felt the tip slowly slip in and my nails dug into his shoulders as I tensed all over. He went still, staring down at me, kissing me all over my face before zeroing into my mouth again, but not until I begged for it first.

He started to fuck into me slowly as I began to relax, and I rocked my hips up to meet each thrust, the tips of my fingers gripping at his shoulders a little harder with each one. “You feel so so good, princess. So good. You’re okay, right?”

“Feels good.” I gasped, my eyes fluttering open and shut as I started to feel myself tensing, this slow and lazy heat settling in my core. I could feel myself dripping, and the soft smack of our bodies with every single thrust echoed off the walls of the trailer. He slowed to a stop again, muttering against my lips in a daze, “Gotta slow down, princess. I wanna take my time with you.” and I nodded. I wasn’t really in a hurry to get home, my father told Archie and I we could be out late tonight because of the dance.

Honestly, I’d told him I’d probably just stay over at Cheryl’s or something and he’d been okay with it.

The prospect of having a whole night alone with Sweet Pea was exciting. 

His thrusts sped up a little and when I raised my arms to wrap them around his neck again, he chuckled, smiling down at me, a softer version of his usual cocky smirk. “You feel so good, princess. You’re takin me so well. C’mon, move your hips, baby girl. That’s it.” he groaned out against my ear as he started to slam into me harder, more erratically. 

By now, that slow and lazy heat in my core had turned into a dull throb and I moaned out, rocking my hips to meet his thrusts with more urgency because I could feel myself getting closer and closer with each stroke. He growled and gripped at my hips, trying to hold me still and stay in control, chuckling against my ear almost teasingly, “You gonna come for me?”

“So.. so close.. Don’t stop.” I begged over and over as his thrusts got deeper, rougher, and his fingers dug into my hips, the smack of his body against mine almost in competition to overcome the sound of our combined moans and groans and the soft sucks and slurps every single time his mouth conquered mine. He licked his lips and his jaw clenched, I got the feeling he was holding back and holding off and I dug my heels into his ass, driving him even deeper inside. He groaned against my skin, “Fuck. C’mon, princess. Let go.” as my orgasm shattered through and it pushed him over the edge too, his cock pulsing, my walls vising tight around it as we clung to each other and tried to catch our breath.

After peppering my face and neck and collarbone with kisses, he flopped onto the mattress next to me, rolling onto his side, trailing those thick fingertips slowly over my bare skin as he stared down at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” I yawned out, rolling onto my side to face him, slipping my leg over his hip. He raised his hand, gliding it slowly over my thigh, gingerly trailing his fingertips over a few light bruises his hands and fingers left behind on my body. 

“You sleepy, baby girl?” he laughed, teasing me a little as my eyes started to get heavy... 

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

Finished Chapter One! Putting It Under Read More Because It’s Like, 21 Pages In Google Docs.(Reblogs And Opinions Appreciated!)Taglist: @bccfggffbgv, @new-account-sam-christy-456, Hope Ya Don’t Mind The Tags-Feel Free To Ask To Be Added Or Removed From The Taglist!

Chapter 1: “Into the Inkwell!”

“Today, another batch of Ink was stolen, alongside machine parts. We have no clue who’s committing the thefts, but we’re constantly on the lookout for any clues or suspects.” The TV broadcast.

“Ink and Machine part theft? Why those specific items?” Dipper hummed, confused.

“Maybe it’s a rogue cartoonist out to get revenge on the world that scorned them! The world that decided that they were not worthy to press comics or cartoons to the world!” Mabel guessed.

“Or it could be that they’re creating a machine that relies on Ink for fuel.” Dipper suggested.

“Hey kids, whatcha watching?” Stan asked, leaning in.

“The news.” Dipper said, pointing at the current newscast on the television screen. Stan looked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yada yada, Ink stolen, yada yada, machine parts, yada yada….” Stan read. Stan froze as he read over the broadcast again. “Ink and Machine parts?! That sounds like…” Stan trailed off.

“Sounds like what, Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked. Stan shook his head.

“Nothing, Dipper. Nothing at all. Just thought I had an idea is all.” Stan declined.

(Flashback.)

“Heya, Ford, can I get your opinion on somethin’?” Hunter asked nervously.

“What is it?” Ford asked, turning to look at Hunter, crouching down to look her in the eyes.

“We-Well, I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I got a blueprint idea and I-I wanted your input if that’s okay with you…?” Hunter asked. Ford laughed, standing up.

“Of course! I’m glad you’re willing to give inventing a try!” Ford smiled. Hunter sheepishly handed the blueprints over, Ford reading them over, eyes narrowing as he read them.

“Hunter,” Ford started, tearing his eyes away from the paper. “Is this,” He said, pointing at the paper. “A machine that’s meant to use Ink as a power source?” Ford asked.

“We-Well, yeah, i-i-i-is that too weird…?” Hunter asked sheepishly, shifting where she was standing.

“Weird? Of course not!” Ford scolded. Hunter’s face heated up in embarrassment. “It’s inGENIOUS!!!!” Ford grinned. Hunter felt hope bubbling in her stomach. “But I’m already seeing one problem with the build here,” Ford said, unrolling the blueprints. “See, the way this is set up, it’s going to be expensive to use because of the sheer amount of Ink needed to power it, even if you just need a small print!” Ford explained.

“Y-Yeah, I tend to dream big…!” Hunter chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“Hunter, my dear, that is preCISELY the kind of dreaming that I encourage!” Ford grinned.

“I-I’m not interrupting anything important, a-am I?” Hunter asked. Ford shook his head.

“No, no, no! It’s PERFECTLY fine, Hunts!” Ford grinned.

“So how could I improve the build of this thing?” Hunter asked.

“Well, you could start by downsizing it a bit,” Ford started. “With the specific Ink you want to power this thing, it’d be outright UNaffordable if you kept it this size! Maybe make it the size of...oh...An average printer! That’d be an affordable amount of Ink AND it’d be a HUGE space saver!” Ford suggested. Hunter nodded, taking notes.

(Timeskip a few hours.)

“Oh! Sorry! I forgot to ask! What’re you planning to use this for?” Ford asked. Hunter winced quietly, sweating nervously. “Hunts?” Ford asked, worried at the reaction.

“I wanted to bring my cartoons to life…!” Hunter explained nervously.

“By printing them into a comic book! Hunter, you’re a genius!!” Ford exclaimed.

“I….I wasn’t being metaphorical, F-Fordsy….” Hunter frowned. Ford tilted his head, confused. “I-I...I meant LITERALLY…” Hunter grimaced.

“WHAT?!?” Ford gasped. “Hunter, you mean to tell me that your plans for this thing are to PLAY GOD?!?” Ford snapped.

“I-I know how that sounds, b-but-” Hunter started.

“No, don’t say ANYTHING MORE. I’ve helped you with this plan ENOUGH. I refuse to help someone who thinks that they can play God. The door is behind you.” Ford sneered.

“Fordsy, I-I-” Hunter started.

“DOOR.” Ford frowned.

“Ford, I-I-” Hunter restarted.

“DOOR, OUT, NOW.” Ford ordered.

“Ford, I’m sor-” Hunter started.

“GET OUT BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT, HUNTER!!!!” Ford yelled, pointing at the door. Hunter winced, picking her backpack and blueprints up and heading out the door before any more harm was done.

“Is everythin’ okay out here, Pines?” Fiddleford asked.

Ford sighed heavily. “Someone I knew that I THOUGHT was my friend was trying to use science for playing God.” Ford frowned. Ford shook his head. “Let’s get back to work on the portal. Where are we at for schematics, Fids?” Ford asked.

(Present day.)

“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper called. Stan shook himself out of it, coming back to reality.

“I’m fine, kids, what happened?” Stan asked.

“Ya just sorta...Spaced out a bit there, are you okay?” Mabel asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart! No need to worry!” Stan laughed. Mabel and Dipper looked at each other, swapping worried looks.

“Grunkle Stan, do you have any idea who the criminal could be?” Dipper asked. Stan froze. He could know, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

“No. I don’t.” Stan declined.

“Hmm…” Dipper hummed.

“Mystery twin investigation?” Mabel suggested.

“Mystery twin investigation.” Dipper nodded.

“Be careful, you two!! I gotta getcha home in one piece!!” Stan reminded as the two ran out.

Stan sighed, walking to his room and pulling out a photo with three smiling kids in it. “It couldn’t be you, right bud…?” Stan thought.

(Flashback)

“Heya, Stan, can uh...can we talk really quick…?” Hunter asked, pacing in place nervously.

“Yeah, sure, what’s on your mind, Tiny?” Stan asked.

“Well, I’ve been hopping around the states with ya for a while now, yeah..?” Hunter asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, is something wrong?” Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Weell….” Hunter winced.

“Hunter, I’m pretty much your brother at this point, is something wrong?” Stan asked, knowing by now how to tell when Hunter was nervous.

“I…….I don’t know how to say this…” Hunter coughed.

“Tell it to me straight, Sister. I won’t get mad!” Stan assured.

Hunter’s eyes filled with hope. Finally! She could speak her mind without judgement! “Well, I got a letter from someone and I uh...It’s telling me to meet ‘em there, so uh…” Hunter stammered.

“Oh! Ya want me to take ya there?” Stan asked. Hunter’s stomach dropped. It called for just her.

“No! I mean, I wouldn’t object! I mean! Uh...Words are hard!” Hunter grimaced.

“It’s okay, Sis! Ya don’t know how to drive yet, so I’m sorta your taxi!” Stan grinned. “We can head out first thing in the morning tomorrow!” Stan beamed.

Hunter hesitantly nodded. She’d have to sneak out at night. Good thing Stan was a heavy sleeper.

(That night)

Hunter packed her stuff in her backpack, sneaking out and starting the trek to the assigned meetup spot. It’d take her about a week on foot while it’d take maybe a day by car, but she didn’t wanna risk anything. On foot was better. Less awkward.

(A week later at the meetup spot.)

Hunter knocked on the wood door. Maybe wearing shorts was a bad idea. How was she supposed to know it’d be cold there?! The door opened and Hunter stood with her shoulders squared, standing upright.

“Hunter, I’m glad you could make it. Are you alone?” Ford asked, looking around.

“Yeah, it’s just me, Ford.” Hunter assured. Ford sighed in relief, moving so Hunter could walk inside the shack.

“Sorry, I’m just...More careful now. Don’t want to risk anything.” Ford sighed.

“Dude, it’s...It’s okay. I get it.” Hunter assured.

“Well, let me show you what I called you here for.” Ford said, gesturing for Hunter to follow. Hunter followed behind him, holding her backpack tightly.

“What is this place…?” Hunter asked, looking around at all the gadgets and gizmos.

“This,” Ford said, hitting a light switch. “Is my laboratory where I keep all my experiments and inventions.” Ford said, sitting down at a desk.

“Whoa…” Hunter gasped.

“Speaking of experiments..” Ford started, making eye contact with Hunter that she didn’t dare break, for fear of death. “How’s...YOURS coming along?” Ford grimaced.

“Oh, that...It’s coming along okay, just need to fix the kinks and stuff! I sorta had one successful byproduct, but he sorta-” Hunter started.

“Wait, it WORKED?!?” Ford snapped.

“Yeah! It DID, for your information!” Hunter snapped back.

“How?!? That should be IMPOSSIBLE!” Ford groaned.

“I had a little outside help, Sixer!!” Hunter snapped, slamming her hands over her mouth afterwards, horror washing over her as she took note of Ford’s facial expression.

“No. no you did NOT just say what I THINK you just said! You did NOT JUST SAY WHAT I THINK YOU SAID!” Ford snapped.

“What?!? What do YOU think happened?!?” Hunter snapped.

“I THINK YOU MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON!!!” Ford yelled.

“BILL WASN’T A HORRIBLE GUY!! HE UNDERSTOOD MY PLANS AND HELPED ME FIGURE IT OUT AND GET IT TO WORK!!!!” Hunter snapped.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU COME TO ME?!?” Ford demanded.

“BECAUSE I KNEW THAT YOU’D YELL AT ME!!!” Hunter yelled.

“WELL, IT HAPPENED ANYWAY!!” Ford bit back.

“AT LEAST WITH BILL, I HAD A FRIEND, OKAY?!?” Hunter snapped, temper slowly losing itself.

“Do NOT-” Ford started.

“NO, YOU GOT TO TALK, NOW IT IS MY TURN!!! I WENT TO BILL BECAUSE NOBODY ELSE WOULD HELP ME!!! I DIDN’T WANT TO, BUT YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE!!” Hunter snapped.

“BECAUSE IT’S WRON-” Ford started.

“IS IT WRONG TO WANT SOMEBODY TO HUG AND CUDDLE WITH WHEN YOU’RE FEELING SAD?!?” Hunter demanded.

“YOU HAVE STANLEY!” Ford objected.

“I DON’T WANNA INCONVENIENCE HIM WITH MY PROBLEMS!!” Hunter shouted.

“YOU’RE PROBABLY BLOWING THIS OUT OF PROPORTION!!” Ford snapped.

“I ALMOST WOULDN’T HAVE MADE IT IF THAT ONE BYPRODUCT DIDN’T SURVIVE, FORD!!!” Hunter snapped, last thread breaking.

“...what…?” Ford gasped.

“I was so convinced I was a failure that I planned that day if the trial run didn’t work, I’d just...I-I’d…” Hunter hiccupped.

“Hunter, I-I had no idea…!” Ford apologized.

“I-It stills hurts sometimes...” Hunter smiled sadly.

“Hunter, I’m sorry, I really had no idea-” Ford started.

“I...I gotta go...I have to go deal with some stuff.” Hunter said, getting up and hurrying to leave.

(Present day.)

“People who saw the suspect say that they wore a hoodie, but they couldn’t make much else out because it was dark…” Dipper hummed.

“Well, Robbie wears a hoodie!” Mabel suggested.

“...................Not him.” Dipper said.

“You’re right, too far fetched, Dipper.” Mabel nodded.

“Who else wears a hoodie…” Dipper hummed.

“I dunno, hoodies ARE popular here.” Mabel said.

“Yeah...That’s annoying…” Dipper sighed.

“Hmm….” Mabel hummed.

“Mabel, am I the only one who finds it weird how Stan just spaced out as he read the headlines on the news?” Dipper asked.

“It is a LITTLE suspicious...But I doubt he knows anything!” Mabel shrugged comically.

“Yeah...Maybe I can ask him later…” Dipper sighed.

“Oh! Someone new that we haven’t met yet!” Mabel gawked.

“Really?!” Dipper gasped, eyes wide.

“Yeah, look!” Mabel said, pointing at someone walking by the apartment block. “Let’s go say hi!” Mabel said, speeding off.

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper said, hurrying after her.

The person walked up to the door, grabbing their bag and key for the door. “Hiya!” Mabel greeted, making them jolt in surprise.

“Mabel, slow down!” Dipper said, catching up.

“Oh, uh, Hi…?” They greeted nervously.

“I’m Mabel! This is my brother, Dipper! We saw you walking by and wanted to say hi!” Mabel grinned. The person dripped nervously.

“Isn’t that lovely…?” They said sheepishly.

“Mabel, come on, we can’t just say hello to everyone…! I am so sorry about her, she gets excited when she sees a person she’s never met before.” Dipper apologized.

“O-Oh, no, i-i-it’s fine..!” They said.

“What’s your name, stranger?” Mabel asked. They dripped more in worry.

“Uh...H...Hunter.” Hunter said shyly.

“Hunter! That’s a nice name!” Mabel grinned.

“Mabel…!” Dipper urged.

“Whoops! Gotta go! If ya wanna see us, just go to the Mystery Shack just up the road and ask for Mabel and Dipper Pines!” Mabel said, waving goodbye and following Dipper. Hunter froze, hurrying inside with everything she had, closing and locking the door behind her as she got in.

“Pines...that can’t be coincidence…” Hunter muttered to herself, putting her bag down and going to grab a picture frame from a shelf. “Maybe...Maybe...Maybe not…” Hunter hummed.

(At the shack.)

“Grunkle Stan! We met someone new today!” Mabel announced.

“Yowza!!” Stan yelped, jumping slightly at the surprise yelling.

“Oops! Sorry, didn’t mean to spook ya!” Mabel grinned.

“Who’d ya meet?” Stan asked.

“Just someone named Hunter. They seemed shifty, couldn’t see their face since they had their hoodie hood up.” Dipper said.

“Hunter? Hoodie?” Stan repeated under his breath.

“Yeah, what about it?” Dipper asked.

“Nothing, nothing. Where’d ya meet em?” Stan asked.

(At Hunter’s apartment.)

Stan knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. After a few minutes, the door opened, Hunter answering.

“Yello?” Hunter asked.

“Hunter, is that you?” Stan asked.

“Wait...STANLEY? Stanley Pines?” Hunter asked.

“The one and only~!” Stan grinned.

“When I heard Mipper and Dabel-” Hunter started.

“Dipper and Mabel.” Stan corrected.

“I stan corrected. Dipper and Mabel said they were Pines family, I thought it was just a coincidence! I didn’t think you were ACTUALLY living here! Not after…” Hunter trailed off.

“Yeesh, don’t remind me…” Stan grimaced.

(Flashback.)

“Hunter, it’ll be okay, I promise! In and out, nothin more!” Stan assured.

“I dunno…” Hunter mumbled. Stan knocked, shrugging.

“WHO ARE YOU?!? HAVE YOU COME TO TAKE MY EYES?!?” Ford snapped, opening the door, crossbow at the ready. Hunter yelped, Stan getting in front of her in case Ford decided to open fire.

“....Well THAT’S a friendly welcome.” Stan said sarcastically.

“Stanley...Hunter.” Ford frowned. Ford put the crossbow away, moving aside. “Sorry I called you here unexpectedly, I just needed someone-” Ford started.

“AHEM.” Stan cleared his throat, gesturing towards Hunter.

“TWO someones to do something for me.” Ford corrected.

“What is it?” Stan asked.

“I’m about to show you something none of you will believe.” Ford said, opening the way to the basement.

“Ehhh, I’ve been around the world. I’m sure I’ll understand!” Stan smiled.

Ford took the two down to the basement to the portal. “I understand NOTHING about this.” Stan said.

“It’s an interdimensional portal that acts as a gateway to various alternate worlds. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe, but it can be used for TERRIBLE destruction. The way to activate it is located in the three journals I have written. The first one has already been hidden,” Ford started, walking over to a table and picking up two journals. “I am giving the last ones to you two, as I trust only you two with them.” Ford explained, handing them to Hunter and Stan.

“O-Okay…!” Hunter nodded.

“Wait, so what do we do with them?” Stan asked, confused.

“Stan, remember when we were kids and we wanted to go on a boat around the world?” Ford asked. Stan grinned expectantly. “I want you two to get on a boat, take these with you, and sail as far away as possible-to the ends of the earth-and BURY them.” Ford explained, Stan’s grin fading away as he finished.

“What?!? That’s it?!? You FINALLY wanna see me-US-after ten YEARS only to tell us to get as far away from you as POSSIBLE?!” Stan snapped.

“St-Stan, i-i-it’s okay, I-I’m okay with this…!” Hunter stammered.

“Nuh uh, no WAY, Tiny!! We haven’t seen each other in YEARS and he just wants me gone as soon as I see him again?!? I thought we were family!!” Stan snapped.

“Stanley, you don’t understand what I’m up against! What I’ve BEEN through!” Ford stressed.

“NO, YA DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT WE’VE BEEN THROUGH, SIXER!!! HUNTER AND I HAVE BEEN TO PRISON IN THREE DIFFERENT COUNTRIES, WE CAN’T STAY IN A SINGLE COUNTRY FOR MORE THAN TWO YEARS SO WE’RE CONSTANTLY ON THE MOVE, WE HAVE MORE FAKE IDS THAN IS PROBABLY HEALTHY, AND-OH YEAH-MY FAMILY HATES ME BECAUSE I’M A FAILURE, STANFORD!!! MEANWHILE, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! LIVIN’ IT UP IN YOUR FANCY HOUSE IN THE WOODS, SELFISHLY HOARDING YOUR COLLEGE MONEY BECAUSE YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF!!” Stan snapped.

“I’M selfish? I’M SELFISH, Stanley?! How can you say that after costing me my DREAM SCHOOL?!” Ford snapped. “I’m giving you a chance to do the FIRST WORTHWHILE THING in your life, and you won’t even listen!!” Ford snapped. Hunter whimpered, trying to get in between the two.

“G-Guys, st-stop it…!” Hunter begged. Stan picked Hunter up, moving her out of the way and plopping her down on her butt. “Hey!!” Hunter peeped.

“WELL LISTEN TO THIS; YA WANT ME TO GET RID OF THIS BOOK?! FINE, I’LL GET RID OF IT RIGHT NOW!!” Stan said, pulling out a lighter and holding the journal over it.

“No! You don’t understand!!!” Ford yelped.

“YOU SAID YA WANTED ME TO HAVE IT, SO I’LL DO WHAT I WANT WITH IT!!!” Stan snapped.

“No, my research!!!” Ford panicked, tackling Stan, the two fighting over the journal, Stan tripping Ford and grabbing the journal, eventually running into the next room, hitting some machinery, and starting to activate the portal.

“G-Guys, please calm down!” Hunter objected.

“STAY OUT OF THIS, TINY!!! THIS IS JUST BETWEEN ME AND HIM!!!” Stan shouted.

“Stanley, give it back!” Ford snapped.

“IF YA WANT IT BACK, YOU’RE GONNA HAFTA TRY HARDER THAN THAT!!” Stan snapped.

“G-Guys, please…!!” Hunter begged.

“YA LEFT ME BEHIND, YOU JERK!!! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE US FOREVER, YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!!” Stan snapped.

Hunter whimpered in worry, trying to figure out how to stop them fighting.

“You ruined your own life!!” Ford said, shoving Stanley back, pushing him into a piece of machinery, Stan yelling in pain as it burned his back.

“STAN!!!!” Hunter and Ford yelped in unison.

“Stanley, oh my gosh, I-I-I-I’m so sorry, a-are you alrigh-?” Ford asked, getting cut off by Stan punching him and knocking him back towards the portal, hitting the lever to finish activating the portal.

“Some brother YOU turned out to be…” Stan frowned, slowly walking towards Ford.

“Stan, calm down!! You’re hurt!!” Hunter begged.

“You care about your dumb mysteries more than your own family? WELL THEN YOU CAN HAVE ‘EM!!” Stan snapped, shoving the journal back into Ford’s arms, sending him floating off.

“No!!” Ford cried out, panic showing in his voice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, what’s going on?” Stan asked, panic rising.

“Ford!!” Hunter yelped.

“Hey, hey, Stanford!!” Stan yelped, going after Ford.

“Stanley!! Stanley help me!!!” Ford yelped.

“Oh no-WHAT DO I DO?!” Stan asked in a panic.

“Stanley-DO SOMETHING!!” Ford panicked, tossing the journal back out. “STANLEY!!!-” Ford started, getting cut off as the portal closed as he was sucked in, room flooding with a bright light as it closed.

Stan slowly got up, rubbing his head as he registered what happened. “Stanford…?” Stan called, only getting the sound of a glasses frame hitting the stone cold ground in response. Stan was confused, shock hitting as he remembered, running up to the portal frame.

“STANFORD, COME BACK!! I-I-I DIDN’T MEAN IT!!” Stan said, smacking the frame in hopes of reactivating it. Stan ran over to the lever that activated it originally, pulling on it in an attempt to reactivate it. “I JUST GOT HIM BACK, I-I CAN’T LOSE HIM AGAIN!! COME ON!!!” Stan stammered. Stan stopped trying, looking back at the portal frame. “STANFORD!!!!” Stan called.

“He’s gone, Stanley.” Hunter said coldly.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! This is one of his pranks! He’s gonna come out any second now!” Stan said, chuckling nervously.

“This is STANFORD, Stanley. He doesn’t joke about mystery stuff.” Hunter said, voice flat as paper.

“Awww, come on, Hunty…! Ya don’t need to keep me in the dark, you two got m-” Stan started.

“THIS IS SERIOUS, STANLEY PINES!!!” Hunter snapped.

“Hunter, come on, I was just-” Stan started.

“YOU FOUGHT YOUR OWN BROTHER WHO LOVED YOU WITH EVERY FIBER OF HIS BEING AND SENT HIM TO WHO KNOWS WHERE, ALL FOR WHAT PURPOSE?!? OH YEAH, TO BE PETTY!!” Hunter snapped.

Stan frowned. “I didn’t mean to-” Stan started.

“AND YET IT HAPPENED ANYWAY!!” Hunter snapped, Stan looking at the floor. “HE REACHED OUT TO YOU, AND FOR WHAT? YOU TO BACKSTAB HIM FOR NO REASON?! YEAH, SOME BROTHER!” Hunter growled.

“At least I’M not being a big old bee with an itch about it!!!” Stan bit back.

“AT LEAST I’M NOT THE ONE WHO PROBABLY KILLED HIS OWN BROTHER!!!” Hunter snapped.

“YA KNOW WHAT?!? FINE!!! I ALMOST WISH ME AND FORD LEFT YA WITH THOSE PARENTS OF YOURS!!!! THEN MAYBE I WOULDN’T BE FEELING AS HORRIBLE RIGHT NOW!!!” Stan snapped.

“............Heh……….Just as I thought….Just when I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower….You fall down further….” Hunter laughed sadly.

“Hunter, wait, that didn’t come out righ-” Stant started.

“NO, IT’S FINE!!! I KNOW I’M WORTHLESS AND A FAILURE!! I KNOW I SHOULDA DIED LONG AGO!!! I KNOW I’M NOT WORTH A DARN!!” Hunter laughed sadly.

“Hunter, please-I-I-I’m sorry, I-I-I’ll make it up to ya-” Stan started.

“NO NEED, STANLEY!! YOU’RE FINE!!” Hunter snapped. “NOW, IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME,” Hunter said, picking up the second journal. “I HAVE A DUTY TO TEND TO.” Hunter scowled, making eye contact to make sure Stan knew how she felt, sending chills down his spine.

(Present day)

“I...never really saw ya after that…” Stan frowned.

“I think it was understandable why.” Hunter said.

“So…” Stan said.

“So….” Hunter trailed off.

“I’m….I’m sorry.” Stan apologized. Hunter perked up, confused.

“Sorry? For what?” Hunter asked.

“What I...said, that night, I had no place sayin’ those things, especially to you, someone I consider...Family.” Stan winced.

“Stan, I said stuff like that too, I had far LESS of a place to say those things, you REALLY didn’t mean to…!” Hunter peeped.

“Jeez, can a guy get sappy for five seconds?” Stan teased.

“I dunno, can a gal have a chance at having a normal life for five seconds?” Hunter teased back.

“Hey, uh, sorry if this sounds weird or anything, but uh, you never made any motions to shake hands, is everything like...Okay?” Stan asked. Hunter dripped nervously.

“Yep! Fine I’m!” Hunter lied.

“That was sad.” Stan said blankly.

“I….Well…” Hunter stammered.

“Ya sure you’re okay?” Stan asked. Hunter knew he should know, but she didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m sure, your concern IS appreciated, though.” Hunter smiled.

“Well, before I head back to the Mystery Shack, one handshake, for old time’s sake?” Stan asked sheepishly. Hunter hesitated a moment before nodding, holding her hand out, Stan eagerly taking it for a handshake.

“Ew….Your hand feels a lot more...Goopy than usual.” Stan grimaced.

“Ya caught me baking.” Hunter lied.

“Ah! Baking! Good luck with that!” Stan waved. Hunter nodded, waving before closing the door.

As Stan walked home, he noticed the batter was black and almost Ink looking. He could ask about that some other day.

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

Title: His Father’s Heart

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne (some), and OCs

Summary: A priest must have a father's heart, and Fr. Todd has had a good example. Or, the one in which Jason is a priest and starts a school. (a03) 

Note: -shows up 4 months late with Starbucks and too many epigraphs- Happy (extremely belated) birthday to @catie-does-things!!! I finally finished this fic and have 9 pages of a google doc to give you <3 We discussed this once and then I just Ran with it (this fic is also how i learned there is no midnight Angelus???) 

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction....

-James 1:27

“Without confidence and love, there can be no true education. If you want to be loved…you must love yourselves, and make your children feel that you love them.”

“The school was not the end; it was rather the instrumental means for improving the way of life.”

-St. John Bosco

The school that never was supposed to be started with three boys. 

Many would say it was Fr. Todd, who worked tirelessly for the crime, addiction, poverty ravished community he served. But Fr. Todd knew, and he knew God knew as well. 

The school started with three boys, huddling behind the dumpster in the alley adjacent to St. Maria Goretti Catholic Church. 

It was, when Fr. Todd reflected on it, the Hand of God, pushing them where they needed to be, beyond where they thought they ought to be. He was, after all, a diocosean priest, not of a teaching order, and kept plenty busy by the daily happenings of parish life. He had no room in his life for a school. 

He was, though, also very much his father’s son. 

And his father was not the kind of man to leave three, shivering boys in an alley because he was busy. Neither was the Lord, Jason reminded himself, who was in the least of these. 

So he squatted down beside them, enough of a distance they didn’t feel cornered but close enough that he was a presence. And said, “Good evening.”

They were clearly brothers, with the same almond eyes and thick black hair. Even the one whose was curly fit in the set. Hunger made their faces gaunt, but beneath it, if one knew how to look, one could see the same jawline, the same off center nose. 

The oldest one shifted to be in front of his brothers, glaring at Fr. Todd. “Go ‘way,” he said. “I know what you collar people do my momma told me and I say go way.”

Fr. Todd frowned, but kept his face and voice soft. “I promise,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt you. My momma warned me about dangerous men too.”

The boy continued to glare, not convinced. “I have food,” Fr. Todd offered, and the younger boys shifted behind him. Even the oldest betrayed himself with longing in his eyes, though he quickly masked it. “And a warm bed.”

The little ones were sold, but the oldest was smarter. He clearly wanted the food and the bed, but he didn’t trust a stranger.  

Smart enough, Jason thought. He himself hadn’t trusted Batman when they’d first met. 

Better the evil you know, right? 

Jason rocked back on his heels, thinking. “Stay here,” he told them. “I’ll be right back.”

He got up and quickly returned to the rectory. He called the Bishop, waking him up in the middle of the night. Jason, who had requested the exorcist more than any priest in the entire state, had earned that privilege. 

“Almost time for the Angelus,” he said cheerfully, before the bishop warned him about the optics of three boys staying in a priest’s rectory, then added a small lesson of what the Lord would do, contrary to the optics. 

He made a few sandwiches, snagged a couple of water bottles, dumped Fr. Dominic’s hot chocolate from the stove into a thermos, grabbed a blanket, pocketed his cellphone, and made his way back to the alley. 

He sat down, cross-legged, still enough distance the boys didn’t feel trapped. “Here’s the deal,” he said, handing out the sandwiches; the oldest boy didn’t stop the younger ones, but he still eyed the bread and meat in his hand like it was poisoned. “You can let me help you or I’m going to have to call someone else who can. 

“The cops?” asked the littlest one, and Jason nodded. “I can’t leave you out here. It’s going to drop below freezing tonight. I have a contact with GCPD, but I won’t lie to you, if we go that route, likely you’ll end up in a group home and the foster system, if they can’t find your mom or she isn’t able to take care of you.”

“She’s dead,” the oldest said abruptly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. He knew what that was like, to find your mother dead, to have nobody else.  After a pause, he added, “When my mom died, my adopted father caught me stealing the hubcaps off his car.”

The middle one laughed a little and Jason smiled at him. “It was pretty scary, but he turned out to be a good man. He’ll help you, too, if you let him.”

“We don’t  need  help,” the oldest boy asserted. The sandwich seemed to give him strength and he glowered at Jason again. “I told you.”

“That’s not one of the choices,” Jason said. 

“Who’s your dad?” the middle one piped up. 

The older boy threw him a dirty look, but Jason answered, “Bruce Wayne.” 

The little one leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “He knows Batman.” 

Jason whispered conspiratorially back, “So do I.”

That, more than anything, sold the younger two. Even the older, still wary, agreed to come back to the rectory with him.

Fr. Dominic was awake, grading papers at the table. He eyed the three small boys, smiled, and said, “I was so sure my hot chocolate went to a good cause and looks like I was right. Who do we have here?”

The oldest boy gave his younger brother’s a stern look, one that looked out of place on his young face, but they ignored him. The littlest piped up that his name was Joey and Liam was the middle and his biggest brother was Tucker. Dominic shook each of their hands solemnly, even Tucker’s, and then let Jason slip away to make a phone call.

Dominic was still awake when Bruce Wayne showed up in Lululemon joggers and a henley at the rectory and deposited a sleeping nephew into Jason’s arms.

“Since I’m a good Catholic and all,” Dominic said, “I won’t say there are too many kids. Just seems like a lot for a rectory at 1am.”  

“We’re night people,” Jason said apologetically, raising his eyebrows at Bruce.

“Dick’s sick,” Bruce explained as Johnny snuggled his head into the crook of Jason’s shoulder. “And Barbara’s out of town. I couldn’t get out of the Mansion without this one tagging along.”

He held up a bag and said, “It should be enough clothes for a couple of days. I swung through the store and got some toothbrushes too.”

“You’re a blessing,” Jason said, stepping back to let Bruce in. 

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement. Then muttered something about needing a throat blessing before he caught whatever illness Dick had come down with. It was, apparently, hitting him hard.

“St. Blaise’s Feast Day isn’t for a few months, but I think I know a guy who could hook you up,” Jason teased, shutting the door and following him towards the kitchen.

Dominic had gone ahead of them, and his grading had turned into discussing the religion test questions with the younger two boys while their brother watched from his place leaned against the counter.

Tucker eyed Jason and Bruce as they came into the room, and Tommy in Jason’s arms. “Who’s that?” he demanded.

“Nephew,” Jason told him. Jerked his head at Bruce as an introduction, but Bruce beat him to it, holding out a large hand and saying “Bruce Wayne.”

Tucker did not shake it, eyeing Bruce suspiciously. As Bruce dropped his hand, the kid said, abruptly, “My momma used to work for you. ‘Fore she got sick.”

It was the most he’d said after telling Jason to go away, and it was the type of thing Bruce would take personally.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help her,” Bruce said after a moment. “I would like to help you now.”

When the boy didn’t answer, Jason gestured to the bag and said, “Bruce brought some clothes for you to change into after you clean up. You can take my room for the night, the bathroom’s attached.”

Tucker eyed them like he was waiting for the catch, but when none came, he abruptly moved away from the counter to usher Liam away from Dominic and snatch up Joey’s hand. He glared at the adults as he shut the door to Jason’s room behind them, as if daring any of them to try anything. 

“You were that defensive,” Bruce reminded him quietly, so that Dominic couldn’t hear. “When we first met.”

Jason knew. He’d been cocky and brash, but it had never really covered up the fact that he’d been a distrustful 11 year old who didn’t really know how to look out for himself. 

“I got ahold of Jim,” Bruce continued, louder. “Said he’d send a social worker in the morning but odds were in my favor of being able to foster while they sort it out.”

“Gordon can’t decide that,” Jason muttered, with a head shake, but the way Gotham rolled, the commissioner did have a lot of influence.

“Do you need me to stay?” Bruce asked. He glanced at Dominic, then took a step forward and settled his hand on Jason’s shoulder. 

Jason smiled at him. “I think I can survive on a couch for one night.”

“He slept on a cafeteria floor at last year’s high school retreat,” Dominic piped up. 

“Kid forgot his sleeping bag,” Jason said with a shrug, shifting his nephew’s weight. Johnny had crashed since getting here and was dead weight in Jason’s arms, drooling slightly on his shoulder. 

Jason caught Bruce’s eye, who smiled a little. They both knew Jason had slept on harder than a cafeteria floor before.

“I’ll come back in the morning,” Bruce said. 

Jason raised his eyebrows higher. “For Mass,” Bruce agreed. He paused, and added, “Alfred will send food I’m sure.” 

“Yes,” Dominic cheered quietly, raising a hand in victory. 

He rose to lay his hands on Bruce and Johnny with Jason, to offer them a blessing before they left.

“You know,” Dominic said thoughtfully, after they were gone, watching the closed door of Jason’s room, behind which the shower was still running, “those kids are smart. Think Bruce would enroll them at St. Xavier?”

Jason frowned. “It’s far from Wayne Manor. He’d do it, but I don’t know how the kids would like that commute.”

“Far from here too,” Dominic agreed. He yawned and stretched as if to prove his point. “Speaking of, I should get some sleep. Take my bed, I’ll take the couch.”

But Jason shook his head. “I want them to be able to find me if they need to.”

***************

 It took a long time for the boys to settle in with Bruce as a foster; the younger two settled better They’d had to switch out of their public schools because they were not districted there anymore. They hadn’t been to school in  a while anyway, Jason gathered. 

There was plenty of catching up for them to do, Dominic somehow found time to tutor them in between his own papers and gradings and other priestly duties. 

The boys, like the rest of Jason’s family, became a semi-permanent fixture at the rectory.  

*************** 

That was how it started. There was Dominic’s numerous mentions of St. Xavier being too far away, of the boys’ intelligence, the need for a more individualized approach that private school would afford.

There was the lady at the parish who sobbed to Fr. Todd one morning that she could not afford Catholic school and her district was not a good place for her children--no education, she said, just violence. She was scared they’d join a gang or start using drugs. St. Xaxier had scholarships to offer, but it wasn’t enough, and she had no way of getting her kids to school so far away. 

“St. Maria Goretti parish has always been in the thick of the throes of poverty,” Fr. Paul, the pastor, had said gravely when Jason had mentioned it to him later. 

There was the altar boy who tarried too long at the church after Mass, following Fr. Todd like a duckling, asking theological questions. He never wanted to go home and sometimes sat on the church steps doing math homework until Jason let him inside to pray. 

There was the 17-year-old drug dealer Officer Grayson picked up off the streets; Dick got him set up with a WE program but conditionally that he stop dealing and earn a high school degree, but going back to high school hadn’t put him in the best environment, and he was dealing again within the year. 

There was child after child, and family after family, who needed something more.  

***************

Cardinal Tolan was the one who first brought up the school. Fr. Paul was retiring, and Jason appointed pastor in his leave. 

“The Nashville Dominican sisters are looking in this area to open a school,” the cardinal said. “I think maybe St. Maria Goretti parish could be benefited by that.”

Jason nodded. “A boys school,” he said, as way of agreement. “We’ll need one for the girls as well. The Sisters will know what to do.” 

“We have a donor,” Cardinal Tolan added, thoughtfully. “I’m sure he has enough for two.”

“And boarding,” Jason said, thinking hard. “We’ll need housing for some of them. Students need to feel like it’s home.” 

Cardinal Tolan looked at him a long time, then said, “Truly, you have a heart after the Father’s.”

“I had a good example,” Jason replied, flushing a little. 

***************

It was another two years before the school was built. The sisters moved in, Fr. Todd was appointed chaplain, and the first year saw only 15 students from 9-12th grade, Tucker among them. 

He’d been the most resistant to Bruce and Fr. Todd over the years, though Jason accepted that he loved as best he could. His brothers adored them, more than Jason anticipated. They’d become altar boys at St. Maria Goretti’s as soon as they’d been able, and had cried when CPS had finally tracked down an aunt nearby to take them in.

They stayed in contact throughout the years. They continued in their service as altar boys, and had dinner at least twice a month with Bruce. Jason usually joined, when obligations allowed him. 

When the school opened, their aunt enrolled Tucker, the only one high school aged, right away. Full scholarship, she’d told a bewildered Jason, who knew the diocese hadn’t been able to set up any scholarships yet. 

Leave it to Bruce, he thought ruefully. 

*************** 

By the time the schools were ready to open younger grades, Joey and Liam were ready for high school, and they joined Tucker, now a senior,  at Maria Goretti’s. The younger ones were still rambunctious, but Tucker had grown into a rather solemn young man. He frequently did his homework at Jason’s kitchen table, mouthing quietly to himself or asking Fr. Dominic to read over his papers, while the younger boys played sports or just waited for their aunt to be off work and pick them up. 

He graduated salutatorian with a full ride to Catholic University in DC. 

Jason, handing out diplomas at his graduation while the school secretary announced names, didn’t cry a bit when Tucker shook his hand, and then leaned in to whisper, “thank you.” 

He did look out and find Bruce, caught his gaze, and smile. 

Bruce understood.

***************

Two years later and new Masters degree to join the one he already had, Fr. Todd was appointed principal and chaplain of the school. He’d been involved from the start, as the parish pastor, but now he took even more responsibility. 

“Should’ve been a Salesian,” the cardinal teased, when he told Jason.  

Fr. Todd laughed and shook his head, “Maybe a Domican at that. But God saw fit to use a simple parish priest.” 

***************

Four years later, Tucker sat in his rectory, a month out from his college graduation.  

Bruce had been over for dinner but Tucker declined a ride home to his aunt’s. There had been something on his mind all night, Jason knew. He’d danced around the issue of a post-graduate career, awkwardly steered the conversation away from a Wayne Enterprise job waiting for him as soon as he said the word. 

It wasn’t until Bruce left, after exchanging a significant look with Jason, and Jason had poured them a rather heavy nightcap, that Tucker blurted out, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “Will you wrote me a recommendation for seminary?” 

Fr. Todd lowered his glass and blinked at the boy in front of him. Now 22, Jason could still see the small defiant, malnourished boy that had huddled in his alleyway. Something like pride and warmth rose up in his chest. Had this been how Bruce felt, all those years ago, when Jason himself had given up the red hood for a white collar? 

After a long pause, Fr. Todd managed, “For here or for Mount St. Mary’s?”

Tucker looked up, surprised. “Here,” he said firmly. And still too much of a hooligan, finished what could have stayed unspoken, “obviously.”

Jason said, “Of course.”

He took a sip of his scotch, suddenly feeling the prick of tears at his eyes, and looking at the young man before him, remembered a little boy hiding behind a dumpster on a cold winter night, and then a little boy stealing hubcaps off the Batmobile, and then man God had sent him to save his life. 

[kaioken16]

Candy Time (Mallek Week Day 6)

Day 6: Trickster!Mallek for @mallekweek. I had fun writing this short piece. A little late because of work all day, and last night I was drunk for my 25th XD. Anyway, the plot of this fic is MSPA reader encountering a recently turned Trickster Mallek who is eager to turn his friend to his new way of thinking with Zack on his way to help them...

Some notes, one of my headcanons for the MSPA is that their non-binary and uses they/them, so I’ll be referring to them as such.

I’ve also attached a google doc link since I’ve added colour to Trickster!Mallek’s lines.

Word count: 1384 Rating: Everyone Characters: Mallek Adalov, MSPA reader, OC

The player was lying face down on the ground. Slowly moving around, regaining their consciousness. The area they were in something out of a sugar-filled dream. The ground was rainbow colours, the sky was purple and pink clouds. Objects that looked like skittles were floating around the air. Actually, there was candy of all kinds scattered around the floor, hovering the air. But just ahead of the player, just out of their reach was a radio, and like them, it was out of place with this candy land. Just then it went off, a buzzing noise which made the small being, groan out. Finally, he was awake, lifting his head up slowly. Their vision blurry at first, rubbing their head in slight pain.

Where the hell are they? and why was all bright and colourful… A pair of shades and some painkillers would be REAL helpful right about now. Staggering to their feet, and getting a better view of their unknown surroundings. They weren’t on Earth anymore. Or Alternia for that matter. Was this a place like Prospit and Derse, with the abstract colours and shit. The sound of feedback coming from the radio walkie-talkie which caught their attention. They remember now, they got this from Zack. Picking it up and then pressed the button on the side, and spoke softly into it.

Hello?

They answered the voice on the other end of the device. Greeting them.

Oh good, you’re still alive, and you sound normal too.

This was Zack’s voice, and what did he mean he still sounded normal? What’s was going on, where are they exactly?

Alright listen to me, I don’t have too much time so please listen carefully.

You and Mallek stumbled onto a certain object, it looks like a lollypop with a red and green swirl.

Wait, Mallek was somewhere here?! Where is he? Why wasn’t he here with him?

Listen to me, until I find a way to retrieve you guys, don’t touch anything!

Don’t eat any of the candy whatsoever!

And if you find Mallek, stay away from him until the trickster mode wears off.

Trickster mode? What was he talking about… Why did he have to keep away from Mallek.

Just one hour, you have to keep hidden for an hour, stay low. You’re good at that.

D-Don’t let Mallek find you, or touch you okay.

Wait, what’s actually going on right now?! Zack wasn’t being clear to him, and they had more questions, then suddenly static was coming through the device.

Shit! I’m getting interference… S-S-Stay…!>!> Af-Afterr///-

Before Zack could finish the radio cut out. The player began smacking his hand against the side of the device. Looking around again for any sign of his friend, nothing but candy and flashing colours. Quietly sighing, putting the radio away in their hoodie pocket. They began walking, deciding to venture around this place while taking Zack’s warning to keep hidden and to stay keep hidden from Mallek while looking for him. How did they and Mallek even get here? The last thing they remembered was the three of them on Zack’s ship. While the human was working on something, Mallek and they were going through the stuff Zack had stored on the ship from his travels across the multiverse.

The duo found a box, it was a small pink treasure chest with several warning labels attached it. So, of course, they and Mallek opened without consequences, there was some kind of explosion, or something big. A blinding white light and then colourful lights, and a sweet smell, then they woke here in this place. Really, they shouldn’t go around possibly dangerous objects that could kill them and their friends. They hoped Mallek is okay wherever he, and that he’s safe. Continuing on for another mile, everything looked the same. Sighing the player sat down on the surprisingly soft ground, they didn’t have a watch so they couldn’t check how long it had been, but it hadn’t long enough to be an hour yet.

Perking their head up, they could’ve sworn they heard something, like a rustling. Crap there weren’t any wild animals here… What kind of creature could survive in this sugar-filled wonderland? They didn’t wanna find out. There it was again, clear now, something was moving through the nearby bushes, then they heard another sound. Something that sent a chill down their spine. Giggling, strange giggling… There was more movement in the bushes and giggling. Foolish they slowly got to their feet, and like a bigger idiot called out the source of the noise, asking whose out there.

At that moment something yellow poked out of the bush, but it was weird… Why did it look familiar, it was like a horn or tooth, but it had some orange rings attached to it. Wait…

“FOUND YA!!!;;;”Mallek popped out the bush, his loud voice and jumping out suddenly made the player fall back in shock. A look of confusion, it was Mallek but he looked different. Really different.

His skin was grey but with a blue hue in it. His hair and clothes were bright blue, all his piercings were orange now, he had swirling marks on his cheeks, and some kind of bottle attached to the side of his head. His eyes were flashing colours, a wide grin on his face as he hopped out of the bush, landing in front of them.

“LIL’ buddy! I've been LOOKING FOR YA!;;;” Mallek’s voice was erratic and wild, as he scooped the player up, holding him under his arms.

“I’M SOOOOOO GLAD I FOUND YOU!!!!!!!;;;” He then started spinning while holding the other, they were trying to ask Mallek was happened to him, and what he was doing.

“FRIEND, NO NEED TO WORRY! THIS IS GOING TO BE A PLEASURABLE EXPERIENCE!!;;;” He leaned in close, sticking his tongue out and winking at the player, What kind of acid trip was this?! Remembering what Zack told him, he couldn’t have direct contact with Mallek.

The player, squirming around in his hoodie, dropping out of it made a run for it, Mallek blinking at the spare hoodie he gave to the other like a cartoon character looked at the now-empty hoodie and his friend running away. He began hovering in the air and flew after the other, looking back to see the colourful horror that Mallek now was coming after him, grinning as wide as he could. Mallek pulled a tall lollipop out of thin air, spinning it around like a weapon. It was red and green and swirling. Shit, why couldn’t Zack have told them more about this, was it some kind of disease, well whatever it was he could let Mallek touch his bare skin or eat any of the candy… But now without their hoodie, they were more exposed.

“COME OOOOONNNNNN!!! DON’T BE SCAREDDDD!!!! JUST ONE LICK OF THIS AND YOU’LL FEEL HAPPY ALL THE TIME!” Mallek yelling out, spinning around in the air.

“OR I LICK YOU, EITHER WAY, SOMETHING GONNA GET LICKED!” The trickster troll added, laughing at his own words.

A distance away, Zack had arrived onto the planet that had been partially transformed by Mallek’s trickster form powers. It was easy to spot on this red planet, with a rainbow spot slowly expanding. He saw Mallek chasing over the player, and a sigh of annoyance left his mouth. Under his arm was the same pink chest that the idiots had opened up, it contained a candy juju that caused a trickster transformation upon anyone who licked it. After they opened it the explosion sent them to this random planet, and Mallek must’ve found the juju and its powerful aura compelled him to lick it resulting in this chaos.

The box was a powerful containment field to keep it sealed forever. All Zack had to do was get a few feet close to Mallek and open the box again and it would suck the cursed juju back inside and revert Mallek back to normal. Easy and simple, but seeing the other being chased all over by the troll made him smirk. He was gonna help them, but not just yet. This could be a learning experience for both of them to leave things alone and not to touch objects that read: DON’T TOUCH!

[writtenbyhappynerds]

Fanfiction 101 Unit 2: Formatting and Text

Ok. So we’ve established the rules of the universe, which is a fancy phrase that means set parameters that meet the standards of the world and stick to them to keep continuity and cohesion. Before we continue onward, let’s talk about the thing that will absolutely make any new reader click off immediately: bad formatting.

       Bad formatting can really make or break your fanfiction and there is no excuse for it. Even if the fanfiction is the next Brave New World, if I as a reader don’t have breaks in the paragraphs when the scene changes or someone new is talking, I will not sit through it. I’m not going to try and sort through what is going on, and who’s talking. On top of that, bad formatting looks bad on the author. It looks like you don’t care enough about your story to use good paragraphs, grammar, and punctuation. Fortunately, there is a solution. Grammarly’s beta is free. You can add it as an extension to google chrome. Write your fanfiction in google docs and let it correct your grammar for you. This series is checked for grammar by not only my Editor but Grammarly. However, grammar is just half the battle.

       A break in paragraphs, ie: a new paragraph appears when there is a change in who is speaking, in location, or in action. You should start a new paragraph when there is a new idea, when your readers need a break, and when you want to present contrasting information.

       When we say, “new idea,” we mean the same thing as a change in location or action. If Leonardo and Raphael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have been sitting in the sewers for five minutes and now are going to the surface, you would start a new paragraph to demonstrate that change in an idea.

       When we say, “your readers need a break,” we mean that walls of text are a bit daunting and not pleasurable to look at. If you find yourself having a large wall of text, you can look through to find new or alternating ideas-- showing information that is different from one another also works for new paragraphs, and these can break up a mass of text into something more appealing to the eye and easy to read. Formatting is important, and another thing that is important is text.

       I’m going be blunt: Pinterest lied to you. Tumblr also lied to you. Every verb that is describing the way someone talks or someone moves does not need to be unique. Every verb also does not need an adjective describing it. Writing can get very, My Immortal that way, which, if you don’t know what that is, it's the most iconically bad piece of fanfiction of all time and the Internet Historian has a 3-part series acting out only a chunk of it. However, as the author John Scalzi once said, “to ignore [popularly bad works] is to ignore why they are successful and what we can learn from them.” What we can learn from My Immortal is that extremely specific descriptions of clothing, links to makeup/outfits/hair, and using an adjective and unique verb every time a character moves across the room or speaks is clunky and decreases the quality of a narrative. It’s amateur writing.

       I’m sure you’ve seen the charts. They’re all over Pinterest, and some are on Tumblr: ‘200 words to use instead of ‘says’’ and ‘100 ways to say ‘went’’. These charts are useful to a point. As a writer, you should not pull a new word from those charts every time a character is moving. It makes the writing awkward. It makes it clunky and uncomfortable, and the reader notices it. As readers, we don’t need the tone of something shoved down our throats every ten seconds. If every means of speaking is unique, none of them are.

       In addition, when it comes to speech your characters should have differing voices. You don’t need every line to clue us in to who’s speaking. It can slow down the text. To improve the use of ‘said’ work on developing unique voices, because you’ll find you use them often. It can even work in rooms with many characters. As an example, I’ll show you an Avengers fanfiction, where five of my OCs have been trapped in Loki’s cell. The first example will have every dialogue followed by a unique descriptor for speaking, and an adjective. The second example will have just ‘said’ and a footnote of who is speaking. The third will be as it is written.

**

Example One: descriptor + adjective:

“What, are you the kind mother-figure meant to bring us under your natural authority? Get that first-year psych-student bullshit out of here.” Duncan taunted merrily.

“Please,” Naomi added quietly, coming to rest by Duncan.

“Yes. Please.” Jano murmured low. “B, what was her request anyway?”

“That we stop calling Nicky a pirate. Also probably Nicky.” Bianca surmised aloud. Micah snorted from his position across the room.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen-” interjected Micah quickly.

“Absolutely not,” exclaimed Naomi.

“Have you all gone mad?” questioned Jano confused, “We call it like we see it.” Bianca held her arms out and smiled.

“It’s not just me.” She simpered with a smirk. “A spade’s a spade lady. I don’t do power moves.”

“Noted,” grunted Romanoff, who left the room.

“Get better material!” Duncan shouted cheerily as she left the room. He looked down to see Barton still there. “Are you the bad cop now?”

**

Example Two: ‘said’:

“What, are you the kind mother-figure meant to bring us under your natural authority? Get that first-year psych-student bullshit out of here,” said Duncan.

“Please,” added Naomi.

“Yes. Please,” said Jano. “B, what was her request anyway?”

“That we stop calling Nicky a pirate. Also probably Nicky,” said Bianca. Micah snorted from his position across the room.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen-” said Micah

“Absolutely not,” said Naomi.

“Have you all gone mad?” said Jano. “We call it like we see it.” Bianca held her arms out and smiled.

“It’s not just me,” she said with a smirk. “A spade’s a spade lady. I don’t do power moves.”

“Noted,” said Romanoff.

“Get better material!” said Duncan as she left the room. He looked down to see Barton still there. “Are you the bad cop now?”

**

Example Three: stripped back:

“What, are you the kind mother-figure meant to bring us under your natural authority? Get that first-year psych-student bullshit out of here.”

“Please.”

“Yes. Please,” said Jano. “B, what was her request anyway?”

“That we stop calling Nicky a pirate. Also probably Nicky.” Micah snorted from his position across the room.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Have you all gone mad? We call it like we see it.” Bianca held her arms out and smiled.

“It’s not just me. A spade’s a spade lady. I don’t do power moves.”

“Noted. Romanoff left the room.

“Get better material!” Duncan looked down to see Barton still there. “Are you the bad cop now?”

**

       Do you see the difference? The first one is clunky and doesn’t fit. Some of the verbs and adjectives don’t even make sense together, which is an issue I see on its own. It slows down, and clogs up the pace of the scene and makes it drag instead of pulling it forward. Adjectives can be used to your advantage, but save them when you want to slow things down. Don’t be afraid to use ‘said’ it doesn’t make you basic, it makes your writing easier.

       The second example is better than the first but still awkward. When you compare the second and the third examples you see that not every line of dialogue needs its own note as to who’s speaking. If Jano asks a question, we can assume as readers Bianca is going to answer it. If Micah laughs or snorts across the room, we assume he’s speaking next. From this small snippet, more of each character’s personality can be expanded on and their voice can be distinguished. Naomi speaks in very short one-word sentences. That’s her voice. Bianca is louder. Jano speaks with the Queen’s English. Duncan tries to joke. Something I do when I write characters is give them a couple of cues in their speech unique to them. Maybe Micah starts his sentences with ‘uh’ a lot. Maybe Duncan never shuts up and has longer, run-on sentences. These are things that can distinguish your characters’ voices, and make each one unique. They shouldn’t all sound the same. The third example, also in comparison to the second and first, is much easier to read. It takes less time to get through it, and the dialogue goes down smoothly. You want your writing to go down like that. It should be smooth, and easy to read, and formatted in a way that is easy for the audience.

       Let’s move on to links and descriptions. Clothing is very tricky. I myself, am a former Polyvore hoe. That shit was my jam, and I spent so much time making outfits. Some of them may or may not still be up in my stories. However, we are better than that. I understand a desire to want to describe every inch of clothing, but it makes for a wall of text that is frankly boring to scroll through. It can be done but shortened. For example, if you’re writing a Percy Jackson fanfic, and the character is at Camp Half-blood, I’m going to assume they’re wearing the same summer camp attire that everyone else does: orange t-shirt, shorts, necklace. Give me something that no one else would be wearing. Tell me they’re wearing their bronze bracelet because it has their weapon. Tell me they’ve defaced their t-shirt and sprayed graffiti over the logo. The same is true for Harry Potter. If the character is wearing a uniform, we don’t as readers need to know as much what they have on. We can assume it’s what everyone else is wearing because it's a uniform. You can still show personality through the way they put their hair up. Or their shoes. Look at the novel The Hate U Give. The main character wore a school uniform, and the author then took the time to describe the model and brand of her shoes, because that was both unique to that character and told us something about her personality. A recent Harry Potter fanfic I just read made a point to describe when the character had unique makeup looks, or when she was wearing a stolen sweater, because those pertained to her personality and the relationships around her.

       There are exceptions, of course to clothing. A big one is superhero costumes. However, much like abbreviations in text, you only need to describe it once. So, if I have a superhero and I say she wears… a sleeveless leotard with her logo on the chest, long black pants, and a black domino mask to hide her eyes when she fights crime, for the rest of the story, unless her costume changes from that description, all I have to say is: she put on her uniform. Save yourself some time.

       Now, in regards to links to hair, makeup, and even characters. We all can do better. You are too good of a writer to be linking away what your character’s hair and makeup are. It’s also not hard. Describe the brown smokey eye. Tell me it’s a cut-crease. Say they glued on false eyelashes and put on a red lip. Tell me their eyeliner wing could cut a man. Not everyone is a pro makeup artist, and even if you tell me their makeup isn’t the best, you still can reveal something more about their personality. A girl or boy or nonbinary friend who takes the time to meticulously perfect a cut crease and put on fake eyelashes for the ball is different than the person who pops on a red lip and some mascara and calls it a day. You then make two more hints at personality, rather than just giving your audience a photo. The pictures you use as a reference as authors should be for you and you alone. In your mind, this is what it looks like. As a writer, you have to communicate that image to the reader.

       Links to characters are something I’m guilty of. I checked my Psycho-Pass fanfic before I wrote this section, and yup… they’re still there, and I’m not taking them down anytime soon. That crap’s cringe. Pure cringe. And there’s a good way and a bad way to do it, and the bad way is smack-dab in the middle of the story when you introduce a character. It’s lazy, it takes the reader out of the immersion, and it makes the author look bad. Yes, I am roasting myself. No, I don’t care. This needs to be said. In my Psycho-Pass fanfic, I do it twice: the first is when a sniper is trying to shoot down my OC. The way to rectify that high-intensity situation is to just describe the bare basics. Young woman. Long hair. Giant gun. That’s all the reader needs to know at that moment. The other time I do it, is when a character is going to pick up the OC from the police station. That is a less intense scene, and I as an author can take my time and describe the older man with salt-and-pepper hair who smelled like cigarettes and had a scar that cut through his smile. Notice in both descriptions, I stay away from what each person is wearing. To tie back to before, it doesn’t matter as much. The reader can imagine what a young assassin is wearing when she’s trying to kill a crime lord. The reader can also imagine what that crime lord’s exasperated keeper looks like. I don’t as an author need to spell those things out for you.

       Stock images and reference images of characters are great. They let you as a reader visualize what these characters look like in comparison to everyone else. However, the images and pictures of characters are only for you. You have to be able to communicate the vibe, appearance, and aesthetic of your world. For example, many of my own characters have their own Pinterest pages filled with aesthetic-y images, outfits, and face claims. These images are for no one else but me. They will never be seen by my readers, they will never be checked by the Editor. They are for me and me alone, so that I can check on one board and remember the vibe and personality I am going for with a specific character. These Pinterest boards are reference images, and as such, they are for me and me alone.

       As mentioned, there are acceptable ways to insert images in fanfiction, should you choose to. I don’t believe these are necessary, but if you so desire you can put a little link in the author’s notes or as the footer of your story. Let those lead to the main characters. Next week we will talk more in-depth about face claims and how every fanfiction writer needs to leave Emily Rudd alone and let her live her life. Formatting is the quickest turnoff to a new reader sticking around. Change your paragraphs when necessary, keep your verbs simple, make your voices distinct, and reference images are for your eyes only: use your words.

       If you are interested in additional supplemental instruction, here is the archived My Immortal fanfiction from 2008ish. It is the worst fanfiction ever written and should serve as an example to you all of what not to do. 

https://myimmortalrehost.webs.com/

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode 5: Night of the Living Dread

View on Google Docs

Summary: July 1, 2015 - Sammy & Ben learn of some breaking news regarding the Lake Hatchenhaw John Doe, but not everyone is as pleased as the broadcast duo.

[Podcast intro music]

Announcer Dear listeners, please note that the following program may contain views that do not reflect that of King Falls AM, its management, or its subsidiaries. Listener discretion is advised.

[KFAM intro music]

Sammy You’re listening to King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the radio dial. I’m your host, Sammy Stevens, and as always we are joined by producer and co-host extraordinaire, Ben Arnold.

Ben [trying not to be amused] You’re so- you’re so happy, aren’t you? You’re a child. Getting so giddy over that message.

Sammy Listening to a warning before a radio broadcast I’m on has literally been on the bucket list for a long time. Thanks Merv!

Ben *laughter* Ridiculous. A glutton for punishment.

Sammy What can I say? I enjoy a nice game of hard ball! Uh, y’know, but enough about what Merv doesn’t want you to hear, let’s talk about what he does want you to hear. And what do we have cooking tonight, Ben?

Ben Dude, it’s stacked alright? Stacked. We’ve got the- lovely Miss Emily Potter from the King Falls Library giving us her picks for enlightened summer reading.

Sammy Terrific! We always love speaking with Emily!

Ben You and me both.

Sammy I said “we,” Ben.

Ben Uh, I know. I- *breathes in* [stilted] I- We-We-uh, We’ve got some really cool news! here. We-we are announcing the line-up for the first annual King Falls Ambient Music Festival. That’s coming up the second hour.

Sammy Wait a second. The King Falls Ambient Music Festival? Is this town even big enough for a festival?

Ben Oh yeah! It’s like Coachella[1] but for hipsters that just want to relax. It’s all about “setting the mood.”

Sammy You know, I’m wondering if they’re gonna make it to a second annual.

Ben And then, um, [reluctant and slipping into mumbling] opening up the show we-we’ve got the- doctor *mumbling*

Sammy I-I’m sorry, Ben, what was that? You’re trailing off, buddy.

Ben We have that umm, *sniffs, lets out breath* one… guy. You know that- fo- w- talking about that *deep breath* one thing—

Sammy [trying to cut him off] Ben—

Ben —from a month ago or so—?

Sammy What? What are you talking about?

Ben You know— May- maybe we should start it with Uh, callers first! [mildly frantic] Just-uh-Give us a call at 424-279-3858 and let’s talk about… *tsk* anything! Let’s uh, whats your-whats your-whats-whats on your mind King Falls?

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, put down your phones for a second. What Ben is trying to say is we’ve got a scoop here this evening on King Falls AM. We’re gonna be speaking with—

Ben [cutting Sammy off]Or you can tweet us! @kingfallsam. I-I-I will literally talk about anything right now. Even to Mr. Derschwitz about that weird toenail thing. Let-lets-lets go, people!

Sammy I thought we agreed—

Ben I know. Sammy, I’m sorry it’s just, [slightly more frantic] I’m-I’m not feelin’ the best here. Alright? my stomach, is all… knotted up, just thinking about this.

Sammy That is journalism. That feeling is journalism—

Ben [speaking over Sammy] I think it might actually be an ulcer! It Tastes, like Fear and Feels, like Cancer . It’s way more than anxiety. I-I’m gonna call Dr. Raúl, at break.

Sammy He’s a chiropractor!

Ben Maybe he can refer me?

Sammy Power through it, buddy! Look at this folks, we got somebody dialing into the hotline right now! You ready for this Ben? Come on.

Ben Please, be Reverend Hawthorne so we can talk about the Revival next month.

Sammy Oh stop it. You know he isn’t even scheduled!

Ben I just thought— maybe that’s how prayers work, I don’t know, I’m not a reverend!

Sammy King Falls AM, you’re on the air.

Dr. Rosenblum [Dr. Rosenblum’s voice is measured and monotonous and mildly creepy at all times] Good evening, this is Dr. Jeffery Rosenblum, with the, King Falls County Coroner’s Office.

Ben C-can I please just say—

Sammy Dr. Rosenblum, it is a pleasure to speak with you this evening.

Rosenblum Excited to be here, Sammy. Ecstatic even. We listen on slow nights.

Ben That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard.

Sammy Much appreciated, Doc. Now, as fate would have it, you were the overseeing physician working on the Lake Hatchenhaw John Doe, is that correct?

Ben Doc? Can you just, hold on for- one- moment- please?

Rosenblum Of course, Ben I—

Sammy Don’t start, Ben! We agreed to see this through.

Ben All I’m saying i- lemme finish- a- i-is that maybe it’s not our place *deep breath* to break this kind of news.

Sammy Fine. You know what? You’re right! Let’s just give this to our friends down at Channel 13 and let them be the ones to alert the public about this.

Ben [journalist voice] Doc, Ben Arnold. Tell us about cracking open the mystery body.

Sammy [quietly] Oh.

Rosenblum It’s true that I was the operating physician on that particular John Doe, y-es, irrefutablyy

Sammy Now, as I understand, your official report was released yesterday morning, doctor, but amazingly enough, not one publication or news station in our town- including King Falls AM- reported on it.

Rosenblum You are correct. Busy news day- one would assume.

Ben So, that means, you are— free to talk about it on air.

Rosenblum I would be elated

Sammy First and foremost on everyone’s minds: were there any signs of, uh, y’know, the lake mo- *sighs* I can’t.

Ben Did Kingsie make the body, bite the big one?

Rosenblum There was no evidence that a creature large or small had anything to do with the deceased.

Ben *sigh of relief* That- I knew Kingsie didn’t have it in her.

Sammy Now, Dr. Rosenblum, can you tell us if there was any foul play involved at all?

Rosenblum During our first autopsy we were not able to distinguish with certainty the cause of death. But there were no signs of foul play

Sammy I’m sorry, did you say “first” autopsy?

Ben [confused] Is that normal? Did you- find out the cause of death during the… second autopsy?

Rosenblum Indeed. It was six individual gunshot wounds to the victim’s head. Three shots to the temporal lobe, two to the mendulla oblongata—

Sammy What?! Six gunshot wounds?!

Rosenblum To the cranium, yes. One to the frontal lobe, another to—

Ben So the Lake Hatchenhaw John Doe was, murdered?

Sammy I can’t believe this! This is big! Why didn’t one news outlet report this thing yesterday?!

Rosenblum Well, the cause of death was inconclusive and with no signs of foul play, it was not exactly a juicy story.

Ben and Sammy Wait a second.

Rosenblum …yes?

Sammy I’m sorry, doc. I’m not in the medical orrr criminal fields but, how is six gunshots not foul play?

Rosenblum Well, that was between the first autopsy and the second. The gunshots were self-defense administered via Deputy Kreighauser at my behest.

Sammy Ben, we’re gonna wanna get Troy on the phone and see what he’s got to say about this.

Ben “Things Ben Arnold would never think under ordinary circumstances for 800, Alex.”[2]

Sammy Doc, while we’re getting Deputy Troy on the line, would you mind if we took a quick break to hear from one of our sponsors?

Rosenblum That’s just- Dandy.

[light bg music]

Greg Frickard After a long day’s work or a tough day’s play, you probably just wanna come home and relax. No need to slave over a hot stove for hours on end. Well that’s where we come in! Here at Granny Frickard’s, we know that the less time you spend doing the things you don’t like, is the more time you spend with the ones you love. So come get some of the best frog legs that money can buy. Granny Frickard’s French-fried farm-fresh never-frozen filleted-and-fricasseed fried-and-flambeed frog legs. Mm-mm-mm. So get on down to Granny Frickard’s Froggery at the corner of Main Street and 7th Avenue. We’ll put some pep in your step and some hop in your heart.

[KFAM intro music]

Sammy And we’re back on King Falls AM, here with King Falls County Coroner, Dr. Jeffery Rosenblum.

Rosenblum A Pleasure.

Sammy Do you have Troy, Ben?

Ben He’s booking one of the Williams boys for mooning. He’ll call us in a few.

Sammy I’m a little out of sorts here, doc. Can you explain what happened between the first inconclusive autopsy and the point where Troy filled the cadaver full of lead.

Rosenblum Of course. As I was finishing the initial post-mortem, it came to my attention that the deceased began to emit a hissing sound, fluctuating between the lower thorax and the larynx.

Ben Oh my God.

Rosenblum I called for Deputy Kreighauser and he entered, as I wanted someone else to see this- phenomenon. That’s when the John Doe began a slight, thrashing about the upper torso.

Ben Um… are you saying—

Rosenblum The deputy began to fumble for his sidearm while we both discerned that something was wildly- amiss. The deceased opened its eyes and instantly grabbed for the lapel of my lab coat with voracious tenacity.

Ben Wh- ah- go on.

Rosenblum It gnashed its teeth as I emitted a terrified, albeit, high pitched, scream. And that’s when Troy unholstered his sidearm and administered six lethal shots to the reanimated corpse’s cranium.

Ben A zombie.

Sammy Alright, is there- [fumbling] Let’s just say- is there-

Ben We’ve got Troy on the line.

Deputy Troy [in bg] I don’t care if he was only joshin’. You can’t show your G-D derriere out in public! [car door slams] [pleasantly] Hey boys, what’s goin’ on tonight?

Sammy You tell us, Troy, holy geez! Uh, we’ve got Dr. Rosenblum on the line here and—

Deputy Troy Is this about the zombie?

Ben Yes! So-so you’re confirming this story, Troy?

Deputy Troy Well, hell yeah I’m confirming! I had to do three hours of damn paper work from unloadin’ my pistola into a corpse! Sheriff Gunderson was not the happiest of campers.

Ben [excited and awed] This is amazing… This is unprecedented .

Sammy [skeptical] This is a little unbelievable, Troy.

Rosenblum It is a first in my profession. Believe you me. [still tonelessly] Wowzers.

Deputy Troy Honest engine[3] boys. I capped the all get out of that thing! It had the doc by the face ‘bout to start chewing!

Rosenblum You’re my hero, Deputy Troy.

Deputy Troy Shucks, wasn’t nothin’ special.

Ben [slightly sullen] Except killing the first instance of a zombie in King Falls since—

Sammy Don’t say “since”.

Ben … Well… Since that one time at the mall in the '80s.

Sammy No, that’s not a real thing, Ben. That’s a film.

Ben [worked up] Sammy? How many extraordinary things are gonna have to SLAP you right in the face to make you buy into this? KING FALLS, MAN.

Deputy Troy You know me, Sammy. I always shoot ya straight. But it was the craziest sh[bleep]t I’ve ever seen. I mean it was like my-ex-wife-needs-alimony-money crazy.

Ben See? Even Barney Fife[4] saw it.

Sammy *sighs* I just—

Rosenblum I don’t want to cause an uproar here, but since that exam, there have been, other cases.

Ben Of frickin’ zombies?

Rosenblum Of reanimation among corpses… yes.

Deputy Troy Doc, you just give me a call if you need. I’m more than happy to go Clint Eastwood if the situation arises.

Rosenblum Will do, Deputy. Thank you so much for your- assistance. Without you, there may not have been this- interview.

Deputy Troy [proud] To protect and serve.

Sammy I can’t take all this in right now, Dr. Rosenblum I- e- Thank you so much for your insightful information.

Rosenblum As they say, [still monotone] “you got it, duude.”

[click, dial tone]

Ben You okay, Sammy? You… don’t look so well.

Deputy Troy Ah, hell, boys.[siren whoop] I gotta go. I’ll call you back later tonight! One of the Williams boys is tryin’ ta saw through the bars outside the jailhouse? [sirens in bg] [through megaphone] Jacob Williams put your hands UP and the file DOWN.

[click, dial tone]

Ben Alright King Falls, you’ve heard our story, let’s hear yours. Have you or anyone you know experienced anything like what the doctor spoke of? Reanimation? The walking—

Sammy Don’t.

Ben You know what I mean. Give us a call or tweet us.

Sammy Looks like the board is lighting up!

Ben Um…

Sammy What’s up? Okay, it can’t be any crazier than what we just heard, Ben.

Ben Line One, Sammy.

Sammy Welcome to King Falls AM, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.

Line 1 [female, almost sounds automated] Good evening, Sammy—

Sammy Do I know you ma'am?

Riley — please hold for Mayor Grisham.

Ben He… Probably just wants us to— mark these tapes as, evidence. *nervous laugh* Right, Sammy?

Sammy Or burn them.

Riley Sammy Stevens, Mayor Grisham.

Sammy Mayor?

Mayor Grisham Sammy… Ben.

Sammy You’re on live on King Falls AM, sir.

Mayor Grisham [commanding] Take me off and go to break. We need to chat.

Sammy No can do. Ben says we aren’t scheduled for break for another- uh- at least ten minutes.

Mayor Grisham Ben. Cut. To. Commercial.

Ben Uh- uh- uh- the thing is- I- I- I can’t- do that. Sir.

Mayor Grisham [threateningly pleasant] You boys want to talk live on air? We can talk live on air.

Sammy [challenging] Nothin’ to hide on this end of the phone, Mayor Grisham.

Mayor Grisham I hear your snide remarks, Sammy. I’ve read the transcripts.

Sammy Which! let’s be honest, is pretty weird. We’re a late night AM talk show, why are you bothering with us?

Mayor Grisham Oh, I don’t bother with you. I try to keep up to date with all the local news and entertainment. I gotta say, I was really happy a big city radio guy decided to come play host at our little radio station.

Sammy Well, I’m more than happy to—

Mayor Grisham I wasn’t finished… But I have to say, I’m a little less than thrilled with [accusingly] all the excitement you brought with you.

Sammy I’d hardly call reporting the news “excitement”, sir—

Mayor Grisham It’s interesting to me that I don’t see Channel 13 breaking these crazy stories.

Ben [quickly] No offense, your honor, but those idiots don’t know their a[bleep]holes from their elbows.

Mayor Grisham And you boys being on site when these “events” happen? [softly, still accusing] It’s a little bit of a coincidence don’t you think?

Sammy Are you insinuating that we are staging these events, Mayor?

Mayor Grisham I’m stating facts. I’m sure your ratings are way, way up there since all these sensational events seem to coincide with your broadcast. Why do you think that is? Furthermore, I mean who’s up listening to you at this ungodly hour of the night?!

Sammy Seemingly most of the town, Sir. As well as whomever you’ve hired to keep an ear on us.

Mayor Grisham I’ve tried to be nice about this… And I tried to be civil… but I think it’s about time that you troublemakers changed formats. No more of this funny business. It’s not good for the listeners. It’s not good for the residents. And honestly? it’s not good for me. I don’t appreciated being painted in this light, gentlemen.

Sammy Oh! You mean the light where you as a public service,[sic] try to quell the voice of the people.

Ben It’s not your right to tell us what we can and can’t report on, sir. All due respect.

Mayor Grisham [rudely] All due respect, Ben Arnold. Just a couple of months ago you were digging up old records on eBay for Chet Sebastian to run on about. Now you’re a media star?? That’s worrisome! Seems you fellas have All the reasons in the world to fabricate these issues, and I have to say I’m not gonna sit here and listen to this, while you LIE TO THE GOOD PEOPLE OF KING FALLS.

Sammy Well, when we start “fabricating” and “making things up,” you can come throw the book at us. But until then- [click, dial tone] Whoops! Looks like you just got disconnected. I’d wait for you to give us a call back and all, but with it not being an election year I probably shouldn’t hold my breath.

Ben Line One iiis lit up again, Sammy.

Sammy [insincerely] Oh, sorry about that Mayor! I must have fabricated accidentally dumping your call when-

Esther Rollens [heavy metal music in bg] [voice old and wavering] Did you boys fund a lavender ball of yarn in there? Been looking for it all week! [click, dial tone]

Ben [shaken] Sammy, I think that commercial might do us some good right now.

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Coachella - The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival (commonly called Coachella or the Coachella Festival) is an annual music and arts festival held at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California, in the Coachella Valley in the Colorado Desert.

[2] Reference to the TV game show Jeopardy!

[3] I honestly can’t tell if he’s saying “honest engine” or “honest injun” but i’mma go with the one that’s technically incorrect but also not super racist.

[4] Barney Fife - Deputy from the Andy Griffith Show. Calling a police officer or authority figure "Barney Fife" has become an American slang term for gross ineptitude or overzealousness.