#shush psychology degree

[pinkslaystation]

Ghost of A Connection

Ghost and Staff!Reader

In which you work at the nearest store at base, Ghost being your least favourite and unfortunately, most frequent, customer. Is there a connection there, or is it in his head? yALL - all these COD stories on tumblr got me hyped! So here I am tryna catch some clout ;) Be warned, this is possibly a very inaccurate version of military life, but then again, it's just a story. Word Count: 2.5k

Man, post-graduate life is hard.

Graduating top of your cohort of nearly 300 students in your masters degree within Psychology was impressive. Saving enough money from shadowing your senior Psychology professor and moving out to your apartment was impressive. Owing your own car was impressive.

What wasn't impressive though, was nearly hitting the 6 month mark of unemployment.

So here you are, stuck calling all your classmates for any open roles. You're so desperate at this point, you'd go for anything!

"Hey, Mahir! I know we didn't quite end of good terms...um-you know...when you asked for the mid-terms answers last year, and I- um...left you on delivered, and you had to retake the exams...but um, I hear you started working at the University as a Researcher and you're looking for a assistant? Well gee, don't forget how smart I a-"

Disconnected.

"Yooo, Josephine, it's me! From the Psychopathology group project! Yeah, I'm sorry I shouted at you for not doing your part on the project, and filing a complaint against you, haha...although, like, come on, it's your fault - you're 25, not a 5 year old bab-"

Blocked.

Wow. You were not liked.

So one evening, when you were on the phone to your childhood friend, Jordan Biggs, and had managed to slip out how desperately broke you were, he kindly offered a potential role at his workplace.

"Shop keeper? What, like a convenience store?" Remind me where you work again? Aren't you in the navy? What stores are you talking about?" You rambled, I mean a possible job - finally?!

On the line, Jordan chuckles, "Slow your roll, man. I've been been with the army for around 3 years now, I'm currently on a mission but we'll be home soon. Our base has a shop, that sells, you know, tactical gear-"

"GUNS?!" You interrupted.

Jordan laughs, then in shushed by, what you assume to be his teammate, "No, not any weapons. Just, tactical gear, MREs, bits and pieces of uniform. Sometimes you might be asked to clean the base, set up rooms for meetings. And ooh my favourite - work at the canteen. We serve the country, you serve us food." Jordan explains.

So you complied.

I mean, yeah, your degree isn't being utilised, but we're in a cost of living crisis, for Christ's sake.

And here you are, clad in a plain dark grey fleece, and straight black trousers, trying to look as professional as possible.

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Your first day was silent. You found that you lived only 30 minutes away from the base, so you didn't struggle with the early shifts, working almost full days at the base, with a surprising decent salary.

You learnt you had replaced the previous worker, Katherine, a grumpy senior who quit, being fed up with the stench of these sweaty unkempt soldiers, and their rowdy behaviour after missions.

You also met your staff at the base, being the youngest one there gave you no surprise, with most your colleagues being double your age. You liked it. It was quiet, having met a few of the soldiers.

Your role was relatively simple. Consisting of various tasks such as ordering enough food to satisfy the recruits, more training equipment, when a recruit seemed to damage one. All in all, you were satisfied, especially when the first pay day rolled in.

You also noted that your colleagues, without fail, always seem to talk about a specific group of soldiers, such as Friday evening, when you all found yourself eating an early dinner.

"Soap is so sweet! He's always so generous when we talks to me, although I can't lie, I don't know what the fuck he says half the time." Your colleague rambles, shoving a spoon full of Friday's roast dinner into his mouth.

Another agreed, "Nothing beats the dilf of a man - Captain John Price. I may be chewing steak but that ain't the meat I want in my mouth, if you get what I mean-"

You choked, "Margaret, you're married with grand-kids, lord."

After a quiet but much needed conversation, you learnt about the most well-known team within the base, Task Force One-Four-One, lead by Captain John Price, forming of Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, and the one you were most curious about - Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

"But like, why Ghost? If he's close to this Soap dude, why not call yourself Shampoo or something?"

Your colleagues laughed at your naivety glancing at each other.

"My dear, I don't dare to call him anything other than Lieutenant. He's entered a 10 metre radius of mine, and I've already pissed myself." One stated.

"I've heard he threatened to attack Katherine, just because she overcharged him, long story short, she quit." Another replied.

It seemed you didn't understand how feared Ghost really was...

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

By the time you all had finished dinner, the staff split up, some going back to the canteen to prepare dinners for the soldiers finishing training, some going to clean up the barracks, and you found yourself going back to your designated shop.

Aah, this is peaceful. You mumbled, drinking your hot chocolate, whilst sorting out all the army boots on display.

As the clock strikes 10 p.m. though, the silence is broken and you hear a stampede of soldiers, once you assume had come back from a month long mission. The majority of them, from what you'd heard, sprinted to the canteen to rid themselves of their strictly MRE diet, and finally eat some home cooked food, whilst others ran off to their freshly cleaned barracks to get some well-deserved sleep.

Your little shop also seemed to be quite busy, a long queue waiting to buy water bottles, bandages, blankets, you name it. From nearby chatter from the tired soldiers, it seems most of the teams had arrived back from Afghanistan, a successful mission with no death and a few minor injuries.

An hour goes by and the queue dies down to around 6 people, with one at the till: Jordan.

"So a water bottle, that would be £1.50, payin- my God, Jordan?" You smiled, getting in front of the counter and pulling into a hug. He smelt like dusty and you joked that 1 bottle of water wouldn't suffice to rinse him of the smell.

"I haven't seen you in forever, it's been like 6 months? How's the job been treating you?" He enquiries, placing a kiss against your forehead. By now, the nearly empty shop turns to face the both of you, many assuming the situation to be a couple reuniting.

You and Jordan continue to catch up on everything - his mission, your job...Margaret's obsession with which positions she can take Captain Price in...

"Bro, she was going so in depth into the many ways she can contort her waist for, what she calls, the Price penis?!" You pull your most fake-disgusted face, as Jordan cackles loudly.

But his laugh falls short as a deep scruffy voice interrupts him-

"The only thing being wasted right now, is my time. Hurry the fuck up and pay for your shit. You act like we have all the time in the fucking world."

You jump slightly at the harsh words, although this is a military base, you should be used to this foul language.

"My guy, she said waist, not waste-" Jordan begins, before straightening his back and realising who he was talking to.

He turns around to face the man's voice, his back now turned to you, obstructing your view of the unknown soldier.

"Lie-Lieutenant. My apologies! Lemme grab this water and get out of your way," Jordan nervously chuckles, you can't see who he's talking to, but you can tell this was a man of higher authority, given how Jordan stutters. "Ooh, I see what you wanted to buy! Gloves, nice, socks, cool, Coc-Coco pops?!"

"My fucking God Biggs, the only thing big about you is your stupidity and your pussy attitude, grab your shit and go. Stop holding the fucking line, mate." The male's British accent is so prominent with every word enunciated, and you wish to never run into this stranger again.

"Sir!" Jordan turns to you, handing you a fiver and awkwardly side hugging you, "Have fun with this jerk wad." He whispers into your hair, before running out the shop, his water bottle still on the counter.

"Jordan your bottle-"

Holy shit.

After Jordan moves, your eyes feast before you, revealing a godly 225 lb man, standing at an impressive 1.89 metres, dressed in his dark and intimidating casual attire, his face hidden behind a skeleton mask, his piercing eyes squinted and penetrating into your shorter frame, his biceps bulging out of his sweatshirt, his shoulders broad, his trousers failing to hold his impressive bulg-

"Are you going to continue gawking at me like a fuckin' donkey or should I not pay for this shit?" He huffs out in disappointment.

Rude. Plain rude. Sexy...but rude.

Now you know why Jordan couldn't move a muscle when faced with this guy. Putting 2 to 2 together, you clocked. The way other soldiers left the shop as he entered. The way one look from him gets them to shut up so quickly. The skeleton mask-

This is Ghost.

"We- I- Um-" What the hell? Why can't you form a damn sentence?

"I- I- I don't give a damn. My shit, here." He mocks you, slamming his items on the counter. By now, the other customers have scurried off in fear. It's now you and Ghost in the shop.

You nod, humming a yes, eyebrows furrowing at his unkind words.

The next few moments are followed by near silence, the only sounds being the scanning of the items and your quickening breath. His foot begins tapping rapidly, as sign that you're taking to long.

It's uncomfortabl-

"The old hag before you's gone then."

Yes, Ghost, she is. And if you keep acting like this, I will be too. You grunt a response, unable to find the right words.

"£28.50" You say curtly, after a while. He hums in response, pulling his wallet to pay.

You watch him nervously, you did not expect to see one of the most respected soldiers in front of you so soon. Someone so handsome, someone so fucking sexy, but someone so fucking bitchy...

Oh. You said that last bit out loud.

Ghost pauses his actions, his head slowly craning upwards, his gaze drinking you in.

Your eyes meet his, quickly looking back at the counter, unable to meet his furrowed but amused glare.

"'m so bitchy, but you seem to love it, sweetheart. So red, like you're fucking in love with me or something." He scowls, slapping a £20 note on the counter.

"Maybe next time stopping droolin' over other men when you have your own cunt of a boyfriend." He mutters, before taking his shit and leaving. You don't fail to catch the smirk in his voice, as he exits your shop, loud footsteps booming behind him.

Oh my god.

You were at a loss of words. You were also at a loss of £8.50.

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"Jordy, you don't fuckin' get it! Dickhead left the place, without paying the full fucking price, mind you." Frustration was evident in your voice.

"Bitchy and broke," Jordan snickers.

"And the audacity to call you my boyfriend? Bye." You huff in annoyance, whilst Jordan chokes on his spit. If anything, he was a like a brother to you!

A week has gone by since that first encounter and your conversations with Jordan at the shop, when he passes by, always seem to end up at the topic of Ghost. The way he glares at you as you walk past him in the corridors. The way he sees you struggling when you carry boxes upon boxes- oh he won't help you, by the way. When you ask, he simply scoffs, "You're getting paid and you don't even want to do your job?"

Since that day, you've met all of the Task Force members. Price was as Margaret mentioned, sexy. Soap, comical, Gaz, kind-hearted, Ghost...yeah, he's there.

"But you don't get it man, he's so big- like over 6 foot! And those eyes- man those eyes. So condescending...but so hot..." you continue.

"Damn Margaret wannabe, we get it." Jordan jokes, drinking his can coke - which he didn't pay for. You'll tell him later.

As you both converse, loud footsteps enter the store.

Ghost. Again.

Did I mention he's been in here every day since the first time?

8 a.m. sharp, the moment you clock in for your shift, and 10 p.m. on the dot. Fucker's so annoying, he'll stay around the shopfloor, lazily looking at the various protein bars, even after you state the shop is already 10 minutes past closing.

But you don't mind. His silently stares at you, as if trying to remember the exact location of every beauty spot on your face, the consequent reddening of your cheeks, the slight touches of his rough callous fingers brushing against your own. All this unspoken tension, leads to your every thought being consumed by Simon Riley.

And when he enters the shop, wow. Buys the most random unnecessary shit ever. You notice how he walks in and purchases his singular Coco Pops cereal bar, day after day. This man isn't sick of them?

I mean, come o-

"Your obsession with me is flattering." He states.

Oh, forgot to mention, he's still an asshole. But at least after rehearsing to yourself in the mirror, you can actually speak up for yourself.

"Guh- buh- we- u-" Fuck's sake.

But he actually laughs this time. A loud imploding chuckle exits his mouth, and you actually smile a little at this unfamiliar emotion.

You can't tell what his face is doing under the mask, but his voice suggests a small smile rests on his face, but it soon disappears before he coughs awkwardly.

"Your boyfriend's in the infirmary by the way." He looks away, emphasising boyfriend a little too roughly.

You stare in confusion. Boyfriend? He picks up on this.

"Biggs. Rolled his ankle or some shit. Dunno why he can't just man it up. I've had worse injuries." He mumbles, smiling under his mark slightly, assuming Jordan isn't in fact your boyfriend.

Your eyes widen, "Jordy? Wha-who-how?"

"He-" But before he can answer your question, you're running out the shop to the infirmary, stealing a snack from the shelf for Jordan.

You fail to notice that you'd left a dejected Ghost at the counter, who'd picked up 2 coco pops instead of 1 this time, his smile faltering, as he planned to give you the 2nd, as a token of apology for his impolite behaviour.

In the end, he realised he'd been holding onto a ghost of a connection, overshadowed by the presence of another man.

He winces, being left alone at the till, hoping to actually strike up a conversation with you, as he gathers his (unpaid) belongings and walks out the door, off to shout at any rando that dares get in his way.

yALL its 2.30 a.m. and i'm craving coco pops-

[alisonfelixwrites]

Informed consent - chapter 1

Word count: 7,552

Mia Brown always thought she was a nice girl. She was polite, kept to herself yet was always keen on helping others if they gave her a little time to grow comfortable.

She grew up in a household where she never had the upper hand, where she was never considered the smart one. It was a feeling she got used to, waiting for instructions and then following them. Whenever she spoke a thought of her own, her parents were always quick in dismissing her and placing her back in line.

Mia Brown was raised to be perfect. 

Psychology wouldn’t have been her own first choice for a university degree, but it’s what her parents pushed her towards. They listed all the pros of a degree in that field and she found herself nodding. Before she knew it, her signature was on the enrolment form and her education was paid for.

Five years of university for a topic she had forced herself to grow excited about. Mia always assumed she’d go for something like… biology. The human body fascinated her, more specifically the brain. She sneakily watched Grey’s Anatomy for years, finally divulging in it fully now that she lived in a dorm and was no longer at her parents’ house, and for a long time saw herself as a neurosurgeon.

It was safe to say Cristina Yang was her example for a very long time. Her bossiness, her huge brain and her overall attitude was something Mia admired, she felt. That was until she suggested the idea to her parents, who rather quickly shushed her and shot her a disappointing look. Her father claimed surgery was a field for men, not women.

Mia remembered feeling disappointed, but forced a smile and had nodded at him either way.

According to him, she should choose a job where she could do regular office hours and be home at a nice time to care for her future husband. Someone her parents had apparently even already lined up for her. 

Daniel was nice enough, Mia thought. He was clever, polite and her father liked him. He was the son of a family friend and Mia saw him on certain occasions throughout the year. For the time being, both him and her were studying for their respective degrees at the colleges of their choice.

Mia didn’t particularly mind that they were on opposite sides of the country.

From a young age, she questioned her mother about the idea of love that she had seen in movies. Even though her parents never really allowed it, Mia did look at romantic films on the television and it was once more something she no longer deprived herself of now that she lived on her own.

The first time she asked her mother, was after watching Tarzan as a child. She liked how Jane fell for someone unconventional, someone who didn’t particularly fit the vibe of her own life. But she liked him for who he was and they ended up fitting their lives together.

Her mother hadn’t smiled gently at her question. She reprimanded Mia for it, for assuming that something like that could happen in real life. For her parents, love was a business deal. They had met in similar ways as Mia and Daniel had, and for them it was normal.

The first time Mia told her roommate and friend – Hazel – about it, Hazel’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Her reaction actually made Mia laugh, because she felt like Hazel made a rather funny face and it caused a rather embarrassing snort to rise up Mia’s nose until she buckled over in laughter. Hazel stayed shocked for a few minutes before she questioned everything about this love-deal that Mia’s parents had made with Daniel’s parents.

She asked for a picture of Daniel, which Mia showed off of his Facebook-profile. Hazel had scrunched up her nose and pushed her thick-rimmed glasses further up her nose while also using both thumbs to zoom in on the picture. 

Mia had pressed her lips together, “He looks better in real life.” She defended him for some unknown reason.

The profile picture looked like him in the mediaeval centuries, posing for some kind of painter who’d make a portrait of him. It was stoic, very serious and the longer Mia stared at it, the funnier it became. Not long after, both her and Hazel were caught in a laughing fit while Hazel tried to impersonate Daniel’s picture.

It was hilarious, Mia thought. She couldn’t recollect a time she had laughed like that. So freely. 

She had been shy upon meeting Hazel at first, but she had given Mia time and space to open up and feel comfortable. She was still a little reserved, as she was around basically every human being. She was extremely polite and never did colour outside of the lines. It was quite the contrast from how Hazel lived. Sometimes, Mia thought, Hazel was a bit careless. She took inspiration from it, but in her own time.

Something that sadly enough didn’t move on her own time, was her education.

How she got through high school with flying colours, turned into a huge mystery for Mia. Upon starting university with all the hope in the world of liking psychology, it was a bit of a let down and a reality check when she struggled tremendously with the course materials.

It was a challenge she hadn’t faced in a while. All throughout high school, Mia had kept to herself and studied hard. The results proved worthy of how much time and effort she put into her assignments and tests. In university, she struggled.

Somehow her dyslexia didn’t bother her as much in high school. Mia’s teachers were aware of it and aided her for certain parts. In university, the professors weren’t as concerned and left the students to their own, and it made Mia anxious. 

While Hazel spent time with her friends – usually leaving the apartment to give Mia peace and quiet – Mia was huddled up at her desk with stacks of books and deadlines to achieve. It had surprised Mia, how hard of a time she had with the materials.

Mia did learn mechanisms, but it didn’t take away the added hardships of reading long texts or getting through thick books.

Especially when she was tired or anxious, the letters clouded together. The more frustrated Mia became, the harder it got to read the lines. It meant that she spent more time than ever between her books in order to pass her tests and get good grades. 

It meant the world to her parents to uphold her pristine reputation.

Even when Hazel tried to coax her out for a night, Mia most often refused. Not only did she suffer from social anxiety, she was far too preoccupied with her school work to let loose for even one night. 

“Good morning.” Mia softly spoke when she heard the closing of Hazel’s bedroom door. The next thing Mia heard was a loud yawn as Hazel dragged her feet over the hardwood floors of their shared apartment. 

Mia supposed it was the scent of coffee that woke Hazel up this Monday morning. Mia knew Hazel didn’t have classes for a few hours but that she had some texts to read. One thing that Mia’s psychology degree and Hazel’s philosophy degree had in common, was that they both had to read a lot. Thick books with different materials, yet the same amount of pages littered both their desks. 

Hazel was quite a bit more casual with it than Mia was, but that was alright. Hazel’s parents were nice people and upon meeting them for the first time, Mia sensed immediately where Hazel got her chaotic mind from. Mia’s parents did not assist in the furnishing-assembly party for their apartment while Hazel’s parents did. With bright smiles.

Mia made sure to thank them properly by cooking a nice meal for everyone that night. She declined the wine that Hazel offered and later on shared with her parents while Mia sipped on some water. 

The same table Hazel’s father had put together, now held two coffee mugs that Mia filled with black coffee. She glanced over her shoulder to see Hazel with a wild mess of curls on top of her head, run-down mascara and her pyjama top on backwards.

The sight made Mia giggle under her breath while Hazel joined her at the table, immediately holding her head with both hands to soothe the hangover Mia was sure she had. She never assumed Sundays could be for partying, but Hazel proved her otherwise. Apparently when in university, every night was for partying. And Hazel often used that excuse to leave for the night.

She softly slid the mug of coffee with the little pink unicorns on it towards Hazel while taking a sip of her own, poured in another one of Hazel’s funky mugs that Mia preferred. Hers had little daisies on it, and she found that it brightened her day.

“You’re an angel.” Hazel’s raspy voice was a clear indication from lack of sleep and one too many cigarettes, and Mia smiled at the sentiment, “I figured you might need it to wake up a little more. I think I heard you come home at around four.”

Hazel lifted her head, panda-eyes on full display as she stared at Mia, “Shit, did I wake you? I thought I was silent.”

Mia smiled softly – trying to hide her everlasting shock whenever Hazel blurted out a curse word just like that – and shook her head, “No, you didn’t. I never sleep all that amazing when I know you’re going out.”

“Mia,” Hazel groaned with a slight eye roll, “I told you to stop worrying about me.”

Mia looked down while taking another sip of coffee, “I know, but I can’t help it. I noticed you didn’t bring your coat and it was snowing right before I went to bed.” She defended herself for worrying about her friend.

Hazel chuckled, “That’s really sweet, but it’s about a thousand degrees in every nightclub.”

“But what about when you go outside?” Mia retorted curiously. Hazel shrugged, “I waited inside for the uber to come and get me, so it’s fine.”

Mia tilted her head to the side, “Right.”

Hazel took a large sip of her coffee and Mia looked at her with endeared eyes, “Did you have fun?”

“Really fun.” Hazel yawned, “You should really join us sometimes. I think you’d like my friends.”

Mia took it upon herself to plant a little polite smile on her face, nodding at Hazel’s proposition even though the idea made her stomach twist, “Yeah, sure.”

Hazel and Mia hadn’t met yesterday. They had lived together in this apartment for almost two months, so Hazel knew perfectly well that when Mia said ‘yeah, sure’, she actually meant no but she was too polite to say so.

Hazel was too tired and hungover to start any sort of discussion about it, and she also didn’t want to make Mia feel uncomfortable. Mia liked their dynamic so far. She had been nervous to live with anyone who wasn’t her parents and her older brother, who had gone off to university a few years prior and who she hardly kept in touch with. Hazel coaxed and urged her, but never pushed. She understood Mia, she felt. And it was something Mia was grateful for. Their dynamic of being roommates turned into a dynamic of being friends over the two months of living together.

“So what’s your day like? Are you home tonight?” Hazel questioned.

Mia sipped down more coffee while taking it upon herself to start packing her lunch. She shrugged her shoulders, “I have class in about thirty minutes. And then it’s just all through to the afternoon and then from three, I do some therapy.”

“Right. Lots of clients today?” Hazel asked and Mia puckered her lips, “I don’t know, honestly. I’m sure professor Dillon will tell me when I get to class.” She popped a piece of toast in her mouth while spreading some hummus on the rest of the bread she packed for lunch. 

Due to her struggling with her school assignments, her primary professor – professor Dillon – had offered her some work for extra credit. Her assignments and tests hadn’t been all that amazing, and in order to save herself, Mia was allowed to practise. She had never really learned many social skills, but found that giving therapy was something up her alley.

Maybe her parents were right after all when picking this degree for her. 

Mia found that listening to other people and exploring their minds was something she needed to be good at if she wanted to be a therapist. Due to Mia’s struggling grades, she was offered the opportunity to receive extra credit, along with a few other students. Mia stayed behind twice a week to give individual therapy to fellow other students. 

Some came to them voluntarily to just clear their minds and vent a little. Others had to come to therapy mandated from the school. Either they did something wrong at school – like they skipped too many classes or defiled the school property – and were given the choice to either pay a fine to the school or follow some therapy sessions with the psychology-students. 

Mia had questioned the ethics of it, along with Hazel. Of course Mia and her fellow students made referrals to actual therapists if they felt like the problems were too severe, but they had learned that the students that came in for therapy sometimes just wanted a chat. It was free, it was accessible and it was private.

And then there were those who had to follow it for mandatory reasons. It was a bit sneaky on the school’s end, but if students chose therapy rather than paying for defiled property or receiving detention, parents weren’t notified. It was a great way for the psychology students to get some practice in. 

It took Mia a little while to get on board with this plan, but the few students she had seen so far, had put her at ease and with each passing therapy session that she hosted, she felt like she got better at it.

One girl came to her because she had a minor drug problem but it was only an issue when she didn’t reach class on time in the mornings. Another came to her because they drunkenly broke into the school at night and broke a window. 

It was another thing Mia tried to let go of, the anxiety of trying to predict who she was going to have in front of her and what story they’d tell her. She had learned that it was something she couldn’t control and strangely, that put her at ease. She couldn’t prepare for some of the things she heard.

Obviously, she was a first year student who had hardly learned any actual theory about psychology, but her school believed in a practical approach and Mia decided to use it to her benefit and gain extra credit from it since studying wasn’t going to be her forte in university.

She finished packing her lunch while Hazel told some stories about her night out. Apparently, she had gone to a bar – which Mia wasn’t surprised by. Hazel told stories with her hands, Mia noticed. She liked listening to her. Her eyes enjoyed following the movements of her fingers, bringing strength to her words as she enthusiastically spoke about events that were completely foreign to Mia.

Drinking shots. Dancing on tables. Kissing strangers. Mia listened with perked ears and wide eyes of a world that was unfamiliar to her. It was a world she was curious for, but also scared of. For now, Mia felt alright just following along from the sidelines.

“I took extra bread out of the freezer so you can have lunch. And I cut up extra cucumbers too.” Mia spoke while closing her breadbox to put in her bag. Hazel’s eyes could’ve turned into hearts at Mia’s words and she smiled at her, “I have the best roommate ever.”

Mia blushed and giggled, floundering at the compliment which still felt uncommon to her to receive in the first place. She didn’t think she had ever been the best at anything, so she liked Hazel saying it like that even if it was a figure of speech. Mia was sure there were better roommates out there than her, but she didn’t get in that headspace because it was one she struggled to get out of.

With her brown hair in her signature braid behind her back, Mia worked her way on exiting the apartment. She wore black jeans, wool socks, boots and a few layers up top to keep warm. November had just begun and it was very cold in the UK to say the least. It’s why she had felt worried about Hazel going out in what Mia was sure was just another short dress, without a coat. 

With the first flakes of snow she saw drizzling from the sky from her opened curtain in the street lights, she felt a pang of worry shooting through her. Mia had learned that she enjoyed sleeping with her curtains open for the sheer fact that she could look outside. She enjoyed the business of their apartment, the sounds coming from the street, the distant chattering.

And at night, it was lovely silent. Mia loved the silence. 

She bundled up tightly and bid goodbye to Hazel before braving the cold and making her way to campus on foot. It was about a ten minute walk and only recently had she dared to start listening to music on her walks. Mia wasn’t superstitious or paranoid, but her parents had always warned her. Not about anything in specific, they just warned her. So she was careful and hesitant about everything, also the few same streets she always took to campus to get to her classes.

As expected, she got in early. Her first class today was child development. It wasn’t something Mia found herself very fascinated by. She wasn’t fascinated by most of her subjects and she had yet to find her passion in this field. Neuropsychology was the nail in her coffin, if she was honest. After class one she knew she’d struggle with that one.

Mia pulled out her laptop and took a seat by the window, giving her a view of the snowed-in campus. She found herself smiling at the comfortable view, feeling quite right at home on this campus. 

Moving away from home could’ve gone two ways. Part of Mia was very excited to do so, because her parents started to feel suffocating and she was keen on trying to figure out what life had to offer. She was ready to move on her own, spread her wings and figure it out. On the other hand, Mia realised she had always been very protected.

Her parents were set on her watching the news every night and she was confronted with the worldly horrors on a daily basis. It took her parents convincing to let her move to a big city as they called it. 

Mia wondered why they never gave her brother that hard of a time when he moved away.

Class moved by quickly as Mia paid attention and took notes, knowing she was messing up lots of the words she typed. It was another thing she lost time with, going over her notes and fixing them every night before she could actually study them. If she focussed on that in class, Mia knew she’d be lost after only a few minutes as the teacher moved too quickly. 

When the weather was still nice, Mia often chose to have lunch outside by herself. She’d sit at the campus grounds with a book or use the time to already go over her notes or study some more. But with the snow falling, she felt nerves seeping into her bones at the thought of having to eat at the cafeteria.

She spotted some of the people who had a few classes with her and they shot one another polite smiles. Mia was too shy to ask them if she could sit with them, so she chose a table in the back where a lot of people unfortunately dumped their trash after finishing their lunch.

Mia chose a spot at the far end of the table and used the back of her breadbox to push some of the empty wrappings to the side and give herself a little room to eat. She was grateful that during the course of her meal, no one threw anything on the table and they let her eat in peace.

After her afternoon class, she made her way over to professor Dillon’s office on the fourth floor of the North building. She had just snacked on some grapes and a cup of hot tea from the vending machine, her fingers coming down on professor Dillon’s office door which was slightly ajar.

He beckoned her in with a comforting grin, surrounded by stacks of papers on his desk.

His messiness resembled Hazel’s, Mia observed. 

“You only have one therapy talk today, Mia.” Professor Dillon handed her a small file and Mia took it without second thought, “Okay. Room two?”

He breathed out a small chuckle, “You don’t have to ask anymore, you can take room two.”

Mia smiled wider and nodded gratefully, “Thank you, professor.” Ever since beginning this volunteering work, Mia had preferred to give therapy sessions in room two. They could choose from five rooms since there were usually five students volunteering, Mia being one of them. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about room two that she liked, but apparently professor Dillon didn’t need much confirming and just handed it to her.

With the file under her arm, Mia made her way to room two, opening it up comfortably only to be startled with a yelp when she realised she wasn’t alone.

A boy was in the room. Well, a man really.

His eyes flicked up at the sudden action of the door opening, his eyes landing on Mia from his seated position on the couch. He wore a dark blue beanie and an equally dark oversized jumper that covered part of his hands too. They were clasped together as his elbows leaned on his knees and he comfortably sat on the couch.

Mia caught her breath and tried to hide the pinking of her cheeks, forcing him a small smile even if the stranger nearly gave her a heart attack.

“Hi. You must be…” She casted her eyes down to the file that the professor handed her, squinting her eyes to read the name properly, “… Sinclair, Harry?”

He softly cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

Mia nodded and closed the door behind her, balancing her bag, the file and her cup of tea which she chose to set down first of all before making even more of a fool of herself. She shrugged off her coat and made the room a little comfortable, shooting Harry a small smile, “Sorry, I just got here.”

He didn’t answer her as she went around the room, turning on certain lights and also turning on the heating to get the space a little warmer. 

She had to admit she was a little startled to find the stranger here already. She liked getting in a little early to get the space ready and read through the file, to get a sense of at least the name of the person coming in for a chat. 

Harry stared at his feet as Mia moved through the space until eventually settling down into the couch opposite him, a small coffee table between them. Mia clamped both hands around her hot cup of coffee and left a bit of a silence, taking him in.

She noticed the little glob of snot in the corner of his left eye, the writing marks on his hands, the few chunky rings adorning his fingers and the way they tightly grasped one another, joining in his lap when he leaned back against the back of the couch.

“Aren’t you supposed to like… talk or something?” His voice broke the silence.

Mia snapped out of her admiring-state and flicked her eyes up, a flush rising up her chest that she tried to hide by taking a sip of her tea and burning her entire throat simultaneously – yet another thing she tried to play off.

“Do you want anything to drink?” She changed the subject.

“No.”

More silence. She liked doing it like this at first, because it gave room for the other person to say whatever they were feeling like.

“Are you just gonna keep staring at me? I don’t think this is how therapy works.” Harry spoke again, a boring tone to his voice as his fingertips started playing with the armrest of the couch where there was a small rip in the sowing. His fingers picked on the stuffing in it as he had a more relaxed position.

Mia pressed her lips together, trying to think of some conversation techniques she had read through before starting any therapy sessions with anyone, “It’s not. I just like to leave room for some silence, is that okay?” She could tell her voice didn’t sound all that steady. Mia really struggled with these therapy sessions but knew she had to practise if she ever wanted to do this for a living. Her social anxiety just got in the way most often and she needed some time to get into it.

“Not when it’s awkward.” He mumbled, his eyes then going to the clock on the opposite wall, exhaling another bored sigh. Mia tilted her head to the side, “You don’t want to be here.”

Harry clacked his tongue and didn’t look at her, “Nice observation.”

Another small blush from sheer embarrassment and Mia blinked a few times before finally reaching for the folder on her lap. Mia softly cleared her throat and opened it up, “So… Harry. What do you study?”

“Philosophy.”

Her ears perked and she fought the small smile on her lips, the immediate thought of Hazel popping into her brain. Mia was sure her loving roommate would have no issue striking up a conversation with this quick-witted young man in front of her. 

“That’s interesting.” She commented, earning her nothing more than a lazy shrug from Harry’s shoulders who seemed more occupied with destroying the stuffing of the couch than to speak to her. Mia nibbled her lip, unsure of where to go from here.

So she decided to ramble her memorised lines that she had to repeat all the time.

“So – “ She drew a breath, “you are in for eight sessions with me. The sessions are twice a week at first but about halfway we move onto once a week, so it’ll be a month and a half unless either of us falls sick or has to cancel due to class or an assignment.”

He didn’t react or respond so Mia felt like it was appropriate to continue, “We obviously don’t know one another, and I want you to know that nothing you say here will leave this room. I’m not here to judge. This is a… safe space.” She cringed while speaking the words but professor Dillon had urged her to speak them. 

Harry exhaled a soft huff but still didn’t look at her. 

“Oh, and I just need you to sign this. It’s an informed consent. You know, just that you agree with this and that I’m allowed to write some stuff down. It won’t go in an official file or anything, it just means I can keep some notes so I don’t forget everything by the time you come in next.” She spoke softly, pulling something out of her bag. Mia straightened out the sheet a little before leaning over the coffee table and placing it down with a pen on top.

Harry stared at it with little interest for a bit until he leaned forward too, took the small pen in his huge hand and lazily scribbled his signature without even taking a look at the words on it. He leaned back on the couch with a sigh so deep it seemed like putting his signature down was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

“So, I think we should start fresh.” Mia forced him a smile after she put the consent form away ,and got up, extending her hand, “I’m Mia.”

Harry arched up an eyebrow, unimpressed as she stood in front of him. His eyes dragged up her form once and Mia could feel herself shrinking while trying to keep her extended hand steady. He eventually shook it with little enthusiasm, “Harry.” He sighed.

Mia couldn’t help but smile brightly when he seemed to cooperate finally, but Harry’s eyes were cast down rather quickly. The cool metal of his rings contrasted with his warm skin when they shook hands, but he dropped his hand with little enthusiasm the second it was polite to do so.

“Okay.” She kept smiling while sitting back down on her couch, feeling as if they could move on from this awkward first greeting and finally get somewhere. She tucked a short loose strand of brown hair behind her ear that had come loose from the braid in the course of the day and nibbled her lip, staring down at the file on her lap.

"Are you comfortable here? Not too cold? I turned the heating on a little but let’s be honest, the weather has been less than a treat lately. I for sure didn’t expect to wake up to snow this morning. Although it was a nice surprise because it’s so pretty, it’s not that fun if you need to get places.” Mia started her small-talk, which was her usual way to get her clients to feel comfortable and open up.

Harry exhaled a bored breath and just nodded, more to himself than to her. Mia pressed her lips together when she realised this wasn’t really Harry’s cup of tea, her just chattering. Maybe he didn’t need it. 

“Have you ever gone to therapy before?”

“No.”

She nodded, opening up her notebook and scribbling something down, “And – uh, philosophy, hm? What year are you in?”

He put his chin on his hand while resting his elbow on the armrest, staring at her with an unimpressed look yet it still made Mia squirm inside. His eyes were quite intense and a very beautiful shade of green. She didn’t think she had ever come across someone with such striking eyes, or who’s eyes just stood out to her like that.

Mia found herself hoping he’d start talking soon so she could take the time to really look at him. She could listen to his deep, slow voice without paying much attention and let her eyes curiously trail over him for a moment. Right now, Mia felt like she couldn’t because he was watching her like a hawk and she felt a little shy under his gaze.

“Mostly in my second.” He shortly answered and Mia nodded, writing again to keep herself occupied, “Mostly?”

He shrugged, “Fucked up a little last year, have to retake a few subjects.” He answered and Mia found herself tensing up at the curse word he let slip just as casually as Hazel did. 

“So you’re nineteen?” Mia had stopped writing and now simply drew shapes of eyes in the by-line of her notebook, subconsciously trying to mimic him. Harry exhaled again, “No, twenty.”

Mia curiously lifted her head, unable to keep the small frown from etching into her forehead. She parted her lips to ask the obvious follow-up question but Harry beat her to it with a small roll of those green eyes, as if he was already sick of hearing that same question, “I doubled a year in high school.”

“Oh.” She nodded, dropping her eyes again as Harry did the same. The room fell silent once more and Mia realised only six minutes had passed since she walked in. She mindlessly clicked her pen a few times until hearing a clearing of Harry’s throat. Mia’s eyes flicked to his, her cheeks pinking up a little as he shot her a slight glare. She put her pen down, “Sorry.”

Harry didn’t say anything but looked very much done with being in this room. His knee bobbed a little, sneaker-clad feet constantly shifting positions as he sat restless. 

Mia usually refrained from looking into the file too much. She found she rather heard from the people themselves what they were here for, telling their story. Most of them didn’t mind telling her as she apparently was someone to be trusted rather easily. She had never come across a student as hard to crack as the boy in front of her.

But now, in this silence, she noticed her fingers inching towards the folder and she eventually took it in her lap again and opened it up. She saw his global information, such as his name and his date of birth.

An Aquarius.

Mia’s eyes darted over the paper and she nodded to herself, until she tensed up and her eyes widened upon seeing what he was in for. She couldn’t stop herself when her mouth gaped and she gasped, before lifting her head with struck eyes.

Harry didn’t even notice, too occupied with the stuffing of the couch again as he lazed in the chair until the hour passed by.

“You…” Mia croaked out, still dumbstruck with the newly found information. Her eyes dropped to the paper again as if to read it once more to check if she was actually correct and that her eyes weren’t deceiving her, “You really did this?”

“So far for not judging.” Harry huffed and Mia swallowed, “No – but… seriously?”

Harry didn’t say anything but didn’t look amused with her reaction. Mia drew a breath, “You had… intercourse with someone in the library and broke a bookcase?”

“Mhm.” He mumbled.

Mia read over the words one more time until she glanced at him, “Why?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to her, “Why? What do you mean, why? Because I fucking felt like it, of course. I was horny and it was empty. Is it my fault those fucking book cases are ancient as fuck and can’t take some weight on them?!” He bit.

Mia felt a bit taken aback by the sudden volume of his voice, staring as his fingers now angrily picked at the rip in the armrest while grumbling something under his breath. After another moment of silence in which Mia felt like she simply had no idea how to even respond to that, Harry sighed out, “It’s not that weird, people do it all the time. As if you’ve never felt the urge and just did it wherever?” He continued.

Mia straightened up and pressed her lips together, feeling herself turn pink again. It was a common thing whenever a client turned a question around on her. She didn’t like answering questions during these sessions, she liked asking them. It was basically the only thing Mia felt like she enjoyed about being a therapist. Her entire life, she had never really been listened to, and she didn’t feel a particular need to talk now either. But she enjoyed listening.

She enjoyed finding out how people’s minds worked, how their brains were wired, and how they processed. 

She avoided Harry’s question specifically, because the fact that she was a virgin did not need to be discussed here, nor did she want him to find out. She just cast her eyes down, reading over the words just one more time to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

But no. Harry did have intercourse in the school library during a quiet moment of the day, but in the act he and the person he was doing it with, knocked over a smaller bookcase that did have some value to it. The school board was furious and wanted him to pay for the book case that he broke.

Harry apparently opted for therapy instead.

It seemed to be a decision he now regretted as he hung in the couch with his breaths even and his face looking like he had just received the world’s most awful news. It was quite clear to Mia that he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Mia felt like she had to gather herself and keep the conversation going, “S-So does your girlfriend have to get therapy too?”

“Girlfriend?” Harry chuckled at that, but in quite a menacing way as he shook his head, “She’s not my girlfriend.” He rolled his eyes, “She fucking bolted the moment that book case fell and she was out before the guard caught me. ‘M not gonna rat her out, I’m not a complete dick.” 

Mia was absolutely baffled by the way he spoke so casually with so many bad words in his regular vocabulary. She shifted a little and nodded, as if the idea of casual sex wasn’t completely foreign to her. She resorted to writing down a bit more while racking her brain for the next question or something that could steer this conversation back to where she wanted it to go.

“How old are you anyway?” Harry broke the silence this time. Mia lifted her head with raised brows, immediately a tad bit intimidated by the attention being on her again. She fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater, “I’m eighteen.”

“Holy fuck.” Harry sighed desperately while dropping his head back into the couch, showing off his throat and all the veins running there – which Mia tried very hard to keep her eyes away from. “What the fuck am I doing here.” Harry whined more so to himself than to her.

Mia tried not to feel too hurt by his statement. She was aware that not all people truly enjoyed therapy or that they were made for it. But she had also learned that after a few minutes or at most after one session, she had swayed them and they actually looked forward to coming back.

Never had someone expressed such displeasure in spending one hour in a room with her. It made an uncomfortable tingly sensation run through her skin and her throat dried out just a little bit as she forced a small smile his way when he lifted his head again.

“S-So – uh, why don’t you just tell me the story of what happened?” Mia tried to shift it back to Harry, to have him speak a little more instead of just answering with ‘yes’, ‘no’ or a shrug of his shoulders. Harry rolled his eyes again, and Mia frowned to herself. Did he really think she couldn’t see it when he did that? Did he not realise how rude it was to just roll your eyes at someone like that?

“Look – Mia, was it, right?” He started in a breath and Mia softly nodded, “Yes.”

Harry cleared his throat, “You seem like a nice girl, but frankly – you look like you belong in church. I never meant for my fucking sex life to be a topic of discussion with a fellow student who’s younger than me. As if you’re supposed to give me advice or some shit?” He exclaimed, clearly frustrated. He chewed his lip, ready to spew more venom at Mia who shrunk just a little on the couch. She hoped professor Dillon was following along and was ready to intervene instead of letting her suffer like this.

“I can’t pay for that bookcase, it’s like four grand – so yes, I chose this therapy thing instead. Not all of us have the privilege of just doing some volunteer work without getting paid for it. Some of us actually do need money.” He bit. 

Mia straightened up, a tight lump in her throat that she hadn’t expected just settled there. Rock hard, not wanting to move no matter how hard she tried or swallowed. She looked down to her lap, eyes blurring ever so slightly as she tried to breathe properly and remember her anxiety exercises.

Now would be a really good time for professor Dillon to come save her. 

---------

Professor Dillon didn’t come save her.

It was about forty minutes later and Mia had arrived home in the warmth of the apartment she shared with Hazel. She kicked the remainder of the snow off of her boots and then neatly put them next to the door to dry before padding her way into the space. Some lights were on and the door to Hazel’s room was on a small crack.

After nervously playing with the end of her braid for a bit, Mia thought she’d go in. She had contemplated it the entire way over, if she should bother Hazel with this.

Mia knew there was patient confidentiality, but she also knew the entire campus usually knew whenever someone had done something that earned them school mandated therapy. Mia was probably the only one who hadn’t heard about Harry’s library-escapades before today, because she didn’t speak to a lot of people and zoned out most of the time during the breaks.

Her knuckles gently came down on Hazel’s door and she could hear some music coming from inside.

“Come in!” Hazel called out and Mia nudged the door open, seeing Hazel up in her floral pink bedsheets and her laptop on her lap, a bag of chips next to her. She immediately frowned upon taking one look at Mia, “What happened?” She questioned urgently.

Mia’s shoulders deflated a bit and she let out a rugged sigh, that lump back in her throat, “I don’t – nothing.” She settled on, a sigh leaving her as she remembered how her and Harry had just been left in silence until he mumbled something under his breath and bolted out of the door.

She didn’t sign off on his session, so it didn’t even technically count as one. Afterwards, she had gotten scolded for it by professor Dillon. He hadn’t followed the session along so he had no idea what had been said, all he knew was that Harry left after about fifteen minutes instead of an hour, and that he had looked even angrier when leaving then when entering.

Mia stood small in front of professor Dillon, her arms protectively crossed in front of herself – even if it was a stance that her parents disapproved of because it was impolite – while he reprimanded her. It was quite familiar to Mia, she felt like she had been reprimanded her entire life.

Her parents had never been too liberal with their compliments, which is why praise from anyone – including Hazel – made her beam so much.

“Hey, Mia, come on.” Hazel frowned in worry and Mia shrugged, “Just – uh, a bad therapy session. Well, m-my first bad therapy session. I was just starting to think that I might be good at it but this… this guy showed up a-and I just didn’t get anywhere and I completely choked up.” Mia started rambling, her voice jumping a little as her words followed one another quickly. She looked anywhere but at Hazel as she was one big ball of worry now.

Her grades weren’t the best and that volunteer therapy thing she did was really just to get her a little extra credit. If she failed that too, Mia was sure she’d have to redo her year and the look on her parents face if she had to give them that news, was something she’d rather avoid.

Hazel shot her sympathetic eyes, “Babe, hey… Not all people open up as easily, you know that. And also, you’ve just started this thing! It doesn’t mean you’re a shit therapist or that you’ve chosen the wrong degree, you just need more experience. I’m sure it won’t be your last client behaving like that… some people are just not meant for therapy.”

“I know.” Mia murmured, keeping her eyes low until she sighed again, shifting from one foot to the other, “Can I just… climb in bed for a minute? And cry a little bit? I won’t make much noise.”

Hazel exhaled and nodded quicker than Mia had assumed. Her hand worked on opening up her blankets and Mia exhaled in relief when she slowly padded over, carefully climbing into Hazel’s pink bed. She snuggled a little into the free pillow, avoiding Hazel’s look on her as the first tears came running down.

She couldn’t believe she still had seven sessions left with Harry. Well – eight. Maybe he had changed his mind after all, rather digging into his savings to pay for the expensive book case he broke than spend more time with Mia.

A gentle stroke of Hazel’s fingers through her hair was what made Mia cry a little harder. The disappointment in herself was one thing, but the disappointment that her parents would feel when they found out about this – was another.

She had to turn this around, she couldn’t just fail this subject too. Mia couldn’t fail.

She just couldn’t. 

[cowgirlcherrie]

hiii :) i was wondering if you could do headcanons of modern! ellie

Hiii lovie of course!!!! ♡♡

a/n: this is kinda drabble-ish but would love to do more of these, so keep requesting them LOL! This is a little sporadic but I love it, so I hope you enjoy <3

warnings(?): not really much mostly fluff sfw, with slight suggestive undertones but really if you squiiint

modern! Ellie headcanons

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

♡ Ellie would definitely be in college, part of her doesn't know fully why she applied but she was giving it a shot

♡ totally an undecided major, science? teaching? psychology? She really doesn't know at first but settled on psychology so she could get her degree

♡ makes you wear a necklace with her initial on it (totally possessive)

♡ magically always had weed, which was also confusing at first but she just had that good of connections around town with local plugs and dispensaries.

♡ always has a blunt tucked behind one ear

♡ makes you trim her hair because she doesn’t trust anyone else touching anything on her body.

♡ always loosing her lighter so you bedazzled it and she literally never lost it after that, she would rather die before losing that lighter now

♡ if you have stuffed animals, she tries to remember their names but gets them wrong every time

♡ A few months into dating when labels were now on the relationship, would gift you little things and act like it wasn't her.

♡ once gifted you pre-rolled blunts and you were definitely confused but before you could give them back would kiss your cheeks before saying "No take backs"

♡ keys jingle when she walks, and it's loud asf too!!

♡ whenever you can't find her she's definitely in the gym

♡ low-key would get addicted to going in her free-time ( gym rat ellie ?????)

♡ definitely rubs your back while you are studying or working from home, keeps one arm rubbing circles in your lower back and another on her phone, she enjoyed the comfort of being close even though you kept shushing her. (she’s definitely playing subway surfers or scrolling on tiktok)

strong believer that she would accidentally get tiktok famous, but everything she would post after that one thirst trap would be just videos of you

♡ loves dressing you up, quite literally sits at the edge of the bed while you try on different clothes leaning back as you come out of the bathroom,

"Twirl for me doll,"

" I love that color, you should wear that more often"

♡ one day when you see her playing guitar and beg on her lap that you want to learn, Ellie will literally take you to the guitar center the next day to get you your very own

♡ spoils the crap out of you!!!!!

♡ lovesss teasing you and resting her hands on your upper thigh especially when you wear something revealing like skirts or shorts, she tucks her hand way too close up.

♡ touchy touchy touchy! always has to be touching you somehow

♡ leaving kisses on your neck 24/7 because of the way you jump when her lips touch your skin

♡ skincare nights go so crazy, took a lot of convincing, but will be right next to you with a facemask on while you watch a good show

♡ definitely dominant 80% of the time

♡ pet name Warriorrrr ( baby this...doll that) she literally doesn't stop

♡ if you ever go to a party together definitely shares alcohol with you so you don't drink too much

♡ if you are drunk after will take your make-up off and do your night time routine for you

♡ wakes up late as fuck!!! totally wakes up at 2pm like its nothing

♡ definitely mean to everyone else but you.

I'm talking about glaring at people 24/7, crazy attitudes, and people basically asking for permission before they speak.

♡ whenever she catches you doing your natural hair, begs to help which results in her wanting to do it every washday

♡ at first, Ellie didn't understand the hype behind matching fits but does it just for you

♡ overall Ellie is just a simp for you like literally only cares about you, weed, and getting money

[espresseo-cafe]

life is still beautiful | johnny | ch.8

genre: cappucino, romance, angst, university!au, dad!au, drama, slice of life

pairing: collegestudent!johnny x fem!reader

bean count: 3.1k+

a/n: this has a crossover with @jae-canikeepyou ‘s series serenity in us 🤭 read that if you like, you’d love it 🤗 so now i’m back from hiatus! enjoy your coffee time 💚 note: this is only a work of fiction, it doesn’t reflect the artists’ personalities in any way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“how are you coping?” was one of the last messages johnny had sent you. after your breakdown and asthma attack, he didn’t send you any more, just short ones as he was planning his baby thesis together with kun on psychology. he also had to do his paediatric studies on saturdays.

besides, you guys were entering to your final year very soon.

you decided to give him space, you as well needed to catch up with your own (being at the library at the moment)- even though it was stressful enough to have your parents by the ends of your hair strands most of your life. it was habitual, you guessed.

it was also ironic because even though you dislike shoving your face in books and research papers, you found yourself kind of listening to their orders of studying hard.

but you soon realised you were doing this for yourself, not for them.

somehow you wished you never agreed to meet them that day. you just ended up disappointed and hurt like you always had.

your phone rang when you just quickly put it down, receiving mean glares and shushes from the people around the table. taking your stuff and shoving them in your bag, you ran out of the library and called back the person who conveniently decided to embarass you.

“you just love to distract me, do you, johnny?” placing your phone between your ear and shoulder, fixing the heel of your socks.

a soft chuckle heard from the other line, a voice you kinda want to hear. “because i know you will be. want to go for coffee? i finished my project so i can meet you at the atrium.”

“please, i got homework to finish.” you dramatically told him, turning to your left then walking down the stairs.

“hm, interesting.” he hummed, “if you got homework to finish then why did you change your path down the stairs?”

you halted as you almost set foot to the atrium’s entrance. looking up, he was there by the railings.

“i see i got a stalker.”

“the one and only.” johnny smiled and waved at you from the balcony before going down the stairs to meet you.

placing your phone in your pocket when he stood in front of you, you laughed, “dear me, do i need to call the police?”

he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, “please don’t. besides you owe me coffee, it’s been a week.”

you slapped his chest lightly. what’s with him and coffee? “dude that’s what you’ve been wanting to do? don’t you have cash?”

“i spent it on youngmin’s medicine. little dude can’t keep still, always running around until he caught fever. but he does get regular check-ups.” he sighed, “medicine should be free, especially for kids.”

as you walked to the coffee shop at the next street, you concluded that maybe it was why johnny took paediatrics, to monitor youngmin’s health.

johnny was on his final year of his double degree in psychology and paediatric studies, so his schedules were going to be busy. an idea came up to your mind. “say, why don’t i take him to the clinic for his checkup appointments? so you could focus on your studies.”

johnny’s slightly tired face lit up, “really? you can do that?” you nodded as you both entered the coffee shop, “that’s great, it’ll be a huge help.” looking at the drinks menu, he hummed. “you know what, drinks are on me today, i’m suddenly in a good mood.”

you giggled when he took out a five dollar bill on his hand, “so you can treat me coffee on days i take him for appointments, deal?”

“deal-“ johnny flicked his head to you, “-wait!”his hand got freed of cash when you took the bill and jogged to the counter. he stifled a laugh seeing you already pointing at your desired drink, smiling endearingly at you until you turned to him.

“johnny, come on here and choose yours!” gesturing for him to come closer, “they’ve got an offer of buy one get one free.”

little did you two know, you didn’t notice the presence of both rowoon and seungcheol seated at the very end of the coffee shop. rowoon thought that seungcheol’s little crush on you was too obvious. he wondered why after all this time, the guy never seemed to talk to you.

“for a jock like you, you’re someone who’s actually soft for the girl you like.” he munched on the scone he bought, seungcheol then shaking his thoughts off of his mind.

“so what do you want me to do?” the doe eyed asked, taking a sip from his latte.

rowoon smirked, checking a piece of a paper slip before giving it to seungcheol. “nothing actually. you can stay put for now, but hold onto this.”

“if this gets us into trouble, rowoon, you’ll know what you’ll get.” seungcheol warned him, taking the envelope from him as the boy stood up to leave.

“don’t worry, hyung. we got this.”

——

“no way! how come i just heard of this?” yoohyeon told you through the small screen, while you ate on ramyeon bought from the convenient store. she tutted her lips together, “hey y/n, is that all what you’ve been eating since i was gone for almost three weeks?”

“it’s my cheat day.” you slurped, wiping off excess soup from your cheek. “i’ve been studying my brain off, i need to de-stress somehow.”

yoohyeon whined playfully, “i want to de-stress too! the expectations here in paris is as high as the eiffel tower. but anyway, answer my question. so it’s still on the rocks with your parents?”

you hummed, not sure how to answer that just yet. “yeah definitely, can’t believe i’ve been stood up at the dinner.. well it’s not like it never happened to me.”

“well isn’t that great? there’s progress!” she sarcastically said because she knew how your relationship was with your parents. she then squinted her eyes. “then what about you and johnny? any progress in that?”

you coughed on a piece of noodle. “t-that, i don’t know. i heard he had an argument with his ex after youngmin’s party.”

“minji? after so long?” she questioned. “well, i hope she doesn’t give him a hard time. the guy’s moved on, given that his attention is so focused on you.”

you laughed a little, “who’s to say, it’s a little crush i have for him. there’s a fine line between falling in love and having a crush, you know? maybe it’s just admiration on my part. but him to me? i doubt it.” you felt a shuffle on the side as you placed the ramyeon on the table behind you, making yoohyeon tilt her head in question.

“did you get a puppy, y/n?”

“a cute one, actually.” shifting your phone for her to see clearly, youngmin snuggled next to you.

“oh, my, word.” she said dramatically, “you’re a certified mommy candidate for the little one. i’ve never seen him so close to anyone like that. johnny must love you to the point he trusted his son to you.”

“a: he doesn’t love me, and b: i offered to help him, alright? we’re not even gonna go there.” you shook your head, combing youngmin’s hair as he slept.

yoohyeon took a snap of that, sending it to johnny immediately. “oh isn’t it time for you to bring him to his appointment? it’s almost 1pm.”

“yes and you’ll be late for class.” you reminded her, “make me proud, yoohyeon. i helped you with your thesis, don’t put it waste.”

hearing you say that made her laugh so early in the morning. “it’s 6am here but roger that, momma!~” waving a goodbye before signing off.

you turned your phone off, putting your legs off of the sofa. then youngmin woke up and wiped his eyes, “mama i’m warm.”

you flicked your head to the boy, chuckling and patting his cheek. “it’s auntie y/n, youngmin.” he sat up and yawned, asking for a hug and you carried him, soon taking your leave to the clinic. “you’re going to get better.”

the little toddler was tired the whole time, and that worried you. wearing the carrier, you placed him facing you while he slept once more. the cooling patch on his forehead wasn’t doing any good to put his temperature down. he actually cried quite a bit on the way so you put a dummy on him, and thankfully he didn’t cause too much of a scene on the train.

stepping in the clinic, you suddenly saw your long time friend, jungkook. his eye smile never failed to be so contagious. “ah noona! you’re here again?”

“yeah, i need to be here for this little one. my friend’s son.” you ruffled his hair, and jungkook poked his cheek.

“he’s adorable! oh and guess what? i’m assisting the renowned dr. jung yunho tomorrow, i just finished meeting up with him.” his bunny smile showing.

you gave him a high-five, you were really proud of him. “nice on you sophomore, it’s gonna look good on your resume once you do your residency and fellowship.”

jungkook just scratched his head, blushing red. “it’s still a long ways to go, noona.” checking his watch, he gasped at the time. “and i don’t want to be late. catch up soon?”

you nodded and gave him a wave, “sure.”

the reception was close by and you confirmed youngmin’s booking. the nurse had to double check if you were the parent, and you clarified that you were substituting the child’s father, who couldn’t make it in the scheduled appointments and showed her the documents with johnny’s signature.

“i actually thought you were the mother. because mr. suh comes here alone often, other than the grandparents. so i got my hopes up when i recognised youngmin with a young lady. sorry about that.” she noted, giving you an apologetic smile.

“it’s not a problem, i haven’t met the mother as well so i guess we’re on the same page.” you smiled a bit, and took a pen from your bag, signing the check-in sheet.

“oh excuse me miss, you dropped something.” one intern next to the nurse pointed down while you muttered a thank you.

it was the extra coupon you had from all the coffee breaks you had with johnny. maybe i should use this later. so you placed it back again to use it again. slowly standing up, you removed youngmin from the carrier while the nurse took him in for a little check up before the actual appointment with dr. yunho.

“miss y/n!” you heard a little squeal, and it was one that you recognised so well. “long time no see!”

“hi liam!” you bent down to have a short chat. “are you here for a check up with the doctor?”

the kindergartener nodded quickly like he was so proud of it. “yes, i got a scratch on my face and on my leg because i fell.” you told him to be careful and he just pouted, saying that he would. he turned around to lady who called him, saying that they had to leave.

at the same time, you were called in by dr. yunho. you patted his hair and bid him goodbye. standing up, you were faced with a lady, who was around your age. must be liam’s mother.. you thought. but who were you to judge?

liam jumped as he left the hospital, whining that he was hungry. “can we go to mcdonald’s, auntie minji?”

she held his tiny hand, “of course, you did really well at the checkup.”

“then can you carry me there, please?” he pleaded, making puppy eyes to convince her, only for her to disagree.

“no can do, liam.” she poked his little nose and teased him. “you know auntie isn’t that strong like a superhero.”

after youngmin’s checkup, you were thankful that he didn’t need to be confined in the hospital. on the other hand, you were so dazzled by dr. yunho, how could someone be so handsome and smart at the same time? it was funny how he opened up so quickly, even mentioning that he had brothers who went to the same university as you- currently year one and year four. it didn’t feel like an appointment at all because of how he conversed.

youngmin seemed to have gotten used to being at the doctor’s, after the fact johnny told you that he used to cry a lot about it. and speaking of him, you got a call, just in time.

“hey y/n, i’m on my way there with bosco, we’ll drop him off at mom and dad’s first, then i owe you coffee again, is it the third time this month? anyway see you both in five minutes.”

you lit up, “sure, we’ll wait here.”

it took about five minutes for him to arrive. talk about consistency: another box ticked on your checklist. he came out of the car to help carry youngmin, while you got on after.

the nurses who saw this from the clinic had their hearts swooned in various places. johnny was young but the way he handled everything made him so mature.

“daddy material..” the intern’s eyes twinkled while she clasped her hands together.

“get back to work, rookie.” the nurse sighed.

“what? you were staring at him too, hypocrite.” she pouted.

as youngmin rested at his grandparents’ place, you and johnny made your way to the coffee shop. patters of rain drummed the windows and johnny sighed when he looked above. “i swear this is like the worse summer ever, it’s been raining for days.”

“can’t help it though. it was scorching hot as well. besides, fall is on the way, in a few weeks?” you stretched your neck and your back from side to side. the feeling of cracked bones was such a relief that johnny glimpsed at you back and forth and scrunched his face.

“sorry, you must’ve been tired from bringing youngmin to the clinic for three weeks.” he stopped the vehicle at the red light.

“it’s okay, it’s workout for me to carry him.” you snickered. as you said that, the rain gradually grew a bit stronger. so you looked up as well, and you didn’t like how it reminded you of the past.

it used to be about your parents, it still was, besides text messages you hadn’t heard any apologies from them at all. and that upsetted you.

another thing was the accident, you haven’t even came into terms with it. you still remembered the impact, the screeches from its tires, the way you flew, and the way you thought everything gone in a blink. it felt like it was yesterday.

johnny knew at one look that you were still processing everything that happened. it was something he wanted to help you overcome but he also knew it was a long journey and that it doesn’t just disappear overnight.

so an idea came up to him, he hoped you were up for it, and he hoped he was right. you felt the vehicle turn sharply to a corner. johnny turned the engine off, “y/n, let’s go out right now.”

your raised eyebrow made him want to laugh but he knew you would love this. “um, are you crazy? it’s raining cats and dogs outside, johnny.”

he just grinned at you. “i maybe am. but with a little bit of play in the cold of ‘cat and dog’ rain, you might just be crazy with me.” he got off the car and ran into the rain, hollering and spinning around.

your eyes widened, frantically turning your head around to check if people noticed him. reaching for the handle, you stared at the rain once more, hands shaking anxiously. should you go out once again?

“awooo!” johnny continued to shout and laugh. you stared at him deadpan, this was embarrassing.

you sighed, “johnny!” the secondhand embarassment you got from him was unbelievable. you ran towards him and stopped him from whatever he was doing. “what are you doing?”

“oh? the puppy chased me and stopped me.” he laughed and you just blinked your eyes in confusion. “cats.. dogs.. rain..? you and me? don’t you get it?”

“johnny, cats don’t howl.” you crossed your arms, finally getting what he meant. “let’s go, before we get sick.”

he didn’t say anything and pulled your arm, “i know you hate the rain but…” he trailed off, taking two pairs of airpods. putting one pair to your ears before he put another into his, he played one of coldplay’s biggest hits, and the song that calmed you down- a sky full of stars.

“let’s have some fun.”

the piano melody and the vocals filled the intro, johnny’s head started to follow the beat and sang. and naturally you followed, singing as well. the familiar music slowly building up. when it reached to the one minute and eighteenth mark, as if you and johnny shared the same braincells, started to jump in the rain.

he held your hand and twirled you around, then suddenly doing a crumping move on this medium-paced song, made you laugh. you’d say it out loud that johnny was a good dancer. it even showed when the next song- adventure of a lifetime, was next in queue.

that was where you confirmed he was groovy, pulling a little genre of modern swing. not that you knew how to do that certain dance pairing, but the music and johnny’s energy just made you dance with the flow.

his guided his hands to yours, leading you with his twists and turns. and in parts were the music were on a slight drop, he led you to follow him on certain easy steps.

you also had your share in adding steps and iconic movements, putting a little michael jackson moonwalk in it. johnny pointed at you in surprise, even in earphones, you could hear his laugh.

johnny and yourself probably looked like idiots dancing in the rain on the road towards the highway. but to the both of you, it was special, as you were dealing with heartbreaks in different aspects. music was definitely a de-stresser.

johnny looked at you with admiration. as you danced away in the rain, he felt like he was witnessing something beautiful. though the music was playing, he could hear his heart beating. and his eyes widened when the lyrics mirrored what he was feeling:

“now i feel my heart beating, i feel my heart underneath my skin, oh, you make me feel like i’m alive again.”

he smiled endearingly, he knew he was so attracted to you. he knew you had space in his heart, and he’d gladly give it to you.

you turned around, hair flicking slowly, then your eyes met.

and it was when he realised fully,

that he was starting to fall in love with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @titanmaknae29 @joepomonerof @lovesuhng @studyingthemind @cheyehc @kyeomooniee @geysuuuuh @mrkleelvr

[conflictedenthuasiast]

Sometimes I wonder if my comments are too much but then I think-

-hmmm wait no I just don’t think lmao-

I forgor

This is colorful

Because

I

Am

BORED

Well I hope they like it :D

[with-love-from-hell]

Vermillion Skies

{part Nine}

Fandom: Obey me!

Genre: hurt, comfort, angst, some fluff

Pairing: Mc x Lucifer (pre-established relationship)

Written for F!MC

WC: ~4.5k

Music Accompaniment

TRIGGER WARNING FOR ALL PARTS: graphic depictions of sexual assault / rape, gore, and violence.

CW:  Graphic discussion of past trauma in the series thus far (sexual violence, ignoring consent for medical treatment, abortion, pap-smear exam, blood/gore/violence among characters) Imprisonment, catatonia, PTSD, dissociation, flashbacks to instances of sexual violence, panic attacks, anxiety, swearing, physical violence between primary characters, jealousy/romantic rivalry.

>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of sexual abuse, assault, or harassment and are in need of help, please utilize the RAINN sexual assault hotline or online chat service, or find additional help using the NSVRC website. <<

You can find any future parts by searching the tag #vermillion skies on my blog! I have added it to all parts!

Thanks for helping me reach 300 followers! Please enjoy a double release of the VS series, plus the Music inspirations, PLUS  a set of headcannons for the series! Read under the cut.

Read part 8 here

Read the special 300 follower headcannon post here!

The sound of a door slamming in the distance made Lucifer bolt up out of a dead sleep. 

He had somehow managed to pass out on the cold, hard ground with Mammon, who’s head had been resting on Lucifer’s stomach before he awoke. He stared into the dark hall outside the cell, listening for any further noises. 

“Aye!” Mammon snarled rubbing the back of his head from where it had struck the ground when Lucifer moved. “A little warning next time would be nice!” 

Lucifer shushed him and continued to listen to what now sounded like multiple footsteps approaching the cell. Subdued murmured speech could also be heard as the footfalls grew closer. Mammon’s eyes widened upon hearing what Lucifer had been paying attention to and he quickly rose to a standing position. Lucifer sat his body upright, but remained seated as Diavolo appeared in front of the cell with Barbatos at his side. 

Lucifer couldn’t help but glare at Diavolo. He had caused both you and Lucifer, as well as Mammon, so much unnecessary pain as a result of his actions, and he felt immense hatred in his heart because of it. Diavolo had done so much for him and his brothers, and he hated to cast the importance of that aside...but this was truly unforgivable. 

Diavolo noticed the vexation in Lucifer’s glare and felt his heart sink. Lucifer truly was his only friend next to Barbatos and now you, and hated the fact that there was so much animosity felt toward him from all three of you- but especially Lucifer. He sighed and nodded to Barbatos, who moved to unlock the cell, much to Lucifer’s surprise. 

After opening the door, Barbatos stepped aside and motioned for them to follow. Lucifer and Mammon stole a quick glance at each other before moving to exit the room. Barbatos lead them down the dimly lit hall to another larger cell.

Once in the room, Lucifer and Mammon were greeted by two familiar faces: Solomon and Simeon. Simeon refused to look at either of them, while Solomon’s cold grey eyes locked with Lucifer’s immediately. Lucifer felt anger fester within his chest and resisted the urge to growl upon seeing the man who had been the source of all of this renewed misery. He tried to calm himself down by thinking of how wonderful it would be to hold you in his arms again, and the sentiment allowed him to relax slightly.

Diavolo motioned for Lucifer and Mammon to sit in the chairs that were arranged in around a small table. Lucifer hesitated, but ultimately sat in between Mammon and Barbatos, and across from the other three. The room was silent for a lingering moment, filled with exchanged awkward glances between the six of them. Finally, Solomon decided to speak.

“I want to thank you for coming. I know the decision to meet with us probably wasn’t an easy one.” He gave a forced smile and Lucifer fought the urge to scoff at his attempt at pleasantries. “I wanted to first start by apologizing to all three of you- Lucifer, Mammon, and Barbatos. We thought that keeping the details of our intentions away from you all would be more beneficial in the long run as a result of your mistrust for me, but it ultimately resulted in a lot more pain for all of us.”

Lucifer glanced up from the spot on the floor his gaze had been fixated on while Solomon spoke. His eyes fell on the deep bruising on his neck from where he had strangled him. Surprisingly, he felt a twinge of regret for his actions, but the feeling was fleeting. He dropped his gaze once more after a nervous clearing of his throat. 

“Well, It shouldn’t be ignored that the encouragement of Mc to go along with this little plan and keep it from Lucifer also has been causing her immense turmoil-” Barbatos crossed his arms over his chest as he stared the sorcerer down. 

Lucifer snapped his gaze to Barbatos. He felt his chest tighten with anxiety at the thought of you having hid this entire thing from him. “Wait- she...she agreed to this!?” 

Barbatos sighed and nodded. “Solomon asked that she not tell you about it. She told me that she wanted to, but every time she had gotten the nerve to try, her ability to speak at all was lost due to her nervousness...She was afraid of you acting out.” 

Lucifer was saddened by the fact that you would hide this from him. Though despite the fact it hurt him, he understood why you would. His anger had been so out of control the past couple weeks, and it had terrified you. Its no wonder that you were afraid to tell him of the plans made with the sorcerer- ones that he had requested that you keep hidden. 

Barbatos noticed Lucifer’s somber change in his demeanor and pressed a hand to his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He turned to Solomon once more, continuing to hold his tight grip on Lucifer’s shoulder as he spoke, as he knew the next statement to follow would anger him greatly. “I feel as though you also owe Mc a sincere apology as well, given the fact that your willfully disregarded  her pleas to cease the interventions. Clearly it has produced more trauma for her- it’s evident just by looking at her.”

Simeon, Mammon, and Lucifer now had intense stares on the butler. Neither of them quite understood what he was getting at, but the fear in their expressions noted they were beginning to connect the dots. 

Diavolo sighed. “It was for her own good that the procedure continued. I know it was a violation of her consent and she may now be further traumatized by it, but what else could we have done?” 

Barbatos felt his face grow hot with anger and the tone of his voice dripped with contempt. “You could have taken her to a god-damned hospital.” 

Everyone stared at him in shock. He was never one to talk in such a terse tone to the prince of Devildom- who was also his employer. Diavolo refused to meet his intense glare. Clearly he understood the actions of Solomon were wrong, but he was not about to admit it without trying to justify it. 

The words that had been spoken finally processed in Lucifer’s head. He felt his body begin to tremble and the fact that you had once again been violated by someone else, and your pleas for them to cease their actions had been ignored. This time though, it was by someone you considered a friend...Someone you trusted to treat you with respect, and who had instead taken your dignity away when you had just started to give it back. 

For some reason, Lucifer did not feel anger...but he did once again feel the helpless dread that plagued him when he woke on the cement floor without you by his side. He bit down on his cheek, drawing blood from the wound had now been created. His fingernails dug into the skin of his knees as he tried desperately to keep his composure. 

Simeon’s eyes welled with tears and he shot a disgusted look at Solomon. His tone was shaky as he tried to remain calm. “You told her before you started that if she wanted you to stop you would listen! Why didn’t you!?” 

Solomon refused to meet the eyes of anyone else, instead his gaze was locked on his hands as he repeatedly tried to crack his knuckles individually. the nervousness that was displayed in his actions was evident. “I...We needed to finish it. It was imperative. I didn’t have a choice.” 

Mammon finally snapped. He had been quiet this whole time- silently seething and trying to maintain his calm like he and Lucifer had discussed earlier. But now, he had had enough: Enough of Solomon’s piss-poor excuses, enough of Diavolo’s passiveness toward the behavior of the sorcerer, and enough of the heartache he felt at you continuously being hurt. He jolted up out of his chair, and landed a punch square on Solomon’s jaw before his horns could even sprout from his head.

Barbatos was immediately on his feet and restrained Mammon’s arms as he snarled at the sorcerer. “The fuck is wrong with you, huh?! She asks ya to stop, ya fuckin’ stop!”

Solomon was now on the floor, the chair he was once sitting in now overturned by the brute force Mammon had used to attack him. Diavolo and Simeon were at his side in an instant, assessing for if he needed any first aid. 

Mammon continued berating the sorcerer. His voice was booming and intense as he struggled to free himself from Barbatos’ hold. “I don’t give a flyin’ fuck how important ya thought this was. She told your ass to stop! Nothin’ could be so important that her consent didn’t matter no more. Do ya get some sort of sick pleasure from seein’ her in pain?!” 

Lucifer closed his eyes as he felt tears coming on. The commotion around him sounded so distant and muffled, and he almost felt like the world around him was fading away. A sharp ringing that reverberated through his skull was the only thing that grounded him to reality. All he wanted was to see you- to see for himself how you were doing. His chest heaved as his breathing quickened, and his thoughts raced with a mixture of memories from the events that had happened to you- the rape, the look of your mangled body, the fear you displayed at his anger, the way you were held down by his brothers...It all flashed so quickly, he could barely keep up. 

Lucifer’s turmoil was left unnoticed as Mammon’s rage festered. Not a single one of them had seen the 2nd oldest this angry before. While he was obnoxious and loud, he was usually very passive and the threats he would make were vague and had no intentions behind them. Now though, they feared he could give Satan a run for his money at the intensity of his wrath.

“Mammon, I didn’t have a choice!” Solomon winced as he adjusted his jaw. He spat out a tooth that had been knocked loose by the force of his blow.

“Maybe I should make some wider holes in the side of your head so ya can hear better!” He spat, venom soaking the words as they careened from his lips. “I told ya I didn’t give a shit about what ya thought at the time! She didn’t deserve to be abused like that!”

At the last words that flew from his mouth, Solomon’s eyes widened. He didn’t want to consider what he had done as abuse, but as he recalled your pleas for him to stop, and the way he had the brothers hold you down so you wouldn’t move under his touch- he realized that it was exactly what he had done. He knew you were traumatized- that much was evident. But that you would see him as no better than the demon who had raped you? His heart shattered at the idea. 

“Enough.” The soft trembling in Lucifer’s voice was barely audible to the rest of the individuals in the room. “Please...e-enough.” 

All eyes fell to Lucifer. His orbs were glossy with tears as they slid down his cheeks. For the first time, he looked smaller to both Solomon and Simeon. Both had been surprised his wrath had not yet made an appearance, but were even more shocked at how broken he seemed to be in this moment. 

Diavolo moved to kneel in front of Lucifer. Simeon helped Solomon to his feet, while Mammon was completely frozen in place at the sight of Lucifer’s woe. He pressed both of his large hands on Lucifer’s shoulders and met his eyes. “Lucifer...” 

He turned his gaze away and bit back the fresh tears that threatened to spill. 

“Lucifer, I’m sorry.” Solomon blurted from across the room. Somehow, he almost preferred seeing the Avatar of Pride experiencing intense wrath. The way he seemed to crumble before him now...especially with the reasoning being you...it made his chest tighten in regret.

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to escape the images assaulting his mind. He gave no verbal response to the sorcerer, and didn’t acknowledge Diavolo’s tightening grip on his shoulders.

The room was quiet for a moment. Mammon’s demon form slowly dissipated as his anger calmed down, and the only noise that could be heard was small sniffles from Simeon, and Lucifer’s ragged breaths. Before Diavolo spoke, he raised from his position in front of the first born and reached into his coat pocket. 

“Lucifer...and Mammon...I need to give you context into how urgent the matter actually was. I don’t expect either of you to forgive us for being dishonest with you, but I want you to understand...” His hands gripped the small jar and pulled it out delicately as he spoke. He set the jar on the small table that sat in the center of the room and backed away from it slowly, allowing everyone to observe it. 

 Barbatos felt his whole body tense and his grip from Mammon released as he completely turned away from the sight of the embryo. He was the first of the three to understand what it was, and it made him sick to think this was the reality of your situation. 

Mammon approached the jar and picked it up. He squinted at the small fleshy lump that was trapped within the jar. “What the heck is this?”

Diavolo sighed. “It’s…uh-“ He struggled to find the words to describe the embryo without causing a rampage from the two brothers.

“It’s a fertilized egg- an embryo. I removed it from Mc’s uterus.” Solomon stated, sorrowfully.

Lucifer opened his eyes and stole a glance at the jar. His vision blurred and vertigo took over his senses. His stomach churned, threatening to project vomit into his throat. His breathing became uneven and shuddered as the realization of what the thing was dawned on him.

Mammon tightened his grip on the jar as his eyes darted around the room. Panic began to fill his chest. “I…I don’t understand. What are ya saying?!”

“She was pregnant…” Solomon dropped his gaze to the floor as the words died in his throat.

At the confirmation of his fears, Lucifer failed to continue to hold back the utter disgust that had manifested within every corner of his body. His stomach lurched violently and he could no longer contain the bile that was forcing it’s way out of his body. He turned his head away from the others and vomited onto the floor beside him.

Mammon shook his head and slammed the jar back on the table. “N—no. That can’t be true!”

Diavolo sighed and met Mammon’s fearful gaze. “Unfortunately it is. Now do you understand our urgency in doing this procedure?”

Mammon continued shaking his head as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t want to believe that things just kept getting worse for you. How could you live like this?! How could you continue to go on knowing the consequences of your abuse had directly led to this result? His heart ached for you, completely breaking at the knowledge that this is what has become of your life now.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer was finally able to compose himself. He spit the remnants of the bile onto the floor and turned to Solomon. Their eyes met for a moment before he spoke. “I can’t say I forgive any of you for going behind my back.” He took a deep breath, holding down the anger that had finally started to appear within him. “Nor will I forgive you- Solomon- for refusing to acknowledge her desires for you to stop what you were doing.”

Solomon and Diavolo both nodded, completely understanding why that was the case.

“However…” Lucifer’s gaze dropped to the embryo for a moment before he closed his eyes, fighting the urge to expel more tears. “I appreciate that you were able to rid her of this parasite. Thank you.”

Everyone in the room blinking in utter disbelief at Lucifer’s expression of gratitude. He further shocked them as he continued to speak.

“I also want to apologize to both of you- Simeon especially- for my actions.” He peered at the angel through the breaks in his messy hair that fell in front of his eyes. “I was angry- and reasonably so- but the injuries I inflicted on both of you were unnecessary.”

Mammon gaped at Lucifer. Had he heard him right?! He pressed a finger into his ear and turned it in an attempt to clean out what must have been something blockading his actual ability to hear. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you were sorry to them?!”

Lucifer glanced at Mammon and nodded, giving him a signal that he should follow suit. Mammon crossed his arms and turned away, refusing to issue any of them an apology.

“That’s okay.” Simeon gave Lucifer a half-smile. “I don’t think you need to apologize, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Solomon nodded in agreement. “I know we aren’t best friends now. But I do hope you understand where we are coming from.”

Lucifer nodded and turned away from them. The only thing on his mind right now was going to see you. All he wanted was to curl into your warm body and breathe in the delicate floral scent of your shampoo as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“Would you like to see her?” Diavolo chimed in, noticing Lucifer’s longing in his behaviors.

Lucifer perked up and his eyes glistened with hopefulness. “Could I?”

Diavolo stood and nodded. “First, allow the little Ds to tend to your injuries and assist you both in cleaning up.”

As they all stood and exited the dungeons toward the stairs, Lucifer had to refrain from bolting past everyone in his urgency to see you.  He knew you would be panicked if you saw him like this…but god be damned if he wasn’t excited to have you in his arms once again.

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

Lucifer stepped out of the shower, happy to have finally been able to clean himself after the harrowing events of the past 3 days. 

Diavolo had offered him his own room in the castle- requesting that Satan and Asmo share a room with Mammon to give him his privacy- but Lucifer turned him down. He fully intended in staying in whatever room you were currently resting in. Even if you didn’t want him to share the bed with you; he would sleep in an arm chair if it meant he got to finally be near you. 

Instead, Mammon would get the single room. Lucifer reasoned that it would be best for him to have his space from his brothers, given that Mammon had suddenly become more hot-headed over the past few days than anyone could have guessed. He had only used the room to shower off and dress himself presentably- while Mammon waited for his turn to bathe. 

Lucifer exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waste. Mammon sat on the bed scowling at one of the little Ds who had entered the room, holding up outfits for him to choose from after he bathed. 

“That one is too formal!” He snapped, pointing at the dress shirt and tie the small demon held up to him. “What do I look like? A Lawyer or somethin’?!” 

Lucifer let out a small chuckle. “It’s just until we get back to HOL, Mammon. Diavolo was kind enough to special-order clothes for us- we shouldn’t squander the gift.” 

Mammon narrowed his eyes and scoffed. “It seems you’ve quickly gone back to kissing the ground that tyrant walks on in a matter of hours.” 

Lucifer turned and shot him a warning glare as he dropped his towel to change into the clothing the little Ds had picked out for him. “I suggest you really think about if this is the path you want to go down, Mammon.” 

Mammon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the little D. “Fine, I’ll wear that one, but just the shirt and pants. I ain’t wearing no suit jacket and tie.” 

Lucifer stole quick glances at the clock as he dressed. The clothing that was picked for him was similar to his old clothes- a dark button up with black slacks, but the tie that was chosen was a deep Aegean blue. Like Mammon, he decided not to wear the vest or suit-jacket that came with it- instead opting for the simplistic version. Most of the reason for this was the bruises and cuts that still littered his body, in addition to the aches he felt all over as a result of sleeping on the hard ground of the dungeons. Any clothing that restricted his movement too much would result in him eventually being irritable- and that is not how he wanted to greet you after the past few days. 

After Mammon showered and dressed in his brown slacks and white button up, the two were escorted downstairs by the little Ds. They were told that Diavolo was preparing a feast tonight as both an apology for everything that they all have had to go through over the past few weeks, and as a symbol of renewal for the group- as if to suggest that the time spent moving forward would be better. 

Lucifer entered the dining room and was greeted by the site of his brothers- dressed in uncharacteristically formal attire and sitting nervously- waiting for him and Mammon to enter. Diavolo stood as Lucifer entered and Gestured to the seat next to him. Lucifer nodded and dropped his gaze to the floor, moving to take his seat next to Diavolo. 

Asmo Motioned for Mammon to sit next to him and Satan, and Mammon scoffed, turning his attention away. He didn’t want to be here, but especially not sitting across from Solomon. Lucifer cleared his throat and caught Mammon’s gaze, motioning with his eyebrows for him to sit. He let out a groan and dropped into the seat, slouching down and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. 

The only two missing from the table were You, Simeon, and Barbatos. He figured Barbatos was tending to the little Ds in the kitchen, but Lucifer doubted you would be joining them. After all, he figured you probably still wouldn’t be able to move around. Simeon rounded the corner with a beaming smile plastered on his face. He took his seat across from Lucifer and locked eyes with him. His smile grew wider and he dropped his eyes quickly- as if he was hiding some sort of secret. 

Lucifer stared at him suspiciously. Given all of the events that had happened, he wasn’t sure why Simeon would ever think to look at him like that. After all, Lucifer had nearly stripped him of one of the things he cherished so deeply in being an angel. Lucifer thought back to how devastated he had been when he had fallen and his bottom two wings had been mercilessly stripped from his back. At the time of their fight, he thought it was the only way Simeon could have any resemblance of the pain he was feeling of you being hurt again. 

A familiar sound jolted him from his thoughts. He recognized the soft timbre of your voice immediately, and snapped his attention to the door. as if his body was acting without his conscious will, he rose from his chair and immediately straightened his clothes. 

“I’m fine, Barbatos. Really.” You sighed as you stepped cautiously into the dining room. Barbatos had your left hand in his, and his right arm grasped against your waist in order to stabilize you. “It was just a short walk...its not like I-”

You stopped in your tracks after seeing everyone’s eyes looking up to you as you entered. You felt your face flush slightly with embarrassment at being the center of attention, but then your eyes locked with Lucifer. You gaped at him as your legs immediately turned to Jello. You nearly collapsed at the unbelievable sight of your lover- looking as handsome as ever- after not seeing him in days as a result of the recent events that had taken place. If not for Barbatos’ grip on your body, you probably would have passed out right there. 

Lucifer’s breath stilled as you walked into the room. He had not not expected to see you out of bed- nor did he expect to see you dressed so beautifully. Your hair was pulled back in a loose up-do; the intricate [hair color] locks adorned with small silver flowers. You wore a modest floor-length gown that matched the tie Lucifer was given by the little Ds. The dress was speckled with silver glitter- which made you almost look a star shimmering in the night sky. Your makeup was light, but striking- and shimmery silver glow decorated your cheeks as you blushed.

You both stared at each other for a moment- as if you both didn’t truly believe the other was truly standing before you in the flesh. It wasn’t until Diavolo nudged Lucifer with his elbow that he finally snapped out of his daze and quickly moved toward you. You pulled yourself out of Barbatos’ grasp and ran toward him, nearly collapsing as you moved as fast as your weak legs would take you. 

Lucifer met in an instant and wrapped you into a tight embrace, picking you up and spinning you once before setting you back down gently. You nuzzled your face into his chest, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against yours. Lucifer in turn littered the top of your head with gentle kisses, taking in your sweet scent as he did. 

Asmo squealed at the sight, gushing to Satan about how adorable the two of you looked right now, and bragging to the others about how he was the one to do your makeup. Levi then retorted with the fact that he was the one who picked out the beautiful dress from Majolish, so that surely contributed to your radiance. Then, the room was suddenly alive with chatter and laughter- as if whatever tension initially hung above the room was released into the atmosphere. 

Lucifer guided you to your seat at the table gently, ensuring to keep a firm grip on your waist until he was sure you were seated appropriately. He slyly pulled your chair closer to his so that your legs touched under the table, and so he could continue to hold your hips as you sat. Once he finished moving your chair, you leaned your head into his chest and closed your eyes. The noise of the others in the room faded into the background as your ears tuned into the rapid beating of Lucifer’s heart. 

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

Part 10

Tags for those who requested: @kairikazu05 @siniy606 @yukariutena @raeraekubs ​ @hatsunemiku2025 @katesatterfield ​@sg-artem @theonlyroman @wonder-alien @hobin-gnoblin @shawnthecoollesbian​ @luvlyash 

[acircusfullofdemons]

!! 💜✨

[ send "!!" & I'll introduce you to an oc ]

Thank you <3 it's Lannie time now 😎 (hes technically a fictpara bc he's based on Yellow Lantern!Jonathan. but. shush.)

Lannies full name is Lancelot Crowley (he/him). Yes Lannie is short for Lancelot. No you're not allowed to call him that unless your his mom (Sabrina) or his brothers (Noah & Christopher).

He hails from Florida (which explains....so much. everything) and didn't really have a dad growing up bc all of Sabrina's lovers dipped soon after her boys were born (yes they're technically half brothers who cares). Because of this, Sabrina was a single mother and had to work a lot to support the family. Lannie was the middle child (Noah being the oldest & Christopher being the youngest) and often took care of house repairs due to money being tight.

Lannie was picked on a lot during childhood (none of the Crowley's had a....Happy Life, to put it simply). He was a quiet kid who daydreamed a lot and didn’t really have many friends. Easy bully fodder. Eventually he grew up and moved to Prisn Pulse, where he graduated from Pulse University with a chemistry, psychology, & teaching degree. He went on to teach at PU until he got fired bc of his....unsafe teaching methods. He killed everyone involved in his firing and then moved on to become a psychologist at DayBreak Asylum.

His involvement in the murders were soon found out by Agent Owl & Commissioner Cori, leaving Lannie to "defend" himself with a Fear Shard he got from Henry Sinclair (the only other person to wield a Fear Shard). Anyway. Thus his villain career as "Lantern" began! What followed was a series of chaotic crimes meant to strike fear into the citizens of Prism Pulse.

His main opponent was Faith Spade, who weilded a Hope Shard. To sum it up, they sort of fell in love and had Harlow Spade (who I've already talked about lol). But Lannie doesn't know Harlow's his kid, so he thinks they're annoying and getting in the way of his plans.

...at first. Because, again, not a lot of people actually cared about Harlow's well being. Lannie, at the very least, refused to fight a literal 8 year old and was constantly wondering if she should be up to late on a school night. A lot of their bonding, at first, was over Faith because they both missed her (well, Lannie did. Harlow never knew Faith & her dad refused to talk about her). So Lannie told her stories about her mother and it evolved from there. The two form an odd sort of friendship that results in Harlow switching sides and working for Lannie at 15, going by "Mayhem".

Ok personality time 😎 like Harlow, he's a chaotic mess, but a lot more calculated due to his age/experience. He spends way too much time on tiktok and has 0 idea how to use Twitter. He cries everytime his Shard is taken away from him. He's really into old anime and star wars. Overall he's a fucking mess but both I & Harlow love him and claim him as our dad 💛.

Again here's his playlist as a reward for reading all that shit.

[emtornado]

Miraculous but make it Squid Games

Inspired by https://www.instagram.com/p/CUm02T7BCGr/?utm_medium=copy_link

Do I know why I keep making Miraculous posts? Nope. But here we go with another one~

(Also this takes place in Korea cuz I don't know any French children's games and didn't wanna complicate my own life so just roll with it)

Let’s introduce our characters first.

Marinette Dupain Cheng— A French student studying fashion in Korea who has lost all her money and is in severe debt.

Adrien Agreste— Marinette’s friend from France, and a former model who left his father and his company behind to travel the world ending up in Korea where he gets a very interesting offer.

So let’s start with the fact that there are obviously no miraculouses here. Both were two normal students who used to be friends but drifted apart, not even knowing that the other was in the same country, years later.

Marinette, who used to study in Sungkyunkwan University, is completely broke and the only reason she could afford school is because of her parents. Now, with a degree and no jobs (Korea is hard to foreigners, and even after years, that’s what she is to everyone), she's lost all motivation in life. Her sketchbooks, once full of life, now lie empty.

At her lowest moment, Marinette sits at a subway and contemplates what to do with life when a dude comes and offers her money, and all she has to do is play a Korean game. Ending with a stinging cheek and 40,000 won in her hands, the man offers her a card and tells her to think. She gets a lot of money, and all she has to do is play some games.

On the other side, we have Adrien. Adrien, who is more like Chat— confident, witty and VERY flirty. He left his father’s house when he was 18 and has been travelling ever since. He and Nino went to the states, travelled Europe by car, went to India (cuz yes) and currently makes a stop in Korea, where he is approached by a man. This man asks them if they’re up for a job, where they gets a decent amount of money and all he has to do is follow the rules and keep his mouth shut.

Adrien has experienced many things in his life so far, and his money supply is depleting. Thinking of this as some drug shit, he agrees and signs the contract (fucking idiot. After staying with his father and being a model for so long he should’ve known to at least read things properly smh). Seeing him, Nino does too.

Fast forward to the very first game. Adrien has been training for almost a month now and has a little idea of what he’s working for here.

He knows not to ask any questions, to only take the head mask off when he’s in his room and do whatever the man in the black mask tells him to.

He doesn’t ask a single question cuz he’s seen what happens to those who do. What happened to Nino, as his best friend’s brains splattered all across his mask. (sorry, but like. People had to die.)

When the participants play their first game, he doesn’t even flinch at the absolute massacre happening on his screen. He thinks about how nothing can faze him anymore when he catches sight of two pigtails on the screen. Two pigtails that look almost blue under the sun’s glare.

And that is when his stomach DROPS.

Let's yeet back to Marinette. Our sis is dying inside but she WILL NOT die outside. She came here for the money and now she has a greater motivation to survive— her life.

She is the last person in the game— number 467, and all that goes on in her head as three people beside her are shot due to the creepy doll’s eyes is the fact that she will remain the last one standing. It’s not about the money anymore, it’s about survival.

After the first game, when given the option, she presses her hand on the cross without a second’s hesitation.

As she makes her way home, she is relieved, that the torture is over.

And then she meets Adrien.

Back to Adrien. When all the participants head back, he uses two of his precious leave days from this fucked up organisation to track Marinette and meet her. When they do, they fucking collide cuz he saw her almost die and she almost died. They have reason to cling onto one another shush.

And then Adrien tells her. He tells her everything. He tells her what is happening, how many people have died, how Nino had died, and how he needs her help to shut all this down.

Marinette runs away. She doesn’t wanna be there. And then she starts looking at all the chats and pictures of her and Nino. How he was one of her very first friends. And so she goes back to the same cafe and meets Adrien again.

They make a plan. They will make sure she survives, for which she will need allies in the game (not outside the games, cuz she will always have him there).

And so armed with knowledge, Marinette goes back into the game and meets a naïve Korean man who teams up with everyone, a bitch who will survive somehow (and will kill anyone to do so— yes I mean Lila) and a young man who seems so fucking familiar.

And so the games go on and Marinette keeps surviving. And as that happens, she starts to spend her nights in a secluded area with Adrien, where they talk, they reminisce and they find a reason to live in each other.

And then the marble game happens. She partners with the boy, Luka, who turns out to be another face from back home. She partners with him because she trusts him and she is afraid nobody else will partner with him because of the growing bloody wound on his head courtesy of the thugs trying to kill him.

Adrien is the guard assigned to her and Luka, and he watches as Luka slowly and steadily grows more and more out of it and Marinette starts full-on sobbing. Right when the time is about to end, Luka gives his marbles to Marinette and begs her to survive this game and live, and go back to Paris and tell Juleka about all this, as his final goodbye. He looks her in the eyes with a smile until the very last second when Adrien shoots him.

That night, the VIPs arrive and both Mari and Adrien know that they need to move on with their plan, but they spend the whole night by diving tanks they know won’t be used anymore, cuz the Black Mask Man made an example out of everyone who tried to betray him. Marinette is curled into Adrien and in the silence, she vows to end them. That morning (night?) when they are sneaking back, they come into contact with one of the black-masked dudes who would serve the VIPs and Adrien knocks him out and switches outfits.

He kisses Marinette before making his way to the VIP chamber.

Imagine his surprise when after almost half a decade he hears his father’s voice behind the mask of a man wearing an elaborate gold butterfly headset.

He watches in rapt attention as Marinette thankfully chooses number 15, with Lila right in front of her. Now we don’t like Lila (here specifically) because after Tug of War she started to turn people against Marinette, because of whose strategy their team won the game. Marinette was almost killed by many of the thugs in the nighttime because of Lila, and when there’s 30 seconds left and one step left to be determined, Marinette pushes Lila off one and scores victory for her and number 16, Alya Cesaire. (Who is in Korea for journalism internships or some shit and got roped into this because of lack of money, and became Marinette’s greatest ally)

They both know that one of them will die at the end, and so Marinette tells Alya of hers and Adrien’s plan to end this thing once and for all, and so they go and play the final Squid Game, where at the end, Alya very convincingly stabs herself, making Marinette the winner.

On the other side of the glass, Adrien, who has gotten the interest of a disgusting old VIP, puts an idea into his head about how the VIPs should really go and really be in the scene and see what has happened, and that old man, fascinated by the idea of being in the zone, convinces his 'friends' that they should go.

And so they all go, surrounding a blood-soaked and sobbing Marinette and start laughing and congratulating her. (cue Gabriel recognising her and being condescending as fuck. Imagine dialogues like "you had so much potential and now are just reduced to this", which cements the fact that he really is Gabriel Agreste).

That is when Adrien, who was escorting them along with the Black Mask, pulls his gun on them, Alya pulls the knife “out” of her and takes the old fat man who liked Adrien hostage and Marinette pulls out her own knife to Gabriel.

They try to make a deal, and when Gabriel almost gets the better of them (cue seggsy fight scene which I don’t have the words to describe rn) Marinette stabs him in the neck.

After threatening the VIPs and getting all of their identities, as well as the black mask dude’s identity, they go to the nearest police station and give all of their gathered evidence.

Due to the physical and psychological trauma and torture faced by Alya and Marinette, as well as part of a settlement plea from the VIPs, they both get all the money.

The two girls plus Adrien fly out to France and reconcile with their families. Adrien and Marinette visit Nino’s family, Juleka and Rose and as many of the people as they can.

The two of them get a small apartment together, unlike the huge mansion that Adrien was left after Gabriel’s death (which he sells and uses the money to be given to all the victim's families)

He also becomes the owner of Gabriel, and with Marinette turns it over into a completely different company (cuz Gabriel was one corrupt bastard)

And so they live happily with weekly therapy sessions and a traumatic, but happy ending.

Gods I need help, I wrote almost 2000 words for this lol. Maybe I'll write this properly someday hahaha.

[cacoetheswriting]

chasing a feeling pt. III - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, implied smut (nothing explicit), kinda angsty, kinda fluffy Word Count: 2.3k Summary: this is part three: Spencer has a habit of showing up at your door in the middle of the night. A/N: italics are memories/flashbacks. also sorry this took so long omg!!

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

-

The case concluded a couple of days later. Days which consisted of ignoring Spencer; unless absolutely necessary. Days spent trying not to look at him, days spent pretending you weren't thinking about him, his touch, or that night you spent together.

It was incredibly hard to concentrate on quite literally anything. 

The night you got home from the work trip was a sleepless one. You tossed and turned, anxious about seeing the brunette doctor the next day. You couldn't help but wonder how the two of you will act around one another now that you were back on common ground. How your dynamic will be now that you weren't working a case. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that you weren't the only one feeling restless. A knock on your door caused you to hop out of bed and wander towards it. Letting a yawn escape your lips you looked through the peephole to check who was on the other side. Spencer.

Quickly, you opened the door. The young doctor looked up from the ground and greeted you with a timid smile. 

“Spencer, what are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know it’s late but-” He cleared his throat. “-can we please talk?” He asked while staring deep into your eyes. You nodded after a brief moment and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. 

Spencer sat down on the couch, glancing around your apartment in the process. The place wasn’t fully decorated yet. A number of cardboard boxes were stacked on top of one another in the corner of the living room, clearly still full. The TV lay on the floor, cables tangled, and beside it was a half-opened suitcase with your go-bag thrown hastily on top. 

You asked if he wanted a coffee, or anything else to drink, but he politely shook his head ‘no’ so you situated yourself on the opposite end of the couch and waited for him to tell you why he was here.

Silence enveloped around the room. Suddenly afraid to say anything, in case it ended up in another argument, the brunette doctor nervously fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. You were slightly taken aback by his nervous demeanour, it was completely different to the way he acted around you the last week.

It reminded you of when you were younger. The shy, awkward, slightly closed-off Spencer. The guy who wouldn’t hold your hand or at time was afraid to meet your gaze, the guy that didn’t understand the sarcastic jokes you made. It made your heart ache a little.

Finals were approaching and they were approaching fast. Everyone said law school would be hard. Long hours, extensive curriculum, sleepless nights, projects, essays, case-studies. The list goes on.

It didn't help that you were a lot younger than your fellow classmates. Being an ambitious and driven kid you managed to skip a few grades and get an undergraduate degree in psychology at a very young age. Law school seemed like the logical next step although now you were thinking about giving up.

With junior year coming to an end, you constantly wondered whether this should be the end of your law career. Perhaps there was something better out there for you. Something easier, and not as draining. You weren't a quitter, far from it, but this was too much for a single person to handle.

It was Friday night, and yet currently you were curdled up on the library floor rather than at some frat party. Piles on piles of books and encyclopaedias formed around you as you worked away on your end of term paper. 

A not so quiet yawn escaped your lips. Followed by another. Leaning back against the shelf behind you, you closed your eyes. Honestly, you could fall asleep here, now. 

It was in that moment of silence you heard a shuffling sound approaching your location between the aisles of books. Slowly, you flushed your eyes back open to analyse your surroundings - see who it was that disturbed your peace. 

A scrawny boy stood just a few feet away, deeply focused on the collection of titles in front of him. The boy was around your age. Tall. You could see remains of gel in his short brown hair; which was now quite messy. He was dressed in a slightly oversized sweater, underneath he wore what looked like a neatly ironed shirt, and a dark bag was draped loosely over his shoulder. 

“Hello.” You said. His head instantly snapped in your direction. 

“H-hi.” He replied sheepishly. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.” His soft demeanour made you smile. “Oh, I wasn't actually sleeping. Just resting my eyes for a second.” 

The boy nodded. You waited for him to say something but he didn't so you reached out your hand. 

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” 

His gaze travelled to your hand before moving back up to meet yours. He didn't move any closer, and you could sense he grew a little uncomfortable, so you let your hand fall down to your lap.

“I’m Spencer.” He cleared his throat. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Your eyes widened a little at his esteemed title. “Doctor?” 

Spencer’s nose twitched gently. 

“I have Ph.D’s in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.” He retorted causing your mouth to part in shock. “Holy shit.” Pause. “Wow, and here I thought I was the resident genius having one silly undergraduate degree.” You joked; but the young doctor didn't laugh. He simply stared at you, a kind look spread across his face.

“W-what are you studying now?” Spencer asked, motioning to the stakes of books around you.

“I’m in law school.” You replied. “Failing miserably to write my stupid end of term paper.” Sigh. “One of many actually.” 

Spencer took one step forward. “M-maybe I can help?” He offered. “That is really kind of you but unless you have a law degree you haven’t mentioned yet, I don't know how you would be able to help.” 

“I don’t have a law degree, but I have an eidetic memory.” He said, nervously tugging at the strap of his bag. “I-if that’s of any help to you.” 

The smile on your face grew wider. “Well Spencer, now you’re just showing off.” 

It was at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such ease, the brunette doctor finally smiled. And holy smokes did he have a pretty smile. Your heart skipped a beat as his face illuminated. 

“But you convinced me.” You added while getting up on your feet. You picked up your things along with as many books as you could carry. Spencer shuffled toward you, and while keeping his distance, he bent down to pick up the remaining items. 

“Why are you here Spencer?” You finally asked breaking the silence.

The brunette agent tilted his head in your direction, eyes locking with yours once again causing the air to catch briefly in your chest.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that what happened between us the other night, that wasn’t some ploy to get you to stay.” He stated. “I tried to explain that to you but you never really gave me a chance.” Pause. “Y/N, I want you to stay. Not for me but because you deserve to be a part of this team.”

“I appreciate you saying that Spencer. Truly.” A small smile graced your facial features. The brunette doctor smiled down at his hands. “But you didn’t have to come here in the middle of the night to tell me that. It could have waited.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Spencer smirked before clearing his throat. He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. “I guess I just wanted to see you.” You bit down on your bottom lip the second he said that, your heart skipping a beat. Spencer shifted closer to you. Without really thinking about it, you also moved in his direction. Your knees now touching. 

“You know, communication was never our strong suit. For two people with psychology degrees you would think we’d be better at it.” You muttered making Spencer laugh. The smile on your face slowly faded. “Maybe we’re too similar, maybe that was our downfall.” 

Spencer lifted his hand, reaching out for yours which was currently placed on your lap. He intertwined his fingers with yours. “In reality, opposites don’t attract.” The brunette doctor noted. “You’re more likely to be attracted someone who thinks the same as you do.” 

In the space of a heartbeat, without giving you a chance to reach, Spencer leaned in. His lips brushed against yours; electricity shooting through your body. His free hand found its way to your face, and he cupped your cheek. As seconds passed you pushed yourself into him more. Fuck. Should you be doing this?

You hurried through the halls, slaloming between the groups of students making their way peacefully to class. A feeling of excitement filled you from head to toe; excitement you only wanted to share with one specific person. 

Spencer was sat in your now usual spot at the university library. Two coffees in front of him, one for you. 

A sort of routine emerged since the two of you first met. It started out for purely academic purposes, but in the last week especially it evolved into something different. A friendship perhaps? No. It felt more than that although neither of you could quite describe it

“I did it!” You exclaimed while sitting down beside the young doctor - getting a dirty look from the librarian in the process. She shushed you before returning to whatever it was she was doing. You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Spencer. “I am officially done with all my papers and assignments.”

“I’m happy for you Y/N.” Spencer smiled.

“Well, I couldn't have done it without you.” You beamed at him. “I don’t know how I will ever thank you Spencer.” He shrugged his shoulders.  

“Come on genius, there must be something I can do for you.”

The brunette doctor cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze. “I-I have t-two tickets to this convention, but you wouldn't be interested.” You raised an eyebrow while reaching for one of the coffees on the table. Lifting the lid to your lips you smiled. “It’s a date.”

Spencer’s hands were now holding onto your waist. He lifted you up in one swift motion, without breaking the kiss, so that you were now cradling his lap. You held his face, the tips of your fingers wrapping in his light brown curls. 

Any reservations you had just a moment ago were now forgotten. You were completely lost in him, just as he was in you. 

As your mouth parted, Spencer’s tongue crept between your lips meeting yours. Instantly, your tongues began to play back and forth. Heads tilting side to side to vary pressure. 

Spencer’s strong hands began to travel up your body. They moved from your waist; slightly messing up your shirt in the process and sending a shiver down your spine. They stopped once they reached your neck, giving it a light squeeze. You couldn't help but moan against his hot mouth. 

“I honestly don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.” You breathed happily as you and the young doctor walked down the busy street after the convention. “You don’t have to say that Y/N.” Spencer said, nervously tugging at the bottom of his shirt. 

“Are you kidding? Spencer, today was amazing!” You beamed throwing your hands up in the air. “I was supposed to be making it up to you for your help with my papers but instead you treated me to another great day.” 

Spencer chuckled lightly. He loved seeing you this happy. The more he thought about it, the more he realised how many things he actually loved about you. But it made him nervous because what if he didn't just love things like your laugh or your attitude. What if in fact he was in love with you.

“I guess we’re going to have to go on another date.” You teased. Spencer’s nose twitched but he didn't say anything. His lack of response caused you to stop in your tracks. The young doctor mimicked your move and also stopped, just a step ahead of you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed. 

“Why are you sorry?” Spencer asked confused.

“I just, I called today our date and I don’t want you to think I expect anything. I know the idea of dating can make you uncomfortable.” Your mouth flipped into a half-smile. “I like hanging out with you Spencer. I enjoy your company, and I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.” 

“I like hanging out with you too.” 

“Really?” “O-of course I do Y/N.” He smiled nervously. “I-I would like to go on more dates with you. You’re like a breath of fresh air.” Your face flushed red at his comment. Something Spencer noticed immediately. Without really thinking, he reached out his hand and gently caressed your cheek. 

Your heart stopped. This was the first time he had touched you, ever. It was the first time you felt his soft skin against yours. You wanted desperately to lean into his touch but you didn't want to scare him off so you stood still, taking a mental picture of this moment. 

Very slowly the two of you broke apart. The brunette doctor looked deep into your eyes; what he saw was longing, fervour. He felt the exact same. 

Between the constant fights and misunderstandings it felt wrong to feel this strong desire to one another. This strong pull. It felt almost toxic. But Spencer shook the invasive thought away, his lips once again meeting yours. 

“Would you like to move this to the bedroom?” You suggested in a mere whisper in between kisses. Spencer nodded. His hands situated themselves on your bum. The brunette agent picked you up allowing you to swiftly wrapp your legs around him. He carried you to the bed, kicking the door shut behind you with his leg. 

-

story taglist: @ashwarren32, @haylaansmi, @spencersblog, @lovebodymindstuff, @april-14-blog, @wooya1224, @chevyimpala00067, @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​

masterlist

[jenniferroland]

[starter for @loverot​]

"If you can look at what's there and not eat yourself hollow with shame, you are not human anymore."

Transferring out of Mount Massive to play brain scrambler in the middle of the Arizona desert was hardly a step up. She’d put in a request for leave numerous times and been denied on the grounds that her research skills and capability as a pathologist made her “too valuable an asset” to allow her to be off the asylum campus for any extended period of time. But when a handful of her female coworkers began experiencing hysterical pregnancies from proximity to the Engine, she was suddenly a liability instead. Never mind that she experienced precisely no negative effects from it; if anything, her mind felt sharper when working on location than it ever did in remote labs, like popping a handful of Adderall. 

The segregation came without warning. Experiments and treatments went unfinished; communications went dark; theories withered and died without the proper environment in which to nurture them. Uprooted and shipped away to some toxic waste dump, Jennifer Roland never felt more useless. 

Day in and day out, she sat behind a monitor, watching religious fanatics of varying degrees of insanity fight and fuck and feast and absolutely slaughter one another. The scheduled bursts from the Towers would resound, the crew inside the lead-insulated concrete shelters would shield their eyes, and shortly thereafter, an all-out shitfest would ensue on the screens in front of them. Recovery teams were dispatched to covertly collect any bodies they could, which were promptly tossed onto the slab in the operating theatre or iced in the morgue. Occasionally, they’d get a few on the table who just refused to fucking die, and in more than one instance, Roland would return to her quarters with a black eye or finger-shaped bruises branded into her throat. 

“That’s why you get hazard pay,” she can recall Jeremy Blaire assuring her over drinks. “Relax, Jen. The building is radiation-proof. The radio waves can’t hurt you in there.”

Once rare, those desperately clinging to existence (it could hardly be called life by the time they’d arrived at the lab) were showing up in higher and higher numbers. Their presence always fucked with the medical equipment — due to the high levels of radiation they were exposed to, she was assured by Dr. Ewen Cameron — but more than that, it was affecting people: relief nurses, research assistants, those who had the least contact with them. It was Cameron himself who paged her into the telemetry lab to show her the increase in radio wave blips on the radar, seemingly organic hotspots of radiation cropping up out of nowhere. The “feedback loop,” he’d called it: such prolonged exposure to such vulnerable individuals mutated them from receivers to projectors. 

These unholy fucks were walking nuclear reactors, and they were bleeding it inside the lab.

Between autopsies of lunatics and treatment of her infected staff, Roland accumulated the most exposure to these residual waves, which is perhaps why she held out the longest. While others were rushing to the bathrooms to puke their guts out or sobbing into their workstations, Roland kept the Towers from collapsing under its own weight. Just like she had at Mount Massive, at least in her own mind. Such responsibility, of course, takes its pound of flesh, resulting in a sharp uptick of headaches and irritability in the doctor.

In fact, she kept an iron grip on the facility, even as employee numbers began to drop. Some transferred; some just dropped dead. All were required to vacate the operating sector by 22:00 hours so that it could be “defunked” for the next day. Roland, of course, oversaw this expedition, which usually consisted of hanging out in a hazmat suit and surfing what little internet they were allowed access to while the facility was cleansed. The longer she sat at the computer, the more severe her migraines would become, which she chalked up to blue light exposure. 

But when the urgent email alert – MOUNT MASSIVE ASYLUM STAFF EVACUATION – popped up in her notifications, the pain in her skull went from throbbing to blinding. The computer mouse flew from her hand and shattered on the floor as she dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, desperate to relieve the pressure behind them. Searing white heat tears at her retinas and she’s utterly convinced that her brain is hemorrhaging. 

Through that glaring light appear misty shadows of men in lab coats, blurred as if through a foggy camera lens: men with clipboards and scalpels and blue latex gloves. A scrawny lad in his early twenties wriggles futilely on the table, strapped to the gurney by too-tight leather restraints around his limbs and forehead. He’s fully conscious but barely cognizant of anything but fear. She can hear the low timbre of male voices floating around her, murmuring words she cannot or perhaps will not comprehend. Her focus is on the young man before her and the muffled syllables he attempts to utter from beneath his oxygen mask. Cutting through the underwater noise is the sound of her own name, sharp and deliberate, and her gaze falls to the laryngoscope clutched tightly in her left hand. 

Shifting behind the boy on the table, she adjusts her grip on the tool and removes the oxygen mask from his face. He’s drooling quite profusely. With the sleeve of her right arm, she gently mops up his mess before prying his mouth open with her fingers. At this moment, his eyes snap up to hers, pupils blown wide with terror, and though his movement is highly restricted, it’s evident he’s trying to shake his head. The raspy frantic whisper of “no, no, no” does nothing to phase her colleagues. She attempts to quiet him with a soft shushing (to absolutely no avail) and inserts the curved blade into his throat. Tears, mucus, and saliva flow together as he struggles to breathe; his eyes plead for mercy, the lightless gaze of a soul all but relinquishing itself to the higher power of Death. As she preps the endotracheal tube for insertion, Jenny tries to swallow her nerves but they catch in her throat, dry and brittle. Guilt won’t save them now. 

“Oh, God, please—”

Roland’s torn out of the vision by the inescapable urge to vomit and she rolls onto her side to wretch away the venom in her memories. With no recollection of how exactly she ended up on the floor ten feet away from the monitors, she pushes herself up and wipes away the acid from her lips. Just like she had in her memory. 

And she feels sick all over again, but not just for the fate of that patient: for all the rampant fuckery shoveled upon her by Murkoff. Psychological manipulation, radiation poisoning, blatant sexism. She enlisted in this army to study genetics, not to torture the cognitively vulnerable to the brink of insanity. 

Fuck Jeremy Blaire. Fuck Murkoff. Fuck this Project Bluebird bullshit. 

On the way out the door, she flicks a half-smoked cigarette into the server room trashcan to trigger the emergency sprinkler system. Whoops.

                                                     * * * * * * * * *

She never liked the company cars, anyway.

As the frame of the Mercedes rolls into the lake behind her (and with it all traces of her identity), Jennifer Roland makes her way through the Mount Massive Wilderness Reverse to the runoff reservoir. Armed with only an industrial flashlight-stun gun and her unlisted phone, she’s well aware that this mission will more than likely be her last. But when you’ve got nothing to lose and an insatiable hunger for vengeance, death doesn’t seem so bad.

Tucking her hair up under her cap and securing her phone in the zippered pocket of her plastic splash suit, she hoists herself up into the drainage pipe that pours into the lagoon from the sewers. The hospital isn’t even visible from this side of the mountain; according to her map, it’s about ten miles through a sea of blood, shit, and god knows what else to Mount Massive Asylum. If she’d ever wondered how Andy Dufresne felt escaping Shawshank, this is about as close as it gets.

Rats and snakes are her only company for the first several miles but in the last stretch of three, the scent of fresh death hits her like a brick wall. Mutilated corpses litter the pathways, slipping into the murky sewage and compounding the horrific stench. The closer she comes to her destination, the more pungent the odor becomes until she’s stumbling upon half-dead patients and doctors alike, as lifeless and miserable as the Temple Gate victims. The feeling of another impending migraine strikes her but she presses onward. She’s not sure what’s more unsettling: the gut-wrenching screams coming from above her head or the periodic gaps of silence between.

Drenched in blackwater, Jenny navigates her way up into the hospital block, only to be met with the gory sight of her colleagues and former patients strewed about the ward like discarded toys. She stands gravely still listening for anything — a scream, a whisper, a breath — but no sound breaks the stony silence. The only living presence in the block appears to be a few very persistent bees buzzing around her head. The doctor carefully peels away her suit and the clothes underneath, tucking them away in an air vent and replacing them with the least fluid-drench patient uniform she can find. Thank you for your sacrifice, 937. 

Jenny’s exceedingly careful not to cause too much commotion with the beam of her flashlight as she stalks into the hospital security station and logs in under one of her former colleague’s ID. The security footage tapes appear to be highly corrupted, with some of the cameras shorting out completely, but through the hazy grey static, she can just make out a man’s shadow: impossibly tall, grainy, almost translucent, as though it were comprised solely of smoke. Shredding through its victims like razors through tissue paper. Clearly, this storm of fuck is just beginning.

“Ain’t a perdy sight, is it?” 

Hot, humid breath hits the back of her neck before she can react and a spindly hand clamps down on her wrist. 

“Not as perdy as them nails, brudder.”

“Don’t talk ‘im t’death. Get the goat and go.”

“Awful s-sorry ‘bout this, boy, but I gotsta.”

Jenny’s not keen to stick around to find out what exactly it is this dissociative man “gotsta” do. Firing up the switch on the stun gun, she jabs the pointed prongs into his throat and digs in. His grip on her tightens before it releases, the perp collapsing to the ground and clutching his bleeding neck with a frankly overdramatic gurgle. 

Roland flees through a labyrinth of plastic wrap and broken gurneys, but the heavy slap of bare feet limping on the floor behind her soon catches up. And just as she looks over her shoulder to catch sight of him, her ankle snags against a tripwire, knocking her face-first into the bloodied tile. That fall triggers the release of two sheets of barbed wire that rattle towards her, coiling around her legs and torso; clearly, this trap was meant for a bigger monster than her. The barbs easily rip through the uniform fabric to sink into her thighs, calves, stomach. The more she wriggles, the deeper they sink, and the shards of shattered glass on the floor only amplify the pain.

Her only chance to protect herself is the flashlight that launched no more than a foot away during the fall. If she can just tear her arm free-

The arch of a dirty foot secures its grip on the flashlight handle.

“Just like a coward t’run. That won’t do at-tall, Dennis.”

“You shouldn’ta run, boy. Now you’ll be all bloody fer the weddin’.”

He picks up the flashlight and turns it over in his hand, checking the weight and feel of it; he decides he likes it. 

He likes it even more when it cracks like a Louisville slugger against her temple.

                                                     * * * * * * * * *

Her muscles are stiff and achy when she regains consciousness, somehow sore and numb at the same time. The swelling beside her left eye blurs her vision slightly, but she knows she’s in some sort of chop shop, upright in a DIY-patient restraint system that would make even Hannibal Lecter shudder. Her instinct is to attempt another escape, to writhe her way out of these straps if she has to chew her shoulder off to do it. There’s no telling how much time she has before someone-

...Whistling.

[asscrackcreed]

Meet the Characters

Everyone

Either in college/university (idk i’m from london so i have no idea what Americans say, I don’t call it major, I call it degree) or has a job, some have both! The Agony! All the main characters know each other, but they don’t know all the side characters. Those who go to college are in the same one but have different majors (obviously).

Altaïr, Auditores, Desmond and Kenways are cousins (big family ik shush)

The Kenways are brothers

Altaïr and Kadar work in retail, Desmond and Alexios are bartenders, Connor and Arno work in a cafe, Edward and Jacob do delivery, Bayek and Kassandra wait tables, Malik is a market researcher

Desmond

engineering major/degree, baby, lives with Arno on campus, gamer

Altaïr

Art major/degree, very close with Malik and Kadar but the three always argue, childhood friends with Malik and Kadar

Malik + Kadar

history and IT majors/degrees, Malik lost his arm in a burning building, Kadar is alive, all three live together

Ezio

Literature major/degree, met Leonardo (art major) in high school and now live together on campus, usually throws parties

Connor

history major/degree, lives with Edward and Haytham (hates it), close with Bayek and Aveline

Haytham

literature major/degree, not in college, dating Shay

Edward

sports major/degree, the messy one of the three... always at an Auditore party, not in college, is dating Adéwalé / James Kidd is a trans man (Mary Reed being his dead name)

Shay

engineering major/degree, lives alone, lonely..., not in college, dating Haytham

Arno

literature major/degree, lives with Desmond, dating Jacob

Jacob + Evie 

sports and psychology majors/degrees, live together, gamers and both are nerds no matter how much Jacob may deny..., Jacob is dating Arno

Bayek

literature major/degree, lives alone, gamer and nerd, very close with Connor and Aveline

Alexios + Kass

chemistry and history majors/degrees, live together on campus, both very close with the Chaotic Group (Jacob, Edward, Arno and Ezio)

Eivor

soon...

[alaina-achilles]

i

((practice challenge - all prompts included here:))

Dreams.

Dreams are a funny thing, right? As a kid, you have so many dreams, I’m gonna be this when I grow up, I’m gonna wear this when this happens…

But how many do those actually happen?

I always feel like I dream differently than other people. Well, not all dreams, but some particular ones. And when I have a dream that I feel so strongly about (usually they are things that I actually dreamed about during my sleep), I write it down, in my dreams notebook. And well, there were so many of them.

Okay, I’m getting distracted again. So, right now, I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom, screaming.

Because I have just graduated from college and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with. My. life!!

“Alaina?” Mila, my younger sister asks as she runs into my room and jumps onto my bed. “What happened? Who broke up?”

“The prince and Evie.” Another voice says and we both turn around to face our older sister.

“That’s old news, Lexi.” Mila drawls. “The Selection’s here already. Remind me again why aren’t you guys applying?”

Lexi rolls her eyes and pushes Mila to make space for herself on my bed.

“Well, back to the drama queen here. What happened?” Lexi asks, looking at me in confusion. Mila follows her gaze before they drop to the sheets of paper on my desk.

“What are those?” Mila asks in curiosity. She makes a move to take one of them, but I beat her to it by shoving them all into a messy pile.

“That.” I say as I shove them into a folder and slip it in between two books. “Is private.”

Well, they are actually job applications. I got a bit impulsive just now and flipped through my notebook of dreams, randomly selecting a few dreams, printed out the job application forms and filled them in.

“It’s not important.” I add as I see my sisters looking at me with narrowed eyes. “They were just weird random stuff that I did which I should’ve never done and I will throw them away tomorrow afternoon.”

“You can always be a teacher.” Lexi comments, knowing what I’m stressing about. “Mom likes her job a lot.”

“But I’m not Mom.” I point out as I flop onto the bed next to them. “I mean I love kids, but I just… I just can’t see myself being a teacher. Nor a lawyer like you.”

“I’m gonna be a psychologist. A therapist. A something related to psychology.” Mila replies happily. Sometimes I wish I was 13 as well. She turns around to face me. “And as a future psychologist, I think you should give writer another try. I mean you have published a book!!”

“But it’s not a best-seller. It’s only popular because it’s about a cliche bad boy story that many teenage girls like reading about.”

“That’s not true. I think there’s a lot of potential in your writing. You just need to have inspiration, write a good book and be famous.” Mila finishes with a smile.

“I think Mila’s got a point there. Just give it a go. One year. And if you aren’t writing a best-selling novel at the end of the year, just become a psychologist like Mila will be. You have the bachelor degree.” Lexi points out. I think about what my sisters said and decide they are right.

I’m gonna give writing another try.

----

“ALAINA LEXI MOM DAD COME NOW!” I hear Mila screaming from the bottom of the stairs. I put down my book in annoyance and go downstairs.

“What is it, honey?” Mom asks.

“THEY’RE GONNA ANNOUNCE THE SELECTION RESULTS!!!” Mila all but screams.

“Oooooh!” I cry. “I do wanna watch this! Dramaaa” I sing.

“I don’t know why you two are so excited for this! It’s not like any of us entered our name.” Lexi drawls, but sits down next to us on the couch while our parents sit down as well with an amused smile.

“I know many girls who did. I would like to see who’s gonna be on the tv screen for the next few months.” I explain, without looking away from the tv screen. The TV zooms to a closed up of the Prince who has a relaxed smile on his face that does not really reach his eyes. I don’t blame the guy though, it must be rough for him to jump from a supposedly stable relationship to well, 35 girls. Definitely glad I’m not the prince.

“Maybe it’ll be Delilah. She’s pretty and nice.” I comment.

“Or Faye. She’ll be quite the drama queen.” Lexi says.

“SHUSH!” Mila hisses. Lexi and I roll our eyes at each other and turn back to the screen.

“Miss Alaina Achilles of Atlin, Three.” The reporter announces.

Alain-

WAIT WHAT??

I vaguely hear my family screaming and questioning me, but I can’t hear anything except my heartbeat as I run into my room to check the folder that I meant to throw away a few afternoons ago but forgot.

It’s gone.

And then I scream.

Because, one of my dreams I made when I was six was to be in the Selection, to be a princess. And I thought it’d be fun to fill in the application a few days ago. BUT I NEVER MEANT TO SEND IT.

Then my eyes widen as I realize what must have happened.

“CAMILA DAISY ADRIANNA ACHILLES. I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH!” I yell as I run downstairs to kill my younger sister.

----

Four hours later. I’ve finally stopped screaming and attempting to murder my sister.

“How did you even do that, Mil? I thought you had to have your photo taken and everything?” Dad asks.

“Um… I kinda wrote a letter saying that Alaina isn’t feeling well and can’t make it to the applications and sent in a photo instead.” Mila explains in a small voice. “I swear I didn’t know they would allow that…”

“Wait…” I say suddenly. “If you sent out my application. SHIT MILA DID YOU SEND OUT ALL OF THOSE APPLICATIONS I FILLED OUT?”

“Language!” Mom cries but we all ignore her. It’s not like I ever swear anyways.

“Yeah… All six of them.” Mila admits in a quiet voice.

“AND THIS GETS EVEN BETTER!” I yell, throwing my arms into the air. “Do you know what those applications are? As an elf writing letters back to children for Santa Claus, and… and.. And… I don’t even want to rename the applications i filled out for. They were all crazy.” I mumble to myself. “Maybe the Selection is already the least craziest one.”

“See?” Mila says gleefully.

“Oh shut up, you little- I can’t even find any words to describe you. I’m not talking to you.” I yell in anger. With that I storm up the stairs into my room.

Oh no.

What has my little sister got me into?

----

By the time I am to leave Atlin, I am feeling slightly better about this whole thing. Thanks to Lexi and Dad. They convinced me that this will be a nice and unique experience and a change of scenery will probably give me more inspiration for my writing. And I finally get to be on a plane! I’ve never been on the plane before, not because we can’t afford it, but Mom has an extreme fear of flights. We usually went travelling in other means of transport.

My heart is pounding in my ears as I climb the stairs up to the plane. This is it. I’m going to be on a plane!

"Sorry if I'm bothering you, but I'm Sara Nguyen. I hope we can be plane buddies? And who knows maybe a permanent bud for the rest of the selection?" A voice says, interrupting my thoughts. I look up to see a girl smiling at me. She motions at my luggage. "Would you like a hand?"

My eyes widen as I realize she must be another selected. Wow, this is really happening, I’m really in the Selection. I quickly collect my thoughts and straighten my clothes to make sure it’s tidy. My parents have always taught us to be clean and tidy, especially in front of strangers.

“hi Sara! I’m Alaina Achilles! Sure I would love to!” I say to Sara with a bright smile. “and thanks for offering, but I think I got this!” I place the luggage to its place and sit down next to the empty spot next to Sara. I look at the two girls opposite to us, one is falling asleep and the other barely acknowledges us. Well, I guess not every Selected is nice. So I turn to Sara instead, she seems nice. “Have you ever been on a plane before?”

She tells me about the times she’s travelled and when she learns that this is my first time, she surprises me again by offering her hand for me to squeeze.

“I-“ l begin as I look at Sara’s hand hesitantly. “I mean thats very nice of you bu-“ the plane starts to move and my eyes start to widen and immediately reach forward to squeeze Sara’s hand. She is nice enough to pretend not to see my hesitation and just let me hold her hand while she talks me through the take off. I like this girl. I decide.

“Thanks. But you’re right, I’m glad I got on this plane! At least now I have a new friend?” I ask. I have never been alone without at least one of my sisters with me before and I know I will miss them very much.

"Just holler my name and I'll be there for anything. I've got tips for most things. If not I'll create one on the spot." Sara answers with a nod. I do a happy dance internally. "I think we are indeed friends. After all it would be rather awkward if two strangers held hands. Either way I'm glad we both get to be on the same flight." She proceeds to tell me about her favorite things about being on a plane and I look out the window and agree with her. The view is amazing! We chat more about the flying experience and being the writer I was, I tell her how lovely it’ll be to be able to write about this experience. My new friend immediately offers me her notebook, but I once again decline politely. I know once I start writing, I’ll ignore everything around me and I don’t want to do this to Sara and miss the opportunity to get to know her. So I just tell her that I’ll do it later and enjoy the moment now.

Sara asks me if I’ve ever written anything that she might’ve read. I hesitate as I thought of my published book. A few years ago, at 16, I wrote a cliche bad boy story named “the Bad Boy Ruined my Project” and published it online. Because it’s cliche and about bad boys, teenage girls immediately took a liking to it and two years later, I got a publishing offer. I was ecstatic and accepted it. Ever since then, my agent has been pushing me to write a new book. And that’s when it became complicated. I was 16 when I wrote that cliche book and at 18, I’ve matured and changed and honestly, my book wasn’t that well-written, it just suited the taste of what teenage girls wanted to read. I’ve tried telling this to my agent and she kept telling me that was bullshit and if I wanted to be a famous writer, I had to please my readers. This is one of the reasons why I decided to start thinking of pursuing another character. I want to write things that I want to write, not just things people want me to write about.

But at the end of the day, I am grateful for my book and its success. At least it got me noticed.

So I tell her about my published book and she tells me about her career. Sara is to take over her dad’s company. Sensing this isn���t her favorite topic to talk about, I change the topic and ask her about siblings.

We quickly get into a fun conversation about siblings and I can already tell we’re going to be the best of friends in the Selection. Hopefully.

And for a while, I feel like I’m home again as we laugh and joke about the Selection. About how dramatic it will be with 35 girls under the same roof, going after the prince. About how weird it will be to have a brother joining the selection! (Sara said her brother almost joined HAHA). We are enjoying our conversation so much that I don’t even notice we have landed.

"We're here," Sara breathes out as we both look out the window. I smile as I take in the surroundings around me. I’ve been here before during a long road trip, but the airport is totally new to me.

“It’s beautiful!” I exclaim. Then, I turn to face Sara and put out a pinky. “Okay before we get off, let’s make a pact. Let’s promise to let this selection ruin our budding friendship.”

"It honestly is. Last time I came here I was 13 years old." Sara replies with a shake of her head. She  looks at me and smiles as she sticks her pinky out and links it with mine. "I promise that this selection will not ruin our friendship. You know you can call me by any nickname. I prefer them rather than Sara. My family call me bun."

And she manages to surprise me for the third time. Wow, a nickname. I can tell it’s not something she goes around letting people use.

I laugh and give her a hug. “Bun.” I say. “I love that. it’s so cute and so you!” We break away when one of the other girls clears her throat and tell us it’s time to go. I smile embarrassingly and roll my eyes at my new friend as we begin our journey to the palace. And because of Sara, I already feel a hundred times better about the selection. If all goes wrong, I know at least there will be one genuine friend who will go through all of this with me together.

"This is reserved for you. It's strange if someone else calls me that. So welcome to the Bun club." She says with a straight face but that didn't last long because she ends up giggling. She shakes her head as the other girls hurry us. "Well, let's see what is awaiting us." She smiles encouragingly at me.

I laugh at her words and nod. “Honored to be in the club.” I look at the other girls amusedly, as they check their makeup. “Let’s see!” I say as I pull my new friend along with me.

Sara nods as she links arms with me humming happily as we both get off the plane. "By any chance can I call you Al?" She pauses as she thinks about other nicknames. "Or Lai? Or Achi! Or do you already have a nickname you are comfortable with?”

I cock my head to the side and think about her question. I don’t really have a cute nickname or anything like hers.

“My sisters call me A.” I say with a giggle. “But Achi sounds so cool as well! Just call me either!” I add, like the sound of Achi.

"I'll call you, Achi then!" She replies with a grin. "It's my own personal nickname.”

“Achi.” I repeat quietly with a smile as I follow the guards escorting us.

Bun and Achi.

I like this combo.

----

Sara and I enter the palace together where we are immediately ushered into a huge room. People keep pushing me from stall to stall, asking me questions, but answering those questions themselves before I can even think of an answer. Luckily, they didn’t need to do too much to my hair and body as Mom always makes sure we are well um groomed. I only got my nails painted and fitted into a red dress. I’ve never seen myself as a red person, I’m usually more of baby pink, purple, white and dark colors. But I have to admit the red dress looks amazing.

I then proceeded to have an interview where I told them a bit about myself and then my makeover.

By the time, I finish the interview, I am so tired that all I want to do is go back to my room and read or talk to my sisters.

Oh wait, I’m still mad at Mila.

Oops.

====

((THANKS @itssara-oc​ ANA FOR THE WONDERFUL RP ♡ i love the connection between our two girls:))

[linkspooky]

Medaka Box top 2-5 because number 1 is obvious

I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT  HOW MUCH I LOVE MY FAVES. IF YOU EVER ASK WANT TO ASK ME WHO MY FAVES ARE FOR A SERIES FEEL FREE TO SEND ME AN ASK.

1. My love was Real - Kumagawa Misogi

No, shush I’m going to talk about Kumagawa Misogi. The only time he gets a chance to be number one is in popularity polls and my faves lists.

 My favorite thing about Medaka Box out of all of Nisioisin’s works is that the weirdoes are not just weirdoes who are accepted as weirdoes, but they’re also challenged to grow more human. 

What I really like about Kumagawa is that he gets his ass kicked constantly. You come to understand just how he developed his broken method of coping and seeing the world, but it’s also something he ultimately has to let go of. The story never lets him win and challenges him to grow. Which is why you end up rooting for Kumagawa because it’s far more interesting seeing him fail sometimes than the main characters succeeding. 

Kumagawa’s just this insane person who seems to be doing whatever he wants, the embodiment of edgy loser characters, but at the same time he’s eventually revealed to be quite human. He’s grounded in basic human desires, he wants to be happy like everybody else, he wants to have security, to protect his friends. It’s that humanity in the character you get attached too. He’s a loser, not because he’s a monster, but because he has so many very human flaws. At the end of the day, for all his flashiness he kind of just acts like a regular good for nothing. 

Underneath it all I see Kumagawa as a character whose broken in kind of an ordinary way. Nisioisin writes a lot about broken geniuses, people who are insane but also talented to some degree. Kumagawa is just like, an average ordinary guy underneath it all that’s been subjected to a shit ton of trauma and noen fo that trauma really made him better as a person and he doesn’t have some kind of special talent to balance it out. Normal people, ugly people, worthless people can be broken too, there’s no such thing as suffering beautifully. And yet, Kumagawa’s still trying to be a person, he’s trying to struggle and do better even though he’s not someone who would ever be the main character of the story. Which is why I think he’s grounded in something really relatable. 

2. I don’t care what fictional characters call me - Ajimu Najimi

Ajimu’s great because she’s literally the most talented, all knowing character in the manga, but in the end she’s just as shitty as Kumagawa. Often I end up liking these two as a pair because they’re just so integral to each other’s character arcs. 

Ajimu is a shitty person. You get all these reasons like she’s actually seven million terminals, or that she’s trillions of years old, but beyond that she clearly has a personality, and that personality is bad. She just doesn’t really care about anybody besides herself. She drags along other people with her whims. 

She’s a mastermind but at the same time she’s kind of just a petty child. For all of her grandiose reasons for manipulating people along, it’s more that Ajimu doesn’t really want to live as a person. There are characters that Nisioisin made up that are like, actually not meant to be human but some incomprehensible entity. Like, the story goes out of its way to say that Yodzuru isn’t human. In Monogatari, oddities and aberrations are not meant to be human, they’re meant to be inhuman and different. But Ajimu always struck me as a character written to be human underneath it all. Her constant announcing of “I’m a non-human” is just kind of her running away that psychologically, she’s still pretty much a human despite her weird origin story. 

Which is why my favorite part about her is how little she actually knows about being a human. She understands people like they’re toys to move around in her toybox, or roles in a script but you get the sense she doesn’t get them as like, thinking, feeling entities separate from herself. She doesn’t really understand love, or friendship or anything like that, and she doesn’t want to bother to learn anyway because she already knows everything. Ajimu literally has the script handed to her, and yet like Medaka says, she doesn’t know anything. She has to start all the way from the beginning. 

3. So let’s get married! Marry me, Marry me, Marry me! - Emukae Mukae

I used to hate Yanderes until I met Emukae. One of the differences I noticed is that Emukae is definitely not written to be anybody’s fantasy. She’s her own character all throughout. Which is what i disliked about most yanderes to begin wtih, they were always obsessed with some dude, but like never as a flaw or a character arc it was supposed to be appealing and not ugly. 

Emukae is very ugly when she’s introduced, and we get to see her just like Kumagawa work her way back into being a human being again. The reason she has to let go of her romantic feelings is because she was using them to entirely define who she was, which is why her personality appears so shallow at first. 

By the end of the manga Emukae is probably the character besides Kumagawa who has changed and developed the most, and another thing is that she does this without really abandoning parts of her presonality. Emukae is still a minus towards the end, she’s still manic at times, she just doesn’t use love as a substitute for everything anymore because she’s learned to grow an identity outside of that. She’s kind of growing into her own person over the course of the manga instead of attaching herself to either Kumagawa or Zenkichi to define who she was. 

4. I’ll become the main character - Zenkichi Hitoyoshi

Zenkichi is a send up to classic shonen protags and a subversion of them at the same time. He’s the guy who never gives up, who always makes friends, and who tries to earn everything with training, effort, and hard work. I admit a lot I like about Zenkichi is his foiling with Kumagawa (Kumagawa existing as his shadow, Zenkichi’s hard work is always rewarded, and Kumagawa’s is never rewarded). 

However, there is something unique about the character himself. That is, getting stronger never actually gets Zenkichi what he wants. Despite being the main male lead, he almost never technically wins any fights. He wins against Munakata at the beginning but that’s about it. He’s actually usually the weakest character in the group and surrounded by super strong women.

What’s interesting about Zenkichi as a protag is that his arc isn’t about gaining strength, but actually letting go of the idea of gaining strength. He wins against Medaka in the end not by beating her in a fight, but because he’s better at making connections with other people than she is. He finds his place eventually in learning to make connections with others rather than building his entire life around protecting Medaka. 

5. I’ll kill you - Munakata Kei

Munakata is fun, because he’s an interesting character concept. Every time he looks at a person he wants to kill them. Unlike Hitoshiki Zerozaki, rather than choosing to give into this urge he’s actually spent his whole life fighting against it. Which is what makes him unique, he’s basically every other serial killer that Nisioisin has ever written (a serial killer, but they’re lonely) but this time he hasn’t actually killed anybody.

Which under the surface makes him feel like much more of a normal dude. He’s actually a very human person who just happened to be born with a weird obsession with killing people. I guess one thing that makes me like this character so much is I’ve seen similiar attempts to make this character work with the same concept, but they all come off as unrelatable and weird. 

Munakata is a fully fleshed out character. He wants to have friends, wants to fight for those friends. He sometimes get self righteous. He’s serious and straight laced. He’s overprotective of those friends. He just also happens to be constantly seeking out a reason to kill someone. Munakata is even mentioned to have a bad attitude on purpose. His showdown with Kumagawa is also one of my favorite scenes in the manga, with the two of them fighting with their contrasting philosophies. 

It feels like the fact that he wants to murder every single person he meets is just an asterisk on his character, instead of having his entire character built around that fact. Which is fun. He’s actively resisting becoming the murderer who kills people for no reason because they’re obsessed with killing people trope, and it gives him a satisfactory arc over the story. Also, once again how normal he is is just fun, the second he did finally kill someone his first response was to just walk to the police station. What a dude. 

[aghoulfromtokyo]

Hand To Hold

Authors Note: This is a Y/N imagine with namjoon as your best friend. If this helps even one person to feel a little better today I’ll be happy. Hope you enjoy.

   It was a little past midnight when knocking sounded from my apartment door. You tucked your blanket tighter around yourself trying to ignore it. Not wanting to face anyone at the moment. Not even Namjoon, your best friend of the last four years. You had both met first year of college, both of you majoring in psychology. At first it was a blessing having a friend majoring in the same degree as you, but the closer you got the easier it became to read when something was wrong with the other.

Which is why he was knocking now.  He could always tell when you where suffering. When your depression and anxiety becomes worse than normal you tend to become quiet. Not that you weren’t already but you would stop texting people back and hanging out with friends. choosing instead to spend the days you had of school and work by yourself wrapped up in your blanket and laying in bed. You hoped he would leave and just let you be by yourself but knowing him knowing Namjoon he wasn’t going anywhere. He confirms your thinking when he texts you again.

Joonie: Cmon open the door Y/N

Y/N: No i just want to be alone right now

Joonie: We both know I’m not going to do that

Y/N: Ughhhhhhh hold on

You pull yourself out of bed heading to your door, while trying not to feel more anxious at how messy your hair is. Truthfully you had started to feel more for Namjoon than just friendship. He was always here for you and even just his presence had a way of calming your anxiety. Though lately he made your heart skip a beat when he smiled at you and your cheeks heat up. You open the door just as his hand raises to knock again. His warm brown eyes find your E/C right away. And again your heart flutters against your will.

 “What’s wrong” He asks softly getting right to it.

 “I just haven’t had the time to talk lately” You say and he gives you his usual yeah right face pushing his way inside. His warms hand wraps softly around your wrist as he pulls you down onto the couch.

 “Y/N come on you know we’re both in psychology right? That shit isn’t going to work on me. We have been best friends for four years now give me a little more credit here” He sighs as you pout in your dark living room.

 You hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights when you answered the door,only leaving on your bedroom light. It made a trail down the hall and into the living room, casting the smallest shadow of light on your faces. You felt awful as you glanced at Namjoon. It was obvious he hadn’t been able to sleep well by the slight bags growing under his eyes and that he’d been running his hands through his hair due to stress. Namjoon truly ws the best friend anyone could ask for. Always putting his own needs aside to help other people. And here you were making him worry.

 “It’s my anxiety joonie. It makes me feel so awful sometimes. I just want to feel like eveyone else. I just don’t want feel this way anymore” You says as tears gather in your eyes. Just thinking of your anxiety brought the tight feeling o your chest. Even after so many years of feeling them they never got easier. It was a curse that would follow you forever. One that made you feel like the world could just swallow you up whole and no one would notice.

You felt namjoons thumb as it swept under your eyes catching your tears as they fell. He wraps his arms around you pulling you into his warm embrace and you erupt, all of your stress and anxiety rushing out of you and falling to the floor along with your tears. He shushes you lightly as he rocks you back and forth and you nuzzle into his warm chest letting your tears soak through his sweatshirt. You stay like that for awhile, until you finally calm down. A weight lifted from your shoulders. When he’s sure that you have fully calmed down he pulls you away from him so he can meet yours eyes.

 “I know it’s awful and sometimes you feel alone but your not. You have people who care, people that love you. You are never alone and I know how hard your anxiety is to deal with but you will get through it. Things get hard but they get better too okay” He whispers smiley at you so warmly it melts some of the pain away.

 “You know I’m here for you too right. You aren’t alone either” You whisper your voice slightly shaky. He smiles at you somehow even wider if possible, reaching over to move some of your long H/C behind your ear.

 “I know” he whispers and you hug him again thankful to have a a best friend like him in your life that was always here for you.

He grabs your hand again guiding you back to your room and tucking you in. He always baby’s you when your having a rough time. Though honestly you’d come to notice the way he’s been treating more like this all the time the last few months. As he turns to crash on your couch to tired to walk home you grasp his hand again. He looks from your hand to you confused.

 “Will you lay with me tonight” You ask a blush growing on your face. He had stayed over countless times but always on the couch. This was a new step, one that you hoped would one day soon lead to a route that was more than friends.

 “What’s with you tonight” He chuckles nervously but walks around to the other side of the bed pulling the covers over himself and sliding close to you. You smile happily at the blush that forms on his cheeks as he wraps his arms around you placing his cheek on the side of your head after turning off your lamp light.

 “Goodnight Y/N”

 “goodnight Namjoon”

You close your eyes as you slowly drift off to sleep, promising yourself to confess to him soon.  

[serahsanguine]

School, Sex and Subterfuge NC-17

ao3

This story is based in 2018/2019.

Mulder is a teacher, Scully is a student. This story is an NC-17 rating. There is no underage sex in my story I researched this before even writing it.

Mulder is known to give extra credit of a sexual kind to Someone special in his class does this person turn out to be Scully? I will let you read and find out.

*******************************************

Notes:

The first Chapter is kind of Scully Pov but most of the chapters thereafter will be both pov and or third person. Also, the characters I am portraying may seem out of charter well one of them at least but as the story goes on this will sort itself out it had to be done this way for the story to work.

*************************************************

First Day, First Meeting

Scully was now in her second year at Stanford University getting her bachelor's degree in Medicine.

She was a sophomore, thank God, because she had hated being a freshman. At least now she was kind of settled. She knew where she had to be on campus and knew the best places to get away from everyone, when she needed time alone. She has mostly the same classes that she had last year, just more advanced versions of those classes. She wasn't much for parties or social gatherings, as she preferred to study and get straight A’s instead of headaches and awkward conversation with strangers. Anything less would not please Ahab, especially with Missy roaming the world. She knew her roommate Serah and a couple of her close friends well and even knew most of the people in her classes. Serah was in most of the same subjects she was, bar a few, like art and music for example.

Scully woke up in her room, the sun was just starting to peek through the musty brown curtains. She groaned to herself and forced herself to roll over, looking over at her clock which sat on her bedside table, moaning again when she read the time - 5 am.

She hated when her body did this to her when it didn't want to sleep or she couldn't get to sleep. She swung her legs off the bed, it wasn't like she was going to go back to sleep anyway and put on some comfortable yoga pants, with a tank top and some bright red Nike Air running trainers. She could probably fit in an hour or two at the gym before the rest of the campus even wakes up. Plus the benefits of being at the gym this early is that no one would be there; meaning no guys wolf whistling or giving her dirty remarks under their breath while exercising.

She exited her room quietly shutting and locking the door behind her trying not to wake Serah, as she definitely was not a morning person. Scully made quick work of getting to the main entrance and across the quad to the west wing of the campus which held the gym and entered the building saying a quick "Hello" to Jim the security guard, before heading straight for the treadmill machine area. She placed her eco-friendly water bottle in the holder, and then put her wireless headphones on before scanning her iPhone and hitting play on Fleetwood Mac and stepped onto the treadmill starting at a light jog then a full sprint. She was so focused on running and what she was listening to that she didn't notice a man enter the room and start running, three treadmills down from her, himself.

An hour passed and Scully had run the sleep deprivation out of her system, and her legs were starting to burn so she slowed her pace and started her cool down. That's when she looked over to see a man in his late 20’s, maybe early 30’s, running hard with sweat dripping off of his face. Scully covertly checked him out - he was about 6ft 1 with chestnut brown hair and tanned skin.

She had never seen this man before but as she studied his physique, she could tell he was athletic, he had brilliant legs and calf muscles. She worked her way up staring at his butt which was nicely shaped and stood out in the very short black workout shorts that he was wearing, continuing up further to his arms she watched his toned biceps and triceps flex and tense as he was really giving this run his all.

The man suddenly turned towards her, looking directly at her and she realised she had clearly been caught checking him out. She started blushing and then he smiled at her and she wanted to look away but she couldn't help but stare back at the man looking appreciatively at her. His eyes are what drew her in, they weren't green but neither were they brown, in fact, they were a lovely shade of hazel; so bright and deep at the same time, they were mesmerizing. She watched sweat drip from his hairline and run down his cheekbones and nose which she did admit was too big for his face but it suited him all the same and didn't diminish how cute he was.

Scully worked her way down his face to look at his gorgeous pouty lips so pink and full - Wow! What she would give to have that bottom lip in-between her teeth sucking and nibbling it. Wow, where did that come from? She smiled back at him and he took off his drenched mesh and cotton tank top, her eyes drifted down of the own accord she could not help but notice the muscles of his chest and the very well defined six-pack on his stomach.

Looking at this beautiful man sent her into a full body flush - her heart racing, her breath was ragged and uneven, a pool of desire building in her stomach. Why was she thinking like this? She had to stop thinking like this immediately but damn she just wanted to shove him up against a wall and have him fuck her senseless!

She had to escape quickly, hopping off the treadmill she walked fast towards the ladies locker room but he was still staring at her as she opened the door and only then did he turn away. She could not help but glance at this man once more before heading for a very cold shower (which desperately needed now), trying not to think of the man she had just encountered and spent no actual time talking to.

After Scully had showered and changed into some light grey jeans and a flowy peach coloured tank top blouse with spaghetti straps, she grabbed herself a coffee and grabbed Serah one while she was at the on-campus coffee shop before walking back to her dorm room.

She arrived at her room and unlocked the door; Serah was already awake and dressed in black stretchy jeans, a black tank top and cropped burgundy hoodie, her long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail and away from her face, making her blue eyes stand out more than they already did.

"Hey Dana’ Serah said cheerfully.

"Wow, look who's up early!" Scully replied sarcastically, with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"Oh, shush you. Is that coffee for me?"

"Well, I don't see anyone else here to give it to, so you might as well have it," Scully said, handing Serah the coffee cup.

"Well, it looks like someone is in a sassy mood on the first day back. Anyone, I know?"

Scully was still surprised at how easily Serah could read her sometimes.

"No. Just some guy I saw at the gym this morning... I didn't even speak to him."

"You may not have spoken to him, Dana, but he has you all hot under the collar I can tell," Serah smirked, then took a sip of her coffee.

Scully could feel a slight redness in her cheeks and a small smile creep across her face.

"Maybe... but you know me and you know that I have no time for men."

"Well, my dear friend. All work and no play makes life very dull indeed. And sometimes you need to play hard and be free... and let go every now and then."

"Maybe I will, sometime"

"Yes but the sometime may never come, Dana"

"What classes do you have today anyway?"

"Mostly same as you Biology and Chemistry but when you have your free period I have Art class then lunch we can meet back up at say two for psychology?"

"Sure, that sounds about right."

"Oh, have you heard the rumours about our lecturer?"

"You know I don't listen to rumour and speculation."

"Well, I know THAT! But they are pretty good and sound rather juicy so do you want to know or not?" Scully nodded, and so without hesitation Serah carried on with her story "Well as I hear it our teacher Mr F. W. Mulder takes one girl under his wing a year and gives her ‘extra credit’" Serah raised her eyebrows as if willing Scully to get the hint but Scully just looked at her friend standing across from her and gave her a sceptical eyebrow. "Anyway, it so happens he purposely fails them so he can take them back to his office and have his way with them. And nobody minds because apparently from what I have heard from the older girls, he is very good looking and fantastic in bed"

"As I said I don't believe in rumour or speculation, and if what you say is true surely he would have been found out and got fired by now."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But apparently he is from a wealthy family that donates a lot of money to the school... so they look the other way."

"Hmm… we really should get going or we’re going to miss out the first lecture."

"Changing the subject are we?"

"Why yes, I am." They both started laughing.

They casually wandered to their first class sipping their coffees on the way.

Several hours and a number of boring "Welcome back" lectures later. Scully was sitting in her favourite little, off-campus, cafe eating a small Caesar salad with a strawberry and banana smoothie just enjoying the scenery. The weather was warm for Autumn, a good 78 F but there was a light breeze flowing through the trees and flowers offsetting the unusual heat.

What Scully liked most about sitting here was being alone and the peace and serenity of it all - that was until the guy she saw earlier at the gym started walking in her direction. She watched him walk across the small cafe, his hair caught the sun coming through the large windows and his eyes glimmered in the sunlight, he was wearing dark blue jeans that rode low on his hips and a white shirt rolled up on his arms.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" He looked at her directly in the eyes now, and she could feel him burrowing his way into her soul, gesturing towards the empty seat next to her.

"No, it is not." Scully smiled sheepishly at him and watched him sit down across from her.

"It’s nice here. Very open... and yet rustic"

"Yes, it is" Scully felt herself going shy, and was unable to form long sentences.

"I'm sorry to be so forward. I'm not normally like this," he took a short pause before completing his train of thought "You just looked lonely. My name is William, by the way."

"Hello William, I'm Dana" she took his hand and shook it, she felt unable to breathe because of this man sitting in front of her.

"I was wondering if you attended the University?" Scully simply nodded, William took the chance to express what he really wanted to say "Look, I really came over to say that you are a very beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Scully was covered in crimson blush now and she didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart beating hard in her chest, could hear the blood pumping and thrumming in her ears.

"I really must be going, sorry to interrupt your day. It's been nice to meet you, Dana."

"It was nice meeting you, too," Scully answered managing to stumble out the words.

She watched him walk away (eyes distracted by his firm butt). No man had made her lost for words before, no man had really taken an interest in her or at least been so forward about it. She was shocked, to say the least, but very flattered by his attention.

She finished her salad (and smoothie) and made her way back to campus to meet Serah by the water fountain.

"Dana!"

"Hey Serah, are you ready to head to class?"

"Yeah"

Serah picked up her bag and bottled water, said bye to her group of friends and walked alongside Scully. It took about ten minutes to walk to the lecture hall, when they arrived it was already half full. Scully thought two things at that moment It is either a popular subject or he was a very popular man! Serah looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking and grinned.

"It could possibly be both, there a couple of seats over there"

They shuffled through the row of seats to find their spot.

"So, what did you get up to at lunch? You came back a bit flushed."

"I'm fine! Nothing happened." Scully stated, staring off into space and trying not to look at her friend.

"Yeah, right. I heard some more details that should interest you... details about what kind of women he picks for his little game"

"Is that so?"

"Apparently he goes for long haired brunettes and quite tall... or so I have heard."

"Oh, well thank you for the reassurance. Since I'm nothing like that he wouldn't even look at me twice." Scully mumbled while getting her notebook out of her bag.

"Anytime!"

Suddenly the whole lecture hall went quite as Professor F. W. Mulder himself stepped onto the stage at the front of the room. Scully looked up and recognized the man that was about to teach their class, it was William in his blue jeans and white shirt. Their eyes locked onto each other... Shit, she thought.

This was going to be one very long academic year.

[clubdolan]

Hey i saw your baby Noah imagine and I was wondering if you could do one where the baby kicks and Noah is so cute and excited, please add LOADSSSS of fluff I will die:) thank uuuu

You will die? I will actually be the one dying here, okay. —– daddy!noah

24 WEEKS was typed across the screen as a boomerang of you rubbing your stomach continued to play. You laughed every time because of how awkward it looked but Noah insisted on updating his Instagram story/highlight weekly.

Ever since the day you announced your pregnancy it seemed like he used every excuse to get to talk about it. His ‘daily baby’ app, showing off pictures of your stomach, the sonogram, mentioning names he liked, reading book after book on how-to-prepare and of course, taking way too many pictures and videos of you.

He spoke of how jealous he was that you were close to the baby and how you felt it’s every move. His tangents were on how amazing the body is that it can grow a human inside of it. He spoke to the baby like he was teaching a college class on literature or history or sometimes even psychology; mainly the topic of whatever book he was reading.

You never seemed to mind, dozing off to sleep as he mumbled and traced invisible lines across your shirt. You woke to his hand circling your stomach while he was intrigued by something on the television. He would lift up your shirt and feel around, hoping for a kick or movement of any kind but he had yet to feel anything.

“I swear it moves, I promise.” You’d tell him constantly. Usually at night the baby tossed and turn, nothing to feel or see except if it was in your stomach.

His sister would giggle at him trying to coax the baby to kick as he laid his head on your lap, “kick me in the head, this is the only opportunity you’ll get that I won’t be mad”. He’d wait and wait and wait, hoping to feel something.

Sonograms showed the baby kicking, it seemed to be waving at the latest one as if it knew it was on some sort of video. That’s when you found out it was a girl.

You could almost see Noah melt right in the doctor’s office. He had never specified wanting one over the other but you had always imagined Noah with girls, multiple girls, never a boy in sight.

“I feel like I could vomit her up at this point.” You complained for probably the hundredth time that night. She was feisty, she was rolling, she wouldn’t let you sleep for the past two nights and was worse at the moment. 

“Just let me know what to do. We tried peppermint oil, you drank the weird tea, we played soft music, you laid on every side you can, we tried a heat pack but you got too hot, you tried the recliner, you tried the floor, you tried laying on me… what about other drinks? Is there another drink you could try? We could Postmates it…” He typed away on his phone, probably googling some herb remedy from a culture you had never heard of. “Keep talking…” You  whispered, holding still. 

“Me?”“Yeah she… calmed a little…”

He shut his phone off and sat up in bed, leaning forward a little towards your stomach. “Hi baby girl.” He started, “Your mommy is very, very sleepy which in turn makes me very sleepy and we would like to get some sleep.”

He rested on his side and sat his head on your leg, “I know you’re ready to come out but you’ve got a little more cookin’ to do before you can.” His hand sat on top of the blanket on your stomach, “But for the first time ever, I’m putting you in a time out.”

“I don’t think you can do that.” You’d giggle.

“Timeout for at least ten hours so your mommy can sleep.” He shushed you as you began to talk, “Ten consecutive hours…. is this working?” 

*kick*

You both froze, eyes locking on each other. “Was that–

*kick*kick*

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, keeping his hand spread out on your stomach. “That’s her.. she.. oh god.”

Holding back tears you watched his face light up as he looked down at your stomach. “She kicked me when I told her she was in timeout.”

“You felt your baby girl, daddy.” You placed your hand on top of his. “She’s revolting against you already.”

“That was fucking crazy.” He mumbled, “She kicked right here, right on my hand and I felt it.”

“Oh my god, No, come here.” You pulled his hand towards you and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He grinned, “I love you too, little girl.” He said to your stomach, placing his hand back on top hoping to feel something else.

Thirty minutes later he had given up, but everyone on Instagram and within a three block radius of your house had heard him scream about it.

“IT’S TWO FOURTEEN IN THE MORNING AND I JUST FELT MY BABY GIRL KICK MY HAND!!” His voice cracked as he yelled, “MY BABY GIIIIIIRL” He posted it with multiple happy emojis before cuddling in as close to you as he could get.

“I love you and could never thank you enough for all the shit you’re going through to bring our little babe in the world.” He mumbled into your neck and squeezed around you the best he could. 

“Thank you for helping me… giving me… assisting in… bringing a baby into the world?” You laughed, “And I also love you but it’s one hundred degrees in here so I’m gunna need you to back off while I sleep right now.”