#the urge to write this out came after rewatching the good place and seeing the finale again

[star-kovs]

I’m sad because I’m starting a new semester of school. It’s most likely going to be my last. I feel like it’s holding me back. I’m ready to move on. I want to move away, to another city and start the rest of my life. There’s nothing for me here. I’m not looking forward to any part of where I see this city going nor fond of how it is currently. I have no close family members to miss here or any friends to leave behind. I never forged the connection with the people here to make any.

I’m ready to start the next chapter of my life but mourn all the experiences I should have and deserved to have. I never had the people or was in the place to have them. I feel like I have also missed personal milestones because I haven’t had them, like my first kiss or my first mature relationship (first relationship while I was older and not in kindergarten or so).

I just feel stuck and lonely. I deserve to feel loved by someone other than my family. I want romantic and platonic friendship love. I deserve it. I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong to not have it but I also know it’s not all on me. It’s nobody’s fault but relationships are also a two-person job. And I haven’t had much luck in the 13 years since we moved back here.

I’m working on loving and caring for myself more. After not receiving the outside love I desperately longed for, I think part of me decided that it was okay to not keep up with caring for myself. I let myself go, which also came with the depression. I’ve been overweight most of the time, for the majority if not all of the last 10 years or so. I don’t make any effort to get enough sleep, and I’m naturally a night owl, which doesn’t help. I like feeling clean but I have a hard time making myself take a shower. I struggle making myself do things I do not want to do, and do not make any effort to do things for the simple reason that they are good for me or would be good to do. I procrastinate a lot as a result. I’m late to a lot of places and struggle to make myself leave the house sometimes even though I need to be some place or I would enjoy going there (this problem really started during the pandemic, during lockdown, but I still struggle with it from time to time). I don’t hate myself. But I also don’t show any love or care to myself. And I deserve better on this end too.

I’m just so tired of the way things are. I’m ready for a change, a change that can’t come yet. But I’m ready for it, and I know I deserve better than what I’ve had. All I can do is work to make what I can control better and hope the major change can come sooner rather than later.

[healerelowen]

Healing Elm’s 1 year anniversary!

  Hello Hello my dearest readers! With my blog’s first year anniversary now here, I want to have a bit of a deep discussion about my journey through the year that I’ve been on the Inscryption side of Tumblr. This is going to be a bit of a wild ride, so just hold onto your hats. 

Tw for a bit of talking about sewer slide and self ouchie

So, February in 2022 for me was rough. The months before it were just awful for me and my mental health was down in the dumps. I was not in a very good state of mind. I was very isolated and I had a tendency to neglect my needs and avoid people as much as humanly possible. I was also prone to self harm at the time and I was also struggling with a lot of suicidal thoughts and temptations. And one day, I was thinking about Game Theory’s video on Inscryption that I had listened to a couple months ago because it made good background noise. But this time I wanted to actually listen to it and perceive what it was saying. 

That’s when I remembered Jacksepticeye’s video about it and I rewatched it, and I loved it! I loved everything about it, the story, the characters, the setting, it all was very fascinating to me. So sometime later after playing it, I was neck deep in hyper fixating on it. I wasn’t new to Tumblr at the time, I had been on it for quite some time now, but I never thought about making content myself. That was until I decided to search up Inscryption on Tumblr out of pure curiosity, and oh boy I was not disappointed.

I saw so many amazing things there. Art, writings, fanfiction, silly little rants or shit posts, and I would scroll around on it for hours upon hours. I’m talking from 10pm to 2am. I loved seeing what people had to say, or what to share about this amazing game. I stumbled across a little imagine post that someone made, and I responded to it albeit a bit flustered. I was then thinking about it for a couple days after that, when I thought of an alternate meaning for that post they had made. So I made a post about it, and they replied positively to it! 

This urged me to write my own headcanons and oneshots. The longer I stayed in the fandom, the more and more fanfictions came during the months. This is proven with my archive, with February only containing like three while March has much more, and then April with even more than the last and so on. It wasn’t long until I started making this into more of a passion rather than a small hobby of mine. Which, fun fact, was my original intention because I didn’t think I’d write that much. But here I am 700 posts later in the span of a year.  

I started doing my own ask games, and answering requests given to me. All the while making other things like my own little ideas and oneshots with some art sprinkled here and there. I did this because I found comfort in it. Because for the first time in months, I had found a place where I felt welcome. There was little to no judgment, people were very welcoming and accepting of new ideas and Aus, and it felt more like a home than a small website. I had helped create a welcoming force in the community, which I hadn’t entirely intended to do, but I don’t regret doing so. I made new friends, and I had become a role-model for others in the fandom.

I love this community more than anything, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I have made so many good memories during my time here. My mental health improved greatly, I was eating more consistently and I kept myself more clean and organized. In fact, my self harm rate went from every couple days to once in the span of four months. I personally think this is a massive improvement on my end. But I most certainly couldn’t have done it without this community. You’ve all been so supportive and as cliche’ as it may sound, I truly couldn’t have done it without all of you amazing people. So for that, I must thank you, for being the caring people that you all are towards not just to me, but to everyone else who also enjoys what I do. 

While yes, it’s true that things will never be the same when I first came here, that’s fine by me. So long as this community keeps flowing like it has, I’ll be just fine. I’ve seen many creators here come and go, some were close friends while others were not. I still loved their content all the same, and I will never forget the inspiration they gave me to start writing my own ideas and sharing them with others. It honestly doesn’t feel like only a year has gone by, it really feels like five years just flew right past me. It feels like I’ve been here for so long, and I’ve seen so much happen in this fandom.            

I’m very happy here, I love writing and drawing and messing around with mutuals on here. It’s all been a great experience and I hope that there will be more going forward. For a single year, I had just about the best damn moments of my life and all of it was because of random people on the internet who liked the same game as me, people that I’ve grown to love and care for. What’s funny is that when I first came here I was actually considered to be ‘baby’ and just starting out (mostly because of my height of 4 '10 but we don’t talk about that-) to now being seen as a more older figure in the community. How time flies. 

Thank you all, and have a good rest of your day/night! 

[intergalactic-padawan]

can you do a cute/funny story where ezra rescues y/n from the empire & y/n acts like silly hera from jedi night when ezra bringing her to safety & y/n later wakes up and doesn’t remember? literally both of them would be so cute!😂

Never rescue me again

Requested: yes!

Warnings: being tortured and electrocuted, truth serum and feeling sick afterwards

A/N: Behold! my amazing title giving abilities. Also, this was really fun to write but sad to remember. You're lucky I rewatched Jedi Knight for this and do not need more sadness in my life, so it doesn't end in angst.

I also skipped over the part where she doesn't remember afterwards? Hope it's alright, I alredy had it all planed by the time I noticed, sorry.

Pronouns of reader: gn! reader

.

x

.

Breathing sharply after being electrocuted for the force-knows what-time in the last hour, you finally start to open your eyes.

Unfortunately, the imperial prision cell you were being questioned in hadn't changed or been invaded by someone coming to rescue you.

-"And let that be a lesson, rebel scum" - the imperial officer in charge of you finally announces, stinging your neck with an unknown drug to make you spill your secrets - "if you refuse to colaborate, it will get much worse."

-"You- you don't scare me" - you say through gritted teeth, feeling the numbness in your lembs start to make you more tired.

-"Oh, I don't need to scare you. Only get the information" - she types something on her wrist panel, and you feel the pulsing electricity with every word - "now tell me, where. are. the. others."

All you can do is scream. Scream, and hope you're strong enough to resist it until there's a way to escape.

-"I see you've decided to go the hard way. Very well. Trooper, take the interrogation probe to the transport. Perhaps Agent Kallus can be more convincing in getting the information out of you"

She calmly points at your heaving figure to the two stormtroopers standing guard at the door. Her discusting fingers firmly hold your chin as she inspects your face closer, making sure you were still listening.

Taking the opportunity, you muster your remaining strenght to spit at her direction, right before the troopers drag you away through the bright labrinth of corridors.

You keep your eyes closed the entirety of the way, fighting a headache and the urge to give up consciousness. It is only when you're inside the new cell and the troopers are leaving to stand guard outside that you notice the two bodies on the floor, having been stunned by someone else in a scout trooper uniform.

Great. Now you were becoming delusional that someone would actually come to save you.

-"aren't you... a little short for a stormtrooper?" - it's the first thing you notice, but you weren't supposed to say that. Karabast, the truth serum must be getting stronger inside you.

Blinking a few times just to make sure this was real, you see him fumble with his helmet to reveal Ezra's face. Still, it takes a few moments for the information that 'Ezra = good' to sink in.

-"what are... why are you here?" - you finally ask.

-"You got captured, so we came here to rescue you."

-"You? Rescuing me? I- That's a first"

-"Excuse me?" - he smiles as your shackles are cut out with the help of his lightsaber

-"Ever since we met, Ezra, its always ME who does the rescuing"

-"Well, then I guess there really is a first time for everything" - he mumbles, amused.

-"Oh, but not today, sir! You're not rescuing me. You're simply... helping me escape " - you expect him to engage in your playful banter, but instead, worry fills his expression at the sight of your tired eyes.

-"This is not good, we're too late. What did they give you?"

-"Truth serum. Wanted to know where the rest of the 'rebel scum' was" - you snort - "guess the answer is 'closer than expected', ha!"

-"I'm serious, they- wait!" - he catches you as you sumble out of the cell, already on the comm with Spectre 3 - "c'mon lemme help. You can't even walk straight"

-"THAT is debatable!" - you snap back, not able to walk straight - "Excuse me for just one second. - your voice starts to come out more and more tired, reflecting your mental state as you grip the wall tightly and try not to feel so nauseated.

-"C'mon, change of plans" - he announces, dragging you back to the cell before someone comes through the corridor - "we're getting out of here some other way, you can't go through the whole building like that."

-"what? no! Let's go with the origial plan, I'll be fine!"

-"babe, we came here to rescue you, I'm not putting you in any more danger" - he activates his lightsaber, suggesting that you get back, and starts cutting a perfect circle through the wall.

From behind him, you see Ezra has found the perfect place to open a 'doorway': it's nothing more than the only wall keeping you from outside of the imperial facility.

The bad news?

It's going to be a pretty big fall until you reach solid ground again.

-"this is your plan b?" - you ask as chopper pulls over with the phantom mid-air and the familiar sound of blaster fire coming hot on his trail.

-"yeah. Plan 'be ready to jump'."

-"what was that you said about putting me in more danger, again?"

-"it's either that or the troopers right behind."

-"alright" - you sigh, wrapping your arms on his neck as he prepares to help you board your way out

- "But I'm never letting you rescue me again, Ezra"

[boognish-worshipper]

ok so like i had this idea for a while n it took me MONTHS to finish bc i was nvr content w/ my writing n whatnot yadda yadda yadda anyway,, this is basically a what if thing about the triads shooting trevor in ludendorff n michael realizing how dumb he is

(my apologies that it’s so fuckin looooooong but I didn’t wanna leave it on a short note that felt incomplete. hope y’all like it !!!!! sorry for any grammatical errors or if the formatting’s funky)

//

Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Was he stupid? No, no. He was just blind. Blind for the past 10 years. Who knows. Maybe even longer than that. Fucking Michael. It always came back to that venomous shithead, constantly ruining everything for him. Did he just... forget? Was he so focused on that bloodsucker when he was “dying” in front of him he completely forgot Brad got shot first? That Brad died first? He didn’t even really think about him when shit went down. Or care much about Brad in general for that matter. The guy was a dick who just worked with other dicks back in the day, eventually joining their motley crew. A fading memory more than anything. His primary focus had always been Michael, who he thought was his right hand man. Trevor always knew that there was something different about him. As frustrating as Michael could be, it still didn’t change how he felt deep down. Michael wasn’t like the others. Or at least, that’s what he had thought. The night he found out that Michael’s lie ran deeper than he led on was one he wouldn’t forget.

He arrived at Michael’s house in a short amount of time. Hopping up the steps he made his presence known, standing in the entrance of the living room. He plopped down next to Michael, who scooted away from him slightly, still not ready for close contact from Trevor.

“Family ain’t back yet, huh?”

“Nope.”

“She’s a Goddamn fool, man.”

Trevor was never one to hide his jealousy towards Amanda. The two had been going at it for years, and it was always regarding Michael. Catty behavior between two people who had complicated relationships with the man, in their own unique ways. Amanda was scared of Trevor, but was never afraid of talking shit to his face. It was never any serious threats whenever they shot petty quips at one another anyway. She knew Trevor would never kill or harm her, all thanks to Michael, who spoke up again.

“Despite all the chaos of these last few weeks, I think I finally figured it out… I know, it sounds ridiculous-“

To Trevor, the thought wasn’t ridiculous. He knew Michael would never change. He would always be a killer, a man of action through and through. He was wasting away on a couch, rewatching classic Vinewood every night. To him, it only seemed right for Michael to keep taking scores.

“You’re back man!” He proclaimed, emphasizing his next line, “We are back!”

With excitement in his eyes, Trevor went on to boast about the little clique they had formed, and how they only needed to bust Brad out to fully reunite. Michael looked solemn, shaking his head slightly.

“That’s not it. I got money, it just makes you miserable-“ Now it was his turn to have excitement shine in his eyes.

“I wanna make movies.”

“Great. That’s great… and uh, so where exactly does this leave me in the second act of your life?”

He felt his stomach sink somewhat, regretting having asked that question. Michael would always tiptoe around it, avoiding the inevitable. But he couldn’t run from the past anymore. It would always catch up to him.

“This is not a game to me! Alright? This is a fuckin’ way of life.”

“I got a fuckin’ family!”

“Yeah, well, I got nothin’! No one gives a fuck about me!”

There was a pause. A hesitation. Amber eyes looked sorrowfully yet savagely into pale blue ones.

“I do.”

Something in Trevor snapped hearing those words. He couldn’t stand the audacity of Michael saying that to him. Because to him, Michael didn’t seem to give a fuck about what happened to Trevor. No matter how many times he lamented to him about everything he went through.

“Oh… Fuck you.”

Trevor rose from his seat, beginning to pace around the room, stabbing a finger in Michael’s direction. He did nothing but stare between his feet, not bothering to look up at Trevor.

“I saw your grave. I mourned you. And then it turns out that everything I fucking thought about you was wrong. Everything! You’re not dead, and you’re not a man.”

Michael shot up from his seat, cool demeanor abandoned in a fit of anger.

“Well, what the fuck are you?”

“I’m your fucking nightmare!”

“Yeah, enough with your Goddamn threats!”

Trevor did nothing but scoff at him, backing away like he was about to leave the room. Instead, some kind of alarm went off in his head, urging him to stay and ask the question he pushed far into the back of his mind. The inevitable was happening, and he couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. If Michael himself stood before him alive as ever, then who the fuck was in Michael Townley’s grave? Then suddenly, and ultimately, it clicked for him. Fucking Brad.

“You treacherous piece of shit! You’re fuckin’ dead! You’re fucking dead!”

As it clicked for Trevor, it clicked for Michael.

“Oh, fuck! Trevor! Hey, T!”

He peeled out of the driveway in Michael’s car. God, it smelled just like that fucking prick. It made him want to cry.

“Fuck!” He screamed out to no one in particular.

He slammed on the gas and wiped away any forming tears. His phone began to ring and he saw an all too familiar photo appear. Michael. What the fuck could he possibly say or want right now?

“Fuck you.” He spat out.

“Hey, come on. Where you going?”

“You know where I’m going, fuck you!”

The fucking nerve of him to ask that. What was wrong with him? The rest of the conversation wasn’t any better. It sounded like some stupid break up between two teens, as if Michael had cheated on him with some hooker instead of lying about the past decade or so.

“Trevor, come on!”

“Fuck you Michael! Soon enough, I will.”

He was on his way to the air field, and dialed up Ron as soon as he could. He needed to get out of here before Michael could stop him.

“Trevor? It’s great to uh..”

“Is there a plane I can use? Get me across country?”

“Sure! Sure. We got one fueled up for a trip south of the border.”

“I’m taking it.”

“Is everything okay, man?”

“Everything is not okay. Nothing has ever been okay but I’m going up there to see it for myself. I’m going to see an old friend alright? If you’re where I think you are buddy...”

Trevor gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles turned white. Tears stung his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it out.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I guess.. I guess I didn’t want to. Fuck!”

He clutched his phone tightly as he spoke, cracking the already shattered screen more. His voice was faltering, and it became harder to speak clearly.

“Maybe I knew all along. I’m gonna find out for sure and I’m gonna... do something about it! God there was always something wrong with that job, what went down after I guess I-“

The tears made their way down his face. His voice trembled and threatened to crack.

“I guess I wanted to believe- Fucking.. Fucking flea circus!”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Too many things began to resurface. Seeing red, he just cried out to Ron, still on the phone patiently listening to him rant.

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

“I’m sorry Trevor...”

He slammed on the gas as he approached the airfield. Running over to the plane, he hopped in and began his journey to Ludendorff. As he left, storm clouds poured in and darkened the sky. A thick rain accompanied by the thunder and lighting combo shook the small plane he was in. He braced himself for the rest of the trip there and kept going.

Ludendorff was just like he remembered. Cold, empty, and super fucking depressing. Why was the midwest like this all the time? Sure, living it up in Sandy Shores wasn’t the most ideal but for fucks sake, at least it was warm. He pulled up to the cemetery shortly after landing, and hurried off to find that God forsaken grave. After glancing at each passing gravestone, there it was. The late great Michael Townley’s place of burial.

“Who you got in here..?”

He scoffed, knowing his answer.

“As if I need to ask...”

It took forever to reach the coffin. The wood was brittle, which meant it would be easy enough to pry open and see who was actually in Michael’s place. He had been so caught up in his digging he didn’t notice a set of steps coming at him.

“You’re wasting your time.”

Trevor was wasting his time? No, he was making perfectly good use of it. Michael was wasting his if anything. Flying all the way out here for what? No, don’t say it... Was it finally gonna happen? Was Michael waiting for the opportunity to finally take a pop at him and leave his carcass for good? To toss him right into the grave with Brad? He didn’t want to believe so but hey, it’s Michael. Who knows what he’ll do. He couldn’t bear to listen to another word that came out of his mouth, and knew he needed to get the jump on him.

“You reptilian motherfucker!”

How did it end up here? Why was he pointing a gun at Michael? What the fuck was he doing? He didn’t want to kill him. He never did, even if he had a million justifiable reasons to.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this.”

There it was again. The fucking lying. That same exact fucking lying that got them here to begin with.

“Yes you did! You just don’t have the fucking balls to do it! But I do!”

But Trevor was also a hypocrite. He didn’t have it in him to ever go through with killing Michael. No matter what the son of a bitch did to him, he meant too much to Trevor for him to ever consider killing the man himself. He didn’t want to think about being the cause of him dying for good.

“I’ve got more to lose than you!”

“Never a truer word has been spoken, brother.”

He said that with as much malice as he could muster. Michael was the farthest fucking thing from being a brother. This was a man he had loved. Hell, still loved, despite it feeling more and more like a stranger before him with each encounter they had.

“Now.. pull the fucking trigger.”

The air was too still. It was choking him, making him feel frozen. Sure, weather played a part in the feeling but this... was different. His blood felt like ice. He couldn’t do it.

“You ain’t got the guts.”

Neither of them could do it. Even if he fired he knew he’d miss. Michael had the upper hand here.

“Take the fucking shot!”

Wait. Was Michael... crying? No. No way the great Michael fucking Townley was actually crying over this. That motherfucker. He’s such a fucking fraud. A coward. Always running. Running from Trevor, his past, his problems, his family and his fucking emotions.

His train of thought had been interrupted when he heard snow faintly crunching not too far from them.

“What was that?-“

A noise shot through the tense air that surrounded them. Woosh. Fuck. No. It couldn’t be- Ow. No. No fucking way. He looked down in awe and there it was, a distinct bullet hole, pierced through his torso. It nearly missed his heart, but was most certainly in a spot to do enough damage to him. He looked back up at Michael, mouth slightly agape leaking with the blood that began to pool in his mouth. Peaking behind him, he saw two figures lingering far behind. The fucking Triads. Of course, how could he forget? It’s not everyday you slam the head of a Chinese mobster’s son into a post. Fucking shit. If only he hadn’t messed with Tao…

He was fucked, and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he felt himself wanting to collapse on the ground. Michael looked at him in pure disbelief, eyes wide enough to pop from his head. Normally Trevor would giggle at the sight, but any noise from him would be a gurgle of blood in place of it.

“…Trevor?”

That was enough to knock him to the ground.

“Mr. Phillips! Mr. Cheng wants a word with you!”

Michael whipped his head back, and began dragging the two of them to cover. Was that supposed to be a fucking warning shot?? The one who shot Trevor spoke in Chinese to the other gunman, then spoke in English to the duo.

“Phillips! You and your boyfriend cannot hide from us!”

Michael grabbed his gun and started firing back, clipping the two in the front instantly.

“Trevor… what the fuck did you get into?! What are they on about? I… I’m not…”

Trevor couldn’t speak. He could only murmur at the man beside him.

“Trevor, seriously, you better answer me because I’m pretty fucking lost here-“

He angrily turned his head back to find Trevor on the verge of slipping out of consciousness, his face dropping at what was before him.

“Ah, Trevor! Shit!”

Before Michael could help him out, a van burst through the gate to the left, and more yelling ensued.

“Get out the van! Go find them!”

Michael panicked, pushing his gun into Trevor’s limp hands so he could grab the dead Triad henchman’s sturdier gun. He fired and clipped a few more men, trying his best to keep an eye on Trevor. His breathing was shallow, and he attempted to prop himself up so he could fire at them too.

“Trevor, what the fuck is going on? Who are these guys?”

“It’s the fucking,” He winced, pushing himself onto his knees so he could grab the side of the grave they hid behind. He spit out some blood that leaked from his mouth, staining the snow beneath them.

“The God damn Chinese, sugar tits.”

“Why are they-“

“Ask questions later, I’m fucking bleeding out here.”

Trevor forced himself to fully stand, his legs wobbling slightly. He fired a few more rounds, face contorted in pain. Another bullet flew by him, grazing his side.

“Fuck! Ow!” He growled.

“T, what in the hell are you doing?! Get down!”

“Fuck off you fucking leech! I can-“ He spit out more blood.

“I can handle this myself!”

He groaned, keeping his aim as still as he possibly could, which wasn’t very still at all. Stubborn as ever, Trevor went in guns blazing. He used not only the gun Michael had forced into his hands, but also the one he had brought with him. Several more shots fired at him until he felt a hand yank him back to the ground. He fell with a slight thump, and pain jolted through him again.

“You crazy bastard! We’re getting the fuck out of here, but that can’t exactly be accomplished if you’re dead!”

“Oh please! You already want me dead you fat fucking snake!” He wheezed out.

“Jesus Christ- Trevor. I already told you-“

“Shit, Mikey-”

Before either one could do anything about it, a Triad that had snuck up on them pistol whipped Michael in the back of the head. Trevor scrambled backwards and attempted to get on his feet, but to no avail. In a last minute effort, he lifted Michael’s gun and fired. For someone who was labeled a lousy shot by his partner, he felt that Michael would’ve been proud of his aim at that moment in time. A clean shot, right between the fucker’s eyes. He grinned slightly, adrenaline still coursing through him. He barked out a laugh, forgetting how much of a chore it was to allow any noise to escape him. It caused him to break into a coughing fit, spitting up more blood onto the snow. He looked from the small circle of blood that formed in front of him, back to Michael’s limp body. He shoved him slightly, trying to nudge him back into consciousness.

“Mikey. Michael. Get up. We gotta go like you said-“

He heard another van pull up. Then another. Fuck.

“You gotta be shitting me..”

Trevor, disregarding his wounds weakening him to the point his vision grew spotty, swapped his handgun for the gun Michael grabbed. He tried his best to prop the other man up against a grave, well out of the Triad’s line of sight. He pushed through any pain he felt, still riding his adrenaline high, wiping the rest of them out one by one. He rushed back over to Michael, who was stirring awake.

“Michael, for fucks sake get up already! Jesus I’m still fucking bleeding and I have to save your ass right now? Come on!”

He was finally able to stand, and Trevor slung Michael’s arm around his shoulder, helping him regain his balance. They helped one another walk through the mess of snow, blood, and bodies to get to the rental car, which surprisingly was still in alright shape. Across the train tracks, one more van started to pull up, right before the nightly train passed through town.

“Haha! Thank you train for being useful this time!”

He forgot how much it hurt to laugh, clutching his side and muttering curses under his breath as the two raced over to the car. Michael hopped in the driver’s seat after placing Trevor in the passenger’s side. Trevor’s adrenaline rush began to die down along with the rest of him. Michael raced out of the cemetery, narrowly escaping the left over henchmen. Glancing over at Trevor, he realized how shit of a shape he was in. Despite not living in North Yankton in close to 10 years, he still remembered where all the nearby hospitals were. It wasn’t ideal, considering what they were doing up there and who they were and what not, but it was better than having Trevor die on the spot.

“Hey, don’t you fucking die on me right now buddy. There’s no way you ain’t surviving the shit show we just went through, which only happened thanks to you.”

Trevor asked himself why Michael was still giving him snide remarks about his unruliness. He figured now wasn’t the time to really argue, but still tried nonetheless.

“You… fuckin’ snake.. you think you’re so..”

“I’m so what Trevor? No you know what- Don’t speak right now, but try to stay awake, please?”

“Mmph..”

The ride out of Ludendorff was quiet. The radio was off, and neither one chose to speak. Michael of course was driven mad by the silence.

“…Look. Trevor I- I fucked up. There’s nothing I can do now to fix it, no matter how many times I apologize. But you do- You do know that I cared about you then, and I care about you now…”

Trevor did nothing but grunt in response, eyelids heavy. Michael sighed.

“We’re almost to a hospital. They’ll fix you up good, and- and you’re gonna be fine. You ain’t dying on me yet. I mean- you’ve survived worse? You.. I…”

He huffed out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tight. The rest of the ride was silent, save for Michael making sure Trevor was still alive and conscious. They made it to the hospital, with Michael carrying him fireman style, seeing as Trevor was very lanky compared to him. He called out for someone to help, using his gift of lying to say that Trevor was just shot by a random mugger, so the report back wouldn’t seem too suspicious. He patiently waited for word back from a doctor, eventually seeing someone come to him with a clip board.

“Are you… Franklin?”

Michael had been smart enough to give them both fake names, but he just blurted out the first two names that came to mind. Right now, he went by Franklin, and for all they knew Trevor was Lamar.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Your friend is in critical condition, but you got him here just in time. Any later and he wouldn’t have made it.”

The last sentence caused Michael’s ears to ring.

“He’s going to be out of surgery soon, the bullet wound was pretty deep.” The doctor narrowed their eyes slightly, getting ready to write the report down.

“You said that he was mugged?”

“Yeah. The guy fired at him and ran off. Didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“Hmm… well alright. I’ll let you know when your friend is ready for visitors.”

The rest of the night was painfully slow. By the time Trevor was out of surgery, he was still hopped up on morphine, allowing him to rest properly for the first time in forever. Michael sheepishly walked in, careful not to be too loud. He made his way over to Trevor’s side, sitting in the seat next to his bed. He hadn’t seen Trevor look so content like that in so long. Not since... those days. He spoke to himself, seeing as Trevor was fast asleep.

“You worry me so much you dumbfuck… why do you pull the shit you pull? I mean.. shit. I… I love you, man. I do. But what if you died without ever hearing that from me again? Is that the reason why you get like this? Shit. Right. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Besides everything about Ludendorff, it angered Trevor to his core that Michael could never admit he loved Trevor unless he was drunk or alone. In this instance, he technically was. Trevor was peacefully dreaming, while Michael felt restless. He proceeded to fumble around for his cellphone to reach out to Franklin, who had been wondering what happened to them. He knew Franklin would probably be up anyway.

Yo Mike, where u at? Trevor too, Lamar n I gotta do one last job wit him.

F

Currently in North Yankton kid. Trev found out about Brad. Some Chinese gangsters rolled on us, T got shot. Be home soon hopefully.

M

Oh shit. Stay safe out there homie. See u soon ig.

F

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking back up at Trevor. He tried to think about what he would do next. Knowing that visiting hours were limited, he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he’d have to leave Trevor alone for a night after what happened. But it was late, and he couldn’t stay there overnight. He figured he’d have to bunk in some cheap motel for the time being. Just until Trevor and him were ready to leave North Yankton. He spoke to the doctor from before to let them know he would come back the next morning. When he arrived at the nearest shit motel, he still couldn’t find it in him to sleep. He was tired, sure, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to drift off. Even if he did, he would find himself jolting awake, the scene of Trevor getting shot playing over and over in his head. He’d almost been responsible for Trevor’s death once, he couldn’t let it happen for real. What would he do anyway if he did die? He quickly brushed the thought off, not wanting to consider the possibilities.

He returned to the hospital the next morning, half awake from the lack of sleep. Visiting hours were early, and he wanted to get them both out of here as fast as he could. Walking to Trevor’s room, he saw the man sitting upright looking out the window. North Yankton may have been cold as a bitch, but from time to time it had real pretty sunrises. He knocked lightly on the door, and Trevor turned to face him.

“Hey, T…”

He couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“I thought you left.”

“Visiting hours are limited, T. You should know that by now.”

He didn’t say anything in response, facing back towards the window instead. Michael sat down in one of the chairs across from him.

“You.. you worried me. I thought-“

“You thought what, cupcake? That I’d just die on the spot, and you could just leave my dead body there-“

“Trevor! For the last time that wasn’t my fucking plan!”

Their voices steadily increased above the normal level it should’ve been for a hospital setting.

“Then why did you have a fucking gun, huh Mikey?”

“I could ask the same for you!”

“Oh of course, turn the situation onto me again-“

“You brought a gun for what, Trevor?!”

“That’s not the issue at hand here!”

“Yes it is!”

A voice chimed into their argument.

“Excuse me. You,” A nurse who walked in pointed at Trevor.

“You need to rest. And sir, I’m not sure who you are, but if you want to stay as a visitor I suggest you lower your voice and behave.”

The two men looked at each other angrily before sitting back down. The nurse exited, most likely wanting to return later so Michael could discuss discharging him. Silence filled the room briefly.

“T… I meant what I said.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

Trevor didn’t look him in the eye. His arms were crossed, and he just looked out the window.

“I could’ve lost you.”

The other man still said nothing.

“I could’ve lost you and you would’ve died not knowing I..” He trailed off.

Trevor turned back to look at Michael while speaking.

“Knowing what? You hiding something else from me, porkchop?”

“I…”

“Spit it the fuck out Mikey or I swear to God-“

“I love you.”

His felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, and his hands became clammy. He finally forced the words out, sober.

“I love you.” He repeated, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Trevor while saying it. He chose to look at his feet instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I just.. kept thinking that you could’ve died not hearing that from me ever again.”

He didn’t notice it at first, but tears brimmed his eyes. Trevor’s scowl fell and his face softened.

“What?” Was all he could choke out.

“Don’t.. don’t make me say it again.” He said, face flushing red.

“You..” Trevor didn’t finish his sentence. He shuddered in his seat, ready to cry himself. He buried his face in his hands, muffling something incoherent.

“What?”

He lifted his head up, tears streaking his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For.. being like this.”

Trevor was a lot of things. You couldn’t just describe him in only one word. Michael tried sifting through the options of what he meant.

“I pushed you so hard back then I.. I thought I was losing you. I didn’t want to. All it did was make you want to leave even more.” Trevor kept sniffling.

“Trev…”

“Why Michael? Why do you do this to me?”

He wanted to ask him “Do what?”, but they both knew the answer. Michael never let his feelings be more than surface level. He was repressed and Trevor hated it. Trevor continued to cry, and the tears that Michael held in spilled.

“Hey.. don’t… don’t apologize, T. Please.”

“I..” He hiccuped.

“I’ve loved you for so long. Why couldn’t you have done the same?”

Michael kept his head down. He didn’t want to see the heartbroken expression on Trevor’s face. It only made him feel worse.

“You left me.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you still did. Telling me that doesn’t change anything. You became another person in my life that I loved and then you left. Same as always for me.”

Everything Trevor loved was always out of his reach. Flying, his mother, Michael, Patricia… He could go on. Nothing was ever gonna be permanent for him.

“But I’m here for you now, T. I’m not going anywhere.”

He finally looked up to see Trevor’s sad eyes burning a hole right through him. His silence told him it’d be a long while before he could believe his words.

“Now.. uh. Let’s get the fuck outta this place.”

It didn’t take long for Trevor to be discharged. The doctors had told him he should stay for another day or so, but only got an irritated response from Trevor. Figuring the duo wouldn’t budge on wanting to leave, he was signed off for clearance. They eventually found the plane Trevor flew in on, and made their way out of the state. Neither one knew if this would change anything between them, but Trevor felt more at ease around him. It would still take time and effort for any left over wounds to heal, but for right now, Trevor was content.

[awhst-alt]

I HAD THE BEST BYLER DREAM LAST NIGHT AND I REALLY WANNA SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL

it's so long (literally 2k words) so im gonna put it under the cut haha <3

so basically this would take place after mike and will start dating or something, idk exactly the time frame (i picture them being like 18 or something and this is the summer before college) and will goes to this summer arts program for like 2/3 months (i dunno how long american summer is but something like that) and its all the way far from home so there is dorms and stuff and he's "not in hawkins anymore" (no pun intended)

mike and will decide after will finishes his school they'd go to college together (cuz they're gonna be comic book artists together bc thats boyfriend shit) so throughout these months he's practically just waiting for will (<333333)

so one specific scene i remember from my dream involved will and mike getting off the bus to the school and then they hug and then mike grabs wills hand and brings him behind the bus and then he gives will a biggg kiss bc he won't be able to kiss him for 3 months. then they say they love each other and will gives him another quick kiss and is like "two kisses". they agree they'd call each other every day.

so will goes inside and mike goes back on the bus and goes home.

and basically the whole day is a whirl, until the end of it, in which mike is sitting in the kitchen near the phone waiting for like 3 hours for will to call, and will doesn't end up calling.

AND THEN IT GETS SPICYYYYY

so meanwhile at the arts program will asks like the front desk or something if he can call mike and they say phone is offlimits and they don't let him call mike

so then will goes to sleep and he's paranoid that he thinks mike is gonna hate him or something like that

mk than the next day in class there is this girl (they didn't reveal her name in the dream, ill call her stella) so stella is basically looking at will the entire class but will doesn't know it

so when they exit the class stella's like "hi" and will says "hi"

then stella says "i like your painting."

will is like rlly weirded out so he goes "thanks?"

"i um- hope this doesn't sound weird but i have no friends, do you want to be mine?"

"sure"

and then end of scene (this does not sound like a normal conversation but it's my dream so it doesn't have to make sense"

so BACK AT HAWKINS mike is still sleeping even tho it's like 3 pm because yk depressed boyfriend shit but then the PHONE RINGS and mike gets out of bed frantically and goes to the phone and he picks it up and is like "will?" and then it answers "it's el, idiot"

i feel like this is important for context but el speaks english very well now and hoppers back and she lives with hopper and not the byers anymore. ANYWAYS

el says "how's will?"

mike says "idk he didn't call"

"he didn't?"

"no, he didn't"

"okay. well maybe he will call later"

"yeah mb"

"wanna come over"

"ok"

so mike hangs up and gets changed and goes to el's house bc they r a couple o' besties and when he gets there it's like a therapy sessions bc mike usally talks to will every single day and he can't for like 3 months (unless will calls, but he's not going to) so he accepts he's gonna be depressed for 3 months and he's just talking to el about how he's gonna miss him so much and no be able to see his face and that shit

so el's like "well do u wanna do something to take ur mind off of him"

and mike's like "no im not gonna replace will" (I SCREAMED IN MY DREAM SRSLY)

but than el says "okay. guess im gonna go to the mall by myself" (ig starcourt is rebuilt by now)

and than mike bolts up and is like "fine"

"we can by something for will"

"okay yay"

so then they go to starcourt yasss!!

anyways back at the art school will is having lunch and stella is with he friends (even tho she said she doesn't have any friends) and one of her friends is like "omg did you see _____ he's so hot"

and another friend says "YESS! but ____ is cuter"

"what abt u stella? who do u have ur eyes on"

she says "byers" BUT NOOOOOOO WILL IS MIKES MAN

and they say "ew that kid who came back to life"

she says "yea. but he's cute, and shy, and once i wrap them around my finger i can get them to do anything"

so then she goes to sit down next to will at lunch

"hi will"

"hi"

"hru"

"im good"

"okay. good." and she gets upset because will goes ask how she is but she keeps her urging rage inside. and than they have this weird conversation and will is uncomfortable the whole time bc shes all like flirting with him and will is seeing someone obvi

but then she puts a hand on will's shoulder and he's shaking and then says something (idk what it is it wasn't explaining in my dream) then will stands up and runs to the bathroom. so he's just sitting in the stalls crying.

okay back at starcourt this part wasn't shown in my dream but im just gonna make up that mike and el go looking around starcourt for something for will (sort of like the mike/lucas/will montage where they were looking for stuff for el) and then i guess they find something for will and i don't have the slightest idea what they could have got for him BUT THEY GOT HIM SOMETHING GOOD

so mike's all happy but they'res still that depression inside of him lol

so fast forward a week, it really isn't explained but ill just make up that will still hasn't called mike, and he's super sad and all sleeping in but decides to look through his good ol binder full of will's drawings and in the arts school will and stella have a few more interactions im sure which are still very uncomfortable

okay so it's lunch again in the cafeteria and somehow will and stella are talking again but somehow it ends in stella kissing will and will like pulls away immediatley and is like "what is wrong with you!?"

and she says "what?"

"i'm seeing someone!"

"oh i uh- i didn't know."

the whole cafeteria is staring at them

so will's freaking out almost on the verge of a panic attack "idk what to do, he's gonna hate me and-"

"he?"

will has the look on his face like shit shit shit oh fuck no

"you're gay?"

"i-"

and will runs off once again. and everyone in the whole cafeteria knows that he's day and ofc with everybody being homophobic will knows it's not good at all bc everyone's gonna bully him

so then the next day he goes to class and the teacher is like "does anyone care to tell me where ___ is?" (it would be like a math question like 'where x is' but in art idkkk) and then the teacher calls on "will? can you tell me where ___ is?" and they'res a pause and then the teacher says "or perhaps you'd want to find your boyfriend instead?" (giving me anne with an e vibes prolly cuz i did a rewatch last weekend but i won't explain more in case some people haven't watched it but) anyways will stands up from his seat, everyone is looking at him, and he's shaking and so concerned but then he goes "fuck. you" badass will yeaaaa thats my boy

so then he runs out of the classroom and out of the school in a really cool montage way but then he realizes he's like 2 hours away from home but he runs and runs and he goes to a random bustop (it's not even garanteed if it takes him to hawkins but whatever) he gets on and tries to go back to hawkins.

and soon enough, he gets there, and immediatley goes to the wheelers because he needs to see mike and apologize for everything. so he's at the wheelers, and rings the doorbell, realizing he's still in his uniform lol but karen answers and mike is upstairs in his room sulking (i picture it would be 8 pm by now) so will asks for mike and karen calls mike. mike groans obviously because he doesn't know it's his boy, but he comes down, karen gets out of the way and as soon as he sees will they have a really big hug and it's super sweet and my heart UFHEIOSKA

mike says his usual "are you okay?" and mike is still confused as shit but will says "i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry" and mike says "you don't have to be sorry for anyrhing" but will says "ill explain"

so then they go to will's room, side-by-side on his bed and will starts explaining everything

(this is mostly improvised by me but it's still pretty similar to the dream)

"i hated it."

"the school?"

"yeah. there was no you, (mike blushes lmao), everything was terrible, i felt so lonely, they didn't let me call you-"

"what?"

"they said the phone was off limits. i wanted to talk to you so bad and i thought you'd hate me"

"i could never hate you, will, even if i tried." will smiles

"and then there was this girl, and she hit on me and i didn't know what to do bc i'd be the face of the school if i told her i was dating you and was gay and today she kissed me"

"WHAT"

"im sorry im sorry i didn't kiss back and i was so scared bc i never was in a relationship before and i was so scared it was considered cheating-"

and mike LAUGHSS

"what? mike? what's wrong?"

"if you don't do anything back, it's not considerd 'cheating'"

"oh. good. are you mad at me?"

"what? no! no never!" so mike opens his arms and says "come here" so will and mike hug or something like that and then mike says "do you need me to beat her up?"

and will says "you can't even beat eggs. besides, your noodle arms wouldn't be able to do harm to even a fly"

so mike laughs and says "i'm glad your home"

so will blurts "i cursed out a teacher"

"you? cursing?"

"yes."

"might have to start calling you a bad boy now"

will just smiles and says "i love you"

and mike says "i love you too"

AND THEN END AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF BC I LOVE THIS DREAM LIKE I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF THIS BUT IM OBSESSED

ALSO ONCE I FINISH WYBMFFAE ILL PROBABLY WRITE THIS INTO A FULL BLOWN FIC BUT AHIHFUSAH

edit: i have no idea what mike did with the present him and el bought for will but i guess they ended up giving it to him lol

[jenoptimist]

you may have only gotten half a pudding cup but you got yourself a real life Disney Prince, so who’s the real winner?

✮ Pairing: kunhang x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff

✮ Word count: 5.8k

♡ Yakult says: hendery!!!!in!!glasses!!!!!!! pls i love him sm 🥲

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a phone number in you calculus textbook that you were one hundred percent sure you never wrote down. Not that you could, anyway, considering that it was a library book. Well, no, techincally you could write it in but you wouldn’t dare. The longer you stared at the handful of digits, the more you freaked out. You absolutely could not afford to be fined! The whole reason why you borrowed it from your college library was so that you didn’t have to spend money in the first place!

After gathering your materials and stuffing them into your bag, you hurriedly left your local library. You fished your phone out of your pocket, scrolled through your – admittedly pathetically short – list of contacts and called the person who you suspected wad the source of your small dilemma.

“‘Sup?” Yangyang greeted.

“Be honest with me,” you said seriously, immediately cutting to the chase, “were you the one who wrote the number?”

There was a beat of silence, and then, “what number?”

“You know,” you urged as you neared the apartment complex that the two of you lived in. “The one in my calculus textbook? I borrowed it from the college library and I don’t want to get into shit if they find it.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Oh really?” You asked in disbelief as you hopped into the elevator and punched the number to your floor. After what you dubbed as, ‘The Spaghetti Incident of 2018’ you could never be too sure with him. When he replied that he didn’t, you asked him another two times. Throughout your friendship with Yangyang, you found that the trick to getting him to admit the truth was to keep badgering him until he either: got fed up or thought that whatever he did was no longer funny.

“I swear on my Hot Wheels!”

You hummed in consideration. His Hot Wheels collection was his utmost pride and joy - second only to his large sneaker collection - especially since he owned a handful of exclusive and rare ones. They were all displayed neatly on several shelves on one of the walls in his bedroom. They were even color coordinated and everything! Sometimes, when you went to offer him some food, you found him staring at them with a wide smile, his eyes full of admiration.

“Oh,” you frowned as you grabbed your keys from your jacket pocket but before you could slot your key into the lock, the door opened. Yangyang, the dork, greeted you over the phone even though he stood in front of you, a boyish grin displayed on his face. You rolled your eyes, not able to smother your smile as you hung up and stepped inside, locking the door behind you. It was noticeably warmer than usual and the apartment smelled if something toasty, which only meant one thing. “Pizza?” You guessed confidently.

Just as he gave you an affirmative, the oven began beeping to signal that it was finished. As Yangyang brought everything to the coffee table in front of your couch, you slipped off your shoes, dropped your bag and shrugged your coat off. While he cut the pizzas into almost even slices, you grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge.

Although it was still piping hot, you couldn’t help but take big bites. Your slice of doughy goodness was diminished within seconds. Solving calculus problems did thay to you. It was your least favorite module of the semester and brought on a headache whenever you left your lectures.

“This is so good.” You remarked as you took another slice. You loved a good margherita from Dominos but there was nothing like a frozen pizza from your local supermarket—the additives was probably what made it delicious, the cheap price just happened to be a bonus. Yangyang definitely felt the same, seeing as how the two of you devoured both pizzas within minuts, silence taking over the room.

You took a sip of your soda after popping open the top. “I”–you didn’t like the mischief that danced in uour room-mate’s eyes–“dare you to call the number.”

In your haste to swallow it, the soda passed through your throat uncomfortably, as if it were a large stone. “Nuh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. There was absolutely no way you were going to call that number! You were just going to forget that it was even there. Or maybe you would return the book and hope that the next unfortunate student who will borrow it would be the one to pay whatever fine they had for ‘defacing public property’, as the college liked to call it. You didn’t know how many people had a calculus module in their course but you sure hoped that it was a large number.

“Awh come on, y/n!” At the firm shake of your head, he folded his arms and pouted slightly. A moment of silence passed and then, “I’ll give you a twenty.”

You took another sip of your soda as you mulled it over. “How about a ten and your last mango pudding cup for a text?”

Yangyang sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tough bargain.” You shrugged, he hogged the other five pudding cups for himself so if he really wanted you to call this mystery person, he would have to give up the remaining one. “Okay, what if I give you fifteen and we split the pudding cup.”

“Better than nothing.” You conceeded after a second of thinking it over.

Yangyang’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he held out his hand for you to take. Once you shook it, the two of you quickly cleaned up. Not even ten minutes later, the last pudding cup and two spoons were on the table along with the textbook, opened on the page with the number on it. Yangyang leaned closer to your shoulder, his head practically resting on top of yours as he watched you type in the number and text.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hey! i found ur number on a textbook i borrowed from the library so i thought i’d say hi i guess?

“Now we wait.” Yangyang said as he returned to his seat and opened the pudding cup. He handed you your spoon and the two of you dug in, eventually fighting for the last bit.

The reply came when you and Yangyang were watching Into The Spiderverse. Neither of you paused the movie when you heard the notification sound your phone let out—you had seen it countless times; twice when it was in cinemas and every so often whenever it was on Netflix.

You were slightly nervous about the reply, which was silly considering that you didn’t even know the person, but you opened up the text anyway so that it would be over and done with.

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Hi. My friend just told me he wrote it in there before I transferred. I’d be grateful if you could rub it out or use correction tape to get rid of it. Also, please delete my number.

You pursed your mouth at the response. It wasn’t as if you were hoping to be best friends or anything but the prospect of befriending someone had definitely excited you. You had college friends but that was liferally what they were: friends who you only saw in college. None of them hung out with you outside of college and whenever you did offer, they would either say yes to humour you – which, unfortunately, was blatantly obvious – or came up with an excuse. Which sucked, for obvious reasons but you would survive. The only people you had actually managed to successfully befriend were Yangyang (because he was looking for a room-mate at the time) and his best friend, Dejun.

“Uh-oh,” came Yangyang’s voice. “What did they say?” He was quick to read the text after you turned your phone to show him the screen. “Whoever it is, they’re very, um,” he paused for a moment while he thought of a fitting description, scratching his head, “grammatically correct?” At your nod of agreement, he added, “at least he said ‘please’.”

You shrugged as you typed a quick reply. “I guess.”

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

sure thing

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Thank you.

The two of you refocused your attention to the movie, the texts completely forgotten once you received his reply. Later that night, you did as you were requested and used correction tape to hide the number—which was written in neat, tiny green ink. You were aware that covering the numbers in correction tape would also be considered as ‘defacing public property’ too, but it was for the sake of the stranger’s privacy. It seemed as though you were the fiest to contact the number but, still, if you were in their position, you wouldn’t like your number to be in public property either.

As for the text, you took a screenshot of it for Yangyang, who asked for it so that he could show Dejun while he typed away in your groupchat, and then erased the number from your phone.

*

Two weeks later, you found yourself sitting at the study desk in your room, staring helplessly at the blank answer boxes of the calculus assignment you had been told to complete and submit before the end of next week. You wanted to cry in frustration as you redirected your gaze down to your notebook where you had been trying to solve the equations. The entire page was a mess and your desk was coverd with eraser bits. It had gotten to the point where some parts of the page had gone grainy, like it always did when you repeatedly erased something on the same area. There wasn’t a single problem that you managed solve—no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic, really.

With a sigh, you decided to take the break that you had put off, not wanting to take one until you solved a problem (ha!) as a reward. Maybe you would rewatch the entire Twilight saga again (Dejun had managed to convince you to read the series a couple of months back and the movies had become something like a guilty pleasure of yours,) because it was clear that you were going absolutely nowhere.

Just as you had started Eclipse, you heard the door open but didn’t bother moving from your spot. In fact, you hadn’t moved since you started your movie marathon a few hours ago because you were all too comfortable buried inside your fluffy blanket on the couch.

“Perfect timing!” Dejun’s rich voice bellowed, “it just started.” There was the sound of socked feet running towards the couch and then he lifted your legs, sat down and laid them down on top of his lap.

“Hey Dejun.” You greeted, raising your hand for a high five.

When he slapped his palm against yours, he asked, “how’re you doing?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Yangyang spoke up. “Judging from the Twilight marathon that’s going on,” there was a hissing sound of a can opening and the audible sound of him taking a quick sip of whatever canned beverage he was holding, “not very good.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed but your your friend only shrugged, smiling amusedly. “He’s right though,” you grumbled, “I’m really struggling with calculus at the moment.” Struggling was an understatement. You really wanted to pass it because you definitely didn’t want to repeat the exam. That would be a nightmare.

Dejun looked at you sympathetically before he made an affronted noise in his throat, one that you felt deeply in your soul as he turned to face Yangyang. “The Twilight saga is a cinematic masterpiece and you absolutely cannot change my mind.”

“Okay,” the blond replied, clearly up for the challenge. “But it’s not better than Shrek now, is it?”

“Shrek?” Dejun repeated incredulously. “Shrek is an iconic classic but the Twilight saga? Definitely on a different wavelength. The scene in New Moon where Bella just sits on her chair looking out the window soullessly? Perfection! It was a fantastic book to movie adaptation. And don’t even get me started on—”

“As thrilling as your debate is becoming,” you said, interrupting the point that the brunet was about to make, “I’d really love to continue the movie so I can hear young BooBoo Stewart say, ‘newest, bestest, brightest’ to help me feel a crumb of joy.” You were unable to find it in yourself to feel guilty about cutting in. They could take their debate somewhere else while you continued to wallow in your feelings of failure.

The pair read your mood easily and shrugged at one another in concession. Dejun patted your leg lightly in comfort as Yangyang jumped on the couch to sit on your other side, giving you a quick side-hug before focusing on the movie. It was silent up until Rosalie finished telling Bella her the story about her past.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dejun spoke up.

“Uh-oh.” Yangyang muttered playfully to you, his voice purposefully loud. You huffed out a laugh before lightly digging your elbow into his side, knowing that he’s had an awful share of ideas in the past.

Dejun stuck his tongue out at him but continued with what he began saying instead of retaliating. “Why don’t you text that person? The one whose number was in the textbook you borrowed? They must have done the module or something.”

You considered what he said seriously, even pausing the movie so that you could discuss it with him. “What if they didn’t though? What if it was their friend who borrowed the textbook? They did say that it was their friend who wrote it there.”

“Then you could just ask their friend for help.” Yangyang piped up. It was a statement that you couldn’t counter but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to.

“I don’t have their number anymore,” you said to them. “They asked me to delete it, remember?”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Dejun told you as he reached into one of the pockets of his jeans and fished out his phone. Yangyang leaned over slightly and the two of you watched as Dejun quickly swiped his finger up his phone. “Here you go!” He said brightly, turning his phone so that you were facing the screen. And there it was: the screenshot that Yangyang asked you to take so that he could send it to Dejun. There was no way you could weasel your way out of this situation now.

“Okay,” you relented, “I’ll text them after we finish this saga.”

“If you text them after this movie, I’ll pay for take-out.” Yangyang bribed, eager for this idea to take place.

You weighed out the pros and cons briefly before agreeing with him. It would be a win-win situation: you would get take-out and a possible tutor. It seemed as if time moved quicker because the movie felt as though it finished within a few minutes. As Yangyang dialed the number for a local take-out place, you slowly typed out a text, him and Dejun watching you with hawk eyes.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

hi! it’s me again. i know you don’t know me but could you please help me with calc? or your friend, whoever borrowed the textbook. please. i feel like my brain is melting

You flung your phone on the table, laid back down on the sofa and released a long sigh. It would be a lie if you said that you weren’t hoping that they would say yes. You were trying your best but it was as if your brain refused to coorperate with you when it came to calculus. If only Yangyang or Dejun were enrolled in the same course as you. It was often that you thoughr that wistfully, especially during times such as this.

It was when you were about to shove a huge lump of lo mein into your mouth that your phone lit up, indicating that you received a notification. You stuffed the noodles into your mouth and grabbed your phone off of the table, dropping your wooden chopsticks into the rest of your dish.

“What did they say?” Dejun asked as he bit into an egg roll.

“Depends,” you read out. “Would I get paid for it?” You practically exclaimed the last part. It was fair that they were wondering about payment after all, who would want to tutor for free? The thought of the amount in your bank account had you cringing, you couldn’t afford to pay for a tutor at the minute. Although, you couldn’t afford to fail your module, either. So it was a lose-lose sotuation. You sighed before shoving another chopstick full of noodles into your mouth as you thought of a reply, eyes never leaving your screen. “How can I say, ‘no I cant’t but I really need your help’ without sounding desperate?”

“You can’t.” Yangyang replied matter-of-factly, chewing on his mapo tofu.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

no but u’d have my gratitude forever???????

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Oh.

[typing. . .]

I’ll have to think about it.

[typing. . .]

Just kidding! I’ll help you out, free of charge. Would you like to do it over the phone or meet IRL?

You cheered loudly when their last text delivered. “I’m guessing they said yes?” Dejun said, smirking smugly. You nodded, grinning widely as your fingers flew on the keyboard in your phone.

to: 13X XXXX XXXX

omg ur a lifesaver!!!!! maybe over the phone?? it’ll probably be more convenient foe the both of us :)

from: 13X XXXX XXXX

Gotcha. We can discuss our schedule sometime tomorrow.

*

Your tutor, Wong Kunhang, was surprisingly really helpful. He was much more friendly than you thought he would be, immediately introducing himself after greeting you over the phone. For the entire three hours that the two of you were on the phone, he was nothing but the epitome of patience. Not only that, but he explained everything in a way that you could easily understand and even cracked a lame joke or two to break the tension whenever he noticed that you were becoming incredibly frustrated. By the end of the session, you felt microscopically better about calculus. While you couldn’t say that you were especially ecstatic for the upcoming lectures and assignments, it was safe to say that, while you had a long way to go, things were sort of looking up.

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

Same time next week?

to: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

definitely!!

[typing. . .]

also if ur comfortable with it can we pls video chat instead?? i think it would be much quicker than us sending each other pictures back and forth

from: Wong Kunhang (tutor)

That’s a good idea! I can’t believe we didn’t think of it earlier ahahaha.

*

As you worked through the practice problems that Kunhang prepared for you, you couldn’t help but sneakily stare at your phone to catch a glimpse of him repeatedly. It sure came as a surprise when it came time for the video call and you found yourself face to face with a Disney Prince who came to life. There was no other way to sum up how handsome he was. He somewhat reminded you of Prince Eric—what with his black hair, wide, bright eyes and kind smile. It wasn’t as if you thought or expected that he would he unnattractive. In fact, you hadn’t really wondered about what he would look like at all since you had a long list of priorities. None of which included thinking about whether or not you would find your tutor attractive.

But still. Kunhang was definitely one of those people who were blessed with beauty and brains. One of the Universe’s favorites, if you will.

“You good? Are you stuck on something?” You started at Kunhang’s voice, eyes flying from your phone to your page and back to meet his expectant look. You murmured a negative and resolutely kept your gaze on your work for the next half an hour to avoid a repeat of what had just jappened.

*

After nearly two months, the tutoring session had become a bi-weekly thing. Sort of. Somewhere in between you whining about every question but toughing it out and him encouraging you while also lightly teasing you, you and Kunhang became friends. One of the two sessions somehow always ended up with the both of you chatting, completely abandoning the unsolved equations in favor of getting to know one another, or, mostly recently, switching back and forth between the show that the two of you suggested to one another.

This week you would be tuning into his suggestion, Love Death + Robots. Kunhang would talk every now and again during some parts, especially when it came to his favorites, but you found that you didn’t really mind. Not when he sounded so (adorably) excited about it. The series itself was pretty good so far albeit short – six episodes in total, and the two of you were already on the fourth one – which meant that the you that you recommended (The Office because you were astounded that he hadn’t watched at least one episode) would soon become the primary source of entertainment since the two of you were only on season three.

As you stood in the snacks aisle, internally debating one which type of popcorn you should purchase (salted or buttered? the microwaveable kind or loose kernels? also, which brand? there were so many options, maybe too many,) your phone vibrated in your pocket. Swapping your basket from your non-dominant hand to your dominant one, you pulled out your phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Kunhang greeted back brightly, “uh, so listen, I know we have our thing later but one of my sisters is moving out of her apartment and she asked me to help. Is it okay if we cancel?” The poor guy sounded super apologetic.

“Yeah, totally! Help her out!”–briefly, you thought about offering your assistance before deciding against it because that would be awkward and weird. Weirdly awkward. Awkwardly weird. Whatever–“I mean, it’s not like what we do is a set thing, anyway. I’ll probably ask the guys to hang out instead.” You eyed your basket full of snacks and made a mental note to grab the particular brand of potato chips that Dejun liked, already predicting that he would agree.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for hours on end. You would have assumed that the line dropped or went dead for some reason but you could definitely hear some shuffling sounds on the other side and, in a totally non-creepy way, Kunhang’s breathing.

“Right,” he finally replied, drawling the word out. There was another silence that felt extremely awkward. You wondered what facial expression he was making at the moment. It could have possibly clued you into what he as thinking. “Well that’s all I wanted to say I guess.”

“Oh,” you mumbled and then after a beat, you followed up with, “do you prefer salted or buttered popcorn? I’m trying to choose right now but I can’t decide.”

“Definitely salted. Buttered always leaves my mouth feeling weird.” You hummed while trapping you phone in between your ear and shoulder so that you could grab the generic box brand of microwaveable salted popcorn. The conversation carred on without anymore awkward pauses. You picked up a couple of items that he recommended every now and again, trusting his judgement. “Hey, you know what we should do?” Kunhang said as you queued up for the self-service checkout line, eyeing the items on display. When you hummed in response, he followed with, “we should hang out next week. In real life. We could do it on Sunday so you’ll still have one day of tutoring.”

It felt somewhat embarrassing that you agreed so quickly to his suggestion. You definitely should have played it cool but you had been meaning to ask him the same thing for a while now, so you were glad that he suggested it. “We can meet up at a café or something! Maybe have lunch? I’m paying, though!” It was only fair since he was helping you out for free.

“Lunch sounds good.”

“Great!”

“Great!” Kunhang mimicked, just as enthusiastically. “I’ve got to go but I’ll text you later?”

Both of you said your goodbyes then hung up. After tucking your phone back into your pocket, you made your way to the till that just freed up and began scanning your items. Once everything was paid for and bagged, you retrieved your phone to shoot a quick text in the group chat with Yangyang and Dejun, asking them if they felt like watching a movie franchise with you. They agreed, but only after Yangyang asked if ‘you’re weekly date with Kunhang got cancelled’ which earned him a picture of you flipping him off.

*

“Today’s the big date, huh?” Yangyang asked teasingly as you checked your appearance in the mirror once more, sprawled out on the couch as he made his way through his third mango pudding cup. From beside him, Dejun and Yukhei – the newest addition to your friend group since he and Dejun had to do an assignment together – gave your form an assessing once over.

Dejun, smiling mischievously, said, “obviously, can’t you tell by how nicely they’re dressed.”

You mock glared at the pair while Yukhei lightly slapped Dejun for his comment. Then he, bless his heart, beamed at you and said, “you look great!”

“Thank you,” you replied, smiling sweeting at him before addressing the other two, you firmly said, “and it’s not a date. We’re just hanging out, like the three, now four”–you corrected, glancing over at Yukhei–“of us do on a regular basis.”

“Oh, are they just a friend from your course then or something?” Yukhei asked curiously while Dejun and Yangyang hummed in unison, disbelief clear in their tones.

“No, it’s this guy, he helps me out with calculus. We’ve never met in person but he’s really nice.”

“I should hope so,” muttered Yangyang, peeling the seal off another mango pudding cup. “You’ve been crushing on him for a while now, so it would be a bummer if he wasn’t.” He said through a mouthful.

“Am not!”

“Are too!” Dejun countered for him.

“Am not,” Yangyang mimicked. “So what about all the times you’ve mentioned him then, huh?” And then he placed his pudding cup on the table, clasped his hands together by his cheeks and, in a voice that was meant to sound like yours, said, “‘oh, Kunhang told me this stuff is really good, we should try it out!’, ‘Kunhang is so smart!’, ‘can you believe Kunhang volunteers at the animal shelter and the nursery home as much as he can? Isn’t that so sweet?’, ‘Kunhang has such a Disney Prince smile!’. You gush about him all the time, it’s kinda sickening.”

You threw your arm out at him as you looked towards Dejun, hoping for some back up but you should have known better. They were your best friends after all. Dejun simply shrugged as he snatched a pudding cup from the coffee table and said, “to be fair, you do gush about him a lot. And! Whenever you text him, which most of the time, you get this goofy smile one your face.”

“Huh,” Yukhei mumbled, his tone full of thought. “This guy sounds a lot like one of my buddies.” The three of you looked at him with wide, curious eyes. When he noticed, he added, “it’s probably just a coincidence?” Although his tone suggested otherwise.

“Probably,” you replied as you grabbed your keys and shoved them in your pocket. “I’ve gotta get going or else I’ll be late.” You said as you made a beeline towards the door and slipped on the shoes you thought best suited your outfit. “Don’t wait up!”

“Why?” Yangyang replied just as you were about to close the door, playfulness evident in his voice, “I thought it was just lunch.” The other two cackled at that but you flipped him off and left the apartment, trusting that one of them would like the door behind you.

It was fortunate that you managed to catch the bus on time. After paying the appropriats fare, you made your way towards the back, earphones plugged in so that you could listen to some music along the way. Once seated, you took out your phone sent a text to Kunhang to let him know that you were on your way. His response was immediate, informing you that he was already nearby because his sister had asked him to run an errand for her, and asked you to text him when you were close.

Horizon was a cute little place that served as both a café and restaurant. It was sandwiched between a thrift shop and music store but, surprisingly, didn’t look the least bit out of place among the buildings. As you walked closed to it, you saw Kunhang standing by the entrance, bopping his head as he used his phone.

“Kunhang!” You called when you were close enough, after taking off your earphones and stuffing them into your pocket. Judging from the way he jolted slightly, you startled him. “Hey,” you greeted warmly when he removed his earphones. “You could have waited inside.”

Kunhang shrugged, a brilliant smile etched onto his face, “I thought it’d be easier if we walked in together.”

When you entered, you thought that you would have to find somewhere else to eat due to the amount of people present, but the staff who was waiting by the door only asked if you were eating in and then lead you to a table in the far corner of the room, right beside the window.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, y’know, in person.” Kunhang said as he browsed through the menu.

“You too,” you replied, peeking up from your own menu to find him wearing a hint of a smile. “I can’t believe it took us this long to be honest.”

Kunhang chuckled at that and nodded in agreement.

The meal seemed to fly by even though you left Horizon a little later than expected. You were still laughing as you headed out, thanking the waiter that served you one more time as you passed by him, at a story that Kunhang recounted that took place during his childhood. Although his texting style suggested otherwise, Kunhang was hilarious—which you knew already since he often made you laugh whenever you were on the phone with him, it was just a different feeling compared to the experience in person. You were almost sad at the thought of your time being over with him, until he jammed his hands into his pockets and, rocking back and forth on his herl, asked if you wanted to go get some ice cream since he knew a really good place nearby. And who were you to say no to that offer?

After fighting, again, over who would pay, the two of you roamed around for a bit, slipping into this store and that to window shop. Only when the stores began to close did you realize how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dark out, not yet, and you were surprised that several hours had passed since you first met up with Kunhang.

“Ready to call it quits?” You asked as the two of you began to make your way to where you would wait for your bus.

Kunhang shook his head and pointed somewhere behind you. “Let’s go to the playground over there. Race you.” And with that, he took off, leaving you to stare at him dumbfoundedly until your brain registered what he said and you ran after him.

“Cheater!” You huffed when you reached him, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

Kunhang did nothing but through his head back and laugh at you. Attractively. It was something to ignore—his attractiveness, that was. But it was awfully difficult and all you could do was hope that he didn’t notice how you were looking at him. You couldn’t help it! Even though his outfit was relatively basic – just some gray-brown sweatshirt, black joggers and a pair of white sneakers – he looked effortlessly good. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made him attractive, either, oh no, because that just wasn’t enough. He also had to have an amazing personality.

“Let’s go over there,” he said after he sobered up, nodding towards the spring riders. “No racing this time.” He added with a wide grin. You weren’t able to suppress your own grin quick enough, rolling your eyes as you shoved his shoulder.

“I’m glad we met up today,” you admitted sincerely as you rocked back and forth on the spring ride. “You’re even better in person.”

Kunhang stopped rocking on his spring ride and looked at you. “I’m glad we met up today, too.” He told you with a smile that turned into one that was more sweet and shy as he said, “we should do it again some time, y’know, when we aren’t flooded with assignments and stuff.”

“Totally!”

“How about, maybe,”–Kunhang’s tongue darted out a sliver of his to wet his lips–“as a date?”

You stared at him in shock which he met head-on, that sweet, shy smile of his still present. You could feel a smile threaten to rise and you allowed it, messing with the hem of your top as you nodded in agreement. “That would be nice.”

“Really?” He asked, his tone both excited and unbelieving. When you assured him that you would be really looking forward to it, he said, “that’s– that’s great! I can’t wait, either.” Then, he jumped of his spring ride, held out his hand and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles like the Disney Prince he was when you placed your hand in his.

“We should probably head home.” You said, hand still in his. Kunhang never let go, so you figured he was okay with you interlocking your fingers and swinging your hands back and forth.

Like the gentleman he was, he waited for your bus with you and waited until you got on it, blowing kisses at you through the window. Your smile was so big your cheeks began to hurt as you pretended to catch the kisses.

(Later, after you had told Yangyang about how the day went swimmingly, you received a text from Kunhang and couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh. Your room-mate shot you a curious look so you let him read the text.

from: kunhang 💘

You know Yukhei?!?!?!!!!)

[15-dogs]

something like this |s.b.|

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: sirius always seems to have something to say about your boyfriend, but maybe it’s because his words are powered by another emotion

warnings: light swearing

guide: (Y/N) = your name, italics = flashback

word count: 2229

a/n: hi hello I’m a HUGE new girl fan and I was rewatching some episodes the other night (specifically oregon s4e16) and then I had an urge to make a fic?? off of the episode?? so yeah that’s what I did lol I hope all of you like it!!

“Sorry,” Remus said as he placed a letter before you, “it’s not from him.”

You groaned and threw your head in your hands. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you― specifically Sirius― so you regained composure, meeting everyone’s sad eyes with a smile.

“It’s fine!” You shot a glare at Sirius who hid his smirk with a long sip from his mug. “Don’t start with me, Sirius.”

“I haven’t said a word, love.”

You rolled your eyes as you got up from the table. “He’s coming, I know he is.”

“I bet he’s just busy, (Y/N),” Peter assured you.

“Yeah, you’re right, Peter. He’s just busy.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t make time for you,” Sirius interjected.

You rounded on the raven haired boy, finger pointed at his chest. “I thought I said not to start with me,” you sneered.

Sirius raised his hands in defense, standing up so he towered over you. “I’m just saying, Ben’s your boyfriend, he should be spending his summer with you here. Or at least he should write you. When did he say he was visiting us? Four days ago, was it?”

You scuffed your feet against the wooden paneling of the little home you shared with the three boys. You suddenly felt ashamed; you didn’t want to admit that Sirius had a point, but he most certainly did. Ben hadn’t bothered to contact you since you moved in. When you two went long distance, Ben had promised he’d at least stay for a bit to help you unpack but there you were, living in your new flat with Remus, Sirius, and Peter for a couple weeks now, nearly fully unpacked and ready to move on. But you weren’t ready to move on from Ben.

And then you were back under Sirius’s gaze, his eyes softening as your shoulders drooped. “Six days ago. He said he was coming six days ago.”

Sirius cursed himself for falling prey to your doe eyes. He grabbed you by the arms, ducking to meet your gaze. “Hey, look, I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You wiggled out of his grasp and waved him off as you stalked towards your room. “It’s...it’s really fine, Sirius.”

He ran his hand through his hair in distraught. “Shit, no-”

“It’s fine, Sirius, it’s fine.”

As you disappeared into your room and shut the door behind you, Remus clapped Sirius on the back. “So smooth, Pads. Really, I think she might have fallen in love with you already.”

Sirius shrugged out of Remus’s hand and stormed off towards his room, leaving Remus and Peter stifling snickers behind him.

Sirius flopped onto his bed, throwing his head back onto the pillow. He groaned at his actions, recalling what happened months prior, before you got together with Ben.

“Listen, I can’t just kiss you like this!” Sirius cried. A cocky grin tugged at your lips. Sirius’ eyes went wide and he shook his head fervently.

“What does that mean?”

“N-nothing.”

Sirius Black was nervous. And it was all because of you.

He started to stammer our poor excuses before promptly shutting himself up and darting off towards his dorm. You called after him, feeling terrible for making fun of him during the little drinking game. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wasn’t joking when he said he didn’t want to kiss you like that, but still wanted to kiss you.

And Sirius wanted to. He wanted to since he met you but you were too blind to see it.

―

You paced around the kitchen, awaiting an owl from Ben. Remus almost felt sorry for you, watching you pause every few minutes because you thought you heard a hoot or a flap of wings.

But for the hundredth time that day, you paused at the sound of wings. And so did Remus.

You ran to the window to catch the owl, seeing that it was Ben’s tawny. You squealed with excitement as Sirius exited his room. He felt instantly filled with regret as he saw you petting the owl, bouncing up and down.

“Sirius, look! I told you he’d write, I told you!”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and feigned happiness. “Well, you proved me wrong, (Y/N).”

“What does it say?” Remus interjected.

You ripped open the letter, your eyes scanning over the sweet words that your boyfriend wrote you. You read it once, twice, three times, your face falling with each individual read. Sirius furrowed his brow and placed a hand on your shoulder. You gasped at his touch and looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

You let out a watery chuckle and forced a smile on your face. “Ben’s not coming,” you explained. “Too busy. He says that we’re probably already unpacked so it wouldn’t make sense for him to buy a Portkey and travel from America and whatnot, so…”

“What?” Sirius looked appalled. “You’re joking.”

“I guess you could say I can’t be Sirius.” Even Sirius couldn’t laugh at your joke. You shifted your weight and looked at the floor. “Go on, Sirius, tell me how shitty of a person Ben is. I know that you’re dying to.”

Sirius sighed, looking over your shoulder to meet Remus’ knowing eyes. Remus shrugged as if to tell Sirius that whatever he would say he had to mean because you could see right through him.

“Listen, you’re probably right. He’s just busy.”

You nodded, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks. “I’m gonna go to my room.”

“Wait, (Y/N)!”

You dropped the letter at Sirius’s feet as you ran towards your room and shut the door behind you, collapsing on your bed in a ball of sorrows.

Sirius picked up the letter and read it once over, scoffing at his poor excuse of an apology. Remus stared at his friend amusedly, sipping coffee from a mug. Sirius slammed the paper on their table, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t believe he would do that!” Sirius hissed.

“You can’t? Because I most certainly can.”

“She deserves someone who actually cares about her, someone who wants to be with her, someone-”

“Like you, Sirius? She deserves someone like you?”

Sirius froze. Remus raised his brows awaiting Sirius’s response, but nothing came. That was as much an answer as any.

―

You had been crying in your room for the past couple days. Remus would occasionally bring you chocolates, Peter crafted little toys like fortune tellers, and Sirius? Sirius hadn’t shown up so much.

He would check in on you, sure, but he never brought you anything like the other guys. You weren’t necessarily upset about it, but you were confused as to why he seemed to be more distant than the other guys. Not avoiding you, just distant.

Maybe he wasn’t good at comforting people. But you knew that wasn’t true, Sirius had always been with you, always been there for you. What would have caused this change in behavior?

As if he could sense your thinking, there was a hesitant knock at your door.

“Come in,” you called out as you brushed used tissues onto your end table. Sirius entered, waving at you awkwardly.

“Can I sit here?” He pointed towards the blank spot on your bedsheets.

“I cleaned it off just for you.”

“How thoughtful.”

You tugged the blankets up to your chest as Sirius laid beside you. You continued to stare at the ceiling, feeling Sirius’s stare on you. You sighed; nothing good was about to come out of that boy’s mouth.

“Say what you’re gonna say, Sirius,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t come here to just check on me. Just spit it out-”

“Okay! Fine! I will!” You were taken aback by his abrupt change in demeanor. “You need a guy who shows up, love, and Ben is not doing that!”

You sat up and rolled your eyes. “Say what you really feel,” you shot under your breath.

“When are you going to see that you’re stuck dating a wall, (Y/N)? You have to know that you’re too good for him!”

“Oh, but I’m not too good for you? In fact, I must be just perfect for you!”

You weren’t exactly sure where those words came from, they just came. Maybe it was that drunken night he was dared to kiss you and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Maybe it was the way he acted more like a boyfriend than your own boyfriend had. Or maybe it was the way he gave you butterflies when he smiled. Maybe it was the way electricity shot up your spine he rested his hand on the small of your back. Maybe it was the way that you wished you never dated Ben in the first place, but rather dated Sirius but you were too damn stubborn to admit it, even to yourself.

“What are you on about?”

You rolled out of the bed and opened the door, hearing Remus and Peter scatter back to their rooms. “Leave.”

“But, I-”

“Please.” 

You choked back a sob and Sirius then knew that he went too far. He got off of your bed and stumbled towards the door, pausing to look at you.

“I’m sorry-”

“I can’t help that I’m a hopeless romantic, Sirius. I want things to work out, and they will.”

“You’re wasting it on the wrong guy.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, mumbling an excuse as you shut the door in his face.

But, Merlin, was he right.

―

A week later, Sirius sat out by the pond that stood about 100 feet from your flat. He tossed a pebble in between his hands, debating what he could do to make it up to you.

Little did he know you were on your way to join him.

“Hey, Sirius.”

His eyes snapped up to yours and he began to grab his things to leave. “I was just heading out, actually-”

“We really need to talk.”

His heart sank into his stomach as his steps slowed to a stop. You picked up a rock and skipped it across the pond. 

“I broke up with Ben, actually. You were right.”

Sirius tried to fight the feeling of excitement that rose up in his chest. “How did he take it?”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Really well, actually.”

“He didn’t respond yet?”

“No, he hasn’t responded.”

You let out a wry laugh and Sirius joined in, feeling some of the tension flood from his body. You picked up another rock and skipped it across the pond.

“Is it bad that I’m relieved?” you said, interrupting the silence. Sirius’ eyes went wide. You met his stare and he quickly attempted to save face by clearing his throat and picking up another pebble.

“I don’t think so. I think that you did the right thing.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

That sense of dread crept back into the forefront of Sirius’s mind as you picked up yet another rock. 

“You know,” you began as you moved closer to Sirius, “my friends back home would always play this game; there was a little pond by our houses that we’d go to on weekends. We’d talk about whatever, but it was usually boys. So we developed a little tradition: you think of your crush’s name and you toss a rock across the pond. Depending on how many times it skips, your fortune with your crush would be told.”

Sirius eyed you skeptically. “Has it ever worked?”

“Merlin, no,” you chuckled. “But I’d still like to do it.”

He nodded dutifully as the both of you retrieved your rocks. You glanced up at Sirius, thinking of his name as you skipped it across the pond. It skipped two times before sinking, causing you to frown.

“What’s that mean?” Sirius asked.

“It means it’s not up to me anymore.”

Sirius snorted. “And you made these rules when you were a kid? That’s quite depressing.”

“Oh, shut up. Just skip yours.”

Sirius did as he was told, skipping the rock across the pond three times. You gasped before turning to him with a gentle smile.

“Three times? What’s that?”

“It means they fancy you back.”

He was thinking of you, who else would he be thinking of? But he couldn’t tell you that just because of some silly game you made up when you were a kid. There was no way you felt the same― you just got out a relationship!

Sirius smiled back at you, nodding with faint confidence. You nodded back and made your way to leave but Sirius wouldn’t let you.

The moment he had admitted that he wanted to kiss you back in school stirred in his mind like nothing else he knew. He thought about you constantly but he had to hide it. That was, until, that very moment. He couldn’t keep waiting.

“Listen, I can’t just kiss you like this!”

He grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you towards him, connecting your lips. You didn’t even hesitate to clasp your hands behind his neck, his own trailing over your body like a dying man to the prospect of life.

As you pulled away, both of you were panting messes. He rested his forehead against yours, placing a peck against your lips again.

“I meant something like that.”

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N: 

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[waywardnerd67]

Everlasting

Summary: People always said that Hollywood was a whole other world. Soon, (Y/N) was about to find out just how different Hollywood could be. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader Pairing: Jensen x Reader Warnings: AU/Fluff/Angst Word Count: 5564 Prompts: “Loving me is a death sentence.” / “We found each other. That’s all that matters.” A/N #1: This is for @supernatural-jackles​ SPN Bi- Weekly Writing Challenge. Don’t judge me… I’ve been rewatching/rereading Twilight. *ducks from flying objects* A/N #2: Jensen Photo Edit Credited To: @justjensenanddean​

I stopped in front of the Stage One door, looking up at the massive building in front of me. The last month had led up to this very day. I was hired on by Warner Brothers to be the Personal Assistant to Jared Padalecki while he filmed in Vancouver. Even though being a PA was a horrible job, working on the set of my favorite TV show was a dream. I had spent my days leading up to my moving to Vancouver training my inner fangirl to be a normal human being.

“Remember they eat, breath, poop just like any other human.” I whispered to myself on the plane ride from my hometown.

“Girl, please! They are sculpted from marble by the hand of God himself. Just don’t embarrass us in front of them. Make a good impression!” She commanded as if I had any control over that.

Now, standing in front of the main sound stage, my stomach coiled into an anxious knot. Trembling I took a step forward through the door and found myself looking into the Men of Letters Bunker. My inner fangirl squealed with delight urging my body to walk through the set.

“Can I help you?” A tall, dark haired man stood with a camera rig around his waist.

I cleared my throat of the large lump forming within it, “Yeah, my name is (Y/N) and it’s my first day as a PA. The studio told me to go to Stage One when I arrived this morning.”

He smiled a soft chuckle coming from his chest, “Oh you must be Jared’s new wrangler. Here I will show you where to go.”

I followed him to a small office building that had on site office staff and writers housed. He pointed me in the direction of Susan, the executive assistant to Jim Michaels. She was on the phone as she waved me into her office. Standing off to the side was another woman with long, wavy blonde hair. Her fit body was covered by a simple pair of dark jeans, soft chocolate sweater and black knee high boots.

She stuck her hand out towards me, “Hi, I’m Ash. You must be Jared’s new PA.”

Shaking her hand I nodded, “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m so excited you’re here. Now I don’t have to keep my eyes on both of them. I’m Jensen’s PA so you’ll be hanging with me quite a bit.”

Susan ended her call smiling up at the both of us, “Fantastic, you’re here! I will go with you to meet Jared and then you can shadow Ash for this week. How did your move go?”

“As well as could be expected moving from Kansas to Vancouver. My apartment is amazing.” It was the truth. The apartment Warner Brothers provided was twice the size of the one I had in Kansas.

Ash chuckled, “Yeah it’s nice until you have two Texans crashing your place at all hours.”

My eyes must have widened because both ladies began to laugh, “I haven’t told anyone that you are a fan, (Y/N).”

“Oh… yeah…” I felt my cheeks burning and my inner fangirl was doing cartwheels.

“We’ll keep that between us for now. Jensen and Jared will eat you alive if they found out that juicy piece of information.” Ash chuckled as I noticed Susan flinch slightly.

They led me back towards the row of trailers, the first of which, they stopped and knocked on the door. My heart was beating against my chest and my hands began to shake as the door opened. There stood Jared Padalecki in all his 6’4” glory. His chestnut hair damp from a shower, his light gray t-shirt clinging to his sculpted body and the waistband of his boxers peeking out from his low hanging jeans.

I sucked in a shaky breath making Ash chuckled beside me

“Jared this is your new PA, (Y/N). Be nice.” Susan warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

His laughter echoed around them, “I’m always nice. It’s great to meet you (Y/N). Susan and Jim have told me great things about you. Hopefully, we’ll be great friends.” He held out his hand to me.

When I placed mine in his, the heat coming off of it surprised me. The corner of his lips curling upward into a sly smirk. His hazel eyes caught my attention as flecks of emerald and sapphire seemed to shine. He let go of her hand taking a step towards Ash then leaning down to kiss her kiss.

“Now I see why you needed a new PA.” I mentioned as they both smiled at me, “I look forward to working and getting to know you.”

“Me as well. Are you taking her to meet grumpy pants?” Jared looked at Susan who brow was furrowed at the interaction.

Ash groaned, “Oh no, I thought after last night he would be in a better mood.”

Looking from Susan to Ash it seemed everyone was in on the secret except me, “I’m sure we don’t need to bother him before filming. I can always meet him another time.”

“I’ll take her over to meet him. I need to check in with him anyway and it will be a good experience for her.” Ash reached up giving Jared a quick kiss then stepping away from him.

“I think you have this under control, so if you need anything (Y/N) just come to my office. Please check in with me when you’re done with your day.” Susan did not wait for a reply and walked back towards the offices.

Jared chuckled, “You’d think after all this time that she would be used to us. Ugh!” Ash smacked him in the stomach giving him a stern look.

“Come on (Y/N), let’s go meet Jensen.” Ash and I waved goodbye to Jared.

We walked a couple of trailers down and again my heart began to race. I tried taking a few deep breaths to calm down but the moment she knocked on the door all the air in my lungs vanished. The door opened and Jensen Ackles looked down at us.

“Ash, why so early?” His velvet voice sent shivers down my body.

A slight breeze blew past us and his lean body went rigid. His bright olive eyes darkened to a deep forest green. His fists were clenched at his sides and I could see his arms trembling. Jensen narrowed his menacing gaze at me freezing me in place.

“Go. Away. Now.” He seethed going back into his trailer and slamming the door.

Wide eyed and stunned, I turned to Ash who was looking perplexed, “(Y/N) why don’t you go to craft services. Tell them you want Jared’s usually breakfast and bring it back to his trailer. I will meet you there.”

“O-Okay.”

Ash directed me to where craft services were and the wonderful owners started chuckling when I asked for Jared’s usual. I carefully balanced three cups of coffee atop of three styrofoam containers filled to the brim with eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, muffins and a small cup of fruit. Before I could knock, Ash opened the door to let me inside.

“Great job! My first day, I spilled the coffee.” Ash began to open the containers taking some food for herself and one of the coffees.

She handed another one to me with a soft smile, “Where’s Jared?”

“He’ll be back. He’s having a heart to heart with Jensen. For today, I would just stay clear of him.” I nodded sipping my coffee as Jared came back in frowning.

The morning and afternoon flew by as the guys began filming. Taking Ash’s advice, I made sure to stay out of Jensen’s way and even his line of sight. Not that it mattered because he was permanently in a foul mood for the day. Finally, around six o’clock Ash sent me to see Susan saying she could handle the rest of the evening filming.

Making my way to the offices, I had not seen Jensen for a while and as I made my way to Susan’s office I could hear his velvet voice coming from Jim Michaels’ office.

“She has to go.” He hissed, my heart dropping to my stomach.

There was a long sigh, “She comes highly recommended and honestly she is over qualified to even be a PA. She’s smart, talented and in need of getting her foot in the door. You better than anyone know that starts from the lower level. Did she do something or see something?”

Jensen let out a dark chuckle, “She hasn’t seen anything. She seems naive.”

“Then what’s the problem Jensen?”

There was a long pause before he answered, “She exists, that's the problem.”

I had heard enough and walked towards Susan’s door knocking before entering her office. She was packing up for the day when she looked up smiling at me, “How’d it go?”

I put on my best smile, “Jared and Ash are great. Even Misha behaved himself.”

“Jensen?” She inquired looking as if she were trying to see under my mask.

I squared my shoulders back determined to make this work, “Fine. I know my place and will keep my distance. He’s not who I have to worry about, so all that matters is how I keep Jared on time and in line.”

Susan seemed impressed by my answer then pulled out a manila envelope from her briefcase, “Legal didn’t have this drawn up at the time of your hiring. You will need to read this over and sign it by tomorrow morning.”

I took it from her, “Of course. I will have it for you first thing in the morning. Have a good night.”

Walking out of her office, I made sure Jensen was nowhere in sight. Feeling confident he was gone, I made my way towards my car. Looking down towards the ground as I walked past the row of trailers, I did not notice the black SUV behind me. The honk startled me as I tripped over my own feet landing firmly on my ass.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just needed you to move over a little.” I recognized the driver as Jared and Jensen’s bodyguard/driver, Clif.

The back window slid down as I stood up and Jensen’s dark eyes pierced through me. As they began to pull away I swore I heard a low hiss coming from him. I hurried to my car and drove off the lot as fast as I could. It was not until I was on the highway that my fired nerves finally started to calm down. I knew there was nothing special about me but having my favorite actor despise me sapped all hope out of my heart.

Once I was parked in my spot at my apartment building, I was standing at the elevator when the doors slid open revealing once again the gorgeous man who seemingly hated me.

“Are you following me?” He asked, walking directly at me glaring.

I stepped back, “No I-I’m not. The studio is renting an apartment for me here. I h-had no idea you lived here until Ash mentioned it this morning.”

He ran his hand over his sandy, brown hair, “Why did you take this job?”

His question took me by surprise for a moment, deciding honesty was the best policy, “I wanted to be a part of my favorite show and I wanted to learn more about the business. No better way than to start at ground level and work my way up.”

“Favorite show, huh? So, you like monsters?” He chuckled as if he had told himself a joke.

“The monsters are cool, I guess. I’m more invested in the story of the brothers. Plus there’s no romance in Supernatural which is nice.” I watched as his shoulders relaxed briefly.

His eyes glanced around then came back to me, “You don’t like a love story?”

“No. I’ve had my heart broken too many times. I’d rather escape into a world of monsters than deal with matters of the heart.” My own heart betraying me as it thumped against my ribs.

Standing in front of him now, Jensen was truly striking. His sharp facial features, fair skin, plump red lips and muscular body had my own body aching in ways it had not in years. He was beautiful.

“I should go.” He abruptly left walking off towards the street.

As soon as he was out of sight, I sucked in a deep breath willing my body to move towards the elevator. That night my dreams were filled with dark alleyways and forest green eyes.

Over the next several weeks, I fell into a regular routine on set with Jared and Ash. I kept to my word that I avoided Jensen at any cost, but had noticed he was continually coming around me more. At first, I thought it was just because of Jared, but then I noticed he was coming around when he was not needed on set.

My inner fangirl was urging and encouraging me to talk to him. Then my first time meeting Jensen flashed through my mind and kept me far away from him. The last day of filming for the week was a night shoot. Ash and I were constantly running to get coffee for ourselves and the crew to stay warm. Jared every once in a while would pull us both into a bear hug allowing his body heat to warm us up. We were in the middle of a forest as Jared and Misha were filming a scene and I was trying everything in my power not to chatter my teeth.

“You’re going to freeze to death.” His smooth voice brought heat to my cheeks.

I pulled my coat around me tighter, “I-I’ll be al-alright.”

His perfect lips pursed together before he slid his jacket off his shoulders, “Here take this,” He stepped just close enough to drape his large jacket over my shoulders.

“T-Thank you.” I slipped my arms inside surprised that it was slightly chilled still.

We stood there in silence watching as Jared purposely messed with Misha’s takes, “Children.” Jensen muttered as I chuckled.

In a rare moment I witnessed him smile brief and my inner fangirl sighed gracefully falling onto a lounge chair, “You have a great smile. It’s nice to see it.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “Yes well, I’ve recently come to the realization that instead of trying to fight fate I should just embrace her cruel destiny.”

I raised an eyebrow at him confused, but decided it was better I remain silent. What did he mean by fighting fate? What destiny? My heart began to race as hope filled my chest. There was something about the way he had been acting and what he said that gave me hope he was talking about me. The director wrapped for the night and we made the trip back to the studio.

Just as my luck has always been, when I got to my car it would not start. I was one of the last people to leave the studio in the early hours of the morning. Trying to decide if it was worth calling a cab or just sleeping in my car. I was leaning towards the latter of the two.

“Everything okay?”

I yelped turning quickly to see Jensen stopped in his car, “Jesus, you scared me.”

He chuckled before shutting his car off and coming towards mine. He lifted the hood and began checking through everything, “Looks like it could be your starter or alternator. We can have one of the mechanics look at it Monday morning.”

I sighed heavily, “Great… just great.”

“Come on, I can give you a ride back to our building.” His genuine smile dazzled me for a moment as he closed up my car and went to open the door to his car for me, “(Y/N)?”

“Um, yeah that would be great. Thank you.” I got into his car shivering from how cold it was inside.

Jensen turned on the heat and took off down the main street towards the highway. His large hands gripped the steering wheel tightly but the rest of his body seemed relaxed. A wave of fear crashed into a wave of excitement of being in close proximity to him. My inner fangirl and mine’s curiosity was getting the better of us from earlier.

“What did you mean by embracing fate’s cruel destiny?” I thought maybe he had not heard me as a silent tension filled the air between us.

“Did you sign the NDA they drew up for you?” Answering a question with a question was a pet peeve of mine but I let it slide.

I turned slightly in my seat, “Yes, though I don’t understand why I needed to sign one. It was clearly stated in my new hire paperwork not to speak of any upcoming episodes or scripts.”

Again, his soft laughter had an edge to it, “The NDA has nothing to do with the show or network. It is something our managers and agents have in place to protect us.”

“You mean protect you and Jared? Why would you two need protecting?” Suddenly images of Jensen starring in his very own version of Fifty Shades of Grey filled my mind and my cheeks burned.

We were approaching our exit and I knew my time would be up with him, but I did not want to leave. He remained silent until he parked in his space within our garage. He turned towards me, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped forward. If I had not known any better, I would have thought he was upset or in pain.

“Jensen, anything you or Jared would tell me or I would see would strictly be between us. I don’t need a NDA to keep private matters private. I have more respect for both of you that I would never want anyone running your names through the mud of public opinion.”

I reached out my fingers briefly brushing against the back of his smooth skin. A small gasp escaped my lips from how cold he was even with his heater on. He pulled his hand away from me quickly getting out of his car. I followed him towards the main street where he finally stopped.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He held up his hand to silence me.

Turning back towards me, his eyes were dark once again but not threatening unlike when we first met. No, there was something else. Something I did not recognize, but it made my heart race with anticipation.

“Tomorrow, I promise to explain everything. I will come by to get you around ten o’clock.” Jensen hesitantly brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek and instinctively I gravitated towards his embrace.

He quickly took off down the sidewalk leaving me with a million questions and yearning I had never felt before. In a daze I made up to my apartment and into my bed. Sleep did not come easy and when it did my dreams were vivid, sensual.

True to his word, there was a knock on my door at ten o’clock on the dot. I opened my door inviting him in as I finished getting ready.

“I’m sorry about my place being a mess.” I mumbled going back into my room to grab my coat.

I heard me laugh, “Quite alright, I mean Jared’s place is a pigsty.”

When I walked back out, I watched as his bright olive eyes traveled the length of my body. I nervously fidget with the strings on my coat as a slow smirk spread across his face. Jensen was dressed in a simple black hoodie, dark denim pants and black boots. A pair of dark Ray Bans hanging from the collar of his hoodie. Even dressed down he looked like a runway model.

We walked to the elevator, an empty car arriving, and as we stepped in the tension between us was nearly unbearable. I shifted from one foot to the next avoiding his intense gaze. With lightning speed, Jensen had me caged against the wall and his lips pressed against my throat.

“Jen-Jensen…” I sighed breathlessly as he dragged his nose up my neck to under my ear.

“Dammit, I promised myself I would not lose control around you, but…” he paused taking a deep breath in making my legs tremble, “you smell divine.”

As quickly as the moment had happened it was over as the elevator doors opened. Jensen was on the other side of the car looking unphased by what had happened. Whereas I was trying to remember how to breath and walk at the same time. His low chuckle and smug smirk made me smack his rock hard bicep.

“Ow.” I muttered making him laugh even harder. The pain was worth it to hear his musical laughter.

Instead of going to the garage, Jensen led me towards the sidewalk. He slid his dark sunglasses over his beautiful eyes and pulled his hood up over his head. I figured this was so no one would recognize him from the show. We walked side by side towards a nearby park. Our hands would brush against one another until finally he took mine in his pulling me closer to him. Leading me to a spot just off the Vancouver Harbor.

The sun was shining bright warming my skin then a cold breeze from the water would make me shiver. We sat at a clear spot sitting silently next to one another staring out over the water. Jensen gently pulled me into his side and draped his arm around my shoulder.

“Well, this is much better than when I first met you.” I whispered leaning my head on his shoulder.

I felt him press his lips and nose against the top of my head inhaling deeply, “Yes, well when we first met I wasn’t expecting you to be so… appealing.”

I sat up looking at him, “What does that mean? I feel like you are talking around me and I don’t like that.”

He sighed, pulling his hood down further as the sun shined brightly over us, “It’s only because the truth would send you running far, far away.”

“I told you, anything you tell me is between us. You have my word and a signed NDA for a safety net.” My inner fangirl and I were desperate to know what secret he was holding back. She was practically jumping on the lounger within my mind.

“When Eric Kripke came up with the idea of Supernatural, he had no idea how close to being right he was.” He pulled his sunglasses down his piercing out looking over them.

I swallowed the small lump lodge in my throat, “So you’re saying that supernatural creatures are real or that hunters are real?”

He smiled, pushing his glasses back up, “I guess hunters could be real, but then humans would have to acknowledge the fact that monsters were real.”

“Monsters… like you?” Suddenly a lot of his behaviors were making sense even if my mind could not wrap around the fact that monsters were real.

He nodded, “Does that scare you?”

“No.” My answer came quick and firm. I was not afraid of him. I knew he would never harm me. Somewhere deep within my heart and soul, I knew I was right where I belonged.

“You should be. I’m a dangerous creature even more so than Jared.” He looked out towards the water, “Mainly because Jared is just a big dog. All cute and cuddly as Ash would say.”

“Jared is a… werewolf?” I could not quite believe the words coming from my mouth, but his nod answered my question, “Then you are…”

Jensen faced me baring his teeth as his fangs grew slightly longer than the rest. I sucked in a breath as he closed his mouth, “Now you’re afraid.”

“No. More mesmerized than anything. You’re… you’re a vampire.” The awe in my voice could not be helped. I spent most of my life reading grand tales of mythical creatures and humans falling in love with them. Now, I was in the middle of my own fairytale.

He scoffed, “Mesmerized? I’m an undead murderer and you're in awe of it.” He looked away in disgust.

“I’m in awe of you. You’re obviously drawn to my scent and yet here you sit next to me. You could have ended me at any time these last few weeks but you haven’t. Hell, in the elevator that could have been it, but all you did was… kiss my neck. I’m in awe of your strength and will power.”

Jensen's expression softened and he pulled me back into his side, “It’s difficult being around you. When I first met you, I had never wanted a human so much in my life. First it was my primal need, but now…”

“Now what?” My heart skipped a beat as hope filled my chest.

“Now, I have this overwhelming need to protect you and be by your side always.” His jaw clenched as he spoke the words.

I reached up brushing my hand against his cheek, “Why is that so hard for you to say?”

He leaned into my touch, “Loving me is a death sentence. The thought of losing you is insufferable.”

Jensen’s forehead pressed against mine as I whispered, “We found each other. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” He chuckled, easily lifting me onto his lap and wrapping his arms around me.

“I’ve been called worse. Tell me more about your life.”

For the next several hours, Jensen told me all about his life from his rebirth in 1920 to how he and Jared became best friends. I hung on every word of every story he told and it was not until my stomach began to growl from hunger that he finally stopped.

“You should eat.” He easily picked me up as he stood and set my feet on the ground.

I looked away from him, the anxiety building in my chest knowing we would have to part ways soon. He laced his fingers through mine and led me back towards the main sidewalk. When we arrived at our building, I was having a difficult time keeping the tears that threatened to fall back. Once again, as we stepped into the elevator, the air tightened around us.

“What is it about elevators?” he muttered making me laugh as the very thought had gone through my head.

When we went past my floor, I looked over and saw a smile on his face. We stopped at the very top floor both sighing as we exited the elevator. He pulled out his keys and opened the door for apartment 1520.

“I thought it was only fair if you saw my place as well.” Jensen held the door open for me as I walked in.

The layout was open and bright with one wall being all windows. His furniture was dark gray with steel blue and navy accent pillows. He had a big flat screen TV with a few game consoles. What caught her by surprise was the wall of records and record player he had. I turned back around to see him anxiously watching me.

“Not what I expected from a vampire.” I walked towards his flawless kitchen and looked untouched which I guess was to be expected.

“Were you expecting a coffin and velvet?” His smile was infectious as I nodded.

Taking off my coat, I sat down on his couch as he walked off towards his bedroom. Jensen came back in with his tablet and a blanket. He placed the blanket over my and sat next to me.

“Order whatever you would like for dinner. Don’t worry about paying for it because I insist.” He chuckled as I rolled my eyes.

Deciding to order from my favorite pizza place I handed him the tablet to put his payment information in, “What do you eat?”

“Finally! The question I have been waiting for all day.” He exclaimed, “Are you sure you want to know?”

I nodded, “If I’m diving head first into oblivion then I want to know everything.”

“Brave woman. I still drink blood, but that which is donated. There are certain organizations within the acting community that are set up for actors such as myself. We go to grab our supply of ‘food’ and then we store it in our homes.” He pointed back towards the refrigerator, “All of it is from blood drives once the hospital receives its share then we buy the remainder.”

It was better than him stealing blood like Benny in Supernatural or drinking animal blood like Edward in Twilight, “Oh okay then. At least I won’t be surprised if I open the fridge now.”

There was a sad undertone in his laugh, but I chose to ignore it, “What about Jared and Ash?”

“Ash is human, but she seemingly blossomed at the end of last season. Jared was immediately drawn to her and they spent most of the summer at his cabin near Red Rock Point, Montana.” Jensen bit his lip smirking.

“Why?” I knew there was more to what he was saying but he seemed almost embarrassed to speak of it.

He sighed pulling me closer to him, “If you had asked me that question a month ago I would have given you a snarky answer about not being able to control his inner animal, but now… now I know better.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, “Meaning…”

“Every few months, Jared would go into what he calls a rut. His need to procreate becomes overwhelming and he has to be off on his own as a wolf to deal with it. Now, he found his mate and one weekend a month they will go off to his cabin to… you know…”

My inner fangirl was begging on her knees for Jensen to say the words out loud but I just nodded, “I get it. Why is it now that you know better than before?”

I looked up into his shining eyes captivated as he leaned closer to me, “Because now I know exactly how Jared felt when he found Ash.”

His perfect full lips were inching closer to mine. My tongue darted out over them just before his were going to touch them then his door intercom buzzed. A small growl escaped his lips as he quickly got up buzzing the delivery man in. I found myself trying to take deep breaths to collect myself as my inner fangirl was hyperventilating.

“Dinner is served.” He said placing the box down on the table.

“I’m not hungry right now.” I said as he sat back down next to me.

He laughed, “Eat before the alien in your stomach pops out and eats the pizza for you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him before lifting the box open and grabbing a slice. Settling back into his side, he turned on his Netflix account. His fingertips trailing down my arm as I took a bite.

As I was taking a second bite he leaned in whispering into my ear, “There will be plenty of time to test my will power later.”

I shivered, truly no longer hungry for food. I placed the piece of pizza back in the back turning towards him, “What would happen if I took initiative and kissed you?”

He turned into a stone statue as he stared at me, “That would be a very dangerous thing to do.” He spoke slowly with a hint of challenge in his tone.

My inner fangirl was cheering me on as I pushed the blanket onto the floor and swung my leg over his lap sitting on his thighs. His ice cold hands gripped my hips as I leaned down my lips hovering his. There was a brief moment where time stood still then it was as if a rubber band snapped. His lips crashed against me and his arms wrapped around my waist holding me against him. He groaned as if in pain and I pulled away from him.

“Since I’m breaking all my rules and going to hell…” He whispered and in a flash we were both tumbling onto his bed.

That night was the best one of my life. Jensen may be a primal killer but with me he was nothing short of a gentle lover. I knew from that moment, I would do anything to remain at his side forever. Just like every cliche movie or book trope where the meek, naive woman falls in love with a monster that has a heart gold. I found myself in their exact shoes desiring an everlasting love affair with a vampire.

On Monday, when Jensen and I arrived at the studio, Jared and Ash were waiting by his trailer. No words were spoken between them but by the smiles on their faces I could tell they knew what was going on between Jensen and I.

“You owe me twenty bucks Padalecki.” I heard Ash as Jared grumbled.

Jensen and I laughed as we walked to the studio building to meet with the executive producers and legal team concerning our newly starting relationship together.  

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[sunsetcurve]

I would like to hear the why you hate dr essay, if you don’t mind

buckle up everyone. i’ve been enabled and now you’re never going to get me to shut up.

warning: this is about to get super long, because i have a lot of thoughts about this, and this might be my only opportunity to just...go off. so here’s my whole ass thesis on why i hate dr. colosso. keep in mind that this is the product of several rewatches and a lot of character analysis on my part, because i tend to do that frequently. also, i’d like to start this off with a quick disclaimer: i do think colosso’s role in the show is very important; if you asked me if i’d get rid of him completely i’d say no, but there are definitely things i would’ve done differently with his portrayal, and we’ll get into that later.

when i watched the show for the first time i really didn’t like colosso, but i kind of chalked that up to the fact that he was annoying and left it there. there’s always been something about him that rubs me the wrong way, though. i’ve been doing a rewatch recently (as you’ve probably gathered from my posts) and that combined with talking to @ciara-knightly about it for a while helped me understand why i find his presence to be genuinely problematic.

i’m gonna start with the most obvious thing: he’s a bad influence on max. they of course directly address this in the show, but what i feel like is important to understand here is that colosso’s influence isn’t like “oh he’s max’s troublemaker friends who eggs him on to do bad stuff sometimes haha”. colosso, despite being a bunny, is still actually a supervillain max’s father’s age, and he uses that to manipulate max a lot. talking about it with shona made me realize that especially early on, max really didn’t have anyone else in his life who was willing to listen to his ideas or encourage his skills, specifically inventing gadgets. in canon his parents almost never praise his work, even when he’s not using it for evil (see: phoebe’s a clone now), but colosso is shown to be someone who both helps him with his experiments and keeps him going at them. i’m dipping into character analysis instead of straight up canon here, but it’s pretty clear to understand the impact this would’ve had on max—he’s a kid who wants approval and colosso gives it to him, and in turn max listens to colosso’s ideas and often does what he tells him. i’m not saying that max is completely at colosso’s will, of course—max is very self-driven and that wouldn’t be giving him enough credit, but at the same time, we know very little about the actual process of max’s decision to be a villain, and i really don’t doubt that colosso had a lot to do with it. in the show we see colosso frequently urging max to leave his family behind, and there’s an arc where we literally see max starting to become a better person because of his friends and colosso telling him to ditch them (see: exit stage theft). we also see colosso preying on max’s insecurities, specifically his comparison of himself to phoebe, in order to further his descent into villainy.

the reason i prefaced this by saying colosso’s role in the show is important is because i genuinely think max’s villain arc would’ve been closed much sooner without colosso’s influence. colosso was a huge factor in not only exposing max to the world of supervillains but also in deepening the rift between him and his parents. so everything i said above does actually make sense, writing-wise, within the context of the show—colosso is a supervillain, he’s supposed to be manipulating max, and he is the main factor driving the progression of max’s villain arc.

but now i’m going to get into why i think that from a writer’s standpoint, his role in the show is problematic, especially post-season three.

a lot of it has to do with the fact that none of what i said above is ever really addressed in canon. there are throwaway lines about how colosso was a bad influence on max but there was no recognition of the fact that without colosso, max likely wouldn’t have strayed as far into villainy as he did. more importantly, though, the main issue i had with the writing of max’s arc was that there was no discussion about why he felt so strongly about colosso, and what colosso’s presence said about his relationship with his parents.

like i said before, max needed someone in his life who was willing to give him the approval and validation that he was looking for. in the show his redemption arc comes down to his relationship with his family, but at no point in the show did he actually want to harm his family, so i think there’s a bigger picture here—i honestly think that a big part of it was that at that point in his life, max had sort of grown past the need to be told his worth; he clearly still had his insecurities, but having friends, a girlfriend, and a life outside of his family (where he felt unseen) gave him a more concrete role. the point here that i’m trying to make is that max’s arc essentially came down to his own perception of his self-worth. the reason colosso was able to influence him so strongly was because as i said before, he was the one who gave max the validation he wanted. and this is why i felt like max’s arc was really one-sided—his parents’ lack of attention towards him and pretty blatant favoritism towards phoebe was clearly a huge factor in max’s arc that was never brought up again. the reason that i say i would’ve changed colosso’s role after max’s redemption is because until that point, colosso had been sort of a stand-in for max’s parents in his life, but one who took advantage of him. i wish the show had gone towards a more well-rounded reconciliation between max and his parents, and an acknowledgement of their mistakes and the fact that max was able to be so strongly influenced by colosso because he didn’t feel like he had anyone else. instead, they pretty much glossed over and trivialized max’s reasons for wanting to be a villain in the first place, and the dynamics within the family didn’t actually change—his parents still showed pretty clear favoritism towards phoebe (see: thundermans: banished!) and max still went to colosso for approval and advice. i think the only really central thing that changed was max’s relationship with phoebe, and that was incredibly important for max’s development and i liked the way it played out, but i still would’ve had more conversation between max and his parents about how things went down.

(also, i think hank and barb’s decision to let their supervillain-turned-bunny bunk with their teenage—possibly preteen at the time—son is a little bit sketchy. that’s all i’m saying.)

and now comes the counterpoint that max and colosso are best friends. which—that statement in and of itself has always rubbed me the wrong way. i’m not here to argue whether or not colosso loves max; he very clearly does (see: a hero is born, the thunder games), but it’s a selfish and possessive sort of caring. colosso doesn’t actually care about what’s best for max, or whether or not he’s happy. he hated allison, he didn’t want max to reconcile with his family, he tried to separate max from his friends. he essentially just wants max for himself, and that sort of dynamic is incredibly toxic no matter how close they are. there’s also something to be said about the age difference between them: max is a teenager and colosso is at least his father’s age, and this is not me trying to dismiss the relationship that kids can have with important adults in their life—i, personally, have had really strong relationships with teachers and mentors to the point where i consider them good friends—but the issue is that with those sort of relationships there is always a sense of the older person being like a mentor and influencing the younger one, and while that can often be a really good thing it can also, like in colosso’s case, be a bad thing.

and going off of the age difference, let’s get into the final and most prominent reason that i hate colosso. the show pretty frequently makes jokes that mirror romantic partnerships when it comes to max and colosso. i can cite so many instances when colosso calls max pet names or the situation is modeled after a marriage or colosso makes sort of flirty advancements towards max, but it’s fine because it’s all for humor, right? and colosso���s a bunny, right? except he’s actually a fifty-something year old man, and max is a teenager. and while those jokes have always made me superbly uncomfortable, my general rule of thumb during my rewatch has been “if colosso was human right now, how creepy would this be?” and the answer is almost always very. very very creepy. i don’t think i need to go into too much analysis on why i hate this so much but colosso’s “flirting” with max is just genuinely disgusting and is the main reason i can’t stand him as a character.

this is veering into 1.6k territory so i’m going to try and wrap it up here. the tl;dr for this is that while i think colosso played a pretty pivotal role in the show, i wish in the end part of max’s arc would’ve been about breaking away from him instead of remaining in a very toxic dynamic with a supervillain his father’s age. i think colosso could’ve eventually been redeemed if it came down to it, but overall i wish there had been more acknowledgement of exactly how colosso affected max before they became “friends” again, and especially hank and barb’s failures when it came to max feeling unheard. if you actually read this all the way through i’m applauding you, and thank you for asking to see this essay because i love doing character/writing analysis stuff like this. until next time!

[imaginationintowords]

Human

Chapter 14

Stiles Stilinski x OC!Reader Original Character story

word count: 4908

Plot: A Teen Wolf fanfiction based on an original character, Sophia Tuteur.Sophia Tuteur is Scott McCall’s cousin. They are both the same age, and she has been living with Scott and his mom since she was eight years old, since her parents are always on the road due to work. This is Sophia’s point of view to everything going on.

[a/n: IT’S FINALLY BACK!!!!!!!! Sorry it took so long for me to update this story! Honestly, no excuses, I just sort of lost inspiration once Teen Wolf ended. Let’s all agree there were certain aspects in the last season that just didn’t work/make sense. But I started rewatching Teen Wolf from the beginning again, and boy did I miss writing this story! So hopefully it was worth the wait! And please let me know if you want to be untagged!]

"So wait, what did Derek want last night?" Scott asked as he, Stiles, and I walked through the school's halls towards the boys' locker room.

"The very same reason why Peter came to see me the night of the dance," I tell them, "to join his pack."

"What pack? It's just him," Stiles says confused, I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Why does he need you?" Scott asked.

"With a guardian in your pack it's sort of like an immunity," I tell him.

"Immunity for what?" Stiles asked.

"From what," I correct him, "Guardians are basically mediators between the shape shifters and hunters. When a guardian is in a pack it gives the pack a sort of immunity. Hunters are not allowed to attack without consulting the guardian. It's in the code."

"Woah. So, you're a peace maker," Stiles says in awe.

"Essentially," I smile, "Derek knows that if I'm in his pack the Argents can't try anything."

"So what did you tell him?" Scott asked.

"Told him that I would only join if you agreed to as well," I tell him.

"Well that's not going to happen," Stiles scoffs.

Scott and I share a look, I raised my eyebrows at him, silently asking him the question.

"Right?" Stiles asked with a slight panic in his voice.

"Right," Scott says, "I'm not joining his pack."

"Then neither am I," I nod my head agreeing.

"Now that we're all on the same page," Stiles says stopping just outside the boys' locker room, "The full moon tonight."

"Don't worry, I have it under control now," he tells us.

Stiles and I look at each other then back at Scott, sharing the same skeptical look.

"I'm serious," he says, "It's not like the last full moon. I don't feel the same."

"This is all you," I pat Stiles on the shoulder, "I'm heading to the library for my free period."

I walk away from them heading towards my destination. As I rounded the corner, another body came rushing into mine.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Sophia," I look up at Isaac, who looks like a nervous wreck.

"No worries," I smile at him.

"Sorry, I thought I was going to be late for practice," he says lifting his lacrosse stick.

"Well, you better hurry, don't want to hear Coach yelling," I step to the side.

"Thanks," he said quickly rushing away.

As I continued walking down the hall, I noticed a lot of whispering going on between the other students. As I turned the corner I see why.

Allison and Lydia are stopped at Lydia's locker. Allison spots me while Lydia was grabbing things from her locker. She waves, but before I could wave back, I felt a buzz in my back pocket.

I pulled out my phone to see a text from Stiles,

Scott senses another werewolf in the locker room! Get to the field NOW!

Another werewolf in the school

I quickly turned back around and made my way to the lacrosse field.

[Third Person POV]

"Who are you waving at?" Lydia asked Allison, seeing no one down the hall.

"Oh, uh Sophia," Allison tells her, "but guess she had somewhere to be."

"Who?" Lydia asked confused.

"Sophia. Scott's cousin," Allison says, "she helped saved your life the night of the dance."

"Oh," Lydia uncomfortably shifts, "The one sleeping with Derek Hale."

"What? No, she's not," Allison says.

"That's what they all say," Lydia says closing her locker door and walking down the hall, Allison following behind.

[Sophia's POV]

I quickly walked over to Scott who was sitting at the players' bench.

"Do you know who it might be?" I asked him.

"No, I have no idea," he says as we both look around the field. Stiles comes running over to us.

"I told Coach you're switching with Danny for the day," Stiles tells him.

"But I hate playing goalie," Scott tells him not understanding what Stiles is telling him.

"Remember when I said I had an idea?" Stiles asks him again, Scott nodded his head yes, "This is the idea."

"Oh," Scott said.

"There you go," Stiles encouraged, smiling over at me.

"What's the idea?" Scott asked still not getting it, causing me to roll my eyes.

"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes," Stiles exasperatedly said, rolling his eyes.

I shook my head at them and walked away to go find a spot on the bleachers. I sat down on the first row, getting myself somewhat comfortable to seeing how this will all play out.

I couldn't believe what I am watching. Scott is tackling all of the players and smelling them. I shook my head and put my head in my arms.

"He can't be serious," I whisper to myself in disbelief over how ridiculous this all is.

I hear a whistle and look over towards Stiles, who is pointing at Isaac and mouthing out, "It's him."

Shit.

I glance at Isaac who looks like he's trying to control his anger. Keyword, trying.

Jackson walks over and sits on the player's bench, opting out of getting slammed by Scott.

I nervously glance between Scott and Isaac as they take their places. They both take off at the sound of Coach's whistle, colliding with one another very dramatically.

Werewolves.

Coach blew his whistle obviously mad at Scott again.

I look to the right and notice Sheriff Stilinski and two deputies walking on the field. Stilinski ignores Stiles as he tries to ask his dad something and heads straight to Coach.

"Everyone take a break," Coach yells, "Lahey come here please."

Isaac walks slowly over to the deputies and Coach. I quickly make my way over towards the boys.

"What are they saying?" I ask Scott.

"His father's dead," he says, "They think he was murdered.

We watch as they slowly take Isaac away.

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles asks."I'm not sure. Why?"

"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for twenty-four hours-"

"Like overnight?" Scott interrupts.

"During the full moon," Stiles nods.

"That's not good," I say, looking at Scott.

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?" Scott asks Stiles.

"People? Good," Stiles grimly says, "Werewolves? Probably not that good."

"Remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

"Yeah, why?" I ask.

"He does," he says pointing his chin towards Isaac.

We all turn our attention back towards Isaac who is being escorted towards the locker room.

Coach dismisses the team after ten minutes, probably to give Isaac some time to gather his things.

As we make our way to Mr.Harris's chemistry class, we quietly talk about the Isaac situation.

"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" Stiles asks, the question more pointed towards me.

"I don't know," I lift my hands up in defense, "He didn't even tell me last night that he turned someone. Let alone another teenager."

"Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you, it can kill you," Scott says, "And maybe teenagers have a better chance at survival."

"Not entirely," I mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked me.

"Nothing," I quickly say.

"What aren't you telling us?" Stiles asks, stopping us before we walked into the class.

"Nothing that's for me to tell," I say, shifting uncomfortably.

I quickly made a dash inside the class before they could question me any longer. I took my normal seat in front of the boys and took my things out, letting them know that I'm done having this conversation while we're in class.

"Danny, where's Jackson?" I hear Stiles ask Danny, who sits behind them.

"In the principal's office, talking to your dad," he tells him.

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac," he condescendingly says.

"Witness," I hear Scott whisper.

"We gotta get to the principal's office," Stiles tells him.

I shake my head and roll my eyes at them. These two are literally begging to get in trouble now.

"How?" Scott asks him.

"Everyone please turn to page seventy-three," Mr. Harris asks with his back turned towards the class, while he writes on the chalkboard.

All of a sudden a paper ball goes flying passed me hitting Harris right in the back of his head. I sat there shocked.

"Who in the hell did that?" He abruptly turned around.

I place my head in my hands, shaking my head as Harris tells the boys to go to the principal's office.

I didn't even bother to watch as the boys walked out of the class.

After a few minutes I realized I never went to the bathroom during my free period, and I really had to go now. I hesitantly raised my hand, hoping Harris won't give me a hard time.

"Ms. Tuteur, do you need to go to the principal's office as well?" He smugly asked.

"No, actually can I go to the restroom?" I asked.

"No," he rudely said about to turn around.

"Sir, you may want to reconsider your answer," I tell him, holding up a tampon, causing some of the class to snicker.

"Uh-okay go," he tripped over his words, face beet red as he quickly wrote a hall pass.

"Thank-you," I smiled, grabbing the hall pass on my way out.

I make my way to the restroom and forgot that I would have to walk pass the principal's office on my way.

"Sophia, come to join us?" Stiles asks with a smile on his face.

"Nope, just going to the restroom," I tell him, and for some reason I decide to stop.

"Harris let you out?" Scott asks surprise that I was let out.

I hold up a tampon. Stiles eyes went wide.

"You're not on your period," Scott announces, taking Stiles and I by surprise.

"How the hell do you know that?" I ask him, unsure how I should feel.

"Well, one, we've been living together for years," he says in a matter of fact tone,"and two, werewolf."

"Going to pretend that this conversation never happened," I tell him.

"Do you want to know what's going on?" Stiles says.

I thought that over for a second, "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me anyways."

Before they could say anything the door to the office opens, and Sheriff Stilinski and a deputy walk out. He looks over at the three of us completely annoyed.

"Why am I not surprised to see you three out here," he says, we all shrug in response like children who just got caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Why are you three here?" he sternly asks.

I hold up my tampon and hall pass, smiling innocently. He quickly clears his throat embarrassed.

"Dad, what's going on with Isaac?" Stiles asks.

"Do you guys know Isaac?" he ignores Stiles' question.

"Not much, apart from lacrosse," Scott tells him.

"Kind of," I quietly say, suddenly finding my feet more interesting.

"Kind of?" Stilinski repeats.

"Well, we're friends," I say looking up and fidgeting with my fingers, "He also kind of asked me out to the dance."

"What? Why?" Stiles abruptly asks, standing up.

"You know guys do actually like me, right?" I snap at him, completely offended by his reaction.

He slinks back down in his seat, a bit ashamed at himself.

Stilinski clears his throat, "When was the last time you spoke to Isaac?"

"We ran into each other today on our way to free period."

"But other than that, I haven't spoken to him since a couple of nights ago," I say, "I offered to help with our chemistry. Homework. Our chemistry homework."

I tripped over the last of my words, feeling my face heat up a bit and avoiding eye contact.

Stilinski remained quiet, looking between the three of us trying to figure out if what we're telling him is the truth.

"May I leave now?" I ask holding up the tampon.

"Oh, yeah. Go ahead," he clears his throat.

I hurried away from all of them. Thankful that that was done. Guess that's what I get for lying about my period.

As I walk out of class I find Stiles waiting there for me. I go to ignore him until he says something that catches my attention.

"Gerard Argent is our new principal," he tells me.

"What? How?" I ask.

"No clue," he says, as we walk towards our lockers.

We walk in silence.

"So I got detention," he says.

"Good, that's what you get," I remark, stopping at my locker to swap out the things I would need for homework tonight.

"Soph," he quietly says watching me, "Sophia, can you please look at me?"

I remain silent, handing him a book as I place another one in my locker.

"Sophia," he says grabbing my hand with his empty one. I look at our connected hands.

"I know you're mad about what I said," he says, "but I didn't mean it like that. It just took me by surprise, that's all."

"What, that a boy can like me?" I ask, hurt by his lackluster apology.

"No, of course not," he defends, "Was just surprised to hear that Isaac had asked you to the dance. That's all. Trust me, I know that guys like you."

"If this is your way of apologizing, it's crap."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "I didn't mean it that way. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Okay."

"That's it?"

"I accept your apology," I tell him, "but I have to go tutor some freshman and I can't be late."

"Sophia, I really am sorry," he says before bending down and placing a soft kiss to my lips.

"Apology accepted," I smile at him.

"I better hurry, don't want to be late for detention with Harris," he says before kissing my cheek and running off.

As I was cleaning up my spot at the library, my phone buzzed on the table. Seeing that I was the only one here, aside from the librarian I didn't see any issue with answering.

I looked down to see Allison's name flash across my screen.

"Hey Allison, what's up?" I answered, balancing my phone with my shoulder as I continued to pack.

"So we might have a problem," she says.

"What do you mean?" I asked, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and walking out of the library.

"My dad and grandpa were asking me all these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter, and then they sent this guy out-"

"What guy?" I spot Stiles walking in the parking lot towards his car, and yell out his name.

As I reach him I put my phone on speaker.

"He was dressed as a Sheriff's deputy," she says, "They're sending him to go get Isaac."

I look at Stiles with a worried look on my face.

"He was also carrying this box with something etched onto it," she says, we can hear shuffling on the other side as she searched for something, "Hold on, it's in one of these books. I'm sending you a picture."

"Did you get it?" She asked, as we wait for the picture to finish loading.

"Shit," I whispered once it loaded.

"What?" Allison asked, "Do you know what it is?"

"Yeah, it's wolfsbane," Stiles says, looking over at me just as worried as I am.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means they're going to kill him," Stiles says looking at me.

"I can slow him down," Allison blurts out.

"Allison are you sure?" I ask her.

"Yes, he just left. I can catch up to him."

"Okay. Call us immediately after and if anything goes wrong," I tell her before hanging up.

Stiles and I quickly get into Roscoe, as he starts up the car I start dialing a number.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"Calling Scott and Derek," I tell him.

On our way to meet Derek, my phone begins to ring. I answer it pressing the speaker button.

"Hey, did you slow him down?" Stiles asks.

"You could say that."

"Okay, well we're heading to the station," I tell her.

"Where's Scott?" she asks.

"Isaac's."

"Does he have a plan?"

"Yeah, but not a very good one," Stiles says, "and unfortunately we don't really have time to come up with anything better."

We hang up the phone as we're approaching Derek's car a block away from the station. I climb into the back as Derek enters the car.

"Are you sure its wolfsbane?" he asks as Stiles continued down the street.

"Yeah," I say showing him the picture.

"Okay. Now, the keys to every cell are in a password-protected lock-box in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk," Stiles explains to Derek.

"I'll distract her," Derek says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You? You're not going in there," Stiles says placing his hand on Derek, causing Derek to glare at him.

"I'm taking my hand off," he says slowly pulling his hand away.

"I was exonerated."

"You're still a person of interest," Stiles debates.

"An innocent person."

"An-" Stiles says in disbelief, "You? Yeah right!"

"Stiles, cut it out," I sternly tell him.

"Okay, fine. What's your plan?" Stiles says turning towards Derek, arms crossed across his chest.

"To distract her," Derek slowly says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"How? By punching her in the face?" Stiles remarked, getting on both mine and Derek's nerves.

"Stiles, just let him do it," I roll my eyes, "We need to hurry."

"I just want to know what he's going to do."

"I'm going to talk to her," Derek says.

"Okay. All right. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?" Stiles skeptically asks.

Derek remains quiet just starting at Stiles blankly.

"Dead silence. That should work beautifully," Stiles sarcastically says, "Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face," Derek snidely says.

"Do it," I say in slightly serious yet playful tone.

Stiles whipped his head towards me completely offended. Derek starts climbing out of the passenger seat.

"Hurts doesn't it," I remark winking at him, then following Derek out.

Derek walks into the station with Stiles and I following close behind. While Derek approaches the empty front desk, Stiles and I watch from behind the lobby doors.

"Good evening, how can I help," the deputy trails off once looking up at Derek's face, "you."

"Hi," Derek smiles at her.

"Hi."

Stiles rolls his eyes, annoyed at Derek's plan actually working. I tried containing in my laughter at the scene in front of me. I don't think I've seen Derek smile like that before, or even flirt.

"Um, I had a question," Derek flirts, stumbling over his words a bit, "Um, sorry, I'm a little-a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone-"

"Like me?" she interrupts.

I tap Stiles on the shoulder, pointing for him to walk by while the deputy was distracted. Stiles dramatically looked around before dashing towards the door. I walked normally by, and giving Derek a thumbs up once I was through the door.

"Oh, I was gonna say so incredibly beautiful," he sheepishly says, "but, yeah... I guess that'd be the same thing."

"Next time you might want to have a little more confidence in Derek," I playfully tell Stiles as we make our way to his dad's office to get the key.

"I could've done that," he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, sure you could've," I sarcastically say.

We quickly go into the office and Stiles finds the lock box while I stay on lookout. He puts the code in and opens the box to reveal that it's empty.

"It's empty," he says turning to me.

From the distance we can hear the keys jingling.

"He beat us," I tell him.

"I'll go find the key, you go get Derek," he tells me.

As we go into the hallway we run into a deputy.

"Oh I was just looking for-" Stiles says, but I grabbed his arm and nudged my head to the arrow in the man's leg.

This is the deputy the Argents sent to kill Isaac. Stiles and I looked at each other wide eyed.

The deputy looked between us, he went to reach for me but Stiles quickly got in front of me. The man settled on grabbing Stiles, and covering his mouth while holding the syringe of wolfsbane to his throat.

"Not a single scream," he threatened as he dragged Stiles away.

I looked to my right and noticed the fire alarm at arm's length. I quickly pulled the lever, and ran after the man and Stiles.

I stopped at the door way and noticed that Isaac's cell was opened and empty. The man let go of Stiles, just as confused as we were to see Isaac wasn't where he was supposed to be.

All of a sudden a werewolf version of Isaac leaped out at the deputy and grabbed him by the throat. They began to fight.

"Stiles, get behind the desk," I tell him grabbing his arm to take cover.

We watch as Isaac knocked out the deputy, as Derek made his way in stepping on the wolfsbane syringe.

Isaac is breathing heavily, before he looks over at where Stiles and I are hiding. Stiles holds onto me tight as Isaac growls at us and starts to make his way towards us. Before he could take a step towards us, Derek growls at him, which causes Isaac to cower to the floor and whimper.

Isaac looks up from his arms returning back to his normal self.

"How did you do that?" Stiles breathlessly asks.

"I'm the alpha," Derek smirks.

"We gotta go before Stiles' dad shows up," I tell Derek, getting up and making my way towards a still frighten Isaac.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," I kneel down in front of him, trying not to get too close so he has space to breathe.

"Isaac we're going to have to go now, okay," I stand up stretching out my hand for him to take.

He hesitantly looks between me, Derek, and Stiles.

"It's okay, you're not going to hurt me," I assure him.

He reaches up and takes my hand, I help him up onto his feet. I place his arm around my shoulder, even though our height difference is significant, him at 6ft and me at 5'2. I rub his back comfortingly.

"What am I supposed to do?" Stiles calls out.

"Stay here," Derek tells him, "Figure out something to tell you dad."

He comes over and helps me with Isaac, as I lead us out the back exit before we could get caught.

We quickly make our way to Derek's car. He helps me put Isaac in the backseat, while I sit in the front.

"Where are we going to take him?" I ask Derek as he begins to drive away.

"He'll stay with me," Derek says.

"With you? Where?" I ask, I haven't even had time to ask Derek where he's been staying at since the whole hunters fiasco.

"I got a place," he shrugs his shoulders like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where?" I ask, annoyed at the amount of no detail he's giving me.

"You'll see," he says, causing me to roll my eyes.

"You're annoying," I remark.

"So are you," he quips, trying to make light of the situation we are currently in.

"You two know each other?" Isaac asks from the backseat.

"Eh," I jokingly say.

"Sadly," Derek mockingly jokes back.

"How?"

"Yeah Derek, how do we know each other?" I playfully ask him, as if I didn't know the answer. I just wanted to know how he would answer it.

"Old family friends," he says, keeping his focus on the road ahead.

"Wow," I say at his answer.

"What, it's true."

"That's such a lame answer," I tell him, I turn around in my seat to face Isaac, "I basically lived with Derek and his family until I was about 7/8 years old."

"So you know about this, all of this?" Isaac asks.

"Yeah, I do," I softly say, "If it were up to Derek, he would keep me locked in a closet and out of the way."

"Unfortunately for me, you would annoy the hell out of me thus having me release you," Derek jokes with a serious tone.

"I'm lovable," I smile, shrugging my shoulders.

"Yeah, you are," Derek sarcastically says.

"Yeah you are," Isaac softly says, causing me to blush and turn back around in my seat.

I purse my lips, trying to fight back the smile on my face. I can feel Derek side eye me to get a look at my reaction.

"Shut up Derek," I say, trying to fight the smile on my face, and maintain the redness in my face.

After awhile we pulled into Beacon Hill's warehouse district.

"This is where you live?" I ask him, as he parks his car in front of an abandoned building.

"For now, yes," he says turning his car off, "It's a good place to stay hidden and away."

We all get out of the car and follow Derek into his building.

"Wow, so homey," I comment, looking around the large barren space, that was poorly lit by the cheap lights that Derek turned on.

"It's a place to stay safe, away from the hunters," Derek remarks in a serious tone, "It doesn't need to be homey."

"I'll be right back. I'm going to go grab some things for you two to stay the night."

"Oh, I'm staying the night?" I ask.

"Yes, I don't want to leave Isaac alone," he says, "and you insisted on seeing where I lived."

"I can just take the Camaro."

"Yeah, no. I'll drop you off early tomorrow."

As Derek goes to god knows where in this place, I look over at Isaac who is still a bit shaken up.

"You okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he says unsure, "I think. It's just a lot."

"I know. I mean I wouldn't know, but I can imagine."

"I'm now a wanted man," he says, the realization of what's happening sinking in.

"Don't worry, we're going to figure this out," I tell him walking over to him, and placing my hand on his back.

"Thanks," he softly smiles looking down at me, "You're the only one who's still treating me the same."

"I know you Isaac, and I'm going to make sure nothing happens to you," I reassure him.

"Thank-you," he whispers.

We continue to stare at each other in a comfortable silence. I notice his eyes looking down at my lips then back up at my eyes real quick.

The gravity between our two faces slowly pulls us both into one another. I can feel his breath on my face and vice versa. We close our eyes and lean in,

"Sophia," Derek yells causing Isaac and I to quickly jump away from each other before our lips could meet.

"Yes," I clear my throat, embarrassed about what Derek just walked in on.

"You're going to sleep in my room," he protectively says, "Isaac you'll be sleeping out here on the couch."

Isaac nods his head as Derek handed him a bag, "Got these out of your house earlier."

"Thanks," Isaac says grabbing the bag from Derek, avoiding eye contact.

"Say goodnight Sophia," Derek says, standing next to me.

"Goodnight," I tell Isaac.

"Night," he nods, catching my eyes for a split second before he turns away to get ready for bed.

Derek escorts me to his room, that is actually a bit nicer.

"Should I even ask what was about to happen before I walked in," Derek says closing the door behind us, as I pick up the clothes he left for me on his bed.

"Nuh uh," I shake my head, making my way to the en-suite dimly lit restroom.

"Soph," Derek softly says catching my arm, "I get it okay. The whole teenage thing, I've been there. I just, need you to be careful."

"I will," I sincerely say, nodding my head understanding where he's coming from.

"I don't want to tell you how to live your life, because I'm the last person to judge. I just don't want you getting hurt," he genuinely says.

"Why are you so sure that I'm the one who's going to end up hurt?"

"Because I know you. I might not have been around for awhile, but I still know you Sophia," he says, "You love with your whole heart. You see the good in everybody, you want to believe that everyone is somewhat good. You're the little girl who believed in fairytales so deeply you would cry when someone told you they were fake,

"But you are also the little girl who believed everything. You want to see the good, and I get that maybe I'm a little cynical after all I've been through, but not everyone is good. Not everyone cares about you the way that you care about them. And I just don't want to see you taken advantage of because of that. Simply because someone takes your kindness as weakness."

"I'm not weak," I retort, trying not to cry at what Derek is saying.

"I'm not saying you're weak," he shakes his head, "Hell you're one of the strongest people I know, especially after all you've been dealt. I just want you to be careful about who you give your heart to."

"Can I get ready for bed now, I'm tired," I say looking away from him, trying to hide my watery eyes.

"Yeah, go ahead. I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," I respond, closing the door behind me.

I'm not weak.

I am not weak.

"Yeah, then why are you crying?" my thoughts shoot back at me, as I glance in the mirror to see tears streaming down my face.

Series tag list:  @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate @reganf @sarasmismyonlydefence @colie87 @wish-me-happy-landing @lbuck121 

Permanent tag list: @rosegolddivinity  @definitelynotafangirl​​ @1awesomeash​​ @princess-evans-addict​​ @geeksareunique​​ @24kbratz​​ @introvertatitsfinest​​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​​ @also-fangirlinsweden​​ @the-queen-of-the-nerds

[buffyfan145]

One Fine Day 3/8

Fandom: The Karate Kid, Cobra Kai, Johnny Lawrence

Rating: T

Summary: An AU of Johnny Lawrence getting his redemption much sooner and Billy Zabka gets to be the romantic lead. In 1988 former West Valley alum Laurie Thompson reunites with her high school crush Johnny Lawrence in college. Becoming his tutor the two grow close and she learns more about the real him and his side of the story. As she helps him with school she also helps him with his life and letting go of things from the past, while also falling in love. Multiple characters mentioned, others will appear. Title is the song by The Chiffons.

Author’s Note: Thanks again everyone for all the likes and reading!!! :D I’m so happy with how this story has been. Also for those wondering about why I had Johnny playing soccer it’s such a weird thing rewatching “The Karate Kid” and noticing he and all the Cobra Kai boys were also on West Valley’s soccer team, and yet the show never makes mention of it besides Johnny making fun of Tommy watching soccer. LOL :) This chapter was so fun to write and back to Laurie’s POV.

Chapter 3

Over the next couple weeks Laurie and Johnny got into a routine as they met up each Tuesday and Thursday at the library for their tutoring sessions.  She would help him with things he didn’t understand from his lectures and with his homework.  Noting he seemed to have some comprehension issues she used a technique she learned to use associations for various things.  If it was math she got to him equate it to karate or sports.  Science was a bit harder but they made progress.

It actually surprised Laurie how well Johnny and her got along.  Taken away from all the influences from their teen years he was more forward and seemed to be more confident like the old Johnny.  Playing on the soccer team must have helped too as he had a new coach and teammates in his life.

Maybe it was also with Laurie being a psych major but she could already see good changes in him.  As long as he applied himself to his school work everything would go well.

It also helped being in one of the private study rooms.  There was no librarians telling them to be quiet as the room was sound proof.  Laurie was still amazed she could even handle being in the same room with him. That crush didn’t go away and if anything it was getting stronger.  Spending all this alone time with him and seeing the real Johnny was making her fall even harder.  Deep down she knew he was kind and did care about others, he just always masked it to fit in and she loved seeing that again.

As October began he was doing much better in his classes and the soccer team was doing well, though most of campus really cared about the football team.  That particular day he came into the study room with a huge grin on his face.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”  She asked.

He handed her his paper.  “I got a B+ on the test!”

She looked at the paper and back up at him.  “Oh my God Johnny, that’s awesome!”

“I haven’t gotten a grade that good in years.”  He said in amazement as he sat down next to her.

“See, I knew you do it.”  Laurie said congratulating him.

“Thanks.”  He replied.  “We should go out and celebrate.  I know this place that had amazing hot fudge sundaes.”

She stared at him in shock.  Did he just ask her out?  He said “we” but he did well on that test and she tutored him.  It wasn’t a date.  “Yeah, I’m in.”

“Great, but I know we have to finish studying first.”  He gave her a grin.

“Of course, the semester isn’t over.”

Afterwards they went to his car, that same red car he had in high school, and he drove her a ways off campus to a diner he liked to go to.  This was the first time she’d ever been in his car and it was exactly how she pictured it.  He had rock music blasting and the windows down with his sunglasses on.  This all felt like some crazy fantasy she’d had over the years.  She actually heard him singing along on the radio and tried to hide how happy she was feeling that his was real.

He was right as after they got there the food was good and the sundaes were amazing.  She laughed at him getting a Coors Banquet though with his burger and fries while she had a Cherry Coke.  Some things never changed.

“I can’t believe how good this is.” She said eating her sundae.

“Told you.” Johnny said with that smirk again that almost killed her every time.

“I don’t think there’s a place like this back home.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Have you gone back lately?”

“Just this past summer to see my parents and brothers.  I’ve lost touch with a lot of friends.”  She admitted but that’s usually how it went after high school.

He nodded a bit sad.  “Me too.  I did see Tommy and Bobby this summer. Really only go though to see my mom, preferably without my step-dad.”

She saw the look on his face, one of disgust.  “Is he bad?”

“The worst.”

“What about you dad?”  She asked curious.

“Don’t know him.”  He admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”  She apologized and hoped she didn’t hit a nerve.

“It’s ok.  I never really knew him so I don’t know what I’d miss.”  He smiled a sad smile and she fought the urge in her to hug him.  There seemed to be a deep sadness in him but now wasn’t the time to pry.

“Do you keep in touch with the other guys? Besides Tommy and Bobby?”

“A little”.  He admitted.  “It is hard with all of us in different places.  They’re all doing good.  Miss hanging out with them.”

“You were always all together in school.”  She remembered watching them fondly.

“We were brothers.  Went through a lot of shit  Not just with LaRusso.”  He said and left it there.  There was something he wasn’t saying though.

“Oh Daniel.”  She said remembering that too.

“Don’t tell me you were friends?”  He said annoyed.

She laughed.  “Daniel was nice but I just knew him in passing.  And everything with your karate stuff.”  She hesitated before adding.  ‘And with Ali.”

“Yeah,” he said dejected and turned his face down to play with his spoon in the remnants of his sundae.

Laurie took a breath before saying what she wanted to.  “I never understood it.  Ali broke up with you and then got with Daniel.  You were one of the most popular boys in school and she went with him.”

Johnny looked up at her surprised.  “You didn’t like LaRusso like that?”

“What? No, he looked like he was twelve!”

They both burst out laughing at that.  “He really did look like he was twelve.”  Johnny agreed.  Then he added, “So who did you like?”

Laurie didn’t know what to say but felt a blush creep over her face as he stared at her.  Her heart was telling her to say “You!” but she said instead, “I plead the 5th.”

Johnny just laughed again and shook his head.  She had a feeling he knew the truth but thankfully he changed the subject.

[kristallioness]

Burning bridges

Summary: Aang has a nightmare about the first time he firebent, and the last time he physically hurt Katara.

Word count: 3,511

Author's note: This idea came to me after I'd rewatched "The Deserter" this February. Sometimes I too have woken up in the morning after seeing a weird, or a bad dream. On rare occasions, I start shedding tears because either I remember what I saw and it really disturbed me mentally, or I remember the (sad) feeling that I got from seeing it. So I just pictured Aang waking up in the middle of the night and frantically trying to grab Katara's hands in the dark to check for the burns, only to end up realizing it was nothing but a bad dream. Set postwar, somewhere around the events prior to or after "Imbalance", I imagined. Tears were shed while writing this.

----------x----------

He'll never forget that shriek. That piercing sound that made his heart sink into his boots. The feeling of losing everything he'd worked so hard on building up from scratch ever since they'd met. If she didn't wanna leave him behind after he'd hidden the map that showed the location of her father, then this would certainly be the end of their friendship.

He'd attacked her. His recklessness had caused physical harm to her. It wasn't on purpose, but that didn't matter anymore. Her crouched figure on the riverbank right in front of him spoke otherwise. He'd screwed up, badly.

"Katara! I'm so sorry!" Aang exclaimed. But sorry didn't take away the unbearable pain that she felt coursing through the fresh blood-red stripes on her hands. He airbended himself across the river and softly landed right next to her on the shore.

She was crying. Aang didn't know what to do except stand there and watch her suffer. He was too afraid to say or do anything else, in case he'd hurt her even more. It was all because of his impatience in the first place. Caution must be the key.

"It was an accident. Katara, I'm so sorry!"

He tried to excuse his actions. She needed to know he didn't mean for this to happen. He squatted closer to her to have a look at the damage he had done. But Katara turned her back towards him. He felt like drowning into the shallow river in front of them.

Aang attempted to approach her from another angle, but she kept turning away from him. Her arms were securely crossed over her stomach, hiding the shameful redness that pulsated through her palms.

She'd managed to get herself up on her feet while he was busy running circles around her. She even tried to run away from him, but Aang couldn't let her go. Not like this.

"Katara, please, wait! I'm sorry! I wanna help you!"

He eventually caught up with her and stopped her in her tracks by standing in her way. She didn't seem to want to continue running, but she still balked at showing her hands. No matter how much he pleaded for her to let him help her, Katara shook her head and just continued crying.

Aang had a look around their surroundings and the limited resources. What could he use to heal burns? Some sort of tea leaves? Should he blow some cool air onto her skin? Then it hit him, or actually it splashed against his left boot when he stepped into a steeper part of the riverbank - water. He'd soothe it with water.

"Come here."

Somehow Katara didn't protest when he gently grabbed her shoulders and urged her to kneel down on the ground together with him. Aang reached for her arms on either side and slowly brought them closer to the river. He couldn't bear to look at her hands once she revealed them to him. He squeezed his eyes shut and simply dipped them into the river without looking.

He could practically hear her gritting her teeth together. Her trembling from the unpleasant contact between liquid and scorched tissue transmitted over to him through his own shaky hands. Had he gone too fast?

Katara heaved a sigh of relief and stopped writhing. Silence fell upon the pair, allowing the airbender to release a breath he'd been holding in for too long. Finally, the water started to work.

But then, something heavy fell against him. When Aang opened his eyes, he was surprised to see what the dead weight was.

"Katara?.. Katara!"

Her lifeless body had fallen against his side. He dragged her higher into his embrace, searching for any sign that would indicate why she'd fainted. If that's what'd even happened. But before he could do anything, his attention was caught by something else.

The river in front of them started to turn crimson from the spot he'd laid her hands in, and the source came from her burns. The bloody water spread quickly throughout the entire river, even upstream, like it was sucking the life right out of her. He didn't firebend an open wound into Katara's hands, did he? She couldn't have lost so much blood.

At the same time, the sky grew dim and everything around them turned gray, with the same bloody colour eventually engulfing the sun and turning it completely red. It was as if the lunar eclipse dawned upon them.

Aang could feel his heart pounding against his chest. The darkness threatened to swallow them alive. Only the blood-red river and sun, or was it the moon, cast some sort of light into their world. He held onto Katara for dear life, whispering pleas to her as tears rolled down his cheeks. Anything that would help him undo this mess.

"Please, Katara, wake up! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry..."

Suddenly, everything became pitch-black. Did he just pull another all-powerful Avatar move and make the sun disappear from the sky? Where did the forest and the tainted river go? More importantly, where did Katara go? She was right there in his arms!

Aang turned around and startled when he met her face just inches away from his own. She was unconscious, lying on her left side, facing him. Oh no... Was his firebending more deadly than he'd imagined?

Her hands, he had to find them and heal them somehow. He instantly caught one near her face, and by tracing her bare arm, he found the other one resting above her hip. He twisted her wrists a little bit in order to see her palms. But to his surprise, there were.. no burns?

Aang blinked several times in disbelief. He tenderly ran his fingertips over her hands, grazing the edges of her palms and straightening each of her clenched fingers to examine the inner parts. There really were no burns, no angry scars, no smell of burnt flesh.. nothing. Merely soft, peach-scented skin from when she'd washed her hands before bedtime.

Bedtime, he remembered. He was in such a severe daze that he hadn't even realized it'd all been a horrible nightmare. Except that, a couple of years ago, parts of it had been a painful reality. But right now, Aang didn't know which one caused him more heartache.

He found himself unable to swallow the lump in his throat, which forced him to weep instead. He clasped Katara's hands and covered his face with them to hide away from the world. Nobody could witness him expressing his sorrow behind that protective curtain.

Unfortunately, a few sobs escaped his throat. He tried to hold them in, but it was enough to disturb his girlfriend's peaceful slumber. Katara, still half-asleep, yawned and opened her eyes to look at him, hidden between her own ten fingers.

"Aang.. what's wrong?"

A shiver ran down his spine. He wanted to jump out of bed and run away at the sound of her voice, just like she'd done in his dream. So she wouldn't have to see him like this.

Maybe there was still a way he could salvage this situation. Aang took a deep, calming breath and gulped in order to get rid of his cracking voice.

"I'm sorry, I woke you up. Go back to sleep," he said in the most collected tone he could, after which he shut his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Rolling over to his other side would've surely caused too much suspicion.

Katara groaned as she blinked a couple of times to get the sleep out of her eyes. She raised her head a little bit to get a good look at her boyfriend. She wouldn't have suspected a thing if she hadn't felt something wet drying up on both of her hands. It forced her awake from instinct.

Aang had to let go of her hands when she propped herself up on her elbow, the shadow of her looming over him. He peeked at her as she leaned in closer, barely noticing the streak that ran over his nose and down the side of his face. There was a damp circle near the spot where his right cheek was pressed into the pillow. He'd been caught teary-eyed. She frowned.

"But, sweetie.. you're crying."

Her finger tickled his nose when she attempted to wipe away his tears. Aang nuzzled his face against the pillow so she wouldn't see them. He dared to look her in the eye a moment later, when she wouldn't stop what she was doing. Katara tilted her head and gave him a soft smile.

"Please, Aang.. talk to me. What's going on?"

He slowly brought a hand up to her own and grabbed the back of her right hand one more time, moving it closer to his face. He had to be sure the burns were healed. Upon finding reassurance after another thorough look, he laced his fingers with hers and laid their entwined hands over his eyes once again. He started crying.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry, Katara.." he repeated, suddenly finding it difficult to control his noisy breathing. She guessed that even airbenders couldn't win the battle against sadness sometimes.

Katara lay down opposite to him and nudged herself closer. One by one, she broke her fingers free from in between his own.

"Why are you sorry?"

She laid her hand above his and slid it down his dry cheek so she could see him. She wanted to see those grey eyes of his. To have a closer look at the storm that was raging in his mind. To calm the turbulent waters that didn't seem to stop and found their end on the pile of feathers underneath his head, drip by drip.

But Aang didn't have the heart to meet her halfway. She could sense the tension leave from the muscles on his face with each stroke she gifted him over his cheek. His knitted brows rose higher and he stopped squeezing his eyes shut with so much effort. At least he wasn't trying so hard to hide it anymore.

He opened his mouth, but the words remained lost in his throat. Until he stuttered.

"F-for hurting you."

Katara felt a bit lost.

"You didn't hurt me. When did that happen?"

She did have a point. If he didn't tell her what he was talking about, she wouldn't understand.

Aang breathed in and out deeply a couple of times, in order to calm down and cease his crying. So he could speak to her like a normal human being. He thought that the big sniff he took made her pity him even more. What could he possibly be worked up about so much?

"You know.. when I first tried to learn firebending."

Her mouth fell slightly agape similarly to his for a second, before she was reminded of where they were now.

"Sweetie, that was almost four years ago."

To her, it was ancient history. But to him, it seemed like it'd only been yesterday.

Aang felt her fingertips brush over his eyelashes repetitively. Her thumb slipped across his nose, wiping off fresh tears that wanted to find their way down onto the pillow. She was urging him to open his eyes and look at her. But.. how could he, after what he had done?

"Yes.. but I saw it happen again, tonight," he explained, ensuing a moment of silence, until everything started to make sense for his girlfriend.

"So that's why you're upset. You had a bad dream," she said sympathetically. It sounded so simple coming from her mouth, like it was no big deal. For him, it was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made in his life. Aang finally opened his eyes.

"But it wasn't a bad dream. It really happened. I firebent at you. I burnt your hands."

His voice sounded full of regret. He cautiously took a hold of her hands once more, his fingers running along the wrinkles in her palm and the bent angles of her own slim fingers. She could feel them trembling a bit in his grasp.

"I know. And I forgave you. It was an accident."

She wasn't sure whether he was listening to her or not. Aang merely shook his head against the pillow, like he was denying the incident ever happening. Or he couldn't believe that she was so kind to him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated one last time.

Katara scooted over under the sheets and bumped her forehead against his own. She looped one arm over his shoulder and slithered her other hand below his chin. She held him close and made him look her in the eye.

"I forgive you, Aang. Do you hear me?"

A new wave of tears spilled over his face. He'd never felt so thankful. She always knew how to get him to open up to her.

However, he wasn't prepared for what she did next. Katara brought her hands back onto his face, firmly laying them on his cheeks. His tears trickled down the back of her hand, the one she'd squeezed in between the pillow and his cheek. He expected her to tell him to stop crying, that it's all in the past or something. But instead, she did the exact opposite. She let him cry.

"It's okay, Aang. Just let it all out."

He did. Aang felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off of his chest. He closed his eyes for a minute, taking all the time he felt he needed to weep.

Katara noticed him return her smile. She was so happy to be able to witness him make peace with this incident.

"Your tears are made of water, so in a way, you're healing on the inside, just as much as you're healing the old burns on my hands on the outside. Think of these as healing tears."

She could really feel him grinning into her palms now. Even though there were no burns evident on her hands anymore, he was still healing them by letting the tears from his eyes fall onto her skin.

That was water, the element she used to heal others, including herself. If he hadn't thought of crying as a healing process for both his mental being and her physical self before, he sure did now.

He lifted a hand above hers, softly guiding her thumb over his nose with the help of his own, teaching her how to wipe away his tears.

"You're so good, Katara. I don't know why nor what I've done to deserve you," he spoke softly, his gaze meeting her own. She thought that giving him a gentle nudge would've been inappropriate, given his delicate state. But she knew he wasn't supposed to be the one making her cry, too.

She blinked away the tears in the corners of her eyes. Aang felt her lips leave a wet kiss over his mouth. He tried to return it, but she spoke before he could.

"You didn't need to do anything to 'deserve' me," she murmured lovingly, then pressed her lips against his own more firmly, giving him a proper kiss this time.

Once she pulled away, Aang used the opportunity to dry off the last of his tears. He held her hand in his own, using her palm as a tissue to wipe his cheeks with. She grazed over any wet spots he'd missed with her fingertips.

When they were more or less dry, he grabbed both her hands again and brought each one to his lips, sealing them with a kiss in the middle of her palm. He knitted his brows.

"I'm really sorry for hurting you back then. I'd never do anything to hurt you ever again, I promise."

Katara ran a finger over the corner of his mouth, gently pulling it up into a smile. Oddly enough, she'd been smiling at him almost all this time.

"I know," she assured him. Her smile faded a bit when Aang averted his gaze. He still seemed a tad worried to her.

"Is there something else that's on your mind?"

He hesitated for a second, then nodded.

"Tell me," Katara pleaded. Her blue eyes grew wider when he reached his hand out for her own cheek this time. He hesitated for a second, afraid that his touch may leave another burn on her face, before he carefully lowered it. She followed his caresses with curiosity.

"I was just thinking.. when I firebent at you back then, you ran away. And you wanted to run away in my dream, too. If I did hurt you again, unintentionally.. would you stay by my side?"

He didn't expect her to answer in a heartbeat.

"Yes. Because you'd never hurt me, at least not intentionally. And even if you did, well.."

Aang's breath got caught in his throat for a second, but luckily she shook her head at that disturbing thought, which caused unease in both their stomachs. Did she really think that he..?

"No. You would never do that. And that's why I'd probably forgive you. I'd forgive you a thousand times if necessary, cause I know you wouldn't mean it. I know we'll have huge arguments and stuff like that as we grow older.. But no matter the reason, I would never leave you. I couldn't. If I left, then I'd be breaking my own, and your heart, too."

Katara tenderly laced her fingers with his and picked up his hand from her cheek, lowering it to her chest. Once again, she sensed a bit of resistance before Aang allowed her to let him touch her.

She pressed his palm against there, right above her beating heart. If that didn't convince him, she didn't know what would.

"I love you, Aang. And I'm not gonna leave you behind. Not now, not ever."

The airbender let his fingers run along the cottony fabric while his focus remained on her words. If she was lying, according to Toph, he should be able to sense some sort of physical reaction. But he couldn't detect anything like that.

A tremble? Katara's body language showed that she was utterly relaxed around him. Perhaps wanting to look away and lock her gaze on something different? No, she maintained eye contact with him, even when he was looking somewhere else other than straight into her blue eyes.

Were her cheeks blushing? It didn't look like it. Aang wasn't sure since he couldn't tell in the darkness, but she still wore that warm smile. That much he could see.

Did her heart skip a beat when she talked to him? No, the subtle vibrations thumping against his palm and fingertips showed no sign of fear of being caught in a lie. A lying person's heartbeat would've been drumming away a lot faster than that. Hers was steady and strong. Out of love, not fear.

The corners of Aang's mouth curled into a smile. He slowly clenched his fingers back into a fist, like he wanted to grab Katara's heart and protect it from all the hurt it'd gone through, and will go through in the future. But he didn't need to worry about that. Cause she wouldn't leave him behind.

"Never?"

"Never," she assured him once more, sealing her promise with another kiss on his lips. The airbender remained lingering over everything that was said, his finger softly scratching the cloth covering her chest. Katara gifted him with a couple of more strokes along his now-dried-up cheek to soothe him.

"Enough dwelling on the past, okay, sweetie? Don't you remember what you learned after we saved that fisherman and his wife from that storm? We can't change what's already been, so let's stop worrying about it, and focus on our shared future instead. We're here now, so let's make the most of it. Shape it the way we want it to be, together."

Okay, so Aang still knew her well enough. She'd simply left the comforting wisdom part to the end. He had to admit, her optimistic and forward-looking attitude did manage to cheer him up. He gave her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Katara."

He tickled her chest by drawing a heart shape above the lilac pyjama she was wearing. The sensation prompted her to chuckle before she brought a finger to her lips and hushed him.

"Now, sleep.."

Aang heeded her advice and nuzzled his nose into his pillow. She swayed her hand in front of his face, like a mother telling her child to close his eyes and rest. He played along and shut his eyes on cue. A minute or two later, when he was already drifting away towards a much more peaceful slumber, he felt something warm smoothly crawl over his face.

Katara kept her hands close. One of them was tucked below his chin while the other one sprawled out over his cheek. This way, he didn't have to worry about burning her hands again. She was holding onto him this time, and she wouldn't let go.

[softderekhale]

from the archives: snippets of a sterek pacrim au

hey y’all! i definitely haven’t been super active on this blog or tumblr at all lately, for a lot of reasons but mainly just... life. doesn’t that suck sometimes? but i really, truly hope everyone is doing well and you + your loved ones are staying safe. (long reflection + tumblr fic after the cut, lol)

i’ve been in kind of a funk with writing since the last time i “had” to do it, which was 12 days/sterek secret santa like, 6 months ago. it’s frustrating to me that i went from writing my longest fic ever exactly 2 years ago to having almost zero output now, but i’m trying not to be too hard on myself and i know writing is a really fickle pastime. anyway, this is a really long leadup, but i decided to just release some stuff i wrote into the wild. it’s either here or my google drive, so i might as well see if anyone wants to read it! 

pacific rim is undoubtedly one of my favorite movies of all time (it was only bumped down by into the spider-verse, but they’re almost tied ;D). it came out right after my sterek obsession began, and i always imagined writing a sterek au based around derek and stiles being drift compatible. that whole concept has always been so lovely to me and fits in nicely with some of my favorite soulmate-y tropes. this idea always felt too ambitious, though, and i didn’t write a single word of it until i rewatched the movie in november/december 2019. i wrote the following stuff in an extremely giddy haze over the next few weeks. i’m not good about pushing myself to write, so i never added any more, but i still really like what i had/have! i hope maybe someday i’ll feel the urge to come back to it. but anyway, here’s my completely self-indulgent homage to one of my favorite movies and one of my favorite fandoms. in my au chronology for this, following the events of the first movie, global governments and the ppdc decided to deploy jaegers for continued deep sea exploration to further benefit scientific discovery and avoid wasting such expensive tech/training. this lead to a lot of corporate interference re: treasure hunting, etc. (national treasure, but make it underwater). oh, and werewolves exist (because wouldn’t they make great jaeger pilots?!). also, A SECOND PACIFIC RIM MOVIE WAS NEVER EVER MADE. THE END. laura and derek were copilots before a kaiju-fighting incident forced them into early retirement. laura is still alive, though! (because it’s me.)

***

“Mayday! Mayday! LOCCENT, do you copy? This is Luna Geminae paging for backup. LOCCENT! Danny, we can’t hold them much longer…”

Laura’s growl of frustration rang in Derek’s ear as he strained against the beast.

“Keep holding it, Derek. You can do this. I know you can. They’re so close, Derek, they’ve gotta be. Just a few more—”

Derek never knew how Laura intended to finish that sentence. All he would ever remember was the scream that tore out of her throat. Later, he would describe it as the first time he ever understood the meaning of “bloodcurdling.”

“Laura!” Derek gritted his teeth as pain roared down his left arm, causing his vision to blur and spark white around the edges.

“My arm, Jesus, my fucking… They got my arm, Derek—” 

As water poured into the cabin above and around him, the last thing he remembered hearing was Laura’s anguished howl. Then the sky became fire, and everything went dark.

***

The day of the accident convinced Derek that his world would never stop burning.

For months after, when he lay staring at the ceiling until the early hours of the morning, the staticky shapes his eyes created to fill the darkness always melted and formed a wall of flames no matter how many times he scrunched his eyes shut and buried his face in his pillow. The noises, too — the ambient whoosh of the Dome’s ventilation system and the soft heart-like thud of the power grid soon coalesced into a unified, rhythmic chant that sounded more and more like Laura’s scream the longer Derek listened: Derek! Help!

In the days and weeks following their accident, Derek had tried every trick he could think of to reassure his subconscious that Laura was alive and safe, and would remain so even after she left his line of sight. For almost a week after she was released from the medical bay, he slept in the spare bunk above her. As reticent as he normally was to invade Laura’s privacy any more than he had to, experiencing her near-loss allowed panic and instinct to envelop Derek’s frayed nerves. He never fully explained it to Laura, but he didn’t have to — she never questioned his presence, nor did she point out that Derek always waited to fall asleep until he was certain she had already drifted off. 

Eventually, though, Derek realized the routine was leaving them both sleep-deprived and irritable. He resolved to move back to his own quarters, not wanting to smother Laura with his relentless, anxious presence. But he knew she still sensed his distress — every evening at 2300 hours, like clockwork, she knocked on his door to tell him goodnight and gently pressed her right palm against her brother’s neck before waving and returning to her own room. It was a routine they continued even now, half a decade beyond the fight that had left their Jaeger decimated. 

They had made progress, which Laura was always quick to remind her younger brother. Nothing could have prepared him for the aftermath of the accident, though, and the dark places where Derek’s mind would drift when there was no one around to distract him. Alone with his thoughts, no reassurance was strong enough to quiet Derek’s memories.

He shifted again in bed, his half-awake mind scrambling to remember the breathing exercises Deaton had taught him over the years.

Inhale through your nose. One. Two. Three. Hold. Exhale through your mouth. One. Two. Three—

Derek!

Start again. Inhale through your nose. One. Two. Three. Hold. Exhale through your mouth. Slower this time.

Good. Again.

***

This comes way after the scene above lol sorry

“Right hemisphere locked. Left hemisphere locked. Vitals are steady. Initiating neural handshake.”

Danny’s voice echoed through Derek’s head as he let his eyes flutter shut and tipped his head back. He’d been anxious about this moment for days now, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t secretly a little — or a lot — excited, too. Drifting was a heady, emotional experience, and if he and Stiles were truly compatible, Derek might finally get to settle the unease he had felt since his connection with Laura was severed.

“Alright,” Danny said. “You should be feeling it in three… two… one.”

Derek’s eyes flew open, but his gaze defocused as he felt his center of gravity list forward before returning.

As his sense of internal balance returned, the tingle of the neural link fizzed over his scalp. There it is. Slowly, then all at once, he felt the rush of Stiles’ mind meeting his own. Their emotions flowed over one another like water, memories flashing and sensations pulsing before slipping away into their shared flow of awareness. Derek had trained himself long ago to let himself float until the waters steadied, and he could feel Stiles, ever perceptive, do the same.

“Neural handshake established and holding at 100 percent.”

Without having to think twice about the gesture, Derek felt his knuckles meet his palm as he dipped into a customary bow. As he and Stiles led Luna in her first exploratory steps, Derek felt the weight of any lingering fears melt away.

With Laura, Derek had always felt like they were extensions of one another, movements and decisions cascading seamlessly from a fully unified thought process. Drifting with Stiles, though, felt unlike anything Derek had ever experienced. They were two sides of the same coin — each aggressive and reserved in equal, opposite measure. If Derek and Laura were reading from the same script, he and Stiles were finishing each others’ sentences as they improvised the same scene. 

When they first met, Derek had found Stiles anything but graceful — but now, as they nearly seemed to glide across the ocean floor, he felt foolish for not realizing the instinctive adjustments and calculations stiles was constantly making based on his surroundings. As they steered Luna across the testing ground, Derek felt his temples begin to thrum with an energy he hadn’t felt in years. Best of all, he knew Stiles felt it too — he could literally trace the path of his elation as it wrapped around Derek’s senses and amplified his own excitement.

“How are you doing?” Derek shouted across the rig. It wasn’t a question he needed to ask verbally, but he chose to anyway, knowing it would help ground them both in the present moment and prevent any stray thought spirals from taking over their link.

“So good, dude. This is — this is unreal,” Stiles replied, slicing through the air with his left arm to test the angle of the jaeger’s knuckle daggers.

Derek smiled. “Not exactly like the simulators, huh?”

“Nothing like the simulators, man. Holy shit.”

As they continued to acclimate to the drift, Derek took Stiles through a few more of Luna’s signature maneuvers. Stiles’ extensive research showed, and combined with the knowledge he and Derek now shared, the moves seemed to come naturally.

“Do you want some music?” He and Laura always played music when training, but he didn’t want Stiles to feel—

“That’s all I want right now, Derek.” Derek’s grin broadened as Stiles flicked through the controls hovering in front of him. A heavy bass line thrummed through the cabin, and Derek finally did what he never thought he would be able to again in his lifetime: he let his mind relax and free-fell into the drift.

***

Two hours after he and Stiles had eaten dinner and finally parted ways, Derek still couldn’t stop thinking about their drift.

That wasn’t unusual, all things considered — emotional transfer was common, especially for werewolves and especially during the first few drifts with a new partner.

Every time Derek thought about his connection with Stiles, though, and the experience of their emotions weaving together, his mind kept snagging in one place. It was a place that had struck Derek even during the high of the neural handshake, not because it felt odd or foreign, but because it felt hauntingly familiar — but looked ugly and sinister looming over someone else. 

It was anguish. It was a grief that had been doused in shame and set alight. It was a feeling of loss and self-loathing that made Derek feel like he was suffocating. It was exactly the way Derek had felt every day for years after the fire, and again after the accident. 

He had tried to explain it to Laura as dispassionately as possible all the times she chided him for blaming himself or expressing guilt over what happened to their family, but he never knew how to describe it until he experienced it through Stiles’ memories. It was sore, like a bruised rib, a persistent ache that radiated out from the point of impact and lingered at the edge of his consciousness. Distractions might be able to push away some of the pain, but as long as he kept breathing, it would always be there.

Derek hadn’t seen exactly where Stiles’ pain radiated from, but it seemed to shroud the memories of his mother especially strongly. Stiles told him she had been sick, though — why would he feel guilty about her death?

He sat up, his leg bouncing as he fidgeted absently with a hangnail. Since deciphering what that unexpected shared emotion reminded him of, Derek couldn’t stop thinking about it. This, he knew, was normal too — without an outlet, emotional transfer tended to create a feedback loop as a co-pilot bounced back and forth between their own memories and their partner’s. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Derek shot up and strode to the door. It was late, almost midnight, and the full body experience of drifting had left Derek racked with fatigue. But — he just wanted to talk to Stiles. To be near him, again, as if it were a substitute for the feeling of absolute synchronicity they had just shared. It would only take a few minutes.

He was so distracted by his own jumbled thoughts that it took him a moment to register who stood just outside his door as he flung it open — it was Stiles, hand paused in mid-air.

“Stiles.” Very eloquent, Derek, he chided himself with an internal voice that sounded suspiciously like Laura.

“Oh— Well. Um. Hi.” Stiles gave a small wave before shoving his hand in his pocket. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were about to—“

“I was about to find you.”

Stiles paused. “Really?”

Derek stepped back, nodding toward the doorway. “Really. Do you want to come in?”

As he and Stiles stood facing each other silently, Derek scrambled for exactly what he wanted to say. Everything was so effortless when they were in the drift. Why was it so hard to find the words now?

To his relief, Stiles was the one who broke the silence. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re tired… I’m just kind of keyed up, I guess, and I couldn’t—“ Stiles ducked his head down. “I don’t know. I thought it might help to see you.”

“Don’t apologize. You have good instincts,” Derek assured him. “And I— I wanted to see you too,” he added, feeling the tips of his ears heat. 

He could almost feel Stiles’ sigh of relief in his own chest. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.” Derek scooped a discarded pile of clothes off his bed and gingerly sat down after Stiles, mindful of the careful space between them. “Are you feeling okay?”

Stiles’ eyebrows jumped. “Yeah, I feel fine, I really do, but I just feel… jumpy, I guess. Which is normal for me, but I can tell this is different. I don’t know how I know, but…” he trailed off, gesturing abstractly in front of him.

Derek nodded. “I know what you mean. You can’t really prepare for the drift until you’ve done it,” he said, remembering how disjointed he felt after his first few test runs. “But it gets easier,” he added.

Stiles shook his head. “I’m not worried about it. I trust you.” His eyes shot up to meet Derek’s, as if challenging him to dispute the steady, honest heartbeat behind his words. 

Derek was surprised to feel something behind his eyes sting at the pronouncement. He looked away from Stiles’ scrutinizing gaze, but he felt the other man’s eyes continue to study him. “I’m glad. I— that means a lot to me.”

Stiles nodded, remaining thoughtfully silent. Derek sensed he wanted to ask something, but wasn’t ready to admit it on his own.

“Is there anything I can do?” Derek asked gently, eyes seeking Stiles’ again.

Stiles looked pointedly away and bit at his thumbnail. “Um. It sounds stupid now. But I read… I read that physical contact can help,” he mumbled, so quickly Derek might not have caught it without his magnified hearing.

He realized Stiles’ admission may have felt embarrassing for a human, but for Derek, it was almost a relief. He reached forward slowly and cupped his hand over Stiles’ shoulder with a light squeeze. 

“It’s not stupid. You felt how intense the drift is. When you separate from a complete mental overlap, it can be disorienting. And you know how tactile wolves are — that makes it even harder for us, so you’re probably getting some of this from my own emotional bleed.” He didn’t miss the way Stiles melted into his touch, his whole body swaying into their point of contact.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense. Thanks,” his gaze flicked up to meet Derek’s.

“Do you—“ Derek didn’t really know how to ask for more contact. It came so naturally with other werewolves, so he’d never really had to think about it before. “I don’t want to touch you in a way you’re not comfortable with. But if you want to lay down, or you want me to lay down or…” He took a sharp, steadying breath. “I’m trying to say that I understand, and I think it will make us both feel better, and I’m fine with whatever level of contact you’re okay with.”

Stiles laughed, a bright and unexpected break in the tension. “Jesus. Listen to us. I feel ridiculous, but— Thank you. You’re very considerate.” He paused, expression drawing almost imperceptibly tighter. “I want that too, though. I want you to feel comfortable. If you’re not, if there’s anything I do— I promise I’ll ask, first, and if you can tell me, I want you to.” 

Derek felt a lump rise in his throat. Stiles’ words were sincere, but carefully chosen. He wasn’t sure how much of his own memories Stiles had observed, but it seemed to have been enough to understand that physical touch had once been a powerful weapon wielded against him.

“Thank you,” he answered quietly, before gently tugging at Stiles’ arm. “Here, lay down.”

The bed was barely wide enough for both of them to lay side by side, but it was just enough space for both men to settle on their backs with their elbows carefully layered between them. Derek hesitated for a moment before angling his head against Stiles’ neck. “Is this okay?”

Stiles hummed in agreement, the back of his hand flitting against Derek’s so softly he almost thought he imagined it. “This is perfect.” He inhaled deeply through his nose and tilted his head closer to Derek’s. They lay silently for a handful of minutes, and the rhythmic in-out of Stiles’ breathing nearly lulled Derek to sleep.

Suddenly, Derek felt Stiles still. “Why were you about to come look for me?”

Derek huffed. “I wanted to see you.”

“What, you had to check in on the rookie who can’t handle a drift?” Stiles’ tone was light, devoid of any real offense, and he jostled his shoulder gently against Derek’s.

“You did great. If anything, I— I hadn’t done it in so long, and Laura was my only co-pilot before you.” Derek frowned, remembering the heavy emotions of Stiles’ that had ensnared him earlier. He didn’t want to overwhelm Stiles, but he also wanted him to know that he both empathized with and thought highly of him. 

“I never thought I would get in a rig again,” Derek continued. “I don’t think I trusted myself enough. I carry… I carry a lot of guilt, Stiles. But when I thought about piloting with you, the guilt didn’t win. You’re the first person who’s been capable enough, smart enough, strong enough, that I didn’t have to worry.” 

Stiles didn’t respond at first, and a flash of panic seized Derek before he felt strong, warm fingers curl around his own.

“I won’t let you down,” Stiles said, his voice nearly a whisper and rough with emotion.

“I don’t think you could,” Derek whispered back, before he let his eyes slip shut and exhaustion overtake him.

***

When Derek awoke the next morning, he was startled — but it wasn’t in reaction to the way Stiles had draped himself over Derek in his sleep. Feeling Stiles’ arms around his waist felt oddly natural. The surprising part was how well he had slept — it was the first night of uninterrupted slumber he could remember having in months, if not longer.

***

yeah so... that’s all for now! if you read this, thanks and i hope you’re doing well!!! ❤️ 

[babbushka]

No Time Like the Present

I rewatched Logan Lucky for the 147395th time, so i felt inclined to write a little Clyde Logan x Reader fic. It’s soft, it’s sweet -- i hope y’all enjoy 

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: none :)

I love you so much, it hurts me

Darlin, that's why I'm so blue

I'm so afraid to go to bed at night

Afraid of losing you…

You sang along to the crackling radio, swaying your hips slowly back and forth, rearranging some flowers in the sunlight that streamed through the soft linen curtains. The sun caught some speckles that were floating around, and you sighed, reaching for the duster.

“Oh Patsy.” You sighed to yourself, her lyrics bouncing in your mind as you hummed along, preoccupied with one thing. “What am I gonna do?”

You didn’t know when it had started, not really, when your heart had started growin’ full of love for him. Probably back in high school, if you were honest with yourself, but that was such a long time ago that really it felt like you were born with it, with this crush.

He was your favorite customer, Clyde. Not many folk round those parts had as deep of a love for reading as Clyde did, a respect for it. When he came in, he went through every spine on the shelves, his brow knitted in concentration. Unlike so many others, he purchased the book of his fancy even after taking a quiet seat in the reading nook and getting through a big portion of it. Once, he even finished the story in his lil corner of the nook, and he still bought the book.

Clyde was always respectful of you and your shop, carefully wading through the aisles and shelves that might have been too narrow for him to get through comfortably – after all it was a small store. He always paid with a couple bucks too much, but refused to take back any change. He gave you a smile that you were practically fixed on, and every now and again he would crack a joke in that dry deep voice of his that had you melting.

You were so wrapped up in the thought of him, that you nearly missed him walking through the threshold into your store.

“Good afternoon, Clyde.” You smiled warmly at him. He blushed and gave you a smile in return, and for the first time in your quiet acquaintance with him, he approached the checkout counter instead of going straight for the books.

Every time you got to look at him, you were always blown away. He was tall and wide, and looked so sturdy you were pretty sure if you ran at him, you would bounce back. You had never seen him in any sort of formal wear, always in a pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved button down (carefully tucked in, of course), and today was no different. He did wear a baseball cap though, to keep the sun out of his eyes. You loved the way his ears stuck out.

“Good afternoon, (Y/N).” Clyde took his baseball cap off, and ran his good hand through his locks to fluff them back up. You had to resist the urge to card your fingers through his hair yourself. “You look beautiful today.” He blushed, immediately tripping over his words, “Not – not that you don’t look beautiful other days! – just – well today especially so.”

“Thank you. You look handsome yourself, as always.” You blushed bright red, caught very much off-guard by his compliment. You couldn’t help but grin seeing that smile of his once more, seeing the way he too flushed red.

You two fidgeted for a moment or two, before Clyde cleared his throat and looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“I was just wonderin’…” He started, trailing off and looking nervous again.

Your breath caught – was he going to ask you out? Valentine’s Day had passed a couple of days ago, but there was nothing wrong with a belated celebration you thought. Why, you were sure there was still chocolate and candy at the grocery stores, even discounted!

“Yes?” You prompted, when Clyde didn’t wind up finishing his question.

His eyes snapped to you, all nervous again. He looked like he was going to say something, but then he sighed very slightly and his shoulders slumped.

“Would you mind helpin’ me find a book?” He asked, rubbing his finger idly against the wood of the counter. “There’s one in particular I’ve been lookin’ for, I was hopin’ you might have a copy.”

You tried not to let your spirits crash too visibly. Damn Patsy Cline and her love songs, getting you into such a romantic mood. Of course Clyde was only here for a book, that’s why he always came, after all.

“Of course!” You forced a bright smile and walked around the counter. “What’s the title?”

“Well that’s just the thing,” Clyde sighed once more, scratching the back of his neck. “I can’t remember it.”

Despite your shattered hopes, you laughed. Looking for a book with no title is like trying to find a song with no lyrics, you thought. You said as much, and he laughed too.

“I’m pretty good with song lyrics.” He said warmly, and you just crossed your arms over your chest.

“Do you remember what color the cover was?” You asked, needing someplace to start.

“Yeah, I think it was red?” Clyde said, his voice trailing up into a question.

“Then let’s go see, hmm?” You smiled, walking over to the section of the store that had a big selection of red spines and covers.

You became very aware that the two of you were the only ones in the store. It wasn’t unusual, three o’clock was a pretty off time for your humble shop. But the song faded out from the radio and light static replaced it as the signals tried to figure themselves out. In the quiet, you found you were nearly holding your breath around him, and feeling very pathetic for it. Why couldn’t you just get a grip? He probably had no interest in you whatsoever, you thought bitterly.

Unfortunately, you also became very aware of just how narrow some of your aisles of books were – the two of you kept bumping into one another as you sifted through covers. Arms brushed, and you blushed, feeling like a love-sick fool. It didn’t help that he practically radiated warmth; on more than one occasion you had to scooch by him and you placed a respectful hand on his back to let him know, and it always surprised you at how warm your hand came away.

He towered over you a good foot and a half, you barely comin’ up to his shoulders. You thought it must be nice to be able to reach the top shelves with no problem, and despite it all, the image made you smile.

“Do you remember what kind of book it was?” You asked, when you wanted to hear his deep rich voice again.

“’Was a love story, I think.” Clyde said softly.

“I’m a sucker for romance.” You replied, “Don’t get much of it out here in the real world, so the books are a nice way to pretend.” You admitted when you turned to find him looking at you in surprise. No doubt he had been teased before for liking romance novels, they had a stigma attached to them for whatever reason.

“You outta tell your man that you’re feeling neglected.” Clyde frowned. He frowned even deeper when you sucked in a laugh.

“I’ll tell him but I don’t think he’ll do anything about it, on account of he doesn’t exist.” You smiled sadly.

“He doesn’t exist?” Clyde repeated in that baritone voice of his.

“No sir.” You shook your head, resuming your search through the books on the shelf.

“You mean to tell me a gorgeous angel like yourself was all by her lonesome on Valentine’s Day?” Clyde asked, voice almost so quiet you couldn’t hear it.

“Every year.” You said simply before shrugging. “But it’s okay. I’ve got my flowers and my shop, and my radio. Helps keeping me from feeling too lonely.”

And you, you thought, but you didn’t dare say that out loud, didn’t want to scare him off and then you wouldn’t have him anymore.

Clyde stopped his search, and circled your wrist with his warm hand. You stopped what you were doing too, and turned to look at him. He was unfairly handsome, you thought, as the sun made its way to his eyes through the window. He looked at you – really looked, and nudged your wrist in his direction, silently asking you to step closer to him. You did so without any hesitation.

“Does it work?” Clyde asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand leaving your wrist to rest softly on your cheek.

“Not all the time.” You whispered back with a shake of your head.

Clyde brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, and you let your eyes slip closed at the feeling.

Moments later, plush lips pressed against yours, a hand cradling the back of your head.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest, and you raised your arms to wind around his neck gently, parting your lips so he could kiss you more deeply. You felt Clyde’s prosthetic curl around your waist, and the touch grounded you, gave you more confidence.

You stood on your tip toes, pressed yourself closer to him, as if that were possible.

Oh how long you had dreamed of something like this! The radio crackling to life softly, the sun warming your skin, your life-long crush in your arms. Except this time, it wasn’t a dream – at least, you were ninety-nine percent sure it wasn’t.

Clyde kissed you and kissed you and then kissed you again, until you were grinning against his lips, separating just a bit to get some air.

“I’m sorry – that was too forward of me I – ” Clyde started, sounding not the least bit apologetic, and you just shook your head and giggled.

“Kiss me again?” You asked.

 Clyde didn’t need to be told twice.

 “Would you like to go out with me tonight? On a date? A proper date.” He asked you, an hour later.

He was helping you lock up the shop early, never having found that book after all. You thought he made the whole thing up to spend time with you, but that was something to tease him about another day.

“I would love to.” You nodded, threading your fingers with his metal ones as you walked to his car.

“I’ve been wantin’ to ask you that for a long time, (Y/N).” Clyde swallowed thickly, looking down at your hand in his. He opened the door for you, and you only let go to sit yourself down and buckle your seatbelt.

“Well, no time like the present.” You beamed up at him when he rounded the car and sat down in the driver’s seat.

In typical Clyde fashion, he just gave you that smile and a blush, and turned the car on. You rested a hand on his thigh as he drove down the road, and with your other one, fiddled with the radio, letting the sweet sounds of Patsy Cline fill the air.

While I give to you

And you give to me

True love, true love

So on and on

It will always be

True love, true love

tagging some friends!  @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @arwarz @admiralsixx

[wings-of-a-storm]

Apparently it is that time again when the emotions of my Skam France addiction bubble over and I actually have time to write up some thoughts on scenes that have moved me.

In the stress of Incommunicado Eliott Week, now seems like a great time to revisit a slightly happier time for Elu... Hint: it involves paint.

AN OVERDUE REVISITING OF EPISODE 7: THE PAINT FIGHT ERA

Let me try and start from the beginning…

BOY GANG HELPING LUCAS

They may not always be my favourite boy squad, but it warms my heart how Lucas’ friends all gathered to support him through an emotionally tough task: painting the Mural of Heartbreak that was supposed to be Lucas’ and Eliott’s special thing together.

Come to think of it, Lucas didn’t technically even have to do it. If Daphne needed the eyesore gone that badly, she could have kept bugging Eliott to do it since he was the one who offered in the first place. With that in mind, I guess Lucas needed to paint over the mural as a form of closure. It may have always been hanging over his head as this ongoing promise between him and Eliott. By painting over it with his friends, he could cut that painful ‘what if’ from his life and close that door before Eliott can get another foot in. It is a tangible way for him to feel like he is in control and moving on (with the bonus of making Daphy happy).

The boys helping him through that was the Gang support we and Lucas had been needing! I don’t have much else to add about them in this scene but wanted to give them kudos anyway because they really helped Lucas a lot just by being there with him and helping him have a new memory of the mural. (It’s hard to say that with a straight face after knowing what happens…)

SENDING AN ULTIMATUM

I was honestly rather skeptical that the boys would be able to help Lucas navigate the strained relationship he was in with Eliott. Their relationship felt so damaged compared to other versions -- Lucas wasn’t budging or letting any softness in no matter how many well-meaning drawings he received. Eliott needed to prove his mindset was different before Lucas could even consider letting him back into his life. Eliott hadn’t achieved that by the time Lucas met up with his friends to paint the mural though, and a few texts to Eliott didn’t seem likely to appeal to Lucas. The ball was in Eliott’s court after all, to prove he wasn’t just leading Lucas on again.

But to my surprise, the text ultimatum started unfolding anyway. And even more surprising, it actually started to make sense. Lucas had chosen to ghost Eliott until he was convinced that Eliott had made his choice and was going to stick to it. What that meant though was that Lucas had taken on a passive role (just waiting things out) and he became trapped in that self-imposed limbo land. He couldn’t get out by himself because he was too in love to give up that last drop of hope that Eliott would somehow come back and mean it this time.

We’ve seen Lucas be savage before so he did have it in him to actually text Eliott (as Eliott himself had even requested with his last drawing) to tell him to knock it off and stop leaving drawings, but Lucas never quite reached that step. Perhaps he was hoping Eliott would get the message on his own after two deliberate ghostings and he wouldn’t have to say the difficult words out loud. But of course I think it was more that his subconscious just couldn’t handle cutting hope off completely that the boy he was in love with would dump Lucille for good and come back to him.

It wasn’t going to happen though because nothing was changing. It made sense then that Lucas would be receptive to (unsolicited) advice on how to take that final step and make it either a clean break or a clean reunion. Especially when his ‘experienced’ (wtf Arthur!) friends seemed so confident that texting an ultimatum was guaranteed to end Lucas’ woes one way or another. It’s hard not to get hyped up with that sort of group confidence. It was the push Lucas probably knew deep down that he needed to take to exit his own purgatory. He was only leading himself on… I love that even though the Gang gave Lucas the basic guidelines of what message to send to Eliott, Lucas, in typical Savage Style, was able to put the killer touches on his texts. He didn’t mince his words; they sure cut straight through the bullshit with a bullseye that drew blood. This, more than anything, sold the scene for me. It felt so true to Lucas that he would jump on a chance to express his frustration without any games but just needed that push from an unbiased third party.

I only have one minor issue with the scene: the pacing of the Gang’s solution just felt a little disproportionately quick. Is it a French language thing? Are things just expressed so much easier and quicker in French than in English so it takes longer to read and process? Because the Gang’s advice kind of gave me whiplash -- especially when they were able to even digress with the ‘wtf Arthur’ tangent in almost the same breath.

Or is it just a Skam France thing because they have that painful time limit that always messes with the pacing? I guess I just get frustrated that some scenes feel a little rushed when they don’t have to be. Even with a time limit, you can still work your pacing around it by cutting certain lines out to give pivotal scenes the space they need to breathe. For example, they could have left out Arthur’s mysterious past relationship or Lucas listening to a story about a recently deceased hoarder… By rushing the Gang’s advice, you don’t really have time as a viewer to anticipate whether it will work and whether Eliott will even show up or not. It wouldn’t have ruined the sense of urgency to slow it down even just a little… But maybe that comes down to my personal taste.

LUCAS: THE ARTISTE

God love Lucas for his highly convincing I’m just an Artiste holding a paint brush while pondering a mural on a Friday afternoon pose. How relatable was that. Of course Lucas needed to feel unaffected and strong even though he was practically trembling with nervous energy. His fear of turning around after hearing the door open was palpable. It doesn’t matter how many times I rewatch it, I am always scared for him. Plus the soft, tentative piano music accompanying Lucas’ nerves is almost too much to bear with its earnest fragility…

The man he is desperately in love with has just walked into the room and might break his heart all over again…

A WILD RACOON APPEARS: ABOUT TIME

Eliott Demaury, don’t you ever leave us again! Lucas had missed Eliott; I had missed Eliott; we all had missed Eliott, so of course the very second we saw his beautiful, earnest racoon face peep around the door it was like OH MY GOD, THE SUN HAS COME OUT!

Seriously, shout out to the mise-en-scene crew for placing that It’s About Time poster right beside Eliott during his close-up arrival shot because truth. Those hell weeks were totally like Titanic and Interstellar rolled into one: even though only two weeks had passed for the characters, for our reality it had been 84 YEARRRRS. But back to Eliott’s beautiful, earnest racoon face.

How nervous was he before he let the bravado slip back into place! And excuse me, child? “Need a hand?” Pretty smooth for a guy who has been leaving drawings of droopy-eared racoons around and getting ignored. Oh, to have that kind of fake confidence! He really had nothing to lose. (Was the wording in French dripping in double meaning too though? Good times.)

Guys, Eliott is really strong though. How did he have function left in his legs to walk over after being hit with that face…

THE MURAL METAPHOR:

I really like the way Skam France turned the common room mural into a metaphor for Lucas’ and Eliott’s relationship. The final clip opens on both of them examining it in silence, looking at what they have to work with and what can be done to fix it. Their first words to each other in this moment complete the metaphor with their double meaning:

- “What were you planning on doing?” - “I don’t know right now.”

Eliott is of course the one to nominate a solution to the ‘mural’ because he is the one who needs to fix the error of breaking up their relationship and hurting Lucas. It is up to Eliott to salvage that mess and lead them in a new direction (Lucas’ texts made it clear that he won’t budge until Eliott does).

So Eliott dips his paintbrush into his tub of emotion and flings his feelings at the wall in wild, raw abandon. (And he says they should paint with every colour because Lucas brings out all his colours and Eliott is putting all of himself into this. Ugly sobbing!)

Eliott urges Lucas to try it too. And his dumb, beautiful, earnest racoon face is so hopeful that Lucas will because that will mean that Lucas is willing to try and forgive him.

Lucas halfheartedly gives it a go but his heart isn’t really ready to commit yet, so his flick of paint ‘misses’ its mark (allegedly at least). Eliott can see that Lucas isn’t ready yet and needs to find a way through to him. He makes a joke to try and soften things further but all that does is manage to stick a paintbrush through his own heart because Lucas actually smiles and Eliott remembers (probably for the nth time) just how much he has missed seeing it.

In the face of that emotion, Eliott simply can’t sustain his bravado anymore and he confesses: “It’s nice to see you smile. I missed it.” For once, Eliott reveals the sadness that he normally tries to keep hidden from Lucas. His words have in fact stripped both of their masks away.

And even more emotional than all of that perhaps: this moment was a clear nod to the passe på meg scene in og. Even though Isak is the one who uses that line, what is actually revealed by Even in that scene is that he saw Isak on the first day he came to school. In Skam France, Eliott has obviously already revealed that to Lucas early on, so this line (the last remaining bit from passe på meg) seems to act as an extension to its original sentiment: Eliott seems to be revealing that he has continued to watch Lucas from afar at school and hasn’t stopped since that first day. He has noticed Lucas’ changed demeanour and absent smiles. He hasn’t seen Lucas smile for a long time. (It all links nicely with Eliott’s ‘In case you ever foolishly forget’ sentiment too.)

Like yes, technically that line can also be interpreted as ‘I missed seeing your smile in general because Lucille’s can’t compare’ but the use of the passe på meg line seems to scream significance… Eliott has noticed.

SAVAGE LUCAS:

As sweet and well-meaning as Eliott’s sentiments are, we can always count on Lucas to cut right through them to reach the heart of the matter... I love him so much for cockblocking Eliott’s attempts to open an intimate channel between them with his straight up: ‘You miss my smile and yet you looked sooooo happy with Lucille the other week. It’s totes amazeballs that you’re ‘talking’ to her again after supposedly dumping her ass.’ Like yassss Lucas, don’t let him get away with that type of seductive sentimentality! He’s not deliberately trying to lead you on but the results are the same and you deserve better than that back and forth!

(Beware, guys, because a small rant is about to start.)

Eliott’s response to Lucas really frustrates me. There is a pattern to it and I just can’t ignore it…

His response to Lucas’ ‘You looked happy with Lucille’ was “You can’t say that.”

Um, yes, yes he can. Just because Eliott knows he isn’t happy with Lucille, doesn’t mean Lucas can mindread… Like Lucas has stated that that is the impression he got when he saw them together and he has a right to that interpretation. Dictating what Lucas is allowed to think without elaborating on why he has misinterpreted it isn’t helpful, it’s actually really dismissive. Of course that is going to rub Lucas the wrong way. I am so happy Lucas heard that response and served up a sassy ‘Oh yeh? This will be good’ face to counter it. He was not having any of that crap.

But Eliott only makes things worse by saying: “Because none of it matters.”

Ugh again, yes it does, Eliott. It obviously matters to Lucas. He has just told you that he saw you back with your ex and is hurt by it. If he is hurt, then that matters. I know Eliott doesn’t mean it that way, but it is really harsh to be made to feel like you’re just being stupid and your hurt isn’t important.

It is a shame that Eliott has a habit of sweeping aside Lucas’ emotions without properly acknowledging them out of fear of rejection and a misguided need to prove him wrong because of it. We saw the same brush off in the cafeteria scene and later again in the kitchen scene. Eliott means well but I really wish he would validate Lucas’ emotions so Lucas can at least feel heard.

And like I get that Eliott wasn’t elaborating between each audacious statement because he was trying to build up to the surprise revelation he had in store for Lucas, but boy did he choose the wrong method, for me...

Back to their conversation though.

“It doesn’t matter?” Lucas rightfully echoes, for all the above reasons.

And finally Eliott has his cue (the cue he has been building up to during their whole exchange) to go in for his grand gesture kill: “Ever since I met you, you’re the only thing that has mattered.”

Cue piano music returning. Cue Lucas basically stopping breathing. Cue a literal light flare hitting the screen beside Lucas. Cue Eliott smiling because Lucas has finally heard his Truth.

And cue the return of the mural metaphor: while Lucas is stunned and left to process this grand romantic declaration, Eliott turns to add lots more paint to their Relationship Mural. It is like the tangible release of his sentiment; like his way of physically proving his own commitment to Lucas. He will work on this mural/relationship with everything he has, for as long as it takes.

The question is: will Lucas work on it as well?

Once Eliott has finished adding splashes of colour (because he is all in with his feelings!), he turns to Lucas to both make sure Lucas has seen how serious he is and to see what Lucas has decided.

Lucas’ response is to silently pick up a paint brush and add to the mural too. And if that is not the most powerful response… Some things need no words.

PAINT FIGHT

Well. When we speculated that Eliott’s grand gesture in the common room might be to paint a hedgehog, who knew that Eliott would literally be painting his hedgehog...

Eliott came into that room with the determination to get Lucas back. As soon as he got his sign that Lucas was willing to forgive him, his rush of happiness could no longer be contained and he darted towards Lucas with an impromptu paint dab on the nose.

It was so unexpected for Lucas, it allowed him to forget all of his deep-seated Lucille insecurities for the moment and fall back into that easy, old, familiar rhythm with Eliott. It must have been such a relief to suspend the recent heaviness and just be together like that again, as dumb, playful, carefree teenagers.

And because they are dumb, playful, carefree teenagers, their paint fight escalates. It gets more physical, it gets more exciting, their hearts start to race more… And in a brief stalemate, they get caught in each other’s eyes and their play-fighting drops away to reveal what it had been substituting for all along: their desire to physically connect with each other and consummate what they are feeling.

And what an intense love it is to make you forget you are tasting paint and having sex on school property, where anyone could walk into that room since it is, you know, a common room.

Their love making (grinding, rubbing, being handsy, whichever method they were making love to each other with) was a literal piece of art, as others have already said. It was an explosion of colour in a world that had been dark for both of them.

I’m squeamish with paint and other questionable substances, but when I put all that aside, I can imagine just how amazing it would have felt to have that slippery addition to their sense of touch. Feeling skin against skin, body against body, palms against skin that is sensitive precisely because it isn’t normally touched is a very heady thing, let along adding a kinky lubrication onto it. Even paint-covered fingers running through hair would feel different with strands clumping together and exposing parts of your head to cool air.

Not only that but you’d be able to see the marks your hands are leaving on the other person; like you are drawing them into existence and -- dare I say it -- claiming them for yourself after seeing them with other people and being denied them. How alive would you feel with all those heightened sensations?

And what has been evident with Lucas and Eliott from the very beginning is how important touch is for them. Even during their first kiss, their hands were running over each other’s bodies and tangling in each other’s hair. Then their morning after kisses were filled with even more sensuality with their (basically) naked bodies pressed up against each other so that they could feel each other’s weight and warmth. This new lovemaking scene had all of that in it again. It was so vibrant and so loving, it was almost too much to bear…

They just get so much comfort from the physicality of each other’s presence. Perhaps it is that reassurance of feeling someone physically there, of not being abandoned, of every part of them being loved. Whatever the reason behind it, they are so compatible in that way.

It was a stunning scene to end the episode with. Especially the way the light kept increasing and engulfed them at the end. They lost themselves over to pleasure but they never lost each other in it. They both went there together.

And I felt that. We all felt that, I think. What more is there to even say?