#And the bitch that I had as teacher had a headache when we were meant to present it. So I stop in front of the class and I realized everyon

[dragoninahumancostume]

I have no idea what the adults in my life have done to me that made me hate them so badly but I literally can't trust them. Over 18? Yeah fuck off and don't talk to me. You're a danger to me having a good day. GET OUT.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ "the next time i see you, it'll be in hell" / "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me"

♡ pairing: connor kent (superboy/RotS) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / i was listening to 'esa hembra es mala' by gloria trevi so if you do speak spanish, that's a song rec while you read this fic. if you don't, listen to 'hermit the frog' by marina instead!

"connor please, you're giving ME a headache and it's only seven in the morning," his friend, jake, spoke as his hands covered his face, "wait, shut up, who is that?" connor asked, seeing you with a few friends.

jake sighed, "that's ( your name )," he spoke softly, "she's friends with everyone here. some like her, some can't stand her. it all depends on how she feels with you." you were schools resident 'popular' girl and had a bit of a following among your class.

"i'm gonna go talk to her," connor said. his friends eyes widened, "connor no!" jake screamed, grabbing his friend and pulling him back, "she's a complete bitch, don't do it!" jake exclaimed as he could tell that everything he was saying was going over connor's head.

you fixed the newspaper that had superboy's face plastered on the cover, "i just think that superboy could beat robin if i'm being honest. PLUS he's attractive because you can actually see his face," the day old conversation between you and your friends about who was the better sidekick struck up again and anyone who knew you knew how much you adored superboy.

"hey ladies," you turned to look at the boy, confused on who he was as you had never seen him around school. you gave him a small smile, "uh, hi?" you asked, "do i know you?"

the boy who approached you was wearing sunglasses which threw you off considering your school didn't allow anyone to wear them inside the building. you looked to his other friend, recognizing him as someone you had in your Calc class.

"just wanted to introduce myself, i'm connor," he said, giving you a sly smirk. you shook his hand, half awkwardly, "please i'm ( your name )," you replied as you saw the way connor gave jake a wink, "is there something you wanted or?" you asked again, not knowing why he was still here.

"no, just wanted to say hi to my future girlfriend," you let out a laugh, catching everyone off guard, "please, as if," you replied as you grabbed your friends and walked away, kind of taken back by the new boy.

"he was kinda cute," one of your friends said as you rolled your eyes, "uh, not really? kinda weird if you ask me," you replied, looking down at the newspaper, "well, i'm going to class, see ya," you said, walked towards your AP Lit class.

you sat down in the front, immediately talking to the friends you had in the class. it wasn't even five minutes later when connor entered the class, immediately smirking when he saw you. you growled, instantly annoyed at his expression.

"ah, so you've met the resident new boy?" you nodded as your friend giggled, "he's really nice. made more than a friends already," she said as you shrugged, "okay and? he had a lot of nerve coming up to me and telling me i'd be his future girlfriend," you replied.

she let out a belting laugh, "yeah, he told meghan from fifth period the same thing," you saw connor walking up to your desk and before he could make himself comfortable next to you, you instantly put your leg on the chair, "don't even think about it," you said, not even looking at him, "the desk in the back is available though," you smirked as you watched your teacher roll her eyes at your attitude.

connor bent down to your level, "don't gotta be so hostile, sweetheart, i know you like me," he whispered before getting up and leaving.

your friend, looked at you, laughing at disbelief at both of your attitudes. you rolled your eyes, trying to pay attention to the discussion as you could feel connor's eyes on you almost the entire time.

+

throughout the weeks and going into months, your relationship with connor didn't change. he arguably became the biggest pain your ass from the beginning of the day until the final bell rang. he managed to befriend a few of your friends which meant that you were around him at times.

you sipped your coffee as you were reading the newest article on superboy, "ah, ah, ah, what do we have here?" connor asked, taking the magazine from your hand, "superboy fan, huh?" he scanned the cover, a smug smirk coming onto his face as you snatched the magazine back.

"yeah, someone who's actually useful in life," you replied as he walked with you to your locker. he had never saw the inside of it and taken back by the amount of photos you had....of him, "aww, don't be that way, sweetheart! maybe one day superboy will actually give you a chance," he joked.

your annoyance instantly shot up as you slammed your locker and walking away, "see ya later sweetie!" he screamed. you stopped in the middle of the hall and flicked him off, "the next time i'll see you, it'll be in hell!" you yelled, storming off to class.

you walked into class, sitting down as your friend, henry, walked up to you, "hey babe," he said, a warm feeling crossing your face at the term of endearment, "hey henry, what're you up to?" you asked, seeing him looking at you, a bit nervously now.

"i was wondering if you were free-," before henry could say anything else, connor walked up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder. he had heard the conversation between the two of you and knew exactly where it was heading, "uh, she's not interested, better luck next time," connor stated, surprising henry with his sudden angry attitude.

henry knowing he didn't want to risk the chance of getting his ass kicked walked away from the conversation as you stared at connor with rage in your eyes, "what do you want?" you seethed as you saw connor's smirk playing on his face, "you weren't actually entertaining him, were you?" he asked in disbelief, "i literally hate you with every ounce of my being," you blurted, finally sick of connor's attitude.

his mouth hung open as you got up from the desk, "do me a favor and PLEASE leave me alone, that's all i ask," you stated as you walked out of class and deciding to ditch for the rest of the day.

"told you she was gonna blow up," jake informed as he sat down in his seat, connor still standing in place, taking in everything you had said. he knew he was being a bit of an ass but he didn't know you were that angry with him.

connor knew he had to make this up. he genuinely did like you and he didn't want to ruin his chances with you because of his shitty attitude. throughout the class period, he picked his brain for ideas until sirens went off in his head.

SUPERBOY.

he knew you were practically in love with his alter ego and he knew he could use superboy as a way to persuade you into giving him another chance. that is if he played his cards right.

+

you reluctantly showed up the next day, trying to avoid connor as best as you could. you were talking with a few friends, gossiping about the fight that superboy and robin had against a few low level villains in metropolis last night.

"hey, look at connor," jake whispered, seeing his friend practically beat up. you were taken back by his appearance as he had a few bruises on his arms and legs, "are you okay?" jake asked connor.

connor shook his head slowly, his body still recovering from the night before, "what were yall talking about?" he asked, trying to redirect the conversation. everyone looked to you, "someone was gushing about superboy, so please, if you'd continue," meghan said playfully.

"oh shut up, like you don't have robin posters all over your room," you retorted as you watched connor struggling to stay upright, "all i'm saying is that superboy remains the best sidekick there is. did you see the way he walked out of that fight scratchless and look at robin, he nearly died," you continued.

meghan instantly retorted as you noticed how eerily silent connor had became. you turned over to him, about to say something sarcastic towards him until he flopped on top of you, passing out completely. you looked down at him, "connor?" you whispered, "hey connor, wake up," you whispered, shaking him a bit.

"take him to the nurse!" jake yelled at you as you grabbed connor by the arm and pulling him against you, "fuck off, he's heavy as hell," you breathed, trying to steady his weight against you before walking slowly towards the nurse.

you made the walk to the nurse but by the time you made it, connor had woken up, "don't take me to the nurse, please," he whispered, "what are you talking about?" you exclaimed, "you clearly aren't okay and you don't look okay either," you added on.

he steered the two of you to the family bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit, "clean me up here, i really don't want to be questioned right now," he said, nothing cocky or playful in his voice. you sat him on the toilet, bending down to clean his face first, "hey, is everything okay....you know at home?" you asked.

he laughed, shaking his head, "these injuries aren't from my guardians if that's what you're wondering. i kinda got into a fight last night," you stared at him confused, "did you lose or something? these injuries look horrible," you replied.

"course i did, just took a nasty beating before i won," he said as he flinched at the rubbing alcohol hitting his arm. you muttered a sorry as you put a band-aid on a few of his cuts, "listen, i wanted to say sorry for acting like a prick," connor muttered a few minutes later.

you were taken back by his apology, "i knew i was being an ass but please don't take this as me joking but you're actually the best thing that's happened to me since i transferred," you remained silent, not knowing to respond as you put the last band-aid on his knee.

"and if i could have a second chance, that would be super dope, ya know?" he tried to say without sounding nervous, "you better not be joking, kent," you threatened, putting your finger on his chest and shoving him a bit.

connor flinched back in pain as you muttered a sorry, "i'm not joking, i'd really like to take you out for coffee sometime," he asked as he grabbed your hand and gave it a kiss. you agreed as you responded with a kiss on his cheek, "also, i had this lying around my room and figured you'd like it more than i would," he dug into his backpack and gave you a magazine.

your eyes widen seeing what it was. it was the magazine that superboy first appeared in and you had analyzed a few signatures of his to know that it was his signature on the front, "did superboy sign this?" you practically tried to contain your excitement as you ran your finger over the sharpie.

connor nodded, "i met him one time after he saved a few people in metropolis last year and got him to sign the magazine. i figured since you like hm a lot more than i do, you'd take care of it better than i would," overwhelmed with excitement, you grabbed connor by the neck and kissed him.

connor was taken back by the sudden kiss but awkwardly responded with another kiss as you held the magazine close to your chest, "i can't thank you enough for this connor," you whispered, your lips still on his a bit. he chuckled, "just meet me at the coffee shop near the school and that'll suffice," he replied, giving you another kiss before slowly getting up.

"now lets get to our second period before we get marked truant again," he grabbed your hand and held it as softly as possible, "you know how much shit our friends are gonna give us, right?" you said, laughing a bit. connor nodded, "nothing we can't handle," he replied as he squeezed your hand in reassurance.

[flowerbloom-arts]

Day 24; the Prophets

CW: References to alcohol

At the farthest edge of the forest near the party, the White Prophet had been throwing up in the bushes after drinking the party's lemonade, and the Black Prophet stood idly by to look after him and sniffed the glass the White Prophet drank from.

BP: Someone spiked the lemonade.

WP: Blegh... How could you be so sure?

BP: The glass smells like alcohol.

WP: Do you think someone would do that at a party...? Just... Just pour some booze into the lemonade everyone drinks from?

BP: Yes.

WP: But why??

BP: Some people think it's a "fun practical joke" to do at parties when nobody is looking, especially at a no-alchohol event.

WP: That's not a very nice prank.

BP: Exactly, it's not, it usually just ends up with people like you vomiting or saying or doing things they'll absolutely regret, not to even mention the hangovers...

WP: How do you know all this stuff anyway, Mr. Misery?

BP: ... Well, I must confess an old sin of mine.

WP: A sin to YOU, perhaps. I don't believe in sins!

BP: ... Yeah, sure. Anyway, I used to go to alot of parties, be abhorrently frivolous, and I would even encourage behavior like this, thinking it was just a harmless thing that would last a day or two...

WP: Hah! You? Mr. Resting Bitch Face? Professor Monotonous Teacher Voice? The guy who tells people to shut up and work their whole lives? A party animal? You never cease to amaze me, Tristan. Cam an, if you were such a party popper what made you into a party pooper?

BP: I realized my way of living was wasteful at best when the Comet nearly struck the Earth and almost killed it! I realized that if it really did hit, I would've died without having accomplished a single thing of worth! I would've died a clown and if there were an afterlife, would I have been happy with how I lived...? Probably not... and I didn't want people to have that same realization I had, so I became a prophet who preached about work and duty in the hopes to create a better future and make people feel like they accomplished something before they kicked the bucket.

WP: ...

The White Prophet wobbled upright and then sat next to the Black Prophet, adjusting his own sleeve.

WP: Funny. I used to be a working farmgirl on the countryside-

BP: Farmgirl?

WP: Well, yeah, I used to be a girl until that Comet came and gave me a second epiphany right after the one I was going to talk about- I forgot I never mentioned that... Are you... Weirded out, or anything?

BP: ... I've heard stranger things coming from textbooks, I suppose I'm fine with that. You can continue with what you were saying, Fremont.

WP: Okay thank you, uhm... So I worked on the countryside with my family, we were a small few but had a very big farm so it was work day in and day out, we didn't have fun at all, it was dirty and slimy and not in the fun foresty way. I was miserable there, it was routine with constant inconvenience that ruined it, and then the Comet decimated our farm with its heat. When it didn't kill us I realized that that life... It didn't feel nice or fulfilling, Life was meant to be enjoyed, didn't it? Those rakes and tractors and plows weren't intended to be part of our lives, life is a gift and we should enjoy it while we can, nature was made to take care of the rest! I wanted to be free and love life and love myself like I didn't before! And I wanted others to feel the same! I wanted to spread my newfound and joyous wisdom with everyone because what is life worth living if not to be enjoyed!

BP: But why is there life if it doesn't have a purpose for this green Earth we stand on? That simply can't be-

WP: Now now, remember what Moominmamma said!

BP: Ugh, alright, fine... It is such a strange coincidence, though, how could we come to such different conclusions from the same event?

WP: Oh you know, life has a way... Oh, goodness, I think I have a headache coming on...

BP: Alright, easy there. Come on, let's get you some water and sleep.

[babbushka]

Hi Mrs. Z! I hope you’re doing well, lovely. I wanted to request Flip teaching his wife how to drive. I imagine how patient and doting he would be looking after her while she masters this new skill. Thanks love! ❤️

A/N: I’m sorry to say this my dear anon, but there is nothing patient about Flip Zimmerman when it comes to driving, lol! But, I hope that you enjoy this chaotic ficlet, even if it isn’t exactly what you had hoped for!

(2.3k, cw: swearing/cursing, arguing, mentions of stabbing, blood, extremely unsafe driving practices, Flip making his girlfriend cry but for only like 2 seconds I promise it’s not really angsty lol) 

If Flip had to think about your flaws, he knows he would come up with a pretty short list. There’s not much that you can’t do, especially when you put your mind to something. He has always thought this, let the record show, he thinks you are capable and strong.

He also thinks you are an absolutely fucking nightmarish driver.

Bracing himself with what he has decided can only be called the “jesus!!”-strap on the passenger side of your car, Flip tries to hang on as you tear through the roads. There’s too much happening all at once, he’s got a million things he wants to say, but as you run yet another red light, all he can manage is to shout out a panicked, “Slow down!!”

“I can’t slow down! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” You’re just as panicked as he is, which is a much bigger problem because you are the one currently trying to navigate rainy roads in a two-thousand-pound death machine.

It is true, yes, that he is bleeding all over the place. He may or may not have gotten stabbed in a chase that ultimately led to nothing on a big bust that one of the rookies fucked up for the squad. However, he wasn’t so sure that that meant he wasn’t fully capable of driving. He had wrapped himself in a compress of damp towels and plastic-wrap, and he had wholly intended to take the keys when you threw what could only be described as a fit at the state of him.

Which is how Flip finds himself in the very rare position of being the passenger, with you behind the wheel, driving like a bat out of hell.

“Oh my god – you can’t just run a red light like that – who the hell taught you how to drive ketsl? You’re a maniac!” You barrel through another intersection as the windshield wipers are going a mile a minute, and Flip abandons the strap to light up his sixth cigarette of the ride.

And then, you turn to him with a deep scowl, and throw it right back in his face as you point out one of the biggest regrets of Flip Zimmerman’s life, as you remind him that, “You did!”

“I’m going to die like this. Do you know how embarrassing that’s going to be, honey? I’m a decorated officer of the law, I served two fucking tours in Vietnam and I’m going to die because you can’t – watch out!” Flip has to brace himself again as you swerve around a corner too sharply on wet roads, the tires screeching as you burn rubber underneath your wheels. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty, you know that? Pretty girls like you don’t go to jail like they should for bein’ a menace on the fuckin’ roads. If I were in a better frame of mind I’d give you a ticket – no, worse than that! I’d lock you up, house arrest, no more drivin’ for the rest of your days.”

“Okay fine, you drive then.” You snap, throwing your hands up with exasperation, abandoning the wheel entirely, “If you’re going to just bitch the whole time you can do it.”

“Ketsl!” Flip yells as he grabs the wheel so that the two of you don’t go crashing into a street lamp, “Jesus you’re gonna kill us. How’d you even get your fucking license anyway? Bet you smiled so pretty at the schmuck at the DMV and batted your lashes. You’re a menace, I can’t believe you.”

Yes, he was the one who taught you how to drive. Or at the very least, he’s the one who attempted. He remembers it as if it were only yesterday, and tries not to think that he’s watching his life flash before his eyes…

                                                        ~~~~~~~~

You had been waiting for him on your front porch when he came pulling up to the curb one day after work. Dressed real smartly, you bounded over to the driver’s window and he rolled it down enough that you could lean in and give him a big wet kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” Flip had asked, starry eyed that he got to call you his girl. He had a couple plans in mind for the evening, but he always liked to ask you first, because your input mattered more.

“You can’t laugh.” You started off by saying, which by all accounts should have been Flip’s first clue that it was going to be a stressful day.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because I was hopin’ you’d teach me how to drive.”

You look too hopeful for Flip to say no flat-out, but he really wants to. He really really wants to say no. But he’s a gentleman, or at least he tries to be, so he tries to find a polite way to say it, and eventually settles on, “…You sure about that?”

“Yeah! C’mon it looks real easy, and you’re a great teacher and you love me so much and I thought that it would be nice.” You’re determined, and he loves that about you in just about every other circumstance, as you continue on and on, “You know and then maybe if I get my license I could get a car and you wouldn’t have to go waitin’ on me all the time. I could pick you up from work, take you out to dinner.”

“But I like waiting on you and picking you up and taking you out to dinner.” Flip points out as he reaches through the window and pinches your nose playfully between his fingers, gives your face a little shake.

“Please Philly? Please won’t you teach me?” You pout and give him your best doe eyes, batting your lashes at him in the way that always gets him to say yes, and he sighs.

He brings you back to his house, and gets out and calls Jimmy, who he somehow manages to convince to bring his car over. Flip drives a stick-shift, and he can already tell that would be a nightmare in itself, but Jimmy drives an automatic, which he has a feeling is going to be easier.

You’re too excited to be learning that you don’t even question it, happily climbing into the passenger seat and marveling at all the dials and numbers on the dashboard. Flip slides into the passenger seat and hands you the keys.

“Okay, this here’s an automatic car. That means you don’t have to worry about shifting gears too quickly, and can focus on just controlling the car.” He explains, and you nod.

“How come we aren’t in your car?” You ask offhandedly, and Flip scratches at his goatee.

“Because I like my car.” He replies truthfully.

“Rude.”

“First step, turn the car on and check your mirrors.” Flip ignores the remark and tries to be encouraging as you turn the ignition and the engine rumbles underneath you. You jump a little, letting a happy laugh escape your lips at the marvel of automotive technology, and Flip tries not to be patronizing. It doesn’t work that well, “Very good, you’re doing great, you’re a natural. My girl, the natural.”

“You’re so mean to me why do I put up with you?” You chuckle, not wanting to feel like a dog who learned a new trick, even if that is sort of what it felt like.

“Love you,” Flip apologizes with a kiss, and checks to make sure the coast is clear before instructing, “Put the car in reverse, and slowly lift off the brake – ”

Either you have a different definition of slow, or this is going to be a lot harder than Flip thought, because his stomach is swooping up into his throat as you go speeding down the driveway, foot almost entirely off the pedal.

“Sorry!” You immediately slam on the brake, and Flip’s head smacks forwards against the dashboard, making you wince as your entire body tenses up, “I’m sorry, slowly, right got it, slowly.”

This should have been Flip’s second clue.

His patience manages to last for three entire minutes, before he just can’t take it anymore.

You’re out of the drive way now, having successfully avoided hitting the mailbox, and are now making right turns around the neighborhood, except that you really aren’t grasping how slow slow really is, and Flip’s seriously worried someone’s porch dog is going to be in major trouble.

“You have to slow down before you turn!” He grits his teeth, his foot instinctively pressing on a brake that isn’t there, and he wishes in the back of his head that he had rented one of those student driving cars as he fists a hand into his hair and bites the inside of his cheek, “Are your shoes filled with lead? What’s the matter with you? Who have you ever been in the car with that drives this fast?”

“You always speed like this!” You point out, but Flip doesn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah, on the highway! Not in a residential fuckin’ neighborhood – you know maybe that’s what you need, let’s get on the freeway, c’mon make a right here.” Flip instructs, and you let out an exasperated sigh and do as he says.

Ten minutes later, Flip is certain you’re going to drive him over a cliff, and it shows.

“Pull over – you know what, just fuckin’ – pull over. You don’t need to learn how to drive, okay? You don’t have to do anything from now on but sit there and look pretty, and eat some snacks. Okay?” He’s not shouting, not exactly, but his voice is raised with panic and irritation, patience completely gone out the window.

“Okay.” You reply, voice small, as you put on the flashers and hit the brakes, gravel flying everywhere underneath the tires as you pull onto the shoulder, away from the free-way.

Flip lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and rubs at a pounding headache that formed, as you get out of the car and begin to walk away. Confused and concerned, Flip immediately wrenches open the door of the car and follows you, his tension and panic giving way to an altogether different fear when he notices you wiping at your eyes.

“Are you crying?” Flip demands, his voice a little too harsh, and you wince from it.

“No.” You scowl at him, your eyes absolutely filled with tears that keep welling up, clinging to your lashes.

“Aw ketsl don’t cry – ”

“I’m not fucking crying.” You cry, before throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation and defeat, “Sorry I’m such a shitty unteachable terrible awful driver.”

Flip feels a dagger go through his chest, he doesn’t think he’s ever made you cry. Never, not once, in all the time he’s known you, and now here he is, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world, because he lost his temper.

Approaching you gently, Flip pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, kisses all over your face, at your cheeks and chin.

“Hey, no one said any of that.” He whispers, rubbing his cheek against yours, trying to get you to calm down.

“You didn’t have to.” You sound so glum, and he hates himself for it, because it’s his fault.

“Look at me?” Flip grabs your cheeks in between his hands, squishes them every so slightly as he looks you in the eye and says seriously, “You are a great person, with many, many talents. And driving…like anything it’s all about practice. That’s just what you need, some practice.”

“It was a stupid idea in the first place, I don’t know what the fuck I was even thinkin’.” You try to shake him off, but he’s stronger than you and won’t let you go that easily.

“You were thinkin’ that you’d like to be independent and I don’t blame you.” Flip realizes, chewing on his lip. It was the 1960s now, women were starting to drive in greater numbers and you wanted to be one of them, you didn’t want to be some helpless damsel not able to get herself around. As much as Flip wanted to be the fella to take care of you, he couldn’t fault you for wanting to take care of yourself, so he sighs out a gentle, “Let’s give it another go? Will you drive us back to my house?”

“’Kay.” You hear the sincerity in his voice, and you nod.

“That’s my girl.” Flip kisses away those unshed tears, and leads you back to the car, opening the driver’s door for you.

“If you yell at me again though, I’ll let go of the wheel and you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with it.” You threaten, and Flip only chuckles, not thinking you’d ever mean it.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

At the hospital, you sit on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. Flip gives it to you, and you pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the wedding band. Those days seem so far away now, and really, you are a good driver. You are.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’m just worried about you. I always get worried when you show up at home bloody like that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled, that was wrong of me.” Flip shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. God it really was a good thing you were pretty, wasn’t it?

“Think I just need a little more practice?” You crack a grin, biting at your lip and echoing a sentiment that he had shared years and years ago.

“Yeah, we’ll start with a couple right turns as soon as I’m free to go.” Flip replies, and you huff out a laugh.

“I hate you, you know that?” You kiss his ring again, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

“What was that? I couldn’t here you, come a little closer…” Flip’s hand cups your cheek, winds into your hair a little as he guides your face down down down to kiss him.

Eyes closing, you press your smiles together, knowing that when he’s discharged after his pain killers start to wear off, when you drive home it’ll be a far calmer affair.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

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[moonflower-31]

I Won't Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

(This is gonna be a series, so keep an eye out for this one if you like it.)

Summary: So imagine you're in the CM universe if you will. And you're just graduating from the academy. You're looking to join the BAU. You have hyperthymesia, the ability to never forget anything. Except for rare occasions. After the final exam, you run into one Dr. Spencer Reid. Eventually, you get accepted to shadow the BAU on a trial run as an agent. But you have a past that may endanger those you work with. Also, you love Spencer. Cause who doesn't?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (this makes sense only for storyline, sorry 😞)

Masterlist

Please leave comments! I love reading them ❤ 💕

~~~~~~~~

Nervous. So dreadfully nervous you were and am. But here we are. No turning back now. 

"Hello, cadets. And welcome to your final exam for your graduation. We hope all of you do well. The FBI, as you know, has many branches. 56, to be exact. We hope that for those of you who pass, that you'll find your calling in one of our offices. For those of you who don't, don't fret. We always allow you to retake the last semester and the exams. The FBI is in desperate need of new agents." The speaker in front of me is seriously loud. Though you don't dare speak up about it. 

Associate Deputy Director Gail Franklin spoke with such elegance. She obviously has had practice, you think to yourself as you watch the grey-haired woman speak atop the raised portion of the testing room. You couldn't count how many people even if you tried. And you don't forget anything. 

"Psst!" 

You groan quietly and try to ignore your idiot but golden-hearted friend who couldn't sit still. 

"Psst! (Y/N)!"  

You ignore him again, focusing on Franklin's closing commentary.  

"I wish you all good luck. Please refrain from beginning your exam until all test-takers have received their tests. Thank you." She then proceeded to turn and begin her trek out of the room, the click of her heels being the only reminder she was even here. 

"Psst-! Come on, (Y/N/N)!" 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Finally, you turn your head and give your dear friend a very annoyed look. "What is it, Gabe? Like seriously, you couldn't sit still through one teansy tiny lecture? From the ADD herself?" You tease, pulling out a #2 pencil from your bag. Sure, most everyone will be using pens, but you remembered that the test scanners prefered graphite.

Gabriel whined teasingly at your jap. "No fair, (Y/N/N)! I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends. That too much to ask?" He sassily remarks, flipping his floppy golden-brown hair. 

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help but feel a smile form on your face. You loved him like a brother. But that also meant he annoyed you like one too. 

"You couldn't have waited till she was done?" You couldn't help but question him further. It was one of his weaker points. Under pressure, he tended to get uncomfortable. 

"Nope." Popping the 'p' he blew a kiss at you. "Anyway, how prepared do you think you are for this test? I almost made it an all-nighter trying to cram everything in again. Fuck me and my terrible memory." You grinned and giggled under your hand. 

"Gabriel, I told you, if you ever needed help studying I would be there. You're gonna do fine." 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You didn't even have to study with that god-given gift of a memory you got." 

You bite the inside of your cheek, faking a slight chuckle. Everyone thought remembering everything was a superpower. Sure, if you call superpowered headaches and occasional dizzy spells a super-side-effect. 

So, yes, you had the 'gift' of having hyperthymesia. The disorder where you never forgot anything. Of course, there were a few rare occasions, like you could only remember a handful of memories from before you were four. But other than that, you had nothing from your earliest childhood. It made you feel semi-normal. 

"It isn't a gift, Gabe. It's only a gift in the academic field. And I'm lucky to have a 'genius' IQ." You huffed in response to Gabriel's little comment. 

"Yeah yeah, but you have a filing cabinet for a memory. So why study? You have it all up there." He asks, taking the test packet from the assistant that had finally made it to him. 

"Studying, as a science, is a great way to improve your memory, quicken your speed of processing data and important information, and you stretch your mind's capacity for learning. Also it helps me understand a topic better. Just like anyone else." 

You take the packet from the assistant and widen your eyes slightly at the size. It was massive. At least the size of your tiniest textbook. You could almost hear Gabriel whimper next to you as he saw how big the packet was. At least you all had three and a half hours. And it wasn't required to get through all of them. Just try to do your best on the written response ones.

You turn to Gabriel and hold out your fist. "Good luck." 

Gabriel sighed and gave you a smile before pumping his fist gently against yours. Soon after he made a dramatic explosion noise that only you could hear. You roll your eyes and shake your head again, turning your full attention finally to the large test in front of you. 

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. 

○●♡●○  

Remarkably, you think you did okay. Of course, you finished the test in the first hour and a half, but who's counting? Certainly not you. 

You rub your aching wrists from so much essay work as you exit the testing room. Even with an unbeatable memory like yours, your hands were still human. So they hurt like a bitch. 

You sigh and take a quick seat on the bench outside the room, probably sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of other cadets who weren't in your graduating class. But you tried not to pay it any mind. You were used to being the 'odd man out'. 

You check your phone and smile down at the message your other friend, Iris, had sent you. She wasn't testing for the FBI like you and Gabe. No she was a barista with some mean skills at mixing new drinks. She wanted to open her own cafe and Gabriel and you wanted to support her. She'd been there for you every second of the last five years. You owed her at least a little thanks. 

When you look up, you couldn't help but notice a tall, lanky looking man with long, curly hair walking towards you as he looked for…something. You couldn't tell. Probably a map. He had a gun holstered on the side of his belt along with a blurry ID you couldn't read from so far away. But it looked like it said FBI. 

You stifled a soft snicker. This guy could say he was a teacher's assistant and if he didn't have the gun on him, you would've believed him. 

And that's when you caught his eye and instantly you recognized who this lost puppy was. More specifically, who he belonged to. 

"Hi, uh I'm Dr. Spe-" he began, looking a bit nervous as he began to introduce himself. 

"Dr. Spencer Reid. From the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I've heard of you." You accidentally interrupt. "Sorry. I don't forget names easily. I don't forget them ever, really." 

Nervously, you rub your hand on your neck, waiting for his response. And surprisingly, it wasn't one you expected. 

Spencer widened his eyes a bit in wonder that someone knew of him that he hadn't met before on a case. And she knew which branch he worked in. He blushed a bit, growing a tad tongue tied. 

"S-sorry, I'm Cadet (L/N)." 

Spencer raised an eyebrow. He wondered why you didn't give him your first name. But he didn't pry. It was your personal business. And besides, it wasn't like he needed to know your first name. 

"U-uh yeah, actually. I-I wanted to ask you if you knew where I could get a glimpse of a map. Just so I can find my way around. I'm here for a 'lecture' that I'm helping give the graduating class of FBI agents." He couldn't help but brag a tiny bit. "It doesn't start for another 3 hours, but I like to be prepared." 

You smiled up at this tall nerd. And an incredibly cute one at that. He was so out of place you sympathized with him. He was basically you. In like, every academic scene you've ever been in. 

"Understandable. I'll be seeing you there hopefully. I'm a part of that class." You grinned. "But yeah, here's the map," you say, pulling up a digital map on your phone. Spencer leaned over your shoulder and looked it over. You couldn't help but shiver slightly at the sound of his breathing so close to your ear. It felt eerily calming. 

"Really?" He asked after he pulled away from your shoulder. "T-thank you for the map, by the way." He adds last-minute. You giggle gently and nod. 

"Yep. The test only started an hour and about 45 minutes ago, so I gotta wait a little while." Groaning playfully you shrug at him, crossing your arms to get more comfortable. You wouldn't lie, he was seriously cute. Of course, you'd seen him before on your secret internet dives. But in-person was so much better than sitting behind a screen gawking over a photo. An ID photo no less. 

"You already finished?" 

There it was. The immediate doubt of your intelligence everyone had when you accidentally showed your smarts. You sighed. "Yeah. Kinda hard not to with an IQ of 167 and a memory that pretty much never fails." You shrugged nervously, looking away as you braced yourself for his incoming doubt. 

"Oh. Hyperthymesia, right?" He inquires. You blink a few times and look at him like he just said something so foreign you didn't know how to respond. 

"U-uh...y-yeah. It's rare, but I got it. How'd you know?" 

"It was more of an educated guess. See, you bite the inside of your cheek when you're nervous," he points out. You in fact, were biting your cheek as he spoke. "And you seem unintimidated by me despite knowing of my position. You only grew nervous when I mentioned anything academic. Which proves to me you're used to being the smartest kid in the room. And having to explain why every time." He finishes, leaving you a gigantic puddle of impressed and embarrassed that he had profiled all of that from only a few minutes from conversation. 

"Geez, didn't expect to get profiled today. You're really good at it, you know. Well, I mean you would be. 'Cause you w-work for the BAU." You begin to ramble, groaning internally for suddenly turning into an awkward blob in front of this professional. 

Spencer smiled a bit wider and let out a soft laugh. "So, y-you want to work for the BAU?" 

You look at him puzzled for a moment before you remember that he'd been profiling you for the past five or so minutes. "Right, profiler…" you mutter. "Y-yeah. It's kinda been a dream of mine for years. Police officer never really appealed to me. I wanted to get into the real deal. Catch the hard criminals. Give myself a challenge, you know?" You rattle off, realizing just how comfortable you'd grown to Spencer in the short conversation you've had. 

Spencer nodded. "It was always a dream of mine as well. I was kinda groomed for it." He admitted. "S-so… any jitters at all? Did you know that t-the common feeling of nervousness or 'butterflies' is actually caused by the reduced blood flow to the abdomen. Your stomach's sensory nerves sense the lack of oxygen and blood and it produces the fluttery feeling you get before a test or before a big performance." 

You smile brighter. "Really? I never thought of that. I always just thought it was a signal your brain sent or something. That's interesting. I'm kinda glad I won't forget that." 

Spencer felt his surprise increase again. You hadn't cut him off. There was no 'Sorry I asked' or awkward asking if he always did this. You actually listened. And you wanted to hear more! He didn't think he'd ever find someone willing to listen. 

"H-heh…" Spencer chuckled. "W-well did you know that most people will forget 50 percent of the information you've been taught in one hour will be forgotten? A-and in 24 hours more than 75% of the information is gone. That's why studying is so important. It helps retain that information so it doesn't 'slip' as easily." He begins to rattle off again, quite glad he found someone who actually wanted to hear his statistics. It was a good cover for his nervousness about talking to this incredibly gorgeous woman. 

You tilt your head in interest, laughing gently. "That's what I keep saying! Yet everyone always asks 'Why study if you remember everything?'" You exclaim, making a whiny voice expression for the impression of absolutely every bully you'd had ever. 

A darker skinned man, who was much more gifted physically walked over as you and Spencer continued your conversation. He wrapped an arm around Spencer teasingly and nodded to you. 

"Hope this pretty boy ain't bothering you baby girl." He greets. "He's great once you get to know him." 

Spencer just looks annoyed at this man's sudden presence. "Seriously, Morgan? We were actually having a conversation before you butted in." He grumbled annoyedly. Then you remember the face. This was SSA Derek Morgan. You'd seen him in some pictures with Spencer. He wasn't too bad looking. In fact, you knew Iris would climb him faster than a squirrel did a tree. But Spencer was a bit more your type. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. "Oh really? So now pretty boy's talking to girls?" He teases, letting Spencer free from his suffocating hold. He then extends a hand out to me. "Derek-" he started. 

"Derek Morgan. SSA from the BAU. Yeah, I know about you." You grinned. He looked you up and down a bit in the same interest that Spencer had. That soon was replaced by a confident smile. 

"So you know of me." He said in a clearly flirtatious tone. "Don't tell me you've been searching up my pictures in your freetime, babygirl." He flirts. 

You roll your eyes and take his hand, shaking it firmly. "No, I haven't. Though I have heard of you from my classes. But if I'm honest?" You begin. "I'm really wishing I could forget that comment." You sassily respond. He laughed. 

"No one ever forgets, Babygirl." He grinned. 

Spencer sighed and turned to Morgan in annoyance. "Morgan." He deadpanned. You looked towards him and giggled a little. It was clear Spencer had wanted to talk to only you. Maybe it was something to do with the statistics. You had a feeling that he felt he was finally being listened to. 

"What? I'm just introducing myself to one of the new cadets." He insists, raising two hands up in defeat. 

"Did you just profile me without my permission?" You ask him with fake offense. He laughed. 

"Did I need to ask, sweetheart?" He asks. You chuckle. 

"Guess not." You shrug. 

"What's your name, beautiful? A pretty face has got to have a pretty name." He flirted. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N)."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, fully ready to ask why the hold-up on your first name when Spencer thankfully saved you an explanation. 

"She didn't share it with me either. Probably a mode of trust." He explains. Morgan shrugged. 

"I'll find out eventually. You'll give it away." He insists. 

"Uh huh, sure I will." You tease. 

"Reid, Morgan, we need to prepare." You hear a third voice call the two men away from you. You stand a bit on your tiptoes to get a good look at who it was that was speaking. 

Aaron Hotchner walked towards the three of you almost with a purpose. So much confidence in one man. 

"Who is this?" He asked. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N), Agent Hotchner. It's a pleasure to meet you." You greet, holding out a hand to him. Hotch raised an eyebrow at you in interest before shaking your hand in earnest. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard of your excellent grades and work in your studies. I hope to see you among the enlistees requesting the BAU." He greets, letting his hand fall back to his side. 

"That's the plan, Agent Hotchner." You chip pleasantly. Morgan seems genuinely surprised.  

"Wait, you're interested in the BAU? Profile me." He insisted. You blush from the sudden spotlight. 

"W-what?" You ask. 

"Morgan, that's enough." Hotch warns. 

"Leave her alone, Morgan." Spencer expressed. 

"No, it's fine." You assure. "Well, from the looks of your attire compared to your colleagues, I'd say you hate wearing formal clothing. Prefer to be comfortable. Your consistent flirty personality is mostly a show, as you wouldn't really flirt with someone you just met the way you flirted with me. So you either have someone in mind, or have a partner at home. And besides that, the way you greeted Dr. Reid proves you think of him as a younger brother, and you treat him like the brother you never had." You finished, a pleading voice in the back of your head screaming at you in hopes that you hadn't gone too far. 

Instead of being offended, Morgan began to smile and grinned, clearly impressed. "She's actually pretty good." He comments to Hotch, glancing to Spencer and then back to you. "You'd make a good profiler." He compliments. You smile happily and full of relief at him. 

"I sure hope so. Anyway, you should probably get going to the auditorium. The mics are a pain to tune and figure out, so I'd get it done now." You giggle slightly. 

Spencer nodded and smiled at you. "T-thank you, again. Cadet (L/N)." 

You couldn't help but blush a tad as he said your title. "Of course, Dr. Reid. Anytime you need directions." You tease. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What about me?" He teased back. You mock think about it for a moment before you reply. 

"Sorry, I think you can figure it out, pretty boy." You joke, winking at him. He smiled brightly at your sass, chuckling a bit. 

Hotch then got your attention very easily. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, (L/N)." 

"You too. Good luck on the lecture." You bid them all fair well and turn around to take your seat again. 

"Ooh, somebody's in looove~!" You hear Gabriel sing in a sing-song voice. You chuckle and shake your head. 

"I am not in love, Gabriel. You just started eying the pretty boy I was talking to. You know, handsome black guy?" You tease. 

"Hmm, yeah, probably. But seriously. I saw you looking at that other kid, the professor's-aide-looking guy, like he was a mountain of sugar. And I know sugar." He teased, sipping a coke he had obviously bought after the test. 

"Oh shut up. Have you heard from Iris yet?" You ask. 

"Nope. She's probably busy over at The Bean. We should go visit. Tell her about your rendezvous with Mr. Teacher's aid." Gabriel snickered. 

"No, we are not telling Iris anything. You know how she gets. She gets all protective, and then nobody wants to go out with me cause they're all scared of her." You groan, stealing his coke for a moment. 

Gabriel smirks at you. "So you admit that you like him?" He teases. You immediately realize your mistake and groan, covering your reddening face. 

Gabriel chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, sugar-tits. Let's get out of here for a lil' bit. Come back for that 'lecture' in like an hour." He teased. You bring your hands away from your face and sigh. 

Did you really like him? Maybe. It was probably just an internet crush. Nothing more. It wasn't like it could get worse. 

[anythingbutmar]

That’s my girl

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: As a karate teacher, you never thought your life would get more extraordinary after being a teen champion, but when you find yourself in the 60′s looking for your boyfriend, you realize just how wrong you were.

A/N: Ooff this was hard! So much to fit into a one-shot, i hope I didn’t miss anything! I used a chinese name for the mentor but I don’t know if I misspelled or something, so let me know if I did something wrong!

Warnings: swearing, mental hospital.

October, 1963

“Diego? Five? Anyone?” You yelled on the dark alley, unaware that your boyfriend had been there a few weeks before.

You strolled around the block and found a rude old man who informed you of how bold your clothes were “even for this crazy 60′s” he had exclaimed and you had felt the urge to kick him in the face. Great, thanks Five.

You had no idea what to do next but one thing was certain: you needed to find Diego.

December, 2018

You struggled with the keys as you tried to close the dojo’s door with your gloves on. Winter was at its strongest, which meant you had to wear uncomfortable clothes until you reached home. You hated it, it made you feel a little helpless in case someone attacked you, and just as you were thinking about that scenario, you felt someone coming from behind and you kicked back, right on the crotch area.

“HO-ly shiiiit!” A man exclaimed, and when you turned around you realized it was just the guy who cleaned the gym next door. You two had never talked before, but you sure had seen him walking around. You might have thought he was attractive if not for his way of living, gym’s were no place to live in.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I thought you were going to steal from me.” You apologized, covering your face with your hands.

“I was trying to help you!” He gasped for breath

You nearly laughed. He looked adorable with his eyes closed and his nose red from the cold. “I think I could handle that by myself. What was your name again?”

“Diego.” He pushed, recovering from the pain. “And you must be Miss Huiliang.” He extended his hand and you took it with a smile.

“No, I’m just Y/N, Mister Huiliang was my mentor and my friend.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” He frowned.

“Don’t be, he taught me everything he could. How about I buy you a coffee to make up for that?” You gestured towards his lower area.

“How about I buy you a coffee to make up for scaring you?” He gave you a flirtatious smile and you just laughed, heading for the shop.

November, 1963

“Babe...” You whispered towards the small TV in your living room, which you shared with your roommate, a 76 year old woman with severe arthritis.

“That’s your man? The one you talk about everyday?” She laughed out loud. “Then why don’t you go get him sweets? He’s right there on the loony bin!”

“You know what Ruth? You’re absolutely right, I’ll be back by dinner! Keep an eye on my lasagna!” You exclaimed as you ran to your destination.

Once you got there you realized you had no plan, just a third degree black belt and that would have to do the job.

Thankfully, the guards weren’t expecting a sweet girl with an apron to knock them out with two swift chops right on the carotid artery. Now you just had to avoid other people and find your love, easy, right? You checked the cameras and the sight made you sob; he was sedated out of his mind and they had him on a straitjacket. “Motherfuckers.” You whispered to yourself.

You ran inside and found a few unlucky nurses who were knocked out easily as well. It cost you a few minutes but finally you heard him struggling inside a door and knew exactly what to do. You took a bobby pin from your hair and started picking the lock, when the door finally opened you realized he was doing the exact same thing, which immediately brought you to tears as you hugged him, holding him close in case he would fall.

“Did you punch people to get to me?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my girl.” He praised and you enjoyed that small moment so very much.

That was, until you heard gunshots.

“Come on! I just want one peaceful reunion with my lover!” You cursed the universe before you started running, again.

March, 2019

“Yeah, she’s a twice under 18 champion, no less.” Diego bragged to his brothers with his arm around your shoulders.

“That is pretty cool, how did you end up with a sucker like him then?” Allison asked jokingly.

“I’ve always thought he put me on a love spell with those weird abilities of his.”

“Honey!” He exclaimed in shock.

“What? You thought I just fell for the knives? Oh no baby, that’s just a plus.” You winked at him, making his siblings cringe.

Except for Klaus, of course, who just clapped. “I like this one!”

November, 1963

“I just want you to know that I missed you all very much!” You grunted as you helped lift the weight from Diego’s leg.

“See Diego? You should learn some manners from Y/N.” Answered Luther when you could finally pull him away from the bulldozer.

“Shut up, team zero! Unstoppable!” Diego and Luther awkwardly fist bumped and you smiled at the sight.

Vanya gave you a small nod. “We missed you too.”

“Alright so what’s the deal with Lila? She moves like she’s been doing karate all her life.” You wondered, starting a discussion on her apparent powers.

After hearing voices inside the barn you left the Hargreeves to discuss while you went to actually do something about the newfound information. You stepped in and you saw Lila stepping on Five’s throat.

“Not on my watch, bitch.” You sneaked around until you were right behind her. “Oi! Why don’t you fight someone your size?!” You exclaimed before sending a high kick to her face, which she caught flawlessly, spinning you and throwing you away.

You landed with a loud thud and then everything went black.

April, 2019

“Not this again.” You grunted as you were sucked on a blue void, worsening your headache.

You suddenly were in the entrance of the umbrella academy, together and unharmed. Diego let you down from the bridal position he was carrying you on and embraced you tightly. “You’re alright.”

“I am.” You whispered into the hug. “Now please tell me you didn’t have sex with that mad woman.”

“Don’t worry about that, angel, I’m all yours, always have been and always will be.” He kissed you and you silently promised not to lose him ever again.

[simpforsnape]

Sincerely Yours.

Severus Snape x OC/Reader

wordcount: 2349

Warnings: none, minor errors.

Pervious - Next

Chapter 6

Many days passed after the encounter between Severus and Anahstacia. The conversations between the two were always short. Since the duel, Anah kept her promise to him. She bothered the hell out of him, but only to an extent.

Severus on the other hand loathed her since then. Every time he'd turn the corner there she was. At first, it was irking, until he realized how much he'd enjoyed it.

Anah stood in front of her magical mirror as she finished dressing for the day. It was the weekend, and classes weren't in session. So that meant a free day for the students, but for Anah, she had a lot of work to do. When she glanced at the mirror once again her appearance remained the same. She let out a loud sigh leaving her chambers to head to her classroom.

On the walk to the Transfiguration classroom, She encountered a few students. Of course, being the liked teacher she is, she greeted them all. Before reaching the room she noticed Harry standing at her door. He looked lost.

She approached him with her eyebrow shrugging in the process.

“Harry?” Anah questioned as the teenage boy quickly turned to greet her.

”Professor V..” he replied calmly.

“What can I do for you darling?” She asked while entering the classroom ushering him to come inside. He followed after her while the door remained open. She helped herself to her desk now eyeing the young boy who only stood there in front of her. From the looks of it, he seemed uneasy. Like he'd seen a ghost or something. Anah motioned him to sit. Her hands were rested on her lap, now waiting for him to speak.

"I've come to check on you.." He confessed with a serious face. Anah only smirked. "Check on me? Why is that love?"

Harry turned his head before rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, there's a rumor about you and Professor Snape.. and since you're my favorite teacher... I just cannot understand why you would take a liking to that man.."

His words were clear to Anah. She merely shrugged her shoulders. She grabbed the large stack of papers that were on the desk putting them in the center. "I've told you before Harry, Severus and I go back. Back before you were born.." She made her remark not bothering to look up at him. He got the feeling that the subject needed to be changed.

Instead, he talked about the upcoming Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. She was glad to interject. The conversation lasted for nearly an hour and the bond between the two only strengthened.

"You know, I haven't seen you with your friends. Hermione and Ron? Where are they?" She asked taking a moment to give her hand a rest from her grading. While Harry was there why not give him something to do by helping her? He only sighed while quill in his hand continued to move.

"They're on the field trip to Hogsmeade..." Anah looked up, resting back in the large chair. "You didn't have a signed formed?"

He shook his head giving her the now graded forms.

"I wouldn't stress it darling, think of it as a break from everyone else, You know?" She smiled trying to ease the tension.

"Professor V!" called a random student as they rushed into the classroom.

Anah's head shot up as she saw them.

"Yes? What is it?"

"There's a fight happening in the Clocktower courtyard!" The student endorsed, fleeing in a flash.

Not a second wasted, Anah along with Harry rushed to the courtyard.

She sped down the halls of Hogwarts arriving soon after. There was a small crowd that was formed. The students were surrounding two girls who had seemed to be Slytherins. “Break it up, ladies!” Anah announced quickly moving in between the two.

”You filthy bitch! You stay away from my Gabriel!-“

”Enough!” Anah’s voice overpowered the two students. She made the two back away from each other trying to cease the tension. Turns out the fight was over a boy, typical.

“For the lack of respect and clear violence.. 20 points will be taken from Slytherin. Now both of you go.” One of the girls still had the ambition to fight. With the girls back turned along with Anah’s, the student pulled out her wand ready to cast a spell.

”Everte Statum!”

Sadly the wand was pointed at the wrong person. The next thing the small crowd saw was Professors V’s body being flipped in the air. She fell back down hitting her head in the process. Gasps echoed throughout the yard after witnessing what transpired.

”What did you just do!?” Harry yelled rushing over to the Professor to awake her. There was no response. She was knocked out cold.

“What’s going on here?” All attention went to the Headmaster, Dumbledore who was accompanied by Professor McGonagall and of course Professor Snape. There was a silence that filled amongst the teachers as their eyes soon fell upon Anah.

“My Goodness!” McGonagall expressed while she rushed over to the young witch.

Severus didn’t let his emotions show on his face, but he was bothered by Anah’s well being. But why? He walked over to his unconscious associate before reaching down to check her pulse.

”She has a pulse.” He reported to the Headmaster.

”Well, What happened?! Explain yourselves!” uttered the Headmaster as he eyed the two young Slytherin girls, Jenna and Rachel.

”It was an accident! She was in the way!” Jenna shouted out of pure anger still on about the whole incident.

”She may have been in the way, Though it is clearly stated in the rules about using spells on teachers..” Dumbledore spoke hastily towards the young students. He then turned to Severus who was still looking down at Anah.

“Severus, since the two are under your house. They are your responsibility. As for the rest of you, off you go.” All students except for the two that caused the whole occurrence left. Harry took notice of Snapes actions towards Anah. The rumors had to have been true now.

And like that the students were gone.

”We must take her to Madame Pomfrey this instant!” McGonagall expressed as Severus turned to look at the two students who still stood there. His expression was darker than usual. The young Slytherins were fully aware of this.

”I will deal with both of you later.” His tone was cold and harsh. It was hard to read his face at times, but from the looks of it, he was angry and... worried? They were sent on their way only in horror to await their punishment.

The old Wizard turned his head. He saw Severus hovering over the professor's body.

”Severus-” The Headmaster uttered.

”I will take her to Madame Pomfrey.” He interrupted Dumbledore. His gestures were slow. He reached to grab Anah picking her up slowly as he held her in his arms. Her neck was supported by his hand as he did his best not to let it dangle. Her body was close to him as he peered down at the woman whom he thought he used to love. She wasn't light like a feather, but she was still easy to carry.

The teachers then headed off to the hospital wing.

The walk to the wing was relatively quick.

Once they arrived, she was placed on the nearest bed and was quickly attended to.

”We shall leave you to it Madame Pomfrey.” Dumbledore announced as he turned to look at the other two professors. The students would be arriving from Hogsmeade by now. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall were about to leave until they noticed Severus still standing by the bed Anahtacia was placed on.

”Coming Severus?” Asked the obsolete wizard. Severus didn't turn to look at him. His eyes were still on her.

”I will stay here. Until she awakes..” His answer was thorough. A smiled peered on the Elder Wizard as he left along with McGonagall.

Madame Pomfrey adjusted Anah’s head, glancing over at the Professor in all black.

”Is she.. alright?..”

”She will be fine, She’s just merely asleep. I say give her a few hours and she will wake.” The nurse addressed the comment to the man as she then dismissed herself from him, going about her business to tending to the others.

Severus couldn't find the words he needed to express how he felt. Why was he behaving like this? Especially towards her? Did he still... Love her? No, who would love a man like him? She would and did. His eyes wandered down at the woman until they were locked on her face. Severus was never the man to show is Emotions but around her.. He was able to put his guard down, be himself. Every time he'd laid eyes on the woman, his heart would plunge. Maybe he still yearned for her.

Perhaps so.

His thoughts carried on as he went off to find a potion that would wake her up faster. Boy did he already miss her pestering voice..

Not too many hours passed, Anah was awake and fine. Madame Pomfrey told her about the whole Severus situation. It surprised her, out of all people it would be him. She also mentioned the potion he made for her, allowing her to wake up faster. Again, she was stunned by his kind gestures. It was always rare for him to just whip up a potion for anyone.

When Anah saw the time, it was supper and everyone must have been at the Great Hall. She collected herself before wandering back to her chambers. There was a headache that ached in the back of her head. It was quite bothersome. When she arrived at the room she noticed a small bottle that was set against the door.

Another potion.

There was a small note that was attached to it.

”Drink this before bed. It will help.”

A smiled peered on her face as she noticed the neat but yet sluggish handwriting. Him again.

”Maybe I should keep this up?” She mumbled to herself. She did enjoy his attention after all.

The liquid was quickly consumed. It had a horrid after taste. She merely gaged. But she knew she could trust Severus when it came to potions.

Once she was finally inside Anah changed into a fresh pair of clothes. After all, she did have a long day... Sleeping at least. While dressing, her eyes focused on a picture that was settled on her nightstand. It was of a little girl, she looked about nineish ten. She had curly long black hair, that was propped up into two pigtails. She had beautiful brown eyes. In the picture, she was smiling, and about two of the child's teeth was missing. Yet her smile, just looking at it made Anah’s day.

Her smile faded as a sigh escaped from her lips. If only she was given a chance to finally meet her.

Anah left her chambers and headed straight to the Grand Hall. Surly she was missed.

When she arrived she came from the back that led straight to the high table. She made her way to her seat swiftly playing everything off. She was greeted by a few teachers who've noticed her absence. When she glanced down the table, she realized that Remus was nowhere to be found. Was it a full moon?

She sat back into her chair giving off a gentle sigh.

”Is something.. Bothering you?..” voiced Severus who was sitting next to her. He was eating at a slow pace.

”Oh no, It was just a long day. That's all..” She replied taking a sip of her freshly poured drink.

”You've slept the majority of it.” He shot back causing her to smirk.

”That wasn't my fault you see... Two girls from your house caused this..”

”You know never to jump in the middle of a fight Anah.” His tone was the same. She shrugged her shoulders taking yet another sip of the drink.

”Anyways, I wanted to say.. Thank you. For the potions you've made for me.”

He didn't look at her.

”Don’t mention it..”

She smiled while setting the drink down.

"Did you miss me at least?"

He shuddered at the comment before turning to give her a look.

That should have answered her question. He did.

The evening carried on as usual. The students were all dismissed to their dormitories afterwards. All teachers were patrolling until everyone was in their respected places.

Anah stood near the end of the Ravenclaws steps, watching as her house marched up the million staircases.

Before the last student was able to disappear an intercom came on. Dumbledores voice then filled the halls of Hogwarts.

”All student and staff are required to rejoin Great Hall Immediately.” His tone was the same but from the sounds of it. This must have been urgent.

Anah looks up to see the changed students now rushing down the enteral stairs in pure panic.

”Professor V!? What’s going on?!” A random student shouted out having her full attention.

”I have the slightest idea, now please hurry children. Something must have happened”

Once every Ravenclaw student was front and center in front of Anah, she led them all to the Great Hall.

On the walk there The Professor noticed everything that was happening. Hogwarts was going on lockdown.

All students arrived shortly after. Dumbledore explained that Sirius Black was in Hogwarts. No one is sure how he was able to get in.

”All students will stay in the Great Hall until the Castle is fully searched. Severus, Flich, Minerva and Anahstacia. I want the grounds of Hogwarts searched thoroughly. I will stay here and watch over the children until then.”

That was only the first wave of staff.

Anah agreed on searching the west wing since the Ravenclaws house was there.

She left the Great Hall withdrawing her wand along the way.

Tonight was going to be a long night after all.

[janus-manus]

Maybe Anxceit? Get some good punk x emo high school Au? For prompt, maybe something like- “Who did this to you? Was it Zack? If I find that fucker, I swear, I’ll kill him.”

Pairings: Anxciet

Characters: Deceit, Virgil

Mentioned: Logan, Remus, Roman

Trigger Warnings: Transphobia, violence, cursing

Words: 1905

Notes: This was one of those fics that just,,, wrote itself.

Virgil had a sharp mouth. He knew that. It got him in a lot of fights. Although, “fights” is putting it kindly. It would be better described as getting his ass whupped. He wasn’t exactly a big guy, to put it lightly. He had a skinny frame, and the only muscle he had was on his legs. That’s what you get when you spend your life making rude remarks and running for your life.

Today was one of those days where a single look told you he meant business. He’d woken up with a killer headache and an urge to kill, not to mention he was on his period. He’d gotten out of the house twenty minutes late, and walked into class as the teacher was lecturing. Out of uniform. Late. Not paying attention. Ungodly attitude. He wouldn’t be getting high marks today.

At lunch, he found a seat in the corner with the other weirdos. Deceit (Who no one knew the name of.) and Remus sat only a few seats away. The three were sort of friends, Virgil thought, but he never knew for sure. They never talked, they only sat at the same table, and exchanged half-hearted hellos in the halls. 

Logan was also sitting at the table, as he often did to get away from his friends. Virgil knew him and his group only by the fact that they were pretty nice. (Except Roman. He’d never beaten him up, he wasn’t a bad guy, but they definitely were not friendly.)

When Virgil walked out of the school with his hood pulled over his head and MCR blasting in his ears, it was gloomy and grey in the world. His eyes were glued to the ground, his head in a different space. 

Suddenly he felt a firm grip on his arm. On instinct, he ripped his arm out of his attackers grip, spinning around to face him.

In retrospect, it would have been smart to run. Virgil could run, he’d been doing it his whole life. But no, rather than sprint the other direction, his fist met the meaty flesh of his attackers face. 

It had seemed effective, the attacker, Zack, stumbled backwards. However, it didn’t take long for him to pull up his sleeves on muscled arms. Virgil was already in a fighting stance, ready to take the hit. Maybe, on a good day, he could take Zack without getting completely beat up. As already established, it was not a good day. 

Two, three, maybe four–Virgil never counted heads, he just swung at them–burly figures were standing behind Zack, already preparing their fists should their leader make a move.

It was then, that Virgil could have run, he could have back down. He could’ve said sorry, pulled his hood up, and walked off.

But he was stupid.

“Hey dyke,” taunted Zack, “What are you doing trying look like a boy, lady. And you was a pretty girl, too.”

“Yeah, Daisy, what a pretty girl.” One of the others chimed in.

“And real pretty boobs you got, girl, why’d you try and make ‘em go away?”

That shit hurt. When Virgil had a bad day, that was one thing. Maybe he’d go cry in a corner. He might just take the insults, or the beating. 

But today was a bad day on a period. Comments on his chest, name, and everything else…it struck like a knife. 

So he threw a second punch.

***

When Virgil woke up, Deceit was softly examining his head. He’d taken his leather, finger-less gloves off and carefully parted Virgil’s hair. 

Virgil groaned softly, his eyes still shut, slipping down on the wall that his back was against. Deceit’s hand carefully moved his bangs from Virgil’s face.

“Hey.” Deceit said softly, pressing his hand into Virgil’s cheek. “How do you feel?”

Virgil forced his eyes open, letting in a bit of light. He saw enough to make out Deceit’s face. His sharp cheekbones, the shiny burn on his face…

He closed them again. “Great,” he mumbled, “Just great.”

“Virgil,” Deceit said, his voice turning stern, “I need you to open your eyes.” 

Virgil groaned in response.

Deceit let his hand fall to Virgil’s, and he gripped it tightly. “Virgil, I need to make sure you’re okay. Darling, tell me how you feel.”

“I–” For the first time since waking up, Virgil registered the pain in every spot of his body. Bruises, cuts, and soreness. He felt chilled in the cold fall air, and realized his clothes were wet. It’s rained. “It hurts.” He opened his eyes, noticing blood on Deceit’s hand.

“Sweetie, where does it hurt?”

“I–uh, everywhere.”

Deceit chuckled, but his voice was restrained. Deceit offered a hand, and Virgil noticed it was shaking. “Can you stand?” Deceit said, a slight tremble in his voice. 

Virgil shrug and gripped Deceit’s hand. Deceit pulled him up, quickly wrapping him in his arms.

“Virgil,” Deceit said, looking into Virgil’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

Deceit spoke softly, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. His voice was full of anger, coldness, and the ability to hurt someone.

“Who did this?”

***

Virgil was not friends with Deceit. He’d barely seen him when he was happy, much less angry. Definitely not like this. He was gripping Virgil’s hand with intimidating pressure. His strides were quick and purposeful.

“W-where are we going?”

“You, darling, are going home.”

As they walked, Deceit pulled Virgil close to him, keeping an eye on him no matter what. Deceit had been to Virgil’s house only a few times, mainly to return DVDs and books that Virgil had lent him. However, one time Virgil’s parents had pressured him to invite Deceit for dinner. That was the longest conversation the two had ever had. 

If Virgil was honest, he barely remembered making it home. He could barely picture the door to his house. Before he knew it, he was laying in his bed. Deceit’s hand carefully traced his face.

Deceit lightly pressed on Virgil’s face, and he felt a sharp pain. He winced. 

“Did that hurt?” Deceit asked.

Virgil nodded.

“Can you take off your hoodie? I want to check for wounds.”

Virgil groaned, carefully pulling off his hoodie to reveal several bruises. His skinny frame seemed fragile.

“I’ll be right back, love, I’m going to get a washcloth.”

Virgil stared up at the ceiling as Deceit walked out of the room. He traced his face where Deceit had touched it. He slipped far into his bed, pulling up the covers. 

Today was a terrible day.

When Deceit came back, he carefully sat beside Virgil. He carefully wiped his face with a warm, wet cloth. “You’ve got blood on your face.” 

Virgil nodded. He felt Deceit carefully wipe a part of his forehead.

“The cut doesn’t look too bad. Nothing a bandage can’t fix.” 

Deceit’s small crack of humor didn’t hide the layers of anger and concern in his voice. Virgil didn’t know Deceit very well, but he did know him enough to recognize this wasn’t normal for him.

Deceit tenderly picked up Virgil’s hand.

“Hey, do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Mm.” Virgil said, his mouth closed tightly. 

Deceit’s hand tightened. “Who… did this to you?”

On one hand, Virgil was a petty bitch, and could rant on and on about Zack and his “gang”, the bunch of worthless drug dealers and wannabe-gang members. But on the other hand, this could go a few different ways if he did tell Deceit.

Maybe he would do nothing but mutter a curse under his breath, but maybe he would do something. And that would either get him beaten up, or if he managed to take on Zack, then they’d just go beat up Virgil for snitching.

But of course, Virgil’s thought was immediately fuck it.

“Zack. And his gang. Transphobic wrecks.” Virgil said plainly. 

Deceit’s hand tightened, but less in a reassuring way. No, this was more along the lines of anger. Seething anger.

“Hey hey, um.” Virgil’s eyebrow was lightly raised.

“Yeah?” Asked Deceit, clearly holding back.

“Don’t do anything… stupid? Okay?”

Deceit nodded, but it was insincere. He wasn’t paying attention, it was clear.

***

There was a bit of clearing up with Virgil’s parents when they got home, but Deceit managed to convince them to let him stay the night. 

Virgil had woken up to Deceit curled up on a blanket by his bed. The two ate a breakfast of cereal together and soon left the house together.

As they approached the school, Deceit grabbed Virgil’s hand. He felt a light blush rise in his cheeks.

They went through the day as normal (Although Deceit did sit a little closer to Virgil at lunch.) and soon the two were walking out of the school.

The day was, like yesterday, gloomy and cold. Virgil soon felt a raindrop as the two teenagers made their way across the concrete. 

Then came Zack. 

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but it probably wasn’t for Deceit to fling off his leather jacket to expose his black tank top to the world. He definitely wasn’t expecting him to be ripped.

Virgil blushed as Deceit handed him his jacket.

“Hold that, I’ve got some business to deal with.” Deceit’s face was cold and determined. It was kind of hot, if Virgil was honest.

“You should probably… not.”

It was as if Virgil’s words didn’t even touch Deceit as he shouted out. “Yo, motherfucker.”

Zack spun around.

“Yeah, bitch, I’m talking to you.”

Zack motioned to his gang and walked towards Deceit.

It was at that moment that Virgil realized how intimidating Deceit was. He was tall and muscular. And hot. Deceit took a few cocky steps towards Zack, remaining nonchalant and cold. 

“Who the fuck are you? What chu want with me? You tryna start a fight?” Zack stood tall (not taller than Deceit) and put on an angry face.

Deceit gestured to me. “You see what you did? Mhm. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Zack put on a sneer, obviously putting his few brain cells to work. “Oh, you tryna take care of your little girl, huh? You think she cute or something?”

Maybe, Zack could have survived if he’d made a homophobic remark. Or insulted Deceit’s scar. But no. He had to misgender Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t tell you what happened, neither could Zack. No one in the area could have.

But it was epic. 

Punches, kicks, even bites and scratches flew everywhere, up, down, left and right. You’d think five teenagers to one would be an easy win for Zack and his gang. That would make sense.

But as Deceit kicked, shoved, beat and destroyed every opponent, it was obvious who had the upper hand.

Virgil, being a gay disaster, could do nothing but watch in awe. 

The last crony fell.

There was Deceit, standing. A touch of blood was on his forehead (not his own) and sweat covered his arms. 

Deceit looked back at Virgil, and smirked.

Virgil, of course, was a blushing mess. As he stared at Deceit, he could swear there was some sort of magic halo around him. He barely could stay on his feet.

Deceit, looking back at the blushing Virgil, felt butterflies rise in his stomach. The normally composed punk felt his face grow warm with a blush.

“Wanna go get ice cream?” Deceit asked, breathing heavily.

“Sure.” Replied Virgil breathlessly, handing back the leather jacket.

[love-fireflysong]

Day 18: Photo

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Chris Hartley, Josh Washington, Ashley Brown Words: 1962 Rating: Teen (language bitches!) Author’s Notes: *Nickelback’s ‘Photograph’ plays in the background* Still alive over here! And it’s not angst this time! Amazing, I know. Big reason this one is so late is because after spending 3 days thinking about what to do for this, I still had nothing. And then I inspiration came to me in the shower so here we are: the follow-up to Deals and Arguments that probably no one wanted! Because lets be honest, if Ash is the one who writes ‘Ashley Hartley’ in her books, then Chris absolutely scribbled a heart with their initials by accident once. And that’s all it takes for Josh...

For almost as long as Chris had known him, Josh had always been obsessed with the idea. He wants to say that it started when they were in fifth grade, when their teacher, Ms. Franks, announced to the class that since she was pregnant, that she was going to be taking a leave of absence just before the end of the school year. Someone, he couldn’t recall who, had asked if they had a name for the baby picked out, but he could recall the response as though it had happened only yesterday.

“It’s still a little too early for names, but if they’re gonna be a girl, we’re thinking of naming her after a mutual best friend of ours.”

Ever since then, Josh had been all over the idea. Every dare, every piece of blackmail, every ‘dying’ wish was the same: “Name your kid Josh.” When he was younger, Chris would laugh and shove Josh away with a roll of his eyes. It was funny back when he was like ten or eleven, or hell, even when he was thirteen! He was gonna be a super cool app developer, he wasn’t gonna have time for marriage, much less kids. All of his time was gonna be spent developing super awesome games and apps that were gonna save the world! Or something. 

While his mind didn’t exactly change the moment he met Ashley the summer after he turned thirteen, he is ashamed to admit it was pretty dang close. Josh introduced Ash to him in their favorite fast food diner, and declared the three of them to be best friends, til death do us part, yada yada yada. At the end of July, the three of them were inseparable, and by the beginning of school that September, he was gone. Donezo baby! Head-over-fucking-heels for the little braces wearing, red-head that read Sherlock Holmes and Shakespeare for fun.

And unsurprisingly, Josh never let up on his demand. Nope, he did not! In fact, he got even worse about it. 

He needed to borrow a pencil for math? Name your kid after me. 

Can he spot him a couple of bucks for ice cream? Only if you name your kid Josh. 

When did the Battle of the Alamo take place? 1846. But I’ll tell you the right answer if you swear to name your first-born after me. 

While extremely exhausting to try and avoid, Chris was able to do so easily. He just started asking the kid who sat behind him in class for pencils, borrowed money from Ash instead, and he’d rather fail history then name his kid after Josh. Thankfully, after his first bombed history exam, Ash made all three of them do their homework together constantly, so the last one became a moot point. Barely.

Eventually, Josh tapered off on the demand, but not until after the start of the next school year. Most people probably would have stopped a few weeks in, but most people weren’t Josh Washington. When he wanted something, the guy stuck to his guns and didn’t give it up for nothing. Not that he stopped entirely of course, Josh still brings it up during dares and shit but it becomes immensely more manageable. He notices that he doesn’t ask it of Ash during these game, but when he considers the completely mortified look she gets on her face when ever he gets asked, Chris figures that its probably for the best.

(The fact that he not only stops that day Chris walked back into Ash’s bedroom and she’s as red as her hair while shoving something into her desk drawer, but that’s also when the mortification starts, he doesn’t clue into until years later.)

So when Josh walks up to him during their first period together with the absolute shittiest of shit-eating grins on his face, Chris is on red high alert.

“Oh no. What did you do?”

The laugh Josh gives is low and dark, and if Chris’s hackles weren’t raised earlier, they sure as fucking-hell are now. “Oh no, Cochise. It’s not what I’ve done, it’s what you’ve done.” With that, Josh proceeds to just slam a binder onto Chris’s desk, and he looks to see that he recognizes it easily.

“Okay...? I don’t see what my math notes have to do with anything.”

Another laugh, this one somehow darker and eviler then the first. Oh boy, those alarms going off in his head aren’t getting any quieter. “Oh, it has absolutely everything to do with you.” Before Chris can even respond, Josh is already flipping through the pages, past older pieces of loose-leaf that ripped from the binder coils that he hadn’t bothered to repair and and the newer notes with their edges still intact, and stops at the most recent. At first Chris doesn’t see anything, it’s all his notes about logarithms that he had taken the previous day, blue ink scratchy and messy all across the page, and then he does. And he absolutely blanches at the sight and hurriedly slams the binder shut, putting his face in his arms as he covers his head, actually whimpering as he refuses to look at Josh.

He doesn’t have to look to see the triumphant grin on Josh’s face, he can already imagine it pretty clearly. 

“Oh fuck me.”

The worst part is that he didn’t even know it was there in the first place, he never would have lent his notes out otherwise. Josh had been missing more and more school recently, claiming that he was having killer headaches and they were making him sick, so Chris had done what friends do for each other and lent him his notes. What he didn’t realize was that at some point when he had been taking notes down, he had drawn a little heart in the margins with the initials CH+AB inside. Something he never would have done if Josh had been there with him, but he hadn’t been, so Chris had zoned out thinking about meeting up with Ash after school to bring Josh his homework.

He was so dead.

“What do you want?” Though muffled through his arms, he cringed at how small and weak his voice came out.

God, he could hear the stupid grin in Josh’s voice when he answered. “You know exactly what I want, Cochise. What I’ve always wanted.”

Chris didn’t remove his head from his arms on the desk, but he did turn it enough to narrow his eyes at Josh. “Are you fucking serious dude? Really? You’re still on about that shit?”

“I will never stop. You know this to be true.”

“I am not naming my stupid kid after you! I mean, maybe I won’t ever have kids. I’m certainly not gonna if I have to name them Josh!”

Josh rolled his eyes, but the wide grin never left his face. “You don’t have to name all of them after me. Just one.” Somehow, Chris watched the grin get even wider as a thought came to him. “Maybe two, if they’re twins. Can you imagine? The twins, Joshua and Joshlynn, it’ll be great!”

“Okay, now I’m definitely never having kids.”

Josh gave a short bark of laughter. "Please, like that’s ever gonna happen. You wanna know why, Cochise? Cause if Ash is gonna want kids, then you’re gonna want kids.”

He couldn’t help it. He really, truly couldn’t help it. The image of little kids with bright red hair and glasses flashed through his mind unbidden, and he groaned loudly and put his face back into his arms to hide how red his face had gotten.

“Anything else, dude. Make me do anything else. I will strip and run through the entire school naked if you want, just don’t make me promise you this stupid shit.” God, if only he hadn’t drawn that stupid heart on his stupid notes, then none of this would be happening right now! He sat up in his seat at the revelation. “Wait. I can just rewrite the page and burn this one.”

“Oh, Chris Chris Chris.” They way Josh shakes his head in disappointment sends around a million different alarm bells ringing. “Do you really think that little of me? I took like a million pictures my dude. This shit is saved forever. I can send this to Ash whenever the fuck I want. I can post this on whatever social media I feel like and it will live on the internet forever, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Oh. Right. Shit. “I can’t believe that you can literally blackmail me with anything right now, and this is the hill you’re dying on.”

“So are we in agreement then?”

“I cannot believe I’m saying this, but yes. Fine. I will name my stupid kid after your stupid ass.”

“Oh please. Your kid may be stupid, but there is no way that any kid of Ashley’s is gonna be.”

“...I hate you so much right now.”

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

Chris hadn’t meant to respond the way he did when he found the old notebook he had bought for Ash years ago. He really hadn’t. He had just been excited to find out that she had kept the stupid thing after all these years, he hadn’t even been joking when he told her that he had spent ages in the store looking for it. (”It has to be perfect, Mom! I can’t just buy her any stupid old journal, she loves these things! I mean, what if she hates it?”) So he had opened it and started flipping through the pages, laughing with her at all the stupid misspellings and bad grammar that her thirteen year-old self had written.

And then he reached the last page.

Things had really been out of his hands at that point. Something about seeing her writing her name down as ‘Ashley Hartley’ had just ignited something in him. The images of her walking down an aisle, of them with matching rings on their fingers, of kids running underfoot, was too much for him to handle. So Chris had kissed her. Kissed her like he was never gonna be able to do it again. Them falling onto her bed had been an accident, though a happy one, as they both didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss.

Finally, he had pulled away and her giggle when she moved to fix his glasses had taken his breath away. It had quickly returned when his eyesight improved enough to really take in the image of Ash flushed pink with her red hair spread out under her on the bed, and he was suddenly reminded that she was going to be living with him soon! That this was a sight he was going to be waking up to every morning at the end of the month, and he had never wanted anything so bad in his life.

“So,” his voice is rougher than usual when he speaks and he can feel her shiver under him at it. He makes a note for future reference. “Ashley Hartley, huh?” 

He watches her bite her lip, and it takes everything in him to not kiss her again. Two years in, and he’s still amazed that he’s allowed to kiss her whenever he wants, that she encourages it even! “Be honest with me,” she starts off and Chris has never been told to do something so easy in his life, “what do you think of the name Joshlynn?”

He stares at her for just a moment, just letting her words sink in, and then falls forward to smother himself in her hair, his shoulders shaking he’s laughing so hard. Of course. Of fucking course he did.

“So he got you too, I see.”  

[alltheangstmygifttoyou]

Soulmate AU Part 6

A/N: I lied apperenlty we’re back to shorter snippets. I feel bad for Jester here, a lot. And Noah. But mostly Jester. But things are only going to get worse for her. Damn. I’d hate to be one of my OC’s.

Summery: Jester is a bit paranoid now that Malcolm seemingly out of the blue has stopped teasing her about Noah, so she confronts him, only to be told she’s already met Noah. But she hasn’t, she would know if she had met her soulmate right?

Word Count: 1664

TW: mentioned violence, manipulation

Jester was glad that Malcolm had stopped bringing up Noah, but was suspicious about why. He had been lording it over her that he was going to show her soulmate how much of a bitch she was for weeks, it wasn’t like him to suddenly give up. She was glad the constant reminders had stopped, but it put her on edge. Elena was glaring at her more often, which left her disappointed in a way she could never express. She didn’t really know what she had done so wrong to make them both ignore and glare so much. Despite how pathetic it was their daily passing of insults was the most she got to talk to people. Everyone else avoided her. Jesse also seemed extremely pissed with her, but that wasn’t completely unusual. Maybe trying to bring the two of them together had been too much. She was sure that the two together would make each other happy, if they actually gave each other a chance. They worked well together now when they wanted to rise up against her. If Jesse could just get over the fact that Malcolm was gay and there was a high chance Jesse himself was gay then they would be fine. If it hadn’t been for Mother Jesse never would have thought that way in the first place. He had been so excited when Malcolm had first started writing to him.

Jester sat at Malcolm’s table and waited for both him and Elena to come. If they were going to avoid her she would come to them. Malcolm seemed most upset by the fact that Jesse was homophobic, if Jester could show him that Jesse was trained to be that way and could change maybe he wouldn’t be so upset. It was chemistry and there were only two seats per table, and every table except for Jester’s assigned table was full. The two of them couldn’t switch tables without getting in trouble with the teacher. After a week of being avoided Jester had the perfect plan to get social interaction. She felt pathetic for this. Malcolm and Elena came in together. When they saw Jester sitting in Elena’s stool their eyes narrowed in unison. Jester would bet that they had practiced that.

“Do you want a repeat of last week?” Malcolm growled, but Jester didn’t remember anything happening last week beside teasing about Noah.

“Don’t you mean two weeks ago, and I remember that going a lot worse for you than me.” He had to be talking about when they cornered her with Jesse. That was the only significant thing they had done to her lately. That’s when Malcolm found out about Noah in the first place. Malcolm’s eyes narrowed even further.

“No, I’m talking about last week, when I ripped your bone through your arm,” Malcolm threatened, and Jester was sure it was just a threat. She didn’t remember anything like that happening last week, and it wasn’t the type of thing that one forgot.

“Sure you did, and I’m sure you’d do it in the middle of class too,” she answered and he sputtered. Elena stayed still, her orange eyes staring at Jester completely focused.

“I did! It wasn’t on purpose but it definitely happened. Right after we introduced you to Noah,” Malcolm sounded as confused as Jester felt. Jester crossed her arms and leaned back.

“I’m pretty sure I would remember meeting my soulmate Lockhart. What game are you playing?” She wouldn’t fall for it, she wouldn’t show them how much their teasing had affected her. She wouldn’t act desperate to know. Malcolm’s jaw dropped slightly.

“What game am I playing? What game are you playing! We introduced him to you in this classroom last week! He’s sitting right over there!” Malcolm shouted and Jester looked to the direction he was pointing only to see all of her normal classmates over there, and none of them were named Noah. She shook her head.

“You’re not going to make me act like a fool, I know everyone’s name in here and none of them are Noah.” Apparently her answer wasn’t enough to make him stop as Malcolm was motioning with both his arms in the same direction.

“What the hell Jester, Noah Treviti, blonde boy in the back, green eyes, messy hair. He’s wearing a light blue jacket?” Jester looked over again, but didn’t see anyone of that description. There were just the normal classmates. She looked back at Malcolm and looking into his eyes she could tell he wasn’t lying, but neither was she. Malcolm hadn’t known Noah’s last name before, she wasn’t sure how he would have found out without finding Noah. She looked again, but there was still nothing. She didn’t understand what was going on.

“What does Noah have to do with you apparently ripping a bone from my arm?” She asked, because apparently there was a connection.

“You seriously don’t remember any of that? Oh my God.” Malcolm exclaimed before going over and talking to someone, Jester couldn’t see who. Whoever it was seemed to be arguing with Malcolm, before Malcolm stormed back over without a person. “He won’t come near you, probably because of your little plan together, I bet this is all because of your little plan together.” Malcolm went on while Jester tried to figure out who the hell he had been talking to because she didn’t notice anyone there.

“Elena, I think he’s finally lost it. Malcolm’s gone off the deep end. I don’t even understand his mumbling anymore. Can you decipher this lost man’s words?” She asked the redhead, who had not stopped glaring.

“I don’t think this is a trick Malcolm.” Elena responded, ignoring Jester, who huffed. Apparently Elena had gone crazy too. Malcolm looked at Elena, then behind her to the door, where Jesse was walking in. Malcolm waved him over to which he complied with a sigh.“Did you do something to your sister?” Malcolm asked to which Jesse glared.

“No, last I heard you ripped her arm apart and I thought that was good enough.” Jesse’s response left Jester even more confused. So Jesse said he heard about it, which meant he wasn’t there but the information circulated around school. Which meant it happened and she just honestly didn’t remember it.

“She doesn’t remember,” Elena explained and Jesse rolled his eyes.

“She’s faking obviously. Now if you two gullible idiots are done wasting my time I’m going to sit down,” and he did. Mr. Workshire walked in and Jester moved back to her seat. She had gotten a conversation but she didn’t feel better. She spent all of class looking around for someone she didn’t recognize, for someone with messy blonde hair and green eyes but she didn’t notice anyone. She didn’t raise her hand to answer questions and while she did do the lab she didn’t do it well. The teacher seemed to notice her lack of enthusiasm and put a hand on her shoulder, one that stayed there long enough to make Jester uncomfortable, but she was too busy to say anything about it. When class was over and Jester packed up her things Jesse came over dragging behind a pale skinny boy with messy blonde hair.

“Noah, Jester, can I go now? She was obviously faking this whole time.” Jesse called out, while the boy who was apparently Noah seemed to be on the verge of tears. Malcolm separated Jesse’s tight grip from Noah’s arm and the two boys got into an argument. Jester didn’t listen, just examined the boy. She hadn’t noticed the boy all of class. He didn’t look familiar at all. His eyes sparkled a light green that reminded Jester of the moss covering a swamp. Maybe that comparison came to mind because the boy was now crying.

“Jesse, you made the tall boy cry, I think you should say sorry.” Jester called out, interrupting the argument. Jesse mumbled something before stomping off while Malcolm put his hands on Noah’s shoulders, who clearly tried to pull away, but Malcolm kept his hands there.

“Like you weren’t the one to make him cry Jester, what did you do to him?” Jester threw her head back at Malcolm’s exclamation only to drop it forward and rub her temples. She was starting to get a headache.

“I have never met him before, what could I have possibly done?” She asked and Malcolm began to rub the boy’s shoulder, who had begun to cry harder.

“Pretending you’ve never met him is probably what’s upsetting him.” Elena explained and Jester sighed.

“But I have never seen him before, what do you want from me? For all I know this is some random kid you’re pretending is Noah.” The two of them stared at her unbelieving before Elena took out a pen and drew on Noah’s face. Jester felt a tingle on her face and knew that it was true. She wanted to say oh but that would be like admitting she was wrong.

“He doesn’t seem to like that you’re touching him.” Jester mumbled and Malcolm went to say something when Noah let out a particularly loud sob and pulled out of Malcolm’s grasp and ran. Malcolm glared at her and went after the boy while Elena lingered, looking at Jester before grabbing both her and Malcolm’s things and walking away. Jester spent the rest of the day wondering about Noah, and arguing with herself whether to write with him. When she went to bed that night she couldn’t sleep, still wanting to grab her skin washable marker and write to Noah. But she was worried he was still in a dangerous situation, that he was crying so hard because the three heroes were putting him in harm's way by having the two of them interact. She was knocked out of these thoughts by the creak of her door opening. There stood Noah, she smiled at him, but he was still frowning.

[drjackandmissjo]

firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

chapter 1 --- next chapter 

Harry Potter fic masterlist

Set in the course of his Sixth Year, this story follows Slytherin's finest, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates classes and friendships and Death Eaters and a certain idiot plant-head Gryffindor.

Sixth year had started nicely: Blaise had been asked to join the Slug Club, and his mother had yet to find a new disposable rich husband and was leaving him the space to do whatever he wanted. Despite Draco's father being thrown in Azkaban and the sudden sulkiness of the blonde boy, the atmosphere wasn't much tenser than usual.

Sure, Draco probably was going to kill someone by the glares he gave and might have punched Saint Potter on the train, completely justifiable, and The Dark Lord had officially risen, sending everyone in a constant state of panic; but things were not that erratic, especially for a Slytherin Pureblood like him. The world was his oyster.

Which was why he was about to kick Pansy Parkinson off the Astronomy Tower.

They had agreed upon a seating chart that allowed all of them to maximize their brain capacities in order to gain as many House Points as possible. Since Draco was the Slytherin on top of every class, damned little miss perfect Granger and her habit of beating his friend up on the podium, the settlements revolved around the blonde and each individual strength. Pansy got Charms, her silver tongue finally useful on an academic level and not only on dark corners with older students; Theodore had Potions, his natural talent ready to expose himself in front of Slughorn, who had decided to keep him out of the little impromptu meeting on the train and to whom Theo had sworn vengeance; he would get Transfiguration, being the most skilled at changing various things in different states almost flawlessly and also due to the fact that he was the best behaved Slytherin. Amongst the members of Draco's Inner Circle anyway: Crabble and Goyle were bullies and lost causes, Millicent was as dull as a wall, Theo was too impulse, Draco was, well, Draco and Pansy was, for lack of a better word, a bucchinara. Only Blaise was polite and respectful and tried to keep his personal vendettas hidden and managed to deal with them without a fuzz, and that, plus his innate aptitude for Transfiguration, meant he went along with Professor McGonagall pretty smoothly.

Which meant that Transfiguration was his.

The other classes were not as important and therefore their seatings could be random, but for those they came prepared. Slytherin was going to win the House Cup that year, unless Draco revealed that he was already a marked Death Eater, which would've made them lose a shitton of points but nothing more. After all, no one had ever been expelled from Hogwarts during Dumbledore's Reign and Blaise was positive it would never happen.

But he was about to get his first detention of the year, possibly, if that bitch didn't move. That would have not been a great way to start, but deep down he was sure it would've been worth it. "Pansy, move your white ass off that chair at this instant" he said through gritted teeth, barely moving his lips and avoiding creasing his flawless smile. 'Rule number one' his mother had taught him, 'always appear kind and gentle and then stab them in the back and get them coins.'

"Why would I do that, Zabini? I'm comfortable here" claimed the annoying girl that was very close to getting hexed, leaning back with a lazy smile on her face.

Blaise had many great qualities, but he also had no room in his body for bullshit. 'Rule number two: never hit first but obliterate them after they start. And don't forget, never ruin a manicure.' He mentally counted to ten, trying to calm himself before he did something he might've regretted, "We agreed yesterday on this" he said, slowly losing his patience. He had very little disregard for those who didn't appreciate his careful planning.

Pansy gave him a poisonous smile, her bold red lips giving her extra points in the vicious department. "Change of plans, pretty boy" she said, voice saccharine and melodious that managed to hide perfectly her true nature.

'Rule number three' his mind recalled 'do not have witnesses nor explicit motif in case you do remove someone from this Earth'. That threw a wrench in his immediate future.

Breathing deeply inwards and closing his eyes, he imagined the petite girl being slowly entrapped in a Devil's Snare and painfully dying. It made him feel instantaneously better. When he opened his eyes again, unfortunately, one of his main causes of stress was still there, now joined by Draco, who took the golden medal in the 'giving Blaise headaches' category. His roommate was puzzled by the sight but decided not to complain and chose to poke holes into Saint Potter's head with his consistent stare.

Blaise wondered, not for the first time, what would've happened first, a make-out session in a broom closet between the Saviour of the Wizarding World and his friend, or a murder. Things would be less boring around Hogwarts if either event happened, even if the school was not boring to begin with.

One of the many topics he didn't agree on with Draco, especially this year, revolved around the blonde's complete annoyance to school life, despite maintaining stellar markings. Hogwarts was full of life and joy and unexpectedness.

Which was why Blaise didn't exactly want to start the year with a detention. "Very well" he said eventually, scanning the room for a proper desk to sit at. He would've avoided Gryffindors as if they carried the Plague, of course, but it seemed that the only empty chair was alongside one of them.

"Holy burning hell" he thought to himself, scolding his face into a bored and superior expression as he carefully watched Neville Fucking Longbottom casually reading his textbook with a Muggle pencil behind his ear. Blaise hadn't had all the time in the world back at the Hogwarts Express to see anyone other than his close friends, too much preoccupied to make a good first impression with Professor Slughorn to care about his fellow classmates, let alone someone as insignificant as 'Schlongbottom', as the other Slytherins called him.

"Boy oh boy, have I made a mistake!" his mind screamed.

He used to be lanky and chubby, but he must have definitely worked out during the summer, for he didn't look that way anymore. Under the shirt and vest, it was possible to see the beginning of some seriously well-kept muscles and, despite his slouched position, he an aura of confidence that he was missing the previous year. "Fighting Death Eaters in the Ministry surely left its mark, uh?" he wondered as he watched the Gryffindor move his head to talk to Weasley. There were so many of them that Blaise couldn't be bothered to keep notice of them all, but he recognized the one into his year as a general individual, blending the remaining white boys into a general identity.

He was almost immediately broken from his mind and brought to reality: "I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes" Draco snickered as he also noticed the only empty spot in the classroom, drawing also Pansy's attention to his misery. The witch gave him another vicious smile, before slowly and purposefully turning into her seat as Professor McGonagall entered the classroom. She had won that round, but Blaise was positive the unexpected outcome would see him victorious as well. 'Rule number fifteen, ogling a hot person is a great past time.'

Unbothered on the outside, he moved lazily towards the Gryffindor, noticing the surprise on the boy's face as he moved the chair next to him and took his place silently. Immediately he tensed, waiting for Blaise to attack him as his roommates had done many times, and it almost pained him to see all the confidence disappear under a cautious mask. But he had to give it to him, Longbottom didn't even flinch as he unceremoniously dumped his textbook and notebook on his side of the desk. He would've gotten a lot of dirty looks from his friends if he was somebody else carrying a Muggle object, but since he was Blaise Zabini no one said anything. After all, countless meters of parchment were as impractical as eating soup with a fork.

He also didn't miss the slightest nod of approval to ever been given him, directly from Professor McGonagall herself, before she began her first lecture of the sixth year.

And with that, they started.

***

Two hours later and with six pages of notes and the tiniest smidge of ink from a Muggle pen on his hands, 'I'll be damned if I have to write every day with a messy quill", the lecture was over. Professor McGonagall had done a brilliant job as usual, with her being the most competent, if not the only, teacher in the school, but one thing was absolutely clear as day to Blaise: the recently very attractive Gryffindor boy seated next to him was absolutely useless at Transfiguration. His grandfather would've used the word chiavica with a disapproving look at his way and forced him to sit and eat twelve different dishes, as if that would've made him improve.

The problem wasn't that he lacked the proper concentration and magical talent, but rather that he wasn't as passionate about the subject as Blaise was. The boy had also taken countless notes, writing them at the corners of his book in a minute calligraphy with his Muggle graphite, and he seemed to grasp the general concept, yet failed almost comically at properly producing the magic.

Needless to say, the Slytherin dreaded the day his favourite teacher would give them a project to be done in pairs.

Not a single word had been uttered between the two boys, as it should have been. They had no communal interests nor any shared group of acquaintances, even if they were both Purebloods. Their Houses were rivals, their roommates were arch-nemesis, and yet here they both were, seated in silence next to each other.

But there had been guarded glances from both sides, of that he was sure. He looked at the Gryffindor with fretted disinterest, desperately trying not to get caught staring at the hot guy next to him like a creep, while Longbottom looked occasionally back with something akin of fear and disdain. He wasn't really surprised by the reaction and couldn't really blame him. Blaise wasn't sure if his family had remained neutral or had been hurt at the hands of Death Eaters before Saint Potter saved everyone, but nevertheless, the Slytherin house suffered an image decline due to their notorious works. The House reputation was turbid and getting dirtier by the hour, with all the alumni tarnishing the good name of their former house with their debauchery. Of course, not all Slytherins were evil, but it was the fucking coincidence of the majority of those evildoers being Slytherins that gave way to all the hate.

"You're just giving into the stereotype" he had ranted at Draco on the train, after the blonde told him the news, "and yours is such a bloody shitton of bullshit l cannot tolerate anymore!"

And just like that, the class was over and students packed their bags to migrate into their next lecture. He had now a free period, as the majority of his friends took Divination for reasons unknown to him, and decided to make it count as much as possible by staying in the library before going to 6th year History of Magic.

After signalling a little goodbye to his housemates, he turned around to the pretty useless boy next to him to begrudgingly salute him as well and perhaps ask him to trade place with someone less inept at the subject, only to find said incredibly tall and gorgeous beefcake standing in all his height with a bag draped over his shoulder. Despite the sudden tough exterior, he had a kind and polite smile and a softness in his voice that Blaise would've never guessed. "Apparently we have to seat next to each other now" he said with a shy tone, and then immediately went to nervously bite his lips. Blaise was dumbfounded, unable to form words at the sight hovering over him. He definitely wasn't the lanky boy he remembered.

Unsettled by his lack of response and probably taking his silence as a sign of disgust, Longbottom let out a shaky laugh, trying to ease the tension. Bringing a hand up to scratch his neck. "Look, I get it if you want to switch" he began, looking down at his shoes, "but I don't think Professor McGonagall would let us."

That brought him back on Earth. He had not mistaken the look of approval the Professor had given him and he'd be damned if he ever let down the best teacher Hogwarts had ever seen over something so futile as a seating partner.

Also it didn't hurt that his deskmate was a bloody vision, incompetent maybe, but most definitely his type. And now more than ever he needed to know for which team this asshole beat for.

"Yeah, no. I know, it's fine or whatever" he stuttered nonchalantly, knowing that he sounded dismissal while on the inside he was a bubbling mess. Trying to regain his composure and to remember his reputation, he spat out with as little venom as possible, "I guess there could be worse of you lot to sit next to."

"Wrong. Fucking. Thing. To. Say. Genius" his mind yelled as he internally cringed at his choice of words while maintaining a disinterested exterior. He saw the exact moment Longbottom's face went from kind and polite to pissed off. In all the years they had spent at school together they had never really talked or acknowledged each other's existence, not as much as he had with members of the other two Houses, yet Longbottom would've never stroke him as the type of person that could get angry.

"That's cause you never spoke to him until now. Stop thinking with your dick" his brain fired as he rose from his seat and stood a few centimetres short of the Gryffindor. He had to admit that it was incredibly hard to stop thinking with his dick at the moment, but managed to maintain a neutral expression.

"Yeah, well. I guess so too" replied rather childishly the other boy, folding his arms over his chest and giving him what must've been his best glare.  "I was trying to be polite, but I guess there is no way for a civilized conversation or partnership with you lot" he retorted, raising an eyebrow.

Now it was Blaise's turn to appear pissed and he mustered his worst killing glare, created by years of training,  "Do not generalize me and I won't generalize you."

Longbottom was looking down at him, almost as if he was a puzzle that was not behaving. He supposed that from his perspective it was like that, since generally speaking they were supposed to hate each other's guts and here they were, one clearly trying not to lust for the other and the other apparently disapproving of the one's entire existence.

He eventually conceded, "Very well. See you around, Zabini." And with that Longbottom left, joining Thomas and that Fire Kid from his House.

Blaise was left alone, baffled and shocked, before he shook violently his head and left also the classroom and began walking in solitude towards the library.

This had the potential to become a great or a terrible year, and he supposed that the majority of the chances rested on the unexpected outcome of the Transfiguration class.

GLOSSARY: 

'bucchinara' is a southern Italian word that means 'someone who gives blowjobs'

'chiavica' is a southern Italian word that means 'someone that really really sucks at something'

[whats-the-story-tc]

26th-28th of April, 2020

"The Ones with the Series of Unfortunate Events"

[LONG AS FUCK SORRY]

After what happened on Saturday, I could barely fall asleep at night. I had a splitting headache from all the crying and genuinely felt like shit. Morning came, and I immediately reached for my phone. Nothing from her. It still being quite early, I tried to go back to sleep, and spent a full hour tossing and turning, a head full of thoughts, until I couldn't take it anymore. I turned my phone on and checked the notification bar, only to see a very familiar name and face.

I submitted my essay to her already, way before it was due, so when she actually assigned it in Google Classroom, I just pressed 'Mark as done' and thought I was good to go. V has obviously seen it (two links here). And, even though I didn't submit jackshit this time, she still felt the need to send me a "Thank you :)". I was overjoyed. FINALLY. So, as I explained here already, I had an impulse thought and decided to respond. "And thank YOU for the "task". I had a lot of fun with it. (I mean, the [poet's name] one.) If you're ever curious about anything of this sort, don't keep it to yourself :)" Of course, I regretted it as soon as I sent it. And, of course, I knew I wouldn't get an answer.

I promptly took a full day of rest after that, like I was trying to recover from a bad break-up. I didn't expect to hear from her again the next day.

Monday morning. New notification. Same old love of my life. She assigned us a project we'd already spoken about last week — to reinterpret a monologue from the play I read, the one V really likes, in any shape or form. Painting, video, prose, or, to quote V: "tiktok (not that I know how that works, but it's your choice)". She also said that she wants to keep what we make, maybe even share them with our Geo/Art teacher. I got even mote excited than when she first announced this. I knew I wanted to draw something, to show her a side of me she'd never seen before. I'm starting it on Friday. Doing a bit of painting, too. Wish me luck.

At around 2 PM that same day, Pocketwatch Friend noticed V's reply to her essay and asked me how she should respond to her. Found it quite funny, not gonna lie, knowing my history with replies. And as my friends told me about the responses they got, I realised a fundamental difference. All of them were skimmed over going into detail. They noted them fine, but didn't take the time to explain why they were noteworthy. So basically, they lacked content. Meanwhile the only things she spent paragraphs pointing out about my essay were miniscule stylistic mistakes. This gave me a fair bit of reassurance about what I do. I did enough. I was enough.

Come Tuesday, I was a nervous wreck to say the least. I always am, when it comes to online classes, but especially so when I have class with V. I walked up-and-down in the room, listening to her talk, not daring to say a word. God, I wish I kept to that.

Before I get to the part where y'all laugh at my misery, a teensy bit of prelude. Here I mentioned that the first time I had spoken to V after class, the 11th of October, 2018, we spoke about Hamlet. In short, I was a bit oblivious, and didn't really know how to recognise the Oedipus complex I've seen associated with the play. We were covering the story of Oedipus anyway, so I trotted up to her after class to talk. I remember the afternoon Sun shining really bright that day, and V being very relaxed and fully in her element as she spoke, leaning against my desk (that I wasn't sitting at by then). I went home smiling, unable to get her out of my head after that. It should've been clear from that day.

Now, on to class. There were a lot of good bits, a lot of interesting bits... but I don't want to talk about those now.

Last ten minutes, V asks if there are any questions. "I might just have one." I said, and immediately regretted it, even though I could hear the smile in V's voice as she said "Off you go". Theatre/Literature buffs, I'm sure you'll know the line "Frailty, thy name is woman!" from, you guessed it, Hamlet. Now, in the poem we were talking about, there was a line with the exact same structure, only with different words in the place of frailty and woman. I tried to twist it and see if V made that same association, but luck didn't favour me that day. V had no last clue what I meant when I said the quote was familiar. I tried to explain it to the best of my abilities, though I didn't remember the exact Hamlet quote. Neither did V. "I don't really know Hamlet by heart." "Neither do I!" I tried to counter, but just made it more awkward. Bless her soul, V googled it there and then, but just by me saying it was said to Gertrude, it brought up another play with another Gertrude — coincidentally, the one V stroke up a conversation about with me on the very last day of actual school. Those being the results made V laugh, so at least that's a win from my part. I ended up looking it up myself, trying to remember the quote, and ended up answering my own damn question. "So it was the grammatical structure, then?" V asked, with that very same peace in her voice as last year, and I excitedly replied "Yes!". Conversation over. And even though she genuinely sounded interested, I hated myself for bringing up a totally unnecessary thing. Though I hope that I made V "pull [Hamlet] off the top shelf" after class, as she said she might, were it not for me finding the answer.

I was already feeling horrible. Then, V brought up the assignments mentioned earlier and sounded really excited about it, starting to list what she imagined us doing. "A rewrite of the scene in the play..." and as she was saying my name, I grinned and asked her "Was this an indirect reference?". I needed no further convincing that she, indeed, read what I texted her. But here comes the part I laugh at now, but right then it was horrible. She actually chuckled at my teasing question, and God I wish I remembered what she said. Then I said: "I was actually planning on something else, but..." because I found it an interesting idea, and I have been meaning to do that, too. And that's where it got awkward. V, the usually unfaltering and confident V, was startled. Proper startled that she might have accidentally changed my mind. She started saying "oh, no, I didn't mean it like that, I was just trying to predict things..." and that made me worried, so after the oh no, I immediately started rambling "no, no, of course, I know what you meant, I understand". So there we were, talking over each other, both of us a nervous mess that we may have said something wrong we didn't mean. Right now, I find it absolutely hilarious, because how on Earth did we manage that?? But there and then?

I started crying. Silently, of course, not to worry her even further. (I didn't want to turn my mic off because I was scared it would malfunction again.) But I was so tense, that all my gasoline pool of nerves needed was this little spark of awkward, and it caught flame. I stood there, tears streaming down my cheeks, blaming myself for speaking and thinking I should've just shut up.

Soon after, V told us not to stress about the assignment, because "it's just homework". Everybody's favourite Cynical Twat, who is even worse at social situations than I am, tried to express he was glad to hear that, but did so in a very confusing and sarcastic way that V didn't really understand. "It would be pretty shitty of me" to make us stress, she said. So I dried my tears and jumped in, because she deserved to hear the compliment. "I don't mean to speak for [Cynical Twat], but I think he meant that we're all glad you said that. Not many people do it like that." I told her something along the lines of that. "Oh, okay." she said, disbelief thick in her voice. Hey, V. We bloody love you. It's time you start believing it.

Class ended soon after, and I spent about twenty minutes sobbing and cursing myself. The message from Pocketwatch Friend saying "I can't believe [V] replies to everything" as they were talking about her essay, only made it worse.

That night, I had a conversation with one of my underclassmen I talk to every once in a blue moon. We were discussing school and teachers, and I intentionally didn't bring up V. I waited for her to. Though, okay, I did provoke it a teensy bit, but just slightly. So, we talk about her, and through the things the girl says, I find out that... heh, of course, I'm not the only one she strikes up convos with. Turns out, after a joke, V even winked at her! (Okay, she did that to me once, too, when I stood up for her in class, but that's not the point.) After that, I was carrying the convo on just fine, but inwards, I was spiralling into a great big void of 'You ain't special to her, bitch, the fuck were you thinking'. The girl ended the conversation with "the woman's weird (...) but that's how we love her". Right. Yeah.

Now, two days later at current, I'm back in the room where all the crying went down. Bit surreal, thinking back. I'm sure I won't forget this for quite a while. Will my unlucky strike stop anytime soon? I don't know. We'll see. But I don't think anything could surprise me anymore.

You may take that as a challenge, V.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

[dead-inside-cx]

Izukus Week Part (2/2)

“Kaachan calm down!!!!!” Izuku was freaking the fuck out. He had opened up to Katsuki about what happened, and well he should have expected him to blow the fuck up. “I am going to murder that icy hot bastard. HOW DARE HE!!!” To say Katsuki was pissed well that was an understatement. He was seeing red. He was ready to commit murder.

“Kaachan please calm down.” “That bastard put his hands on you! He kissed you and made you cry. I will not fucking calm down Izuku.” Katsuki looked at his boyfriend. He saw the scared expression and reluctantly calmed down just a little. “Fuck fine. Stop making that face.” He hated making Izuku sad, mad or scared. Especially scared.

Izuku was quick to grab the boy into a tight hug. Katsuki hugged him back. “I know your mad baby but please...Please don’t murder him. He’s still my friend.” Izuku spoke softly. “Okay. Fine. I won’t murder him but I’m going to punch him in the face and you can’t say no.” He kissed the boys head. “Fine, one punch. But if you get house arrest I’m not cuddling you.” He could hear the smirk in his voice. “Oi you little shit I better get my cuddles or else ill tell Auntie.” “Wait Kaachan nooo! Dont call my mum!!!!!!” Izuku pouted at his boyfriend. Katsuki kissed the pout. “Cute.” He smiled at the blush that appeared on his boyfriends cheeks. “Meany.” Katsuki just laughed before frowning again. “Baby are you okay? And don’t fucking lie to me.” He saw tears well up in his boyfriends eyes and he wiped the few that escaped.

“K-Kaachan...I-I’m sorry...” Izuku broke down crying. Katsuki dragged him back to the bed and pulled him down into a tight cuddle position. “Shh its okay baby. I know its not your fault for ANY of this. Okay so don’t blame yourself.” He gently rubbed his back.

He was going to kill that bastard when he saw him next. How dare he hurt and upset his baby? He looked at Izuku. For now his main focus was to look after the boy in front of him. Everything else could wait. House arrest was going to so fucking worth it.

 ~A few hours later~

Katsuki left the now sleeping boy in his room asleep. He was on a mission and he was going to complete it. He did not fucking care. “Oi shitty hair. Where the fuck is that candy cane bitch boy?” Kirishima looked at the angry blonde in front of him. If he was being honest he was a little terrified, of how angry he was.

“Do you mean Todoroki? Last I saw he was with Uraraka and Lida. Are you okay?” Kirishima was worried. Worried that his best friend might do something stupid.  “The bastard is going to pay for what he did.” Was all Katsuki said, well more like growled.  “Bakubro you’ll get house arrest if you do anything! Didn’t Aizawa-sensei say that if you got another house arrest he would call your parents?” “Fucking let him. I don’t care; the bastard is going to pay.” Katsuki then turned and walked away. “ICY HOT. COME OUT HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” He yelled as he searched the halls. Kirishima watched him leave before racing to go find Aizawa. He had a feeling he was going to be needed to stop a murder.

Katsuki found Todoroki fairly easily. The bi coloured boy appeared. He looked horrible. This for Katsuki was the best thing ever. “You are so fucking dead. How dare you hurt Deku.” He growled. “Like you are any better? You treat him like shit.” Todoroki said glaring at the blonde. “I know that. I know how shitty I am to him but I am trying to get fucking better cause that’s what he deserves. You made him fucking cry you piece of shit! I JUST SPENT HOURS CALMING THE NERD DOWN CAUSE YOU HURT HIM!!!!” He saw the shock and surprise in the others face, so he struck. He punched the boy hard in the face. There were two sickening cracks, but Katsuki didn’t care.

Instead he jumped onto the boy that was now on the ground and threw punch after punch after fucking punch. He didn’t stop until he was pulled off. “Kaachan stop it!” He stopped for a second seeing his boyfriend worried expression. “Deku.” Was all he said.  “You said one punch not borderline murder!” “Well he deserved it for hurting you idiot.” He said now calm. Izuku went to check on Todoroki as Aizawa and Kirishima arrived. “What is going on here?” Aizawa said rightfully pissed off.

No one said anything. “Kirishima help Todoroki to the infirmary. Midoriya, Bakugo. My office. NOW!” Everyone nodded and did as they were told.

The two boys sat quietly in Aizawas office. They didn’t say a word. It would mean exposing their relationship to their teacher. “I’m already aware you aren’t directly involved Midoriya so you won’t be getting house arrest, however you seem to know what is happening. I want answers.” Aizawa was a little calmer now.

He watched the two look at each other before nodding. “The icy hot bastard deserved it.” Katsuki said. “Kaachan no!” “He hurt you Izuku. He made you cry, feel like shit.” This was new. He had never seen or heard Bakugo treat Midoriya with such well kindness.  He decided he would let the two talk first. “I know that but that doesn’t mean you can murder him! I must have lead him on or something!” “DO NOT BLAME YOURSELRF NERD! Let’s get one thing straight, you didn’t lead him on. If he got the wrong signs or if he thought that his little confession and kissing you without your consent would work he’s a bigger idiot than I thought.” Well at least Aizawa had some answers now. “But-““No! You have every right to say no. To not feel the same way. You were being yourself around him cause you trusted him. Which I know is hard for you to do. If he decided that meant you liked him or whatever the fuck he thought, then that’s on him not you.” Aizawa decided this would be the best time to step in.

“Bakugo is right, Midoriya. Whatever happened that caused this and you will tell me everything its clear it wasn’t your fault. If you don’t feel the same way about someone you have every right to say no and if Todoroki kissed you without your consent then we may need to have a lesson about consent.” He saw Midoriya looked down. “Twice...” He muttered. “What was that?” He asked. “It happened twice...” Well sounds like these children desperately need a lesson on consent. That was going to give him a headache and less sleep. Dam.

“Okay. So what happened?” He looked at Midoriya. “Icy hot and him were studying together. Icy hot said something about the way Izuku looks at me which for the record he better look at me like I’m a whole ass snack or else cuddles are revoked-“ “Oh my god Kaachan!” Aizawa seemed to click from that but didn’t interrupt. “Well its true anyways Icy hot confessed and kissed him before he could react or say anything. Izuku pushed him away I don’t know the conversation from there but the bastard said shit about me my baby defended me like the bad ass motherfucking boyfriend he is. He was then backed into a wall icy hot confessed again asking some shit about his love being enough? Like bitch no Izuku don’t want you, he already got a whole ass snack and awesome boyfriend aka me! So why would he want your crusty ass. The fucker then kissed my baby again; he made him cry as well. I spent so long calming Izu down. Then I went and beat the living fuck out of him for hurting my baby!” Katsuki explained. “Kaachaaaaaan stop being embarrassing.” Midoriya pouted but at least he seemed happier. “It's true though.” “Just cause its true doesn’t mean you need to announce it to Aizawa-sensei!” He saw the grin on Bakugos face widen a little. “I'll tell Auntie your being embarrassing!” Midoriya said feeling smug and it showed. “OI don’t bring the old hag into this!” The glare he gave wasn’t cruel. Aizawa had to admit this was a sweet little scene but he had a job to do.

“Bakugo. As much as your actions were in the right place you still can’t attack a student. You will be on house arrest for three days. Todoroki will also be getting house arrest. I do also have to call your parents Bakugo. I’ll let you explain the situation.” Aizawa didn’t expect himself to be so soft on the blonde. He was more shocked to see Bakugo just accept that. “Uhm Aizawa-sense?” He looked at Midoriya. “Can this stay between us? What happened and uh Kaachan and I?” He saw the worried expression. “Of course. I want you both to know that you will be accepted here once you decide to come out and if you need anything and I mean ANYTHING at all please do not hesitate to ask. I know terrifying it can be to come out, if anyone disrespects you once you do come out tell me immediately.” Aizawa looked at how the two lit up. It warmed his heart a little. They might be problem children but they were also sweet. “Go get your hand checked out, and then back to the dorms. I’m sure your parents will be calling soon Bakugo.” He let the two go and sighed. “I swear those two will be the death of me.” He said quietly. He also made a small mental note about Midoriyas trust issues. He would have to speak to the boy and find out what happened to cause these issues. He originally thought it was Bakugos doing but now it seemed like there was a bigger problem at hand. He sighed again. So much for taking a nap.

The couple left Aizawas office and went to recovery girls office. Recovery girl didn’t say much just glared at them before fixing up Bakugos hand. They were then sent off.

They went to Bakugos dorm room. “Whole ass snack really?” Izuku said looking at his boyfriend. “Well its true! I am a whole ass snack.” Izuku giggled. “You however are the meal.” Izuku blush and gently hit his boyfriends chest. “Stop it. Bad Kaachan.” Katsuki laughed. “Come on I want cuddles before the old hag rings. I’ll even be the big spoon.” He saw Izukus eyes light up before the two got comfortable on Katsukis bed. Katsuki would keep it to himself but he just fell in love with the nerd even more. And that is that little piece done. Does anyone want to see the parents reaction to this situation? As a little bonus chapter? Let me know and Ill write it up. I originally want going to have Aizawa find out about the two but then I was like fuck it and we can Dadzawa. Also I may or may not have set up a future story piece for Izukus past. Hope you enjoyed this little piece of the au.  Requests for pieces for this au are open as well as my asks, so feel free to ask/request something :3 Part one can be found here: https://dead-inside-cx.tumblr.com/post/190468485265/part-1

[j-exclamationmark-l]

I'm so frustrated.

I thought my days of being stalked were over. I'm approaching the end of my 20s, I dress mostly in men's clothing nowadays, I'm confrontational and cruel and have erased any softness from my personality.

How many stalkers have I had now? There was the asshole in college who assaulted me, when everyone told me it was my fault for "playing hard to get." I should have reported him. My biggest regret in life is not reporting him to the police. I was in my own dorm, minding my own business. No matter what I was wearing, I wasn't asking for it because I never thought it would happen. Fuck everyone who told me I deserved it. Fuck everyone who told me not to go to the police.

There was that asshole's friend, the one who first stalked me on facebook. I'd block him and he'd create a new profile to harass me, telling me he was suicidal and he dropped out of college because of me (because I didn't ask him out? God knows he didn't even ask me). He told me his therapist thought I was a monster for shoving everyone away - not that it matters, he's human scum, but i pushed everyone away after i was assaulted by the first asshole. I had pages of accounts by him that I'd blocked.

Then there was the old man. I think I've talked about him here before. He was so fucking creepy. He moved into the apartment above mine, and no one was willing to help, not the police, not Leopalace, the company that owned the apartment.

I fell in love, once. I'm ace (possibly aro?), I've never had a proper family, and I'm rarely shown kindness, so it was hard for me to recognize. It took me a long time to figure out. Years. He was my best friend. He disappeared, almost two years ago now. I still dream of him. My subconscious just can't let him go.

I began asking around. Have you seen him, have you heard from him. My close group of friends (our close group of friends) had no idea where he went. He told me once we were his best friends - a huge relief, I didn't want my feelings of "best friend" to be one-sided. He always took such good care of me. But still, no one had heard from him. Our messages weren't even marked as "read."

So I became desperate. I know if he wants to be left alone, that's his business, but I dream about him all the time, and I worry. What if he needs us? I know I had a tendency to be cold, what if he mistook my coldness as genuinely not caring about him? I remember the time we got curry together, just the two of us, and they brought out our rice in heart shapes and I was so embarrassed that I began smashing it. It wasn't him. I didn't hate him. I'm just allergic to emotion.

So I rebooted facebook and began messaging anyone I could think of, just to see if he was still alive. I get that if this was someone I met yesterday, it's okay to ghost them, but not someone you've known for nearly eight years. I had no idea he was unhappy with us. I wanted to know why. I know he doesn't owe me closure but I crave it. I just wanted to know that he's still alive. If at all possible, I'd have liked to know what I did to upset him. But I know he doesn't owe me that.

It's like taking out a spirit board. I was so desperate for closure that I was willing to summon the devil (in this case, the devil being facebook).

What answered me was not anything I meant to summon. An acquaintance from high school, not even a friend, not anyone who knew my missing friend, not anyone I reached out to, not even someone on my official friends list on facebook.

I thought telling him I was in Japan would deter him. I'm sorry if this is sexist, but I know there's only one reason for someone like him to contact me. I experienced hell in America. I'm not prepared to move back there for this idiot. I only answered once every other day, never twice in the same day.

So he began calling me. I didn't know that was possible on the hellsite that is Facebook. He woke me up, he called me while I was at work.

Why? We weren't even friends!

I tried to feel out if he was depressed or needed help - even that, I know, is too much, because we're not friends and that's not my job. I'm sick of people telling me about their suicidal thoughts. I'm sick of having to be others' crutch to lean on. But he just kept asking mundane questions and making stupid remarks about the job that I've honestly grown to love (especially now that that bitch Kristie is gone).

Maybe he did need help. I did hear one source of confirmation from all the friends I consulted, that calling someone like me (a stranger in another country) isn't normal. I still can't get over the audacity he had.

So I had to burn my spirit board (delete my facebook for the final time). I just… I still can't get over it. In America, no one valued me. I was never considered pretty, just "Asian." I would have killed to know anyone considered me pretty back then. To my teachers, I didn't even have a name. Except for my Korean AP English teacher, everyone just called me "the Chinese kid." Only one teacher knew my name, and I messaged her last year to say thank you. No one even cares to know how I'm doing. They just take and take and take and chip away at my sanity.

Now I don't care about "pretty" or "not pretty." Even if people consider me attractive, it only leads to trouble. Even over New Year, I had issues with a friend who couldn't grasp that I'm just not interested in sex. Saying "it doesn't have to mean anything" doesn't even make it better, it makes it worse.

Maybe I'm being hypocritical, wanting to be cared about yet pushing everyone away. But this last contact, I don't even feel cared about. There's no way he actually cared about me, he never knew me. Waking me up with goddamn phone calls is unacceptable.

Maybe I'm being hypocritical, because I think about my friend who disappeared every goddamn day.

Went out drinking Thursday with friends. Finally had the guts to ask a mundane question about him, a question that doesn't change anything ("the last time you heard from him, which account was it from? The one with his name or the one he named after me?" "The one he named after you."), and immediately vomited afterward. I could still feel the acid in my throat Friday, burning my esophagus and my nose. I couldn't sing at all yesterday.

I went home and cried. Nothing new happened so it doesn't make a lot of sense.

Why - how can so many people harass me and try to contact me, yet the one I want is, for all intents and purposes, dead?

I mean, hes not dead.

I know where he is. I know that he is still alive. But somehow it's less painful to imagine him as dead.

I've had a headache all day today and skipped out on orchestra rehearsal. I've taken handfuls of ibuprofen but my headache won't go away. I've drunk cup after cup of tea (both caffeine and non-caffeine type), had lots of water, and it still won't go away. My vision is blurry and my head is pounding. I actually passed out at my desk earlier, in too much pain to even make it to my bed, which touches my desk.

Maybe I'm just sick.

[neighbourskid]

What’s Your Story?

(original date: 30 July 2016)

At ComicCon, two weeks ago, I got this free shirt that says "What's your story?". And now that I've been wearing it, every time I've looked in a mirror or just seen a reflection of myself, I have been wondering, what exactly is my story? Why am I the way I am? What made me like this? Where do I come from, and where do I go to? And I have thought a lot about this, to be honest. But I guess, I just gotta start at the beginning, right?

I am pretty bad with childhood memories. I barely know anything. Everything that I do know, I feel like only knowing because people told me or because I've seen pictures of it. Which honestly bums me out. I am also constantly not sure if things I feel like I actually do remember, aren't just things that I made up at some point. But anyways.

I grew up in a small-ish town in Switzerland. We've lived in other small-ish towns and villages before, but I was definitely too young to remember any of that. There are memories of me feeding my older half-brother, but I am quite sure that I only know this because there's a picture of it. Right now, I'd say my earliest memory is my half-brother (who's autistic by the way) helping my brother and me out of beds we couldn't get out on our own. I know that I know this. I was probably around three or four at the time. Anyways.

My parents got divorced when I was four. Although I have lived with my mom until I moved out this July, I never really connected with her as much as other girls do. Those good mother-daughter relationships you see in movies sometimes? We didn't have that. I was always very focused on the men in my family. My dad was my hero, even though I only saw him every second weekend and on special occasions like birthdays and Christmas. But he was my hero. Still is.

My brother was my role model from early childhood on. My mom always says, that I was always okay with everything that he chose to do or have. My brother wanted these pants? Me too. My brother wanted chocolate milk? Me too. Those were my most said words. "Me too."

My mom feared that I would be too dependent on his decisions and never be truly me, because I was okay with doing whatever he did. But I don't think that this is what happened. I just loved my brother. My dad wasn't always there because of the divorce, so my next go-to person was my brother, because I didn't see my mom as a role model or go-to person. We didn't connect like that.

My brother and me, we're 18 months apart. That's a wonderful age gap. It's not too close, but it's also not too far away to get along splendidly.

Of course, one of the reasons why I was always okay with doing/having what my brother did, was because I thought we were the same. As a child, I didn't really get the concept of gender or that there is a real difference between boys and girls. I just knew that some people had other parts than others, but I was like, yeah and? What does it matter?

I just knew that I always liked hanging out with boys more than I did with girls. I had this friend in kindergarten who I always stole Legos with. Then in first grade, I was seated next to a girl with the same last name as me, and we got along and I got to play at her house a lot, but in second grade I was back to being with boys. And I was friends with the same boy until probably fourth grade, then expanded my friend group - to even more boys. And they accepted me. I got to hang out with them, got to play video games with them, played with pokemon cards, played football. It wasn't until probably sixth grade that I actually got girl friends. And even then, my main friend group were still the boys. And I was kinda the "cool girl" because I got to hang out with them.

It was nothing I was striving for, but it happened nonetheless.

I remember that one of my best friends had a crush on me, and I didn't get it. I was oblivious to that. Until I cut my hair in sixth grade, and thus looked more boyish than ever before, and he lost his interest. In retrospect, I should've seen it. But it doesn't really matter anyway.

Then seventh grade came around - new teachers, new class - and I only had four of my old classmates left: two girls who I didn't spend that much time with, the guy who had had a crush on me and another guy who I had often played video games with, but more due to other people than actually him. So in short, four people I wasn't really that good friends with. So I had to find new ones.

As many of you might now, I am an insanely introverted person. Well, at least to new people. People who have known me for a long time often can't believe that I am actually very shy and introverted. But that is that.

I made friends rather quickly, though. Well, at least I think so. I got along well with pretty much everyone, but I mostly spent my time with one or two of the girls. But in the end, I didn't really bond with them that much, because I haven't talked to anyone of them in years. It didn't matter anyway, because I had to repeat 8th grade, and had new classmates anyway. And that is where I made friends, who I still see to this day and am still friends with. I'm even living with one of them! Which is great to be honest.

In the two years I was with those people, I changed a lot. I was always the tomboy, the girl dude. The bro that just so happened to be a girl, but nobody cared. But with those people, I think I finally wasn't the bro friend anymore. I was still the stereotype "cool girl" especially because I wasn't girly (I'm still not) and I didn't give two shits what people thought (still don't). But I got more girlier than before. I dressed less manly, could finally get to like tank tops, skinny jeans, and shorts that didn't cover my knees. Even jewelry! Well rings, mostly.

But I was still me; boyish, reckless, climbing-on-trees-and-falling-down self-destroy-ish.

My dad always wanted a son and a daughter. And that is what he got. I am not the typical daughter, the typical girl. But I have a lot in common with my dad, so I think he got the daughter he wanted, or he came around to accept that I would never be the girly girl. He loves me and I know that.

I know my mom loves me. And that she accepts me for who I am. But I think she always had more issues with me being the way I am, than my dad had. With me being so very boyish. We always fought when buying clothes. Oh, the memories. It was a war.

After ninth grade I went to grammar school. I only knew my friend Angie, but soon enough I got along with pretty much everyone in that class. I think I was still the "cool girl" which got me friends easily. I got along with the girls, I got along with the boys. I think I was good friends with everyone, with some exceptions obviously. I had friends in other classes as well. I wasn't typically popular, mind you, but I am friendly. People get along with me. People tell me I'm funny, trustworthy, loyal, a good friend.

I made a habit of getting along with teachers, too. Mostly teachers I didn't have class with, but still. The class teacher of the one's we had PE with, was one of those teachers. After the first half year, I decided that he was going to be my victim, and so after the skiing camp he became exactly that. I mocked him constantly. After a fantastic incident - I shouted across the school yard that I thought his pink shirt was extremely manly - he asked one of his students who was my friend, if I meant harm or if I was always like that. She told him that this was just who I was, and from that moment on he returned my "bullying". We had a great time. I tried to sell him shoes, he was my go-to person for pain killers, he mocked my headaches, he told me with the biggest smile to "shut the fuck up". We had a great time. I always have one or two teachers like that at every school I go to. My English and German teacher was the other victim. He was a great teacher, and I think he appreciated me as a student. I met him yesterday and he was very pleased to hear that I was going to study English. We had bitch fights in the middle of class. While everyone looked at me like I had death wishes, we had the greatest fun mocking each other. It was great.

I am no teachers pet. I just feel like you need at least one teacher you actually like and have a good relationship with, or else you won't make it through school without constant mental breakdowns.

Anyways. I am rabbit trailing (I would like to personally thank Zachary Levi for adding this word to my vocabulary).

As some of you might know, I am a Christian. Not the "it says on my papers that I am a Christian, so I am one" but actually an active Christian. I go to church. I pray. I believe. I wouldn't call myself religious. I am a person of faith. There's a difference.

Anyways. When I was in second grade, my mom got a job where she had to work shifts. So we got someone where we could go eat, and spend our free afternoons at. They are great people and I'm still friends with them. Their two children are basically my little siblings and I consider their daughter one of my best friends.

These people, this couple, were Christians, and they went to church in our town. I don't know exactly when my mom converted, but I know that we started going to that church, and I made friends for life. When I was twelve or thirteen, there was a baptism service coming up and I told my mom that I wanted that, too.

Usually, it is waaaaay to early to get baptised at twelve or thirteen. Mostly, teens are "allowed" to do so when they're sixteen or eighteen or whatever. But I felt like this was the right thing to do, so I did. And they let me.

Over the course of my life as a person of faith, I have always searched for role models. Someone I could look up to in that aspect of my life. I found a few. The dad of the two girls I live with at the moment was one of them. He was the pastor of our church, is a missionary in Central Africa now. Then there were various people from our church who I looked up to because they just have so much faith and trust. And in 2012 someone new made his way into my line of sight and is now not only a role model as a person of faith, but for life in general. In 2012, through the movie Avengers and through Tom Hiddleston, I discovered Zachary Levi. Who is not only a brother in Christ, but an all around good person in general and just the sweetest guy I have ever had the good fortune of meeting.

Through various interviews and NerdHQ panels, Zac has over and over again inspired me in so many ways. He inspires me to be more kind, to be more gentle, to be more passionate. He inspires me to trust God, to bring important decisions before God. He inspires me so much. Every time NerdHQ comes around again, or every time I just watch panels throughout the year, I get giddy and I'm full of energy to live my dreams, go out and change the world, be the best version of myself.

This year I have had the wonderful opportunity to finally attend NerdHQ and meet Zac for the first time. And he did not disappoint. He was everything I wished him to be. Even better. He gave me something so precious that I feel like this will fuel me for a very long time. With a simple sentence he changed my life more than he already has before. And I am eternally grateful for that.

"What's your story?" Well, my story is still in the first chapters. There's a lot more to come. I've been through things that I wish I hadn't. I lost people very dear to me. I'm still trying to find out some things about me. But there's one thing I know. God will help me write my story. He will be there every step of the way. God will put people in my life that help me figure out who I am, what to do, and where to go. He put Zac and NerdHQ in my life for a reason. And there's no way I am letting that go. Ever.

I told my mom yesterday that I plan to never miss NerdHQ ever again, if I can anyhow avoid it. She said, "that's big talk." But I'm not kidding. I will do everything in my power to never miss the awesomeness that is NerdHQ ever again. Those are four days of granted happiness. Why should I ever wanna miss that again? There are likeminded, amazing people who I wouldn't be able to see anywhere else. They don't live in Switzerland. They live all over America.

My story is about a girl who loves stories. And storytellers. I would love to be one, too. I get inspired every other day by stories I read or hear or see, and I would like to give back. Tell stories to inspire future generations, the way people like Zac have inspired me.

My story is about finding purpose in inspiring others. My story is about being passionate, "loving too much", knowing a shit ton of "fun facts" about movies and books and people I've never met in my life. My story is about me. Your average neighbourhood nerd. The kid next door. The introverted kid who doesn't seem introverted at all, once you get to know them.

So, that is me. What's your story?

[thepinkwriterr]

Loner // IT 2017 Chapter Twenty - One

Dodie Clark - She

-

Am I allowed to look at her like that?

Could it be wrong, when she's just so nice to look at?

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

I'd never tell

No, I'd never say a word

And oh it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt

She smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

And I'll be okay

Admiring from afar

Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

Cause she tastes like birthday cake and story time and fall

But to her

I taste of nothing at all

Cause she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

Yes, she means everything to me

She means everything to me

//

Danielle's POV

"Uck, that's disgusting." Beverly cringed. Me, Bev, Richie, and Eddie gawked at Casey's table. Clair Benson, one of her pets, was running her hands through his hair while they talked. Casey and Bill were playing tonsil tennis, effectively ruining my appetite.

"When the hell did Stan become a traitor?" I asked, scooting my tray away from my face. "Over the weekend when you were at home. We were at a party and I introduced them. They started talking about stories of each other from school. It was weird as fuck." Beverly rolled her eyes.

"No, you're the whore!" Richie and Eddie came in, arguing once again. "I'm not a whore. If anything, you are!" Eddie retorted, sitting in a plastic chair across from me.

"I don't know Rich...I gotta agree with Eds, you are drowning in pussy." I humored him. He smirked,"Maybe you're right. I had Marina Ledges just begging for Lil Henry the other day."

"'Lil Henry'?" Bev asked, disgust on her face. "Yeah. Y'know...My d-" "We got it Rich!" Eddie interrupted, yelling. "I'm a pussy annihilator!" Richie smirked proudly.

"Really? Then why did Sarah Jesso reject you? She's a known hoe. She would fuck Eddie. No offense Eddie." Bev added in.

"On second thought, I think Eddie's the whore. I mean, have you seen the way he stares at Mr. Zigs?" Richie asked wryly, smirking. "I am not boning my Biology teacher! I get my grades honestly through tireless studying and grueling homework!"

We all laughed. "I don't know Eds, Richie may be right." Bev chuckled. "Yeah. I mean, I've seen the way you two stare at each other, biting your lips and hiking up your shorts to show off your thighs." I shrugged.

"Fuck you guys!" Eddie exclaimed, throwing his things in the trash. We all turned to gawk at the PDA coming from the table of whores once again. When Eddie came back he joined in, muttering something about sucking face.

The bell rang, dismissing us from lunch. "Thank god," I grumbled to Bev as we walked down the hallway,"If I had to look at that for one more second I was gonna barf." "Me too." Beverly scowled.

Someone shoulder checked me. I looked ahead, seeing Casey's dumbass. "Just let it go, Dani." Beverly held my arm, keeping me in place. I exhaled calmly,"You're right, you're right."

We sat in the library, talking about things. She told me that Jake told her what happened. "So, he kinda caused your guys breakup?" She asked.

I chuckled,"No. Both Bill and I were at fault. But regardless, we weren't meant for each other, clearly." Bev nodded,"You're being really mature about this, good for you." She smiled.

What I didn't tell her was how and why I was being so mature. I didn't mind the fact Bill had fucked me over. I didn't mind because now I could feel whatever I wanted for anyone without feeling bad.

"Well, I gotta go. Ben and I gotta study for calculous." She stood, pushing in her chair. I nodded,"Have fun." Sometimes I forget that they're all in the year above me. Everyone except Eddie.

When the bell rang again I grabbed my things and hauled ass from History to Bio. I was hasty to get to the room, as it was my last class of the day. On my way to class I felt someone shoulder check me again.

But this time Beverly wasn't here to keep me level-headed. I turned, slapping Casey. "You fucking whore!" I spat. I could see the anger bubbling up through her, exiting her mouth in the form of a comeback,"At least I can keep a guy, shit you-"

"No that fuck you can't! Bill only went back to you because he thought I didn't want him. You're just a cheap version of me, and you know it. That's why you hate me. Because I'm classy and you're t-"

She punched me in the ribs. It didn't hurt too bad. I rolled my eyes. "Trashy." I finished. She screamed, trying to jump on me. I moved out of the way swiftly. I ran to my class, that was only a few steps away, and nearly avoided her.

About ten minutes later I was called down to the office. I received a detention, while Casey got off...you guessed it! Scott free. That bitch.

Kali's POV

I woke up to a pounding headache once again. I groaned, sitting up slowly. I took some pain numers, then went about my morning routine.

When I got to school all I wanted to do was see Beverly. I knew she was hanging out with Danielle and the rest of the famed Losers Gang.

Another morning spent alone in the bathroom...

Everyday I waited for History and Biology, dreading anything before or after. Our projects were done after today, no need for her to continue to pretend to be my friend.

As I walked down the hallway, ready for History, I ran into a large person. I fell straight on my ass. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" He pulled me up with his large hand. "No, you're fine, it was my fault." I was distracted, focused soully on seeing Bev.

"No no, it's my fault. And how could I have missed such a beautiful girl." He smirked. I recognized him as Ben Hanscom. "I um-I-I-" His smirk stood still,"It's alright. How about I make it up by taking you out this Friday night?" He leaned against the wall.

"I-I have a boyfriend." I ran past him, up the stairs.

History couldn't have rolled around any slower! I sat across from the acclaimed red head, staring at the back of her beautiful hair.

As the teacher droned on and on about the French Revolution and marquis de lafayette's genius, the words of Stevie Nicks rang through my mind.

Something's happening

Happening to me

My friends say I'm acting peculiarly

C'mon baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon before you break my heart

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

And it was true. I look at this woman. This divine creation of beauty. I felt my face still burning. I tried to control my blush, but I just couldn't.

I packed up my things, ready for the school day to be over. The bell rang, dismissing the students. A note fell over my books. I looked up to see Beverly, holding tightly onto her book bag straps, looking over her shoulder at me as walked out the door. She winked before she crossed the doorway.

I smiled, picking up the note. Scrawled in her pretty loopy hand writing was: We still on for a sleepover? I smiled as I read her name signed at the bottom: Beverly

Danielle's POV

I walked down the staircase to the detention room. Boy oh boy was I in it when I got home. If my day wasn't bad enough you could not believe the only other person in the room. Richie goddamn mother fuckin Tozier.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the P-" "Save it, Creep." He was taken back by this. I hadn't said anything of the sort to him in a very long time.

I looked to the front, ignoring him. My dumbass didn't bring anything with me. My things were in my book bag in my car. I sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave me to sulk in peace. I knew my inevitable fate at home.

He was fucking humming. Again. "Could you fucking stop?" I asked, hatred packed in my words, turning around to face him.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asked, tilting his head in a benign way, continuing his humming. I rolled my eyes. "Don't look at me." He stoped to be a dick, then continued humming.

Furrowing my brows out of confusion,"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I stood, walking over to him. "You're-you're unbelievable! I try to be nice! I try so fucking hard! And you're-you're just a dick to me! All. The. Time!"

He smirked, the corner of his mouth raising. That smirk made all of my anger melt away. Any anger I had ever felt for him dipped off me like a cheap candle and puddled on the floor below me, absorbing into the carpet.

His eyes shone brightly, the florescent lights capturing their beauty in full. Those beautiful eyes. Those Sienna eyes that I had grown to love.

Love? Really Danielle? Do I love him... No, no I couldn't. I can't. But god, those eyes were so inviting and made me feel so warm that I could look into them at the depths of the sea and still feel at home.

Maybe I do love him. No, I know I love him. I mean, how could you not love someone who made you feel like they built the sun, just for you?

How could you not love someone who made you feel that every breath you took was the first that had ever been taken? How could you not love someone who made you feel as if they didn't need music, that your voice was the only melody they ever needed. So how could I not be in love with him?

As I stared into his doe eyes that were magnified by his thick lenses, I thought about what I wanted to tell him. And I opened my mouth:

"I love you. I love you so much. I look at you and all I see is this beautiful human being.

All I see is your smile, your eyes that look brutal and theres a defining pain there, but so much love.

All I see are your dark curls, framing your gorgeous face. Your face could melt away the deepest of stresses, making malignant days seem like heaven on earth.

Your long, taut legs. Your thin cascading arms, leading to large, lithe hands.

Every part, every Inch, ever freckle, every pale section of your being is beautiful. There isn't a part of you that I wouldn't feel honored and blessed to love."

But I didn't open my mouth. I didn't say what I needed to say. I didn't tell him that he's everything I could and would ever need.

I didn't tell him his eyes remind me of rainy days spent inside under the covers.

I didn't tell him that I love him.

Kali's POV

I sat across from Beverly in Biology, filling out a sheet. She made a corny joke about atoms, a smile forcing it's way to my face. We both erupted into innocent laughter.

Just the sound of her giggling voice made my heart flutter. And I knew, in that moment, that I wasn't like other girls. I wasn't normal.

Danielle's POV

"You're not so innocent, Princess. You..." We droned on and on about why the other person was at fault for our broken friendship. It was breaking me to tear him down.

"And-and your perfect face, beautiful hair, long legs..." His tone softened,"You just sit there and pretend I hate you! You sit there and you can't see that you're breaking my heart! You stand here and act like the reason I hate you isn't because I can't stand the thought of you with Bill! You're breaking my heart Danielle. You're fucking breaking my heart."

All I could do was look into his eyes. He had a tears escaping his eyes, only making a short way from his tear ducts before wiping them away. He looked to me for a response.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't muster up anything.

He cradled the back of my head, pulling me in close to him. He crashed his soft lips into mine.

Word Count: 2170