#Because by god it's hard to keep those people straight in history class

[rosencrantzsguildenstern]

that poll post i made is getting so many notes holy shit. i like how unlike the spice tolerance poll i made a while back i'm actually seeing change and turnover (like james was winning for a while but now it's elizabeth)

[softspaceboibrian]

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy || Eddie Munson || Chapter 1

Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Y/N Henderson || I used she/her pronouns, but there is no actual physical description, so the pronouns can be switched with whatever anyone wants or prefers!

Summary: Eddie needs help with an English assignment, and who better to ask help from than the best student in his class, Y/N Henderson?

Warnings: "fuck" is used a lot. fluff, a lot of pining and crushing. steve being a bit of a dick at one point, and Dustin not being able to keep things to himself. just bad writing, really.

Wc: 5397 (it's kinda long, I know... but I didn't know where to stop! sorry!)

A/N: this is my first ST fic ever. and actually the first time I wrote after some very long months of writer's block. hopefully, it's not too bad. I have a chapter 2 in mind already, if you guys liked this! please let me know (I would have to work on it next week, since I have an exam on Monday, ugh..). Also, the title will probably make more sense in the following chapter(s).

Eddie hated going to class. He didn’t completely hate high school because there he had some friends and the Hellfire Club. But attending classes was a whole other thing. And he hated it. Sitting still at a small desk, on a hard chair that made his back hurt, which always made him feel older than he was – and he was already older than any other kid there. Listening to teachers talk and ask stupid questions was hell incarnated to him. For example, when would he ever need to use trigonometry in his life? It wasn’t like he was going to become a space engineer or an architect. Given that that’s what you would use trig for. He definitely didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. Or, like, Shakespeare. That morning he found himself having to listen to his English teacher reading once again lines from Romeo and Juliet, as if they would need to know that “the window is the East, and Juliet’s the Sun” to get somewhere in life. If it were for him, they would spend every single English lesson reading Tolkien or King, and not that boring stuff that everyone calls classics. Shining. That’s a classic.

The only reason he ever really enjoyed English was Y/N Henderson. She sat in front of him in English and History, and they had PE together. Eddie hated every single one of those subjects, but her presence made them less terrible. Not that they were friends or anything. She’s Dustin Henderson’s older sister; she’s the smartest person in the entire school, hell, possibly in all of Hawkins. And he was just Eddie “the Freak” Munson. She wouldn’t want to be friends with him. Of course, she was the kindest person in school, and she always smiled at him whenever they crossed paths. But still, he was the school’s freak. And she deserved better than him. Yet, he couldn’t help himself but smile back, or get a little bit excited when he remembered they had class together. He would never, for the love of God, admit the feelings he felt for her. He was completely sure that, if he just ignored them, they would simply disappear. It wasn’t like a tested theory, but he was sure it worked like that. It had to work like that.

“Bullshit.” Eddie was pulled from his thoughts by a soft voice. He quickly looked round the classroom, only to notice Y/N shaking her head. “Pardon me, miss, but it’s all bullshit.” Eddie was not sure what he had missed, but was now all ears.

A blonde girl from the first row snapped around to look at Y/N. And if looks could kill, Eddie was sure Y/N would be well on her way to the hospital now. “Do you have something to say, nerd?” He never really understood on what basis people used nerd as a mean name. As if being a nerd was a bad thing. Also, being good at school doesn’t make you a nerd.

“Actually,” Y/N sat up straight. “Yes, I do have something to say.” Eddie always found Y/N’s will to speak her mind fascinating. She always said what she believed in. And she always tried not to hurt anyone’s feelings in the process. “I think it’s bullshit that you think- actually, that everyone thinks that Romeo and Juliet is the epitome of love. I mean, let’s be real, that story is unrealistic. I know that Shakespeare had to stick to time a certain time frame and everything, but who falls in love on sight, immediately decides to marry each other, and not even three days later kill themselves because of the stupid decisions they took? Because, in this regard, we have to remember that Friar Lawrence plays a major role in their dooming end, since he is the one that suggests the whole poison gimmick.” Eddie could not help but smile. He found amusing the hurt look on the blonde in the front row as Y/N dismantled her beliefs, or at least he thought, he wasn’t really paying attention before. “I mean, I get how appealing the trope of the star-crossed lovers is. Really, I do. But are you really telling me that Romeo and Juliet’s is a better love story than Beatrice and Benedick’s, or even Rosalind and Orlando’s? I would so love for someone to carve love poems for me into trees so that our growing love could forever live in nature.” Did they read about that in class? Eddie had no idea who those people were and was more than confused at that point, but still extremely intrigued.

“That’s not what I was saying!” The blonde replied, obviously offended that someone had told her that she was wrong.

“Then what were you saying? I’m open to clarifications.” Y/N smiled kindly, but it was obvious that the other one didn’t take it as so. Eddie looked at the girl, waiting to hear her answer. But then the bell rang and everyone started gathering their stuff. Lucky girl, saved by the bell, he thought. He would have loved a bit more drama, it always made classes more interesting.

As everyone was rushing out into the corridor, Eddie included, the teacher tried to get everyone’s attention one last time. “Please, remember that next week we are moving all the way to the gothic novel and that you have to prepare a 3-page essay on any book you want from that genre.” He stopped in his tracks, right in the middle of the entryway, and was pushed aside by two guys who wanted to get out. What? And essay? When did she say that? If it had been any other time of the school year, he would have not cared, but Eddie knew that, with spring break coming up, he had to start working seriously if he wanted to graduate that year. Fuck, he thought. I’m fucked. He quickly looked around the room, as if a miracle could just fall into his lap.

Y/N was still at her desk, struggling to close her ever so full pencil case. “Miss Henderson” the teacher walked over to Y/N’s desk. “I know you’re passionate about literature, but you cannot answer like that to your classmates.”

“I know, ma’am… it’s just, they don’t understand it. They don’t understand literature and why it is important.” Y/N sighed, fidgeting with her hands. “You know I try my best to stay calm, but sometimes I just… I just can’t.”

The teacher smiled kindly at her. “I understand. Don’t worry.” She walked back to the front of the class and started cleaning the blackboard, before turning once again towards the girl. “Just, try to avoid using bad words next time.”

Eddie was standing right outside of the classroom, still panicking over the assignment, when Y/N eventually walked into the corridor. And that’s when an idea came to his mind: if Y/N was actually so passionate about people knowing more about literature, then maybe she would be so kind to help him. Yes, that made perfect sense. She would do what she loved, and he would become one step closer toward graduation. Also, on an even brighter note, he would have to spend time with her, which never hurt. He shook his head, trying to shove that thought in the far back of his head.

He looked around, his eyes scanning the corridor until he found Y/N’s figure walking alone towards the cafeteria. He started walking, almost running, trying to catch up with her. “Y/N! Wait up!” He found himself calling out for her, something he never really thought he would do. But he did. When Y/N eventually realised she was being called, she stopped and turned around. However, at that point Eddie was walking so fast that he didn’t stop in time and completely ran into her. “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry!” He started apologising immediately.

“It’s okay! You didn’t hurt me” Y/N laughed, looking up at him. He had never realised how tall he was compared to her. “Did you have something to ask me?” He couldn’t believe how kind she was with him. Any other person wouldn’t even have stopped for him, they would have just flipped him the bird or exclaimed something along the lines of fuck off, freak, and went on their way. But, yet again, she wasn’t any other person.

“I, ehm… yes, actually. I…” Then and there, Eddie thought about turning around and running away. But that would have been too embarrassing. So, he just went for it. “I was wondering if you could, maybe, help me with the English assignment. You see, I’m not really the best at English, but I cannot flunk this class, so-”

“Of course!” Y/N cut him off, still smiling. “Just know that you are the one that is going to do all the work, I’m just going to help. I may be kind, and you may be cute, but I won’t let anyone take advantage of me, alright?”

Cute? Did she just call him cute? Was she for real? Did she really think that? And why did he feel like he was a middle-school boy talking for the first time with his crush? What was that feeling in his chest? Also, why did he feel warm on the face and ears? Was he blushing? Fuck, how embarrassing! But still, cute? Did she find him cute?

“Hey-oh!” Y/N waved her hand in front of Eddie’s face. “Earth to Munson. Are you still there? Are you having a stroke?” She said playfully, pinching his arm as in a further attempt to gain back his attention.

Eddie shook his head, and then nodded. “Yes, sorry. I just… I really expected you to say no, so…”

“Okay, so it has nothing to do with me calling you cute, right? Because I wouldn’t want it to be a problem.” She chuckled, and Eddie was completely taken aback.

Come one, dude. Concentrate. You cannot get lost in your head whenever she smiles at you, or she’s going to think you’re a creep. “It’s not going to be a problem, I promise.” He laughed, raising a hand to the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. Definitely not a good first impression, Munson.

“Okay, so, I know you have Hellfire Club tonight, right?” She asked, and Eddie simply nodded in response. “You could come over to our house for dinner, which would mean I don’t have to drive back here to pick up my brother and I can get ahead with my assignment, because you would take him home. And then, after dinner, we can start talking a bit about what you’re going to work on.”

“Are you sure for dinner? Like, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Y/N put a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Not a bother, trust me. Plus, Dustin will be more than happy to have you over for dinner. He talks about you constantly, about your campaign and how cool you are. Like, really, if I didn’t know he was in a relationship with that Mormon girl, I would have sworn he was in love with you.” She laughed, and so did Eddie. “But really, if you want and can, come over for dinner.”

“I mean, it’s not like I have plans…” Eddie said under his breath. Or that many friends, for that matter.

“Then it’s decided!” Y/N smiled. “So, let’s recap: after school you have your D&D meeting, then you drive Dustin home, we have dinner, and after that we’re going to start working on your assignment. Sounds right?”

“Perfect!”

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“You have actually invited Eddie “the Freak” Munson over to your house? You’re not joking!?” Like every other day, Steve had picked Y/N and Robin up after school to drive them home. But today he was complaining about what Y/N had just told them. “I’m telling you, he’s not good news!”

“Oh, come on, Steve! He’s nice!” She replied, throwing her hands in the air.

“How do you know that, uh?! His reputation precedes him! Everyone at Hawkins High knows about him and his dealing!” Steve kept moving his eyes between the road in front of him and the rear-view mirror to look at Y/N sitting in the back.

“Steve, calm down. Y/N is a grown-up woman. She can defend herself.” Robin tried to help her friend. “Plus, she’s a pretty good judge of character. I mean, she decided to be your friend when everyone else though you were a douchebag.”

“I still think he is a douchebag.” Y/N whispered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Listen, it’s my life, and I make friends with whomever I want, okay? So, whether you like it or not, he’s going to come over to my place, he’s going to have dinner with my family, and then we’re going to work on our English assignment together.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like they’re going to fall in love!” Robin added and Steve raised his hands from the wheel for a couple of seconds, as in a sign of surrender. However, Y/N did not answer to that. Obviously, that wasn’t her plan, to fall in love with Eddie Munson. But she could not deny to herself the fact that she found him charming in his own way. Yes, fine, he wasn’t the conventional pretty boy her mom would want her to end up with, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t find him cute. Hell, cute was probably an understatement. She thought he was hot. Maybe it was the hair, or the leather jacket, but she couldn’t help herself, and whenever he walked by, she would just find herself smiling at him, deep down wishing he would stop and talk with her. Yes, her brother being part of his D&D party had its perks, because she then had to see him every time she went to pick up her brother from school. Also, having a few classes together was something. Not that he paid much attention, but that also meant he wouldn’t notice whenever she turned around to steal a glance. Fuck, she thought, I have to keep my feelings under control. She shook her head in an attempt to push away the thought of Eddie, and tried to make small talk with her two best friends, but her mind wasn’t of any help, and the image of Eddie looking down at her with his big, chocolate eyes in the corridor a few hours prior kept popping up, distracting her from whatever the other two were saying. I’m screwed.

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When Y/N’s mom called her into the kitchen, it was about 7:30 in the evening. “Darling, please, help me set the table. Dusty and his friend are on their way home.” Said the woman, handing her the plates. Y/N fought very hard the urge to tell her mother that Eddie was also her friend and that he was going to be there for her and not Dustin. But instead, she simply took the plates from her and started placing them on the clothed, round table. She hummed to herself as she moved back and forth between the cabinets and the table, stealing, every once in a while, a piece of bread.

A few more minutes went by, when she finally heard the front door open and Dustin’s voice announce their arrival. Their mother quickly left the kitchen to go greet them, whereas Y/N stood frozen for a moment. She looked at her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall, and tried to fix her hair and her clothes – a simple t-shirt and a pair of loose jeans. Yes, she could have definitely changed into something a bit nicer, but there was no time now. So, she sighed and stepped into the front hallway, hiding a little behind her mother’s figure, as if hoping they would not pay that much attention to her. However, that didn’t last for long. “Y/N!” Eddie smiled, taking a step towards her, but then stopping. They both looked at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Should she hug him like she does whenever Robin comes over? Or nod like she does with Dustin’s friends? A similar thought process was going on inside of Eddie’s mind too. When he first had taken the step towards her, his intent was to give her a kiss on the cheek, but he had immediately changed his mind, thinking that might have been too much. Afterall, it was the first time they were actually hanging out.

Luckily, Dustin stepped in and shouted. “Y/N/N! You would never believe how cool today was! Remember the villain I told you about, right? Vecna. The one we thought had died. Well, yes, I said we though because, plot twist, he was still alive!” She looked at her brother and smiled, wrapping her arms around him for a moment, before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Dusty, go wash your hands! It’s ready in here! You can tell her more about it as we eat.” Mrs. Henderson shouted from the kitchen, and Eddie could not believe how close the two siblings actually were. Like, yes, Dustin would always talk about her in the cafeteria, but he would have never thought they actually were that close. So close that she knew everything about his campaign, the one that himself, Eddie, had spent days preparing.

Dinner went on smoothly: the food was delicious and Dustin spent most of the time talking about Hellfire Club and the assignments he had to prepare for the following week. Eddie and Y/N would, every now and then, exchange a look or a smile, without saying a word. But both of them were fine with that. However, things changed a bit when Dustin turned to Eddie and exclaimed. “Dude, you should ask my sister to help you write some of the one shots for Hellfire! She’s a great writer!” Eddie turned to look Y/N, wanting to ask her more about that, but instead he found her with her head hanging low.

“Oh, yes! I never read anything of hers, but Dustin has read everything and loved every single bit, so I suppose that means she’s good.” Her mother added, obviously wanting to contribute to the conversation. However, Eddie couldn’t help but notice Y/N’s discomfort.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Y/N’s voice was soft, and her eyes never left the almost empty glass of water in front of her.

Dustin tried to gain back Eddie’s attention by exclaiming. “She writes a lot of fantasy, stuff with vampires and faes and all of that. I think you could use that in a stand-alone quest.”

“Dustin!” Her voice was now louder, and the girl was visibly upset, but the younger boy would not stop talking about that. “Dustin, stop! You know I don’t want you to talk about it!” Y/N got up from her seat, still not looking anyone in the eyes. She had her hands closed into tight fists as she walked towards the corridor.

“Come on, Y/N! Don’t be mad! I was just trying to-”

“I know, what you were trying to do, Dustin. And you know I don’t want you to do it. That is personal stuff and I don’t want you going around telling people about it.” Her voice was cold, but Eddie could ear it tremble slightly. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to my room.”

And with that, Y/N left the kitchen, leaving her tablemates speechless, with their eyes glued to where the girl was standing a few moments before. Mrs. Henderson sighed and tried to explain to Eddie that Y/N had always been very proud of her things, especially of the ones she made herself. She explained that ever since she was young, she had always been a very reserved girl, not sharing much with others, and that was the reason she found so surprising the friendship between her and her two best friends, Robin and Steve. She told Eddie about how hard on herself she was, how much she studied everyday wanting to get the best marks possible. She explained that she had no idea why she acted like that, since no one ever asked her to get straight As or to get into the best colleges. But as Y/N’s mother talked, Eddie couldn’t stay still. He wanted to make sure, he needed to make sure she was okay. So, as soon as they were excused from the table, he asked Dustin which room was hers and went straight to her. He walked down the corridor, the carpet softening his steps, and stopped in front of the last door. He knocked gently on the door, waiting for an answer. “Y/N…” He called, turning an ear to the door, trying to understand if she had moved at all. “Y/N, it’s me, Eddie. Ehm… can I- can I come in?” He stayed quiet for a moment, but still no answer. “I promise we will only talk of the English assignment or whatever you prefer. Promise.”

“Okay” A voice came from behind Eddie, making him jump.

He turned around and found Y/N laughing at him, a hand on her stomach, one in front of her face. “Damn, Henderson, I thought you were in your room!” He exclaimed, laughing a little himself.

“I was, but then I had to go to the bathroom.” She moved past him and opened the door to her room. “Come in” She smiled, standing aside to let him in.

The room that Eddie walked into was far from what he had imagined Y/N Henderson’s bedroom would have looked right. Not that he had spent that much time thinking about it, but he definitely did not expect the giant posters on the wall of David Bowie, Labyrinth, Queen, or the beautiful drawing of The Lord of the Rings. What he did expect to see, on the other hand, was the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall library. “Wow, Henderson. I must say, you’re not what I thought you were.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed; her arms crossed. “What did you think I was?” She asked, more curious than anything.

“I don’t know, actually. I thought you were going to have pictures of, I don’t know, Johnny Depp, John Cusack or some other heartthrob girls love. Definitely not them.” He walked over to the side of the bed and pointed to the Queen poster.

She got up from her seat and walked next to him. “Well, I do like Johnny Depp.” She smiled. “But he is my kind of guy, actually.” She tapped her finger on Brian May’s figure.

“Not Roger Taylor?” Eddie brought a hand to his mouth, as if to fake shock.

“He’s alright.” She raises her shoulder. “But you see, Brian is tall, has dark, long, curly hair, plays guitar. There’s nothing sexier than that to me.” She replied, eventually turning around and leaning against the wall. It wasn’t until she finally met his eyes that she realised what she had just said. She bit the inside of her cheek, quickly moving her eyes everywhere but on him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. So much for “try keeping your feelings under control”.

Eddie, on the other hand, couldn’t help the smile that lingered on his lips. He nodded, biting slightly his lower lips, trying to conceal the pleased look on his face, but it was too hard. I mean, I am tall, I have Brian May’s hair, and I do play guitar. Does this mean that I am sexy to her? He was very close to asking her, but decided not to, wanting to avoid making her feel frustrated or embarrassed. Afterall, it was very much possible that, even though he perfectly fit her description, she still did not like him like that. Hell, it could even be that she did not like him at all.

So, after a few moments of silence, he turned to the Lord of the Rings poster, studying it. “This is very beautiful.” He said, changing the topic to make her feel more comfortable.

She looked at the poster herself and smiled. “Oh, ehm… Dustin and his friends got it for me for my birthday last year. You see, I used to read it to Dustin before going to bed when we were younger. Actually, I read him The Hobbit, but still. After that, he started telling his friends about it and they all wanted to know more about it. So, when they were old enough, I got everyone a copy and put up a small book club for them. It only lasted a few months, until everyone was done reading the book, but I think it contributed to their passion for D&D.” She finally looked at him with the softest look anyone ever gave him, and he swore he could have melted right then and there.

“I wished someone read me Tolkien when I was younger.” Eddie murmured, going over to the bed and sitting there. “My parents, they… – he sighed – and my uncle… he was always out. So, I spent most of my evenings and nights alone. I still do. Unless I’m out for a deal…” Y/N sat next to him, so close that their legs were brushing, and if she leaned a little to the side, their shoulders would touch. But this time neither of them said or did anything. Eddie enjoyed the closeness, the warmth that came from her body, and a part of him wanted to reach for her hand, to hold it, to play with her fingers. Whereas Y/N realised only then that she actually knew nothing about him, about his parents, his family, if he had any siblings or cousins. “But I read Tolkien.” Eddie broke the silence. “I have a very old copy of The Hobbit back at my place. I think I found it at a yard sale a few years back. I could show it to you, if you want to.”

“I would actually love that” She smiled.

“But my favourite author is King. Man, I love his stuff. Shining was great, but I also liked Carrie and Pet Sematary.”

She never thought she would, on day, spend an evening with Eddie Munson, let alone talking about books. Still, she wished that evening would never end. “Well, if you’re into horror stuff, I think I have idea about what you should do your English assignment on.” Eddie had completely forgotten why he was there in the first place, and that sentence brought him back to reality. He looked her figure get off the bed and followed her to the bookshelf. She browsed it for a few moments, her fingers gently caressing the spines as she looked for the book she wanted. “Here it is.” She exclaimed, picking out a very thick book, with the spine completely cracked. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to read all of this.” She chuckled when she saw the fear in his eyes. “It’s called Night Pieces and it’s a collection of stories by Hoffmann. There is one in particular I love which is The Sandman.” Eddie carefully took the book in his hands and observe it. He obviously wasn’t thrilled at the idea of having to read something he knew nothing about, but he trusted Y/N, so he nodded. “I promise it’s good. If it’s not, then you can… I don’t know, force me to watch a horror movie.”

“I like the sound of that.” He laughed, laying on the bed, his back against the soft duvet that smelled of fresh laundry. “Do you think I could start reading it here? Or do you want me to go?” He looked at her, propping himself up on one elbow for a moment, wanting to look at her better.

She found herself thinking, please, stay for the whole night if you want. But instead, she simply nodded, grabbing her own book before lying next to him, this time leaving a bit more space between them. And they spent almost an entire hour like that, each reading their own book. Y/N could swear that she caught him staring at her a couple of times, but so could he. Eddie went on reading, eventually turning on his stomach, and in doing so he got closer to her. Y/N, however, kept staring at the words on the page in front of her, unable to concentrate enough to actually understand what she was supposed to read because of that closeness. A little voice inside of her kept telling her “Reach for him. Lean on his shoulder.” But she was too shy to even just move a little closer to him, let alone do any of that. And if they were characters in a story, to any omniscient reader, a situation such as this one would be extremely frustrating: the two of them, lying together, their arms or legs brushing against each other’s every now and then, both of them pining for the other, but neither of them realising their feelings were reciprocated.

Eventually, Dustin walked in on them, wanting to bid goodnight to his sister, but remained dumbfounded when he realised Eddie was still there. “I thought you had already left. It’s 10:30. On a school night.”

“Dustin, we’re old enough to stay up late if we want to, you know that?” She replied, getting up from her spot, immediately missing the warmth irradiated from his body.

Dustin looked at his sister, then the man laying her bed, and left without saying anything. “Yeah, maybe he’s right. It is kind of late, and you probably want to go to sleep.” Eddie didn’t really want to leave. On the contrary, he wanted to stay with her for as long as she let him.

And the same went for Y/N. But she nodded at him and put her book on the desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, though, right?”

“Of course! Plus, I only have like 10 pages left to read, and I am completely enthralled. I really thought I wasn’t going to like this, but hell, was I wrong!” He smiled, putting the book in his backpack as slowly as possible, almost wanting to take everything out only to have to spend more time there putting everything back in. but he resisted the urge and put the backpack on his shoulder.

“So, no horror movie then?” She smiled, leading him out of her bedroom and down the corridor.

“Well, I mean… we could still watch a movie together some time… if you want, that is.” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, trying hard to play it cool. “It doesn’t even need to be a horror movie, really.”

Y/N stopped in front of the front entrance and turned towards him, smiling. “I would love that.” She opened the door for him and stood aside to let him through. She watched him walk down the driveway to his car, hoping he would turn around and come back to her. But he didn’t. He just got inside his car and started the engine. Fuck it, she thought, as she started running down the driveway too. “Eddie, wait!” She called for him. She jogged to his car and stopped for a few moments, before pushing herself on her tiptoe to reach his cheek and leave him a kiss there. Eddie was visibly caught by surprise, s much so that his cheeks started turning a soft shade of reddish pink, like they did that morning in the hallway at school. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He smiled, gently placing a hand on her cheek, the cold metal of his rings sending shivers down her spine. “I won’t, princess.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

After that, he waited for her to go back inside her house to do anything. But as soon as the door closed, he started basically dancing inside the car, humming the “Oh, love… oh, lover boy!” verse from Good Old Fashion Lover Boy by Queen as that was the song that had been stuck in his head for the entire night. Hell, what a day!

A/N: if you read this, thank you very much! Please, feel free to like and comment! I'd love to get some feedback! <3

[frutavel]

i saw you tagged an oc named samaela on my post. who are they im curious. please share with the class 👀

(aka “i made that post about a character archetype i love and getting to hear about new characters that fit that archetype is literally the best case scenario for me”)

Oh hi for the love of god hello!!!

This is Samaela. My babygirl. I desperately wish I had more recent art of her to share, but alas I don't. A quick scroll through my blog also shows that Most of the posts I've made talking about her are also a few years old and outdated at this point but rest assured I think about her Constantly.

Samaela is a World of Warcraft OC, and also one of my oldest OCs in general regardless of fandom/universe. Long story short, she's a Forsaken hunter with little to no memory of her past life but Vivid memory of her death (by werewolf) and a history of making bad decisions in the name of Living Deliciously.

She was resurrected post Death By Werewolf, and the process caused her to Become Werewolf. Sorta. She's a weird little fiend and an abomination even by undead standards, which leads to her necromancer running All Sorts of Tests and Experiements. Now those aren't as bad or nefarious as they sound, really, but Samaela gets tired of being a science project pretty quick, so she moves as far away from her necromancer as she can, makes a few friends and enters a 2-ish year long situationship with her Boybestfriend, during which she indulges in many bad habits such as hunting living humans for sport and eating them, which garners her a reputation for being vicious and needlessly cruel. She regrets some of it sometimes, mostly she doesn't care, and gets off mostly scotch free because she's very good at weaving stories that paint her in a good light, and her folks don't like humans anyway. Which just emboldens her.

(Here seen with her Boybestfriend, Tari, my other babygirl, after a bad hunt)

Eventually her Boybestfriend has to leave, and she is Very Sad about it but they part amicably. Unfortunately having her voice of reason and only person whom she trusted in this whole wide world move away makes her Worse. She continues to be Very Good At Lying, but still ends up in trouble with the authorities a handful of times, some friends turn their back on her as a result and she makes self preservation her number one priority. This leads to a sleuth of Decisions which eventually end up putting the life of someone at risk, someone Very Important to her Boybestfriend, and once he finds out their relationship cracks even more. She jumps to anger and resentment straight on and continues to push people away and make more Choices, until her own life is put at risk and she's forced to rethink.

Currently she's at this rethinking stage. She doesn't regret most of the things she did, but she regrets the things that affected her personally. Empathy is a hard concept for her to grasp, but she's willing to make an effort for her own sake. At her core she still wants to survive above all else, and if that means letting people help her..... well, she doesn't like it but she'll think about it.

Samaela is Difficult, and she will never not be. She needs a strong support system to help her, but unfortunately the mere thought of letting her walls down and being vulnerable makes her sick. She is hard to get along with and harder to like.... but a handful of people have gone through the effort it takes to love her all the same. That's enough for now to keep her from spiraling more, but her fate is very uncertain. She has many amends to make and she's not exactly willing to make all of them, but her self preservation instinct is so strong it might as well push her in that direction even if just to keep herself alive.

Despite her many Ls she has many Ws. Women want her. Men fear her. She fucks hard and nasty. She makes dioramas in her spare time. She is surprisingly good at keeping people safe. She likes the color green so much she always has at least One green acessory on her at all times. She's not very good at swimming but still loves the beach. She has a gender that can be best described as Indescribable. Woman, but watch out. She can also pretty effectively communicate with her hunting dogs due to her mutations, and her insides are so rancid due to the Experiments that getting bitten by her in an immediate death sentence, and she is quite fond of biting. Because of this some have taken to calling her Plaguehound <3

As for her previous life.... well that's a whole other mess. All I'll say is that she has two living siblings, one who hasn't given up looking for her, but neither one would recognize her now, and it's unlikely she'd recognize them either. She barely remembers enough about her human life to know her name, much less about her family.

In fact, she has met her older sister in the past. It didn't end well for the sister in question. Dog fights are gnarly 💖

[rjalker]

darthelmet1 commented 1 month ago (edited)

It’s so frustrating to have people who can see the problem, agree with you that it’s bad, and then still miss the point and do nothing about it.

This didn’t start a few months ago. It started nearly a century ago when the British did what they were great at: fucked around in other countries and stoked ethnic strife. Since then, settlers and eventually the Israeli government have used a mix of state sponsored terrorism and authoritarian policing to slowly push people off their land so it could be resettled. 35 thousand were killed in the last few months of a conflict that has lasted for generations and killed many thousands more.

Why is the knee jerk reaction to always clarify “well obviously I don’t like Hammas.”? It’s always easy for someone sitting on the sidelines with no stake in what’s happening to hand wring about the tactics oppressed people use to struggle against their oppressors. Hammas didn’t create the state of violence in the country, they’re responding to it. And if they’re going to fight a war to resist imperialists with vastly superior access to military resources, they can’t exactly fight a straight, clean war. They have to use guerrilla tactics like in Vietnam, or WW2 resistance fighters, or idk, the American Revolution just to name a few. War is never a nice thing. But if the choice is that or genocide, how can you blame them? When I’ve spoken to people about this, they’ll focus in on specific atrocities Hammas has committed (or sometimes supposedly committed, there’s a lot of misinformation so it’s hard to tell.) against a handful of Israelis. They have a visceral reaction to the horrific depictions they see, which is larger in their minds than the horrors of the mass killing of Palestinians, the destruction of their homes, or the denial of basic necessities, rights, and dignity.

I refuse to believe that any modern US president is just an essentially good guy who just is too afraid to break convention. There’s a reason why a lot of rich donors give to candidates across the aisle. Because no matter who’s the face of the country, the ones in power are still the capitalist class. And surprise surprise: There are financial interests in imperialism. Military contractors get money from building weapons, oil and other extractive industries make money from gaining access to the resources of other countries, and more broadly capitalists gain access to new markets, often on favorable terms. Etc. For the US, you shouldn’t assume war is an aberration we try to avoid. It’s the default. The country has spent most of its history in one war or another. A while ago I thought about just the major wars you learn about in school, and there hasn’t been more than a 20 year gap between each of these wars. And there are so many more military or intelligence “interventions” the US has been involved in besides those. Hell, the country was established in much the same pattern as Israel: Show up in a place that’s already occupied, label the current residents as savages that don’t really have any claim to the land, proclaim it’s your god given right to expand and settle the land, then proceed to genocide the people to accomplish that. The US gov is strategically and ideologically aligned with the Israeli government.

So in spite all of this, your solution is to just keep doing what we’re doing. Keep voting for the same people in hopes that we can somehow convince them to do something other than what they’ve been doing for the history of the country, despite us not being willing to wield any real power against them. “Oh but we should also protest. But not like that. You’re doing it wrong. The only acceptable form of protest is one that gets in nobody’s way and doesn’t bother anybody.” And aside from the ineffectiveness of these kinds of protests, the state cracks down on them violently anyway. Remember when people were protesting police violence, so the police did violence against them, and then Biden’s response was to give police departments more money? You can’t avoid violence. It’s inherent to the system. The only choice is whether you do something about it or let them keep doing it to you.

History didn’t start at the last news/election cycle. If you don’t understand that, there’s no hope for understanding how to fix anything. You’re just doomed to be stuck in this loop of being mad about whatever’s currently on TV and then doing nothing about it until the next thing makes you forget about the first.

EDIT: Also, before anyone starts saying stuff like "Well the civil rights movement was a peaceful protest and that worked." I ask you two questions:

1) Would you really have been on the right side of that when it was happening? Or would you have been one of the white moderates King wrote about who thought their methods were too disruptive and they just needed to be patient?

2) Did it ACTUALLY work? Sure, we got rid of explicitly discriminatory laws. But can you look at the state of the country today and say that it actually did much to address systemic racism and inequality? The legacy of redlining and the continuing reality of economic inequality has left many parts of the country still effectively segregated by race. I grew up in a town, in the north no less, where I could count the number of black people I saw on one hand. And that's not because none are in the area. You go a town or two over and the whole place is inhabited by people of color. There's no law that forces this reality, and yet segregation still exists. And in those marginalized communities, we over-police them and jail them based on drug laws we knew were deliberately targeting those communities and yet stayed around for half a century. And as we saw with BLM, the police still brutalize these people they're supposedly there to protect. Sure, we have a few more people of color in positions of power, but the reality for the vast majority of them is continued de-facto segregation.

As much as I want to believe in a society that can work things out in a peaceful, democratic way, that can only exist once systemic violence has been rooted out of society and people regain control of their government and workplaces. You have to be willing to rise to the challenge of facing an inherently violent system and you don't do that by playing by their rules.

[comradekatara]

please elaborate about the gaang and pop culture. eye emoji

mais bien sûr! 👀

aang wants to know all recent pop culture because he insists on being super cool and hip and in the know, so he’s always trying to absorb all the cultural references he can, especially the music, the slang, and the memes. but he also knows a lot about pop culture and popular slang from 100 years ago, especially air nomad culture, which completely alienates everyone whenever he references it, but he turns it around on them by insisting that it is cool, actually, because it’s retro, not to mention historically significant. no matter what aang is cooler than u, basically.

suki knows a lot of very specific pop culture, which is to say, kyoshi island pop culture. since the island was very isolated from the rest of the world up until extremely recently, there was also very little cultural exchange in the way of artistic imports, or popular slang. while they still speak the same language as the rest of the earth kingdom, kyoshi island has its own dialect and lots of slang terms that the rest of the world simply wouldn’t understand. kyoshi island is also a lot, well, queerer than the rest of the world, and their lexicon for navigating lgbt identity is both very wide-ranging and extremely specific. their memes involve a lot of historical references to kyoshi, and they say “great unagi!” as an exclamation, which her non-kyoshi friends think sounds stupid as all fuck. suki is the gaang’s go-to resource when it comes to knowledge of gender & sexuality, as well as (mostly useless) trivia about the life of avatar kyoshi—she actually knows more about kyoshi than aang does, which is a feat to be sure.

katara is very, very into water tribe culture and history (both south & north) and is always eager to learn everything she can about her people and her heritage. she’s also very into learning about air nomad culture, because it’s her duty as a fellow survivor of genocide to help keep other lost cultures alive, and also its her duty as aang’s best friend to listen to all his (very important) ramblings, especially when he talks about his home. she picks up a lot of earth kingdom pop culture on her travels, mostly getting very into their pop music and romance novels, but tries her hardest to avoid absorbing any fire nation pop culture, lest she be infected. no matter how hard she tries, she will never understand suki’s cultural references, and suki will never understand all the straight girl shit katara is into, but with their knowledge combined, they can basically form an entire index of contemporary cultural references. if there’s something suki doesn’t know about, rest assured that katara does, and vice versa.

sokka is obsessed with learning about, well, everything, and that obviously includes popular entertainment and the like. whenever he travels to a new place, he wants to know about what the locals are into, and absorb their culture: he loved seeing the earth rumble tournament in gaoling, the poetry house in ba sing se, the theater on ember island, and even training with the kyoshi warriors. he finds it so fascinating how groups of people across the world can be simultaneously so different in their practices, and yet all share a common humanity that binds them together. pop culture holds a significant place in the vast and complex puzzle that is understanding the world and its people, and sokka wants to know all of it.

toph knows all about earth kingdom high society culture, as well as popular sports across the earth kingdom. she knows the names of all the prominent wealthy families, as well as all the famous earth rumble champions. since she was raised on only the finest & the fanciest, she’s familiar with all the high-brow art of the earth kingdom, but being a pro at sneaking around, she’s also quite familiar with the more low-brow entertainment of the masses. she also knows of the most famous fire nation, water tribe, and even air nomad classics of art and literature, but is mostly clueless when it comes to contemporary pop culture outside of the earth kingdom, as she primarily learned history and current events through the lens of the avatars, prominent families, political figures, and great military leaders, as opposed to cultural icons such as artists, and certainly not [shudders] commoners. she really likes learning about her friends’ art from their respective homes, and doesn’t even mind when katara is like “how do you not even know about [x]??? oh my god you’re so sheltered!!!!” (well....for the most part.)

zuko does not know a damn thing about anything he doesn’t know about. all his cultural references come from theater and literature, and the only songs he knows is stuff he can play on the tsungi horn. his knowledge of geography exists entirely in proximity to the avatar’s location, and he doesn’t understand any of the slang his new friends keep using, especially suki’s. well, sure, he knows a lot about the fire nation royal family, the history & ritual of teamaking, how to break into heavily guarded fortresses, broadsword dual-wielding techniques... and other equally useless tosh that katara loves to make fun of him for. she insists on rectifying his knowledge of pop culture by making him listen to water tribe & earth kingdom pop songs, reading the latest trashy romance novels (they’re NOT trashy, sokka!!!!), and teaching him all about fashion outside of whatever stupid pointy armor fire nation nobles like to wear. sokka & toph think it is hilarious & adorable that zuko’s main reference points for culture are his mom, his uncle, and katara.

despite her parents attempts to shelter her from low-brow mass entertainment, vulgar slang, and youth culture, mai ends up absorbing a lot of pop culture anyway, and is constantly accidentally saying phrases she refuses to have to explain to her parents. she is very into mass entertainment, especially sports, but she thinks theater is a drag, especially when it’s corny, which, she claims, it usually is (yet another reason why she & zuko simply couldn’t make it work). eventually, she also becomes very attuned to the literary scene, and, after having some of her pieces published in important literary magazines (under a pseudonym of course), she becomes a prominent figure in those circles, as well as the world of stand-up comedy (she is beloved by her very niche yet devoted fanbase of sensitive smart alt girls). she also loves learning everything she can about and ingratiating herself in kyoshi island culture, because she loves how chill & gay they all are.

if mai knows a lot about pop culture considering her upper class position, ty lee knows twice as much. after all, she’s seen more of the world, and is far better at making friends with random people, anytime, anywhere. she thinks kyoshi island culture is especially cool (for the same reasons mai does, obviously), and loves implementing their cute gay slang whenever possible, especially in front of zuko & katara because their consistently befuddled reactions always prove hilarious. like sokka, she loves learning about new cultural references from everyone she meets, and like aang, she insists on being hip and cool and knowing all the slang and popular entertainment of the time & place. she is an absolute treasure trove of pop culture knowledge.

azula does not understand mass entertainment, youth culture, low-brow art, slang, or anything else so trivial. she is not some bumbling peasant who needs to satisfy herself with the mind-rotting entertainment designed to appease the masses. she knows of military conquest, strategy, and how to rule over the masses. she has no need to understand what they like, as she is their superior, and therefore only likes important things, of value. even zuzu’s little plays, ty lee’s silly circus acts, or her uncle’s fascination with his leaf water are stupid to her. pointless distractions for idiots. don’t you dare tell her there’s “cultural value” in “connecting with others.” she is a princess, you buffoon. she doesn’t need or want such frivolous “connections.” don’t be absurd.

[spiltscribbles]

Worth It

~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!

.-

Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.

Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”

“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.

“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”

“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.

“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.

They promptly ignore him.

“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”

“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”

Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”

“You’re a dog.”

“You’re being a total ass.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“But you love me though.”

“Just barely.”

“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”

“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 

“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.

“Fuck this.”

.-

Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.

He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.

For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.

In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.

And that’s fucking ridiculous.

This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!

Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 

The first time they met was completely on accident.

It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.

“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.

“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 

Sirius was in love.

“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.

“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.

He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”

“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”

Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”

“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.

They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.

 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.

So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.

Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!

And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.

Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.

As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.

Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.

“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.

He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.

“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.

And oh!

“Eureka!”

“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.

But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”

“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”

Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”

Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“So are your chances with Lupin.”

“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”

“What do you want from me you gnat.”

“Let me help with the fundraiser.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”

Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”

“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”

Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”

“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”

“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”

“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”

“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”

“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”

Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”

Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”

“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”

“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.

.-

It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.

“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”

“Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.

“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 

“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.

“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.

Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.

“You’re not gonna get him this way.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.

.-

One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.

Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.

“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”

Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”

Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”

“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.

“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”

Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”

“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”

Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”

“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.

Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.

.-

The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.

The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.

Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 

The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 

Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.

Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.

Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.

“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”

“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”

“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.

Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”

“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“

“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”

“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 

Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”

Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.

“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 

Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

“Okay, fair.”

“And brash too.”

“Right.”

“Also you tend—“

Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 

Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.

“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”

Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.

 “You wanna ask me out?”

“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”

“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”

He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.

[angsty-omi]

bokuto body shaming you

kotaro bokuto x reader

angst, fluff! happy ending, drabble

before you continue to read, please be aware of the following:

tw: eating disorder, eating, food, fatphobia, insecurity, bullying, and uh using the bathroom. LOL. i wrote this at 2 am because i couldn’t sleep. bear with me.

japan’s (and most of asia’s) beauty standards consists of a girl being size 00. obviously it is highly unfair and fatphobic. however, asian girls grow up to these same standards. therefore, when y/n is hurt over the fact that they called her fat, she gets offended. this is fiction and please remember your body is beautiful no matter what size!

now that you have read the precautions, enjoy!

today was super stressful, you missed breakfast because of work, clients took up your lunch time by feuding with their now divorced husbands, and you obviously couldn’t eat in the courtroom. you controlled the rumbles of you stomach and couldn’t wait to unlock your burgundy door. as you got home from work, bokuto was already on the couch.

“hey babe” he nonchalantly said.

“hi bubby”

as you walked over to the fridge, it was empty. you cried in agony.

“oooooh sorry i ate all of the leftovers”

your current state, was hangry. it was a clash of words to represent your current emotion. you snuck two middle fingers behind his head.

“i saw that,” he said while still looking at his game footage.

not having food in your system for longer than a day really upset you. so much so, you busted in tears out of frustration.

“literally all the places are closed at this hour, when i get home all i wanted was to ingest something, but you ate it all!” you sobbed.

“y/n, you’re blowing this out of proportion,”

“but i’m not! work has been so hard on me that i didn’t even have the opportunity to eat.”

“surely you had some sort of break, are you sure you’re not starving yourself again?” he laughed to himself.

your face was in shock.

in high school, you had an eating disorder. you hated the way you looked compared to the thin girls in your class. do you know how hard it is to be a size 4 in japan? thus, led to many insecurities being built up. while not eating, you also exercised quite frequently. and with no nutrients in you, your stomach salvaged itself. soon enough, you were on your road to being a size 2. however, one day you pushed yourself really hard. the girls in class A were talking about your rolls when you sit down. just the thought of that morning made you run faster. until you started to get light headed and pass out.

as you woke up, you were on a bench with a really attractive man at the end of it. you realized that your legs were on top of his lap. quickly, you sat upright, only to feel dizzy again.

“here take this,” the handsome man offered water.

you downed the whole thing, with water dripping out of your mouth. you then took your sleeve and wiped your mouth. for a good five seconds you were calm... until you realized how unladylike you were being. you looked over at the man and he was laughing. like, full on laughing.

“what’s so funny?”

“n-nothing it’s j-just the girls around here do the opposite of what you just did,” he barely spoke, not being able to contain his laughter.

“fine then i guess it’s time to tell you that i’m a dude”

the mans face went straight.

“god, i’m obviously kidding... what’s your name?”

“bokuto, yours?”

“y/n”

you both shook hands.

“now tell me y/n, as an athlete i know the main reasons of someone passing out like that.”

“are you anemic?” he asked.

you shook your head. then his face softened. oh, maybe he is smart.

out of nowhere, you started to tear up.

“are you okay?”

why do people ask that? when they ask that i cry even more.

he was a stranger, so you might aswell vent to him.

“it’s just been so hard keeping up with this body. you know how many times i just wanted to eat? like a fuck ton of food? but i literally couldn’t. i was hungry, yet when i looked at a fry it reminded me of my bullies. it fucking sucks.” you finally sobbed out. you were holding it in for so long, if felt kind of free to let it out. you looked over at bokuto, and he just listened intently. like he actually cared about your well-being.

“if i may, could i help you with that?” he got up the bench and lent out a hand.

and the rest was history. so when you heard those words out of bokuto’s mouth you instantly cried even more.

“obviously i’m not fucking starving myself.” you sharply stated.

“yeah no trust me y/n it’s pretty obvious that you’re not.”

the room was silent. did he just imply that i was fat?

“wait y/n-”

“have fun sleeping on the fucking couch” you slammed your shared bedroom door.

while it was closed, you immediately took off all your clothing. as you were just in your underwear, you grabbed your stomach. the fact that you could grab a handful of it, made you insecure again. like you were in high school. after a minute, you physically couldn’t look at yourself anymore. once your head hit the pillow you drifted off to sleep. having sleep for dinner feels oddly familiar.

when you slammed your door, bokuto had guilt written all over his face. he didn’t even understand why he said that. was he uncomfortable of how good his life was? and if that was the case, why did he have to jeopardize it this way? he finally realized that the life he had yesterday ago was pure happiness. he respected your wishes into sleeping on the couch that night. but, the next day he was going to make it all up to you.

as the sun just started to shine, he woke purposefully woke up early. hitting the farmers market to buy new ingredients for breakfast. his thoughts consisted of “y/n will like this” and “y/n loves these.” then, when he got home, he started cooking. whilst flipping the pancakes, he made sure to add extra love to it. he stacked the cakes with fresh berries on top, and a dazzle of “syrup goodness,” he likes to say.

as he knocks on the door and turns the knob, you weren’t there. his heart immediately dropped. he put down your breakfast on the dresser and his knees fell. crying for you. praying that you would come back.

his loud sniffles bothered you while you were shitting.

you yelled from the connected bathroom of your master, “BABE WHY ARE YOU CRYING”

silence.

you hear loud pattering running up to the bathroom and the door slammed open.

he quickly ran over to you and wrapped his arms around your head, “Y/N, MY DEAR Y/N, YOU’RE STILL HERE! MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED I AM SO SORRY THAT I SAID THAT I DIDNT MEAN IT, EVEN IF YOU WERE TO GET BIG THERE’D BE MORE TO LOVE AND YOU’D BE SQUIS-”

“okay that’s enough i get it.” you frowned.

“bo, this would be more romantic... if i currently wasn’t taking a shit, could you let go of me?”

“no.” he said, with the same face used when you guys met and told him you were a dude.

after you finished your business, you hopped in the shower, and so did he. never in your life have you seen someone so excited to shampoo your hair. while the conditioner soaked, you turned around facing him.

“so, i’m really okay the way i am?” you faintly whispered.

he shut you up with a passionate kiss. clearly annoyed that you would say that. first it was on your lips, slowly down your nape, then to your stomach.

you blushed at the fact that he skipped your boobs. or so you thought. out of nowhere he grips your right one with force and says “hey if i feed you enough, could i possibly make these bigger?” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes and got out. you could hear bokuto solemnly whining in the background. you truly loved this man. with all your heart.

[moonlit-jeno]

secrets | n.jm

genre/ warnings: vampire au, explicit sexual content, angst, way too much blood/ blood drinking, b i t i n g, character death (kind of), references to drugs, religion

word count: 9.5k

summary:

“I’m not scared.”

“No?” The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

notes: big thanks to @jaemallow for pushing the jaemin agenda and helping to keep me sane

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Mark grumbles at you, throwing an agitated glance over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and slow down even more just to spite him. “Dude, my dad’s going to kill me.” “He’ll be fine. Murder’s against the word of God, y’know.” You speed up despite your words, laughing at the way Mark glares at you. 

There’s a crack in the sidewalk that he trips over and you laugh good naturedly. The street leading up to the church is in less than optimal shape, littered with cracks in the sidewalk and missing chunks of cement. Mark’s dad had tried to raise money to fix the street, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Mark starts walking slower all of a sudden and you grumble, glaring at him when he grabs your wrist to yank you backwards. You’re about to ask what his problem is when you see the three figures at the end of the road, moving closer towards you two.

“You’re kidding me.” They hear it, they must, with their superhuman senses. It only makes them smile brighter. You glance at Mark. “Wanna turn around?”

“Too late.” Mark breathes, staring straight ahead of him with wide eyes. You look away from him to find the three vampires standing directly in front of you, blocking your way.

A groan leaves you and you cross your arms, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Can we help you?”

The ringleader of the bunch, Jaemin, smiles. “Well, since you’re offering, I suppose I am feeling a little hungry.”

The church is only one block down but if they don’t want to let you pass, you’re not going to get there. Mark shifts nervously next to you, shaking his head when you open your mouth to make a remark. That doesn’t stop you from saying it. “You realize that just because you’re from the 1200’s doesn’t mean that you have to talk like you’re from the 1200’s.”

“I resent that.” Jaemin frowns, clutching his hands to his chest likes he’s been stabbed. “I was born in 1706. It’s almost like you don’t care about me at all.”

“Is it? Must be because I don’t.” The other two vampires are silent, though one of them- Jeno- watches with amusement. The other one is unfamiliar and looks like he’s trying to figure out to pair you with white or red wine. You shudder and turn your attention to Jeno. “Nice cross. I thought shit like that burned your skin? You know, because you’re a demon and all that.”

Jeno’s eyes smile with him and it’s hard to remember that he’s a monster. He brushes his thumb against the small mark under his eye, shrugging. “Nah, only the blessed ones. Or, y’know, the silver ones. But this one? I just wanted to piss off the church daddy who told me that I deserved to rot in worse places than the sewer.“

You snort before you can stop yourself. “Church daddy?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Church daddy, father, same thing.” A pause. “Hey, Mark, isn’t that your dad?”

Mark avoids eye contact and nods. “Yeah, but I like, I don’t like, speak for him, y’know?” He laughs nervously.

“You don’t have to.” That’s the one you don’t recognize, glaring at Mark. “We can tell it’s what you’re thinking. You don’t even have the decency to look at us?”

“And who are you? Their vampire bitch or something?” You snap to Mark’s defense, not wanting the vampires to prey on Mark’s nerves.

The boy lunges like he’s going to attack you but Jeno grabs him by the neck. Jaemin laughs. “Careful princess, that hits a little too close to home for our little Renjun over here.” To clarify, he leans a little closer and lowers his voice. Not like it matters, the other two can hear him just fine. “Jeno got carried away while feeding the other day and turned him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and this time you don’t have a witty comeback. Vampires are monsters, yes, but they have laws. And it is very, very illegal to turn a human. “That’s-”

“Against the law?” Jeno finishes. “Yeah. It was an accident though, plus he’s from out of town! So I can’t technically get in trouble.”

“Technically.” You mock, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, we’ve got places to be so if we could speed this conversation up?”

Jaemin pouts. “So soon? You’re already late for church, why even bother going?”

You stand your ground. “Good bye, Jaemin. Make sure you do a better job of training your new puppy.” Renjun snarls at you.

“What, like how you trained your puppy?” Jaemin nods over at Mark and the boys face turns red. “Bye, y/n, Mark. I’d ask you to say hello to God for me but he doesn’t exist!”

He walks off with that as a goodbye, Renjun and Jeno on his heels. Jeno at least has the decency to smile at you and tell you to have a good rest of your day.

They’re right about one thing: going to church when you‘re already late sucks. A few people glance back at you and Mark when you sneak in, sitting in the last row. You spot your parents sitting in the front row along with Mark’s brother. Luckily none of them notice you slipping in, so they won’t know just how late you were.

Mark seems on edge and you pat his knee, frowning at how violently he flinches. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He just gives you a tight smile. Mark’s always been a nervous kid, so you figure it has to do with the little vampire interaction you just had. Or fear that his dad will yell at him for being late. They’re both pretty scary.

It’s not until after the service that you talk to your parents- your mother taking the time to hug Mark and pinch his cheeks before she even looks at you- and your father asks where you were.

“It was my fault, sir.” Mark speaks up, knowing that your parents adore him and won’t be upset. “I couldn’t find my church clothes, I forgot that they were in the wash and had to sort through all of my laundry. Y/n was an angel and stayed with me to help.”

“Huh,” Your father says, looking Mark up and down. “Well, your shoes could use a good polishing, but you look sharp, kid. Good man.” He pats Mark’s shoulder and walks off to talk to a friend. Your mother raises an eyebrow and shrugs, loading you up with tasks to take care of when you get home.

Do the dishes, fold the laundry, remember to take the store bought pie out of the container and pop it onto a plate so that it looks homemade. “Oh, and one last thing.” She stops you, turning away from her conversation about her book club meeting with some lady that she can’t stand. “I don’t want you walking through the city. Those vampires are getting braver and braver, attacking in broad daylight.”

“Okay, I’ll take the long way.” You promise her. She nods, and satisfied that you won’t die, turns back to her friends. You say goodbye to Mark and a handful of other people- most of whom you don’t like- and head home.

You have absolutely no intention of taking the long way home. It adds an extra half an hour to your walk and you swear you always get attacked by bugs. Besides, vampires might be dangerous, but it’s not like you have a high chance of encountering one. The three you’d talked to earlier were harmless, two of them attending your same university.

Jeno did medical research, occasionally stepping in to teach if the professors needed help. He’s technically a doctor, but he finds ways to multitask. The benefits of being immortal, you suppose, is that you learn a lot, especially if you’ve been alive since the 1100’s. He was nice enough by himself, though he would never answer your questions about history. Not that he wouldn’t try, but the poor guy would just get so confused that he would end up rambling about a completely unrelated topic.

Jaemin was a little different. He took classes, though his goal was to learn about interesting topics and keep up with the culture, not to fit in like Edward Cullen and prey on teenage girls. For someone so old, he’s surprisingly good at the technology classes, learning how to use a camera faster than your much younger parents. Jaemin also holds tutoring sessions for struggling students, pretty much offering help for every subject. Sometimes he assists Jeno with his research, though he never says what they’re researching. It’s always the same vague answer: medicine.

You know them pretty well, and yet you wouldn’t say that you’re friends. Vampires and humans coexist, but it’s not always that peaceful. There’s a definite divide between the two, a definite feeling of “we’re better than them” coming from both sides. And you can see why that divide is there, you can understand why.

After all, it’s not like you’re too fond of vampires yourself.

Cursed to hell, is a phrase used too often by your parents, by the church. God’s reject’s is another. And when you look at them, it’s hard to disagree with those statements.

They don’t burn in the sun but they can’t touch silver, can’t say God’s name, can’t enter a building without explicit permission. They catch on fire when they enter holy places (they’re fine to enter the one across town, but that’s another story).

Similar insults are used to describe humans. “How can you call us God’s rejects when you die so easily?” One vampire had countered when you were in middle school, pointing out that vampires couldn’t get diseases or die of natural causes like a human. He’d called you weak. You’d thrown a cross at him. Both of you had been suspended.

Still, you don’t hate vampires. And you especially can’t hate vampires now, not when you’re failing your chemistry class and your only option for help is Na Jaemin.

Mark has a different opinion. “Y/n, you can’t go to his house! He’ll kill you!”

You laugh. “Mark, come on. It’s either he kills me, or my parents kill me when they find out I wasted my tuition on a class I failed. It’ll be fine.” He still looks unhappy. You wiggle your fingers at him. “Look! I have silver rings on. I’m wearing my cross. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling your parents you were killed by a vampire, y/n.” He sounds dead serious and you raise your eyebrows. 

“Mark, I’m helping with a research project. I’m not deciding to work for the food bank.” You point out. “This is the only way I can make up my grade, Mark. It’s generous of my professor to even let me do this.” He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you, and pulls his necklace off. Walking closer, he drapes the silver cross over your head. “Fine. Just, please be careful.” You smile and pat his cheek, tucking the charm under the collar of your shirt. “I always am.”

Jaemin lives in a pretty nice house on the top of the hill, which sucks because your calves are burning by the time you get up there. It has a pretty view, though, and it’s a decent distance away from his closest neighbor. You always joke that he could kill someone up here. Going up alone, that joke doesn’t seem as funny.

He’s got an old fashioned knocker on the wooden door that you only use because you’re not too fond of digging splinters out of your hands. It makes a pretty solid sound, and it barely takes five seconds before Jaemin answers the door. He looks good, wearing a dark blue button up with his hair pushed off of his forehead. Almost like he put some effort in. He obviously catches you giving him a once over and he grins.

“Eager to see me?” You tease, stepping past him into his house. He laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course. The world revolves around you, I just had to get a glimpse.” Jaemin drawls. 

“Alright, what’s the research project?” You ask, wanting to get straight to the point. “I’m only here because I need to pass my class, Jaemin.

He takes his time flipping through a book on his coffee table before glancing up at you, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms. “The effects of vampire blood in humans.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket. “If you say that you’re making me drink your blood, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking hell, y/n. I know you humans have a problem with vampires, but I’m a researcher. I do research, and I do it just as responsibly and professionally as human researchers.” Jaemin snaps, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard him not use a flirting or teasing tone. “And besides, we already know what that would do. It would only turn you.” You swallow thickly at the thought of being turned. “Then what do you need me here for?” “We just need a few of your cells and a tiny blood sample.” Jaemin says, moving to where you stand next to the counter. “We’re researching if vampire blood has an effect on strengthening human cells, or preventing undesirable circumstances that affect humans. You know, aging, disease, the like.” He hands you some paperwork and you glance over it briefly. There’s nothing about him draining you dry of blood, so you sign it. “Great. We won’t be taking the samples today considering we’re at my house, but I’ll walk you through the basics of what we’re doing. You know, assuming that you’re smart enough to understand it.” “I’m not fucking dumb, Jaemin.” You snap, glaring at him.

“No, of course not.” He sympathises, smiling down at you. “Just a little slow. Come on y/n, you’re failing one of the easiest courses at the university. You’re not exactly smart.”

You shove the papers over to Jaemin, purposely letting your silver rings graze his exposed skin. Jaemin flinches back from your touch, a sharp hiss leaving him as he grabs at his wrist. He glares at you. “You fucking serious?”

It’s mean, but what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You meet his gaze head on, eyebrow arched. “What’s the matter, leech? Can’t take the heat?” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to ground himself. It’s probably not smart to goad him, but that’s exactly what you do. “Aww, don’t ignore me, leech. It’s rude. Didn’t your parents ever teach you any manners?”

All the air in your body leaves you with a whoosh as Jaemin pins you up against the wall, wrists held over your head by one of his hands. A dull pain radiates through your body and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your back from the impact, not that Jaemin seems to care. The boy stares down at you with dark eyes, standing way too close for comfort. 

“My parents died 300 years ago.” Jaemin snarls. “But yours are still alive. Didn’t they teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re not older than me.” The words are intended to be fierce, defiant. They come out shaky, timid. “You’re a dead man, Jaemin.”

That makes him laugh, though you don’t think he’s found your words funny. “Yeah? Do I seem dead to you?” He tightens his grip on your wrist and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, make you look him in the eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat, little girl. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You are. He knows that.

“No?” He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side before dipping down, letting his mouth hover over your neck. “Not even now?”

You shake your head, swallowing down a whimper. He’s right about your heartbeat, it’s fluttering so frantically that you can hear it in your ears, feel it under your skin. You’re scared, but not for the reasons he thinks you are.

Jaemin smiles at you, fangs on full display, and moves even closer to your neck. The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

He scrapes his fangs along your neck, an action that’s painful in the most pleasurable way, but doesn’t break the skin. His tongue darts out instead, soothing over the pain before his lips press to your skin in an open mouthed kiss. Your fingers flex above your head and you ache to touch him, to fist your hand in his soft hair and pull him closer.

A moan leaves you and he pulls away, pressing his thumb to the area. Jaemin can feel your pulse from there and he smirks at how frantically your heart beats.

“You’re not scared?” Jaemin asks, the question condescending. He doesn’t believe you. “You do realize that I could sink my fangs into your pretty little neck and drain you dry, right?”

The mention of him biting you drags a keen out of your throat, and you find yourself whimpering out a “please” before you can help yourself. It has Jaemin pausing, eyes roaming over you as he reassesses the situation.

“Oh, you really aren’t scared.” Jaemin smirks. “Who knew that you were so fucking filthy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, dipping his head down and trailing the tip of his tongue up your throat. It feels nice, so, so nice, but it’s interrupted by a burning pain, a sob ripping from you at the intensity of it.

You thrash against his hold, but then the pain starts to get replaced with a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you slowly melt into his touch, arching against him to expose more of your throat.

Jaemin pulls away eventually, licking over your wound a few times before pulling back to give you a bloody grin. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, and the bliss must be apparent on your face because Jaemin chuckles darkly before leaning back in. “You want more, don’t you?”

“Yeah, want it.” The words are breathless and slur together, your body thrumming with heat, begging for more. Jaemin does the opposite of what you want and steps away.

“Be a good girl and take those fucking rings off, then.” Jaemin commands, and you swear you’ve never moved faster than you’re moving now, carelessly dropping your jewelry to the floor. Mark’s necklace lands near his foot and he scowls at it, crushing the piece of metal beneath the heel of his shoe.

You immediately grab for him when you’re done, but Jaemin doesn’t let you pull him forward. He just scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the sofa. You end up straddling his lap, his back pressing into the couch, and he wastes no time before sinking his fangs back into your neck.

“God,” You breathe out, winding your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to you. “F-fuck, Jaem, that feels so good.”

He just hums against your throat, continuing to suck and lick at the wound. There’s a little bit of blood on his lips when he pulls away and you wipe at it with your thumb before letting the digit slip past his lips. He sucks on it slowly, gazing up at you with dark eyes, and lets his fangs graze the skin. Arousal jolts through you and you whimper, pulling your hand away and dragging him back to your neck.

“Baby wants more?” Jaemin teases, not waiting for an answer before sinking his fangs into you, this spot even more sensitive than the last. You whine loudly, tugging at his hair and feeling your eyes roll back in your head at the euphoria spreading through your body. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s so much heat coursing through you that you can barely function.

“Mhmm, yeah.” You pant out. “Want more. Oh my God Jaemin, I’m so fucking wet.”

Jaemin groans at your words, one of his hands sliding up your thigh before moving inwards, cupping your pussy over your clothes. He pulls his hand away when you try to grind down, grabbing onto your hip to stop your movements.

“No.” He growls, the simple word vibrating through your entire body and making you shake. “You come from this, nothing else.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as you hold onto him for dear life, your core clenching desperately around nothing. You hug him tighter, letting your head fall back on your shoulders to expose more of your throat, your lips parted to let Jaemin drag sound after sound of pleasure out of you. It feels good, way too good considering the action, and you lose yourself to the feeling.

The collar of your shirt is tugged down and then Jaemin’s lips are attaching to the top of your breast, fangs sinking into the delicate flesh. You keen and shove your chest further into his face, not knowing what else to do besides hold onto him for dear life. Your body feels heavy but your head feels light and it’s such a startling contrast to the euphoria coursing through your veins that it makes you dizzy. It’s hard to see straight, let alone think straight, and your pussy throbs with every little bit of blood that Jaemin takes from your body. Your hips rock against nothing but air, desperately searching for some sort of friction, something to fill your needy cunt, but you can’t find anything and it has you sobbing out in frustration.

More bite marks are left, more electricity shoots through your body, more wetness drips out of your pussy. You swear you’ve never felt this good in your life, and that’s only confirmed when Jaemin seals his lips over the first mark he left, licking and sucking at the wound until it opens all over again and you feel yourself falling, white flashing behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life crashes over you. You grab at Jaemin as tightly as you can, screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he drags out your pleasure, lets you get high off all of his kisses and bites.

It lasts forever, and it takes even longer for you to come down to yourself, Jaemin stroking your hair and your back. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his face clean and dry of any blood. It takes you a while to notice that there’s an ice pack on your neck and a plate of food on the table in front of you, and you vaguely wonder how long you were out for if Jaemin had time to do all of this for you.

“Don’t move too fast, baby.” Jaemin cautions, noticing you struggling to sit up. “I took way more blood than I meant to, you’re gonna feel a little weak.” “A little?” Your muscles feel like jelly when you try to push yourself off of him and you collapse back onto Jaemin’s chest with a soft groan. Jaemin huffs a laugh and helps you sit up, turning you around on his lap so that your back is to his chest. He drops a soft kiss to your ear and your eyelids flutter. 

“Here, take these.” Pills are dropped into your hand, a bottle of some energy drink you don’t recognize. “It’ll replace all the nutrients and stuff you lost.” Jaemin watches you down the drink in one go, tossing it across the room when you hand the empty bottle back to him. “How are you feeling?”

Your vision is much clearer than it was, though you still feel lethargic and would like to do nothing except lay down in a soft bed for the rest of your life. “My head hurts.” Jaemin hums. “Okay. I would rattle off some instructions for you to follow but I know it’ll just make your headache worse. I’ll write them down for you instead, how’s that.” “You’re so self aware.” Reality hits you when you feel the bruises on your throat, on your chest, and realize that yes, all of that did just happen. “Um. I didn’t know it could feel that-” You trail off, hand waving vaguely in the air. “Good?” Jaemin offers, laughing when you nod. “Mhmm, did they not tell you about that? I’m sure they make it sound like being bitten by a vampire is the worst thing imaginable at that fancy church you go to.” You look away, embarrassed, and Jaemin laughs. “You know that humans make drugs out of our saliva, right? That’s why there are hunters.” Your eyes shoot open in alarm. “Really? That’s awful.”

 Jaemin hums, nodding. “Yeah, well, when it’s profitable...” He laughs bitterly. “Anyways, it’s an expensive drug. And you just got that shit for free.”

“I feel so honored.” You laugh, snuggling into him. He pushes you back. 

“Y/n, I need you to understand something.” Jaemin says, tone suddenly serious. His eyes burn straight into your soul. “That was a mistake. I’m not- we can’t do that again.”

It shouldn’t hurt you. What you just did is considered shameful by many, you should be relieved that he’s telling you it can’t happen again. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with a vampire. “Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod, looking away from his intense gaze to blink back your tears. “Yeah, we just got carried away.” Jaemin looks like he wants to say something else, lips parting for a second before shaking his head, offering a tight smile instead. “We got everything done that we needed to get done. You should rest now.” 

He doesn’t mean now as in right this second, which he made especially clear after telling you that it was a mistake, but you can’t help it. You’re asleep in seconds.

When you wake up for the second time, Jaemin is nowhere to be found. You’re in your own bed, tucked in nice and neatly, and you smile as you realize it meant that the vampire had carried you home. There’s the list of instructions that he’d promised you on your nightstand, signed with nearly illegible hand-writing. Your smile grows before promptly dropping off. Vampires can’t get into a house without being invited. You’ve never invited him in, which means that he must’ve either asked permission from Mark or your parents. Neither is good.

The gravity of the situation hits you when Mark walks into your room, jaw set, arms crossed. He blanches when he sees your neck, the sight clearly making him uncomfortable. “Holy- y/n, I told you that you couldn’t trust Jaemin. You’re lucky I was here when you brought you home because I can guarantee your parents would react way worse than me.”

“Jaemin was fine. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” You see the exact moment that those words process in Mark’s mind, his face going from worried to angry.

“You let him drink from you? What were you thinking? Y/n, you look like you got mauled.” Mark sounds disgusted and you try not to shrink into yourself.

The bruises ache when you press over one of them and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you at how it makes you shiver. “Relax, it’s not like I let him turn me. We just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Mark, it felt so good.” Your eyelids flutter shut at the memory, snapping back open when Mark scoffs.

“So what? You want to be their blood bag now?” Mark’s voice rises in pitch as he yells and the sound grates on your nerves. “Wanna be a vampire whore for the rest of your life? Live in a dusty ass attic and let whoever walks by have a go at you?” “Mark, what- do you hear yourself? What the fuck is your problem?” Mark’s been your best friend since you were five. Never, never, have you heard him talk like this. It hurts.

“Do I hear myself? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that. Here you are, creaming yourself while talking about letting some fucking, some bloodsucker tear your throat open! It’s disgusting.” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as Do-” He cuts himself off suddenly, but you know what he was about to say. “Just as bad as who? Donghyuck?” You shake your head, feeling hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. “It must run in the family to become filthy disappointments, then.”

Mark’s eyes soften and he grabs your wrist, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb. “It’s not too late for you. Let’s go to the church, you can pray for forgiveness.”

You feel numb when you nod, letting Mark wrap a scarf around your neck and lead you down the road. He sits next to you in the pews, rubbing your shoulder while you rest your forehead on your hands, pretending to pray. But you can’t focus, can’t stop thinking about your brother.

Donghyuck was Mark’s best friend before you were. The three of you would hang out a lot, though you only joined the two because as Donghyuck’s younger sister, he felt obligated to include you. The two boys were inseparable, and then one day, they weren’t.

Your parents say that he was tainted by the devil. Mark’s father says that he betrayed God. You think Donghyuck simply fell in love. And love is a beautiful thing, but not when it’s between a vampire and a human. Your brother was forced to choose between his family and his love.

In the end, he chose love. 

That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to stop thinking about your brother. If he’s alive, if he’s a vampire. If he’s dead. What you would do in his situation. Not that it matters, because you wouldn’t fall in love with a vampire, but you can’t help but wonder. Is it really that bad? They were once human, too. 

The thought doesn’t leave your mind even when you go to the lab, meeting an uncharacteristically quiet Jaemin, and a very excited looking Jeno. “Y/n! Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yeah, well, gotta pass my classes somehow.” You laugh. Jaemin doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at him, keeping his gaze just a little too low and frowning. 

“Seriously though, this is great. I’ve been trying to get permission for this experiment for ages, the fact that the administration finally caved is insane.” Jeno says, turning to ruffle through some papers on the desk. You shoot a curious glance at Jaemin, finally realizing that he’s staring at your neck. Or well, your covered neck. He’s trying to see the marks. With a glance towards Jeno, you carefully slide the fabric of your turtle neck down, laughing silently at how Jaemin inhales sharply, lips parting slightly. You yank it back up when Jeno turns around. “Jaemin informed you of the experiment, correct?” You shoot Jaemin a look. “Yeah! You just need to take a couple of blood samples, right?” Jeno shakes his head, tilting his head at Jaemin. “Not exactly. We’re going to need you to take microdoses of vampire blood.”

It takes a moment to register. “You want me to drink vampire blood?” You screech, eyes bulging. “That’s going to turn me!” Jeno shakes his head, laughing. “With the amount we’re giving you? No. It’ll only turn you if a vampire drinks your blood, and you die. You’ll be fine.” Next to you, Jaemin stiffens. You bite your lip. “Um. Like at the same time, or?” “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time. If you’ve been bitten before, you can’t drink any blood or you’ll be turned. But again, that’s only if you die.” Jeno tilts his head. “Have you been bitten before?” “Jeno.” Jaemin draws his attention away before you can respond. “It’s just a microdose, right? Like, barely enough to have an effect?” He considers this. “Well, I mean, not enough to have negative effects.” 

You and Jaemin share a long look. Jaemin had drunk your blood not even a week earlier. It's dangerous. But it’s a small amount. Jeno said there wouldn’t be any negative effects. And you can’t fail this class. You send Jaemin a pleading look. Jaemin swallows thickly and looks back to Jeno.

“She’ll be fine?” Jaemin’s voice is shaky. 

Jeno nods. “Caring for a human? That’s odd, coming from you. But yeah, she’ll be fine.”

You exhale heavily. “I’ll do it.”

There are more papers to be signed, more blood to be drawn. Though this time Jeno takes it in a much more professional manner, drawing it out and putting it into a test tube. Next to you, Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut and you watch his jaw clench. You want to tease him but you can’t, not in front of Jeno.

Despite Jeno’s reassurances, the worry doesn’t leave you. He doesn’t know what you and Jaemin did, doesn’t know that you’ve been bitten by a vampire. And maybe it doesn’t matter- it’s not like you’re going to die or anything, which is what needs to happen for you to turn- but you need some sort of comfort. 

That’s how you end up bailing on your Friday night dinner with Mark’s family, saying that you need to finish a project that’s due that night. Your parents roll their eyes and scold you for not taking your studies seriously, but let you skip the dinner. Mark shakes his head at you, disapproving of you working with a vampire, but keeps his mouth shut. 

If Jaemin’s surprised when you show up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He just smirks at you, leaning against the door frame. “Hey blood bag.” You scoff and shove past him into the house, dropping down onto the sofa you sat on last time. “When did you start calling me that, leech?”

“When you let me drink from you.” Jaemin says plainly, sitting next to you. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but-” “But we didn’t tell Jeno you drank from me.” You interrupt. “We need to tell him. He’s been waiting forever for this, he’ll be devastated if we ruin it.”

Jaemin nods, considering it. “Y/n, you know you’ll get kicked off the project if we tell him, right?” You nod, biting your lip. “Look, Jeno’s been my best friend for hundreds of years. I hate keeping this from him more than you do.” “Then why are you?” It doesn’t make sense. You’re certainly not friends, or at least you weren’t before last week. 

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are dark and it looks like there’s a war raging behind them, but he doesn’t elaborate on what’s bothering him. The sharp points of his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bites it nervously, blood beading at the cut when he finally looks back at you.

You don’t think when you bring your thumb up to swipe at his lower lip, skin coming away red. Jaemin watches in fascination as you bring the digit up to your own mouth, sliding it past your lips, sucking the blood away. He swallows thickly.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” You ask, glancing from his lips to his face. He shakes his head gently.

“It feels good for you because of our saliva.” Jaemin explains. “But it doesn’t feel bad when you do it, it’s just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand as if trying to pull the words out of thin air. “It’s very intimate.”

He licks his lips, then, digs his teeth back into his bottom lip. It’s a subconscious movement but you still lean in to press a kiss over where the blood pricks up, nipping just hard enough to have a growl rumbling in Jaemin’s chest before soothing the wound with your tongue. You pull away and smile, licking the blood off of your lips. 

You don’t even have time to make a witty remark over how affected Jaemin looks because he’s pulling you onto his lap, crashing your lips together with enough force that you’re sure they’ll bruise. It draws a moan from you and Jaemin eagerly drinks it in, fisting his hand in your hair and deepening the kiss. 

A gasp leaves you when he pulls away, trails his lips down your throat. You tense in anticipation, a whine getting trapped in your throat when his fangs just barely scrape the skin. He leaves a wet kiss there, pulling away to look up at you. “Want me to bite you, baby?”

“God, yeah.” You moan out, tilting your head to expose more of your neck. 

“Ah, I’d rather you didn’t say that name in my house.” Jaemin laughs. He moves back to your throat, digging his fangs into the spot he’d marked. There’s less pain this time, pleasure coursing through you almost instantly. You whine and tighten your grip on his hair.

Electricity runs through your veins as Jaemin takes what he wants, marking up your body. You breathe out something along the lines of “want more” and Jaemin takes it to heart, scooping you up and carrying you to his room in record time. He tosses you onto the mattress, crawling over you not even a second later to press his lips to yours. 

He fits himself easily between your legs, rocking his hips down in a rare show of desperation. You can feel exactly how affected he is, his hardness pressing deliciously against your core. Another plea of “more” is whispered against his lips and he doesn’t need any more encouragement, pulling away to move further down your body. He kisses and nips his way down your torso, pushing your shirt up to reveal more skin to him, dropping kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants. Your core throbs at the feeling of having him so close to you and you squirm, trying to spread your legs more, trying to articulate that you need something, anything. 

“J-Jaemin, take them off.” You whine, pushing at the waistband. “I need you.”

The coldness of his hands brushing against your skin when he drags your pants down has you shivering, squirming. He tosses your clothing to the floor and wastes no time attaching his lips to the inside of your thigh, holding you down when you squirm. 

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks, concern mixing with his arousal. He brushes his index finger over your pussy, making your back arch in an effort to get him closer to where you need him. 

“More than.” Despite your assurances, Jaemin doesn’t touch you. He moves his hand up to your abdomen, flattening his palm to keep you pinned down. You whine in annoyance, but the teeth dragging over your inner thigh has you shutting up. A gasp leaves you before he even sinks his fangs in, your pussy absolutely throbbing with need. He presses another gentle kiss to the skin and, raising his gaze to make eye contact with you, bites you.

It’s more intense than when he bit your neck or your chest. It sets your body on fire in the best of ways, leaves you writhing under his touch. Your eyes roll in your head and your hands flail in an effort to grab something, anything to ground yourself. It’s amazing, and just when you think you’ve reached heaven, he touches you.

You’re soaking wet and Jaemin’s fingers slide into you effortlessly, fill you up so well. It’s too much effort to keep your eyes open and so you let them drift shut, let yourself fall into the bliss. There’s pressure against your lips and you open your eyes to find Jaemin hovering over you, sliding two fingers past your lips. You didn’t even realize he’d stopped biting you.

“Suck.” He commands, and who are you to disobey? You wrap your lips around the digits and hum at the taste of yourself, at the weight of them in your mouth. “Taste good, baby?” “Mhmm, yeah.” Your words are slurred around the digits and you suck even harder around them, letting your tongue trace patterns around them. Jaemin swears softly and grinds down against your thigh. 

He presses one more kiss to your lips before sliding down your body. “My turn to taste.”

Maybe there should be some sort of alarm going through your system when Jaemin lowers his mouth to your core. Some sort of reminder that he has some very sharp fangs, that he has just bit you in multiple places, and that his fangs are right in the place that fangs should never be. But it feels heavenly when he licks a stripe between your folds, when he fucks his tongue into your hole. His hands keep you pinned to the mattress, super strength coming in handy to control your squirming. 

The pleasure consumes you and it’s so much, too much, and your eyes want to squeeze shut but Jaemin looks up at you and his gaze is magnetic, making it impossible to look away from him. Your body’s on fire, burning brighter with every flick of his tongue, every moan he lets out into your core. He pulls away to drop his head to the apex of your thigh, digging his fangs into the delicate skin there, and you can’t fight the scream that rips from your throat. You’re babbling, chanting incoherent words as you try to explain how good it feels, how you never want him to stop. His hair is soft in your grip and it’s the only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing preventing you from drowning in pleasure. 

“You taste so good, baby.” Jaemin moans, pulling away momentarily to make a show of licking his lips. “Everything about you is so delicious.” He returns to your core, lapping at your hole before flicking his tongue over your clit, laughing at how your body jolts. There’s nothing but hunger in his eyes as he sucks your clit between his lips, fucking two fingers into your needy cunt. He does it again, hitting all of your sensitive spots, making you scream with bliss as you finally tip over the edge. 

Wave after wave of euphoria crash into you and your lungs burn as your gasp for air. You’re drowning in the best way possible, surrounded by nothing but pleasure and Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

He works you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, hands smoothing over your thighs to bring you back down. You manage to find enough strength to shove at his head when it gets to be too much, tiredly sinking into the mattress when he pulls away. Jaemin wipes at his mouth and bends down to kiss you lazily, nipping at your lip just to hear you whine. He smooths your hair down and brushes a few strands out of your face, smiling down at how fucked out you are. And you’d be content to lay wrapped in his arms, with Jaemin cooing softly at how pretty you are and petting your head, but you can feel how hard he is.

“Jaemin,” You murmur, shifting in his hold. “Jaem, wanna make you feel good.” “It’s alright, you don’t h- oh, shit baby- you don’t have to.” He has to fight to get the words out, a groan interrupting his sentence when you grab at his cock. You pout at him and manage to tug his pants down just enough for you to pull him out. 

“But I want to.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss. Jaemin doesn’t bother replying, just presses his lips back to yours and melts into your touch. The way you jerk him off is lazy, your energy drained from how intense your orgasm was. Though with the way Jaemin groans against your lips and tightens his grip on your hip, you don’t think that he minds.

He moans your name when he comes, a beautiful sound that has your stomach twisting with heat. White spills over your knuckles and onto his stomach and you bring your hand up to your mouth, licking at it curiously. Jaemin watches you with heavy lids before collapsing onto the mattress. 

“Fuck,” He sighs, eyelids drifting shut. “Why’re you so good to me?” “Why are you so good to me?” You mumble back in response, curling up into him. “Thanks for not biting my pussy.” Something  about that sets Jaemin off and his body shakes with the laughter running through him. A giggle leaves you. “What?” Jaemin shakes his head, still laughing. “Nothing. Come on, gotta get you some food.” 

And that’s how it goes. You and Jaemin continue to hook up, although he does end up saying ‘fuck it’ and attempting to actually teach you chemistry. Despite Mark’s fears, he doesn’t end up killing you. He’s a lot of fun to be around, plus he keeps his pantry stocked with various snacks. Sometimes he even cooks for you, if he’s feeling nice.

“What’s a vampire doing with all this food?” You ask one day, watching him make fried rice. He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the pan and offering you a shrug, though you swear you see him blush. 

Your professor raises your grade to a C. It’s not stellar but it also isn’t failing, which you will happily take. There’s only a little bit of guilt when she beams at you while telling you how happy Jeno is with your dedication to the project. 

Jeno continues to take blood samples, and you continue to not tell him that you’ve been bitten. It eats you up inside, but Jaemin’s always there to reassure you. Whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself more is up for debate.

Everything stays the same except for Mark.

He gets more distant, grows a little more resentful. There’s no smiles or teasing jokes, except for the polite ones he flashes in front of your parents. He starts to make up lies, too, which is something you promised to never do. Excuses to get him out of plans, saying there’s nothing wrong. And your best friend, the most timid, nicest boy you’ve ever met, begins to pick petty fights with you.

You’re over it, and it bothers you even if you try not to let it show. Jaemin rubs your back and tells you it’ll be okay, but you know it won’t. Because Jaemin’s the reason that Mark’s distant. And you have no plans to stop seeing him.

Talking to Jaemin, you’re sure Mark would have liked him if the circumstances were different. If Mark didn’t hate vampires so much, or if Jaemin were just a regular human college student like you. But those aren’t the circumstances, and so you have to deal with Mark’s whiny ass showing up at your door to drag you to church.

“Mark, it’s Thursday night.” You groan, shaking your textbook at him. “I have work to do!” 

“Yeah, you also have praying to do.” Mark snaps, grabbing the book out of your hands. “Not like you even understand this.”

Which, ouch, that kind of hurts. Especially when Mark knows that you’re frustrated that you can’t get the subject down even though you try. You glare at him and reach for the book. “Mark, give it back. And I actually do understand this, Jaemin’s been helping-” “Helping what? Taint you? Turn you into one of their blood whores?” Mark grabs the book back and throws it across the room. “Y/n, come on. I’m not letting this happen to you too.” He pulls you after him despite your grumbling, though he at least has the decency to let you put shoes on. Just because you go freely doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, complaining as Mark drags you through the city. “Jesus Christ Mark, has it ever occurred to you that Donghyuck had free will? That he willingly chose to be with her because he loved her?” You’re fed up with Mark, fed up with everyone. “God Mark, they’re not that bad!” Mark stares at you for a moment. “What, they’re brainwashing you too? How is it that both you and your brother are so dumb? I know you weren’t raised like this.”

“Well at least I wasn’t raised to be such an ignorant asshole.” You snap. “I have the ability to make my own decisions, something you apparently lack.” “Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark stops walking suddenly, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer. You open your mouth to yell at him when a flash of movement catches your eyes. Squinting, you make out a group of guys, and they’re close enough that you can hear them laughing when one of them wipes… is that blood on his mouth? “Mark, we have to go.” You whisper. The vampires don’t see you and you’re hoping that you can get the two of you out of there safely. “Come on-” “No, tell me what you mean!” Mark yells, stubbornly standing in place. You groan and try to drag him away but he doesn’t budge. “Come on y/n, tell me what you fucking mean.” You shoot a worried glance over your shoulder, surprised when you don’t see the vampires. There’s a second of relief, lasting only until you turn around to find them standing right behind Mark. You squeak in surprise. Mark freezes too, one of the men having grabbed him by the shoulders. His face presses way too close to Mark’s neck and you jump when you feel hands on your own shoulders.

“Aww, lover’s spat?” The guy holding Mark laughs. “That’s okay, we’ve all been there, right guys?” The rest of his friends cackle in the creepiest way that you can imagine. “Come on, we can resolve this.” You and Mark look back and forth between each other worriedly. There’s no way out of this, you realize. No way to even try. 

“Don’t you wanna know how we can resolve this?” This time the guy holding you speaks and it’s so close to your ear that you flinch, nearly jumping out of your skin. He laughs and his fangs graze your skin, but it doesn’t send pleasure through you like when Jaemin does it. It sends chills down your spine, makes you want to cry. “Answer me.” “N-no.” You stutter out, eyes squeezed shut in fear. “Please, just let us go.” The guy sighs and lets go of you. “Alright.” You and Mark share a look before bolting, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Freedom only lasts for a second before you’re being grabbed again, yanked backwards. 

“Stupid girl. I don’t appreciate being told no.” You whimper and you can hear Mark screaming your name, screaming for help, screaming for anything.

It’s the last thing you hear.

“Jaemin, you’re an idiot. Literally the dumbest person I know.” There’s a familiar voice swimming through your head and you try to move towards it, finding your entire body feels drained.

“Yes, I’ve been told.” Is that Jaemin’s voice? It sounds a lot clearer, drags you out of the darkness. “But look, it ended up being good, right? She’s alive.” You finally manage to pry your eyes open and immediately regret it, slamming them shut and curling into yourself. A groan leaves you and the two stop talking. “Y/N? Baby, it’s me.” There’s a hand on your cheek, brushing against the skin gently, and you press into his touch. “How are you feeling?” “Bad.” You croak out through a dry throat, cringing at how dry it feels. Jaemin laughs softly and something presses to your lips. “Here, drink this.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you get the first taste, and then suddenly you find the strength in your body to take gulp after gulp of the drink. It brings a little bit of warmth to your body, makes you feel less achy. You even manage to pry your eyelids open.

Jeno and Jaemin greet you, both men looking relieved. Jaemin beams at you, dipping down for a kiss. “Hey baby.” “What happened?” You frown, trying to remember how you got to Jaemin’s couch. “Did I- I was walking to the church and we were attacked.” Oh shit, you weren’t alone. You search frantically around the room. “Did Mark- is he okay?” The thought of your best friend- no matter how strained your relationship was at the end- dying is too much for you to handle. 

Jaemin smiles. “He’s the one that brought you to me.”

“He’s okay?” Jeno nods in confirmation.

“They only wanted to kill for fun, guess you were enough.” Jeno says. “Speaking of killing, Jaemin has a lot of explaining to do. And since I don’t trust him to do a good job, I’m going to stay here!” You look between the two. “Kill? Am I- I’m dead?” Jaemin makes a face. “Fucking- I’m a vampire?” Your words come out shrill and the two boys cringe.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “My bad. But, um, I’ll take care of you! Don’t worry.” Then, to Jeno: “Come on man, can’t we have a second of peace? I literally never thought I was going to see her again.” Jeno sighs, glaring at his friend before walking away. “Dramatic.” 

You’re in Jaemin’s arms in the next second, held close to his chest. “Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and he keeps his face pressed into your neck. “This is all my fault, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.” “We’ll figure it out later.” You tug at his hair to get him to look you in the eyes. “I almost died, Jaemin. Give me a headache later. Right now…” You trail off, letting your lips stretch wide. “Kiss me.” It draws a snort from Jaemin. “You were dead like an hour ago and now you want to fuck?” “No!” You whine and smack his chest. “I just want a kiss, get your mind out of the gutter.” Jaemin teases you some more, making you laugh and smack him to stop before you finally say fuck it and pull him closer, smashing your lips together. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. You have a lot to worry about, but you’ve also got all the time in the world to worry about it. It makes you sick to think about, and for now, you want to just relax. Not that Jaemin seems to mind, happily letting you curl into his chest, stroking your head. You’re not alone, you have Jaemin, and you know he’ll help you through this.

+ You’re not expecting a welcome home party. You’re also not expecting to find all of your belongings scattered across the front yard, having very clearly been chucked from your bedroom window. 

“Lovely.” You scoff, staring at the mess. The front door has the biggest cross you’ve ever seen nailed to it, complete with the silver door knob that you promptly burn yourself on. You stare at the door, wondering if you should knock. It swings open before you make your mind up.

Mark stares back at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Mark.” You smile, tight lipped. “Jaemin told me you saved me.���

Mark looks like he’s about to say something but then his mouth closes and he shakes his head. “Y/n, you- you’re a vampire now. I can’t.” Mark doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” You mock, shaking your head. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would fucking look me in the eyes.” He doesn’t. “You know it’s your fault I’m like this, right?” That gets him to look up at you. There’s fire in his eyes this time. “No, it’s your fault for whoring around with vampires.” You shake your head. “Who made me go to church that night?” He looks away and doesn’t answer the question. “Good bye, Mark.”

[fumingspice]

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Part | 1 2

Thank you for all the love! Requests are open :D

Lana dropped her head in her hand and rubbed her temples and you felt your face go red. Your group of friends on the other side of the room, who you thankfully had not informed of the night before, laughed at your embarrassment.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, Lana approached the three of you with textbooks. "Take these," she said, her glare went straight through you. "And please don't be late to my class again."

You could feel the skin under your necklace burn as your hands made contact while she passed you the books. You could tell she felt something too when her face flinched slightly. There was something different about her.

She was wearing her wedding ring.

Lana noticed that you had seen it. "Stay behind after class."

The three of you took your seat at the back row, and you did your best not to look up during as much of the lesson as possible, resorting to taking notes from the book. Your face burned with the anticipation of Lana's confrontation. You had borderline lied to her about something that could risk the integrity of her career and her reputation. The guilt almost sickened you to your stomach and your friends could sense it.

"You gotta keep calm," Emmett whispered to you, knocking his knee against yours to tell you to stop bounding your leg. You peaked up for the first time in the lesson while the others were taking notes. Lana averted her glance as soon as you did so. "She's been looking up at you every time she gets a moment."

You rubbed your forehead with two fingers and peeled your necklace from under your shirt. It was white-hot. "What the fuck?" You muttered to yourself, getting Emmett's attention.

"I didn't know you had one of those," he said. "Maybe it means that its pair is close by-" Emmett stopped himself and looked from you to Lana.

The bell rang before he had a chance to finish himself. "We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."

The class filed themselves out as you remained in your chair, Heather gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she left.

You watched Lana smile at your classmates as she crossed the room back to her desk. The suspense was killing you.

Finally, Lana stood up again and sat on her desk, folding her arms, and staring right at you. "Come over here, please," she said, darting her eyes to the floor.

You followed her instructions and sat at the desk opposite.

Lana played with a pendant on her necklace as she seemed to gather the words to use.

"Do you understand the severity of what happened last night, and why we can't go through with tonight's plan?" she asked after a moment of silence, her whiskey brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Because you're married?" You replied, slightly meaner than you intended to sound. Lana's eyes look inflicted by your comment.

She took off her ring and laid it on the desk. "You lied to me. You told me you weren't younger than twenty-one and Jesus Christ, why did I want to believe you so bad?" She put her head in her hand and for a moment you were unaware if she was talking to you or herself.

"No, I didn't," you replied. Technically. "I told you that a lot of people think I'm younger than twenty-one. I'm eighteen."

Lana took a minute to regain her composure. "Y/N, I think you're an amazing, beautiful, incredibly funny and smart young lady and I would love to have gone on with whatever we had started. Though, at the end I am still your teacher and you're still my student. That's like fifty shades of illegal," she said. Her eyes were trained on the ground now as she straightened her back.

Your necklace was beginning to burn your fingers now and you could see Lana was rubbing her chest. You stepped closer to her as she backed against her table and put your hand under hers.

But I thought she didn't wear her necklace?

Her necklace was hot too. You pulled her necklace from under her blouse and inspected it. In that moment you finally felt like you were able to one-up even Aria Montgomery.

"Does that mean-?"

You rubbed your temples. "Good golly, this is going to cause the worst migraine ever."

Lana looked visibly stressed too. "Surely there's a mistake, right?"

You stared at her hard. "Soul necklaces have never made a mistake in the history of their goddamn existence, Lana!"

The teacher groaned. "The only reason I put this on was because last night you reminded me that I actually had one and I wanted to throw it in my husband's face that there's someone else better than him-" she stopped herself in her rant to inhale hard "-even though that's not too fucking hard. I did not. In a million years. Put this on to match with one of my students."

"How about the chick who tried to pick you up in a bar, then. Would you have wanted to match with her?"

Lana looked like she was about to strangle you, and you weren't necessarily opposed to that. "Y/N, please for the love of God don't make this harder for me. I've been thinking about you since I got home last night." You could see tears in her eyes and a pang of guilt hit you hard.

You walked to the door, peered down the hallway to make sure it was empty and closed the door.

"Lana-"

"Ms. Winters."

"Way to remove the power dynamic," you muttered sarcastically. Lana tried to hide a blushing smile. "I have six months left. I can pretend you're just my teacher and you can pretend I'm just your favourite student of all time."

Lana bit her lip. "You're still flirting with me? You looked like a deer in headlights when you walked in."

You felt your face glow red in embarrassment. "I thought I was gonna pass out."

That much was true. When it had finally hit you that Lana was your new French teacher you had felt a weight on your heart like never before.

"So, sixth months of pretending. I think I can cope with that," Lana said. She was less stressed now. Well, from whatever relief the conversation had provided.

You nodded and peeked through the window by the door. The hallway was clear. You turned back to face Lana and took a step towards her. The teacher could sense her apprehension as you laid a hand on her cheek and pulled her close to you.

You looked up into her eyes and waited for her cue. She nodded, her eyes locked with yours before they shut and lent in. Her lips pressed against yours and her hands curled in your hair as you worked to deepen the kiss. Lana backed right onto the desk until she was sitting right on it, one of your hands reached down to grab her thigh and pull it to your waist.

Her hands dropped to the back of your neck. You were bewildered. How could something be so wrong yet feel so right? This went against almost every moral code you had with your teachers. You were a model student and now here you between a teacher's legs.

Lana pulled away abruptly. "I don't want to go further than kissing while you're still in school," she whispered.

You smirked. "Please. You didn't even plan on kissing back, did you?"

Lana shook her head as she shuffled off the desk and grabbed her bag from the chair.

You had never seen anyone jump as high as Lana Winters did when Emmett banged the door open.

"Mother of Jesus in a tank. Can't either of you be gentle with the doors in this school?!" She exclaimed. "You'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Sorry, Ms. Winters," Emmett muttered. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I won't stay for long. I also just wanted to say that you don't need to worry about Heather and I saying anything, because we won't. But Heather is also getting impatient and wants to know if you need a lift home."

You shook your head. "I'll be a few minutes. I can walk home but tell her I said thank you."

Emmett gave a thumbs up and left.

"It's raining cats and dogs outside," Lana said. "You'll catch your death of cold."

"I'm a fast runner, Ms. Winters."

Lana shook her head. "What kind of person would I be if I let my favourite student walk home in the rain, hm?" She held up her keys and headed to the door.

You walked behind her while she informed a superior that she was driving you home. Child protection policy and whatnot. Ironic.

Lana sat in the driver's seat and blasted the heat.

"What's your address?" She asked, booting up the sat nav. You recalled her saying that she had only recently moved to this city.

"Sixteen Eli Boulevard," you replied, checking a message from your mom. She was making Carbonara for dinner.

Lana stopped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Are you being serious right now? Why would I kid about where I live?"

Lana pursed her lips and laughed. "I just moved into that neighbourhood yesterday."

Well, that was convenient.

"So, I can be expecting a lot more car rides with you, Ms. Winters?"

Lana cocked her head at you and frowned as she began driving. "Can we establish some ground rules? Like no flirting on school grounds? We can't afford for that to happen again."

You nodded in slightly disappointed agreement.

"In school, at least."

You paused, turning to take in the view of the mountain that sat beside your small town. You never seized to be amazed at that view.

“Can we reschedule our date? I know a place outside of town,” you say. Lana squeezed her eyebrows hard in thought.

“How far out of town are we talking?”

“An hour or so on the train. Give or take.”

Lana stopped the car outside your drive. “I can do Saturday.”

Perfect.

You heaved yourself out of her car and gave her hand a squeeze. It was the closest thing to a kiss you could manage.

What on Earth am I doing to myself.

taglist: @its-soph-xx @delias-bitch-craft  @sarahpaulsonsoftie @jumpoffabridge-t @coffee-is-below-my-standards @definitelynot-a-writer​ @bottom4delia

[mizunetzu]

Plz make a prat 2 to its your fault!!! It was SO GOOD!!

LMAO I WASNT GONNA BUT I BROKE 100 FOLLOWERS PURELY BC THAT FIC SO-

——————

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 2)

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

part one can be found here! , and if the link is broken, check my pinned masterlist!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) carried over to Karasuno, in his second year of high school.

He was doing great. He joined the writing club, he did extra well in his English classes, and even made acquaintances who didn’t force them to learn a sport for the rest of their life’s.

He doesn’t think he’d call them “friends” though. They weren’t as close as he was to his ‘teammates’. Or Kenma. Or Kuroo.

But then again, his relationship with Kuroo wasn’t real. And (y/n) will forever hate him for that. He’ll hate his guts for as long as he lives, for wasting his time and giving up his passion just because he couldn’t suck it up to tell him he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“(L/n)-San, you’re late.”

A cold sweat broke out on (y/n). He looked up at his history teacher, with a nervous smile. He didn’t care for that class as much as the others, so it’s hard to keep up when you aren’t interested.

“(L/n), this is your third offense. I’m going to have to send you to detention. Take your seat and see me after class.”

“Yes sensei...”

He tiptoed to his seat and slid into his chair, with his head down. It was his first detention. He wasn’t going to lie when he said he was nervous.

————-

The detention wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. When he walked in, the teacher supervising was asleep on his desk, and there were only about 4-5 second years in there.

None really stood out, minus the one sitting in the corner, with his feet up, spinning a volleyball in between his hands. He had hair that reminded him of that bitch Kuroo, except it was styled like that on purpose, and there was a streak of blond straight in the middle.

The stranger seemed to catch his disgusted face, and said “Oi-you got a problem, pretty boy?”

(Y/n) wiped the look off his face and leaned a against the wall, not wanting to sit down. He stood there for about 5 minutes, before he heard the ever so familiar sound of a volleyball being smacked. Absentmindedly, he turned towards the sound, and brought his hands up to receive the ball. It’s the first thing they drill into your mind in that prison called Nekoma, so could you really blame him?

The thing he didn’t expect, was the ball to actually hit his hands. He thought the sound was in his head, or the boy just smacked the ball in his hands, but he didn’t think that he threw the damn ball at him. The ball effortlessly bounced off his arms and flew back into the hands of the boy, who had a shocked, excited, expression.

“You play volleyball?!” The boy jumped out of his seat and ran up to him. He was short, but then again, (y/n) wasn’t that tall to begin with.

“I...don’t...I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit! That was a perfect receive! I’ve seen guys on my team who don’t have a receive as good as that!”

Team? He thought there would be no ‘team’. This is the one school with that ‘fallen crows’ thing, right?

The boy was jumping up and down, praising his receive and making weird sound effects. He’s never really been praised on his receive before. It was heartwarming.

“-and you gotta join my team!”

“Hell no. I don’t play volleyball anymore. I’m done with it.” The words came out like an automated response. The boy tilted his head to the side.

“Why not? Your one of those new kids right? I don’t think I’ve seen you last year.”

“I don’t care much to talk about it” (y/n) chuckled and sat down. The boy sat down next to him, to his disappointment.

“I’m Nishinoya Yuu. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” (Y/n) said nothing more, mainly because he was used to going by his first name at Nekoma.

“(Y/n)? Just (y/n)? Is that your first name or your last orrrr-“

“First,” (y/n) drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t like formalities when it comes to spor-“

That response came out automatically aswell. It’s something Kenma said so much, that he started doing it aswell. They weren’t even doing sports. They’re in detention for gods sake.

“Nice to meet you man!” Nishinoya gave him a pat on the back. (Y/n) flinched a bit. Kenma wasn’t touchy at all, and Kuroo avoided as much contact with him as possible. Yet this...stranger was talking to him like he was the last person on earth. He was the center of attention right now. And he loved that feeling.

Are all countryside people this nice? Back in Tokyo, or at least with Kenma and Kuroo, they weren’t so...touchy. And the team wasn’t touchy as well. But maybe this is different. Maybe...

“You have to at least VISIT the practice! I won’t force you to join! But this is my last day of detention before I finally return and it would be cool if I got another player in! Not that I’m assuming you’ll want to play instantly but-“

“I’ll do it.”

“Really!?”

He was just going to watch. He wanted to see how different the Miyagi players were compared to Tokyo. That’s all. After that he’s going to leave. No more volleyball.

————

Nishinoya and (y/n) became good friends during the remainder of the detention. He told (y/n) he was a libero, and asked what his old position was. He lied and said he was a libero too. There was really no reason to lie, but he didn’t want to say he was a setter either.

On their way to the gym, (y/n) could practically feel how excited Nishinoya was. It was something (y/n) could never understand. They neared the entrance to the gym, when Nishinoya suddenly sprinted inside. A ball hurdled towards him, and he returned in the direction it came from, with little to no effort.

(Y/n) jogged in after him. “Noya! Warn me when you start sprinting damnit! you scared me!” A boy with bright orange hair, also pretty short, stared at Nishinoya with wide eyes.

“He’s...he’s shorter than me!”

“Huh? Hey, what did you just say?!” The libero got ready to pounce on the other short boy when he choked out a panicked “s-sorry!”

They started going back and forth on stuff

(y/n) wasn’t paying attention to, when 3 other people walked into the gym.

“Oi! Noya-San!”

“Ryu!”

The unknown people started greeting Nishinoya, while (y/n) stood awkwardly to the side.

“Oh! Let me introduce you.” Noya gestured towards (y/n), who stiffened once all eyes landed on him. My name is (y/n), uh-just (y/n). I don’t like formalities when it comes to sports.”

“Yeah! He said he wanted to watch-“

“Actually I want to join.”

It was something (y/n) said on impulse, after looking at everyone’s friendly attitude. They looked at (y/n), even though he was a total stranger, like he was a part of the family. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth. Nishinoya went silent, along with everyone in the room. A smile grew on Noyas face as he shook (y/n’s) shoulders giddily.

“That’s great! What position are you going to play?” The black haired dude with tan skin said, walking up to (y/n) and patting him on the back. Again, with everyone’s kindness. It’s so weird.

“Set-“

His throat closed in as if it told him he wasn’t supposed to say that. He felt the piercing stare of a boy with black hair and blue eyes. He was most likely a setter. He also looked at the kind smile of the man with silver hair, but how his eyes betrayed his kind look. They looked sad, and droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek. He was probably a setter, too. (Y/n) closed his mouth, then opened it again.

“...Libero. I want to play libero with Noya, if that’s alright.”

(Y/n) hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision. Not of signing up as a libero, his defense was pretty strong and on par with Noyas. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret joining the volleyball team he sought to never set foot on.

But everyone’s warm, friendly smiles made him forget about his inner turmoil, even temporarily.

He’d guess he’d have to quit the writing club, then.

————

“Rolllllling thunnnnnder!”

Noya dove for the ball and tumbled away, before standing up, looking proud of himself.

Tanaka and (y/n) started laughing hysterically, while Suga awkwardly mused out a “N-nice receive..”

“Why did he yell that out?” Kageyama looked just as dumbfounded as Sugawara, while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stifled their laughter. “Pfft-what was that?”

“Kageyama! Tsukishima! Yamaguchi! I’m going to lecture you all! Crouch down! I mean-sit down!”

That just made (y/n) laugh even harder. He forgot why he hated volleyball so much, his stamina built to the point he wasn’t dying when he ran laps, and moments like these made him feel like he was on top of the world. He had a family. A new start. Things were going great. Nothing could ever-

“Everyone! I want you to gather around!” Takeda-Sensei burst through the gym doors, making everyone turn their heads. He started talking about some “golden week training camp” and how they needed to practice. (Y/n) wasn’t really paying attention, choosing to jokingly poke Tanakas waist with a “rollingu tsandaa~!!” Until-

“-and for the last day of golden week, I’ve arranged a practice match!”

Tanaka shooed away (y/n’s) hands and cheered. “Whooah! Who’s our opponent?”

“A venerated school in Tokyo, Nekoma high school.”

(Y/n’s) heart stopped. Every moment of his childhood he wasted cane flooding back just as he started to feel content with his new high school life. His eyes widened dramatically and his mouth hung open a tad. Sugawara seemed to notice, and gave him a concerned look as everyone was buzzing about the practice match.

“You okay?” No response.

“(Y/n?)” no response.

(Y/n) felt the ground swirling under his feet. It suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air in the gym and the knee pads squeezed the everliving hell out of his legs.

“(Y/n)!” All eyes were on him. He was on the ground, sitting down and starring blankly at Takeda-sensei, while everyone silently stared back at (y/n).

This situation felt familiar.

————

The training camp flew by in a flash. It was one or two day before the dreaded match with Nekoma, and they were sprinting around the street to warmup. However Hinata, being Hinata, ran too far and unknowningly, to a place he didn’t recognize.

“Did I get lost?” His thoughts were intruded when he saw a boy, with bleach blond hair, sitting on the curb playing on his phone.

‘A bright red jersey. You don’t see much of those around here.’ Hinata thought.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Hinata ran up to the boy, who was obviously startled by Hinatas sudden exclamation. He looked from his phone, to Hinata, then to the ground.

“Um...I’m lost...”

“Eh? You’re from out of town?” Hinata cocked his head to the side, as the boy with the blond hair turned back to his phone.

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence, with Hinata admiring the game the boy was playing on his phone, when he suddenly jumped up, squealing.

“Are you a volleyball player?! Those are volleyball shoes!”

“Oh...yeah...”

The boy put his phone down and looked at him though his mop of hair. Hinata jumped up and down excitedly.

“I’m in a volleyball club too. I’m Hinata Shoyo!”

Another silence engulfed them, before the boy spoke up. “Kozume...”

“Kozume? That’s you name?”

The boy, ‘Kozume’, looked down at his bag. He then drew his gaze back up, mumbling out a “Kenma” before he looked back down.

“So your Kenma, Huh? Are you in high school?”

“Yeah...I’m a second year.”

Hinata stiffened and straighted his posture rigidly. “Crap! Your older than me! P-pardon me!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t really like formalities when it comes to sports.”

That statement made Hinatas shoulders relax, now sporting an odd look on his face. Kenma noticed his gaze, but said nothing. The thing he said now, was exactly what (Y/n) always said. When he introduced himself when he joined, when he introduced himself to Asahi who joined soon after, and to everyone whom he didn’t know beforehand when in the gym. It was like his catch phase.

“You...remind me of one of my teammates. Uh-! Not exactly! He’s more um...rowdy? B-But you said something he always says and-“

Kenma perked up, whipping his head to Hinata with questioning eyes. He, however, noticed his abrupt nature, and looked back down, trying to focus on his phone.

“Um...what position do you play?”

“Setter.”

“Ehhh?! Really? Your waaay different than our setter! our setter is a litt-“

“Does your setter have (H/c) hair? Or is he kind of clingy who likes video games?”

Hinata looked at him with a confused expression. Kenma looked at Hinata with prying eyes that almost seemed desperate. He was clutching his phone in his hands a little too tightly, to the point his knuckles turned white.

After taking Hinatas silence for a ‘no’ he turned his attention back to his phone, with pursed lips and a “...nevermind...”

The conversation they had was pretty tame afterwards, Hinata complaining about how scary his setter is or how it’s odd that he’s short for a middle blocker.

(Y/n) came jogging down the street Hinata took, along with Sugawara trailing behind him. Once (y/n) took sight of the familiar orange tuft of hair, he smiled. However, once he was about to call out his name, he heard a voice and a name he hasn’t heard in forever.

“Kenma!”

(Y/n) looked past Hinata to see a boy with blond hair. It wasn’t the Kenma he knew, his Kenma has black hair, but it could’ve easily been bleached. He looked a little further and locked eyes with someone he sought to destroy from his mind.

Kuroo.

(Y/n) stood there, frozen to his core, before a harsh glare graced the cheery persona he sought to uphold. Kenma stood up and waved a goodbye to his new friend, before jogging up to Kuroo. Kuroo broke into a cold sweat, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes guiltily.

Sugawara rounded the corner, before his eyes landed on Hinata and (y/n).

“Ah! Hinata!”

Hinata flinched and turned around to see Sugawara, and (y/n), who was clenching his fists with a disgusted look on his face.

“Man, we were looking all over-“

“Who were you talking you, Hinata?”

(Y/n’s) words dripped with venom. He wasn’t one to get angry, but he grew to resent Nekoma as a whole. Not just Kuroo. He hated Nekoma almost as much as he used to hate sports.

“Uh-I made a friend-he says he plays volleyball too-“

“No shit.”

(Y/n) scoffed and walked away, presumably to go back to where everyone was. Suga and Hinata stood there awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know...we should go back, though.”

The two boys trailed behind (y/n), deciding that he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

——————

Pt 3??? Anyone??? Lmaooo

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on... some funny games

[no spoilers to speak of]

Thoughts on Lair of the Clockwork God

The wisdom of the gaming cognoscenti insists that comedy is hard to do in video games. Having grown up with Monkey Island and Zork, I've never found this convincing. But one true thing is this: it's hard to write about comedic games. The ineffability of humor is hard enough to describe in less-interactive media; I can't even explain to my partner why Gretchen saying "I met January Jones once!" on You're the Worst busted me up, and they were sitting right next to me when she said it. Throw in the "you had to be there" nature of the player's active participation and I lose myself in a cornfield. The thing I found hilarious might come a beat to early for you, or not at all, or not be funny in text like it is in gameplay.

Why did I like Lair of the Clockwork God? It made me laugh.

The premise and particulars are a lot of "that could go either way." Ben and Dan - stars of Ben There, Dan That and Time Gentleman, Please! - have returned. Ben is still an adventure game star, but Dan has adopted platforming mechanics in an attempt to get with the times. So playing the game involves switching back and forth between a character who can leap across canyons but can't pick up items or talk to people, and one who can combine inventory but can't climb over a 3-pixel rock.

Does that sound potentially funny? Potentially grating? Yes to both!

The plot centers around our heroes trying to save the world from several simultaneous apocalypses and having to teach human emotions to a supercomputer in order to do so. (Don't ask.) These means, rather like Ben There, Dan That, traipsing through a number of fantasy worlds (read: computer simulations) until the correct emotion is provoked. This requires cross-genre cooperation: finding ways to get Ben to areas only Dan can access, getting Dan new power ups by combining objects in Ben's inventory (an act Dan insists on calling "crafting").

The best bits are at these intersections, when Dan's platforming is the puzzliest and Ben's puzzles take advantage of Dan's skills. Periodically the game gives you a Dan-centric platforming gauntlet the controls are NOT precise nor pleasant enough for, or a Ben-only moon logic puzzle that leaves you googling the walkthrough.

But I liked it! A lot. The genre-hopping seems to have invigorated the developers, Ben Ward and Dan Marshall. I discussed my favorite joke in Ben There, Dan That (in what is probably the least popular video I've ever made that wasn't asking for money), but was also dismayed that the game was never that clever again. But this one is, several times over! Progression here involves cheating your way to a better respawn zone, goofing around in game menus, exploiting "glitches," exiting out and loading up entirely other games. There is a lot of poking and prodding at what a game of this nature can or should be.

But, honestly? The only real selling point is... it was funny. The humor is as anarchic and metatextual as in previous titles, but it feels good-natured in a way BT,DT didn't. And there are, here and there, little bits of meat on its bones - the characters wondering if, as a couple thirtysomething white guys, the world hasn't left them behind, no longer comfortable with the juvenile humor of their youth but not really understanding the youth of today, but having not yet fully escaped the mentalities they used to hold. (There's an unspoken humor to Dan's idea of "modern" gameplay being 2D platforming mechanics, especially at a time when adventure games are significantly more popular than on his last outing; this is a good joke whether or not it's intentional.)

Also: this game contains the most poignant urinating-on-a-grave puzzle in gaming history, and you may quote me on that.

Having finished it months ago, I can't even remember what all the gags were that tickled me at the time. Comedy fades from memory faster than drama or frustration. Mostly I just remember having a good time.

Thoughts on The Darkside Detective

Here's a hook: sometime after the mayhem ends in Ghostbusters, The Exorcist, Evil Dead 2, or some other paranormal blockbuster that you watched over and over in the 90's until the VHS wore out, some overworked detective has to come into your town and piece together what the hell happened.

This is his story.

It's a good gag, and the devs wring every drop from it. Existing in a world where these things are commonplace and you have to fit them into some notion of "police procedure" is just funny. Like, it's one thing to have a running gag where you keep observing the moon in outdoor scenes, commenting, with increasing hostility, that its behavior is suspicious (it has been present at multiple crime scenes); it's a slightly different thing when, given the things you've encountered, the moon being the Big Bad is actually somewhat possible.

The game is divided into six main cases and three bonus DLC missions (which come included in the base game now, and the third of which is the proper ending/setup for the sequel). You are the cop tasked to deal with The Other Side - and, when The Other Side bleeds into our own world, its cops have to deal with you. You have a sidekick with a mental maturity of about 6, which I guess makes you the straight man. (You have to grade on a curve to find a straight man in this game.) And you solve tasks like rounding up escaped gremlins or finding an AWOL lake monster all juxtaposed with mundane problems like inter-office squabbles and having not bought your Christmas presents early enough. It's (pleasantly) lo-res and sparsely isolated, so the dialogue and premise do most of the work, but they are ably up to the task.

The gameplay... not so much. I'm an adventure game lifer, so I can put up with a lot of nonsense. It's mostly straightforward inventory puzzles and occasional minigames. Most of the puzzles are fine enough. As the cases progress, things get more involved, and the DLCs especially involve some awful moon logic. And the minigames are not above using that same jumping peg puzzle you've solved in a dozen other games already. So gameplay ranges from serviceable to irritating, but it mostly exists to string together funny lines and silly images. (Christmas mall elves being secretly in service to Krampus - that's the kind of thing we're talking about here.) You won't feel much guilt for opening up a walkthrough; the puzzles aren't why you're here.

The sequel has just been released, and both games are cheap, so check them out if you feel like smiling.

Thoughts on The Procession to Calvary

It's rare for a game to be hilarious to look at.

The Procession to Calvary takes its name from the Bruegel painting. It also takes all it's graphics from Renaissance oil paintings, and the designer delights in making famously rendered heroes and religious icons steal, stab, fart, and swear.

A strong Terry-Gilliam-with-After-Effects vibe is what we're describing.

You play as a lady knight from a war that's just ended, which sucks for you because, in this age of peace, you're no longer authorized to kill. And killing's, like, you're whole thing. But the one person your new, pacifist king wouldn't stop you from killing is the warlord you just deposed, who fled to the South. So you embark on a nonsensical journey to seek out the one human on Earth you are authorized to kill, because killing is just The. Best. Ever.

Of the three games we're discussing, this is the most overtly cheeky, and, at times, the most scatological. I could've done with a bit less scatology, if I'm being honest, but the cheekiness is very winning. As with Lair of the Clockwork God, a lot of jokes could go either way - a field of people being tortured and a woman on a blanket selling commemorative torture merch could be painfully try-hard. But something about the victims being seemingly everyone ever crucified or broken on the wheel in a famous painting, and having them writhe on their crosses in a way that is both gruesome and goofy, and having a cacophonous soundtrack of their screams and moans that you will now imagine every time you look at one of those elegantly elegiac paintings from now on... it works. That the music score is being played by an extremely jaunty piper who dances behind you just out of sword's reach as you traverse the field pushes it over the top.

Oh, and the puzzles, while never hair-pullingly obtuse, will leave you stumped at times. Push past that to get the proper ending, but, if you're sick of trying, you can, at any point, just start stabbing your way through problems. Which, again: it takes a very deft touch to make "protagonist resorts to violence" actually funny rather than lazy and obvious. And maybe, in another game, the perfect timing of every animation, the clever quips, the careful contrast of cathedrals and high-society music halls with gleeful sword-swinging wouldn't be enough. But something about it being frickin' Renaissance paintings carries it the last mile.

This is probably the basest game of the three, but it's also the one that made me giggle the most. Having a BFA that required several art history classes may have something to do with it. But check this thing out.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #189

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the royal hikkikoneet of Himeji Castle, Osakabehime! This giant nerd is a Lore Bard, because it’s hard to stay in your room all day and not read things, as well as a Trickery Domain Cleric to fill your castle to the brim with ghostly defenses (and run away to your kotatsu when things get scary).

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Prepare for trouble, and make it double!

Race and Background

Going by Fate’s official lore, Osakabehime is a kitsune like Tamamo. But, since Tamamo’s pretty insistent on No Doubles, O-heems here had to change her race, and so do we. So we’re making her a Hexblood to get some castle magic right off the bat. This makes Batty Fey and Humanoid, and she gets +1 Wisdom and +2 Charisma. She keeps the standard Medium size, but she still gets Darkvision, Fey Resilience against the charmed condition, Hex Magic which lets her cast Disguise Self and Hex using her Charisma. You can cast one of these spells for free each day, or by using spell slots.

She can also make Magic Tokens out of her hair (and other things, but those are gross), letting her send a message to the creature holding it. Also, while she’s within 10 miles of the token, she can enter a trance to see and hear through the token for 1 minute, after which the token is destroyed. She can make a token once per long rest, and they only last until her next long rest anyway, so don’t get excited about stockpiling them like I just did before reading that part.

Castle Guardian Spirit isn’t an official D&D background, but fortunately Mangaka is! Or at least, Guild Artisan has the same sort of ring to it. This gives Batty proficiency in Insight and Persuasion.

Ability Scores

Batty’s Wisdom should be her highest stat. Making good art requires good eyes to figure out how to improve your technique. Second best is her Charisma. She’s got that awkward underdog style going for her, despite how much she overthinks things. Her Dexterity is also pretty high. She might not move around much, but she’s an expert at hiding from responsibilities! Batty’s Intelligence is above average, it’s hard to spend that much time on the internet and not learn something. Her Constitution isn’t great, I blame staying inside all day, but we’re dumping Strength for pretty much the same reason. There’s nothing saying a NEET can’t be a gym rat, but that’s def not Batty.

Class Levels

Bard 1: Starting off as a bard gives Batty all sorts of proficiencies, like Dexterity and Charisma saves, Sleight of Hand and Performance to master her brushstrokes, History for living for so long, and Stealth to slip away from crowds. If she does end up next to people though, she can use her Bardic Inspiration to give them a d6 for one of their checks, saves, or attack rolls Charisma Bonus times per long rest. Batty can also use her Charisma to cast Spells! Minor Illusion and Silent Image will create the first soldiers in her origami army (they can’t touch people, but they can be distracting!). She also gets Feather Fall for some bat parachuting, Blade Ward to hide from physical attacks in her kotatsu dimension, Charm Person to avoid fights altogether, and Distort Value to make even a neck guard look like a proof of courage.

Cleric 1: Bouncing over to cleric real quick will give us all sorts of goodies. Since Batty is a Trickery cleric, she gets a Blessing of the Trickster, giving another creature advantage on stealth checks for an hour. Don’t you know heavy armor is uruso noisy? Keep it quiet! She also learns another set of spells (since we’re multiclassing you’ll have to use the special table to figure out how many slots you have now.) that use her Wisdom to cast and prepare them. She gets Charm Person and Disguise Self for free, which... she already had from level one... But, she also gets cantrips! Guidance and Resistance will make you a little more knowledgeable than everyone else about everything, and Thaumaturgy will help you get your spooky castle ghost thing going. You can also prepare spells like Bane to dull the senses of intruders, and Purify Food and Drink and Sanctuary to protect yourself and guests.

Bard 2: Second level bards are even better at everything since they’re Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to all skill checks. They also learn a Song of Rest, so anyone brave enough to spend a short rest in Himeji Castle will heal an extra d6 when they use hit dice. Your Magical Inspiration makes your bardic inspiration dice even better, letting your allies add the d6 to the damage or healing of a spell! Batty can also cast Speak with Animals now! Turns out she has an army of like 800 animal spirits helping out, which certainly explains all the origami.

Bard 3: As a Lore bard, Batty gets even more proficiencies, making her really good with Deception, Arcana, and Religion. I mean, she is kind of a god already. She can also turn her bardic inspiration into Cutting Words, reducing a creature’s check, attack roll, or damage by that amount instead of adding to it. She means well, but her cringey moments can get pretty uramessy. She also get Expertise in Performance and Stealth, doubling her jozu modifier. She can also cast Animal Messenger to make her first origami animal that can actually help you, delivering a message to a creature you specify in a location you’ve been before.

Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma for more inspiration and confidence, meaning more helpful hints and more cringey cutting words per long rest. This also makes your spells better! Speaking of, you get Prestidigitation to make real origami at will, and Phantasmal Force to make an origami horse that can really trample people. Well, kind of. It’s still an illusion, but the damage is real.

Bard 5: Fifth level bards get stronger Bardic Inspiration, their dice turning into d8s. They also become a Font of Inspiration, thanks to their inspiration dice refilling on short rests instead of long ones. You can also use third level spells now, like using a Glyph of Warding to hide Phantasmal Forces all around your castle. You can use these glyphs to create Explosive Runes for straight damage, or Spell Glyphs to store spells of the level you cast the glyph at or lower, which will target whatever activated the glyph in the first place. It takes an hour and 200 gold to cast, but it also lets you ignore concentration, so... actually this would be a great way to summon creatures. Just stick a glyph in a book, throw it at a creature’s head, boom, summons without concentration. You’re welcome.

Bard 6: Sixth level bards can waste their turn using Countercharm to give allies advantage on saves against being frightened or charmed. You already get half of that for free, so why bother. More importantly, you get Additional Magical Secrets, giving you two spells from any class. For your normal spell, grab Nondetection to prevent yourself from getting found through magic, then use magical secrets to pick up Leomund’s Tiny Hut to hide in a proper kotatsu of protection, and Conjure Animals for some slightly fleshier origami animals. We’ll get the real deal later, but this works just as well, yo-i.

Bard 7: Seventh level bards get fourth level spells, like Hallucinatory Terrain. Changing up the whole castle grounds is a good way to get people lost, and if they’re lost they’re less likely to find you.

Bard 8: Max out your Charisma with this ASI for better spells and more cringe. You can also use Greater Invisibility to keep yourself hidden, even while making more origami.

Bard 9: Your last level of bard makes your Song of Rest a d8 too, but more importantly, you also get fifth level spells, meaning you can finally cast Animate Objects to make real origami animals of variable sizes. You can create up to 10 animals this way, with medium pieces of paper counting as two, large pieces as four, and huge objects as eight. You can also upcast this spell for more objects at once. Rise, my mighty karmy!

Cleric 2: Now that we have your origarmy ready to go, we can finally dip back into cleric! Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest, either Turning Undead with a wisdom save, or Invoking Duplicity to create an illusory copy of yourself for a minute. The illusion has to stay within 120 feet of you, but you can cast spells as though you were standing in its space. Perfect for when you have to fight but you want to stay in your tiny hut at the same time.

Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, like Mirror Image and Pass without Trace. Finally, you can make yourself sneaky! You also get access to a bunch of other spells that will make yourself more protected- Aid increases your and up to two other creature’s max HP for 8 hours, Protection from Poison protects you... from poison, and Zone of Truth makes sure nobody can hide their plans from you.

Cleric 4: With your bard stuff taken care of, you can use this ASI to bump up your Wisdom for stronger cleric spells. You also learn Mending. Your army is made of paper, they’re going to get torn eventually.

Cleric 5: Fifth level clerics can Destroy Undead of CR 1/2 or lower when they’re turned, and they also get third level spells, like Blink and Dispel Magic. Bringing your own magic into someone’s house is shitsurei manners, don’t you think? You can also Bestow Curses on particularly rude guests, Meld into Stone to hide away without a trace, and create Spirit Guardians to protect yourself from melee attacks.

Cleric 6: As a sixth level cleric, you can Channel Divinity twice per rest, and you can use it to put on a Cloak of Shadows, becoming invisible until the end of next turn, or until you attack or cast a spell.

Cleric 7: Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like Dimension Door to pop straight into your kotatsu from 500 feet away. You can also cast Polymorph to reclaim your foxy glory! Or turn into a T Rex, if you want to powergame. Your choice. You also get access to Guardians of Faith, which are like Spirit Guardians, but they don’t stick near you- perfect for when you want to avoid being in a fight entirely. You can also use an Aura of Life and/or Aura of Purity to make your hikkolife a bit easier. The former gives nearby allies resistance to necrotic damage, immunity to max HP reduction, and autoheals creatures when they start their turn with 0 hit points. Hey, another spell that would be really good to keep around in a glyph of warding! The latter prevents disease, gives creatures in it resistance against poison damage, and has advantage on saves against being blinded, charmed, deafened, frightened, paralyzed, poisoned, and stunned.

Cleric 8: Use your last ASI to max out your Wisdom for the best cleric spells possible. Your Destroy Undead grows to affect creatures of CR 1 or lower, and you also get a Divine Strike, causing all your weapon attacks to deal an extra 1d8 poison damage. I mean... no reason to turn down a free gift, right?

Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get fifth level spells, like Dominate Person and Modify Memory to sculpt the minds of those foolish enough to enter your castle without permission. You can also use Insect Plague to create a massive swarm of tiny origami bats, dealing piercing damage to creatures stuck in them. Alternatively, use Hallow to make your castle a more liminal space, adding a bunch of effects against celestials, elementals, fey (probably should just not include that one.), fiends, and undead, preventing them from entering the area and messing with their magic and mental effects. There’s also a ton of other effects you can add, just take a look at the spell, we’re not writing them all out here.

Cleric 10: Tenth level clerics get Divine Intervention, letting you pray to your god for a roya-l get out of jail free card once a day, with a week’s break after it actually works. You have a roughly 1 in 10 chance of it working each time you use it, based on your cleric level. If it works, you can get whatever your DM thinks is appropriate- maybe a couple robots show up to help out your plan to be lazy forever? Nah, that’d be silly. You can also cast Sacred Flame this level. I was running out of good cantrips to give you, and kitsune are known for will of wisps and the like, so it’s sort of on theme.

Cleric 11: Your capstone level makes Destroy Undead affect creatures of CR 2 or lower, and you get sixth level spells! Forbiddance locks magical travel out of an area for up to a day- if you cast the spell every day for a month, it’ll last until dispelled. You can also force extraplanar creatures to take a bunch of damage every turn they’re in the area without a save, so Tamamo will finally leave you alone. You can use Word of Recall to teleport back to your kotatsu from anywhere, no restrictions. (Technically you have to pick a spot that is involved with your god, but aside from that.) Or, you can use a Heroes’ Feast to make the rest of your party stronger so you won’t feel as bad when you leave the fighting to them. This cures creatures of all disease and poison, makes them immune to poison and being frightened, gives them advantage on wisdom saves, and increases their max HP, all for 24 hours.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Glyph of Warding lets you set up tons of traps and store spells away for later, all without using concentration. That is huge for a build whose main source of damage comes from summon spells. Not only does it let you cast more of them, it also means the ones you have up won’t disappear because you get hit.

Speaking of, it’s really easy for you to avoid combat entirely. Go invisible, hide in a tiny hut and let your duplicity do the fighting for you, throw gobs of paper at enemies then run the other way, whatever they do doesn’t matter because you won’t be around to get hit anyway!

If an enemy does try to chase you down, they’ll have to pass through your massive army of summons first-with an upcasted Animate Objects, that means they’ll be taking 18 attacks of opportunity before they even walk through them all, and that’s before factoring nonsense from your glyphs.

Cons:

You are terrible at fighting directly. You have very few spells that deal damage directly, you have barely over 100 HP, and your AC is 11 if you’re playing to character. Once somebody does make it past your paper, you’d better have a word of recall ready.

Multiclassing really hurts spellcasters. It means you don’t get 7th level or higher spells, you have to spend all your ASIs on casting modifiers to make them both good, and you don’t get the guaranteed intervention from only being a cleric.

You have a big army, but they’re still made of paper. If you go the tiny bat route, all your summons will only have 20 hp, which means one fireball will tear through all of them in a single blow.

[fanficimagery]

The Imprint Saga pt. 1

Summary: Imagine finding out the supernatural exists. You manage to keep a level head and even give the whole Imprint business a go, but your poor wolf had no idea just how stubborn you could be when you felt he or anyone else was in the wrong.

Words: 8.2K Warnings: This is absolutely ridiculous. I wrote it, loved it, edited it, and now I hate it. But I wrote three goddamn parts (currently writing pt. 3) and I refuse to delete any of it. With that said, the Reader gets a bit confrontational with those she doesn’t like and punches someone.

Moving to Forks for the start of your Junior year was not ideal, but your mom was in need of a better paying job and it just so happened that Forks General Hospital had a few open positions that needed filling. So after she gave you a week to pack up your room, the house, and have your high school transcripts transferred, your mom hired a moving truck to follow you over two hundred miles to your new home.

Everyone was curious about you and your mom, and it seemed like everyone knew everyone else's business so it was only a matter of time before the waitress at the local diner told everyone what she learned when she had made small talk with your mom. The town was also pretty dreary, but the beach in the next town over made up for it.

The first day of school has you waking up earlier than usual so you can drop your mom off at work before taking the car for yourself. Then after checking in at the main office to get your schedule and a slip of paper that needs to be signed by every teacher before being turned in at the end of the day, the day starts off exactly as you expected.

Every stare is immediately on you as you park your car, the murmurs starting as soon as you exit. Glancing around, unimpressed, you put your arms through the straps of your backpack and secure it snugly to you. Then pulling up the hood of your jacket, you head straight for the double doors.

Only halfway there, a student jumps out in front of you and snaps a picture of you. "You're Y/N Y/L/N," he grins, fiddling with his camera. "I'm Eric Yorkie, the eyes and ears of this place."

"Cool," you deadpan.

"Anything you need?" He then asks, clearly excited to be talking to you. "Tour guide, lunch date, a shoulder to cry on?" You can only blink in response and he readily continues on. "I'm on the paper and you're news, baby. Front page."

The clearly excitable and gossip go-to are people you tend to steer clear of, but something about this boy has you cracking a grin. He takes notice, practically shaking with excitement. "So long as you never call me baby again, I'll let you run whatever story you come up with."

"Yes!"

"And you have to dial down the eagerness from about a thirteen to a three. Take a breath, dude. I'm not that interesting."

"Nice." He tries so hard to seem cool and collected, but it's clearly not working. "Can I use that as a headline."

"Whatever." Eric keeps staring, almost like an eager puppy, and you sigh. "I'm gonna go. I want to acquaint myself with my locker and make sure I know how to follow this map. See you at lunch with those questions you no doubt are going to ask for that paper of yours." He seems like he's going to ask you something else, but you make a quick escape and leave him behind.

Finding your locker is fairly easy so long as you follow the numbers, but it's the classes that are a bit tricky. You're used to having all the classes in one building, either upstairs or downstairs, but the classes here are located in various buildings that make up the entire school.

You're not sure exactly sure which exit to take to find building E since apparently one side of the map ended up being cut off, so you walk up to the first couple you see standing by their lockers. The guy is pretty burly and the girl is ridiculously pretty for being a high school teenager. "Hey," the two teens tense, but you pay it no mind, "sorry to bother you, but can you tell me which way to go for building E? My map was cut off," you explain while showing them said map.

The burly boy blinks owlishly at you and the girl glares, but the only thing that pops into your head is that they have the most exotic eyes you've ever seen. "Oh. Uh sure." The boy takes the map from you, turning around to place it against a locker and finishes the map for you. As he hands it back, he says, "Just keep walking straight and take a left. Building E is that way."

You offer him a tired smile in return. "Thank you." Then glancing at the girl, your gaze falls to her feet. "Huh. Nice boots." Her glare softens, but you don't see it before you take your leave.

Classes then proceed to go exactly as expected, you getting your slip of paper signed before each class and then giving your name, the place you moved from, and a random fact for each teacher that asks you to introduce yourself to the class.

Lunch rolls around and you find an empty table, happily setting your tray down and tearing your hamburger to bite size pieces before eating them. That's where Eric finds you, Angela Weber in tow. The girl is someone you're most likely to befriend with her soft spoken nature and laid back personality. They ask questions about where you've moved from, your family, and your hobbies. You easily answer them, tossing in a crass joke or two that has Angela snorting milk from her nose and Eric taking a picture of the aftermath as you smirk at the poor girl.

Lauren, Tyler, Mike, and Jessica make their appearance at your table then, and you immediately dislike them. They're loud, rude, and obnoxious. The girls clearly have jealousy issues of some sort and the boys are only interested in what your dating life is like. But through them you learn about the Cullen clan.

"Oh my god," Jessica suddenly muses. "Don't look now, but Alice Cullen is staring at you!"

You frown when you realize she's addressing you. "Who?"

"Alice Cullen? Don't you know who they are by now?!"

"Uh no?"

Lauren smirks, leaning forward in her seat as if she's preparing to tell you the juiciest piece of gossip. "The Cullen and Hale twins are pretty much royalty around here, even if they don't give anyone the time of day." She gestures to the table in question and it's then you realize two of the so-called royalty are the couple you approached earlier that morning. "They've all been adopted by Dr. Cullen and his wife since she can't have any kids."

"Wow. Okay one, rude. All you had had to say was that Dr. Cullen and his wife adopted them. There is no need to tell anyone about Mrs. Cullen allegedly being infertile." Lauren, Jessica, and the boys gape at you, but Angela hides her smile behind her cup. "And two, why should it matter if they're staring? Are you really that starstruck over a bunch of teenagers?"

"B-Because they're the Cullen’s!" Jessica practically whisper shouts. "They're like together-together- Rosalie and Emmett, and Alice and Jasper- and they never pay attention to anyone, and- oh god, now Edward is looking over here!"

Jessica is on the verge of swooning and you roll your eyes, sighing. "Jesus Christ," you mutter. "You really need to pull yourself together. They're kids like you and I, albeit better looking, but still kids nonetheless. It's like you're desperate for their attention."

"Well yeah," Lauren scoffs. "You should feel lucky they're even looking in your direction."

"Gross," you utter. Jessica and Lauren are now looking at you in disbelief and annoyance, and the boys have clearly busied themselves with gossip of their own when the Cullen’s were mentioned. Lightly clearing your throat, you stand up and pick up your tray. "Well it was nice talking to you, Eric and Angela. I'll see you around. Maybe."

You dump your tray and then make your way out of the cafeteria building, easily finding your next class since Emmett Cullen had fixed your map. You then proceed to have a class with Edward Cullen- he nodding in greeting when you catch his gaze, a nod which you return- and a class with Alice Cullen who is practically bouncing in her seat when the teacher sits you next to her. She's a little too perky for your likes, so you merely grin before immediately pulling out your spiral notebook and taking notes from the board.

Your last class of the day is your history class which you end up sitting next to Jasper Hale. He's very tense and quiet, and seems both interested yet terrified of your presence, so you don't pay him much mind after nodding at him when you take your seat.

All in all, your classes are decent and you've literally only spoken to one person in the entire that you can find yourself wanting to spend time with outside of school. Angela.

It doesn't take long for the teens of Forks High to realize you're not afraid to speak your mind when they annoy you, and you found yourself only ever seeking out Angela. And out of all the Cullen’s it's Alice who seemed most interested in befriending you, but you weren't really interested. You were polite when she approached you, but you never really offered to hang out with her or take her up on her offer to go shopping. And while every other student found it offensive that you've turned her down, her family found it rather amusing.

Jasper eventually slightly warmed up to you since your teacher had partnered you up with him for a project, so you found it rather easy explaining to him that you weren't really the type of girl Alice needed in her life. He chuckled at your explanation of cheery people not being your cup of tea, but that you didn't have the heart to tell Alice yourself, and promised to let her down easy for you. You sighed in relief, thanked him, and then got back to taking notes.

Fortunately for you, Bella Swan came to Forks and Alice found a new girl to set her attention on.

It's the weekend, and you and your mom are feeling up to spending a day on the beach. And since it's chilly out, your mom makes a few phone calls to La Push to make sure that you won't be getting in trouble if you were to make a fire on the beach. So after purchasing a small shovel and some easy to light wood that would keep your fire going, she drives the two of you down to La Push Beach.

You find the perfect place to have your fire, next to a rather large piece of driftwood that appears as if it'd make the perfect backrest. You dig a shallow hole while your mom makes a teepee of wood before lighting it, and then the two of you plop yourselves down and just breathe in the salty ocean air.

"So how are you liking school, darling?" Your mom asks as she pulls forward a bag of snacks and drinks. "We haven't really had time to sit and talk."

You shrug. "School is school. Met a few people I can actually call friends."

"That's wonderful!"

"But I also made more enemies, so.."

"Y/N," she groans and you laugh. Eventually she grins at you. "What'd they do?"

"They were either too chipper for me to handle or they let their insecurities get the better of them which turned them into snarky assholes."

"Anything in particular you didn't like?"

"Oh. Loads," you say, "but I would rather not get into it. It's done and over with, and I'm perfectly fine with having Angela and Jasper as my only go-to friends."

"If you say so."

"I do. How's the hospital?"

"Oh I love it," your mom suddenly gushes. "I honestly think this might be the place we finally settle down. The only complaint I have about the hospital is that the staff is ridiculously obsessed with Dr. Cullen and his good looks."

You snort. "Seriously? Everyone at school, some teachers included, are freakishly obsessed with Dr. Cullen's adopted children."

Your mom giggles. "Are they pretty too?"

"Very pretty," you sigh. "I'm on pretty decent terms with all of them. Jasper, however, is the only one I tend to seek out if I'm in need of sitting in silence with someone. He's quiet, but he's got a wicked sense of humor when he's comfortable enough to show it."

"Oohh. Do I sense a future boyfriend?"

"Oohh," you tease back, "no." Your mom frowns and you laugh. "Dr. Cullen's children are all seeing each other," you then admit. "Jasper and Rosalie Hale are Mrs. Cullen's niece and nephew, and Edward, Alice, and Emmett were adopted by Dr. Cullen. Jasper and Alice are dating, as are Rosalie and Emmett. Edward's got this weird thing going on with the other new girl Bella."

"Oh. Um that's a bit-"

"Weird? I mean yeah, but they're not actually related so it's legal. I think." You chuckle, shaking your head and tossing a pringle at your mom.

The two of you lapse into silence, you eventually retrieving your polaroid camera from the car to take a few pictures. You both decide to dip your feet into the ocean water, squealing not even a second later when it proves to be too cold. Then when you and your mom have finally had enough of the beach for the day, she starts gathering your trash while you prepare to turn out the fire.

But before you can throw the first batch of sand on it, a voice calls out to stall you. "Wait! If you're done with the fire, do you mind if my fiancée and I use it?"

You turn around to find a rather tall, muscular and tan individual. The woman at his side barely comes up to his shoulders and she smiles timidly, her hair hiding some pretty fresh facial scars. "Not at all." You dump the sand off your shovel, smiling in greeting. "We just put some wood on, so it should still burn for a bit."

The man smiles. "I'm Sam. This is Emily." The woman waves, a wave which you return.

"Y/N. And the crazy lady who has yet to speak up is my mom [enter mom's name here]."

"Hey!" You smirk, glancing over your shoulder as your mom joins you. "I'm not that crazy." She winks as she joins you, introducing herself to Sam and Emily.

"So you guys new to town?" Sam wonders.

"To Forks," she says.

"Yeah. We moved here about two months ago now. But I love the beach, so we decided to make a day of it." Sam and Emily nod in understanding. "But we should be going now. You guys have a fire to enjoy. It was nice meeting you."

"You as well," Emily softly says. "I hope we run into each other again."

"You will," your mom says. "I swear Y/N was a mermaid in another life. She loves the ocean."

"Either that or a wild animal. I'm kind of drawn to the forests around here. It's.. peaceful."

"They can be," Sam says, "but they can also be very dangerous. If you go hiking, go with a friend. A group is better."

"Duly noted, my dude."

"And on that note," your mom says, "we really should be going. Hope you two have a nice night."

"You as well," Sam replies as you and your mom take your leave.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

Your friendship with Angela had ended up leading you to being introduced to Bella, and you surprisingly found yourself with someone else you could call a friend. She doesn't tend to gossip or talk about anyone's insecurities, and she somehow manages to pick up on your moods pretty well. So when your mom can't make it to your beach trips, you tend to take Bella and/or Angela.

And on the days you go alone to the beach or your with your mom, Sam and/or Emily manage to find you.

The start of your Senior year is exciting and you're already looking forward to graduation. But not even two months into your Senior year, the Cullen’s decide to move away. You're sad to see Jasper go, but you completely understand and tell him and Alice to send postcards or knick knacks from wherever they make stops at. Healing crystals are your favorite just because they're pretty and you like to line them on your shelves, and Alice promises to send some really pretty ones.

Bella, however, seems to take their absence really hard. No amount of talking to her helps, so you give her some space. And in distancing yourself, you find yourself visiting La Push Beach more and more, and spending time with Emily.

It's there with Emily that you first meet Paul Lahote, Sam's newest friend.

"Hey Em, Paul and I are going to grill some burgers. You need anything from the market?"

"No, honey. I'm good."

"Y/N?"

Looking up from the crackling fire, you say, "Yes, Samuel?" Sam's friend snorts and you turn glittering eyes on him. "Hi. I'm Y/N."

Sam's friend looks right at you, his posture and expression going lax by the second. Your expression falters, even as you do your best to keep up a smile. Sam notices, frowns, and then smothers laughter as he elbows his friend. "Oh. Um, I'm Paul."

"Nice." You look back at Sam, grinning. "Can you bring some hot Cheetos?"

"Sure thing." Paul seems perfectly content looking at you, so Sam has to grasp him by the shoulder. "Let's go, Lahote. If Y/N doesn't get her hot Cheetos soon, she'll get cranky."

You don't deny his statement, only grinning wider and shrugging a shoulder. Paul huffs a laugh, but joins Sam, and you refocus your attention on Emily who's smiling a little too wide. "What?"

"So Paul, huh? Was it just me or did he seem a little too interested?"

You roll your eyes, chuckling. "Do all Quileute boys look like that? Because if so, I'm in trouble."

"I'm surprised you didn't bite his head off for staring."

"It's La Push, Em, I'm telling you," you chuckle. "There's just something about this place that makes me feel at peace. I feel.. connected almost, if that makes any sense."

"It does," she grins knowingly. "Believe me, it does."

Eventually Sam and Paul return to Emily entertaining you with changing the color of the fire by tossing driftwood into it, and they grill up some burgers on a small portable grilling pit. Sam and Emily are side-by-side, laughing as you suck in air between clenched teeth because you ate too many hot cheetos yet again. Nearby, Paul looks torn between laughing or getting you something to drink.

You can't explain it, but you immediately get on with Paul. He's talkative, which normally annoys you, but you find yourself relaxed around him. He's sort of a touchy-feely person, but you don't mind and even relax when he sits next to you and slings an arm around your shoulders when you end up laughing a little too hard at one of your own jokes. You don't see it, but Sam and Emily stare at you and Paul with fond expressions.

The night soon comes to an end and you leave the beach with a few new polaroids to hang on your wall, some of which you having departed with because Emily and Paul wanted them.

Another few weeks pass which leaves you looking forward to Christmas vacation after the shit day you've had at school. Your mom's already been informed of the altercation which took place, and after spending all day in In-School-Suspension since she couldn't leave work to pick you up you're more than ready to go home and nap the rest of the day away.

However, when you get home, you're all too aware of the grumpy mood you're slipping into when you're left alone with your thoughts. You feel mentally drained, you wish you didn't, and all you want to do is get away. So after tossing and turning in the comfort of your bed, you grab your cell phone which was lying next to you and scroll down to Emily's name.

The phone rings a couple of times before she picks up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Em, you busy?"

"Not at all. How are you?"

You gulp. "I've been better. Today was a shit day and I just- I need to get out. You busy this weekend?"

"Nope. What did you have in mind?" She chuckles.

"It sounds pretty juvenile," you say, "but I was wondering if you were interested in a girl's weekend? Starting tonight preferably? Obviously Sam will be there because we'll be at your house, but I much rather deal with you and him than anyone here in Forks."

"That sounds wonderful," she says. "Will your mom be okay with that?"

"Yeah. She understands how I get sometimes and she'll be happy that I'm taking the initiative to put myself in a positive atmosphere rather than sulking over what happened for the next three days."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not necessarily."

"Tell you what. Paul is actually in Forks on a job for Sam. I can call him and have him pick you up if you want to leave the car with your mom."

"That sounds perfect, Em. Thank you. I'll call my mom right now to let her know what the plan is."

"Okay. See you soon."

After hanging up with Emily, you call your mom. You tell her that you need a breather and that Emily's offered to let you spend the weekend with her starting tonight. Your mom agrees to the plan and assures you that she has a ride home after work so she doesn't need you to wait for her to get out or for you to drop the car off.

Your mom ends up keeping you on the phone a little longer than expected to talk about what went down at school, so you've only just hung up with her and made it downstairs to the hall closet to search for a duffel bag when there's a knock on the front door.

Opening the door, you're met with a rather sheepish Paul. "Hey, Lahote. You got here fast."

"Yeah. I was already done with my errand when Em called."

"Oh good. I haven't packed my bag yet, so come on in."

Paul enters your house and you shut the door behind him. "Emily mentioned a girl's weekend starting tonight. Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Yeah about that," you chuckle nervously as you lead him upstairs, "I'm actually suspended tomorrow and have been instructed to cool off over the weekend."

"Suspended?" Paul snorts. "What the hell did you do?"

"Shoes off at the top step or you wait there," you quickly inform him. "The whole top floor is carpeted and I don't like shoes on the carpet." Paul hesitates, but he kicks off his shoes in the end. "And I might have punched Bella Swan."

Paul barks out a quick laugh as he follows you. "What did Bella Swan ever do to you?"

The whole upstairs level is a loft which your mom gladly let you have and you've fixed it to your liking so you're not hesitant to let anyone see it. You move to your dressers to grab three sets of comfortable clothes to lounge around in, underwear, and then grab a pair of jeans from your closet. "She, uh, she's been hanging out with that Jacob Black kid that keeps going on and on about Sam being in a cult," you say while setting your clothes into the duffel bag.

You walk over to your bathroom, quickly grabbing your toiletries and carrying them out to drop on your bed. "I don't know how she knows we hang out, but she had the goddamn nerve to tell me that I needed to stop hanging out with you because you and Sam were bad news. I laughed it off at first because she's a friend, but she kept pushing and I just- I snapped."

You plop down on your bed and when you look up, you find Paul standing in front of your book shelf which houses only two shelves of books while your healing crystals take up one shelf and geodes of various colors on another. "You really like rocks, don't you?"

You shrug. "They're pretty and most of those are from a friend who just moved away. I don't actually believe they have healing abilities, I just like the aesthetic of it all." Paul picks a couple up, examining them. "I was gonna learn how to make a necklace with some of the smaller ones, but then I got lazy. Maybe I'll learn soon."

As Paul moves on from the crystals to standing in front of the polaroids stuck to your wall, you smile and fix the contents of your bag. "Sam and Emily are in a lot of these," he says while grinning over his shoulder.

"Because I like them. It feels like I've known them for ages rather than a few months." Just as you've pulled the blanket from your bed to fold and take with you, Paul plops down on the edge of the bed. "No, no, don't!" Paul freezes and then his eyes widen, and you sigh. "Don't you dare get comfortable, Lahote."

"Jesus Christ," he groans. "What is your bed made out of?" He scoots up your bed, laying back fully. "If we ever get to that point in our friendship where we have sleepovers, I'm definitely sleeping in your bed."

You snort. "Keep dreaming."

"Oh I will." You're thankful his eyes are closed because his words make you blush.

You quickly get yourself under control, and once you have everything Paul takes your bag while leaving you to take your blanket and pillow. He easily slides his feet back into his sneakers and you follow him downstairs where you put on your own shoes. Then outside, Paul opens the passenger door for you before handing you your bag.

"All set?"

"Yep. All set."

Paul shuts the door, smirking, and you roll your eyes at him as he saunters in front of the truck to get to the driver side door. He chuckles as he settles himself behind the steering wheel and your thoughts the entire way to La Push are centered around how screwed you are if Paul keeps up with the flirty behavior.

Thursday night at Sam and Emily's proved to be exactly what you needed. You had attempted to help her in the kitchen, but she pushed you into the living room to find something on tv. Sam and Paul had left to run some errands, so instead you made yourself comfortable at the kitchen table and kept Emily company while she cooked.

The boys had reappeared with a friend in tow, all shirtless and barefoot. You were introduced to Jared who couldn't stop smirking at you and Paul, and you only had to threaten him once when he made a crass joke directed at you. It almost sounded like a growl had come from Paul, but Emily had distracted you soon after.

When Sam and Emily had found out why you didn't have school on Friday, they seemed rather amused but it was Emily who had lightly scolded you about violence not being the answer. You assured her you knew and that your mom had already gotten on your case about it, and then proceeded to help Emily around the house and do a bit of grocery shopping since it seemed she fed not only Sam, but also Paul and Jared. Then Friday night you and Emily watched movies as the boys ran some more errands, and the two of you barely complained when the boys crashed it.

Saturday morning, you and Emily had been making some breakfast when Paul showed up. He had greeted Emily with a kiss to her cheek and when he turned to you, you raised an eyebrow at him. He had huffed, but gave you a brief side-hug before joining Sam at the table. Then just as you were taking the coffee to the table, a heart stopping howl had ripped through the air. You shuddered, Sam and Paul perked up, and Emily attempted to distract you.

But before she could, Sam spoke up. "There's nothing to be scared of. The wolves don't go anywhere near our homes."

You had startled at the hand Emily laid on your shoulder and then realized you had frozen when you heard the howl. "Oh. I'm not scared." You had set the coffee down and then took a seat. "I actually like wolves. I just never heard one outside of a wolf sanctuary."

Paul choked on his bite of food. "W-Wolf sanctuary? You've been to one of those."

"Yeah." You had started to make yourself a plate when you explained. "When I was younger, I was really obsessed with wolves. Before my dad passed, he would take me every summer to the sanctuary. I visited so much that one wolf in particular remembered me. She would knock me down to greet me and then follow me around for as long as I was there."

Not long after you had shared that memory, Jared rushed in through the back door and Emily made him sit to have breakfast before he whisked Sam and Paul away. Then before Sam had left, he had told you and Emily to dress warm because there was a bonfire with Quileute Elders that he had wanted you to attend later that night. Paul had become apprehensive at that, but your interest had been piqued immediately.

Then later that night after you had dressed warm for the beach, Sam had driven you and Emily. Paul was waiting for you at the beach and you noticed he seemed almost nervous, so when he reached for your hand you let him take it without a word. There were a handful of people on the beach, sitting around a fire, and you smiled and shook hands with everyone Paul introduced you to.

Eventually, Harry Clearwater called for everyone's attention. He spoke of the Quileute legends- of the men long before their time and spirit warriors who chased away threats. Everyone listening was hanging off his every word, and you found yourself enthralled with the tale of the Cold Ones and the Quileutes magically shifting into wolves who hunted the Cold Ones down after one slaughtered half their village. He spun a beautiful tale that you left shivering when a woman sacrificed herself for her husband and something about the somber atmosphere afterward left you feeling off. It was almost as if everyone present believed in the legends.

Harry went on to explain that the Quileute legends were passed down from generation to generation, and that it was of the utmost importance no outsiders hear them. And that- that confused you because you were the very definition of an outsider. Yet it also didn't slip your mind that everyone you had met welcomed you with warm smiles.

Back at Sam and Emily's, Emily has instructed you, Sam, and Paul to take a seat at the table while she whisks up some hot chocolate.

But your earlier thoughts are still sticking with you. "Not that I don't appreciate being invited out tonight, but why was I?" You hesitantly ask. "I'm clearly not of Quileute blood."

Paul's gaze immediately darts to Sam. He and Paul share a look, the elder man nodding. Paul promptly stands and heads out the back door, and you frown as you watch him go. "Special circumstances made it so that we were able to bring in you in on the secret."

"Secret?" You wonder. "Your legends are really that secretive?"

"They have to be," Emily carefully explains as she makes her way back to the table, hot chocolate forgotten. "If not, the wolves would be hunted down."

"The wolves?" You quirk an eyebrow, grinning, but your amusement falters when a howl pierces the air. You gulp and your eyes immediately dart to the back door. "That was a coincidence."

Another howl echoes back. "Should someone go get Paul? That sounded awfully close."

Emily smiles sadly and you find yourself climbing to your feet to follow after her. Sam follows behind and you can't help the sharp inhale when a large gray wolf stands in their backyard. "That's no normal wolf," you mutter, shocked at the sheer size of it.

The wolf seems antsy, whining as it shifts it's weight from front paw to front paw. You can't take your eyes off it, nor it you, and you find your chest aching with how hard and fast your heart is pumping.

"The wolves protect our lands from the Cold Ones. Vampires," Sam says and you flinch, startled. "The Quileute legends were just that- legends that we were told growing up. But then a coven of Cold Ones settled in Forks and their proximity started to trigger our shapeshifting abilities."

"O-Our?"

Sam smiles sadly before walking off the porch and towards the gray wolf. Your eyes widen and you reach out for him, but Emily pulls you back. "It's okay," she tells you. "Watch."

From one moment to the next, Sam bursts out of his clothes and in his place is an even larger black wolf. You choke back a sob, your mind trying to wrap around what it is you're seeing. Emily tucks you under one of her arms, but you hold yourself tense. "I- I don't- what?"

"They're our protectors."

"But- but how?" You shakily point at Sam, then towards the gray wolf. "And who?"

Emily squeezes you a little closer. "I think you know who, sweetheart."

The gray wolf whines and takes a step closer, but the black wolf lowly growls at him. Your mind is going a mile minute and part of you is wanting to go searching for Paul. But surely if Paul had heard the howl, he'd have come back or called or something. And then it clicks. "Paul?" the wolf whines louder and lowers itself to its belly. You exhale harshly, breath stuttering as you try not to freak out. "I- I need-"

"Shh," Emily shushes you. "Let's get you back inside and-"

"Home. I need to go home," you say as you start walking backwards. The gray wolf whines louder, standing up and running towards the woods. The black wolf watches him go before looking back at you and Emily, huffing once before sprinting after the wolf himself.

"Come on, Y/N. I'll get you home."

You collect your belongings in a daze, meeting Emily by the kitchen. She smiles sadly at you, a smile which you return, and you follow after her to Sam's truck. Just as you've set your bag and blanket down, and are about to hop into the truck, a heart shattering howl rips through the air. You freeze and turn towards the woods, your heart aching at the sorrowful howl.

The drive is silent with the exception of the static-filled airwaves and all too soon Emily is parking outside your house. Your house is empty with your mom being at work, so you're in no rush to get out and Emily is in no rush to kick you out.

The seconds seem to drag on until eventually you ask the question that's been nagging you since Sam let the wolf out of the bag. "Why me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why me, Em?" You sigh and turn in your seat to stare at the woman. "What were the special circumstances that Sam deemed it appropriate for me to know all this?"

She fidgets in her seat. "This is something you should be really talking to Paul about, Y/N."

"But I'm asking you. I don't- I need time. But I also need to know why you guys let an outsider in when it's clear outsiders aren't welcome."

You stare at Emily long enough that she finally caves. "The wolves have something that they call Imprints. Long story short, imprints are the wolves' soulmates. They live, they breathe, and they'll do anything for this one person."

"Okay..?"

"I am Sam's imprint," she breathes out a little too quickly, "and you-"

"And me?" You ask when she trails off. She looks at you, almost as if pleading with her eyes to not make her say it. Your chest aches with realization. "And I'm whose? Paul's?" At her hesitant nod it's like all the air is sucked from your lungs. Your eyes tear up and a noise that's a mixture between a laugh and sob escapes you. Emily continues to stare and you shake your head, sniffling. "I think I should go."

"Y/N."

"Please don't," you mutter. "This is a lot to take in and I just need-"

"Time," Emily finishes. "I understand."

As you grab your blanket and pillow a little tighter in one arm, you grab the strap of your duffel bag with the other. Getting out, you then stand by the opened door. "I'll talk to you soon, Em. I will," you assure her. "I just need to sleep on it."

Just as you're getting ready to shut the door, Emily stops you. "I know it's a lot to take in. Believe me, I know," she huffs a laugh. "And when you come back around, remind me to tell you all about how Sam and I first started out."

"Do you- would you mind telling me now?" You meekly ask. "My mom will still be gone for a few more hours and in all honesty I would rather learn of everything from a fellow imprint."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then. I'll just call and leave a message for Sam."

Shapeshifting wolves, Imprints, and Cold Ones. It's a lot to take in, especially learning just who the Forks coven was, but a lot easier to digest coming from Emily. Hers and Sam's story was heartbreaking, but watching the love and affection she held for him eased your mind and heart some.

You had Sunday all to yourself, not doing anything at all but lounging in bed and watching the cheesiest rom-coms you could find on tv. Your mom had lured you downstairs with some meatloaf and gravy, and then you had proceeded to shower and get in bed early for school the next morning.

Monday morning had a good morning text and an apology from Paul, and you did your best to pay attention in school. People were still talking about how Bella got her black eye, but they were let down when you and Bella ran into one another and all you did was nod before moving on. She was still in a slump since the Cullen's departure and it took everything in you to keep from telling her you knew about the Cold Ones. But you figured in doing so, she'd want to know how you found out and you couldn't tell her about the wolves. So you kept quiet and tried to figure out exactly what you were going to do about Paul.

Emily had explained that the relationship between a wolf and his imprint wasn't necessarily romantic, but more often than not that's how it usually played out. She tried her best to not persuade you into anything, so you assured her she had nothing to worry about. Things between you and Paul weren't exactly normal, but you were comfortable enough with whatever you and him had going on.

Then by Monday night the loneliness started to kick in and you couldn't hold back for much longer. So Tuesday morning, after dropping your mom off at work, you decide to skip school and head down to La Push.

It's not long before you're parking in front of Emily's house. You've only walked up the steps when the screen door opens and Paul steps out. His expression is stoic, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jean shorts.

"Can we- can we go for a walk?" You ask. Paul nods and you turn to head back down the steps. He follows after you and you cross your arms over your chest as the two of you walk down the road. "So wolves," you drawl. "And imprints."

Paul huffs, smothering his amusement. "Yep. Emily told us she told you everything."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I just figured it'd be easier to hear from her rather than anyone else." You kick a stray rock, sighing.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. I just wanted to see you."

Paul stops and you continue a few steps more before turning around to face him. When you meet his gaze, you roll your eyes at his smug expression. "So you're not going to freak out?"

"That's what Sunday was for," you tell him. "And then I moped around a bit on Monday and caved this morning."

"So what are-"

"We?" You finish for him. He nods. "I'm not sure. I was just hoping we would take it day by day. If something happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. So what do you say?" You ask, holding a hand out for him.

He glances at your hand, grinning. "Sure. Why not." Taking up your hand, you and Paul then head back towards Emily's.

Christmas came and went, you spending the day with your mom since she had the day off. Then New Years came and you spent the day on the Rez since your mom had to work. You learn about the pack dynamics since more wolves had started to phase and then raised the question about why they were phasing if the Cullen coven had moved away. It was Paul who reluctantly admitted that they didn't know why.

Then Jacob Black joined the pack and Bella fell back down the slippery slope into a state of depression. But something about this time around seemed different and you just knew it was going to be bad. And sure enough you were right. Mostly.

You're finishing up an English essay when the doorbell rings. You ignore it since your mom is downstairs, grinning when you hear her greet Paul. She had met him on Christmas Eve and if you hadn't called dibs, you were pretty sure she would have jokingly tried. Your mom stalls Paul for just a little while and then you hear him climbing the stairs just as you cross your last t's and dot your last i's.

"Hey there, smarty pants."

You smile and close your binder, capping your pen and turning in your seat. "Hey, wolf boy. Done with patrol?"

"Yeah. Sam gave me the night to cool off."

"Cool off?" Paul sheepishly pads barefoot over to your bed, falling in and scooting towards the wall. You get up, clicking off your desk lamp and plugging in the fairy lights above your bed. "What did you do?" You ask, falling into bed right next to him.

"Black got around Sam's gag order and that leech lover of his found out about us."

"Leech lov- Bella? Bella knows about the Quileutes?" You ask, eyes wide and voice lowered.

"Yep." You finally settle down, head pillowed on his outstretched arm while you drape an arm across his abdomen. "Bella punched me and-"

"She punched you?!"

"Yes." He chuckles at your outrage. "And I shifted in front of her. Jacob and I got into a fight, and Bella was let in on everything. Turns out that redheaded leech is after her because her leech killed her mate and now she wants to return the favor."

"Jesus Christ," you groan. "Bella's a magnet for them."

"Yeah. So until we get a handle on the situation, please be careful. Don't do any unnecessary wandering in the woods and definitely don't go anywhere with Bella fuckin' Swan."

You snuggle deeper into him, snorting. "Aye, aye, captain. You staying the night?"

"Yeah. Your mom wants the car in the morning because she has to pick up a friend. I'm taking you to school and picking you up."

"Sounds good."

And within minutes, with Paul idly tracing patterns on your back, you're fast asleep.

Waking up the following morning, however, is a lot harder when Paul's cuddling you. You have to drag yourself out from under his arm and then grumble unflattering words at him as he snuggles down with your pillow while you get ready for school.

There's coffee waiting for you downstairs courtesy of your mom and a note of thanks from her to Paul for not defiling you under her roof while she was sleeping downstairs. Paul's cheeks turn red and you giggled the entire drive to school.

The staring reminds you of your first day of school, but this time it's because of Paul. You roll your eyes at the females who seem a little too interested and scoff at Mike and Tyler who frown as you pass by. One stare in particular, however, catches your attention.

"You can let me out here," you say. "I wanna talk to Bella real quick."

"About?"

"Girl stuff." You grin at Paul, quickly rattling off the time you get out of school. Then when you hop out, you make your way towards Bella who's standing by her red monstrosity of a truck. "So I hear you learned about the boys on the Rez."

She blinks owlishly before jerking her head in a nod. "Yeah. You knew?"

"Yep. Since before Christmas."

She frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Excuse me?" The nerve of this girl really grates on your nerves and your hand tightens its grip on the strap of your backpack. "Because it wasn't any of your business." She opens her mouth to no doubt explain her right in knowing, but she wisely shuts her mouth right away when she notices your white knuckled grip. "A word of advice, Bells, you touch Paul again and I'll blacken your other eye. Are we clear?"

Her eyes widen and when you quirk an eyebrow at her, she gulps and quickly nods. "Y-Yeah. Crystal."

"Good. Now let's get to class."

When you turn around, your curse under your breath when you realize Paul is still sitting there in his truck. He's smirking right at you and you just know he's heard what you told Bella. So after quickly flipping him off and grinning when you hear Bella snort in amusement, you and your sometimes friend head towards the school buildings.

You do your best to tune out those who would call themselves your friend, ignoring the questions about your mysterious morning companion. Bella, when around, had smirked through it all and only shrugged when the questions were then directed at her, she only telling them he was a guy from La Push.

Then when school lets out, you and Angela are walking side by side. She's going on about an upcoming article she's going to write when Paul catches your attention, he leaning on the tailgate of his truck. But when he catches sight of you, he pushes off and stalks towards you. You grin, Angela trails off when she realizes you're no longer paying her any attention, and Paul smirks just as he comes toe to toe with you.

"What are you doing, Lah-" Hands cup your jaw and feverish lips press against yours. You gasp before your eyes flutter shut, your hands grasping the front of his shirt as you lean up on the tips of your toes to press back against him. Angela giggles from beside you and you only pull back when a whistle pierces the air. You fall back so you're flat on your feet, gulping before licking your bottom lip. "So, uh, so we're doing that now, are we?"

"You started it when you threatened to blacken Swan's eye."

Angela snorts as you purse your lips to keep from laughing. "Whatever. Paul, this is Angela. Ang, this Paul. My.. Paul."

"Smooth," he chuckles, then glances at Angela and nods in greeting. "Hi. It's nice to meet one of Y/N's friends. She doesn't like to introduce me to any of them."

You punch his shoulder. "Not true. Most of my friends are your friends. Angela is the only one outside of La Push that I consider a friend and this is the first time you've literally come here. Don't be a dick."

Paul merely grins down at you, bringing you to his side and turning you so his arm drapes along the back of your shoulders. Angela smiles. "You two are adorable. No wonder none of the boys here caught your attention."

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. "Yeah, yeah. This idiot had me hooked early on. No one in Forks even stood a chance."

"And on that note," Paul muses, far too smug, "we really should get going."

After telling your friend you'd see her tomorrow, you follow Paul to his truck where he proceeds to open the door for you. Then once he's settled behind the wheel and starts to carefully drive out of the school parking lot, he holds his right hand out in between you and you barely glance at it before grasping his hand with your own left. "So we're really doing this? No going back?"

He grins. "No going back."

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.9 | Brittana

A/N - Lots to process, hey? I’ve been seeing in the reviews all the guesses of who will develop feelings first (& the few that are convinced they’ve already figured it out lol). It’s always interesting to see what y’all are thinking! Anyways, thanks for “tuning in” each Friday & thanks to those who have gifted me a coffee through ko-fi too. While I’m still in Lockdown 6.0, it’s really the little things that make a big difference. Until next time! 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

“Okay,” Santana huffs as she turns to the blonde. “I know Artie’s your friend and you’ve got history and all but fuck that guy. Seriously, what the hell was that?”

Brittany nods along sadly, “I figured you’d say that once you met him.”

“God,” Santana shakes her head still coming down from wanting to cause bodily harm to him. “He really is a tool. Like the balls on him, complimenting you in front of your girlfriend. What a dick!”

“Yeah,” Brittany scratches at the back of her neck. “I told you he’s changed a lot.”

“You mean he used to be less of a dick at some point?”

“Surprisingly, yeah,” Brittany replies. “He won Most Brilliant Brainiac last year and now he thinks he’s God’s gift.”

Santana scoffs, “A gift that needs to be returned.”

“Stop,” Brittany scolds lightly. “He’s still my friend.”

“Well you sure know how to pick them.”

Brittany frowns and Santana instantly regrets uttering the words. Sometimes her mouth runs faster than her head can filter and by then it’s too late. Usually she wouldn’t feel bad about speaking so honestly but there’s something about the way Brittany pokes out her bottom lip like that that makes Santana falter.

“Sorry,” Santana says guiltily.

Brittany looks to Santana and nods, “I know he’s not the easiest person to get along with now, but he does have his moments.”

“Does he? I mean, what is the appeal?” Santana questions genuinely. “Because the personality is not a winner. I don’t even see him with a hot piece like me for arm candy.”

Brittany chuckles, “Yeah. I’m surprised about that too. I thought he would’ve brought two dates just to show off.”

Santana scrunches her nose in disgust, “It would take more than two dates to change my mind about him. Why does your team keep him around?”

“They love him. He’s so knowledgeable about so many things. He’s perfect for academic decathlons,” Brittany shrugs. “But I’m not sure how long it’ll last. He’s a great mentor but he’s gotten so critical of everyone, even me.”

“Especially you,” Santana corrects. She starts to feel heated all over again, “I can’t believe the way he spoke to you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Like sure, I can find you a little hard to swallow sometimes and it’s annoying how you’re just naturally great at so many things but I’d never say the things he did.”

“Honestly, I’ve heard worse things,” Brittany reasons. It sounds as though she’s trying to be lighthearted but the look on her face is anything but and that breaks Santana’s heart a little. “Artie’s criticism is nothing compared to what people used to say about me growing up.”

Santana frowns, “That doesn’t make it okay though. You know that, right?”

“It’s fine. I’ve got tough skin.”

“That’s not the point,” Santana sighs. “You shouldn’t have to take that kind of crap from anyone.”

“Sometimes you have to,” Brittany replies. “Sometimes you just have to take it and do the hard work in silence. Let the success speak for itself. Getting caught up in what everyone thinks is exactly how I lost my way before, so I’m not going to do it again.”

Santana shakes her head. She gets it – she really does – but it doesn’t make it any less okay.

These little glimpses of Brittany’s childhood really make Santana feel for her. She was fortunate enough to have parents and teachers who encouraged her studies – sometimes in an overbearing ways – but at least she had the support.

For Brittany, it seems like all odds were against her and for some twerp like Artie thinking he gets to be another one of those little voices making Brittany doubt herself really grinds Santana’s gears. He’s the worst kind of manipulative.

“It’s fine, really,” Brittany adds upon Santana’s silence. “I can take it when it’s coming from a friend.”

“Friend?” Santana laughs dismissively, “We’re not even friends and I’d never put you down like that.”

Brittany looks at her curiously and it makes Santana feel suddenly self conscious. Maybe her honesty has gotten her trouble yet again?

“Really?” Brittany asks.

Santana doesn’t hesitate, “Well yeah.”

Brittany’s shoulders ease a little and Santana takes that as a sign to continue.

“I was seriously this close to slapping him upside the head,” She says. “I may be many things and people may have occasionally called me a bitch from time to time, but even I wouldn’t stoop to the level he’s on. I wouldn’t put down my friend.”

Brittany’s brows rise, almost out of disbelief.

Santana wants to ask what that look is, but she’s a little nervous about the answer so instead she averts her attention to the dancefloor. She keeps her eyes roaming the crowd, avoiding meeting Brittany’s gaze.

“He’s just a little blunt,” Brittany attempts to reason again.

Santana shakes her head, “Whatever it is, you’re better off without him.”

Brittany sighs, “I just, I still care about him. I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t know. Have you ever felt that before? Wanting to hold out hope for someone to change?”

Santana’s anger dissipates for a second. Those words resonate with her and drudge up an unwanted memory. Has she ever felt the way Brittany does? The blonde has no idea…

Upon her silence, Brittany continues.

“You probably think I’m crazy but,” Brittany lets out a tired sigh. “Maybe I am. I just wish there was a way to bring back the real him – the one that took the time to show me around when I was new here. You know, the one who cared.”

Santana softens, because she knows the feeling all too well and it sucks big time.

“Don’t we all,” She mumbles.

Brittany looks to her, brows raised. Santana finds herself meeting Brittany’s gaze again and it’s like with one look at her the truth is impossible to hold back.

“How long do we have to suffer before we realize they’re not coming back though?” Santana asks. “What if that’s who they are now? This uncaring, unloving, unfazed ghost of a person we can’t even recognize anymore. That’s all we get and we’ve just got to deal with it and…and move on.”

Brittany looks at her curiously.

Santana averts her gaze to the crowd again, “Once again we have way too much in common for my liking.”

“What do you mean?”

Santana sighs, “I mean, you should just cut your losses now before it’s too late.”

Brittany smirks but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Clearly you’ve never been in love before. It’s a bit harder than that. Not that this is love, I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s not love, that’s for sure.”

“Like you’d know,” Brittany jokes lightly.

Santana has the urge to laugh.

She’s almost forgotten that Brittany still doesn’t know that much about her past, because if she did she’d would know that Santana, of all people, knows what it’s like to be in love with someone you wish you weren’t.

“Well, I know it’s better to be told straight up about how you feel rather than to always wonder what went wrong or what could’ve been,” Santana finds herself saying. “But sometimes we don’t get that luxury. Maybe it’s just better to let it go and move on.”

“Or maybe he’ll finally snap out of it and see what he’s been missing now that I’m in this fake relationship with you.”

Santana’s surprised by Brittany’s honesty. The blonde looks surprised that it escaped her, but the two just stand there staring – trying to grasp the gravity of what they’ve both revealed.

Brittany’s using Santana to win over Artie; it’s almost laughable and yet, Santana can do nothing but stare in disbelief. She gets it though; she’s desirable, completely out of someone like Artie’s reach. Dating her would be enough to rattle anyone with eyes so it makes sense.

She knew Brittany was cunning, but it still surprises her. At least Santana’s reasoning for doing all of this has to do with her future, but Brittany? What’s Artie have to do with hers?

Santana scrunches her nose as her head starts filling in the blanks to that question. She pictures Artie in her place beside Brittany; them holding hands as they make their way to class, them making dumb googly eyes at each other at the library, them being this unstoppable power couple because of their success in academic decathlons.

It’s gross.

But who is she to pass judgement? She’s doing all of this because she couldn’t hold down a relationship to save her life, she’s in no position to judge Brittany’s.

And it’s not like this is the first time she’s been used like this before. Some of the girls she has been with only need her for a night, a way to get back at an ex or to make someone jealous. If anything, she’s become kind of an expert when it comes to being the middle-woman.

What’s the difference knowing Brittany’s doing the same? She supposes there isn’t one.

“Well, I guess I’ve found the real reason why you agreed to do this,” Santana says to fill the silence. As the words leave her, there’s an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Brittany looks away and replies, “I guess so.”

There’s a long pause where the two of them look anywhere but at each other. Santana’s gears are moving a mile a minute just trying to figure out the why of it all while Brittany’s – Brittany’s a mystery.

Santana glances back at her curiously, watching her profile and suddenly wanting to know more. How could someone be so blindly hopeful? Who knows if she’ll ever get that answer, but until then she still has to fulfill her obligation to Brittany tonight.

“Well, if this is what you really want to do then,” Santana pauses – trying to shake off the surprise and get back into the zone. Tonight’s about Brittany and being her perfect fake girlfriend and what Brittany wants, Brittany gets. “Then we’ve got to do this the right way. Really show him what he’s missing.”

Brittany quirks a brow, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Guys like him always want what they can’t have,” Santana says simply. “It’ll be so easy.”

“And what do you suggest?”

Santana smirks, “Just follow my lead.”

\\

Santana’s lead ends up involving lots of flirting. Her goal was to help Brittany make Artie jealous, but she secretly kind of likes the uncomfortable look he gets anytime he happens to glance their way. He’s not so cocky and arrogant now!

It only gets worse when Brittany offers Santana a dance.

They find Mike and Tina again on the dancefloor and the couple waves to Santana and Brittany happily before getting lost in the music again. Santana and Brittany do the same, but it takes them a second before they find their synchronicity.

Afterall, this is their first time dancing together – things are bound to get a little awkward.

Thankfully, it’s all upbeat stuff – songs that are easy to groove to and they find their rhythm a couple songs in. The couple keeps it tame for the most part, almost forgetting what all of this is for, until they notice Artie watching again from a distance.

Brittany notices him first and starts dipping her hands lower and lower down Santana’s back, letting them settle low around her waist. It has Santana’s heart rate spiking until she catches on and starts letting her hands roam too.

“Poor guy,” Santana jokes when she catches sight of him. “He has no idea what he’s started.”

Brittany chuckles although she shakes her head, “It’s almost mean.”

“Fuck him,” Santana shrugs before turning her back to Brittany. She reaches back with one hand settling at the base of Brittany’s neck. “It’s his loss. Isn’t that the point of this?”

“You’re right,” Brittany nods. She leans into the crook of Santana’s neck, “His loss.”

Brittany then sets her hands on Santana’s hips, strong and steady, and pulls her in close so that their hips fit snuggly. It surprisingly tugs at something deep and dormant within Santana and she finds herself leaning into it, rolling her head back to rest against Brittany’s shoulder.

With the way Brittany’s rocking into her along with the beat, Santana has to bite her cheek to keep from making a noise. Who knew someone who spends most of their day in a musty library could move like this? Santana’s a little starstruck to say the least.

She can’t remember the last time she danced with someone like this and she starts to feel the effects of the alcohol and a tiny bit of desperation because it’s been such a long time. It’s actually sad how tightly she’s wound up. She’s sure she’d probably snap from just a touch which is so not her style, but she knows she’s not in the right kind of company to finally break.

She’s on the job; Brittany’s a job and there’s no time for mixing pleasure with work.

But damn, does it feel good when Brittany’s hands squeeze at her hips. Or when she rocks into her so smoothly along with the beat. Or how it sends shivers all over her when Brittany whispers into her ear – she’s not even saying anything risky but God it doesn’t matter.

And even if all of this is for show, Santana’s so deprived of this kind of affection that she doesn’t care – Brittany can use her all night if she wants.

Santana doesn’t begin to notice where her thoughts are taking her until she spots Artie wheeling away.

“He’s leaving,” Santana notes as she turns in Brittany’s embrace.

Brittany’s hands go to rest against the small of Santana’s back, “Do you think he gets the idea?”

Santana smirks and looks up at Brittany, “I think everyone gets the idea.”

A blush starts to bloom as blue eyes dart bashfully away, “Sorry. Was that too much? I was just following your lead like you said.”

“It’s fine. It’s the most action I’ve had in awhile,” Santana jokes.

Brittany gives her a unimpressed look but Santana’s smile only grows because of it.

The music shifts to something slow, old school Elvis. Santana recognizes the instrumental instantly; Maribel and Eddie’s first dance song. Honestly, it’s most couple’s first dance song – apparently you can’t get any more creative than Can’t Help Falling in Love.

She attempts to find her exit, but they’re surrounded by couples now. It would cause way too big of a scene to try and escape, so she goes with her only option. She lets Brittany take the lead and they start to sway.

Santana’s fingers thread at the back of Brittany’s neck while the blonde’s hands fall to Santana’s hips. They do the slow side-to-side move, but the sudden closeness has Santana feeling oddly shy. It’s bringing back memories of school functions and dancing awkwardly with dates she never wanted.

“You really miss it that much?” Brittany asks softly while they sway. “All the hook-ups?”

Santana sputters a laugh, unsure of how to respond, but one look at Brittany has her realizing that the blonde is genuinely asking. Her smile falters and she goes back to looking everywhere but inquisitive blue eyes.

“You gonna shame me for it again?” Santana asks jokingly.

She hates how quickly things between them can feel way too personal for her liking. Even more so, she hates how easy it’s starting to be to want to open up more around the girl.  

“No, I was just curious,” Brittany shrugs. “This probably isn’t what you’re used to doing at a place like this.”

“I’m not usually at places like this.”

“You know what I mean,” Brittany replies. “Parties or clubs or whatever. You wouldn’t be slow dancing with a potential lay. You don’t seem like that kind of girl.”

Santana scoffs playfully, “Well once again, you don’t know me at all. Slow dancing is my jam, it really gets the girls hot and bothered.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “Seriously?”

“Of course not,” Santana chuckles. “I’m usually out of there by the time the slow songs come on. They’re not my style.”

“Knew it.”

“But it’s not horrible,” Santana dismisses as they continue to sway. “I wouldn’t say slow dancing with you is at the top of my list of the worst things I’ve ever had to do.”

Brittany looks surprised, “Oh really?”

“It’s in the Top 5 for sure,” Santana jokes. “But it’s not number one.”

“You’re too kind,” Brittany jokes.

“I try. But hey – you’ve surprisingly got rhythm, Pierce!” Santana compliments. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer.”

Brittany laughs, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Santana chuckles, “First the little thing you’ve got for Wheels and now this? I don’t think I can handle anymore surprises for the rest of night.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “But you’re having fun?”

Santana shrugs, trying to be dismissive but her smile gives her true feelings away. She’s at a fancy place with great music and free alcohol looking fly as hell and one of her missions for the night is to piss off a chauvinistic douchebag – fun is an understatement.

“It’s not the kind of ragers I’m used to,” Santana teases. “But yeah – I’m having fun. Dancing with you is fun.”

Brittany’s face fills with a grin, “Yeah. I think dancing with you is fun too. It’s a bonus that Artie gets a little peeved as well.”

“That’s probably my favorite part,” Santana agrees and they continue dancing for a little while longer.

\\

Santana finds that messing with Artie is child’s play, but it’s oh so satisfying.

Santana and Brittany take turns pretending to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear once they get to their assigned table. They find it easy to giggle along with one another when their sweet nothings are really just lame pick up lines that would never work in real life. But they say it in these ramped up seductive voices and that makes it all the more hilarious.

Meanwhile, Artie sits across from them with a sourpuss look on his face.

Maybe they’ve gotten away from the point of all this – that being to make Artie jealous – or maybe it really is working? Whatever it is, Santana can’t find it in her to reel them back in, not when it’s this much fun.

\\

Dinner is served not too long after and Santana’s amazed once again by the spread. There’s giant cuts of filet mignon atop a colorful array of fresh Spring veggies. There’s oysters and huge lobster tails and extravagant towers of shrimp! The organizers clearly spared no expense with the menu and Santana excitedly awaits her dinner as the waitstaff start to come around to top up everyone’s wine glasses.

Santana watches as dishes are set down in front of everyone, all alternating between seafood and steak and the occasional vegetarian option. Everything looks so damn good and she glances next to her, wondering what Brittany will get.

“I ordered the shrimp,” Brittany tells her just as the plate is set down. “I got you the steak. I hope that’s okay? I wasn’t too sure.”

“Classy,” Santana nods as her plate is set down too. The garnishes make it look like artwork and she’s almost too afraid to touch it. “God, this looks so good. You didn’t mention there was free food too. This place is heaven.”

Brittany chuckles as she reaches for her cutlery.  

While everyone eats, there’s quiet chatter amongst the table.

Santana’s so glad that Mike and Tina are around, at least that’s one couple that she doesn’t mind. Most people are pretty pretentious – all I’m so much smarter than you because I know random shit about random shit – and it makes Santana want to roll her eyes so hard but she doesn’t for Brittany’s sake.

Unlike Santana, Brittany gets along well with everyone and somehow sees past the horrible personalities. That’s not too surprising considering how she feels about Artie though.

Then again, maybe Brittany was right about there being a nice guy underneath all that ego because when Artie does finally get to talking to her again – he’s not a dick. They talk excitedly about comics or something and Santana notes the way they both light up.

For once, there’s a glimpse of him being a decent human being and maybe – just maybe – Santana sees what Brittany does.

But he’s not off the hook just yet, not after the way he started off the night. She doesn’t want to rock the boat though, so she quietly eats her dinner and plays the role of perfect fake girlfriend just like she said she would. This night isn’t about her, it’s about Brittany and she’s going to do her best to keep it that way.

\\

A while later, dessert begins to be brought out as a few speeches are given up on stage. The announcer talks about the many prestigious teams in the room and how talented everyone is judging by their high percentages. Most of it goes over Santana’s head, not really interested in how academic decathlon clubs work but what does spark some interest though is when the awards start getting presented.

There’s a kind of anticipation that settles over the room and Santana looks around noting just how many clubs are in attendance. She had no idea academic decathlons were a thing until this year, but to see everyone so on edge as they await the reveal of this year’s winner really puts things into perspective for her.

When Santana glances to her side, she finds that Brittany’s got her eyes squeezed tight and her fingers are crossed on both hands. As she looks around the room, she sees club members look similarly – hoping and praying.

The Brainiacs happen to come in Second Place in the overall thing, but Brittany stands and claps along with everyone else despite things not going her team’s way. Santana watches her and smiles because this girl really is just so pure. Here she is clapping and pumping her fist in the air as the first place team take to the stage. Nothing about it is forced because she’s genuinely happy for them and that amazes Santana.

She didn’t think people like Brittany actually existed and yet there she stands.

\\

The lead up for presenting the award for Most Brilliant Brainiac is much more anticipated.

Santana looks around the room as it seems like everyone’s on the edge of their seat. It’s almost comical, because it’s basically an award for the biggest nerd in the room and these people actually want it.

Still, Santana listens quietly.

She notices Artie fixing his dumb bowtie and checking his teeth in the reflection of his silver spoon as if he already knows what’s coming. She so hopes he doesn’t win just because of that. She doesn’t care who it goes to, she doesn’t care if it’s an even bigger tool than him – if that’s even possible – all she cares about is watching the guy get the biggest reality check known to man.

Suddenly, she’s on the edge of her seat just like everyone else.

“This year the award goes to,” The announcer pauses for dramatic effect.

Santana’s still waiting for the name to be called out, but the spotlight shining directly beside her is answer enough.

“No way!” Brittany beams. She doesn’t know what to do with herself, she just looks from side to side making sure that the spotlight is on the right person. “Me? It’s me?”

“Come on up, Miss Pierce!” The announcer gestures proudly.

Their entire table turns to applaud. Santana notices Mike with the biggest grin on his face as he claps while Tina’s snapping picture after picture for her article.

Brittany’s in awe as she makes her way onto the stage, the crowd roaring with applause as she goes. When she gets to the podium, the man hands her a gold trophy shaped like a brain and then presents her to the room.

“Here she is, folks! This year’s Most Brilliant Brainiac! Give it up for Miss Brittany S. Pierce!”

Before she realizes it, Santana’s on her feet in a second and claps so hard her hands start to sting.

“That’s my girl!” She shouts and pumps her fist in the air.

Brittany must hear her from the stage because she ducks her head bashfully at the shout out, her cheeks going a little pink as she soaks in the applause.

Santana glances over at Artie who barely claps. She rolls her eyes at him, because he yet again shows his true colors. How he flies under the radar is a mystery to her, but Brittany’s not around to hold her back this time.

So she points a threatening finger at him and rubs a little salt in his ego.

“Take that, Professor X! You suck so bad!”

Artie looks a little scandalized, but he keeps his mouth shut as Brittany absorbs the limelight. She looks at her trophy like she can’t believe its hers and Santana swears she sees those pretty blue eyes start to well with tears. This time they’re happy tears though and Santana’s so relieved for that!

A moment later, Brittany’s making her way back to their table with her new trophy in hand.

“Look! It’s so heavy,” Brittany giggles as she shows off the award to Santana.

Santana smiles fondly. Only Brittany could be this proud about being the dorkiest dork in the room. She doesn’t know what it is about the way she looks, the way her eyes light up to match the brilliance of her smile, the way they seem to be even bluer than usual.

All she knows is that she can’t help but pull Brittany in for a deep kiss.

She can feel the way Brittany stiffens in her arms at first before relaxing – the kiss takes her by surprise too, she can only imagine what Brittany’s thinking.

Alarm bells ring but then she feels a cool hand touch her cheek and suddenly everything stops because she’s being kissed back.

Brittany’s kissing her back.

It’s soft and gentle and when Santana pulls away, she’s swears she sees stars.

All Santana’s thinking about is the way Artie spoke to Brittany earlier, how he scolded her like a child. She thinks about Brittany’s parents and how they never truly supported her until recently. She thinks about the stories Brittany’s told about her experiences in high school and her time at MIT. She thinks about how after all of that, Brittany’s still maintained her kindness.

Brittany’s better than her, she’s so much better than everyone here, and she doesn’t even know it.

And maybe Santana’s just really proud of her – that’s why she kissed her? Maybe she’s just really into her whole fake girlfriend role right now? Maybe she’s just super committed and she’s finally matched Brittany’s level of going above and beyond?

That’s got to be the explanation for it, because no way she’ll admit to it being anything else.

“I’m so proud of you,” Santana quickly says. “Way to stick it to those guys.”

Brittany blushes, “I really didn’t expect anyone to vote for me. I hope they’re not mad.”

“Fuck them if they are!” Santana retorts. “You worked so hard for this. If they can’t be supportive of you then they don’t deserve you as a teammate.”

Brittany relaxes upon hearing Santana’s words, “You mean that?”

Santana smiles and nods like it’s simple, “Well yeah. You’re a genius, Britt.”

Brittany grins again and looks down at her trophy bashfully, “I’m also Brilliant.”

“Yeah, that too,” Santana chuckles.

They go to take their seats when they realize everyone’s kind of staring at them still. Santana doesn’t care all that much, Brittany deserves the recognition. She finds a kind of joy in making sure she knows it too.

“Seriously though, congrats,” Santana tells her. “You really earned it.”

Brittany ducks her head before leaning closer and whispers low enough so only Santana can hear. The move makes Santana’s heart suddenly race as she’s reminded of their time on the dancefloor earlier.

“Is that you talking or my fake girlfriend?” Brittany asks.

Santana bites her lip as she ponders that. For the first time, it’s kind of hard to tell. This arrangement is like being on-call; you never know when they have to slip into character so now it’s second nature and maybe it’s finally starting to blur the lines which Santana didn’t think would ever be possible.

But just to be safe she says, “I’m a pretty good actress. Aren’t I?”

Brittany only smirks as they both start to giggle and admire her new trophy while Artie stews in his jealousy.

\\

They spend the rest of the Ball taking pictures with Brittany’s trophy for the school magazine and hitting the dancefloor once again.

Obviously, the dancing is the best part and by now everyone’s got a good buzz going with the amount of booze in the place. It’s surprisingly a good time – one of the best Santana’s had in months and it’s even more surprising that it’s in Brittany’s company.

If you would’ve told her at the start of the semester that this is where she’d be right now, she wouldn’t have believed you at all. Never in a million years would she be caught dead in a place like this, but it’s funny how things change – how relationships evolve.

Just tonight, she walked into this Ball wondering if she even stood a chance up against Brittany’s wrath. She really messed up, she knows that, but all of this is new territory for her. She’s not used to looking out for anyone else other than her family and Puck, but she’s starting to get it now.

If Brittany was anyone else, Santana probably wouldn’t have cared about her hurt feelings the other night. She would’ve let the girl go without a second thought because who has time to put up with the drama, but this relationship has her doing a lot of things she normally wouldn’t.

It’s reintroducing her to things that have been long forgotten and Santana doesn’t really know how to feel about that. It’s drudging up the old Santana; the vulnerable, the gullible, the sensitive one who has no place here now.

It’s a lot more than she signed up for, but she supposes it’s only natural to have those feelings start to resurface again when they’re both so committed to playing their roles perfectly. If anything, it’s a reminder that once upon a time Santana really was perfect girlfriend material.

And tonight, she gets to live out that little memory.

Maybe if her heartbreak didn’t harden her, maybe this is what she’d be like? Maybe she’d actually date a girl like Brittany? Maybe she’d stop selling herself short just like Puck said? Maybe she’d stick around long enough for something real to happen?

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

It always takes Santana by surprise that when she gets to thinking like this, it’s always in the presence of Brittany. This girl; Santana knew being with her would be a challenge but not like this. She can’t hold it against her though, after all this is her idea and really it could be so much worse than what it is.

They don’t really owe each other anything, they’re just pawns in their elaborate games – but here they are dancing the night away without a care in the world and for once things feel fine.

It’s a nice break from all that heaviness from earlier.

And for a moment, Santana doesn’t think it’s all too bad. The whole possibility of being friends with Brittany thing; when it’s like this, it really isn’t the worst thing ever.

She might actually kind of like it.

Other than Puck, Santana doesn’t really have that many people she’s close with. She doesn’t have many people she’d consider friends. For the past two years, maybe even longer, she’s kept people at an arm’s length.

After everything, she’s just not into getting close to anyone anymore. Letting people into her shit sounds like a lot of work and kind of terrifying.

What if they don’t like what they find? What if she’s too much? What if they decide to leave too? What if it changes her again?

It’s too big of a risk. It’s best that she does the leaving instead. It’s the only way she can keep some type of control on things, because no way she’ll let anyone go for a joyride with her feelings again.

She likes to keep her circle small, but being around Brittany starts to make her wonder. What’s the harm in trying?

A thought like that makes her laugh though; that hopefulness is a direct result of hanging around Brittany way too much.

“It’s so hot in here! Why’s it so hot?” Brittany sighs and wipes at her brow with the back of her hand. Her cheeks are flushed and sweat glistens in the hollow of her neck deliciously.

Santana averts her eyes when she realizes she’s staring.

“You’re dancing up a storm, that’s why!” Santana teases.

“Because it’s so much fun!” Brittany does a twirl then starts to sway when she stops. “The dizziness…not so much.”

“Maybe don’t spin around like that?” Santana suggests playfully. “You want to go outside? Get some air?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Brittany nods but just before she follows after Santana she runs back to the table. “Mike! Mike, watch my trophy!”

Mike drunkenly nods and gives her a thumbs up.

“Thanks! Okay, let’s go,” Brittany tells Santana and leads the way out.

They end up going to the grand steps Santana walked up earlier in the night and take a seat by one of the columns. The air is crisp and refreshing compared to the stuffiness inside and it’s such a relief. They rest their heads back and soak it in.

“You see Artie’s face when I won?” Brittany giggles.

Santana smirks, “Oh yeah. That prick; I was hoping he’d lose. Makes it even better that it was to you.”

“I know I shouldn’t think it but,” Brittany pauses to take in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. “I’m glad he lost too. Maybe it’ll bring him down a notch.”

Santana chuckles, “Hopefully it’ll bring him down a few notches. That guy is a piece of work. I still can’t believe you’re into him.”

Brittany ducks her head and sighs again as they fall into a comfortable silence.

Even if Brittany doesn’t show it, Santana can feel something’s gone unsaid.

They haven’t talked about the kiss from earlier, but maybe there’s nothing that they need to talk about? They’re out in public, it goes without saying that they have to do what normal couples would – like kiss when your girlfriend wins an award.

Why would they need to talk about it? It’s not like it was the first time they’ve ever done that. Then again, when Santana gets to thinking – the last time was New Year’s Eve.

Maybe Santana’s just overthinking it all? This is why she doesn’t do relationships or feelings – real or not! They’re confusing and annoying and she doesn’t want it.

God, she wishes she was on Brittany’s level of tipsy. That would make things so much easier!

“You know when we were talking before, you said that we’ve got too much in common,” Brittany mentions awhile later. She keeps her eyes turned up to the sky as she asks, “What’d you mean by that?”

The question takes Santana by surprise as she tries to remember their conversation from earlier. When she does, she wishes that she didn’t. It’s not a subject she loves talking about, nor does she love revisiting its memories, but for some odd reason she can feel her safeguard wavering.

“I guess I was in your place once with Artie,” Santana replies. “Sort of.”

“You were into him too?”

Santana chuckles at the joke, “No way. I mean, I fell for someone I shouldn’t have.”

“What happened?”

Santana pauses, wondering if she wants to go down this road. The only other person she’s ever talked about all this to is Puck and that’s only because he was partly involved. She’s done her best to bury every feeling, every memory, but there’s something about Brittany that has Santana opening up just a little more.

“There was a girl a long time ago,” Santana finds herself saying before glancing Brittany’s way. “The one from the picture in my room back in Lima.”

Brittany nods and quietly encourages her to continue.

“She was my best friend growing up,” Santana says. “The only one who ever understood me. We were close, closer than friends should be. Eventually, I wanted to be more – make things official.”

“You?” Brittany asks in disbelief.

“I know, shocking,” Santana jokes through a sad smile. “She said she wanted it too, but she was afraid. She wanted to keep things hidden, keep us hidden, and I…I loved her so I followed along.”

Santana feels her chest tighten with that long-forgotten pain, but then Brittany’s hand finds hers. She squeezes softly at her hand and suddenly the feeling isn’t so bad.

“She kept saying one day it’ll be different,” Santana goes on. “One day we won’t have to hide, one day we’d just run off together, but until then we had to pretend. It sounded like a good plan and I felt so strongly about her, so I waited. I watched her get into relationships with guy after guy just to keep people off of our scent, off of her scent.”

“The older we got, the further in the closest she went. It was like she forget that it was all a cover and the life she was living was a lie.”

Brittany nods sympathetically.

“I ended up coming out midway through our Junior year,” Santana says. “I thought that maybe if I went first then she’d see that it was okay, but it kind of had the opposite effect. Something happened, maybe her parents divorce or something else? I don’t know, but she changed and not in a good way. I was out and proud but it was hard when the girl I loved wasn’t. It kind of felt pointless but I kept waiting for her.”

“By Senior year, I started to lose hope. I guess she did too because it stopped being about us running off together. Instead it was only her doing the running,” Santana continues. “While everyone was making their big plans for college, she was a mystery.”  

She starts to feel that annoying lump in her throat forming and swallows it back.

“All I knew was that she was getting out of Lima by any means necessary,” She says with a deep sigh. “She was so closed off though, spiraling even. I had no idea what her plans were anymore. No one did. I just didn’t think that it involved stealing my shot at a scholarship.”

“Wait, what?” Brittany frowns. “What scholarship?”

“My school had this partnership with Harvard,” Santana answers half-heartedly. “An alumni or whatever is a big wig there and has this scholarship aimed at students with extraordinary promise in law. It’s such a waste, really. No one usually goes for it because no one ever dreams of getting out of there nor would they dare go to law school, but getting out of Lima was always our dream. With her family background, she could get in easy but me? It was a little harder. That scholarship was my only shot and she took it.”

“How’d she do that?”

Santana shrugs, “It’s always been a mystery. Out of the entire school, we were the only ones who even cared enough to look into it. We agreed before that with my GPA and personal goals that I’d have the better chance of getting it, but that was before things changed. It’s no coincidence that she got in and not me. I ticked every box when it came to the type of candidate they were looking for.”

“You couldn’t tell the organizers about it?” Brittany asks. “Have them kick her out or something?”

Santana sighs, “I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Why not? Santana, that’s seriously unfair. This is your education, something you’re so passionate about.”

“I know,” Santana answers dejectedly. “Believe me, I know. But, I was young and in love and stupid. I still had hope for some reason, hope that she’d snap out of it? I knew she took her parents divorce really hard and things had changed for her in terms of getting into Harvard with their help. Maybe she needed the scholarship more than me?”

“Even so, that’s not the way to go about it. That’s not fair to you.”

“True,” Santana nods. “But a part of me figured that maybe once she got in and got settled, she’d be okay? Maybe we’d be okay again. Maybe getting out of Lima was something she needed way more than I did? I guess I was wrong though.”

Brittany looks to Santana apologetically but Santana hates that look. She hates being seen as anything but confident and sure and unwavering.

“See? Told you I’m not selfish,” Santana tries to joke to ease the tension.

It doesn’t really change the way Brittany watches her though.

“Yeah, I guess you were right.”

“Surprise,” Santana lets out a weak chuckle as she averts her gaze. “It sure did backfire though. Huh?”

“Have you heard from her since?” Brittany asks. “Did she ever apologize?”

“Hell no,” Santana tries to laugh off the pain. “She didn’t even stick around for our graduation ceremony. She just packed up and left. No goodbye or anything.”

“Wow,” Brittany shakes her head. “How could someone who’s supposed to care about you hurt you like that?”

Santana finds herself smirking as she looks to Brittany. She has no idea she’s in the same sort of situation with Artie. It’s always easier making sense of things when it isn’t your problem though she supposes.

“Anyway, it’s whatever,” Santana waves off. “It’s been two years and I still wonder why the hell I gave up a Harvard education for a girl. Love makes you do dumb shit, it’s the worst.”

Brittany goes to squeeze Santana’s hand again, “I’m so sorry, Santana.”

Santana keeps on her brave face, “It’s fine.”

“It isn’t.”

Santana knows, but she just shrugs. What’s the point of feeling sorry for herself now?

“I guess what I was meaning earlier is that,” Santana continues. “Maybe this thing between you and Artie; it’s better for you in the long run if you spare yourself the heartache and accept that people change. Sometimes it’s for the worst and you can’t do a thing about it. It is what it is, you know? You can wait but it’s only wasting your time in the end – take it from me.”

Brittany nods and they both rest back against the column again, sitting in each other’s company in silence. It’s like Brittany’s taking in all that Santana has said while Santana attempts to pack up all those little memories she’s just drudged up and stuff them away.

“People change for the better too though,” Brittany mentions quietly. “Sometimes all that patience and time you put into waiting ends up being worth it.”

“Maybe,” Santana nods. “I just don’t know how to be that optimistic anymore. I’m too tired.”

“I get that,” Brittany replies and leans her head against Santana’s.

Santana finds herself leaning against Brittany too, relaxing against each other in a peaceful balance. Another comfortable silence settles over them and Santana’s thankful for it. After opening up to Brittany, she doesn’t think she can handle anymore of these heart to hearts.

Another reason she keeps to herself, talking about feelings is exhausting.

“You know…I didn’t say it before because I was still kind of mad at you,” Brittany mentions softly. “But I’m glad you changed your mind about tonight. I’m glad you’re here.”

Santana smirks, feeling a giddiness flutter in her chest that chases off the remaining heaviness there. “Yeah well, picturing you suffer here all alone with these losers wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. Thought I’d come see it for myself.”

Brittany snickers and pokes lightly at Santana’s side.

“Sounds like you might be taking a liking to me,” Brittany teases.

Santana scoffs playfully, “God no.”

“I mean, if you really wanted me to suffer you could’ve worn something that would make you look a little less…”

Santana glances over to find Brittany stumbling on the right word. The hesitance makes her smirk.

“Hot? You were going to say hot.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I wasn’t.”

“Sure,” Santana teases. “You can admit it, Britt-Britt. You think I look fine as hell.”

Brittany shakes her head although she begins to blush. “You always this full of yourself?”

“You should know the answer to that by now,” Santana quips as she rises to stand. She strikes a sexy pose while Brittany continues to sit before her. “Come on. Would you really rather I turn up here looking a hot mess? I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of being arm candy.”

Brittany’s eyes rake up Santana’s body, taking in all her perfection. Just like the powers of her cheerleading skirt, Santana’s dress works wonders all the same.

“I guess not,” Brittany admits.

Santana grins, “That’s what I thought.”

“But you’re not just arm candy to me,” Brittany teases sweetly.

Santana instantly rolls her eyes and holds out her hand to Brittany, “Let’s get back in there. I think it’s time for another drink. I can still taste your Chapstick from earlier.”

Brittany giggles as Santana pulls her up, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

[simpingforsoftboys]

The Odds of Us All

Special CH1: A Glance At The Past (the one where Sakusa meets Y/n)

Okay so this chapter takes place right before Y/n’s first year of high school! I wanted to write more Sakusa within the “The Odds of Us All” AU but it’s not my dudes time to shine yet :( So here we are, I’m going to write about the time Y/n met Kiyo ahahhaha. Enjoy my fellow Sakusa simps ;)

*technically this can be read as a stand alone one shot but why would you only settle for that when you can read the series?

“Y/n, I know you want to stick by Tetsuro and Kenma... but you seriously need to consider your future. Eventually you’ll have to separate from them, don’t let your history hold you back in the past.” M/n Ushijima, Y/n’s competent and straight forward mother advised, gazing at her daughter with a knowing stare. At the moment the h/c girl was looking through a long lists of high schools she had the options of attending. Her top four options were Fukurodani Academy, Shiratorizawa Academy, Itachiyama Institute, and Nekoma High. 

Fukurodani was a good option, they had a focus on subjects like Japanese and English literature, as well as history and art. While Nekoma High’s more favored subjects were the STEM courses, and they even had a bonus of being the chosen high school of her childhood friends, Kuroo and Kenma. These two were the cheapest options- neither of them being a private academy like the other two. 

Itachiyama Institute was probably the place her mother wanted her to attend, they were renowned for their excellent college prep classes, exceptional sports teams, and high rate of graduating students getting into Imperial Universities (Japan’s Ivy League basically). Shiratorizawa Academy was all the way in Miyagi- but they had a dorm that she could stay in. There was also the fact that she was guaranteed an invitation from the headmaster himself, due to the Ushijima family’s children studying there as per tradition. Her cousin Wakatoshi also attended the school, as expected of him, if she chose to follow his lead she was guaranteed friends and a good time also.

Choosing a high school was hard- especially when her mother was pushing her in one direction, only to backtrack and say that she would support her no matter what school she wanted to attend. Y/n briefly wondered what it’d be like when deciding on a university in the future- however those thoughts were far from pleasant so she shook them off. 

“I... don’t know mom.” M/n looked at her daughter long and hard, releasing a soft sigh before pulling out her phone and tapping away.

“How about you take Itachiyama’s entrance exams and see if you at least qualify? Any other school on this list will accept you as a student in a heartbeat. At least this way you’ll know if Itachiyama is even an option for you.”

You blinked, considering her words, they made sense so you agreed.

“Great, the entrance exams are this Sunday, I’ll drop you off then.”

~Time skip to Sunday, location: Itachiyama Institute~

You had finally finished the god awful tests. It had taken an excruciating three hours of your time to complete and your brain felt like literal mush. Stomach rumbling, you made your way to one of the vending machines you remembered passing by earlier. One thing you were glad for was the location of the exams- right in the administration wing of the school- naturally, the heads of the place had access to the best snacks. You walked silently, eyes gazing at the ceiling, not paying attention to anything but the fluorescent lights. Rounding the hallway corner, your eyes fell to the end of the hall- where the vending machine was located. Humming a small tune you continued your leisure stroll, fishing through your pocket for your credit card. After retrieving it you purchased a mini chocolate cake (that looked more like a brownie than anything), white chocolate matcha cookie, and a tiny cup sized bottle of milk tea. As the transaction was going through, you picked up on approaching footsteps and people’s voices. 

“Apologies *indistinguishable*-san I simply must take this phone call. There’s a vending machine around the corner, would you please wait for me there?” An adult said, heavy footsteps receding, a door opened, then shut. You turned back to the task of collecting your snacks. 

“Is this what I think it is?” A noticeably younger sounding male’s voice asked, barely audible. You vaguely wondered what was going on over there, before promptly setting your food on a nearby chair, pulling out your hand sanitizer and applying it swiftly. As you contemplated what snack to indulge yourself with first, you were deaf to the incoming footsteps and soft gasp from behind you.

“But if I ate the cake I might accidentally spill crumbs in the hallway... maybe the cookie’s a better idea?” You wondered, pocketing your sanitizer, still oblivious to the boy behind you. “Hmm...”

“Uhh... excuse me?” That voice from earlier called out, startling you. You whipped around, only to make eye contact with pretty onyx eyes, the color of warm coal and cooled lava rock. His entire being was outlined in a highlighter yellow- it was kind of fitting, having matched the schools signature colors. 

‘Woah my soulmate’s actually kinda hot,’ you thought to yourself, taking in the boys appearance. Wavy black hair, two moles above his right eye, you couldn’t see the rest of his face- since it was obscured by a white face mask. He was perhaps 5′11- but something told you he was on the cusp of a growth spurt. So caught up in your musings you hadn’t noticed that you had accidentally voiced your thoughts out loud. “Thank god he’s not an old man.”

“...Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Mr. Highlighter questioned, staring at you incredulously. 

“Oh no did I say that out loud? I am so sorry- I swear I didn’t mean too!” You exclaimed before bowing in apology, cheeks hot with embarrassment. Sometimes you spoke whatever was on your mind- a bad habit you were currently working hard on breaking.

“...” He didn’t say anything, still looking at you judgingly. Internally he was wondering why he was destined to be with someone like you. “Sakusa.”

“Huh?” You straightened back up, wide eyed. 

“My name’s Sakusa Kiyoomi... this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce yourself.” Uh oh ‘Sakusa’ sounded a tad bit irritated with you now. His name sounded familiar somehow... but you didn’t quite know why.

“R-right! My name’s Ushijima Y/n!” You smiled nervously, awaiting his reaction. He looked pleasantly surprised at that.

“Ushijima? Like Ushijima Wakatoshi?” Your smile dwindled slightly at his choice of words. Of course he was excited- not because he met you- but because he was able to use you to meet Toshi. 

“Yeah... he’s actually my first cousin.” Attempting to keep the conversation flowing you asked “are you a volleyball fan?” 

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi noticed how you reacted when he asked about Wakatoshi, so he decided to avoid that topic for now. 

“Mm... I’m actually a player. That’s what I’m here for... I was scouted for the volleyball team.” He says it so nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t sought out to join the best high school boys team in the entire country. 

You’re just as impressed as he hoped thought you’d be, all starry eyed and mouth open in awe. “Scouted? That’s amazing Sakusa!” He’s pleasantly surprised that you forgoed the honorifics, but a tad bit disappointed at your use of his surname. “You must be very skilled- I’m only here because I had to take the entrance exams.” 

“How were they?” He finds himself blurting out softly, it’s uncharacteristic of him- not that you could know that- but he finds that he doesn’t mind being a bit forward when it comes to you. Despite not usually being one for conversation, he doesn’t want this chat to end. 

“Mm they were okay I guess... but the math portion was pretty difficult.” Speaking about the hard exams remind you about how hungry they made you and your stomach gurgles in response. Behind his mask, Kiyoomi’s lips quirk at the abashed expression you make- which disappears once you wave it off with a laugh and a brief apology. “Want a cookie? Or a cake?” You question, nodding over to your waiting snacks. He shakes his head. It feels almost invasive as he watches you unwrap your cookie- noticing the care you take in making sure your fingers only touch the wrapper, not wanting to touch the cookie itself, lest you get crumbs on your hands. But you don’t look uncomfortable at his weird interest, so he continues to stare. “I can buy you a snack? What do you like to eat?”

“It’s fine, I have money.” The dark haired male pats his pocket, “I like umeboshi... anything with umeboshi.” Those enchanting e/c orbs flit over to him once more and he discovers that you’re probably the only person that could stare at him endlessly without making him uncomfortable. This thought scares him- he doesn’t even know you- he shouldn’t be thinking such things. You’re tapping away at the vending machines, cookie having been finished and trash tossed in a bin nearby. He assumes you’re just buying another snack for yourself.

“Here... is ume daifuku good?” You question, holding it out to him with one hand, while your other one reaches back into the dispenser part of the machine and retrieves a can of matcha tea. “Delivery for one!” The smile adorning your lips sends a pleasant feeling throughout his body, normal tendencies forgotten, he accepts your offer. 

“Thank you... can I pay you back? I don’t have cash on me at the moment, but maybe another time?” He pockets the canned tea and holds the daifuku in one hand, allowing you to spurt some hand sanitizer on his empty one. You shake your head, h/c hair swinging, his heart sinks in his chest- rejection overcoming him. 

“Don’t even think about paying me back Sakusa... but we can meet up again... maybe off of school grounds?” A shy look overtakes your features and he can feel his heart picking itself up off the floor and taking flight at how cute you are. 

“I... wouldn’t be opposed.” 

“Great, let’s keep in touch then! What’s your number? I’ll text you!” He tells you his number, watching as you type it into your phone quickly. 

“Say cheese!” You twirl around holding the camera up so that it focuses on Kiyoomi’s tall figure, your head poking in at the corner of the screen. He doesn’t do much- the only noticeable change in his demeanor is the *very* slightly shocked look on his face (you can tell by the wide stretch of his eyes). He licks his lips behind his mask and looks as if he wants to say something, but he doesn’t get the chance. 

“Sorry about that Sakusa let’s continue the tour- hm am I interrupting something?” The headmasters voice says from the end of the hallway, he’s pleased to see the two of you together. Both being the children of very influential people- it bode well for the school if you kids got along. 

“No, we’re good thank you... I’ll talk to you later Ushijima.” 

“Call me Y/n, Sakusa! I’ll text you okay?” 

The headmaster walks off, expecting Sakusa to follow. As he passes you he says one last thing. 

“You can call me Kiyoomi then.”

Series Masterlist

Taglist: CLOSED @kac-chowsballs​ @kotwd​ @ems1des​ @normalisthenewnorm @micheleinumaki @gomchan @empress-simps @mer-der-mi @honeyswhiskers @sakusas-number1-stan @astronomyturtle @akirahyoshi @afire24  @its-the-aerieljeane @carla-1217​ @fucktheworlddude @baes-x @shadoweepingscream @sirachano0dles @katamint @420-uwu @xstormiii​ @youtuboo​ @chibiitakoyaki

[reidecorating]

the bau team and their star signs based on science

hotch: clearly an aries. this is not up for debate and i don't take criticism. natural born and excellent leader? maybe. but bossy boots because he is just a bossy boss man who probably sleeps in a suit or those pyjamas that have suit graphics on them? most definitely. when he speaks, his voice sounds like it’s coming out in all lower case, when he yells, it’s all caps. angery. down to throw hands at anything in his immediate line of vision probably. will exterminate you like a roach if you mess with someone he cares about. don't break the rules or my boss will kill me 😡 to you're breaking the rules under MY supervision, that way my boss will kill US 🥰. probably microwaves food a lot. type of dad to say no to getting a dog, then two months later get matching christmas costumes with said dog. never stops working because he is an absolute UNIT built like the circuit of one of those infinity pools in bali. could use another sabbatical.

rossi: i saw his birth certificate and the rumours are true, he’s a november sagittarius. two wives away from being a modern day king henry the eighth. it’s rossi’s world and we’re all just living in it. he is a prophet. his third eye has been opened and he ascended to the seventh dimension at the age of 24. when he takes leave, the only way to contact him is through a ouija board in latin or maybe greek depending on the position of the sun. he will only die when he chooses to die but will dissolve at the words ‘what are we?’. the major arteries in his body are just long pieces of macaroni. definitely has hooked up with one person from every state the jet has landed in. no filter between his brain and mouth, will destroy your self confidence intentionally. uses abbreviations when texting. liberal - because of the experimenting back in college. probably friends with your mum on facebook.

prentiss: imagine her being anything but an air sign. you can't because she's clearly an aquarius?? work comes first (first equal with her girlfriend). if you tell her to do something she simply won't do it, especially if it was something she was just about to do. she once came home from a run with her mother in the summer and her mother politely suggested that she should drink some water. emily, an anarchist, did not drink water and was hospitalised for heatstroke in due course of proving her point of nonconformity. has been to jail. sucks on candy canes and makes them pointy because christmas is one of her least favourite days. on probation. no, i really like him *deletes his number*. maybe moves to iceland to become a sheep herder to avoid having to ever see anyone she has romantically affiliated with ever again. actually quite the jester, joke levels exceed 4000, but can make you laugh and cry in the span of approximately the length of a short youtube ad. the antichrist.

morgan: has at some point caused someone to question their sexuality. am i really a straight man? do i really only like women? - direct quotes from anyone who has seen him. if that doesn't scream libra i don't know what does. i’m trying to refrain from using the words ‘hot’, ‘sex god’, ‘rail me’. the kinda guy who will hold open a door for you, but also have no problem kicking one down for you. has never ditched class before. momma’s boy. tries to make his pecs move in the mirror. he KNOWS he’s hot okay??? but THEN its not just that because people are like ‘oh he's attractive’ but then they find out he’s RESPECTFUL, and INTELLIGENT and COMPASSIONATE and then that awkward moment when you just DIE because he is not flawed??? it’s like he’s a lucid dream??? probably secretly is really good at baking some obscure european good. uses colognes that have really manly man sounding names for instance, ‘Man Musk’, ‘Mystical Muscles’, ‘Beards and Buttercream’.

garcia: the epitome of a female pisces. a baddie™. definitely owns a pair of those really skinny sunglasses that influencers wear and looks like god herself while in them. spirals from being the momma bear to the wine-aunt. she will care about you so hard but if that's not reciprocated, will hack into your my eyes only and fax those pictures to every machine she can connect to. accidentally has flirted her way into at least 19 relationships. really good at writing fan fiction??? like - seriously good. knows 4 different synonyms for the word “member” iykyk. researches things the people she loves most enjoy, so when she talks to them she can have more detailed conversations. catches feelings for people who are definitely not good for her. sometimes just takes off her glasses because she's tired of, well... seeing. hand makes cute lil earrings for her friends. a master at fireboy and watergirl and will never play with anyone else because ‘another player just slows you down, i can do it myself in half the time’. THAT FRIEND WHO WILL WAIT FOR YOU TO TIE YOUR LACES.

jj: virgo. she was definitely that girl who had notes with pretty titles and colour coded highlighters in school. also did extracurriculars in the weekends so she’d have to be picked up from sleepovers early to go to soccer games. when she takes the time to learn something she learns it well and perfects any craft handed to her because anything less than 100% is failure in her eyes. gets annoyed when other people cry for too long probably. will judge you. so much. silently. especially if you cry. don't make her mad because she has caused civil unrest in 13 continents. live, laugh, love signs in her kitchen. security footage surfaced in 2007 of her roundhouse kicking a middle aged man, in the junk food aisle of a trader joe’s, after he took the last re-stocked bag of cheetos. has a ‘mom first, agent second’ mug that garcia got her. likes family walks which will most likely be planned out meticulously, involving a detailed itinerary of the day i.e. Henry’s toilet break, 10AM

reid: he despises star signs and anyone who gives them any thought because “where is the SCIENCE?” this bitch is a scorpio. definitely only knows his sun sign. so intense! have you seen the way he looks at things?? the way he stares??? the way he analyses dead bodies??? the way he loves??? ridiculously put together to everyone around him but emotionally life is soup and he is fork. kinky. breaks off bananas little by little with his hands before eating each piece individually because eating them normally is too sensual and he’s paranoid morgan might see him doing it and take a picture. wants the kind of love he reads about. has a superiority complex about having a superiority complex. keeps a straight face while saying literally anything so you cannot tell if he’s being serious or not like one day he’ll just be like “yeah i killed a man with an axe once to enable myself to more easily empathise with future unsubs who potentially work as lumberjacks or have a history of logging. it’s called method axing,” and then leave the room to draw circles on maps or something. believes that parallel parking should work, in theory, but never seems to work for him in practice.