#I’ve been saying this for the past month or so now

[rynwritesreid]

Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏

A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)

Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.

Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.

Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.” 

You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.

Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."

*

“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling. 

Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."

“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”

Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.

“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.

Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.

Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."

You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.

"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."

*

Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly. 

*

“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”

You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.

Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.

*

“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.

“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.

"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession. 

Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.

Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.

The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes. 

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.

You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.

“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”

Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.

"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him. 

“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.

"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.

Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.

“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.

“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.

You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.

“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution. 

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.

��Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.

“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.

In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.

Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface. 

“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.

“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.

Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.

“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.

“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.

With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.

"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.

Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.

"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."

You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.

"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."

With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.

Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.

You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.

"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."

His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.

"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.

"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."

Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.

"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.

His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.

"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.

"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."

Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.

Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.

"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."

You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.

"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."

You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.

"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."

"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."

Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."

Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.

He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement. 

You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.

The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.

"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."

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[anyarose011]

Emotional Motion Sickness {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: When it's only you, your father, Mary, and Angus left behind at Barton for Christmas, you and the boy (who you were an asshole to, but in all fairness, he was one to you too) decide to get to know each other; whilst sneaking around the school.

Part 3 of ?? (Part 1 , Part 2)

Warnings: Teddy Kountze (but not for long), swearing, underage drinking, mentions of past harassment, mention of pornography, and extremely long monologues that I think would be great audition material because I'm delusional :) .

Come get y'all juice (this shit was so much longer than I expected). This may be part 3 in the series, but this is part 1 of songs that are Agnus Tully/Reader coded. And also part 2 of you guys not being able to escape being an awkward teenager just because this is fanfiction. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7.1k

You didn’t talk to anyone the day after you told Angus Tully he didn’t have any friends (well…of course you talked to your father and Mary, but the boys? No; not even the freshmen).

It was warranted; you punched Teddy in the face, you ignored Jason, and Ye-Joon and Alex were probably afraid of you at that point. Angus had the biggest excuse of them all of course, and while you actually felt bad (to your own surprise), you couldn’t bring yourself to actually approach and apologize at the time. Call it pride, call it cowardice, but you suddenly felt so ashamed you couldn’t even speak to him.

So, save for the talks you had with Mary in preparing meals, the nighttime check-ins with your father, you kept your nose stuck in a book. You ignored Teddy’s glare (while also checking over your shoulder every time you passed by him), only gave slight nods to the younger boys, and Jason didn’t even bother talking to you about what he said the day before. Angus, apparently despite not talking to each other, had perhaps the most civilized of silent discussions with you. You would only make eye contact with each other…but somehow, just somehow, there was a bit of understanding between the two of you.

You also had given him your spare toothpaste along with his payment of chocolates and cigarettes for waking you up because you noticed that he was running low. He gave you this…look. Not one of disgust, but he was confused beyond belief, and you swore he was in his own little world as you talked about your reasoning and all he did was stare at you.

Weirdo.

The day after that, making it the sixth day of being stuck at the school, you were sitting on a stool in the kitchen, reading to Mary as she prepped for lunch. “‘Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said— ‘Mary, have you ever been in love before?’”

You paused, looking up from your book and watching as the Mary in front of you was doing what the Mary in the book was doing; cleaning the knives. She glanced back at you upon your quietness, giving you the eye.

“And? What did she say?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’m waiting for her to answer.”

Scoffing, she turned away. “You’re not that funny you know.”

“Yet you’re hiding your smile.”

“Am not.”

“Well have you?”

“Have what?”

“Been in love?”

She huffed. “I’m too sober for that conversation.”

“There’s some wine in the chapel-.”

Mary turned, pointing a knife at you. “-Don’t you dare.”

“What?! It’s not consecrated!”

“Still, you’re a baby, you can’t drink that stuff.”

“I’m going to technically graduate in a few months.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Sighing overdramatically, you leaned against the wall. “Can you just give me a yes or no?”

She turned and headed back to the counter she was at, looking at you. “Yes, I’ve been in love before.”

“When you were young?”

“Am I not young now?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.” She began to chop vegetables.

“Was it scary?”

“Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It happened later for me than most of my friends, so that’s probably why.”

Before you could ask another complex question, a humming noise caught your ear. You thought you were going insane at first until it had also apparently got Mary’s. After taking one glance at each other, you both followed the sound, and it led you to the nearest window.

Outside, in the sky, a yellow helicopter flew above you.

The next thing you knew, as you and Mary were rushing to the library to ask your father ‘What in God’s name is going on?’, you ran into everyone in the middle of the main hall, including a man you had never seen before.

Apparently, Jason’s father cracked and decided to come pick his son up for Christmas at the ski lodge. He also offered to take the rest of The Boys Left Behind. So, there you were after Mary left, deciding to stand outside with the rest of them as Jason, his dad, and your father sat in the administrative office, calling up everyone and their mother (quite literally).

“So, Hunham,” Teddy asked, his voice so grating you would rather claw your brain out with a fork than have to listen to him. “what’re you gonna do when all of us go skiing? Take some pictures?”

You shook your head, not letting it get under your skin. “No, I’ll probably spend time with Elise.”

“Elise?” The boys questioned.

“Yeah, we met in middle school.”

“Is she anything like you or is she pretty?” Teddy prodded.

Angus rolled his eyes. “I don’t think she’d really want to hang around a cesspool like you.”

Holy shit…he was actually standing up for you? Even after you told him he didn’t have any friends? Perhaps men hadn’t failed you completely (your most famous last words of this entire winter break…maybe not for the most part, but still).

You snorted, crossing your arms while still holding Jane Eyre. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let you meet her, Kountze.”

Before he could even attempt a comeback, your father came out through the door, and turned to the boys. “Well, good news gentlemen. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents;” He glanced at Angus for a second. “Most of them, anyway. I recommend all of you go pack, have a merry Christmas.”

The rest of the boys, including Jason who exited with his dad, raced past one another; all except Angus. You could see how he tried to hide his growing disappointment and went to the first stage of grief; denial.

“Could you try them again?” He asked your father.

Paul Hunham took a deep breath. “Alright.” He turned to Jason’s father, both men uttering a ‘Merry Christmas’, before yours went back into the office. Leaving you outside with Angus.

He leaned against the wall, folding his arms. Well…this was your chance to try and be nice to him again.

“If they don’t pick up, just tell him to keep calling.” You suggested.

Angus looked at you, shrugging. “Yeah, that was my plan already.”

“I always annoy him until I get what I want. Usually works for me.”

“So why aren’t you in Copenhagen?”

“…You.” There was a silence between the both of you, and to your surprise, you had to bite your tongue not because of anger, but to stop yourself from laughing. You gave him a nod. “I hope you get to go skiing; even if Kountze will be there.”

Not giving him time to respond, you walked right past him to your room in the infirmary. In your mind, best case scenario, everyone would go skiing and you and your dad would somehow make it to Copenhagen; middle case scenario, everyone would go skiing but you’d be left in Barton with Mary and your dad; worst case scenario, you were stuck with Angus…at Barton, over Christmas break.

While he was the one that irked you the least out of the boys your age, you weren’t really in the mood to be with him until the middle of January.

It was as you were sitting on the edge of your bed, reading the rest of Jane Eyre, when someone knocked on your door. Glancing up, you saw Alex. Smiling, you asked.

“You ready to go?”

He nodded, then walked into the room, holding out your mittens. “Sorry I forgot to give them back.”

You took them, standing and smiling. “No, you’re alright. If I’m honest, I would’ve let you keep them while you were here.”

“Are you and Angus going to be okay?”

Giving him a look, you chuckled. “Well, if there’s a god, then hopefully that means he’ll go with you guys.”

At that moment, both of your eyes were drawn to the doorway when you heard heavy footsteps and watched as Angus Tully stormed past.

“Okay, guess there isn’t.” You grumbled, then went back to sweet. “Don’t worry though, we’ll be civil with each other.”

“I think you should be friends.”

Well…that was unexpected. Still, you snickered. “Alex, are you saying neither of us have friends already? And I thought you were nice.”

“No just,” he sighed. “I heard Ye-Joon crying a few nights go, Angus told him friends are overrated, and Ye-Joon told me that Angus had been kicked out of a lot of schools…I don’t know.”

You nodded, completely understanding. “I’ll be nicer to him; I promise you that. Now go have a great Christmas.”

He grinned from ear to ear, unexpectedly hugging you. After freezing for just a moment, you hugged him back before pulling away. You bid each other goodbye, and he went running back to his room to pack. A few seconds later, it was Jason who was in your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Hello.”

He stood there stiffly, almost as if he was nervous for the first time in his life. “Um…I just wanted to say sorry.”

This intrigued you. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Jason fiddled with the bag in his hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you; Teddy was an asshole, end of story.”

You gave him a smile. “Thank you.”

The silence between you was different; not one of comfort, but not exactly discomforting either. Though, it was becoming that the more time dragged on.

“You know,” he grinned, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or a joke. “if we hurry, I could probably sneak you on?”

You merely kept your face the same; a pitiful, upturned mouth. “Merry Christmas, Jason.”

He nodded, taking the hint, wishing you a ‘Merry Christmas’ back, and left. Not exactly the best apology to receive, but you were more than happy you got one. Also happy that he didn’t call you names for refusing his advances; bare minimum, but welcome to the early 1970s.

Teddy followed soon after him, and he stopped in your doorway, turning his head to you. He only managed to take a breath to speak before you beat him to it.

“I hope you fall of the fucking ski lift, snap your fucking neck, and never recover.”

He only smiled. “I hope your business goes well. Tell Daniel I said ‘hi’.”

And that was the last time you saw him that Christmas break. He did indeed fall off a ski lift and snap his neck.

He didn’t actually, but you wished he did. When he walked past you, Ye-Joon was next, and you both just uttered a quick ‘Merry Christmas’, before he left. Knowing that Tully was still in the room, you decided it was best to avoid him, and went back to your father.

“No luck?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “No luck.”

Sighing, you glanced down at the floor. Great…it was official; you were still stuck with at least one boy who would for sure not have his brain developed until he was thirty at the youngest (or so you thought).

“Do you want to see the helicopter take off?” Your father asked.

You nodded, not knowing what else to do. So, that was how you found yourself, your father, and Angus (who surprisingly crawled out of the room to also watch it take off), in the snowy quad, watching as the ‘Boys Left Behind’ became the ‘Boys Who Are Now in a Damn Helicopter Going Skiing’. You thought the last title had a better sound to it.

Your father sighs from beside you, turning to look at you in the middle, and Angus to your right. “Well, let’s make the best of it.”

He went in soon after that, leaving you and Angus alone together. You wanted to say something, you probably should’ve. Yet, in all honesty, you had nothing to say, and you knew that if you forced yourself to come up with something, it would’ve been bad.

So that’s why you didn’t even look at him when you left. That’s why you avoided him for the rest of the day, luckily being able to spend most of it with Elise and doing nothing but making Christmas cookies with her and miss Crane (even though she’d already made more than enough to give to the teachers. They were…fine when your dad gave you one), and muting channels from the TV and voicing over them.

You and Elise had done that since you were kids…which actually wasn’t that long ago when you were still doing it.

When you got back, you helped Mary with dinner, than all ate in silence; save for your father trying to make conversation about your day since you were truly the only one out of all of you to have an interesting day.

That’s when the four of you found yourself in the teacher’s lounge; you reading Little Women, your father and Mary watching The Newlywed Game, and Angus reading Popular Mechanics in a chair far away from you.

As you were disappearing into your second read of the book, it was Mary who brought you out of it.

“Your daughter asked me an invasive question today.”

You looked up in alarm at the accusation. Paul Hunham sighed, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “And what, pray tell, was it this time?”

“Asked if I’d ever been in love.”

Your father said your name warningly. Of course, you defended with. “We were reading Jane Eyre! If I was reading this,” you held up your book. “I would’ve asked if she ever rejected a man before. I already know the answer, but still.”

“You know the answer?” Mary laughed.

“You probably had to beat them off of you back in the day, you were so pretty.”

“Were?”

“Fine wine, miss Lamb.” You hung upside down, tossing your feet over the back of the couch. “You age like fine wine.”

 “Stop that.” She scoffed lovingly, then asked your father, almost as if it was a joke. “What about you?”

You looked at him. “Oh, I sure hope he’s been in love.”

“Well,” he said your name. “you know, it was purely for economic reasons at first, but then-.” The pillow you threw at him caused him to chuckle before continuing. “Yes, Josephine March, I was greatly enamored by your mother.”

“What was your favorite thing about her?”

“Everything.”

“Oh, come off it.” You rolled your eyes.

“Well then, if you’re going to be like that, then it’s her laugh.”

You sat up. “That’s such a basic fucking-!”

“-Hey!” Both him and Mary started.

In the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Angus smile for just a second. Your father continued. “I’ll tell you why her laugh was my favorite; it’s because she barely did.”

When you thought of it…she really only laughed around you. Were you that funny or did she just love you that much? Either way, you were more than happy about it. Your father continued.

“She announced in front of an entire class that she would more than likely laugh while being stuck in a brazen bull, then listening to my jokes. That was the first thing she said to me, and it’s still one of my favorite memories.”

Mary chimed in. “Not your wedding day?”

You and her shared a knowing look, trying not to burst out in laughter as your father just smoked his pipe, nodding. No time to unpack that.

“But you know, there’s more to falling in love than just with people.” He started soon to clear the air. “Imagine it, like a monk: forgoing sensual pleasures for the achievement of spiritual goals.”

“Spiritual goals, you?” Mary questioned. “What spiritual goals are we talking about? You go to church?”

“Only when required.”

“Exactly.” She mumbled. “Me having to save your daughter’s soul every Sunday since she was a kid.”

You only went because she’d take you and Curtis out to lunch every Sunday.

“When’s the last time you even left campus?” Mary asked him.

He almost looked offended. “I go into town all the time.”

“Oh!”

“For groceries, and errands, and various appointments.”

“Jane Bennett over here can’t drive and she gets out more than you.”

“Okay yes,” he sighed. “I don’t leave campus often. I don’t really feel the need.”

Mary nodded. “Let me ask you something. If you could go anywhere on earth, where would you go?”

“Well, we were supposed to go to Copenhagen…” nearly left your lips, but then your eyes caught Angus again, and looked away soon when his sight met yours.

“Oh,” your father grinned. “Greece, Italy, Egypt, Peru, Carthage, Tunisia now, of course. In college I started a monograph on Carthage. I’d like to finish that someday. A monograph is like a book only shorter.”

“I know what a monograph is.” Mary answered tiredly.

“Why not just write a book?”

That was the first thing you heard Angus say after hours of silence.

Your father shook his head. “I’m not sure I have an entire book in me.”

“You can’t even dream a whole dream, can you?” Mary asked.

If it were any other day, you would’ve laughed. But for some reason (that reason being you staring at Angus Tully), you didn’t. Still, once the two of you made eye-contact, you shot your gaze back to the TV, and then down to your book for the rest of the night.

What a strange person (he probably thought the same as you).

Your father agreed to let you sleep in the free room of the infirmary on account of the fact Teddy and Jason were gone. He made the joke too that you could “Finally sleep” as if you already hadn’t been sneaking out to get sleep. Still, even though you could no longer hear his snores, you found yourself more awake than ever that night.

When you were a child, you used to go on nightly excursions. Those being where you’d walk down the stairs of your old house and see everything in the dark; a familiar place becoming the unfamiliar and realizing just how taller everything was compared to you.

You cried the first time that you did it, and your mother rushed down to comfort you; your father, of course, slept like a rock. You still went on the little adventures though.

So…why not do it at Barton? Surely you were old enough you wouldn’t cry this time?

Tiptoeing through the halls and into your father’s room after throwing on your boots and jacket, you somehow managed to grab the keys and flashlight without him hearing you. Then you saw the bottle of whiskey by his bed; checks out.

As you were exiting through the hall, you passed by Angus’ room. You stopped in the doorway, contemplating. Would he be more pissed at you for waking him up, or for leaving him out? Well…only one way to find you.

In the same way you did on the first night, you shook him awake. He flinched a little when he saw you but wasn’t completely frazzled. “What?” He groaned, more so out of exhaustion than annoyance.

All you did was hold up the ring of keys to him.

That got him to sit up, and you managed to smile, tilting your head back to the door. It still astounds you to this down just how quickly you both could communicate without having to say a single word. He got on his coat and shoes, and the pair of you were soon off, traversing down the halls. Your first stop was the teacher’s lounge.

“I just want to check on Mary.” You explained.

“Why?”

“Because she checks up on us.”

And he didn’t argue; poor, tall child was just happy to have some freedom for the first time in almost a week. So, you both just quickly peered into the teacher’s lounge, and sure enough, she was sleeping on the couch with the TV on. You both tiptoed out of there and into the darkened hallway.

“Turn on the light.” He whispered to you.

“I’m trying.” You felt around for the switch, and then heard a ‘bump!’ in front of you followed by cursing.

“Shit!” Your heart jumped. “What did you do?!”

“Just turn on the light!”

You did, and you saw him hunched over, cradling his left elbow. You made a face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just maybe turn the flashlight on before going into a dark place?”

Oh, hell no, you weren’t taking that amount of sass. “Well maybe you should stop being so tall and stupid. Jesus wept, you make the ground shake every time you walk.”

He scoffed, though an etching of a smile played on his lips when he knocked on the wall beside you.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“She’s not going to wake up. It’s fine.”

“Still, I don’t wanna risk it.”

“Okay,” he shrugged his shoulders. “then could I have the light? Seeing that you can’t handle it?”

Oh, what a little shit. Rolling your eyes, you handed it to him, to which he immediately turned over his shoulder and started skipping down the hallway, making quite a lot of noise.

“Angus Tully, I swear to God!” You rushed after him.

He led you into the kitchen, but you led him to the freezer and the large tub of vanilla ice cream the cooks only used for ‘Special Occasions’. You grabbed spoons off the counter and ate from the tub for a few good minutes without saying a word to each other.

When you were finished, he asked. “Where else were you thinking of going?”

 “I’m not sure.” You then glanced over to one of the ‘Staff Only’ doors. “I got an idea.”

After using the keys to unlock it, the door led down into a dimly lit tunnel. You went down first, the cold hitting your skin and you zipped your jacket up. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Angus still up at the top.

“Well come on, you’re the one with the light.”

That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and he walked down the steps.

“How’d you know this was here?”

“That’s for me to know.”

And you just walked ahead of him.

He scoffed. “So, I don’t get to find out?”

“Nope.”

The tunnel was much longer than you initially thought it would be, but when you both got to the first door you’d seen, you were led into the sacristy of the chapel. Instantly, Agnus set down the flashlight and opened up the cabinet, taking out the chalice and jug of wine.

You snorted. “What a faithful altar boy you are.”

“Of course I am.” He responded, pouring the wine into the chalice and taking a huge gulp of it. “Want some?”

You tensed at first but responded quick enough. “Sure.”

He poured the wine into the chalice and took a small sip. It wasn’t as bad as when you first tried it; in fact, it was pretty good. You finished most of it after bringing it to your lips again.

“You’ve never had it before, haven’t you?” He grinned like the little shit he was (still is).

Shaking your head, you handed it back to him. “Just not in a while.”

You both got quickly bored in the sacristy after Angus had another drink of wine and went back through the door into the tunnel.

“Do you think someone died down here?” You questioned.

“If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a shitty job at it.” He answered.

“That sounds like something someone who’s terrified of ghosts would say.”

Sooner than you thought you would, and after a solid minute of you two going back and forth about the existence of ghosts, you found another door, which led you up into the auditorium. You’d only been there once for Curtis’ graduation the year prior, and you hadn’t step foot in there since then. Angus immediately went to the piano, sitting down at it and looking out to the sea of seats. You approached him leaning against the grand piano. He brought out a pack of the cigarettes you’d gotten him and a lighter.

“Mind if I have one?” You asked.

He nodded, placing a cigarette between his lips and then handing you one. He lit it for you, and you brought it up to your mouth. Somehow, you hadn’t coughed, and you were proud of yourself; you let your curiosity get the best of you, but it hadn’t killed you yet. Angus pressed a few keys on the piano, and you chuckled.

“You play?” You questioned.

“Not since I was ten. You know how?”

“Nope; all I know is Roman history and how to annoy men, apparently.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Can I ask you a question after you do?”

“Sure.”

“Go ahead.”

He takes a puff from his cigarette before asking. “Why the book names?”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “It’s just always been a thing my mom did; they all mean different things. Countess Natalya when I’m being overdramatic, Jo March for my dad, Jane Bennett for Mary, Emma Woodhouse when I’m being stubborn, things like that.”

“Should I call you something then?” He teased.

“I’d prefer just my name from you, thank you very much.” You played along back, walking around the piano and plopping yourself down on the wooden floor. He soon sank down to be at your level, finding it awkward to sit above you. “Okay, my question.”

He nodded. “Shoot.”

“Why did you and Teddy get into a fight at the beginning of break?”

Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “Asshole stole my family picture and I knew it but he kept denying it; might’ve said some shitty things to him, but it’s not like they weren’t true.”

“What’d you say?”

“That he was a sociopath, and his family didn’t want him around.”

You almost choked on your cigarette but laughed. “Damn, that’s brutal.”

“Smith had to pull us apart, it was apparently that bad.”

Scoffing, you said. “You and him had to hold Teddy back after I punched him.”

“Asshole.” He muttered.

“Asshole.” You repeated.

Silence passed by the both of you for the hundredth time that day, and that was when you spoke up.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a jerk these last few days.” He arched his brow, and you just went on. “To be honest, you have been too, but I’ve been a bigger one; especially today. I wanted to say something before but…I didn’t want to be more of a bitch than I already was.”

He shook his head. “You’re not; I was kind of a dick when I first met you.”

“Kind of?”

“Okay, a lot.” He admitted. “It was honestly stupid luck I got that question when you first showed up at Barton, and I got carried away with bragging.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” You repeated his words from a few days ago. “You’re actually the smartest out of all of them.”

“Really?”

“Not even close to me, but still.” You held out your hand. “Friends of some sort?”

He shook it. “Friends of some sort.”

You both pulled away, and after taking another drag of your cigarette you said. “I actually don’t know jack shit about you.”

“That a fact?”

“Yeah, and since we’re going to be stuck here for a while, I think that should change. How about this?” you scooted closer to him. “We ask each other questions. Simple at first, but more and more, we go a little deeper. How does that sound?”

He huffed. “Sounds like a regular conversation.”

“We get to refuse to answer one question.” You added. “Everything else after is free game. Sound more exciting?”

Angus nodded. “Alright, what’s your favorite color?”

“Pass.”

“Are you serious?”

“Fuck no.” You laughed, giving him your favorite color then asking him. “Favorite book?”

He responded much faster than you thought he would. “Catch-22.”

“Ah, a man of culture. Thank God, I thought I’d have to stop talking to you.”

Angus shook his head, chuckling. “If you could be an animal, what would you be?”

Ah…a bit of a stranger one, but you like that. You thought more on it, then gave him your answer. He nodded.

“Yeah, seems like you’d be one.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” You answered in a dead pan, and broke character the second you saw his face fall. “Just messing with you. Favorite childhood memory?”

He paused at that but didn’t show any sign of discomfort. Hesitance, yes, but he was taking more time thinking about your (frankly bizarre) question. Then, he answered.

“My dad took me on a fishing trip when I was twelve. Just for the weekend out in the woods with a small cabin. Talked to me about what it meant to be a man, telling me what he was like as a kid…I don’t even like fishing.”

The short story, even though it wasn’t yours, brought a nostalgic smile to your face for a moment. “I tried fishing once; not really my thing either.”

“Mr. Hunham took you fishing?” The look on his face made you laugh.

“Oh god no.” You shook your head. “Curtis did.”

Angus blinked upon the name. “Mary’s kid?”

“You’ve already asked a question.”

“What?”

“I just asked you what your favorite memory was as a kid, you asked me if my dad took me fishing. It’s my question now. Technically, I can ask two in a row because you just asked me what I meant.” It was your turn to have the shit-eating grin.

“I…” He tried not to laugh, unable to believe it. “So, our friendship is basically transactional?”

“Huh?”

“You’re having us say that if one of us asks two questions in a row, even if one isn’t really about getting to know the other-.”

“-It was about getting to know me; you asked if my dad took me fishing.”

“That’s a transactional relationship, not really a conversation.”

“Are you trying to explain to me what a conversation is, Tully?” You furrowed your brow, stomping out your cigarette. “Do you really believe women are that stupid?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, considering how you just asked three questions in a row.”

Never in your life (at least recently) had something thrown you off balance so drastically. You counted on your fingers, jogging your memory, and yes, you indeed answered three questions: freeing him from yours. You both made eye contact, and with the same, unspoken language, you both laughed. It took you a bit longer to recover, to which you then asked.

“Okay, and you can ask me two questions, do you genuinely think women are stupid?”

Angus shook his head, his cigarette on its last leg. “Everyone’s stupid in their own special way.”

“How poetic of you.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

“Shut up and ask me a stupid question because you’re so stupid.”

He threw the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before turning to you. “Craziest thing that happened to you?”

Your face dropped for a moment at the question, before it soon morphed into a nervous smile. “It’s what made my dad start homeschooling me.”

Angus raised his brows. “If it’s not a fun memory than-.”

“-No it’s alright.”

“If anything,” you thought to yourself. “it’ll make me see who you really are.”

You set the scene. “You’ve been in eighth grade, right?”

“I though you said I could ask two questions-?”

“-For fuck’s sake, Tully.”

“Yes,” he grinned. “I’ve been in eighth grade, surprisingly.”

“Well, you probably remember how much we thought we were hot shit at that age, right?” You didn’t give him time to respond. “My friend Elise is Miss Crane’s niece, Miss Crane the secretary.”

“Yeah, I know who she is.”

“Elise only comes to live with her during winter and summer breaks. I met her when we were like twelve, and we were immediately inseparable. Summer of eighth grade going into high school, she takes this theatre summer camp hosted by some kids at Ridgeway.”

Angus scoffed. “That fucking shithole? My roommate had some of his friends over who went there; assholes.”

“Oh, that’s not the half of it.” You rolled your eyes. “So, one of the counsellors, I don’t know I think her name was like…Gloria, or something, really liked her, and invited her to a party she and the other theatre kids were having. She told Elise that she could bring anyone that she wanted. Elise thought that other campers were being invited, so she asked me because…okay shoot me, I liked theater growing up. Now Elise wasn’t going to Ridgeway for high school, but I was, so she thought it’d be great for me to meet the people. That’s what she told my dad and her aunt; that it was a part of the camp. God, we spent hours getting ready, I look at pictures that Miss Crane took of us, and we didn’t even look that good,”

You and Angus paused to relish your chuckling before continuing. “but what mattered was that we were excited. Miss Crane drove us to the house at seven, said she’d pick us up by ten, and then left. The only people there were us, Gloria, and two of the other counselors; one being her boyfriend, Bobby fucking Nolan. So, it was awkward for the first hour because, of course Gloria wasn’t supposed to invite two eighth graders, but it’s fine because she said ‘Elise is cool, so her friend’s probably cool’. I wanted us to call someone to take us home because there was a misunderstanding, hell, the counsellor that wasn’t Gloria’s boyfriend even offered to, but Elise said she wanted to stay. I wasn’t leaving her behind, so I stayed too. It actually got fun after that. It was more than obvious I was uncomfortable, so they asked me to pick a board game for us to play when waiting for other people, and I picked Clue. It went on for a while, and people started showing up, so it was really just me, Bobby fucking Nolan, and another random kid playing with us because the others, including Elise, left. Bobby said that I was purposefully hiding my cards because he assumed some things weren’t adding up. He did this the whole game, and he’d try to be teasing, but he always sounded like he was accusing me of murder. Which, okay, a part of the game but you know what I mean. I got fed up with it, so I told him a bit more aggressively that I wasn’t lying. This asshole reaches over and squeezes me here.”

Scooting closer to Angus where your face was just a foot away from his, you pointed to the base of your neck where your clavicle is. “So I freak out of course, and he just started laughing, saying he found out that’s a ticklish spot for everyone. My stomach started feeling weird, and I…a year before that, my dad told me that if I ever started feeling sick out of nowhere, whether it was because of a person or situation, than I’d leave. Doesn’t matter what, I’d just go. So, I say I have to go to the bathroom, get Elise, she sees that I’m starting to freak out, and we try to find Gloria, her friend, or just anyone who’d want to take us home. Bobby finds us instead, he’s lit, and he won’t let us out of his sight. He was joking at first, and I’m fucking terrified at this point, so Elise has to tell him we’re going home. He’s getting pushy now, and it takes him calling her a ‘bitch’ for people to notice. So, thank God, some of the others pull him away to calm him down because he looked like he’d start swinging, and one of the girls took pity on us and drove us to Elise’s house because we were supposed to have a sleepover. I was crying at this point, so I begged Miss Crane to call Mary, not my dad, she picked me up, I told her everything, she brought me home, told my dad, and the next day I told him everything I told Mary. He said I did the right thing in leaving and was pissed at the school. So, he called them, got most of the kids there in trouble; all except Bobby fucking Nolan. Because Bobby Nolan’s mom was screwing the principal, and technically besides underage drinking and minor harassment, he didn’t do anything wrong in the school’s eyes; so, he just got a few days’ worth of detention, but even then, that was probably wiped from his records…He was a freshman going into sophomore year, so if I went to Ridgeway, I’d be stuck with him for three years…everything else checks out.”

The silence was deafening. Angus had a face you had never seen on him before. “I…shit, that’s fucked up.”

Just like with everything else you did when things became too serious (because it was only then you realized that you just told him something that was somewhat traumatic and not funny), you made it funny.

“Oh fuck, you asked me about the craziest thing that happened to me. Sorry, I forgot to say that I was like a little tipsy throughout all of that.”

“What?!”

No one ever said you landed the punchline all the time. Still, you tried.

“Now I know that sounds bad-.”

“-It is bad. You were like what, fourteen?”

“…Thirteen.”

“Oh my god.” He groaned.

“How old were you when you first drank?”

“Sixteen.”

“That’s like three years.”

“It’s about maturity.”

“Oh,” you snickered. “and you have a lot of that?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, maybe I do."

Rolling your eyes, you said. “Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Ask your other question. No, that one doesn’t count, I’m actually tired of the rules I set up.”

He was still, understandably, thrown off about all that you told him. Still, he went. “How’d you know about the tunnels?”

“Curtis Lamb. We were friends for a while, and he told me he and some other kids would explore them. Mary never found out somehow.”

“Why’d you stop being friends?”

You shrugged. “We didn’t, he just died. Did your mom and dad get a divorce or…?”

You were always a hardball when it came to being blunt.

Angus tensed. “Pass.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask about the letter?”

Oh…oh…

Well…what a spot you put yourself in…

“Pass.” You said without hesitation. Had he said that to get back at you for asking a stupid question or did he actually want to know?

Still, he respected it. “Your turn.”

And you decided to be slightly less bold, but not back down completely. “Have you been kicked out of school before?”

To your surprise, he wasn’t angry when you asked. A bit smug even. “Oh, who told you?”

“Alex.”

“Figures. Yeah, three.”

“Why?”

“‘Unruly behavior, instigating fights, stealing school property.’” He rolled his eyes. “If I get kicked out of this one, it’s off to military school.”

You nodded. “So maybe don’t then.”

“Seems like a plan.”

“When did your mom marry your stepfather?”

“Just last summer; that’s why they’re taking their honeymoon now. She’d only been with him for six months.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “Just lonely I guess.”

You furrowed your brow. “She had you.”

He didn’t say anything, he stopped looking at you too. Well, new tactic now.

“What you did was nice a few nights ago.” Like Pavlov’s dog, he looked up at you. “Helping Ye-Joon out.”

His eyes drifted. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything to him and it meant something to me. It meant that you’re not a complete asshole you try to be, and I don’t know why you try to be one, but you’re not.” You saw right through him, and you both knew it. Still, to save face a little while longer, you added. “I’m sorry too about saying you didn’t have friends.”

“It’s fine-.”

“-No, it’s not, because I felt like shit as soon as I said it, and it’s a shitty thing to say to anyone.”

He stared at you the same way he did when you gave him toothpaste, and it unnerved you even more. Had anyone ever apologized to him?

“Thanks.” Was his reply, and the two of you stopped asking questions. You both sat in the auditorium for perhaps a small moment’s silence when he said. “I uh…we should probably get back.”

You nodded, getting up. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you tried to make it seem like you’d never been there and made your way back down into the tunnel. The walk seemed much longer than it had previously, the two of you not seeming to have anything to say until Angus went-.

“I threw out the skin mag.”

Well…the actual last thing you thought you would hear from him that night.

You stopped in your tracks. “Huh?”

He didn’t look at you as he confessed. “I stole Kountze’s cigarettes to trade for it and practically waved it in his face the first few days. I know it’s none of my business, but after he read the letter…I just felt bad about it.”

What on God’s green earth were you supposed to say? Apparently, after a few moments of stunned silence, you knew.

“…Thanks? On behalf of all women, I guess?” He nodded, still not looking at you, which only added to your anxiety. “We’re good, right? Still friends of some sort?”

“Yeah.” He finally met your eyes.

You nodded. “Nice.”

And you walked ahead of him as if trying to outrun the light. You both tiptoed through the halls, setting the keys and flashlight back in your father’s room in the infirmary, and went into your own separate rooms.

As you laid down to sleep, the strangeness of the whole evening played in your mind. You had been so vulnerable with him, and he hadn’t thrown it back and spat it in your face; he let you talk about it for so long.

He didn’t blame you for what happened.

You never told anyone about that besides the people involved…

But he didn’t do the same. Yes, your friendship (of some sort) didn’t have to be where each of you dumped a lot of baggage on each other…but you still felt odd doing so.

You felt something in your stomach the more you thought about the whole night; being alone together and exploring the school as if you were both main characters in a novel, telling secrets in the dark…

You didn’t feel sick though; at least, not like when a boy touched you for the first time.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

It’s Sunday! How’d that happen again so soon?

Here’s a little more from my Time Travel WIP, Back and Back and Back. Keeping the name, since I got a lot of positive feedback on it. As a reminder, this story features an older Simon who travels back in time and visits with a young Baz throughout his childhood. At some point, I might start worrying about sharing all the good bits on Tumblr before I’ve actually started posting this thing. Then again, I always love seeing tons of snippets in advance as a reader. Gets me hyped for when the thing finally gets published. So here you go!

“So,” he says, folding his legs in and scooting around to sit cross legged to face me. “Catch me up. What’s been going on lately?”

“Well, I’ve been taking tennis lessons at the club this summer. And Father gave me a violin for my eleventh birthday,” I remind him. “So I’ve been taking lessons for that, too. I’ve only been playing for six months but I quite like it.”

“Wait,” he puts his hands up. “You’re eleven now?”

I nod.

“So you’re starting at Watford soon?”

“I leave tomorrow,” I say quietly, pulling my knees up and hugging them to my chest.

It’s how I knew he’d come. He always comes when something important is happening. I prepared the [redacted] three days ago, and have been out here everyday, waiting.

He starts to smile, though it falters a bit. He forces it back in place, though it looks strained.

“That’s great, Baz.”

I feel the corners of my mouth tweak up. I’ve gotten quite used to his nickname for me over the years. I think I might even start using it with other people, when I get to school.

I’m loving writing these past bits. I’ve yet to find the rhythm of the parts in the present, though. Setting things up and having to wait for the conflict or character connections is always the least fun part of writing though. At least for me. Hopefully, I’ll hit my stride soon. Wish me luck!

Tags, tag backs, etc. I’m still working my way through posts from this last week, but I continue to love seeing all you guys are sharing! @whatevertheweather @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @emeryhall @whogaveyoupermission @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch @ivelovedhimthroughworse @aristocratic-otter @hushed-chorus @roomwithanopenfire @monbons @noblecorgi @forabeatofadrum @that-disabled-princess @youarenevertooold @prettygoododds @ileadacharmedlife @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ic3-que3n @wellbelesbian @run-for-chamo-miles @rimeswithpurple @best--dress @mooncello @blackberrysummerblog @iamamythologicalcreature @valeffelees @orange-peony @angelsfalling16 @raenestee and anyone else who’d like to share!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Promised Land

Elks Chapter 7

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Joel takes you out of Jackson for the first time in five years, he makes it well worth it. Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex in the wilderness, apocalypse birth control, there are two scenes I constantly think about (one with Joel's hair and the leaves and one with a drop water... enjoy), reader is an anxious girl, discussion of grief and child loss, softness softness softness. Words: 3,600 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up.

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Masterlist Playlist

*** “With Arms Outstretched” by Rilo Kiley. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel’s deep voice whispers against your ear. “You gotta get up."

“Mmf,” you groan, bringing your comforter up higher to cover your head, “it’s early.”

“I know,” he lowers the blanket, “but we need to get going, we’re fighting against the daylight.”

“You sure I have to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure, it’ll be worth it, trust me.”

“Ugh,” you sit up and yawn, “if you say so.” 

——

Your lungs inhale your first breath of air from outside the safety of Jackson’s gates since your arrival five years ago. Why did you ever agree to let Joel convince you to do this? You love your stereo, but is it worth the anxiety you’re currently feeling? You don’t even know where he’s taking you. A surprise? Really? Your life has become very comfortable and predictable within the safe walls of Jackson, you like that. How in the world is this going to be worth leaving?

“You’re okay, I’m here with you. You’re being so brave sweetheart,” Joel’s reassurance gruffly whispered in your ear as his strong arms hold the reins of his horse framing you. The only comfort of today is feeling his big body pressed up against you acting as a makeshift security blanket. 

You admit, you forgot how different and vastly open the outside world is. Serenity everywhere stretching well past your eyesight, your anxious thoughts of the hazards that lay beyond marring the sights you haven’t seen in so long. Tall clumps of grass, even taller trees, beautiful yellow and purple flowers smattered throughout the forest floor. You only imagined this type of beauty in your sketchbook, now it’s all laid out in front of you. 

“It’s so gorgeous out here. Everything is so green.”

“Sure is. Wait until you see the flowers on the hillside.”

“How far are we going?” 

“Down this road a bit and down another trail, was just here this week on patrol and made sure to check everything out. No signs of anything, haven’t seen anyone or any infected around here in months. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

He’s so patient. You need to be brave for him. So, you muster up enough courage and remind yourself you have the most capable man who loves you and wants nothing but the best for you. 

“I forgot how tall trees can get, is that stupid to say?”

“Not at all, you haven’t been out here in a long time. Today is going to be fun, something I’m excited for you to do, going to get you used to being outside.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought. I’m still terrified but at least I have you.” “You’ll always have me,” he says barely above a whisper.

You smile and lean your head against his chest, hearing Joel’s breaths huff out in sync with his horse’s canter.

——

“Almost there,” Joel’s voice takes you out of your daze. 

You enjoy the peaceful scenery as you turn down a trail, looking out beyond the forest you spot a large body of water past the tree line.

“Is that a la—lake?” You croak out, your voice squeaking with excitement.

“Sure is. Perfect for swimming,” he kisses the edge of your cheek. “Taught Ellie to swim here just last month.”

“Oh my god. Really? I can swim?”

“You can. We have the whole day. Brought everything we’ll need.”

“A swimsuit?” 

“Well, no. You can swim in your underwear… or nothin’.”

“I can swim in my underwear.”

Joel brings his horse to a stop at the shore, dropping the reigns and wrapping his arms around you.

“You like it sweetheart?”

“So much Joel, it’s so beautiful.”

“Good,” he kisses your cheek, “I’m glad.”

The lake is gorgeous. Serene dark blue water gently lapping at the shore, water reflecting all of the sunlight shining down from the sky. Trees rock in the gentle breeze against the blue sky. 

Joel helps you down from his horse, your feet hit the ground of the outside world for the first time in years, your worry increasing with each step you take towards the water. 

“What happens if someone sees us?” You hate that you can’t allow yourself to enjoy this beautiful moment that Joel has created for you.

“We’re okay here, I have a gun and we haven’t spotted anyone over here in a long time,” Joel says as he hitches his horse to a tree. “I’ve been in the lake a few times now, Tommy and Maria come here all the time. We’ll be alright.”

“I’m sorry I get like this, I do really love it Joel. Thank you.”

“I know darlin’, I know this is a lot for you, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m proud of you for doing this.” 

“I know you won’t," you look towards the water, you’ve missed it so much. “I love you so much,” you breathe out before inhaling the sweet scent of the pine forest, fresh water, and wet dirt. 

“Love you too,” he walks over, backpack slung over his shoulder.

He looks so confident, so sure of himself. You love that about him. This is his domain, what he knows best… the outside. He is a protector of Jackson, and most of all he is your protector.  

He pulls two towels out of his bag and lays them on a large boulder to warm in the sun.

“You want to get in? Can’t wait to see your hair and skin all wet and shiny.”

“Please,” you smile. The anticipation sends a happy chill through your body.

You look over at Joel as he sheds his jacket. Your eyes stare as you watch him, his head down focusing on unbuttoning his denim shirt. He looks up with an eyebrow crooked at your attention as he takes it off. Lord, he’s so golden in this the sunlight, his skin practically glowing from the rays bouncing off the water. Broad chest you love to lay your head against, strong arms you love to have wrapped around you, soft belly that juts a little over his jeans meaning he’s fed and healthy. He takes your breath away.

“Go ahead ’n get undressed,” he directs as you stare mouth agape at him, “can’t be swimmin’ in those pants.”

You quickly shuck your shirt and begin to maneuver your jeans down your body when you find Joel standing frozen in place watching you with his hand paused on the button of his jeans.

“You can’t be swimming in those pants, Joel,” you tease. 

He smirks, as he deftly unbuttons and unzips his jeans removing his pants and throwing them on the boulder. His eyes darken as he walks towards you, standing in front of you as you take your jeans off, stretching out his hand for you to help balance yourself. 

“Have I told you before how beautiful you are? You look so good in this,” Joel rubs his finger along your bra strap, “this pretty purple against your skin, it’d be a shame if I had to take it off.”

“It’s not coming off Joel,” you slap his hand away.

“Not yet… come on baby.”

He takes your hand and begins to lead you into the lake, a smile growing across your face as you get closer and feel the sensation of the water touch your feet. He keeps your hand held as you both walk in, the gentle waves beginning to ebb and flow against your bodies. You welcome the chill as you venture deeper into the lake. He lets go of your hand as you begin to tread water. You feel downright giddy as you feel weightless in it. Your body fully submerged save for your neck and head, you turn to smile at Joel, treading water a few feet behind you.

“How’s it?” He asks, wide smile on his face. 

“I’m so happy!” You shout as you spin in the water and finally dunk your head underneath the surface.

You haven’t been submerged like this in over twenty years. You’ve always loved this feeling, you feel so free and yet so protected by the lake surrounding you. You swim underneath the surface closer to Joel popping up right in front of him. “I’m so glad, look so happy and beautiful, I love it,” Joel grabs your hands and pulls you against his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, his large hands splay across your back, pulling you in tight against him. The two of you gently float together adrift in the water.

You wish you could record the sounds you’re hearing right now. Joel’s soft breathing against your ear, the chirps of birds in the distance, the sound of the water lapping in the warm summer breeze. It’s a soundtrack you’ve only thought was possible in dreams. 

He’s so beautiful in the water. His skin glowing underneath the thin sheen of liquid, all of the wrinkles of his face and dips of his body shining brighter. His freckles on his chest are more bronzed, twinkling like golden stars smattered on the sky that is his chest. You tuck your head down and kiss the largest freckle in the middle of his chest, your lips wet from the water. Another kiss to another freckle. His soft groan reverberating in the middle of the lake, his hands grip against your back harder when you trace your tongue from one freckle to another. You kiss your way up his neck, dipping your tongue into the deep expanse of the hollow of his throat. You kiss his chin, feeling the scruff of his beard scratch against your lips before they’re soothed by the softness of his pillowy lips. 

“Thank you for this. I can’t say it enough, this is perfect. I love you,” you whisper against his cheek. Your gratitude and devotion to him needing to be added to the orchestra of sounds the two of you hear. 

“So glad you let me do this for you," Joel says, his deep voice making the drops of water on his chest vibrate against your cheek.

Your bodies drift together and apart moving in rhythm with the waves, your legs around his hips becoming your anchor to his body. You think to yourself this might be your promised land. 

——

You leave the lake, both of your bodies soaked and and satiated from your time in the water. Joel brings you a towel and wraps it around your shoulders. 

“Should probably let ourselves dry a little before lunch,” Joel says as he grabs his jacket off the boulder and lays it on the ground. 

“Forgot how cold it gets after swimming,” you chitter out while you rub your folded arms up and down.

“Here, sit with me, I’ll warm you up,” Joel offers as he sits down on his jacket. 

He looks like a dream, laid out in the sunlight, extending his arms behind him and leaning back. He hums as he takes in a deep breath, you watch as his belly inflates and deflates, moving down his small smattering of hair leading down to where you can see how the water has made his underwear sheer, you can make out the shape of him, his golden skin peeking through the white cloth, his long and muscular legs covered in hair stretched out in front of him. 

Maybe it is worth it to leave Jackson once in awhile if you get to see this sight. He’s so manly and beautiful.  He’s so sweet and so thoughtful. He did all of this for you, you want to prove to him exactly how happy he’s made you.

You stand over Joel, your legs straddling his legs, as he looks up at you. 

“Thank you for today Joel, I can’t tell you happy this has made me.” 

“Always, sweethea—“ Joel’s words interrupted by his shock of your actions as you reach behind you and take your bra off. “What are you doing?”

“Making you as happy as you’ve made me.” You drop your bra on the ground next to him.

“Can’t argue with that. Shame, you looked too pretty in that light purple bra, but I like this more.” 

“Get me naked Joel,” you whisper down at him.

Joel stops lounging and sits up, grabbing your waistband and slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. His breath beginning to audibly quicken as your cunt is exposed to him. He runs his hands back up your legs grabs your ass and pushes you even closer to him, your feet shuffling on the ground before his mouth meets your wet slit. You grab his hair, curlier than usual from the water and gently tug his face up. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing, today is about you, so proud of you,” he kisses your hip and stares into your eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this. First I’m going to eat your pussy while you stand like this then I’m gonna fuck you all pretty and naked in the forest.”

Joel’s attention turns back to your cunt beginning to taste your slick, his tongue flattening against you as he licks his way up and down from your hole to your clit. He devours your pussy, his contented hums vibrating against your sensitive flesh. You feel your muscles clenching as your orgasm quickly begins to crescendo getting off on the fact that you’re stood in the middle of the wilderness with Joel’s tongue all over you. 

“Gonna cum,” ghosts out of your lips through moans and whimpers. You bite your lip to stop from screaming as he begins to suck at your clit, he knows it makes your knees weak, he braces his hands around your thighs giving you a safety net to fall into. He’s so good to you, he’s so good to your body. Your climax begins to roll through you, Joel groaning as you come all over his tongue. You can hardly stand, shaky kneed and huffing for air, Joel’s tight hold is the only thing making you not crumple to the forest floor.

“Come here sweetheart,” Joel gently helps you down to sit on his lap. “You did so good, you came so good for me,” he smashes his lips against yours, his mouth wet with your juices and his saliva. You need him inside you now. You wrap your legs around his torso mimicking the way you held onto him in the water while your hand travels down between the two of you pulling his hard cock out of his underwear, moving it against your entrance. 

“Thank you for today,” you say as you lift yourself forward and slowly sit down on his length. Joel lets out a hiss as you sink onto him, your hips grinding into him as your pussy accepts all of him. 

“So fucking tight and wet for me, he leans into your neck and licks a long line up your it to your chin and into your mouth. His tongue and your tongue lapping at each other mirroring the waves of the lake. “Want to take over, want to fuck you against the ground.” 

He flips you down without pulling out, your back thudding against the soft fabric of his jacket. His body looms over yours as he begins to move in and out of you.

You look up, past his eyes that are watching you with adoration wanting to see the blue sky as he grounds you into the earth. Your breath catches in your throat as the sunlight shines down through his wet curls blending in with the leaves rustling in the treetops of the forest. Graying curls mixed with deep greens of the lush foliage. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you chant out, your words of worship matching his pace echoing off the trees reverberating through the woods.

Joel slopes his head lower to kiss you before he cranes his neck down to watch himself move in and out of you, beginning to fuck you faster, his tempo turning merciless. The curls of his hair hang down and bounce against his forehead, you’re mesmerized by the movement, noticing a drip of water falling down off of the longest curl. Could be sweat, could be leftover water from your swim, you don’t care, you want to taste it. You lift your head up, open your mouth, and let the drop land on your tongue. You love to taste Joel no matter how or what, he always tastes so good. His skin, his spit, his cum, his sweat, this little droplet of water. He doesn’t know what you just did, too enamored by watching his cock disappear inside you, it’s your little secret, your little taste of Joel, just for yourself. 

“Fucking perfect baby, love to watch me fuck you, always so soft and ready for me,” he turns his attention back to you watching you as you slack out as much of a smile as you can, too blissed out to be able to tell him how good he feels. He returns your smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling, he’s so gorgeous all the time, but today, today might just be the most beautiful he’s ever been. You feel your second orgasm begin to burn inside of you, your pussy beginning to clench around Joel.

“Clo—clo—close,” you whimper out.

“I know, I know baby, me too, me too, cum on my cock so I can cum. Need to feel you.”

Joel’s encouragement sends you over the edge, your body tightening as you gasp Joel’s name over and over while your pussy floods his cock.

Joel pulls out right as his body begins to quake. “So good, so good, so good,” he repeats against your neck as he covers your thighs and overworked cunt in his spend. He drops down covering your body with his, a long contented sigh escaping his lips.

“You’re right, this was worth everything, thank you for making me step out of the gates.”

“Course sweetheart, you’re braver and stronger than you know.”

This could be your promised land. 

——

“You know, I think I could do that again, I really loved today,” you yawn as you settle into your bed next to Joel, your hair still wet from the shower, your eyes growing heavier as you pull your blanket higher.

“I’m so proud of you for today baby,” Joel’s words whispered against the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. 

You yawn, exhausted from your big day out and the hours of swimming. 

Your cat Ripley jumps on the bed surprising you. 

“Oh crap, the cats got out of their room,” you throw your blanket off preparing to grab her and put her back in your studio. 

“S’okay, as long as they’re not in my face, they can stay. Know they sleep with you when I’m not here, there’s cat hair everywhere and I’m okay.”

Ripley walks up the bed and settles in next to your chest, purring and kneading your blanket. 

“She good here? She’s the one that always wants my attention.”

“She is. She’s pretty, reminds me of a cat my neighbor used to have, Sarah used to think she looked like the sky, all the speckles were stars.” Your hand pauses on Ripley at the mention of his daughter’s name. “She would beg me for a pet every year for her birthday, for Christmas, Easter, any holiday she could try to get a present out of. I could never do it for her, always had to give her the same excuses… too busy, too expensive, too much time needed. She would have loved your cats. She would have loved your house… I think she would have loved you.”

Tears well in your eyes as he whispers out the last sentence, his voice low and sad. You never ask, never prod, never feel like you’re allowed to know about his daughter. What he’s lost before far outweighing any loss you could imagine. What little you know is mainly from Tommy, but even then you never ask. You wish you knew her, if she was anything like her dad you would have loved her. You wonder about her all the time. Was her mouth as smart as her dad’s? Would her nose crinkle whenever she was’t happy about something? Would she shake her head back and forth while her hand rests against her chest whenever she laughed? 

“I know I would have loved her,” you turn to face him, your tears welling even more when you see how wet his eyes are. You put a hand to his face, brushing a tear from the edge of his eye. “You can talk about her with me at anytime, no matter how little you want to share. I love hearing about her.” 

“I know I can,” he smiles, another tear falling out of his eye that you wipe away. “Ellie falls into my hands, she makes me realize I was sick of feeling so alone and then I get her here and I see you ’n you’re like nobody I’ve ever met before. Ellie loves you and she wouldn’t shut up about you, I knew I had to know you and then you tumble into my life and once you were in it, I couldn’t let you go.”

You kiss him. “Never let me go,” you whisper against his lips.

“Never.”

Falling asleep against Joel’s chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, your cats cuddled next to you underneath your fluffy comforter in the home you’ve made your own, now made less lonely with Joel’s presence, this is your promised land. 

A/N: See you next week! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know.

Tag list: @orcasoul, @dvmbazzsworld, @glitterymanboy

[kythecorg]

I’ve been absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the amount of support I have received this past month! It’s meant the world that people seem to like my silly horse au.

As a way to say thank you and celebrate, I decided to make a #dtiyschallenge :3. It features my oc Solar Twist, but ya’ll can use ur own ocs or favorite ponies too! There is no deadline, but I will be posting participants to my story! Just tag #SolarTwistDTIYS so I can see them!!

Thank ya’ll! Now back to our regularly scheduled pony shenanigans >:)

[writingonleaves]

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman

pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character

warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread

inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift

word count: 5.6k

author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!

~*~*~

When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 

It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.

She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 

At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 

She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.

May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)

I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 

I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 

But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.

When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 

At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.

I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.

I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?

The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 

But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.

After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?

When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 

I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 

June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 

I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?

I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.

I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 

Yet we still hurt each other. 

This fucking hurts.

You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 

Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 

When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 

Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?

I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 

All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 

It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.

And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.

The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.

I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 

So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.

Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 

So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?

I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 

I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?

You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.

Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 

Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?

It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.

I fucking loved you.

I wish it ended differently.

July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)

I really really fucking miss you. 

I do. 

I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 

I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.

I miss having you as a friend. 

I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.

Do you get the urge to do the same?

July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)

It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 

Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 

The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 

In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.

I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.

Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 

October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)

It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 

Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?

But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 

Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 

Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 

But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 

I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 

But I did once.

You did too, right?

November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)

I hate Halloween. 

Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 

Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 

It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 

We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?

Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 

Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 

I looked for you in every crowd for years. 

That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 

I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 

It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.

I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 

But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 

I hate Halloween.

November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)

I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 

Or maybe not. 

I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 

Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.

June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)

Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 

I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.

I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 

I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 

I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 

But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 

I hope you're moving on. 

And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 

If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.

Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 

Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 

But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 

Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 

She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.

And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 

She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.

After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.

Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 

Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 

Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 

It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.

Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 

(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)

She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 

The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 

She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 

Jeremy walks into the book store. 

Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 

As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.

Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 

The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 

The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 

The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 

Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 

“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 

Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 

He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 

“I see you bought my book.”

“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”

“You’ve been watching?”

She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”

She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”

“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 

She swallows. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ve already read it, you know.”

“Read what?”

Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”

“Oh.” 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”

She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”

“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 

He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”

“Could I get a signed copy?”

“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”

He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”

“You’ve already done that.”

“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”

She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”

“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 

“We’re just going in circles now.”

“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”

“The point, is that I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”

He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”

“I do.”

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“What are you going to let me do?”

“I live in Brooklyn.”

“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”

She tries again. “It’s been five years.”

“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”

Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”

“I hurt you too.”

He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”

“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”

“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”

“Even after reading the book?”

“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”

“Try for what?”

“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”

“Why did you never text me?”

“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”

“The message?”

“You blocked me, right?”

Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”

He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”

“Who are you guys playing?”

“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”

She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.

to my first fan, 

i still love you too. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

yours, 

noelle

He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 

“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”

“Oh.”

“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”

His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.

[cypherthesuccubus]

Rekindle Our Spark~

Alastor x reader -Part 3- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!

Warnings: smut, 18+, predator/prey, murder, S&M, bondage, knife play, blood kink, marking, cock worship, pussy worship, body worship, dom/sub, breath play, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, breeding, creampie, rutting

Other tags: Fluff and Angst

Aftercare always!!!~✨

Part three is here, my darlings!!~ sorry for the wait, but good things always come to those who do, don’t they~ Please do enjoy yourselves~ 😈💕✨

(The song that plays during the dance)

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

I flip through the pages of my book I’m currently invested in. Nothing beats a good mystery novel every now and again. I recline back against the arm rest of the couch when I’m disturbed by a feminine voice “Hey (Y/N)! Vaggie and me are calling it a night, but I wanted to see how you were doing before I did.” I look to Miss Charlie; giving her a genuine smile “Oh I’m doing quite well! About to head to bed myself after I finish this chapter.” She smiles; just very happy to hear that I’m adjusting so well “Well if you need anything, just ask, ok?” I nod as she takes her leave upstairs; joining her girlfriend as they make their way down the hall. Ever since I’ve decided to become part of the Hazbin Hotel; thanks to a certain Radio demon; I’ve been feeling a lot more at ease then I was living in cannibal town. Yes the town is civilized of course, but still they ate human flesh like you would regular food. Which would put me on edge if one day I ended up on someone’s platter on account I made someone mad, or looked at them the wrong way. Could be my paranoia talking, but I honestly still would choose to move anyways; even if Alastor didn’t invite me to be a resident in the hotel. I still laugh about what transpired before he invited me here. He decides to give me a fright in the supply closet; thus jogging my memory of that night. I was thankful he let me go, but unfortunately I was still caught and brought back to meet my fate. I yelled out for him when I did get caught by one of the men, but it was too late. His corpse laid on the ground; soaking in his own blood from the shot wound.

I did manage to escape once they brought me back to their hideout. One of the men didn’t register that I was unbound and left me unsupervised in the lobby. I’d say luck was on my side after all. I had to go into witness protection after that and move to a different city under a new name. It worked for a while, until they found me. Unfortunately they weren’t interested in me anymore; they wanted me dead more than anything after escaping them. I went the same way he did; very petty if you ask me. So I’ve been down here for like what? 70 years now? Yeah, it’s been a shit show to say the least, but things got better since becoming Rosie’s assistants. She was very nice to me; quickly giving me a job that I didn’t think I would get, since every other place wasn’t hiring or didn’t accept me. Now I had a new place to live at along with possible redemption; things were finally looking up. I close my book; putting it back on the shelf as I make my way up the stairs. Slowly walking down the hall, I hear faint music coming from the door near the end of the hall way. I think it was coming from Alastor’s room. I only seen it once from the tour Charlie gave me a month prior to moving into the hotel. Most of Alastor’s stuff was off limits to everyone, but I was finding very difficult to not investigate the music coming from his room. The music would play more clearly the closer I got to the door. It sounded so familiar like a blast from the past; drawing me in by nostalgia.

Before I could knock on the door, it opened on its own as if it knew I would be here. I slowly poke my head in; looking around to see if Alastor was in here. I catch a glance over to a large red velvet chair; sitting in front of the fireplace where I see a pair of familiar black and red shoes. His legs crossed over as he hums along to the tune, whilst reading a book of his own. Before I could make my presence known, he turns his head towards the door; giving me a welcoming smile. “Ahh (Y/N)! What a pleasant surprise! Do what do I owe this lovely visit from you so late at night?” I chuckled nervously; trying to find my words. “Oh it’s just….I overheard some music and wanted to hear it better.” He closes his book as he gets up from the chair; making his way towards me. “Is that all you came here for, my dear? I was hoping we could catch up! Have a little chat and reminisce on the past.” He stops right in front of me; eyes glowing in the dim light while his smile never faltered. “Well…that does sound nice. Why not!” He offers his hand out; taking it hesitantly as he guides me to the part of his room where there was a literal forest like atmosphere there. The grass and trees look and felt so real. It was almost like being back on earth again. He leads me to a cute cafe like table with elegant chairs to match. Pulling out one, he gestured me to sit; gently pushing me in as he goes to sit across from me.

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

“I have so many questions, my dear! For instance, what happened after that night? Did you manage to escape thanks to my help, darling?” I snap my fingers; making a tea set appear on the table as I go to pour myself and her a cup. “Well I did eventually. They caught me a little bit after you let me go, and I saw what happened to you.” I felt my eye twitch; remembering how annoying it was to be taken out by a petty excuse of a criminal no less. “Luckily they weren’t too smart to realize you cut the ropes off when I escaped the second time.” I chuckle as I take a sip of the tea. “Lucky indeed! How did you manage to stay alive this long before now?” She takes a sip of her tea; placing back down as she lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t live that long. Witness protection did keep me alive for 20 years, until they found me…..they killed me the same way you died, which was really petty if you ask me.” I nod; taking another sip “They never really did have class, did they? How long have you been down here since then, my dear?” She pauses, placing her fist under her chin as she thinks “I’d say about rather…..70 years now?….yeah that sounds right.” 70 years? And I haven’t ran into her until now? Ironic how things work like this. We continue to reminisce about fond memories we’ve had. Even the moments we’ve had before that night.

My ears perk up during our charming conversation; hearing a song that reminded me of another night we shared due to celebratory reasons. Her family had hit an important milestone that night and wanted to throw a last minute gathering. I think that night we had our first conversation with each other; along with a first dance. I place my tea cup down; getting up from the chair as I stand in front of (Y/N). “Remember that night, my dear? Shall we recreate it?” I offer my hand to her; my smile widens as she timidly takes it. I lead her to the middle of the forest clearing; placing my left hand on her waist as I held her hand with my right. The song was slow; leading us into a waltz as she smiles at me. “Looks like you still know how to dance after all this time.” I chuckle; leading her to twirl in place. “Of course, my dear! Wouldn’t be gentlemen like of me if I didn’t.” She chuckles as we continue to dance a little further into the clearing of the trees. The song was nearing its end; sliding my arm around her waist as I pull her in closer. “You know, my dear, all this reliving the past has got me thinking….this setting we’re in….reminds me of another memory that was never….completed.” She looks at me; arching her brow as she tilts her head “What do you mean by that, Alastor?”

I spin her once more; pulling her close to me as I slowly dip her with a wide smile “If memory serves me right, my dear…..the night before I died…we made a little deal, didn’t we?~” She blushes at the realization; eyes widening as I can feel her heartbeat quicken “Y-yes we did, huh?” I chuckle; running my hand up her thigh as I lift it to rest at my hip; holding it there. “There’s one thing to know about me, darling….when I make a deal….” I run my free hand up the back of her neck; lowering her to lay on the forest floor as I pin her body down. I gently grab her chin; having her look deep into my eyes as she blushes once more. “I always come to collect~.” I lower myself down; capturing her lips with my own. I pry her mouth open just enough to slide my tongue against hers; tasting every inch of her in a feverish vigor. I run my hands up the length of her arms; pinning them by the wrists as I summon my ethereal chains to bound them. She breaks the kiss; completely out of breath as she spoke “W-what are you doing?” She wiggles against the chains; pushing me to hold the restraints down; grinning wildly “I going to take what’s mine, my dear~…..now…let’s continue where we left off all those years ago~.”

[oxygenpdf]

My current car has the sustainability of an Alpine, with the fixing job of a Sauber F1 pit crew.

In other words, I should get rid of it.

[seagull-scribbles]

All nighter before a deadline

[pollenallergie]

do people with adhd have special interests? do we do that? cause i’ve been in my free willy shark week marine biology era for a solid decade now and like shit has not changed.

[larry-hiatus]

.

[lambentplume]

yapping aimlessly tonight

[cantofworms]

.

[kaeyaphile]

all thoughts, head full of ✨aventurine✨

+ a bunch of rambling/life updates in the tags, oops

[xmcu-fietro]

So lately I’ve been struggling with some physical health issues and Peter Maximoff lives in my head 24/7 so naturally that got me thinking and tbh, Peter would be such a great friend to have if you aren’t feeling well. Too tired or depressed to get up and get something? He’s got superspeed and can get it in half a second. Feeling achy or lonely? Hugs! He runs warm because of his mutation so hugging him is kind of like having a weighted + heated blanket. Forgot to eat? He’s got a whole stash of snacks in his basement. Heck, he could potentially use his superspeed to do what a TENS unit does (vibration to help muscle tension/pain—although maybe not since TENS uses electrical currents, but still, possibly?). At the very least he’d be happy to be a distraction by discussing whatever show or band he’s hyperfixated on at the moment, and if you want to stay inside all day that’s cool too because he can play video games

[starbuck]

literally actually shouldn’t even be posting this, but like. y’all.

there’s a tiny itty bitty chance i might be getting promoted soon.