#and i based clouds body type off my moms

[robintherobiner]

This is an interactive story. The next part will be based on what you guys choose.

Warning, the story heavily revolves around dark topics, like suicide, abuse (all types), bullying, all that jazz. It's an au, HEAVILY canon divergent. So, idk proceed carefully

"If you're watching this, it means I'm dead."

Suddenly, Jason wished he'd never bought the sticker covered camera. He'd seen it in a charity shop, looking all lonely on it own little table. All the other camera were old, and had dents and scratches, but this one looked almost new and bursting with personality.

It had cost a lot, of course, and Jason had considered putting it back down. After all, he didn't need a camera. He was pretty sure Bruce had one at home anyways.

But then he'd seen a sticker, right under the shutter button, and he'd recognized his own costume. Whoever had owned this camera had liked Robin, his Robin, with curly hair and freckles instead of tanned skin and sparkly shorts. He had to buy it now, he thought, and so he did.

Jason pressed the play button again, and stared at the kid on the screen. He looked pale, and far too skinny for someone who, if his Bristol accent was anything to go off of, clearly had enough money to buy food.

"Sorry. I realize that was probably, like, a really big thing to say. Or, not big, I guess, it was only eight words. Tough? No.. Eh, whatever." The kid shrugged. "Point is, sorry. You picked up my camera though, so you have three options."

The whole situation is bizarre. He sort of assumed there would be pictures of nature, or videos of some cool tricks if the skateboard stickers are anything to go off of. Not a fucking death announcement.

Still, Jason is curious. Is the kid in danger, and thats why he thinks he's going to die? Or is he sad? Jason lived on the streets, he's not a stranger to people who's heads are clouded, people who think things will never get better. He's never felt that way personally, but he's known lots of people who ended up hurting themselves.

"First, you could just throw the camera away. A bit of a waste, since it's pretty good quality, but whatever. Second, you could delete everything on here and just use it yourself. I'd be okay with that. Photography is fun. Or, if you wanted, you could watch these videos."

Here, his cheeks flush, as though embarrassed. Its hard to hear, but Jason thinks he can hear the boy mutter something along the lines of what a dumb thing to say.

"Even though I'm going to die, I still sort of want to do cool things. Have a coming-of-age movie moment, you know? But I can't have one, so the next best thing is to try give it to someone else." Camera Kid paused. "I think coming-of-age movies are only for teens, though. It would be cooler if I, like, changed the life of someone who's already an adult. Cuz people my age aren't fully developed. That's shaping a life, not changing it. Changing a life would be much harder than shaping one."

Hm. Maybe Jason should give the camera to Dickhead. He's an adult, legally. Give the kid, whoever he is, his wish to try change a life.

Jason would never admit it, but he can't help but snicker. There's no way some random kid can shape or change a life. Especially not with a... Jason checked. Not with a one and half minute video.

"But if that doesn't happen, it's fine. Not like I'll know anyways. I like this camera, so I'll only give it away just before I die. Unless I come back as a ghost who's like, tethered to this camera, I'll never know if anyone watches these videos."

With those words, Jason sobered. It didn't feel funny once he remembered that whoever this kid was, dumb hopes aside, was clearly certain he'd die. If what he said was true, then he already was. That made Jason feel really bad for laughing, and even a little sick.

He'd seen dead bodies before, even his own mom's. He'd watched, smelt, and heard people die. He'd talked people off the ledge, both metaphorically and literally. But this? Holding the beloved camera of a boy who was most likely dead? It made death feel melancholy in a way Jason had never felt before.

"So, yeah. You have three options." The boy says, and reaches out to end the video.

Jason didn't know what to do. Really, he has four options.

[themissinglynx]

A while back, I made a WC world where the fanclans (which are 100+ members each) are constantly threatened by monsters. This is an AU placed in that world. It includes accurate genetics and a traditional naming style (know that wildlife from all temperate forest/plains biomes are able to be used as prefixes). A thing to note about the culture of these clans is the wardens, cats of any given rank (warrior, messenger, healer, seer, etc) who are trained to fight the monsters. Upon finishing their training, they are given a suffix with a more metaphorical meaning. Most clan members have a body part as a suffix. Through only their name, one can discern the appearance of a cat, their greatest characteristic, and their rank.

This first cat here is Moonflower, interpreted as a blue lynx point with white-spotting. Her dad was a blue point and her mom was a blue and white tabby with her own father being a point. Her genotype is something along the lines of: oo (no red) - BB (black) - dd (diluted) - Aa (tabby) - TmTm (mackerel) - Ww (some white) - cscs (siamese point). Her blue eyes are caused by her pointism and her pink nose is due to the white around her muzzle.

Since she’s a pointed cat, she was born white, earning her the name Cloudkit. Her warrior suffix -belly was given due to her motherly nature. She first married Stormtail and had one kit from that, Bluekit. Stormtail divorced her after Bluekit’s birth, and she needed time to recover from the divorce. A few years after Bluepaw’s apprenticeship, Cloudbelly married her childhood friend, who just returned from training in the Guard, Goldenthorn (Sunstar). Within their first year of marriage, they bore Bluefur’s half-sister, Snowkit. Cloudbelly lived beyond her canon death and was able to watch her grandchildren be born and some of them grow. She sadly died of a monster attack in her village, which also took the lives of Pebblekit (Mosskit) and Snowfur. Her grandchildren are Stonetree, Mistwind, Pebblekit, and Whitepad.

This second cat here is Goosefeather, interpreted rather closely to canon. He’s a blue tabby with white-spotting. His genotype is something like this: o (no red) - BB (black) - dd (diluted) - Aa (tabby) - TmTm (mackerel) - Ww (some white) - Ccs (normal coloring). He has amber eyes, but could’ve had anything from green to hazel to yellow or even gold (although it’s hard to draw differences between amber, yellow, and gold). His nose is split between gray and pink because of the mixing of pelt colors there.

Goosekit’s prefix was given in reference to the Greylag goose, though many who hear his name first think he’ll be brown or black in reference to the Canadian goose. His potential as a seer was noted by his predecessor, Icepelt (Cloudberry), who encouraged him in that direction. While training, he possessed an innate sense of the will of the gods, earning for himself the -maw suffix. Shortly after earning his full name, he started gaining awful nightmares he could only interpret as visions from the gods. As a result, he doesn’t sleep often and has become somewhat stressed from his horrific nightmares. If he were fully human, his hair would grow prematurely gray at 20-something because of how stressed he is. He’s the oracle for the gods and the spiritual leader of his clan! And the gods have decided to curse (or possibly bless?) him with these possible visions and the greater expanse of civilization’s enemy. He took an apprentice in Spottedpaw for the seer position, but froze to death on one especially cold winter night before he could fully train her. He maintained good relationships with his nieces (especially Bluetuft, she often looked to him for spiritual guidance), one healer from his colony, Fogface (Featherwhisker), and Murkstorm (Yellowfang).

Also, I’m gonna be putting this up on my DA in a while! Go check it out! It’s the same username in the signature.

[ghstandpucks]

Teacher Appreciation Part 3 ~ Nathan MacKinnon (4+1)

Here it is! Part 3 (and last) of Teacher Appreciation! I'm so thankful for all the comments and love, thank you to everyone who has read it! Let me know what you think of this part! Shout out to @cozynightscandle for asking about a part 3 and providing some inspo, as well as @avsfans95 for always letting me bounce ideas off of her!

Also, sixth grade is still considered elementary in my district, so I kept it that way for purposes of the story!

Summary: The four times Nate surprised your class, and the one time your class and Nate surprised you.

Warning: mentions of the pandemic (not the main focus, just touching on how teaching was during that time as I spent the beginning of my teaching career pretty much online)

Word Count: 4,634

Master List

Your first year of teaching sixth grade was actually more successful than you would have thought. It was a different type of bond you were able to build with your students. Instead of having to tie shoes and clean boo-boos, you became someone that your students would come talk to if they were too stressed. They told you their dreams and aspirations; all the while still relying on you to calm their fears when math became overwhelming. Long story short, you absolutely loved it. Yes, some were taller than you, and on more than one occasion Nate would lose you among your kiddos when he would come to help in your classroom. Still, you built connections that you didn’t think were possible after always working with the younger kids. Nate loved seeing how excited you were, and loved when you would come home and tell him all about what your kids did that day.

And yes, home was now with Nate. During a bad snow one evening, you were panicking about having to get back home so you could change just in case school wasn’t cancelled for the next day. Nate, off-handedly, suggested that it would be easier for you to just move in, since you were over all the time anyways; his office half taken over with craft supplies already. You agreed with a sarcastic laugh, thinking he was joking, but woke up to him clearing out space in his closet. During winter break, you officially moved in. Now it was your second year in sixth grade, and a handful of your kiddos from third grade when you first met Nate were back in your class. And if you thought third graders were intrusive, they just got worse, especially when they already knew you.

1

“Miss Y/L/N, could you not give us homework tonight? I have practice,” Steven asked right after the morning bell rang and you were checking over last nights homework.

“Steven, I already don’t give you much homework and you have time to usually start it in class. Use your time wisely kiddo,” you said, stamping his paper as he groaned.

“But Miss Y/L/N…”

“But nothing, do your work,” you responded, making a face at him that caused the young boy to huff out a laugh. You had only been in school for a month now, but have been having a great time with your kids. Today, the Avs would be on campus talking with the fifth graders as they do every year about the presidential fitness test. Last week when your students caught word that the hockey team would be there, half of them pleaded with you to get the team into your classroom. Little did they know that you had a different surprise planned for them. During recess, Nate ran into your classroom as you gathered your PE supplies. “Do they know yet?” he asked, giving you a quick kiss and taking the kickball from your hands.

“Not a clue,” you giggled as he retreated to his teammates and you went to get your kids from line. Leading your students into the gym as you had PE after recess, they all started to shout and jump around when they saw who was joining them. You waved as Nate came into view, accompanied by the entire Avs’ line up.

“Hi Teacher Dad!” Alexa squealed over the commotion, and you swore your face was beat red. She hadn’t used that term yet this year and to be frank, you had forgotten about it.

“Alexa,” you started as the guys laughed.

“Hi Alexa,” Nate called out, smiling at you with a look that told you not to get upset. Looking back at the girl, she sent you a sweet smile and you just shook your head with a laugh.

“You know better,” you said and she giggled. “Alright, ladies and gentleman gather around please! Today we will be continuing our game of….”

“Kickball basketball!” your kids yelled, running off to their teams and taking their positions. “Wait wait wait. Before we get started, would someone kindly explain the rules of kickball basketball to our newcomers,” you gestured towards the Avs who looked completely confused at your fusion of the two ballgames.

“So one team pitches the ball like in kickball and the other team has to kick it. Then they skip around the perimeter of the basketball court and have to make it back home before the other team can get the ball and shoot it through the hoop,” Justin explained.

“There are also no bases so you can’t stop. You aren’t safe anywhere unless you make it back home,” Kalel added.

“This is really a game now?” Andre asked you and you nodded.

“And it is our favorite. So I have my kids playing odds vs evens based on their class numbers. I think you all can split up that way too,” you said, gesturing for the guys to join their respective teams. Nate watched as you settled the argument about who the pitcher would be between three of your boys, not handing the ball over till they figured it out diplomatically.

“She wasn’t joking when she said her students were taller than her, was she?” Andre laughed from beside Nate as he chuckled along. You stood on the sideline, cheering and calling out foul balls for the duration of the game. The Avs took it easy with your kids, just laughing and having fun. Your kids were ecstatic, being able to call some of the guys their teammates; getting high fives and being cheered on by the pro athletes. You PE time was about to end within another five minutes as the teams switched sides after the evens got three outs on the odds. You saw Isaac hand Nate the ball to make him pitcher, smiling as Nate gently rolled the ball to Kiely. After she kicked it and almost made it around, Steven was up.

“Miss Y/L/N, will you kick?” he called out to you, and your class started to cheer. It was no secret that you played PE games with your kids from time to time. A chant of your name was started as you laughed and put your keys and walkie talkie off to the side.

“Teacher Mom vs Teacher Dad, yaaaasss,” Alexa cheered and you shook your head.

“Alexa,” you called and she smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry!” Nate laughed and turned his attention back to you. He rolled the ball slower than you knew he could, but that didn’t stop you from kicking it with all your might. Your kids (and the Avs) on your side were cheering loudly as you skipped around the perimeter laughing, coming back to home a second before Tyson got the ball in the net.

“Evens win!” you called out, then made your two teams shake hands with each other and collect the equipment as it was time to head back to class. As your class was saying goodbye to the Avs, Nate walked over and bumped his arm into you.

“You know I went easy on you right?” he asked, ever the competitor. You laughed and smiled sweetly at him.

“You know you shouldn’t have, right?” you shot back, laughing as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you back home. Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you,” he whispered back. You gathered your class and ushered them out of the gym and back to your classroom. The rest of the day went well as your class was floating on cloud nine from their interaction with the Avs.

2

One Thursday afternoon before Winter break, you came home with several bags of potatoes in hand. Opening your apartment door, you walked in on Mikko and Andre watching a basketball game with Nate; your boyfriend automatically getting up and taking a few bags from you. “What’s with all the potatoes?” Mikko asked.

“We’re mummifying them tomorrow in class,” you answered casually, walking off into the kitchen as Nate sat back down on the couch while Mikko and Andre looked entirely confused.

“Did what she just said not phase you at all?” Andre asked Nate and the center shrugged.

“I’ve been hearing about this project for like 3 months now,” he said casually. You walked back into the room and sat on the edge of the couch near Nate.

“Mummifying potatoes?” Mikko asked, looking slightly horrified.

“Yeah, we’re learning about ancient Egypt. We’re going to wrap the potatoes in foil and decorate them with plastic jewels like they were death masks,” you explained in an excited tone.

“How?” Andre asked, now completely more interested in what you were talking about than the game.

“I’m going to cut large slices of potatoes so ever student gets a handful. Then we’re going to pour baking soda and salt on them to dry it out like the Ancient Egyptians would dry a body. Then we are going to wrap it in tin foil like a sarcophagus and decorate. When we get back from winter break, we’ll ‘excavate’ them by unwrapping the potatoes and see how we did with drying it out, documenting changes and what we see like archaeologists,” you explained. Nate smiled up at you as Mikko and Andre tried to figure out if the project seemed cool or crazy. They settled on cool.

“Can we help?” Mikko asked and you laughed.

“Nate’s coming in tomorrow to help. The two of you can come with him if you want,” you said and the guys nodded.

The following day, Alexa answered the door when there was a knock as you were starting to explain to your class what they were going to do with their potatoes. “Teacher Dad! You’re here!” She said quietly as to not get in trouble by you. Nate chuckled, nodding as Mikko and Andre planned on chirping him later for how comfortable your class was with him if they were calling him teacher dad like it was no big deal. It was one thing when they were younger, but took on a different comfort level as they were older.

The guys helped you pass out the materials and made their own sarcophagi as you circled the classroom making sure your students were staying on task and not just goofy around. A few of your sports obsessed boys clung to the hockey players and copied their every move, decorating their sarcophagi to look similar. You laughed, passing by Nate’s and adding an extra jewel because you wanted to make it more sparkly. He narrowed his eyes at you, but let you keep adding jewels until you were content and circled the class again to see how your kids were coming along. Mikko and Andre snickered; only you would be allowed to touch anything of Nate’s and not have him explode on you.

“Mr. MacKinnon?” two of your girls came up to Nate with little giggles. He looked at them confused, but answered.

“Yes?”

“You and Miss Y/L/N are dating right? Like you’re here all the time. Ever since third grade,” Audrey asked in a hushed tone while Cierra continued to giggle. Nate flushed, not sure how to answer them.

“You must really like her. Like, marry her like her,” Cierra added as Nate cleared his throat and his teammates started to laugh. Before Nate could formulate a sentence though, you were calling for your class’s attention, letting them know it was time to put their ‘sarcophagi’ on the back counter and clean up for the day. As you circled the room again, you noticed Nate looking a bit red with the two forwards trying to hold in their laughter.

“You okay?” you asked him quietly.

“Fine,” he shot you a smile, and though you were skeptical, you returned to your class.

“Yeah Teacher Dad Mackinnon. When are you going to make her Teacher Mom MacKinnon?” Andre chirped quietly, muttering a sorry when you shot him a look having heard his voice, but not what he said. Truth be told, Nate had already thought about it and had plans for an off-season proposal.

3

Campus was quiet on a Thursday after school. You had made copies and stapled a few packets together, graded math tests, and prepared a social studies test for Friday. One task led to another and you kept walking around your room hanging up new student work. Sitting down, you started working on going through your students work from the week to check for understanding and participation. As you were stamping and writing comments, you heard your door being unlocked. Figuring it was the custodian, you kept on plugging away. “Hi Ms. Kay,” you said cheerfully, before looking up and jumping in shock. “What are you doing here?” Nate looked at you incredulously.

“Why are you still here? Y/N I thought something happened to you,” he walked over to you and pulled you up and into a hug. Was he worried about you?

“No, I was just getting some things done. How did you get in?” you asked as he let go of you.

“Ms. Kay gave me your room key when I ran into her in the parking lot. Why the hell are you still here? I tried to call you like ten times,” Nate said, obviously worried, but you still weren’t sure why.

“I have bad reception in my room, I’m sorry babe,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Why are you so worried. Is everything okay?”

“You don’t know what time it is, do you?” Nate asked you, laughing humorlessly.

“It’s only like 4:30,” you said, looking at him confused.

“Hun, no,” he said, showing you his watch. “It’s 7:30.”

“Oh my gosh Nate. I am so sorry! One thing led to another and I wasn’t paying attention and…” you rambled.

“Hey it’s okay,” Nate tilted your chin up with his forefinger. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, realizing you had worried him. Nate smiled softly at you, giving you a quick kiss before grabbing your backpack and keys.

“Let’s go home,” he tugged on your hand but looked back when you didn’t budge.

“Nate I have so much to do. I don’t know how I got behind this week but I need to get all their work together and sent home in their Friday folders,” you rushed out, starting to feel overwhelmed that you didn’t have all the time you thought you had.

“Then they can get them on Monday. You need to come home and get some rest,” Nate tried to reason patiently with you.

“Nate, they’re called Friday folders for a reason,” you said.

“And I’m sure if they get them late one week no one will riot,” he responded.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know your class adores you as their teacher. Now let’s go home and you can finish them tomorrow if you’re going to stress over it,” Nate started to pull you along.

“But…”

“Leave it.”

The next day you were running on pure caffeine and more thankful than usual that it was Friday. The unfortunate part, your schedule had no room for you to work on your Friday folders. Figuring you would skip lunch to get it done, you went about your day as usual. You were helping Noah with dividing fractions when there was a knock at your door. As you continued to help your student, Justin got up and answered. “Mr. MacKinnon!” he yelled and your head shot up.

“Justin, that is not an appropriate classroom tone,” you said as your class was all trying to get a better look at Nate. “Get back to work you guys. I’ll be right back Noah. Try number 12 by yourself,” you suggested, getting up and walking over to Nate. “Everything okay?”

“What do you want me to file?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, confused by his question.

“You were stressed yesterday about your Friday folders and they still look empty,” Nate gestured toward your hanging files on the wall with all the student’s folders in them. “I figured I would stop by to see if you needed help.”

“Are you my room mom for the day?” you laughed quietly and Nate nodded. Checking the time, you shook your head.

“You just got out of practice. I appreciate the help, but I’m sure your tired. Go home and rest,” you said, feeling guilty that you had worried him yesterday.

“I’m good. Where should I start?” he smiled.

“Please let him stay Miss Y/L/N. I love making my brother mad that Nathan MacKinnon spends time in our class instead of his,” Isaac said from behind you. Turning around, you laughed looking up at the tall sixth grader.

“Why are you up?” you asked.

“Oh! I need help on number 15,” he showed you his messy paper.

“We’ll go over everything right now. But did you flip the second fraction and then simplify?”

“No….”

“Ohhh, I would start there,” you smiled.

“Yes ma’am,” Isaac saluted you and went back to his desk. You laughed softly, shaking your head and turning back to Nate. “If you’re sure you want to stay, their work is all ready to be filed and it’s sitting on my desk. Thank you.” You smiled at Nate with a sigh of relief. He squeezed your arm reassuringly for a moment, then walked over to your desk to grab the stack he needed. “Alright my crazies, let’s go over our keep, change, flip.”

4

This wasn’t actually happening, was it? There’s no way this is real. These thoughts swirled in your head on a Friday in March. The school was closing for an extended spring break due to an outbreak. COVID-19 was closing your school. Nate’s season was just postponed, and now school. You went home in tears that day, not knowing what was going to happen next.

Over the next two weeks, you prepared Google Classrooms and work to do digitally as your school year was called. A month in a half online, then summer. Nate was getting agitated, not knowing what to expect with hockey and also worried for the both of you in the city. “I’m getting us a flight to Coal Harbor before they close the borders,” he mentioned one night during dinner.

“Nate, I can’t leave. What if I need to get back into my class? What if my kids need me?” you asked, your anxiety heightening.

“Then I’ll find a way to get you back here as quickly as possible. I just think we would be safer at home with more space, not an apartment in the middle of Denver,” he explained.

“I don’t have anything to teach there. At least here I have a white board, I can’t take that on a plane,” you rambled. Nate reached across the table and grabbed your hand.

“I already ordered you one for there. It’s being delivered tomorrow. You can turn one of the spare rooms into your classroom, or you can take my office and I can do things somewhere else. I just want to go back home, and I’m not comfortable leaving you here,” he said, wiping a tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You weren’t sure if you were stress crying or worried crying at this point. He did have a point though, and you were online for the remainder of the school year. You nodded.

“Okay.”

~ ~ ~

Three weeks later you were laughing at a story one of your kids was telling you over Google Meet. You had to give it to your class, they were very resilient and working hard to finish the year off. Deciding that you wanted to do something fun for PE, you roped Nate into a low-key training session. You told your kids to come to class that morning in their favorite sports gear and be ready to move. Opening your meet, you appeared in your MacKinnon jersey. “Of course you have a MacKinnon jersey Miss Y/L/N,” Cierra said laughing. You looked at her shocked.

“Who else should I have?” you laughed with her.

“Crosby,” Kiely unmuted herself quickly.

“I heard that Kiely!” Nate yelled from somewhere in the hallway. Your kids started laughing and you smiled at them, thankful to have them all healthy and safe in front of you, even if it was through a screen.

“Okie dokie kiddies. I have something fun planned for us today. Are you all ready to meet our special guests?”

“We know Mr. MacKinnon is there Miss Y/L/N,” Steven unmuted himself and laughed.

“I said guests as in plural Steven. But if you don’t want to meet him, I guess I can just send him back home,” you shrugged, starting to turn around in your chair.

“No no no! Steven stop talking. Miss Y/L/N, who is it?” Noah called, practically bouncing out of his seat.

“Hey, be nice Noah. Alright ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I would like you to meet your PE coaches for the day. Mr. MacKinnon you already know, but say hi!” your kids all unmuted themselves to say hello to Nate as he walked into the room. “Okay now, drumroll please! Your other PE coach, Mr. Crosby!” The screams of your kids had you pressing ‘mute all’ really quick. If only there was a mute all in real life. Sidney waved at your kids while Nate laughed as Kalel fell out of his chair in excitement. You saw parents running into the rooms of your students, all waving and excited themselves once they saw there was no danger.

After a 30 minute workout with Nate and Sid demonstrating and counting for the kids, you let them have time to talk with your class. They had been working so hard, you figured some time missed from learning to enjoy themselves in this hectic experience was needed. Friday was half day for you online, so after a math review and reading time, you said goodbye to your kids as they all started to log off. Waving till the last one left, you sunk back into your chair as you ended the call. Nate came into the room and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for doing that today,” you said, smiling at your boyfriend.

“Of course. I would do anything for you, you know that,” he said simply and you smiled. “I am mad at Kiely though. Why should you have a Crosby jersey?” Nate made a face and you giggled.

“She just wants what’s best for her teacher,” you teased him, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss and then standing up to head to the kitchen for a snack.

“Yeah sure,” Nate said, then comprehended what you just said. “Hey!” he ran after you, circling his arms around your waist while you laughed and tried to get away from him.

+1

It was the last day of school for the year, and you were watching a movie with your kids on Google Meet. After the meet you talked about the summer and what they hoped to do if they could. You had them also talk about what their favorite part of the year was and what they look forward to in Junior High. “You guys know that I will always be here for you. I know you will all be awesome seventh graders and I can’t wait to run into you all at the grocery store one day and have you all tell me about it,” you said, starting to get choked up with having to say goodbye to them after such an insane year.

“I’m gonna miss you Teacher Mom,” Alexa unmuted herself and you almost broke. Even though you would get after her when she would call Nate Teacher Dad, you loved being her Teacher Mom.

“You’re going to make me cry,” you said, tearing up and laughing as your kids all started to unmute themselves to tell you not to cry.

“Miss Y/L/N, can you call Mr. MacKinnon into the room please?” Kiely asked softly and you nodded, figuring she wanted to say goodbye to him too. You called for Nate, laughing at a joke one of your boys told you while he walked into the room. Seeing him through the camera, you turned around in shock.

“What’s all of this?” you said to all the little presents and cards Nate was holding and placing down on the desk beside your laptop.

“We all wanted to get you something, so my mom emailed Mr. MacKinnon to plan how to get it to you!” Isaac shouted.

“Email?” you asked Nate, not knowing they had his email.

“Instagram,” he whispered. Your actual room mom DMed Nate.

“You guys! This is too much! Thank you,” you gushed, looking at the outpour of love from your class. “You’re all the best and I love you guys,” you said, not helping the tears that came to your eyes.

“Love you Miss Y/L/N!” a few of your girls shouted while your boys just laughed.

“There is also one more thing,” Nate muttered to you, rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys ready?” he asked your class, and you could hear the nerves in his voice. Why was he nervous? Your kids all nodded, big smiles on most of their faces. “Okay, hold them up.” You watched the screen as your kids held up colorful posters with different sayings on them. Confused, you started to read them.

“Teacher Mom + Teacher Dad”

“Congratulations!”

“Mrs. MacKinnon’s Class!”

“Say yes!” … Kiely’s had a picture of a ring on it. Your jaw dropped as your heartbeat sped up.

“Turn around!” Alexa yelled through the speakers. Spinning in your chair, you came face to face with Nate kneeling in front of you, a beautiful ring in his hands.

“I had a whole speech planned out, but I’m forgetting it now,” he chuckled and you giggled with him, more tears filling your eyes. “I know this time has been crazy, and I didn’t plan on purposing to you during a pandemic, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. I love you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. I’m thankful everyday that those kids brought you to the rink that day three years ago. I love having crafts all over my desk because you need more space, and I love being Teacher Dad; more than I thought I would. But most of all, I love the peace and steadiness you bring to my life, even if you’re running in circles yourself. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Say yes!” shouts came from behind you on the computer screen. You smiled, nodding your head.

“Yes, of course,” you said, tears falling. Nate smiled at you and slipped the ring on your finger, standing up and bringing you into a hug. He wanted to kiss you, but knew you would get mad that it was in front of your class. Cheers erupted from the meet, and you turned to see not only your students but their parents also. Laughing, you showed your class your ring quickly.

“Yay Teacher Mom and Teacher Dad!” Alexa shouted and you couldn’t get mad at her this time. After they all calmed down and you said your final goodbyes, you ended the meet and found Nate laying on the couch. You lowered yourself on top of him and kissed him.

“How did you get them to do that?” you asked, referring to the signs.

“When Isaac’s mom messaged me, I brought it up. She coordinated it all with the other parents,” he said and you laughed.

“I love you,” you said, kissing him again, Nate wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I love you too, future Mrs. MacKinnon.”

Tagged: @avsfans95 @capsvsducks @justjosty @tysojost @natxpat @evphemia @stlbluesbrat21 @fallinallincurls @joeyisourranger @kyratallent @drewseph93 @ayohockeycheck @tkbarzal @stormingroses @dreamandrow @handwrittenheros @brandonbagel @bakerclaire123 @miranda0102 @cherrylita @musiclove-12 @reallyawkwardbandlover

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter One: Feathers in Fukuoka

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: Y/n unexpectedly meets the current number two hero Hawks in Fukuoka. The grayish blue Parakeet catches the eye of the speedy hero, who promises himself he’ll meet them again.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Warnings: Child abuse, Karens, blood, Hawks being creepy, chaotic best friend, gore, shitty parents, deadbeat dad

Other: The amount of research I put into this, wing anatomy, feather anatomy, types of birds, parakeet behaviors, cities in Japan, I even found a good Japanese name for the best friend, since this does take place in Japan. If you wanna know, Izanagi, the name of Y/n’s best friend in this fic, means ‘First male, god of creation’ and I love that name. Actually, I love anything in the Japanese language, it’s such a beautiful language and I cannot wait to learn it. Also, there was a problem with the spacing in the flashback scene so I just fixed that real quick, sorry for the inconvenience!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin (If you want to be added/removed from the taglist let me know).

You stared out the window. It had taken forever but you’d convinced him to let you look down at the streets surrounding his penthouse. You rested one hand on the cool glass, letting out a breath. Your other hand was tracing the scars on your legs, You had long given up on getting them to heal.

You fluttered your wings, or what was left of them. No matter how many times your primary flying feathers would grow back, it would never deter your captor from simply clipping them off again. Thankfully, he did a better job than other people. He would never cut a blood feather. Well, mostly.

You closed your eyes, the house was so stifling at times, despite the large open rooms, and the fact that your captor would occasionally allow you out into the garden. You attempted to recall the last time you were free in Fukuoka. You remembered a bright sky, blue as your wings, and clouds fluffy and soft as your feathers. You remembered the ache in your body from working yourself all day, and just how heavy your legs felt. You remembered a kid’s joyful cheers when she saw you….

“Mommy! Look, look at the pretty bird! Can I touch it please?” you were standing on the street, waiting for a friend to pick you up and take you over to their house to watch movies and eat popcorn. You looked up from your phone at the sound of the child’s loud, innocent voice. 

“Go right ahead, Kaneko!” a woman’s voice this time. You frowned. Whatever bird they were talking about it probably wasn’t a good idea for the kid to just run up and touch it. You were forcibly removed from your thoughts when sharp pain shot up through your wing. Oh, you were the ‘pretty bird’ the kid was talking about.

Your quirk was Parakeet, and that was fine by itself, but it came with pros and cons. Some pros were that you could fly, even though you couldn’t do that in public in most places in Japan. Some cities in Japan had laws that allowed flyers to take to the skies under strict sky traffic laws, but Fukuoka was not one of those cities. Maybe you would have been better off in Miyagi or Fukui, where you could fly freely, but at the same time, you had lived your whole life near Fukuoka, plus it was such a beautiful city, it was easier to stay here.

Another pro was simple, the thing most people think about when they say they want a mutant-type quirk. The looks. Your wings had three different colors, but the base color was a beautiful summer sky blue. At the very top of your wings, your marginal coverts were a curious shade of gray. Not dark enough to be black but not light enough to be white. Underneath were your secondary coverts, which were white as the clouds in the sky. The rest of your feathers were pretty blue colors. Your tail feathers followed the same pattern as your wings.

Everything else about your quirk wasn’t very fun. Behavioral issues that had gotten you in trouble in school and at work, especially during mating season. Plus the sheer amount of people with prejudice against mutant quirks. You’d heard it all. People thinking they had the right to touch your wings and tail, people shouting to you in a high-pitched voice to force you to repeat their words, people claiming you weren’t human, people insisting you fly them somewhere, etc etc. This was unfortunately something you dealt with on the daily.

Just like this kid grabbing your wing. 

“OW! Don’t do that!” you shrieked, yanking your wing away from the kid, spinning around to see her. Her little hand was wrapped around one of your darker feathers. Fuck. Of course, she grabbed a blood feather. The little girl’s eyes welled up in tears, and she turned and ran back to her mom. Thank the stars, she let go of your feather.

You sighed, running your fingers through your wings to smooth the ruffled feathers. 

“Excuse me, bird!” the mother of the child grabbed your shoulder, forcibly spinning you around to face her. She was middle-aged, and furious. “What did you do to my dear Kaneko?”

You glanced between the woman and the girl, Kaneko. Kaneko was in tears, holding onto her mother’s leg. She had to have only been three or four, she probably didn’t know any better.

“I didn’t do anything to your child, ma’am. She ran up to me and grabbed my wing, which is very painful, and actually very rude in case you were unaware.”

“I don’t give a shit!” the woman screeched. You flinched away from her. She was cursing in front of her toddler? Irresponsible. “It’s my dear Kaneko’s birthday, and I say she gets whatever she wants! You’re just a fucking bird, so why can’t you sit still and let my daughter pet you!?”

Great, she was a fucking Karen. This was just what you needed after dealing with co-workers and clients at work. Getting your feather pulled and a crazy lady all up in your face, freaking out at you. Because her daughter hurt you.

“Because it’s painful, and I’d prefer not to let strangers touch my wings.” You explained yourself calmly.

“You fucking bitch!” the woman was screaming, her finger in your face. “You selfish, greedy little pig! She’s a child, let her live her life!” Shadows danced in your peripherals as her words faded from your ears. 

Cold metal was pressed up against your feathers, you dreaded the snipping noise that meant she was cutting. You could feel the scissors press into the stem of your feather before the metal blades connected, severing the feather from your wing. 

“Ow! Mommy that hurts!” hot, wet, salty tears stained your cheeks. “Mommy please stop it!” You were five, getting your wings clipped for the first time.

“Shut up! Don’t be so fucking selfish!” a harsh voice snapped at you, the aggression making you shudder as you sobbed. Your pupils were blown wide in fear as you screamed.  “Stop, Mommy that one hurts more!” your mother didn’t even hesitate, cutting off another feather. It hit the ground like the rest of them, but something else came with it. Blood dripped down your wings, staining the pretty blues and plopping onto the ground.

“You’re dirtying my clean floors!” mother screeched behind you. “When I finish with your wings, you’ll clean that up!”

“Mommy?” you sniffled, trying to hold back your chest-heaving sobs. “Why do I hafta have my wings clipped?”

“So you don’t fly away like your jackass of a father. I won’t let you leave Mommy.”

“Get your finger out of my face, woman!” you shouted at her, you were just seconds away from biting it off of her ugly hand. You were trembling, and you could hardly breathe what with the marching drums hammering away at your ribcage

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you inhuman!” The little girl shied away from her mom, crying harder. You opened your mouth to retort against the crazy Karen, but stopped when you saw the girl’s reaction. You knew she probably felt bad for hurting you, and now her mother was screaming and cursing, you knew how scary that was.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a whoosh of wind and a flash of red. Something wrapped around your arms, tugging you away from the woman, and something tugged the woman away from you. You looked down, seeing red feathers curled around your biceps. You’d only seen red feathers in one other place. When your own feathers were soaked in blood from your mom’s clippings. You shook your head, pushing the dark memories from your mind as you grabbed the feather and pulled it off of you as quick as possible, it flew away from you almost immediately, heading towards a man far taller than you. His golden hair was messy but very soft-looking. His slitted eyes glanced between you and the woman behind his golden goggles. His hands rested in the pockets of his large brown jacket. But none of that compared to his intimidatingly large red wings. It would be impossible not to recognize him, he was your best friend’s favorite.

Number Two Pro-Hero in Japan; Hawks

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I heard shouting.” he said, a lazy smile resting on his face.

“This crazy bird-bitch hit my daughter!” the Karen screamed hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” you thought she’d at least be above that, but it looked this woman didn’t give a shit about morality. “I didn’t touch her at all! She grabbed my wing then you freaked out when it hurt me!” 

“Hey, now, no need to get upset.” Hawks turned to you, and something in him changed. His wings shivered, and his eyes slitted, before blowing back out to normal size. “Birdie, tell me your side of the story.” you took a step away from the hero, something about his reaction to seeing you didn’t seem natural. It creeped you out. Also, why was he calling you ‘birdie?’

“I was standing around, waiting for my friend, then this kid saw me. She must have thought my wings were pretty because she ran up to be and grabbed one of my feathers. A blood feather, actually. It hurt and I yanked my wing back and told her not to do that. This woman seemed to have some delusion that her daughter has every right to touch and hurt me and I’m supposed to- and I now quote- ‘sit still and let her pet me.’” You explained.

“Ah I see.” Hawks nodded, turning to a young man on the street. “Sir, who’s explanation is correct?” he asked.

“Uh- the bird’s?” the guy seemed out of it, just staring at the hero.

“Thanks, sir. Ma’am, could you and your daughter apologize to this nice person?”

“No way in fucking hell!” the woman screamed. “Come on, Kaneko, we’re getting out of here. And I’m throwing away all your Hawks bobbleheads, now I know he’s a fucking biased pig.” The girl glanced up at her mom before quickly running to you, taking your hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t wanna hurt you, your wings just looked so pretty!” you softened a little, crouching down and patting the girl’s head, smiling at her.

“It’s alright, I forgive you. Next time you see something pretty, tell the person it’s pretty, then ask if you can touch it.” The girl lit up, nodding eagerly.

“I will!” she exclaimed before her mother dragged her away. 

“You didn’t need to apologize to that asshole. They were the one that made you cry.” she grumbled, walking down the street as she fumed. 

“Poor girl…” you muttered. “Having a Karen for a mom.” you stared after her empathetically. You didn’t notice the look in the hero’s eyes, staring you up and down, shifting from one leg to the next. “Oh um, thanks Hawks,” you said, turning back to him. “For helping me.”

You froze when you saw his face, eyes seemingly staring into your soul, expression blank. He seemed to be calculating something, scanning you for information. Your blood ran cold when you noticed his pupils, thinner than paper.

“Oh!” he was shaken out of his daze by your voice, a careless smile dawning his features as his pupils returned to normal. “No problem, Birdie.” you pursed your lips, nodding. You saw a small black car turn the corner, and you honed in on the license plate. Saved at last! Your friend was here!

“Alright, uh I’ve gotta be going now…” you chuckled nervously. 

“Wait, a sec, I’m gonna need your name for a report.” he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small voice recorder and holding it up to you. “Just speak it in here.” Oh, yeah that made sense, Heroes had to make reports of everything they resolved in a day, so it was probably best to get the names of the people they help in case the PHSC needed to contact them.

“Y/n.” you spoke as clear as you could when he pressed the button on the side of the recorder. “Y/n L/n. Hawks helped me win a petty fight with a Karen.” you chuckled a little into the recorder. Hawks nodded, putting the recorder back into his pocket. He glanced back at you for a moment, expression aloof and apathetic.

“Thanks, Y/n!” he flashed you another smile before taking off into the sky, leaving you confused. 

Why did he use your personal name and not your family name?

The door to the small black car opened, and your friend stumbled out, running forward a few paces before cursing.

“You fuckin kidding me, Y/n? You got to meet Hawks?” he stared at you in disbelief. “You couldn’t have made him stay a minute longer? You know he’s my celebrity crush!” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Your best friend since you were a young child, Izanagi Fujikawa. Bisexual, chaotic, and your mortal enemy. 

“Iza, he’s a pro hero. He’s got shit to do!” Izanagi pouted, crossing his arms.

“I know… I’m still mad at you though.” you rolled your eyes, scoffing. 

“We can deal with that.” you poked his cheek, climbing in the passenger seat before he grabbed your elbow, pulling you back towards him.

“Your wing’s all messed up- what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” you shrugged him off, climbing in and buckling your seatbelt, unaware of the sharp golden eyes watching you.

Hawks was perched on a nearby building, eyes slitted as he glared down at your friend. You two were close, he could tell. Why did that make him so fucking furious? His feathers twitched as he played back the recording you’d given him. That laugh, golden and free. He looped it, your gentle voice blessing his ears and relaxing his body for him.

“Pff- hahahaha!” he closed his eyes, re-imagining your face, the soft smile gracing your angel-like features, the way your wings flapped slightly, the nearly inaudible purr vibrating in the back of your throat. He wanted you to laugh around him more, he wanted you to be around him more, he wanted you to be his. 

Even if he only got to talk to you for a minute, he felt like he already knew everything there was to know about you. You didn’t like causing trouble, seeing how polite you were at first to that crazy lady. You could stand your ground though, not afraid to stand up for yourself. You were kind, and forgiving, he got that from how you treated the kid. 

A sudden realization struck Hawks. It was frightening, terrifying even. He loved you. Breathtaking Y/n L/n, the pretty parakeet. Ah, but that guy. That guy was in the way. Not to worry, he could remove the… complication.

Soon.

You would belong just to him.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Thee Stallion

Word Count: 5,467

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Megan The Stallion, Hotch x Emily Prentiss

Summary: I’m trying something new, the writing style, the character type and fandom all a bit different than my usual stories so please lmk what you think ! So this first part is loosely based on Season 3 Episode 17. A Spencer Reaid sexual redemption story of sorts. Spencer’s high school crush grows up to be singer & sex icon Megan thee Stallion but, when a killer sadist and kidnapper enters her circles she turns to Spencer& The BAU  for help. The Team ends up going undercover at a sex party and things ensue. I’m aware it the most random pairing on the planet and it didn’t need to happen.But, this is what I wanted to write so like……..suck it???🤷🏾‍♀️Also a Prentiss and Hotch hook up ??? whaaaaat? I know I know I’m unhinged. Enjoy sluts😜Again Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Please don’t copy or repost my fics without my permission!

"I don't know. Are you sure your parents aren't going to mind?" Spencer asked, nervously biting his bottom lip. He stepped into the doorway of the large home. It smelled clean, he noted that it didn't have the smells of a normal house, it's scents didn't remind him of family but more of a hotel.Scents of  maids, glass cleaners and overly expensive clothing filled his nostrils. He wasn't judging her but, to say her parents were filthy rich would be an understatement. Freshman year she moved to Las Vegas, and a week ago Mrs. Baird had asked Spencer if he'd mind tutoring her after school. He played it cool in front of his favorite teacher but, inside his heart had skipped for joy. He never actually expected her to ask him to walk her home. Not that he could consider saying no. No one would be looking for him anyway. As the Vegas sun beat down on them his heart soared, even in the silence.This infact was his cloud nine.He just never expected for the hottest girl in school to admit to wanting to spend time with him,much less for an extended period. Obviously, it was a purely platonic mathematical meeting but, still this was more alone time with a girl he wasn't related to than he had had so far in his life. She headed up the stairs and he followed behind her like a lost puppy, trying with all his might not to look up her incredibly short school-uniform-issued skirt,as she ascended. It wasn't necessarily that she was the most popular girl in school, or the fact that she was the hottest that made him crazy about her, as much as it was the fact that she always smiled at him. She was just nice. The day he met her,Mom was having an episode, a bad one and she forgot to wake him up for school. Much to his surprise this day was also her first day of school, she smiled at Spencer in the office and he made sure to set an alarm knowing he couldn't rely on his mother and was never late to school again. He vowed to himself to never miss that smile if he could help it. 

The intricate wooden door swung open into what Spencer could only imagine was the inside of a pepto-bismol bottle, or every girl's dream. The entire room was hot pink and bright, it wasn't what he had pictured for her but then again she was doing many things out of character today. 

"Are you sure your parents are okay with me being in your room?" he asked again, just to be on the safe side. She broke into laughter shooting him a look of astonishment that also somehow managed to make him feel as though he had asked a stupid question. 

"They never care that there are boys in my room. They're never home." she retorted quickly.

"O." Spencer was surprised by the popping sound his lips made as he said it.

"Why?" she followed up quickly "You've never had a girl in your room before?" she took off her sweater, embellished with the school's emblem and sat it on the back of her color coordinated office chair.

"Ummmmm no." He replied honestly .

"Then you should invite me over sometime." She said, crossing the room to sit on her impossibly large bed. 

"O ummm- I don't think that'd be a good idea." he whispered to himself. The room fell silent for a moment and he realized that he had made the moment awkward, she had offered to come to his house, to be in his room and he had turned her down. 

"Your uhhhh-Your room is VERY pink." he managed to get out in order to cover the silence. He scratched the back of his head, a visual declaration of his insecurities manifesting and she doubled over in laughter again, finding herself shockingly both amused and turned on by his honesty. Men weren't honest like that, and definitely not with her. 

"Pretty observant. I guess that's why you're the smartest kid in the state." She winked. He ignored the wink, it probably wasn't intentional. 

"Actually it's just the Tri-state area but......thanks" he trailed off again. This time she didn't try to come up with something to say to make him more comfortable. She allowed him to sit in the silence and shockingly he realized he was less bothered by it. She watched as he fiddled with his hands, the veins in his slender fingers raised to attention. Eventually, She pulled her textbook from her back pack and opened to a problem that she was having trouble with. Spencer watched over her shoulder as she worked through the math on her own. Truthfully, she got farther than he had expected her to. He could tell though that at this part she was stuck, he gave her a second to see if she would catch her mistake.But, he couldn't bare to watch it anymore , reaching down his hand to cover hers, guiding it to write the right numbers. When he leaned in she could smell his cologne, a scent much more mature than that of anyone else  their age. She wanted Spencer bad. He had to be avoiding it not to notice.He was actually the first boy she had had in her room that didn't attempt to get her naked the second the door closed behind them. His adams apple bobbed as he finished the last number and she decided to go for it. There was something about the curve in his lip as he smiled down at his math that made her want to jump his bones. She could tell he wasn't the kind of guy you fake an orgasm for. He was someone who wasn't afraid to work at something until they got it right. 

"Can you sit in this chair for me?" she asked, slowly running her hand over the seat's back.

"sure." he shrugged, taking the book with him, completely unaware of your intentions. You move to the door and lock it, he was probably a virgin,probably wanted a less risky experience.You straddle his right thigh and his eyes immediately snap up to meet you,when you finally lower yourself onto his leg, he can't ignore it anymore. You feel his body tensing up under you,

"Do you want me to stop?" you say looking directly in his eyes. He had never made uninterrupted eye contact with you for this long but you could see the wheels in his head turning. 

"NO!" he says, louder than he had expected to, afterall he was the smartest kid in the entire tri-state area. He knew what you were offering him now. You lean down to kiss him, at first his lips don't move and you wonder if you had completely misjudged him.Then, you feel a hand move to the back of your head as he cradles you to his mouth,pushing back, his tongue fighting for dominance. You slowly began rolling your hips on his leg, leaning in at the top, putting the most pressure on your clit. You could feel him growing hard, and soon enough you were rubbing him through his pants as he exhaled the tiniest moans. You were in love with that sound, and you knew you would do anything he asked you to, as long as he never stopped making it. He was able to lift himself up and move his pants down enough to spring his cock free from his underwear, it was so shockingly confident and unlike him a few minutes prior and you cherished it. You lifted your skirt for him so he could move your underwear to the side and enter you.The entire walk home had felt like foreplay to you anyway, the underwear you were wearing had been soaked through. He looked up at you, eyes heavily lidded and filled with lust. He didn't seem as innocent as he had before entering your room. Swinging your leg to his side so you were fully straddling him, you lowered yourself to him and relished in the intake of breath he had as his tip began exploring your walls.He looked up at you so innocently you couldn't help but moan out his name. 

"Shhh. Shh.We don't want anyone to hear you." He whispered before pulling you in for another kiss. You whine into his mouth as he ruts his hips up into you. His hips move with force but, control he's savoring it, not wanting to cum too soon. It was his first time, you wouldn't have held it against him but, god were you glad he was lasting. You were beginning to unravel ontop of him. His nimble fingers worked open the buttons of your shirt as you bounced on him. He reached a hand inside and you were surprised by the warmth of his long hand as he plamed your breast,working your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Oh. my god." you breathed over and over again, as he continued pushing into you. The sensation was much more than you were used to,and you grappled with your emotions as he pushed you over the edge. You were loud, there wasn't even an attempt to hold it in. He pulled back from your mouth, a large smile breaking across his face. He was beaming with pride and while you loved to see how happy your orgasm had made him, you were slightly annoyed to learn that even Spencer was not entirely exempt from succumbing to unnecessary male bravado. You could feel him moving inside you, pulsing his dick against your walls as he watched you come down from your high. He brought your face to his, kissing you deeply as you began to roll your hips onto him again. His gaze is dark and you press your hands down on his chest to adjust yourself as you ride him. He loves watching you,everything from the way you flip your hair, to the noises that escape your throat with each thrust. You kiss his neck, working your lips on the space behind his ear, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he whispers a light "Fuck." in response to your action. He began pushing into you fast and quick , he held you up by your hips allowing himself to slide completely in and out of you. When he controlled your hips it allowed him to push up and bottom out, hitting your deepest point. He moans again, his voice hitting a higher pitch than you had expected and you knew what you were doing to him. He pushed into you for the last  time letting out an embarrassingly loud noise as you bounced a bit more, releasing your orgasm all over him. He practically beams up at you , filled with pride. You make out with him again as he slowly softens inside you. 

"Do you ummm-want to finish studying or- I can leave if you...." The confidence of the moments before had evaporated and in its wake was the same timid genius as before. 

"I'd like it if you stayed." you said, peeling your skin from his and removing the rest of your school uniform while changing into your robe.You walked to your bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking at your reflection. You came back from the bathroom to find Spencer dressed, the chair was placed back near the table and the room looked as though nothing had ever happened. He had the book back in his lap and was reading it intently, or maybe he was just staring down at it to avoid making eye contact with you. 

"You can use the bathroom if you want." you smiled at him as you pulled the ties on your robe tighter. 

"I'm okay." he said, barely looking up from the text. There was a bang on the door, that got his attention. He looked at you now, his pupils jumping with fear. The knock hit the door again, stronger this time. 

"I'm coming." she called shakily. She quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door. 

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

 "So that's why they did it?"Derrick said, spinning in his chair again. The bull pen was practically empty but the heat that dripped off of Spencer's lips as he spoke was palpable. 

"He really had no choice." Spencer said furrowing his brow. "American society heralds the high school quarterback as the traditional teen alpha male .What was he supposed to do?" he shrugged, clearing his throat.

" He wasn't supposed to bully you, to embarrass you in front of the whole school. He shouldn't have chosen that.It's not your fault his girlfriend chose you." Derek leaned in, he was good at that, the supportive older brother role. It made him feel safer, it made him feel understood and it gave Derek a window into a part of Spencer's life that he was rarely allowed to see. 

"And that's why you don't want to help her?" Derek asked but it came out as more of a statement. Spencer returned his gaze to his desk while Derek ogled the woman in Hotch's office. 

"Sure had to be good for your ego though."Morgan remarks pleasantly, swinging his chair around again

"Pain and happiness are simply conditions of the ego.Forget the ego. A quote from Laozi."Spencer shrugs, pushing up from his desk. 

"Okay but have you seen her music videos?She twerks Spencer."

"I've seen all of them, the same as she's aware of every achievement and degree I've been honored with. We're friends just......from afar." the corner of Spencer's mouth twitched as he finished and Derek couldn't help but pry more, following him to the coffee stand. 

"Why?" he pushed " Do you think if you get close to her again something else bad will happen?"

"I don't know." his mouth quirked up again while he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Derek was chuckling to himself while stirring his coffee and Spencer knew he could not wait to tell Garcia. 

“What ?” he finally asked unable to ignore Morgan’s chuckles any longer. 

“Just never thought you could handle a sister… much less….” he trailed off.

“Shut up Morgan.” he countered quickly , refusing to make eye contact.

Emily crosses the room towards them, perching atop Morgan’s desk. “You guys got any idea what that’s about ?” She asks motioning towards Hotch’s office.

“Spencer’s friend had some coworkers go missing.” Morgan offers, folding his arms in a fake gesture of jealousy towards Spencer, who rolls his eyes. 

“Ah. What does she do?”Prentiss asks, always the curious one.

“Real-estate.” Spencer quips quickly before shoving his hands into his pockets and moving past them to leave. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by her, he truly wasn’t. It was more the time in his life that she reminded him of that he wished to escape.His thoughts were silenced  when Hotch announced to the bull pen that they were to meet immediately.

Hotch walked up swiftly behind Prentiss, "Pack and meet back here in 30." Hotch said, throwing the file under his arm. Prentiss looks from Spencer to Derek, and the room becomes silent as they watch Hotch walk away with Megan.

"O We're definitely taking this case." Derek raised his eyebrows and Spencer felt his heartbeat quicken. Okay so he had to be around her again, he could do that. It wasn't as if she was a bad memory. Infact, he associated her with a lot of the positive parts of his teenage years, nothing had really topped losing his virginity. 

"Hey guys-" Prentiss said looking up from the file,"you have no idea how fun this case is gonna be." she said, laughing to herself.

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

Spencer rapped his pen quickly against the notepad before him. The case actually seemed simple to him, she brought good intel, she practically handed them the unsub their only job was to make a clear, fool proof arrest.Dalton Hughes was wanted for kidnapping and forcing women into sexual slavery. Definitely not their usual work but, she had used Spencer’s name to get FBI attention.And while he attempted to hide it well, Spencer could tell Hotch was more than attracted to her.

 “Reid and Prentiss you’ll be undercover.” Hotch finished 

“ Woahhhh.Wait what?!?!” Spencer exclaimed 

“You brought us this case I assume you wanted to be hands on.” Hotch responds directly.

“ I do- I-I just think Morgan would be less obvious.” he pleaded to deaf ears.

“ Gee thanks.” Derek’s dry humor broke the rest of the room into an uproarious laughter.

“Actually, Tall fit black guy in those circles is either a performer or an athlete-regardless he’s got to much charm. He's  the kind of guy who walks into a room and everyone knows who he is. You guys need someone who can fly under the radar for this.” she says leaning in on the doorframe. Overhearing their meeting wasn’t intentional, she just wanted to make sure he had relayed the case clearly, plus there was only so much space inside the plane. 

“ Great. I’m just the right amount of invisible I guess.” Reid says, faking a smile as he gets up from his seat to pace the aircraft.JJ pats him on the back and you can tell she’s trying to console him but, you know there isn’t much left to console. The rest of the team filed out as you scurried to catch up with Spencer.

“ Did she just profile me?” Morgan asks aloud, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“ Look you know I respect our unspoken bond, and I swear I wouldn’t have come if I had another option.” you say grabbing his arm, pleading for him to look at you. He’d grown a lot since you had last seen him.His muscle tone was becoming as prevalent as his wit.

“ I know.” He admits sternly, his voice is low but sure.

“ I know-I just.I ummmm….” his voice trailed off and you watch as his eyes jumped around, looking everywhere except directly at you. It was impossible for him to be at a loss for words, this silence just meant he wasn’t sure of what he knew he wanted to say. “Can we uhhh-“ he still can’t find the agreeable language before Hotch cuts in. 

“We’re all okay with these assignments then?”he asks. He seemed to accept the assorted responses from the room and returned to his reading of the file. Megan quietly excuses herself to go to the bathroom. 

"Prentiss was right." Rossi smiles to himself, " I do love this case."

"I just don't see why I'm going undercover in a sex ring instead of Derek." Spencer whispers.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek shoots back in mock surprise.Both Prentiss and Spencer burst out in laughter, and even Hotch can't help but smile.

"For what it's worth I'd trade spots with you anyday, pretty boy." Morgan says winking at Spencer.

"We need it to be Reid, he and Megan have a good rapport and I want to build on that.The more natural the relationship looks the better."  

"Wait what do you mean relationship?"Prentiss shoots. No one responds, so Prentiss breaks the silence of the jet with an "O.I see......No way.....Well, good for you Reid."

"O my god." Spencer rolls his eyes"can we please just get to L.A. without going through my entire sexual history?"

"Oooooo.So there is a sexual history?" Now, Morgan turns to fully face Reid, clapping him on the back. Prentiss makes a sexual gesture with her hands, and the entire room erupts in laughter again.  

"Stop." Prentiss immediately let's up on the joke at Hotch's command.Everyone attempts to hold it in but, after a second of silence Rossi breaks, and the rest of the group can’t help but follow.  

“You know, I stripped undercover before.” Prentiss cuts in.

“Oh god. How did I know we were going to go back to that.”  Morgan feigns annoyance.

“Good point Emily, you should be paired with Hotch.” Rossi says flippantly.

“That’s fine. We could use Emily’s expertise.” Hotch says, his eyes flaring as he looks down at the file, definitely pretending to read. Clearly it was not fine but, it was more important for him to pretend it was for the sake of the room than not to. Plus, having more agents on the ground was always reassuring. 

The plane begins its landing process and Spencer is lost in thought.

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

He was calm and collected since the second he stepped off the plane to be honest. It wasn't until she slid her her leg on top of his, showing herself off to the dance floor,as he calmly rested his hand on her knee as if nothing out of the ordinary that he had the time to process what was happening."Okay can you see him?" she whispers into his ear. Ofcourse he can see him, ofcourse he was looking at her. Everyone in the room couldn't help but look at her, she was easily the most beautiful woman in any room she walked into. And while she was not the most famous guest at the party, not by a long shot she was, sure to grab attention that way as well.  Spencer knew that but,he also knew that this was acting, and while he was good at reading other people's behavior he hoped she wouldn’t judge his behavior by the feeling of him growing under her leg. "Are we going to talk to him now?" 

“No ...ummm our job is more to survey. You know keep an eye on everything.” He choked out.

“It’s easier if I have some help.” she smiled. He lightly brushed a finger over the tops of her knees, slowly moving his way up her thigh. It was gentle but, it was teasing enough for her to notice. 

“ I’m not against helping, I just didn’t think you’d need it.” he smiled smugly next to you. 

“What are you smiling about ?” she asked .

“You know you having an orgasm is not part of the assignment right ?”he avoided looking at her as his hand toyed further up the hem of her dress. 

“The assignment was to be realistic. God I thought you were good at school.” she snuck in a kiss on his neck below his ear, like she used to. His breath caught in his throat which he decided to turn into a light cough , thinking that would avoid her detection. 

“This collar means I’m a sub.” she said, grinding her butt onto his lap again. He clears his throat. “Implying that you’re my dominant. If this is going to work you have to seem in control.” she whispered the last part in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. His hand flew to her throat, thumb just lightly pressing its way into her air intake , as he pulled her head towards his. 

“I know what it means.”his voice was low and stern. Infact, the hardest part in prepping for this case was not telling the rest of the group just how much he actually understood the mission. It’s not uncommon for sadists to take interest in the bdsm and kink community but, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fill his coworkers in on his sexual preferences. She looked fragile like this, his hand around her neck, her legs wide for the whole room, as sexual and commanding as she was she had no issue letting him top her, and he thrived on that power. His first industry sex  party was going well as far as he was concerned. She leaned in to kiss him and he let out a disinterested “No.” , looking past her. She didn’t have the time to recover her feelings before he asked “Is there a private room?” 

Sure she had been forward with him, but she was shocked by this admission. Maybe he really had let that young, timid version of himself entirely float away. 

“Yes. down that hall. Any door on the left.” she steadied her voice, trying not to let her excitement be too obvious. Calmly, he pulled his cuff to his mouth “Our suspect is headed to a back room with a woman in an orange dress.” Her eyes shoot to Hotch and Prentiss, who are in their very own form of a compromising position.It was understated and tasteful but, there was no denying that his hand was in her mouth,as she sucked on his fingers.JJ was right by the door immediately headed towards the room,  Spencer slowly got up, and fell in line behind Hotch and Emily kept an eye on the room. In the end, it was JJ’s arrest and Derek and Rossi were outside waiting for her to hand over the perp. 

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

“ So what’s your kink?” She asked breaking into a broad smile as a direct result of his uncomfortability. They were supposed to be undercover as strangers,two consenting adults meeting at the party. It’d be naive to pretend as though she never had a crush on Hotch. And even worse for him to deny the attraction as well. For as much time as she had spent with him, it always manages to shock her how he never gave any information unasked. Even as she had spent so much time undercover, she never met anyone in the FBI who would do better with international intelligence than Hotch.

“I don’t have any.”he shrugs crossing his arms across his chest. He hadn’t even taken his jacket off.  She snakes her hand inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a buisness card.

“ Okayyyyy Detective Hotcher” she say, turning the card in her hand as she palms her drink. It was whiskey,he had ordered it for the table , he poured it with such care that a part of you envied the whiskey. To be cared for, to have hands like that pour into you.

“Not so thorough for undercover.” you joke with him

“I’ve been very busy.” he replies with, and you can read into it that he is disappointed in himself. Such a master of perfection but, he couldn’t manage to look comfortable on the obviously expensive couch. You stood infront of him , cocking your head to the side as you undid the belt of your wrap dress. It’s silky material rolled off of your body without hesitation and landed safely on the carpet, revealing the lingerie you had so carefully picked out for this mission. You watch as his eyes move from the dress on the floor to your heels and then trace over your body. He seems incredibly still except for the ticking of his watch. You can tell it was expensive but tasteful, not too large or flashy.He allowed you to walk toward him. You straddled him lightly, lowering yourself down onto him. You felt him exhale as his hands came to your lower back, a warmth spread throughout your body as his hands lightly rubbed your back . You rocked your hips forward and his eyes flashed up to yours. He fit his hands in the crease of your hips as you roll back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches, just enough for you to hear and you smirk knowingly at him.

“ Everyone has a kink agent Hotchner.” His eyes sparkle up at you. You can feel the twinge of interest, skirting his thought. 

“Stop using my real name.” he corrects her sternly, her eyes challenging him 

“So what’s yours ?” He turns his chin up to you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Your fingers begin working at his tie, and as you roll your hips forward again you can feel his member growing under you.

“ I think that’s convincing enough.” He grunts, trying to remove himself from under you but, you  cradle his hand and look into his eyes as you redirect it to your core.His hands immediately go to work as if he held no validity to his previous statement. You grind down on his fingers a little more.

“ You’re attracting a lot of attention now, I think-“ his whispered pleas were cut off as you bent close to his ear “ I thought I was the on-the-ground-professional in this case? I thought you needed my what was it ‘extensive experience’?” Hotch allowed himself to laugh at the use of a direct quote. 

“So getting me hard in a room full of people proves that?”he retorts quickly.

“No”, she replies calmly continuing to ride his fingers while nonchalantly drawing circles on his chest. 

“ But it does ensure that you’ll think of me the next few times when you’re alone. You will have wished you fucked me.And that’s even better.” She smiled, removing Hotch’s fingers and slowly seating herself next to him. He swung his arm over her shoulder and she brought his fingers to her mouth,placing them on her tongue.He shivered but, watched intently as she sucked on his fingers until he heard Spencer over his ear feed. The subject had headed for a private room, she was aware of the energy change and as Hotch moved towards the perp she, expertly blended into the crowd of other confused onlookers.

Within an hour of interrogation Rossi got him to reveal the location of the girls he was keeping captive. Soon after, Derek led a unit to retrieve them. It wasn’t their flashiest case but, it definitely gave everyone a warm feeling to go home with. Something the team hadn’t had in a long while. They stood in the lobby of the hotel, everyone with their own secrets,everyone trying to pretend that that wasn’t one of their more challenging missions. Everyone seemed different, quieter somehow; how’s that for a team building exercise Spencer found himself thinking.

“I’m uhhh-” he attempted to break the silence.

“Just go Spence!” the group responded in unison, almost comically.

“Wait. wait.” he stopped at Rossi's command and turned back accepting his handshake, the older agent clapped him on the back and smoothly slid a small stack of condoms into his hand. 

“Go get em’ tiger.” he huffed under his breath, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh to himself, as he turned on his heels to leave. 

His heart raced as he entered the elevator, he wanted to shower, plan his outfit, his words; he wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, how much he had held back for years. His keycard slid into the door, he pushed it open and could barely make out the figure in the dark. Instinctively reaching for his gun,it wasn’t until he heard Megan call out his name that he was brought back to safety.

“Jesus, don’t kill me Spencer.”she laughed 

“You could have been an intruder.”he laughed in agreement of how ridiculous it all was. 

“Do most of your intruders dress like this?”She stood up so he could see, she wore a garter clearly visible below her much outgrown private school issued uniform skirt. The heels and his own opened buttoned down shirt completed the look that he was sure would drive him to his grave. 

“Shit.” he exhaled, covering his face with his hand as she closed the door as well as the space between them; extending her hands to his pants. She could feel he was hard through his khakis, god only Spencer could get away with wearing khakis at an industry event.He quickly swatted her hand away, pulling her face to his. He pushes her against the wall, feeling her curves, feeling her warmth , feeling for the first time untouchable since that day in highschool. 

[fatiguing-thoughts]

Change of Heart - Paul Lahote x Reader

Request: “Hey, since you don't feel comfortable writing about the poly imprinting thing the other anon suggested, I have an idea based on what they said that maybe you could write instead. So instead of the reader imprinting on both, a reaction type of thing for when the reader had a crush on one, but falls in love with the other with time. If it is preference style, you can get to show both situations (crush on Embry, but falls for Paul later and vice versa)”

this is the crush on Embry -> falling in love with Paul version

Having a mother who was obsessed with the beach was the reason that your life turned out the way it did. 

That’s where you met your best friend, Embry Call. 

His mother worked at the souvenir shop, she frequently brought him to the beach as well. So time after time of running into each other and playing together as kids-- you grew up hanging out all the time. 

Despite you living and going to school in Forks, you guys saw each other at minimum three times a week. And as you got older, you only hung out more. Even into young adulthood.

You guys did everything together. School dances when your moms forced you into going, going to see the movies either of you were dying to watch, and simply hanging around doing nothing. It was like you were dating, but if dating meant that you were merely best friends. No kissing, the awkward touching of hands here and there. 

But overall, you and Embry connected deeper than anyone else. You would stay up talking all night, picking the brains of one another’s minds. Listening to music together, singing your favorite songs. Sometimes you stared a little too long at his lips, but that was besides the point. You guys were friends. 

I had grown quite the crush on Embry, but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be worth risking the friendship. I could never risk anything awkward between us. I have never felt this comfortable around another person before, and I doubt that I would find it again. So holding Embry close to my heart as a best friend was an idea that I was well acquainted with. I’d grown to accept it. 

Though, as time went on, he began to gain some newer friends, which was normal. What high school boy didn’t hang out with other boys? The only issue was, it seemed to tear into your Embry time. 

It was fine, really. Embry’s happiness was my top priority. But when he finally introduced me to his friends, I’ll admit I felt pretty excited. To finally meet some new people, to find friendship in those other than Embry. 

Embry was always my best friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a bigger circle. He spoke so highly of them all, how could I not be thrilled to meet them? 

So when I did, I could say that I was both incredibly nervous, yet excited. 

“They’re gonna love you.” He reassures me on our way to Jake’s house. 

“How do you know that?” I ask, fiddling with the rip in my jeans.

“Because, I love you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. They’re gonna think you’re a lot of fun and super cool, because you are.” He smiles that signature Embry Call grin. 

Friend. Ugh. Get it together, (Y/N). 

“Thank you, Em.” I smile back.

“Of course.” 

The drive to Jacob’s was quick from Embry’s considering they both lived in La Push. Pulling up into the house, Embry led me into the garage where they were working on Jacob’s project car, the rabbit. Embry would never shut up about it, his eyes brighter than the sun whenever he talked about how much fun it was, how he enjoyed finally being able to exercise his mechanic skills. 

“Hey guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Jacob, Jared, Quil, and Paul. We have a few classes together.” He points at them as he says their names. 

“Hi.” I wave shyly. 

“(Y/N), I know you haven’t been here yet, but don’t worry. I’ll quickly become your favorite. Don’t stress.” Quil walks over, putting his arm around your shoulder and chuckling. 

“Oh great, thanks.” I roll my eyes. “You really weren’t kidding, Em. He’s nuts.” I giggle. 

“Wow, okay. Thanks for putting in a good word, Embry.” Quil laughs, walking back to where he stood. 

I quickly found myself growing comfortable, no wonder why Embry found good company in these guys. They were all so nice, so down to Earth. 

One in particular caught my attention, Paul. He was handsome, well built for his age. He seemed to be just as friendly as the rest, too. 

I watched as Embry and Jake worked on the engine, peering over the side of the hood. 

“Do you know anything about cars?” A charming voice rings out behind me. 

I turn over my shoulder and see Paul, I felt a blush begin to rise to my cheeks. Why did he get me so flustered for absolutely no reason?

“Uh, yeah. A little bit. Embry talks my ear off about them, plus I have some cars I like myself. But mechanical wise, they run circles around me.” I smirk. 

“Nice. They’re teaching me a lot more, I’m probably at the same level you’re at.” He chuckles, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. 

“No you’re not, (Y/N) still runs circles around you. I’m the best teacher around.” Embry teases. 

“Well, you heard it here first. Looks like I know more than you about cars.” I tease.

“Might have to teach me some stuff some time.” He smirks. 

I felt the blush creeping onto my cheeks again, so I bent my head down, glancing down at my feet, before returning his gaze. 

“Maybe.” 

Embry looks between us, discomfort slightly showing on his face, which left me a bit confused. 

The drive back to my house was a bit awkward. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I just... I got the vibe that you and Paul hit it off really well. Which would be fine, but he’s a bit of a... player. I just, I don’t want you to go through that. He’s a great friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend.” Embry gently tells me, looking into my eyes with his chocolate brown ones. 

“I see.” I swallow, looking out the window.

I was unsure of what to say. Paul seemed like a nice guy, but Embry wouldn’t steer me wrong. 

Over the next few weeks, I began to spend more and more time with them all. I grew to adore them more than I ever thought I would, they were just as important to me as Embry was now, my romantic feelings finally subsiding for him. Quil quickly became the impish friend that Embry told me he’d be, Jared was an absolute clown, Jake was beyond friendly, very caring. 

And well Paul... Paul was someone that really left me blushing almost constantly. He hung onto every word that left my mouth, and I did the same for him. He was sweeter than sugar to me, even if he was less of that to the rest of the group and everyone else. He had a certain softness in his voice, in his body language with me. Paul talked to me like I was the only person in the room, but Embry’s warning loomed over me like clouds over the rainy Forks sky. 

As time went on, Embry warned me again. He even spoke to Paul about it, apparently. Paul had told me about it one night while we were talking just the two of us. We begun to hang out just the two of us, yet I never let him call it a date as per Embry’s warning. 

While he was at first surprised I wouldn’t go on a date with him, he was persistent because he knew how I felt. He knew the connection we had. He was upset that I always reciprocated the flirting, but was always far too hesitant to make any larger moves. 

“Embry, I haven’t seen any other girls since you brought her to hang out.” 

“I don’t know Paul... I don’t want (Y/N) to be the same as every other girl for you.”

“She’s not, she’s different. You know that. I really like her, I never felt this before. She won’t say yes unless you’re okay with it.” 

“Don’t make me regret this, Paul.” 

“You won’t.” 

Paul would hold my hand when I would get scared during horror movie night. He would pick me up for hangouts for the pure fact that he could drive me home, despite me being able to drive and having my own car. He would give me his hoodies when I would grow cold, whispering about how they looked better on me than him. Paul grew protective over me, always making sure that every adventure we took together, he would be there to make sure I stayed in one piece due to my clumsiness. Paul truly thought I was this fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment. 

 He would surprise me with my favorite drink from Starbucks when I was having a rough day at work. The way he would always have to touch me, whether that be resting an arm around my shoulder, holding my hand, or resting a hand on my thigh or lower back. All of the above sending my nerves in a frenzy. He was protective, slightly jealous. He didn’t like when guys checked me out, so he made it known I was his when he would press a kiss to my lips, then smirking at them, pulling me into him. 

 I loved the feeling of when he would pull me into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me. The way he held me at night, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world-- it was a beautiful feeling. It was crazy to hear the stories of the hot-headed boy, because with me he wasn’t like that. He was patient, kind, and loving to no end. Did he have his moments where his temper would flare up? Of course. Everyone does, but I tried to help him get to where he wanted his temper to be. We worked on new ways to cope, we made a lot of progress for him. 

He was everything you could ask for in a guy, he was nothing Embry warned me about. Everyone noticed that Paul had softened immensely, he was calmed down. He was “whipped” according to the guys, which I didn’t stop him from kicking Jacob’s ass for that one. 

“Damn, Paul. (Y/N) trained you well.” Quil teases, only to be pulled into a headlock.

Our first kiss was sweet, it was gentle. Paul’s large hands held my face like he was holding the most fragile thing in the world. He treated me like a princess. 

“Wanna go get lunch before we hang out with everyone? I’m buying.” He offers. 

“Sure, but you’re not buying my lunch.” I giggle over the phone. 

“Why not? It’ll be a date.” He chimes. 

“I don’t know... What’s in it for me?” 

“Uh, going on a date with the hottest and sweetest guy in all of La Push.” 

“Oh, Jacob’s taking me on a date?” I tease, knowing that would drive him a little nuts. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He chuckles into the phone. 

“I just might be, when’re you picking me up, Lahote?” I giggle. 

“I’m actually outside already. Surprise.” 

So we went out to lunch, and it was really fun. It always was a fun time with Paul. Going to hang out with the guys was great, though something was off with Jared. He played it off, continuing to tease Paul and I. 

Embry grew to support Paul and I, though he told me he was my second pair of eyes. He was watching Paul like a hawk, hoping he wouldn’t break my fragile heart. 

But when Jared got sick with mono and stopped coming around, I had to be there for him. He was beyond hurt when he saw Jared hanging out with Sam Uley. Why would he up and leave the group? No explanation, nothing. Jared avoided all of us like the plague.

Paul was devastated. That was his best friend, how could Jared lie to him? How could he ditch him like it was nothing?

The issue was, is that Paul had a hard time expressing his emotions. Even though he was sad about the situation, he grew to be angry. He would huff and puff, pacing the room, yelling about how Jared was being an asshole and how he had no idea what to do. 

It was fine, really. You knew that he was going through the ringer and he still treated you like a princess. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t even realize how much I was yelling.” He would apologize, walking over to you sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to calm down after your attempts to do so were futile. 

“I understand, you’re going through a rough time right now. But I’m here for you.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you.” He presses his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too.” 

Chills ran up my spine, I had felt butterflies like never before. Paul gave me feelings I never knew existed.  

But soon, he grew feverish. His skin was burning hot and he grew testy. He snapped at everyone, and seemingly for the littlest of things. I thought it was strange, as this was a side of Paul I had never seen. We had to leave Jake’s one night, as he grew incredibly protective over me... almost animalistic. He almost lost it on Quil when he started play fighting with me, I just took him out of there, leaving the guys in the garage. I was met with concerned eyes all around, but I knew Paul wouldn’t hurt me... I just had no idea what had gotten into him. 

He held onto me like his life depended on it. 

“I’m scared, (Y/N).” He whispered into my neck. 

“Why Paul?” 

“Jared and Sam... they look like they’re waiting for me. I can’t stand it-- they’re hovering over me all the time. I can’t deal with it.” He huffs. 

His feverish skin almost burning mine, just as it had been the last few days. 

“I’m sorry Paul, maybe try to avoid them?” I offer up my advice, but it met with a mere sigh from his lips. 

“They keep telling me I have to break away from everyone. That I’ll have to leave the friend group, that I’ll have to leave you. They’re lucky I didn’t kick their asses.” He huffs. 

His words shocked me, they left me speechless. Why would they be saying that?

“Why would they say that?” 

“Hell if I knew. I just ran out of there before I punched someone. I know you don’t like when I hit people.” He chuckles.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I smirk.

But I couldn’t shake his words, I didn’t understand why they wanted him? Why they wanted him to cut us all off? 

He soon fell asleep while I rubbed circles into his back, trying to soothe him once again. I heard my phone go off on the table next to me. 

It was Embry asking if I was okay, to which I told him yeah. He didn’t need to know the worries plaguing my brain. 

But the next few days, Paul got sicker. He started changing before my eyes, growing insanely fast. His body temperature continued to climb. He told me that Sam and Jared wouldn’t leave him alone, but he was only getting angrier at them and holding onto me tighter. 

“They keep saying they don’t want me to hurt you.” He would sigh, his face visibly distressed. 

And then told me that I couldn’t see him for a while. He cut off all the guys completely, and I hadn’t heard from him since; he wasn’t even answering my texts. 

Embry was worried sick about me, despite everyone being upset at Paul’s sudden change and departure from our lives. He would come and check up on me, absolutely stunned to see the shifting moods I had. 

One minute, I was fine and 110% certain that Paul wouldn’t up and leave with no warning, and the next I was a blubbering mess. Embry did his best to make sure that I wasn’t left alone for too long, as he was afraid I would become the next comatose Bella Swan. I mean, kudos to him for caring but that wouldn’t happen. Or maybe just yet, as the longer Paul was gone the less I seemed to care about anything else. It just felt like a part of me was gone, like the puzzle piece fitting my heart together was missing. 

So a few days later, I made some of his favorite soup and made my way over to his house. 

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. It was locked so I couldn’t let myself in, but I knew where Paul’s bedroom window was. I peeked through and saw him peacefully sprawled out on his bed, the sight bringing both relief and a smile to my face. But then I heard some whooping noises from the back of his house, causing me to investigate. 

I look and see none other than the infamous Sam Uley and Jared Cameron, he looked very different since the last time I had saw him. It felt like forever ago since that night. 

“(Y/N), what’re you doing here?” Sam asks with a concerned tone. 

“I needed to see Paul.” I demand.

“Go home, (Y/N). He doesn’t want you to come around anymore, he doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Jared looks deep into my eyes, his words punching me in the gut. 

His eyes were hard, as were his features, but I knew he was full of shit. But the words still hurt for just a second. For just a second.

“What the hell are you guys doing to him?” I look at them with eyes set to kill. 

“What? What did he tell you?” Jared asks, eyes widening with concern. 

“Calm down.” Sam urges, putting a hand out in front of Jared. 

“He won’t tell me anything anymore.” I hiss. “But before he stopped answering me he was so afraid of you guys! Always following him around, telling him what to do. Telling him to stay away before he hurts me! Paul would never hurt me, asshole!” 

I was fuming now, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. Paul was a tough guy, nothing really broke him like their warnings and constant following did. The sudden changes he was experiencing, he had no idea of what to make of it as he was given no answers. 

“I watched him change in front of my very eyes, this is beyond some bullshit about him wanting to leave me, Jared. This is not normal.” I stomp my way over to them. 

“(Y/N), stay back.” Sam’s hand gestures up to me. “Jared, calm down.” 

“Sam, don’t. I’m done with this, I want my boyfriend back. Jared, what the hell got into you, too?” I raise my voice at him, causing him to flinch. 

“Hello? Earth to Jared Cameron? What’s your deal now, asshole?” I yell again, poking his bare chest. 

But that’s when rage took over Jared’s body. Something I had never seen before. Jared was always goofy, so nice. I had really only seen Paul so angry, and even then-- this was a different level. 

“(Y/N), move back now.” Sam yells. 

This time, I listened. I took some hesitant steps back, almost tripping over my own feet. 

Jared’s body was almost vibrating at this point, that’s how fast it was shaking. I just stared in awe, Sam’s voice was booming, though. 

“(Y/N), move back!” He yells again. 

I bring myself to take a few more steps back, but this time I did trip over my feet.

Jared suddenly moved like he was bursting out of his own skin, and in some way he did. Sam pushed him back to create some more distance, but overall in the end-- Jared turned into an enormous wolf. An enormous wolf that snarled at me, but overall didn’t do anything to hurt me. 

“What the hell?” I blink my eyes, before running towards Paul house. 

That’s when I see Paul running towards the situation. 

“Paul, run!” I say, trying to grab a hold onto him, but he gently, but very quickly, shook me off. 

He too, burst out of his own skin, turning into a giant wolf. 

“What?” I whisper to myself.

I watch as Paul jumps onto Jared, listening to their snarls and growling. I stared astonished, as Sam looks over at me with sympathetic eyes. 

After a few moments, Sam orders them to stop. And they did, they walked into the woods and came out with some jean shorts on. 

“Come here.” Sam says, helping me off the ground. 

“Is this... is this what was going on?” I breathe out.

“Yeah, you’re gonna learn a lot today.” He sighs, clearly unhappy about me knowing. 

“I’m sorry.” Jared exhales. “It’s hard to control your anger when this starts, and then I had to lie and everything. I’m just sorry.” He smiles softly. 

“All good, understood now.” I smirk. 

Though I was still uneasy. What did all this mean?

“Paul?” I merely whisper, looking up at his face. 

He had grown a lot, got even more muscular since I had last seen him. But he refused to meet my gaze. 

“Paul, please look at me.” I beg, reaching out to grab his forearm.

He hesitates, almost afraid to. 

“Paul if you think I’m afraid of you, I’m not. Please look at me.” My pleading voice almost cracking. 

I needed to see those deep brown eyes I had loved so much. The ones that brought me endless joy, endless love. But he wouldn’t budge. 

“That’s not what I’m afraid of right now.” He chuckles sadly. 

He was still looking over my head, refusing to meet my gaze.

 “You owe it to the both of you to figure it out, Paul.” Sam nods. 

“What? What’re you talking about.” I turn to Sam. 

But as I turn my head to look back at Paul, I finally caught his gaze. A small smile crept on his face, until our eyes met. 

That’s when his jaw fell slack, his face completely softened. It was like he was stuck in a daze of sorts. 

But what I felt was good. I felt like the world had stopped spinning, I felt like Sam and Jared were gone, it was only Paul and I. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as this overwhelmingly great feeling pressurized around my entire body. This was something far more intense than what Paul and I usually had felt, and even before I thought we had intense feelings. 

No, this was different. 

I had no idea how to even stand anymore, I felt like my knees were going to give out.

“Finally, some good news.” Jared huffs, grabbing both of us out of our trance. 

“Okay, please explain things.” I look back to Paul. 

“Okay.” He breathes a sigh of relief, before he pulls me into a rib crushing hug, spinning me around. 

I felt the air leave my lungs, this actually hurt. He sometimes accidentally hugged me too hard, but this was surreal. 

My breath hitched as I whimpered out and “ow” which caused Paul to quickly let go, profusely apologizing. 

“Sorry, I forget my own strength. Still not completely used to it.” 

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

“Okay, so let me get this straight. Vampires run rampant through Forks and the rest of the Olympic Peninsula? Right, so that’s what made you guys phase. And then you can’t be around people for a while because it’s an enormous secret that only the pack and their imprints can know. And Paul imprinted on me, but I still don’t know what that exactly means, but we can go over that. But then, you guys protect everyone from said vampires and destroy them. Now you’re super warm and strong and the rest of the group you expect to join soon? Because you all have it in your blood?” I ask, looking at Sam.

“Well, you seem to really listen. But yes, It’s likely that Quil and Jacob will, we don’t know so much about Embry but it’s possible. Has he been acting strange?” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

“He texted me about a fever earlier, but he’s been normal enough.” 

“Well, you suddenly disappearing might set him off.” Jared chuckles. 

“What? I can’t see him anymore?” 

“Not until he phases, any of them. The secret is important.” Sam looks at me with empathetic eyes, Paul’s hand immediately resting on my lower back. 

“I have to disappear out of my best friends’ lives? I don’t even phase!” 

“It doesn’t matter, it’s too much of a risk right now. Over time, we’ll see what happens.” 

My heart sank, how would they forgive me for disappearing indefinitely? For blowing them off? I was growing anxious at the thought. 

“They’ll forgive you when they understand, it just takes time.” Sam nods. 

“Okay.” I whisper. 

“Alright, Paul. Explain imprinting.” Jared smirks, looking over at us. 

“Right now?” Paul looks at Sam, but Sam only nods his head, signaling for him to begin explaining. 

“Paul? Just talk to me, we always talk about anything and everything.” I lay my hand on his comfortingly. 

He seemingly melted at my touch, just as always.

“Well, the thing is, it’s not our choice. And I want you to hear me out before you say anything, please.” 

“Of course.” I grew nervous at his words, but I knew that was nervous, too.

“Well, so it happens to some of us, not all of us get so ‘lucky,’ if you will. It happens when you see a certain person for the first time after you phase. When you look into their eyes, it’s just... it’s pure bliss. You just know, you know it’s your soulmate. But, that doesn’t mean romantic, it could be platonic. In reality, it’s up to them. But for us, you’d do anything, be anything for them. A friend, protector, a lover. We just... we need to be near them. I need to be near you, and I always did, even before all of this complicated shit. I was always protective, but I can’t imagine I’ll ease up, it’ll probably get worse so I’m sorry in advance, but overall, I want you to know that you hold the reigns.” He softly smiles, looking into my eyes with a pleading look.

“Oh, I see.” I murmur, looking down at my hand for a second, trying to process the situation. 

His face fell, and it looked like someone punched him in the gut, Jared and Sam grew a bit worried. 

“Wait, that wasn’t me rejecting you. I’m just... I’m thinking. It’s just a lot to take in. I love you, more than anything. I’m glad it was me and not someone else, I am. As long as you’re happy about that. But I just need to understand it. I feel a physical pull to you, so I feel it, too.” I smile softly, thinking about when he refused to look into my eyes. 

“I’m very happy that it was you.” He grabs onto my hand.

“So why didn’t you want to look into my eyes?” I mumble. 

“Because I didn’t want to bare the thought of it not happening with you, though I don’t think I could change anything about us, ever. Imprint or not, (Y/N), you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled. “But only if you want me.” 

“Of course I want you.” I nudge his shoulder. 

After that, it was just playing the waiting game, waiting for my best friends to phase, too. I was left with so many calls and texts I couldn’t answer. Embry showing up to my house, knocking to no avail. Leaving, sadness deep in his eyes. Though, he eventually became angry. I knew he was going to phase soon, I watched from afar how he was growing more hostile, and how he was changing physically. Soon, I’d have my best friend back. 

Paul was right, he grew more protective, more worried about my every move. It was clear to us all that he was more protective than Sam and Jared were over Emily and Kim. It was easier to understand everything with Kim and Emily being apart of this all, as they knew where I was coming from. 

But, it was the waiting game that was killing me. Thankfully, Paul was around to pick up the pieces after leaving my best friends behind, no notice given. He held me when I grew sad, feeling guilty for having to leave their lives. 

Paul was unwavering, loving me endlessly.  __________________________________ Word Count: 4796

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee x Reader : (Transformers) Chapter 5

So, rather than dealing with the problem like a mature person, you settled for ducking Bumblebee. It was cruel, he did absolutely nothing wrong, but you couldn’t face him. You were going on day five without any kind of communication. It was getting harder because he pretty much knew your schedule. You were positive he picked on it, because he started swinging by in the mornings, which made it that much harder to slip away. 

Hence the reason you were now mopping your school’s hallway. Because of your need to evade the cute Autobot, you’d been coming into classes late almost everyday. You had to take the longer route to school, you couldn’t help that. And it wasn’t like you could explain the situation to your teacher. You ran the mop along the floor slowly, dazing off. 

You missed Bumblebee like crazy. Talking with him, staring at the sky, hugging him. 

You wanted to slap yourself, why did you let something so foolish as a dream dictate everything. 

“I’m done.” you weren’t going to run like a coward anymore. After this, you would march over there and apologize to him, hopefully he still wanted to be your friend. 

“Oh, hello, usually I’m the last one here.” your eyes refocused and you stared at the male now standing in front of you. He was wearing a suit and glasses. He looked like a teacher, but you were almost positive you’d never seen him before. Giving a polite smile you nod, moving to place the mop into the bucket. 

“Yes, a little detention. My fault really. Anyway I was just about to leave. I’m about done.” 

“Leaving so soon (Y/N).” The way he said your name made your hair stand on end. Deciding that maybe this guy was some type of serial killer, you gave a nervous laugh.

“W-Well I should get going, my mom must be wondering where I am right about now.” You didn’t even bother to place the mop back in it’s designated area. You were pretty sure the janitor would prefer you escape a potential psychopath over returning the item. 

“Can’t let you do that sweetie.” He removed the glasses, and you took a step back. The color of his eyes changed to an almost demonic bright red, and your heart nearly stopped when his body started changing into a machine. 

You spun around, taking off in a sprint, there was no doubt that thing was following behind. Blasting out the door, you jumped over the short flight of steps, landing harshly, but still  pushing forward. You picked a random direction, trying your hardest to increase your pace. 

You tried to fight the tears that were now spilling from your eyes, but it was useless, if that thing caught you, you’d be done for. You made another sharp turn, only looking back for a split second to see if it was still following. You couldn’t even recognize the street you were on, your only focus was running as fast and far away as possible. 

When your gaze redirected to the front, you grunted as your body connected full on with the car in front of you. Your body went right against the windshield, and you rolled all the way over the top, the pain running over your body like a wave. Your form crashed to the ground, and you let out a cry of pain, breath heaving as you struggled to get to your feet. It took you a second to realize you’d gotten yourself on an empty street. There was no one around. No one to see, no one to protect you. You were alone, all alone. 

The car before you grew in size, and you looked up, watching the way the robot hovered over you like a dark cloud. There was a sick way in which it leered down at you. 

“I’d never understand why those autobots are so fond of you humans, you’re such useless fragile things. Insignificant. “ Moving just your arm felt like a challenge, so getting your body to stand upright was out of the question. Sobbing, your eyes caught the insignia that was engraved at the bottom of his leg. The pointed edge was a dead give away. 

He was a decepticon.

“Tell me human, where is the base of those Autobots, and maybe I might just spare your life.” you kept your mouth shut, and although you were in excruciating pain, you would have rather died than disclose such information. 

Your silence was all he needed. 

“Very well, I’m going to enjoy tearing your limbs slowly from your body you uneducated ap-” a blast shot out from behind you, hitting him square in his chest. He gasped, stepping back. Turning your head, you swore you’d never been so relieved to see the black and yellow painted vehicle. 

Bumblebee transformed almost instinctively, shooting out and tackling the Decepticon to the floor. The both started wrestling, each making vicious swipes at each other. Bumblebee’s face plate was drawn, and the anger in which he struck the other robot was unlike anything you’d ever seen. He summoned his cannon, grabbing the Decepticon’s neck with one hand as he aimed the cannon with the other. There was no hesitation as he shot the beam, and it took the Decepticon’s head clean off. 

All you could hear was gargled sounds of the words as he dropped the remainder of his body to the floor, uncaring. You were still on the ground, shaking in terror of the events that just transpired right before your eyes. When Bumblebee was sure the threat was dealt with, his body relaxed, and he turned to you. His hands lowered and you could see the weapon retracting, his metal fingers forming back into place. His steps were slow and he knew it was more for you than him. He wanted nothing more than to reach out for you, but the look of horror, even though it wasn’t directed at him, it made him question himself. 

“Bee..” his head dropped. 

“I’m... so sorry (Y/N)..” The words that left him, it made your chest hurt. You couldn’t hold back in your tears. So you cried, right there in the middle of the street. And Bumblebee sat with you, all he could provide was comfort, because no amount of words would truly make you feel any less afraid. 

~~~

Bumblebee had scooped you up into your arms at some point, and honestly, you were a bit disoriented when you woke up in the hospital the very next day. You supposed the strain of it all had caught up, and your body just gave out. Your mother of course freaked out. But after the doctors assured her that all you sustained was a few broken ribs, she seemed to be more at ease. 

She practically slept there, even when the nurse’s tried to get her to get something to eat, she refused to leave your side. Sam and Mikaela showed up, and you were more than grateful. Mikaela managed to get her to take care of herself, and Sam promised to look after you so she could get a shower, and some actual food. Giving you a kiss goodbye, she left. Sam took a seat at the side of your bed, and you sent him an impish smile. 

“You look like shit.” you giggled at that. “Wow Sam, way to make a girl feel good.” He was smiling, and he took your hand, looking down at his feet. You could see the guilt on his face. 

“This is my fault.” 

“Come on, are you for real right now. Please. I just spent hours convincing my mom that nothing she did could have prevented what happened. She thinks it was just a car accident, and I hope it stays that way.” 

He sighed. “If I never told you about any of this, you’d be safe. If Optimus didn’t warn us about the interference, who knows what could have gone down. (Y/N) you were almost killed, just for knowing about this, about them. I never should have-”

“Stop it!” your yell startled him.

“No one forced you to tell me anything, it was my decision to go into those woods that day, and I regret nothing Sam. Absolutely nothing.” 

“(Y/N).” 

“I’m serious. When I found out, I knew it wasn’t danger free. I’m not going to lie, when it came at me I was..” you squeezed his hand. 

“I was petrified. I really thought that..that I was going to die there, alone. “ A single tear ran down the side of your cheek, and you swallowed to prevent your voice from breaking. 

“I understand all the risks that come with this friendship, and even so, I’d never trade it. Not for anything. “ 

It meant more to him that you realized that you felt that way. 

“But Sam, just promise me that, if anything like this ever happens again. Please...just keep my mom safe.” 

“(Y/N), nothing like this is going to happen again we’re ready this time an-” 

“Sam!” he froze, and the way you looked, he could tell that you’d calculated it all. All the possibilities of disaster.

“Promise me.” you begged. 

He let out a staggered breath, covering your hands with his. 

“I promise.” 

That was all you needed. Nothing else mattered.  

[purpletaecup]

6 ☾ these echoes of laughter fade into a distant memory

note: fully written chapter again this time, with social media half chapters coming later this week! this chapter is mainly Yoongi and we see a little bit of his side and how he felt in the past and how he feels in the present. not edited, wanted to post this before the concert so we can all cry together!

rlly important note: i suggest you guys listen to nineteen by hayley williams because i basically base this whole story off that song (and some chinese webnovels i read lmfao). It’s one of my favorite songs ever and it hurts a whole lot. I wish i could experience how I felt when I listened to it for the first time again. As always, feel free to vent/rant and tell me your theories about how the story is going to go! let’s cry together :’)

final note: IM SORRYYY FOR THISSSS don’t hate me pleaseee 

word count: 2,523

That night, Yoongi slept in your hospital room. The emotional weight of everything that had happened had kept him nailed to the chair beside your bed. The smell of the air after the rain permeated into the room and reminded him of the day that his lawyer delivered the divorce papers to you, who was alone at home and probably waiting for him. Looking back at it, maybe it was an impulse decision that he made due to the frustration and exhaustion that your marriage caused him. He grew weary and waking up in the morning felt like a chore. You were distant, he was distant and both of you were living lives going in different directions. But you loved each other, and for a while, he thought that could be enough. Evidently, it wasn’t. He doesn’t regret the divorce because in the end, he thought he was doing what was best for the both of you. He knew how tired you were and how you felt being around the people in his life. He felt the same way with the people in yours. Everything about your lives clashed and he thought that divorce was the best solution for both of you to become happy again. He wasn’t getting any younger, but you were still very young and you could still find someone who could love and cherish you better than he could.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t.

Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. He didn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret it. But remembering how you looked when he came home that night breaks his heart to pieces. Your pale and shivering figure crying by the front door and the way your trembling hands shook him off when he tried to help you up. It was a sight that would remain ingrained in his mind and his heart forever. When you two finally made it inside your house to sit on the couch, he fully expected you to shout and scream and throw a tantrum about the divorce papers. He did not expect the quiet sobs that wracked your figure, or the broken “why are you doing this?” and finally the resignation in your voice when you told him you’d sign it. He remembered, at that moment, that he began crying too. He walked over and sat next to you and took you in his arms like you were his whole world even though he knew he had just ruined yours. With his head buried in your damp hair and neck, he whispered a million apologies. Sorry for breaking your heart. Sorry for wasting your time. Sorry for not knowing how to love you properly. Sorry for not trying.

These apologies meant nothing to you. They were nothing compared to the pain you had endured to be with him, to love him. He didn’t know that. For the last months of your relationship, he didn’t know who you were and that’s what pushed him to get the divorce. You were a shell of the woman you were when you two first met. Your smile didn’t make butterflies appear in his stomach anymore and your laugh didn’t make his heart flutter like it used to. It wasn’t the same anymore. You were both different people, changed people.

In the midst of this change, he was introduced to Yura by Jungkook. A model he worked with a couple times and a really nice woman. Beautiful, even. Almost as beautiful as you, he had thought when he first met her. Jungkook pushed and pushed for him to hang out with them and the rest of the guys and the more he saw Yura, the more he talked to her, the more he began to like her. She reminded him of you when he first met you.

You were 19 and he was 23 and you were modeling at the same set he was supposed to shoot at an hour later. He came early to help the staff prepare for his music video shoot and hopefully talk to the director but he had ended up watching your shoot for most of the time until it was his turn for the set. The people around you liked to say that Yoongi fell in love with you at first sight. He often refuted that it wasn’t at first sight because he wasn’t the type of person to fall in love because of how someone looks. In private, he told you that he fell in love with you at first smile, first laugh. The sight of you laughing genuinely in the middle of hydrangeas and baby’s-breath enchanted him so much that he remained rooted to the floor for the remainder of your shoot.

The laughs and the smiles were Yoongi’s favorite. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever met. You are still the most beautiful he’d ever met, but perhaps it was the exhaustion of life that wore the both of you down. What had started as a beautiful, youthful romance filled with picnics in meadows had ended with divorce papers on a rainy day in September.

These are the thoughts that followed Yoongi to sleep that night.

☾

[nov. 10, 2020]

The same thoughts haunted him day in and day out ever since he left that next morning at the insistence of Jungkook and Taehyung. He spent 4 days on his own, working and living his life but only on the surface. Conservations with people, including his friends, remained minimal. He couldn’t stop thinking about your broken and bruised body laying in the hospital bed, and he was anxious for the news of you waking up but none had come. He received no calls from the hospital since he left, and Taehyung said that visiting was meaningless unless the doctor told him new information.

Yura told him, verbatim, “I understand that you’re worried about her safety, but the doctors said she would be fine. She’s your ex-wife, I get it, but she’s not your responsibility anymore.”

In a way, she was right. But he couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of leaving you all alone there. He knew it was hard for Jin to come out because he was incredibly busy with work, and when he wasn’t traveling for his job, he lived too far from both of you to ever accompany you in the way that you needed. In addition to that, he had no idea what happened to you and your mom. The last he heard, which was when you were still married, you were on speaking terms with her and there wasn’t a problem between the two of you. At least not that he knew of. Namjoon was on a book tour and Jimin was constantly booked due to his dance career. In any case, you had no one here. Yoongi was all you had and that was evident in your unchanged emergency contact list.

After Yura had said that, he felt uneasy being around her so he told her that he truthfully couldn’t stand to just move on with his life while you were practically lifeless in the hospital, and if that was a problem with her then maybe they should just take a break from each other. He kept telling himself that he really liked Yura and he wanted what she could give him, but he couldn’t ignore the four years that you two spent building a life together. Especially not now that you were pregnant, a fact that he had kept hidden from Yura.

When he thought about the pregnancy, everything else seemed to melt away. Despite the circumstances, the news of your pregnancy made him happy. Extremely so, albeit a little scared as well. He wondered how long you had known, and if you were happy or scared.Or what if you didn’t know at all? As far as he could tell, you weren’t showing. There was no sign of a bump on your little belly, but the doctor’s words were irrefutable. There was a baby growing in there. A baby that was half you and half him and that thought of that made him smile like he hadn’t in a long, long time.

That night, he dreamt about a little girl with your eyes and your smile and a nose that resembled his. A laughter that reminded him of yours echoed in those dreams.

☾

[nov. 11, 2020]

Pleasant dreams faded into a pleasant morning as Yoongi woke up much earlier than he was used to and felt better than he had in ages. He spent some time by himself before his phone was bombarded by phone calls and text messages from the group chat with the boys asking him when he was coming for work.

As he saw the sun take its place in the blue skies and white clouds, he decided that the day was too beautiful to waste on a day in the company. 5 days passed since your accident and he thought it was time to go back to the hospital and see how you were doing. Of course he wasn’t expecting any changes to your condition considering he hasn’t gotten any phone calls from the hospital yet, but he thought it might make him feel more at ease to sit next to you.

On his way to the hospital, he stopped by the flower shop you often went to, the one next to the park with the yellow flowers that you liked so much. The woman at the front, whose name was Yerin by the looks of her nametag, recognizes you immediately.

“Mr. Min Yoongi? How can we help you today?” She asks, immediately standing up straight at your intimidating presence.

“Just here to get some flowers.” He replies nonchalantly.

Yerin runs around the counter to stand in front of him.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“No, not really—wait a second, that flower right there. Give me a bouquet of those.” He says, pointing to the bunches of purple flowers hiding behind Yerin.

She turns to see what he was pointing to. “Ah, purple lilacs. Okay, I’ll put it together for you really quick!”

He saw her go around the many shelves of flowers to what he assumed was the back inventory of the shop and didn’t see her come out until a couple of minutes later. In her hands was a beautiful bouquet of the purple lilacs with white baby's-breath. His eyes softened at the sight of the white flowers. The sight was familiar to him.

“That would be 25,830 won.” Yerin handed the bouquet to him and smiled.

He handed her 35,000 won, murmured his thanks and left. Once out of the shop, he was hit by the bright sunlight and couldn’t help looking over to the park. Kids were running around while their parents watched them on picnic blankets.

Warm and sunny days like this reminded him of you. Spending your days in the sun, laying on a picnic blanket and eating fruits, was your very existence.

He spends only a few moments admiring the scenery of people enjoying the weather before he makes his way back to his car and to the hospital. When he arrives at your room, nothing has changed except for the fact that your skin has regained a bit of its color and the bruises began the healing process.

Yoongi sets the flowers down on the table beside your bed. He moves the chair from the wall to the side of the bed so he could sit right next to you. His heart almost stops when he sees your face. It seems like the nurses changed the bandage on your head as the bandaging was noticeably lighter, but he could still see a bit of blood seeping through. The bruises on your arms and everywhere alarm him but he knows that you’re okay and you’re healing and that’s enough for him. It’s enough to know that you were alive and going to be fine.

His eyes trail down to your stomach and he lets it linger on them for a long time because he takes your hand in his and takes a deep breath. Two months ago he could have never imagined that this is where he would be right now. Two months ago, both of you had walked away from your marriage and Yoongi honestly thought that you two may never have crossed paths again despite his thoughts going to you more often than it should be. Now, two months later, you were divorced and pregnant with his child. His eyes continue to stare at your stomach, still flat and showing no signs of carrying a second life, and he resists the urge to caress it. You weren’t conscious and even if you were, would you allow your ex-husband to feel your stomach like that? No, probably not.

And that’s when he felt a twitch in his hand, not coming from his own. He looks down to see your fingers moving just barely. His first reaction was shock, then anxiety. He didn’t know what to do and the shock of your movement paralyzed him. It was only when he felt another movement, stronger this time, that he felt the need to press the call button to alarm the doctors and nurses. You were moving, which meant that you might be waking up.

The moments pass quickly and slowly at the same time. The doctors barely made it in time to see you flutter your eyes open and groan with a broken voice. Yoongi looked down at you, still holding your hand. You blinked your eyes multiple times. The light was too bright to take in all at once. He squeezed your hand at the relief he felt in seeing you wake up.

“Yn, how are you feeling baby?” He couldn’t help the pet name that came out of his mouth. You looked so vulnerable and fragile that it came out on instinct.

Yoongi waited for a reply for a little bit but heard none. The doctor came around to stand next to you.

“Miss Yn? Can you see us? Hear us?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, wincing at the pain in and on your head.

“Where m’I?” You attempt to speak out, but it comes out broken and croaky.

Yoongi is glad to hear your voice, to hear you talk for the first time in so long.

“You’re in the hospital right now, you were in a car accident but you’re okay now baby. How are you feeling?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You craned your head towards him, blinking furiously with your eyebrows furrowed. Confusion marred your features. Yoongi was scared that you finally realized he was here, with you, and would kick him out at any chance. He was scared that you were going to kick him out of you life before he could ever see the baby that you had made together, but this fear of his could have never prepared him for the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Who are you?”

☾

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[pondermoniums]

Howl for Me, Baby (prologue)

Hello. It me. With another Harringrove wip lol featuring my favorite things:

Witch!Steve. Werewolf!Billy. Soulmate dynamics. Read on ao3 ~

!! This was inspired by @swearwolfcola ‘s art of the boys <3

My favorites of theirs are here, here, and here <3

• • • • •

In Steve’s defense…it was a windy night.

And the spell may have gone catastrophically wrong, but who’s keeping track?

The point is, he flew into the sky on his mother’s broom—Bloom-Ridge Optimum Occult Mechanics—and the witching hour fog only grew thicker. The world beneath him shimmered ever so slightly, the blanket of fog reflecting the moonlight the same way snow does. He flew lower than he should have, tripped over the top of a tree, and the next he knew, the universe threw him a bone by somersaulting his landing in a lush, untrimmed field.

Gotta love Hawkins. All wide open fields and watering holes.

Except a wolf caught the bone. Steve didn’t realize he was on a pack’s running grounds until he groaned in the equally sharp and soft wheat field. Groaning and talking to himself as he climbed to his feet, he meant to brush gold and green pieces off his jeans—but was promptly knocked right back onto his ass.

“Agh-oh!” he coughed, officially hard on breathing…as a large paw stepped onto his sternum. He tried and failed to put words together; he could only grab at the fur-covered leg that was wet with dew and mud. He croaked, “I…crashed. That’s—all!”

The wolf wasn’t growling. Compared to the night around them, the wolf’s only sounds were breathing and the rustle of fur. Which could be the only reason why Steve did not melt into the earth or explode in violent sparks of magic when the wolf dragged a warm and soft tongue all the way up his neck, from clavicle to jaw.

Steve had never seen a normal wolf, but Weres were large. All long legs and strong bodies. Meant for running and charging down prey. The tongue felt like it covered the whole front of his throat as it laved up his windpipe, the cold and wet nose contrasting hot breath as it pushed his jaw up.

And it was a Were, because the eyes were blue. Steve couldn’t be sure when he picked up on that detail. Somewhere between his watery eyes, magically boosted night vision, and adrenaline-fueled panic, but gods, he needed to breathe—

Much like Steve had been knocked off his feet, something collided with the wolf. Steve sucked in air, as much as he could while rolling over to lunge for his broom. Whatever had run into the wolf, Steve only saw the tumbling bodies in his periphery. Grabbing the broom, he swung it in between his legs with intimate familiarity while simultaneously stepping onto the foot peg at the broom’s base.

His mother would screech at seeing him soar perpendicularly to the earth, but he wanted to get the hell out of here. So up he went, clutching the broom handle close to his body until he felt safe enough to angle himself, and eventually level out. He only glanced back at the field once, but the fog already separated him from the—he assumed—multiple wolves.

Steve shook his head, or as much as he could from where his cheek pressed against the lacquered wood. “Not my problem. Fuck, it’s cold up here.”

* * *

In Billy’s defense, anything falling from the sky would be a shock.

Especially a wolf’s mate.

He would’ve been inclined to laugh his head off at the idiot landing ungracefully in the field with tree branches in tow—if it weren’t for his heart feeling like a stone turning to flesh. Like the blood in his veins had never moved, and now the ice was cracking into slush, sharply pushing through his limbs.

First impressions…after the initial landing…were dark hair and lean limbs. Moon and stars knew, his heart would move for his mate regardless of body type. But the movement of wide shoulders as he got up from the wheat… Billy had moved before he meant to. His default setting tended to be aggressive, and he outright knocked the poor man onto his back where Billy could really look at him.

And he just couldn’t help himself. Dark hair both wind blown and wet; a little bit stringy from the clouds. Cheeks red from the cold. Large eyes blown wide at the pupil like a cat. Billy didn’t have a lot of time to scrutinize his features because in the very center was a glorious column of shiny, sweaty neck. For whatever reason, the sweater his mate—mate! Mine mine…—had stretched around the collar to allow him to see the polo underneath. The collar points were pulled wide, the button within having come undone or never been buttoned in the first place…

Billy licked the open space there, all the way up to the underside of his jaw. He tasted his mate’s sweat and skin…neutral sweet and sour salt. Delicious and his. All his—

The unique agony of having the wind knocked out of the lungs crashed into him. A mixture of needs flashed through his mind—air, mate, defend, mate, attack, air—but overall self-preservation won out. All of the other needs were unattainable if he couldn’t stand on his own paws, so that is where he focused—

Only for his alpha to charge again, barreling into him. He used her momentum to go down and roll, kicking her off and rising to his feet this time.

MOVE!

His eyes found his mate in a similar state, forcing air into his lungs while managing the flying thing—

Teeth closed around his rear leg. Billy whirled around, snarling louder than he ever intended against his alpha. Like he was ready to fight her. And win.

The sound tore out of him as well as smacked him right in the face. Thoughts warred inside him as his wolf’s voice wined aloud.

Mom, I’m sorry… Let go!

And she replied, You have to let him go, baby.

No—I can’t—I won’t, he growled again. Softer, this time, but his eyes were blue flames.

His alpha did not relent. Soon she would pierce through his fur and skin, if he let her. You have his scent. Maybe next time try for an introduction instead of eating him.

Next time, next time, next time, next time…echoed through his brain.

Next time he would certainly devour him.

Although, for some reason, it was not until the following day that it occurred to Billy that his mate was a witch.

[letsunity]

Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Summery -  

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

Tatooine is hot, dry and bright, the opposite of Kamino. She stayed by Hunter's side, inquisitively looking at everything around her. Everything was new and interesting; she wanted to learn everything. The heat emanating from the suns above bore down, drying out her mouth and cracking her lips.

The market was bustling with aliens of all kinds, from giants to dwarves, each with their own story. Everybody had their own experiences, which fascinated Omega, as she had none. She hadn't even experienced dirt until recently.

 "I don't think credits are enough here," Echo sighed, irked by the constant rise in temperature. "Not to mention the place is infested with lowlifes."

 "Considering how Pantora went, we fit right in," Tech continued blankly, earning an eye-roll from the cyborg. "It's possible we'll have to do a job in exchange for supplies."

 "As much as I don't want to agree, it looks that way," Hunter said, nodding slightly. "It's not like we can go to Jabba the Hutt for a job, though. There aren't a lot of people who won't turn on us in a second."

Although it was important, she struggled to pay attention.

The crowd became thick like an ocean, slamming against the group. Something was going on, and whatever it was, Omega wanted to see. Wrecker picked her up, sitting her on his shoulder so she could see above the rest. From the looks of it, a man was duelling someone else, the fight brutal and lawless.

Whoever they were, they must be important, given the crowd. Several people bumped into Wrecker, betting on who'd win. One shoved him hard enough to cause Omega to fall off, angering the hulking clone. Unsurprisingly, this led to another fight, which Hunter and Echo tried dragging him away from.

She wasn't sure why, but he'd been a little more aggressive as of late. Maybe it was because they're hungry? That would make sense. Hunger made people act weird.

People from the first fight got involved in Wrecker's, creating a cacophony of chaos and excitement. As people hurried to surround them, they shoved Omega away, pushing her from side to side. Before she could try fighting back, somebody else shoved her down, sand seeping into her clothes and hair.

She pulled her hand, avoiding it being crushed by someone's boots. Anytime she tried to move, someone walked over her or into her. They didn't have a care in the world that she was in their way, so she stayed put, waiting for it to dissipate.

The moment it seemed safe enough to get up, a Rodian sneered in disgust, thinking she was some slave. Revolted by her, the Rodian kicked the humanoid thing, wanting it away from him.

 "Big mistake," hissed someone behind him.

As Omega rubbed her eye, trying to remove the sand, she could make out a hand.

Embo helped the child stand, asking if she was alright. She didn't understand him, so he helped wipe some sand from her eye, looking to Bossk.

The Trandoshan licked blood from his claws, finished with the Rodian pest. With Marrok grunting beside him, Embo requested that he talk to her.

Bossk knelt, looking over the girl. Her condition and clothing meant she wasn't from here and couldn't be more than around ten. The kick would bruise, but he didn't feel any broken bones.

 "Where's your family?" Bossk hissed, looking around for someone like her.

She wouldn't say, closing up. A wise decision, given how hostile Tatooine is to foreigners.

 "Alright. We'll give you a place to stay while we look for your family or friends. You look dehydrated, and you could get sunburnt. I'm Bossk, and that's Embo, plus his mutt Marrok."

Embo protested to the insult of his fuzzy son. Bossk rolled his eyes, not understanding his attachment to the oversized Massiff.

Omega hadn't met a Trandoshan before, although she was aware of them. She didn't know what Embo was, nor his animal companion. She didn't want to follow them, but she didn't know what else to do. Unlike the orange helmet lady, they actually helped her. Her eye hurt, but Embo's assistance made it tolerable.

They waited patiently for her to decide, their presence scaring off some people. The Trandoshan offered a hand, his arm creepily long. Though hesitant, she just wanted to go home, and they were all she had. Hesitantly, Omega took the reptile's hand. Instead of clasping back, his hand was relaxed, giving her control.

Gently, they walked beside her, Marrok walking behind them. They were purposefully slow, doing it for her sake. So far, they were nicer than the mean lady.

Embo spoke to Bossk in a language she didn't know, the Trandoshan making several expressions she didn't understand. She wanted to understand, but that would take a while.

They led her to a house-like location, opening the door for her. Embo mumbled something to Bossk and left, presumably to find her friends.

The reptilian motioned for her to sit, pointing to a large table belonging to a cantina. As Omega sat down, she examined the location, understanding it to be a home base of sorts. There were locker-like contraptions in the walls with symbols etched into each one. Bossk opened one, likely his, and tossed a bottle to her.

As Omega opened it, a funny smell ran through her nose and assaulted her tongue. Instead of waiting for her, he took one himself and drank it, a long tongue licking his scaled lips afterwards.

She took a sip, feeling cold water trickle down her oesophagus. She didn't realise how thirsty she was.

 "What's your name, kid?" Bossk asked, sitting across from her.

 "I'm Omega. Thanks for the water, mister."

 "My nephew and I have a strict code about children. If there's one in need, it'd be wrong to turn them away. Embo's adopted the same code since working with us," he said casually, looking at her clothing. "You aren't from around here. What brings your pals to the sandy rectum of the galaxy?"

 "We needed to get supplies. We were meant to get them on Pantora, but a mean lady with an orange helmet got in the way. She had red strings in her hair, too."

He nodded, aware of the woman Omega described.

"Fennec Shand. She's fairly new to the Bounty Hunting game, more of the assassin type. Someone must want you bad if they hired her. You don't have to worry about me, though; I don't do bounties with kids."

The door opened as two more entered. There was a man with cloth around his head and C-Assassination Droid. They stared at the girl, surprise on the man's face, and they slowly looked at Bossk. Apparently, this wasn't the first time he'd brought a kid back.

Bossk introduced her to Dengar and Highslinger, part of his group. Dengar sat down, shoving the Trandoshan to make more room. The reptile hissed, but Dengar waved it off, seemingly afraid of nothing.

"What is it with you lot and adopting kids, huh?" Dengar joked, getting a growl from the reptile. "Don't give me that, grumpy. Don't urate yourself or whatever you do."

The droid spoke up, essentially calling Dengar a moron. Bossk nodded in agreement, pushing Dengar off his seat. The man casually got up, used to the Trandoshan's friendliness, or lack thereof.

They reminded her of Hunter and the others.

 "Be a good moron and look for her friends. What're their names?"

 "Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Tech. They've got an Omicron shuttle, Havoc Marauder," she named, eager to reunite with them.

 "Omicron, huh? That'll be an easy find. You don't see a lot of those hovering around these days," Dengar assured, walking back outside. Highslinger provided a robotic wave, following the tanned cyborg.

"It's a big place. In the meantime, have a nap while I make some food. You look like you could do with some."

They weren't anything like the mean 'Fennec'.

Bossk watched over the girl, pausing as she fell into a deeper sleep than either anticipated. Slowly, he lifted her, holding her against his warm body. She was underweight, having near to no muscle on her at all. Poor thing was exhausted.

Her clothes were old and tattered, having seen far better days, and her boot soles were near non-existent from wear. Not just that, but her clothes were Kaminoan, which worried Bossk.

Slowly, the Trandoshan walked out the back, stepping into the Slave-1. The smell of saltwater seared his nostrils, but it helped Bo sleep. Since Jango died, he couldn't sleep without the smell of Kaminoan oceans, even though he hated the planet. He felt her breathing changing like she was more comfortable.

That confirmed that she was from Kamino. It was good that she wasn't there anymore, but still.

Carefully, Bossk pulled out a makeshift bunk, having set it up for Jango many times. The man overworked himself, often falling asleep in the cockpit. It was something that Bo inherited, the little scamp, so much like his dad.

Every day, Bossk missed that asshole more and more. Even the grump of Cad Bane missed Jango's enthusiastic crazy, and weirdly, Jabba took it worse than Bossk, and Jango was his brother. Not even as a close friend, he was raised by Jango's adoptive parents.

He couldn't imagine how mom was doing. She struggled with Jaster died, but with Jango gone as well? He couldn't fathom it.

As Bossk placed the sleeping girl into the makeshift bunk, several questions clouded his mind. What did Fennec want with this kid? She was as normal as Bossk had ever seen, just a plain child. For the likes of Fennec to be sent after her, things were serious. Before leaving her, he made sure to tuck a blanket over her, keeping her secure.

Concerned, Bossk checked her bounty, and unsurprisingly, the Kaminoans issued it. When it came to those lunatics, he loved the idea of getting in their way. Helping her meant upsetting them, which was good.

In the meantime, they'd have to find her friends. They were probably worried sick for her.

When Bossk exited the Slave-1, he found Embo waiting for him.

 "She's asleep. She'll have a black eye, but nothing too severe. What've you found?"

 "Someone saw the kid with four men in altered clone trooper armour, all with skulls painted on. Apparently, similarly-armoured hooligans were sighted on Pantora recently. Think they're clones?"

 "We shouldn't rule it out. Get Derrown or Black Krrsantan to find their ship; I'm sure Dengar's getting pissed somewhere. Do what you do, Em."

Embo nodded, whistling for Marrok. As they set off, Bossk wondered what the Kaminoans could be up to. From Ventress' info, before she died, they were out of fresh Jango Juice. There's no telling what the hell they're thinking.

[shinglescat]

Ugh, gotta take a break from the doomscrolling.

Really love my Iskur chair, tho I wish I ordered the XL option - not because I physically need the XL option, but rather... I have this habit of sitting like a retard - six years in a dining chair will do that to you. Ordered mine in fabric, and it’s awesome. 

The lumbar thingy is a game changer, but I wish the seat was a lil bit longer. Overall, the chair is... WELL, I expected a cloud, instead got a rock, but man the firmness grows on you. Mom was concerned, my body may not like the hard surface to sit on, yet it kinda works?

The armrests suck. Design sucks, but I guess that’s common for GaMiNg rAcInG cHaIrS. I wish they were more like in your ordinary armchairs instead of these tiny islands on sticks - my headphones cable keeps roping itself around the left armrest, and it pisses me off - don’t wanna damage that audio jack in the mobo (also, fuck wireless garbo, period). The 4D thingy is great and yada-yada, adjustability is top notch, just for the love of god, why THEY SO SHORT I NEED ME MORE ARMREST SPACE.

The head cushion is a total trash... well, for my height, I presume. Being 172, it’s more of a nuisance than help, BUT it comes to use when reclining, I give it that. Apparently, it’s memory foam? Just wish it was a different pillow, like the one they sell with Enki.

MAN, the controls of the chair are top notch. You can literally do whatever with it, I was so impressed. The dials and doodads - they’re stiff at first, and it feels like you’re going to break something if you push too hard, but they come loose after the first try. After assembly, I felt like I was slipping from the seat forward, but after messing with it - you can lock it into whatever position you want. THO, given I made it recline a bit to accommodate for my feeling of slipping, I wish the spine of the chair would move forward just a bit, but it is easily fixed with the lumbar thingy... but I really wish for the back to move forward just a bit. Tiny bit. 

The base of the chair is METAL, AAAAAAAAAAAAA. The ones we had before (the director type chairs) were all shit-grade plastic that... you may guess what happened to them. This one tho - you can kill with it, you can throw it, you can nuke it - idk, it’ll withstand anything.

The assembly wasn’t difficult, tho one’s supposed to “2 player multiplayer” it, their words, not mine. FUCKING SHIT, it’s heavy. Okay, the box it comes in is fucking HUGE, also of non standard dimensions, and it barely made it into our car. AND WE PICKED A CAR WITH A HUGE TRUNK (okay, mostly we picked the car because I’m Mazda-fan and MOSTLY because of that divine red coat, but the clearance, engine and drivetrain also contributed to the purchase. But mostly the red coat. And it’s a Mazda. Call me retard). The guys from the store barely managed to put it inside the trunk, and I had to lower the back seats as well, jeez. Mom threw a short glance at the box and thought it’s tiny, until she had to look at it again at a stoplight, lmao, said I should’ve ordered it with delivery. BUT MOM, you’re always against the deliveries, you don’t want to pay exxxxtra. So the chair is around 30 kilos, I’ve back pain, and... we had to somehow move it to our flat. Man, was that an adventure: you can’t grab it in any way, it’s cold outside and dangerously slippery, it’s totally not for women to handle it as well, and mom have not yet recovered after breaking her forearm. AAAAAAAAA. Asked a teen guy to help us get it to the elevator, and had to push it all the way to the flat myself, those platformer games style. And in the process of lifting it to the elevator I managed to hurt my back again. Congrats to myself. So I unpack it in the corridor, get a HUGE WELCOMING LETTER THE SIZE OF THE BOX with assembly guide on the other side, start taking shit out... Razer really outdid the packaging, didn’t they? Protective foam everywhere.  So I start putting it together. God fucking dammit, that back of the chair is the heaviest shit I ever lifted, followed closely behind by that metal base. An hour later, and I had it put together by myself, totally alone with the exception for the annoying nakey-nosey kitten. Ugh, the guys at the store asked, who was the lucky guy to get such an expensive present. Me. It’s a me. Me, myself and I. A gift for my poor lower back after all these years. Oh, and just noticed after writing these words, that the tailbone part is sitting correctly in the chair for once, nice.

So yeah, enjoying the chair while it lasts.

[angelguk]

→ (better) left unsaid — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 2.8k

genre: angst + pining + best friends au + yes i stole a whole song from terrace house 2019-2020 (thank you kenny for the lyrics and risako for inspiring the song) + lead singer of an indie band!jk + based on (roughly) 2 requests + i slightly altered the song kenny wrote please don’t judge me 4 my song writing skills + listen to the soundtracks it enhances the experience

soundtracks: why can’t i have you, gloria laing + angela, flower face

Jeongguk looks ethereal. Even from your position in the crowd, you can’t help but slip into a state of awe over the way the golden stage lights falter through his tousled curls. He glows, up there. An angel with a guitar and a charming smile. The music moves with him, gliding from the swift skip of his hand across the strings, coaxing out a melody that fluxes through you. You’ve heard this song a million times - he’d played it just for you before he ever hopped on the stage and began singing out those lyrics for everyone else in this cramped hall. And yet, tonight feels like the very first time. Neither of you had anticipated this type of turn out. In this small town, events like this made little impact; nobody cared about a loud boy and his even louder band. They were an invisible ripple in the lake of ordinary life. But not tonight. Tonight they are everything. There are people in this hall that you’ve never even seen before. You’d heard mumbles about someone driving in from the town over. Whispers of someone mentioning streaming them on Spotify. A girl squealing over a picture Taehyung posted on his Instagram moments before the show kicked off. It’s strange, gazing up at the boy you’ve known for over a decade in this sea of bodies that jostle you around. You feel a little faceless, a little distant. Like a lump of driftwood. But your eyes don’t leave him - they can’t. He just looks so perfect up there. Like he belongs on that stage, beneath the heat of those lights, singing his heart out through songs he wrote on the floor of your bedroom.

It’s bittersweet. This moment. And perhaps that’s why you start crying.

You don’t notice the tears until some girl nudges your shoulder, wordlessly passing over a packet of pocket tissues. Her gaze is sympathetic. You mumble a thank you and wipe away your tears with the back of your hand instead.

“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” She tries instead. She has to lean in to your space to utter those words over the sharp rapping of Taehyung’s drums. Jeongguk silvery timbre can't drown out the shrill of her voice in your ear.

“Yeah. They are.” You choke over those words but you act like you don’t. The wan smile on her lips falters for a second before she swiftly picks it up. And then she’s opening her mouth again. You’d like it if she closed it instead. Something about this conversation is tainting the brilliance of this moment.

“My friends and I are gonna try and meet them after the show. Do you wanna come with us? I bet that’ll cheer you up.” You barely hid the scoff that slips from your throat. The little “I know them” sits smugly on your tongue. But you don’t want to give her that piece of information. She’d begin pestering for behind stage access immediately. And from her incapacity to read the hostility in your gaze you can tell she's persistent. That or just incredibly dim. 

“No, thank you,” you say instead, handing back the pocket tissues. It’s in that instance that you properly take a look at her. Dainty smile, long straight hair, bright brown eyes and a figure you can notice without your gaze even dipping downwards. Jeongguk would like her. He always ended up liking girls like her.

She just gawks at you, a brief moment of confusion clouding over her features before she huffs and turns back to her friends. You don’t miss the way she pointedly aims her back in your direction, despite your bodies being right next to each other. You can’t even bother to pretend to care because you don’t. Your eyes float back to the stage before your brain can even register it. The song is nearly over, beads of sweat already forming along his hairline. Even with exhaustion dragging over him, Jeongguk looks good. He always looks good. Effortlessly so. And when he finishes the song with a little shake of his head and a pleasant note that pulls a vein along his neck with his eyes locked on the crowd, you feel it. A dangerous spark that pangs through your chest. Fast and hard and aching to be heard. You deafen it with the earsplitting roars of the audience, a remark from the girl beside you sailing over your head.

“He’s so hot.”

The short sentence is possessive enough for you to guess her intentions for attempting to go backstage with clarity. But she’s not wrong either. Jeongguk is hot. He’s always been hot. Hot even when he accidentally stained his scalp purple when he dyed it for the first time. Hot when he’s got an old stain marring his grey sweatpants. Hot when he’s camped on your couch playing video games when his house is right next door and the couch in there is empty. Hot when he’s dumping a whole pack of Hot Cheetos down his throat. Hot when he’s crawling into your lap, requesting for a post maths homework cuddle session for recovery purposes. Hot when he flings rocks at your window and asks you to come outside when he could just send you a text.

(Yes, he broke your window once. No, your mom didn’t come for his neck like she would have if you had done it - all because Jeongguk was the son she never had).

It makes the pang in your heart hurt even more. Because you’ve always looked at Jeongguk through that lens - even though you tried your best to never see him that way. And you’re sure he’s never seen you in that light. 

Except once - once you thought you saw him look at you like that. Like you were his entire world. And he never wanted to lose you. You remember it vividly; it's embedded in your memory. A slither of hope that spurred the fire in your heart. Just that one moment. It’s all you ever needed. It’s all you ever wanted.

“New York?” There was a lilt of incredulity in his tone, followed by a quick straight snap of his spine as he examined your gaze. “You’re leaving for New York?”

You hadn't been able to say yes, your throat sealed with sentiments you’d never dared to express. So you hummed instead, the minute sound accompanied with a brief nod of your head. 

He’d fallen silent, still looking at you as if you’d sprouted a second head and started levitating. And then his eyes hit the floor, soft curls tumbling into his line of vision, a strange stillness descended upon the both of you.

“New York.” He’d said it again as if murmuring it would make it any less true.

“It’s a great school, Jeongguk. I didn’t even think I would get in.” That’s a lie. You did think you had a chance to get in. You would have cried if you’d opened the email to a rejection letter instead of an offer one. But the despondency that had slunk over Jeongguk’s face made you hold onto your words. The fact that he still hadn’t congratulated you spoke wonders.

“Oh. Well, congratulations.” He had read the expectancy in your tone but there’s no jubilance in his. And when he next glanced up his gaze was guarded, like he’s hiding something from you. “If there’s anyone that deserves it, it’s you.” But he said it with his eyes trained on the wall behind you.

For some reason that didn’t feel compliment. And when you had attempted to launch into an explanation about the school and its perfect Co-Op program and all the things you couldn’t wait to experience, Jeongguk had halted you, spiralling into a monologue about the new song he’d written the day before. You couldn’t get another word in before he tugged his guitar into his lap and strummed out a melody. He was usually like that - but just for that day. Just for that one day, you expected more from him. 

And then he’d given it to you. When he finally had to leave, he’d looked at you for a moment. A long moment. Something swimming behind the honey of his eyes. The sigh that fell from his lips was heavy, weighted down with words you felt trapped in your chest. The hug he’d pulled you in was tight as if Jeongguk was grappling for the words he longed to put his thoughts into. His chest pressed flushed into yours, an odd erratic beating echoing between the two of you. But the moment his arms lifted from your waist, whatever was ruminating in his head was gone. Vanished into thin air; nothing but a phantom in your room.

Remembering that doesn’t help the pain gripping at your heart. Because today was your last day at home. You had to leave tomorrow in order to make it in time for Orientation Week. This was your very last night with him - the ending of your last summer with him. Summer had been summer; saturated with memories you’ll reminisce over on nights alone, even before your age reveals itself in the wrinkles of your skin. But something about it had felt lacklustre. Perhaps it was the distance Jeongguk kept from you, a sudden barrier erected in the middle of your friendship. He'd spent less time in your home, preferring to crash over at his band-mates or just avoid you altogether. You still gravitated towards each other whenever you happened to be at the same place, an invisible thread stringing your souls together. Yet, Jeongguk still held you afar, despite your attempts to tug him closer. Which is all you ever wanted to do - hold him closer.

The final soft note of the song is strung out, suspended over the crowd like reminiscents of silage. It coaxes you out of your thoughts, gaze gravitating towards the stage. There’s a jolt in your system when your eyes lock on Jeongguk’s. He’s staring at you hard, a strange determination lingering in the way he looks at you. You don’t even hear it, the thunderous applause that spills from the crowd too caught in deciphering what his eyes are telling you. Jeongguk does though, body falling lax at approval from the audience. His fingertips stay fiddling with his guitar as he launches into a transition speech, the smile on his face radiant. You let the words drone over you, mind commemorating the happiness that illuminates his face at this moment. Nothing can describe the bashful blush rising underneath his golden skin and the bright star-like glimmer in his eyes but you try your best to commit this to your memory. Jeongguk looks effervescent up there. Burning like a star on the verge of a supernova.

“This next song,” Jeongguk states, the baritone in his voice filling your chest. “Is for someone I hold dear to my heart. It’s a new one, and I hope you love it as much as I do.” That catches your attention. Jeongguk hadn’t played anything new at rehearsal. He hadn’t shown you any new lyrics either. There’s a sudden heat building in your chest - but you can’t distinguish whether it’s from betrayal or excitement.

Jeongguk gaze skips over you, and then he sighs, a soft sound that echoes from his microphone. “Sometimes, I find it hard to say what I feel. Especially when I feel strongly about something - or someone. I end up keeping it all to myself. But, I would just like to say, to the person who this song is for, I mean every word of it. I hope you don’t mind me saying it in a song,” There’s a huff of a laugh fumbling out of his mouth, “I just can’t find the courage to say it to you in person.”

It’s like your brain stops. Every function halted. You don’t miss the pointed glance he gives your way before he starts strumming again. Taehyung follows the rhythm, his drums producing a beat that syncopates with the thrumming of your heart. You’ve never heard him play those chords before, your palms already growing clammy as your eyes glue themselves to the stage. 

When his mouth drops open, a delicate note gliding from his lips, your heart stops. 

“Those nights you can’t sleep

I can see you’re feeling 

Alone tonight, alone tonight

In exchange for those dark nights,

Without shining stars,

I’ll be your light, be your light.”

Your head feels hot; eyes warm with the torrent of tears you struggle to hold back. The crowd is silent, swaying along to the comforting sound of Jeongguk’s voice. You can barely breathe, throat clogged with the myriad of emotions you can’t organise in your head because all you can hear is the loud frenetic beating of your heart. It doesn’t help that Jeongguk’s gaze does not stray from your own, steady despite the tremor you notice in the fingers plucking out the chords of this song. Your song. It’s evident from his direct stare that he’s singing it to you. And you don’t know what to make of it. There are too many people in this jammed hall for you to let your feelings reveal themselves, but the faint smile tugging at your lips is enough for Jeongguk to keep going, a strange burst of confidence ebbing through his chest. He projects the chorus loud and clear. The words gently glide through the air, wrapping themselves around your heart.

“Wherever you are,

Whatever time of day,

I’ll run to you,

I’ll be there for you,   

Tonight and forever.”

You’re suddenly aware of the new wetness covering your cheeks, a tiny sob drifting from your throat as your palm roughly wipes at the tears in your eyes. It’s sudden, this ardent rush of adoration that saturates your system. So fast that you nearly choke again, blatantly ignoring the pointedly appalled look the girl beside you throws in your direction. The bow of your head is automatic, palm holding back the sob that threatens to escape your lips. He’s still singing, pushing past the own clog in this throat because he’ll never get another chance to tell you this again. It hurts, even from up here, seeing the shudder of your shoulders as you cry. He’d noticed it during the previous song, your tears. The doubt in him had reared its head and Jeongguk nearly tossed this song from the set list. But it had taken a lot of determination on his part to pen out the things you make him feel. He’d never been able to tell you this but Jeongguk loves you. Loves you more than anything he’s ever had the chance to love. He’d first picked up the guitar because you hadn’t been able to stop talking about Hyunmin’s guitar skills after summer camp when you were nine. And it had just spiralled from there; Jeongguk doing anything and everything to get him to look at you as more than a friend but you never did. Not once. As a result, he’d given up. Attempted to erase the lens of love from his vision whenever he looked at you. It had been hard but Jeongguk had learnt how to keep that part of him buried, too afraid to lose the most significant person in his life with the greed of his heart. Then you told him you were leaving, and he felt himself shatter into pieces.

There are people that you think are going to be a part of your life forever, simply because you wouldn’t be you without them there. Jeongguk thought that about you. You’d seen all of him; the good, the ugly and the terrible. And you had stayed. Even when Jeongguk didn’t want to be around himself, you were there. So for you to just leave - leave like you didn't need him in your life in the first place, hit like a punch to the face. He’d tried to brush it off, smiled and congratulated you when he found out, but everything in him wanted to ask you to stay. Just stay, for him. But he knows he can’t do that - doesn’t have the right to do that. You’re too luminous for this small town, and you deserve to shine with the other stars in this galaxy, not fade away into darkness.

And yet, he still aches to ask you to stay. But he'd never do that. It'd taken him over a decade to tell you that he loved you. And he was doing it indirectly too. Jeongguk doesn't have the heart to be that selfish. Even though he's hurting inside, he knows the best thing he can do is keep that little desire to himself. Let the hand holding you tight grow loose.

“How can I mirror, 

Everything you pour into me?

If there’s nothing more I can do

Then I need to set you free.”

[hiagainyou]

“Do you ever stop talking? Or do you not see how obviously disinterested I am?”

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[Name]

Nagi 凪

-› Meaning: calm, harmony, peace, concord, serenity

Obata 小畑

-› Meaning: "小" is little or small and "畑" is farm, field, garden, or one's specialty

[HERO NAME]

The cloudy weather hero: Umbrella

[AGE]

15/16

-› Birthday: July 1st

[GENDER]

Female

-› She/Her

[SEXUALITY]

Questioning

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Personality

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[LIKES] Being left alone/Being by herself, Trying different milkshake flavors, Exploring/Taking long walks in wooded areas, Listening to true crime podcasts

[DISLIKES] Clingy/Over-affectionate people, Wet clothes, Being pitied, Having to wear rainboots

[GOOD TRAITS] Earnest/Determined, Observant, Thoughtful/Considerate to those close to her, Rather talk things out than fight

[BAD TRAITS] Comes off cold and uncaring, Blunt/Harsh, Self-critical to the point of getting extremely insecure, Over analyzes and sometimes hesitates

╔═══ 🌧️ ☁️ 🌪️ ☁️ 🌧️ ═══╗

Appearance

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[HAIR COLOR] A very faint, airy baby blue at the roots but turns into various shades of gray as her hair transitions into clouds

[HAIR LENGTH] Chin length (without her quirk) Mid-back (with her quirk)

[EYE COLOR] A golden brown color, like a wheat field in the evening

[SKIN COLOR/TONE] A warm light brown complexion

[HEIGHT] 5'5"

[EXTRAS] At the corner of her left eye and at the corner of her bottom lip on the left side she has beauty/birthmarks

╔═══ 🌧️ ☁️ 🌪️ ☁️ 🌧️ ═══╗

Quirk

╚═══ 🌧️ ☁️ 🌪️ ☁️ 🌧️ ═══╝

[QUIRK] Cloud

[TYPE] Mutation and Emitter

[QUIRK DESCRIPTION] Nagi's quirk, Cloud, transforms parts of her hair into clouds that she can manipulate the weather of, for example, she can make rain, hail, sleet, snow, thunder and lightning, and tornadoes with her hair/clouds.

[QUIRK DRAWBACK] Her quirk could lead to hearing loss or migraines due to the intensity of her storm clouds/crackling thunder or may impair her vision with the flashes of lightning, can only produce clouds based on the air quality/weather conditions around her and is forced to use the water in her body otherwise (also makes her clothes drenched)

[STATS]

Power 5/5 A

Speed 3/5 C

Technique 3/5 C

Intelligence 4/5 B

Cooperativeness 1/5 E

╔═══ 🌧️ ☁️ 🌪️ ☁️ 🌧️ ═══╗

Backstory

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Nagi didn't really care about Pro Heroes when she was growing up.

Sure they were there, she was very thankful for the work they did and respected how they risked their lives to save hundreds, but she just wasn't as into them as the rest of her class in Junior high.

What bothered her the most were the stares.

The whispers that followed her everywhere.

"Isn't that Kyo's kid? The poor thing..."

"She's always so quiet, is it because of what happened?"

"She must hate the Heroes, anybody would after what happened to her dad."

She wasn't alive when it happened but she knows all too well what those stares mean.

They weren't there for it.

They didn't know what it was like.

They see her mom as a widow, a struggling parent.

But that's not it.

Her mother was so much stronger than the news had portrayed her back then.

Even with the loss of the love of her life, and her parents’ disapproval of teen pregnancy, she was still able to raise Nagi all on her own and support the both of them with no problem.

Her mom hadn't told her about what happened to her father, sure she had told her about how they met and what he was like, but his death was a touchy subject she still doesn't like bringing up to this day.

Nagi heard about the incident through a classmate, unfortunately.

"Your daddy got squashed by rubble! That's what my momma said!"

She remembers the painful squeeze on her heart, the air in her lungs no longer enough.

"Shut up! That's not how it happened!"

Her ten-year-old brain couldn't comprehend it.

It wouldn't.

"Aw is the baby gonna cry? Crybaby!"

"SHUT UP!"

She remembers the deafening claps of thunder, the way her shoes and socks clung to her legs as the rain started to pour.

She remembers the gut-wrenching way her mom looked at her when she asked, the tears that wouldn't stop falling from the both of them as they clung to each other on the floor.

Nagi didn't care about Pro Heroes but she became one to keep the memory of her father alive.

She'd make his dreams come true, for the both of them.

[jurijurijurious]

Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced...  He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling.  He needed rest.  Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm.  He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry.  So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing.  His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes.  His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance.  But that was enough.  Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks.  And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her.  There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her.  This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent.  It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens.  Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

[violetsbaudelaire-archive]

Title: The Cloud That Took the Form of a Demon In My View - Chapter One 

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationships: Background Julie Molina/Luke Patterson

Summary: After the death of her mother and the demonic possession of her father, Julie Molina hunts the supernatural with her best friend Flynn. She pursues a nomadic life until a string of suspicious bathtub electrocutions draws her back home to hunt down a ghost. (Supernatural AU)

It had been a 13-month search and nothing had come of it. Nothing pertaining to the being Julie and Flynn were looking for. They had found and removed varying other supernatural beings but not their target, a demon whose name neither girl knew. Julie was sitting at a desk in a cheap hotel, one of many in the months that had passed. She was looking at the odd happenings around the country as she always did hoping to find a lead on their demon. Where one odd occurrence happened, another wasn’t too far behind and demons usually loved to get into trouble. Flynn had gone out to buy fast food breakfast and hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t long enough to worry most people but it worried Julie. She tried to logic her way out of worry as she scrolled. There’s probably a long line. There’s always a long line to get coffee before work.

Just as she repeated those thoughts to herself again, she found an article. To most, it could be ruled off as an accidental bathtub electrocution. The problem was this was the third this week, all in the same city: her hometown, Los Angeles. She sighed and minimized the page. They were close to Arizona, a little while from LA but they had no intentions of returning. At least, not until the demon inhabiting her father’s body could be found. If the demon even still had it, Julie thought to herself macabrely. She shook it off. Her dad was still alive, full of demon or not. 

The door swung open and caused Julie to jump out of her skin. Her hand instinctively flew to the cross necklace she had started wearing with her other jewelry since her dad’s possession. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Flynn said, balancing a bag of food and a cup holder in her hands, “There was a long line at McDonalds.” 

Julie dropped her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked when she saw her friend’s face. She put the food on the table and came closer to Julie. “Was there something in here?” 

Julie shook her head. “You scared me coming in.” 

“Ghosts and demons don’t use doors,” Flynn said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, well, someone possessed by them might. Or maybe a witch, vampire, werewolf, or something else.” 

“Anything that comes in here has a death wish. We’re the most badass hunters in America.” 

“Yeah,” Julie said, as if trying to convince herself. Then, she added more confidently, “We are.” 

“Anyway, did’ya find anything?” 

“Yeah. Ghost in LA.” 

“Are you ready to go back there, Jules?” Flynn asked softly. 

“I think so. Besides, it’s been awhile since our last ghost.” 

Flynn didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s okay to not take this one. Someone else will get it.” 

“No, it’s okay. We won’t be there long.” 

“You’re not going to see your aunt and Carlos?” 

“I’m not ready for that conversation.” 

Flynn nodded. “Are we going after breakfast? Or?” 

“Yeah, after breakfast.” 

Los Angeles was a strange place for Julie. It was her home but it was also the place where she had lost everything she ever had. Returning reminded her of this but also of failure. It reminded her of the empty seats at her graduation. Going home meant she had to accept that her and her little brother were orphans now - not without loved ones but faced with a loneliness that could never end. Julie had to find her father, not just for herself but for Carlos. 

Flynn opened the bag and divvied up their breakfast. Julie pushed her food closer and began to eat, trying to find the bright side of this situation. Flynn was the first to come to mind. Even if the world turned against her, Flynn would be by her side. Her mother, though passed on, was still a bright side. Nothing, not even permanence of death could take her memories of joy and music that they had shared. The possibility of her dad being out there was a bright side. With this in mind, Julie finished her breakfast with her mind more at ease. 

Flynn wasn’t the best driver but she liked to drive nonetheless. Julie was the more capable driver but she was a better navigator. She found it easier to navigate when she wasn’t avoiding drivers worse than Flynn on the road. Being the navigator also meant choosing the music and Julie wanted something upbeat for the road. California had gotten so far from her and Flynn that it would be a day or two before they reached it. It was the longest road trip with few stops they had gone on in awhile. Flynn turned the key in the ignition and Julie scrolled through her playlists. She found a song and selected it just as Flynn pulled out of the parking lot. 

At some point Julie had fallen asleep. She blinked as she took in her surroundings. “Where are we? Flynn, I was supposed to be navigating.” 

“It’s okay. I’m handling it,” said Flynn. “You barely slept at all in the last motel. You needed sleep.” 

“Thanks.” 

After a minute, she added, “I should drive. You need sleep too.” 

Flynn shook her head. “I had a Redbull.” 

Julie gave her friend a look. “Flynn.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll pull over,” Flynn said and she did. Seat belts unbuckled and they switched places. Almost as soon as Julie pulled off the shoulder, Flynn was asleep. Julie looked amusedly at her friend. She drove until the sun rose again and they were just outside Arizona. 

Then it was a quick stop at a gas station to buy a less than satisfactory breakfast. It was time like these Julie missed her mom especially. It was Saturday morning and in a time that was starting to feel like an old movie, she would be watching cartoons with a much younger version of her brother and eating a fresh, hot breakfast her mother had made. 

“I said that’ll be 10.50,” the cashier said irritably. He was the usual sort someone would see at a gas station in the middle of practically nowhere: some old man whose love of life was fading faster than his hair. 

“Sorry,” Julie said quickly, pulling the cash out of her pocket. The cashier checked the money in the light then put it in the register. He slid her breakfast across the counter and asked if she wanted a lottery ticket or a pack of smokes. Yes, he had said ‘smokes.’

Julie made a face and grabbed the black bag her food had been put in. “I don’t smoke, or gamble.” She headed toward the door and added, “Have a nice day” as she went out. He didn’t get the chance to return the formality. Gas station cashiers have a way of making people uncomfortable, even if they do nothing at all. This one was no different. 

Flynn was waiting in the driver’s seat. Julie opened the bag and handed some of the food to her. Neither said anything as they made their way back to the freeway. 

California was a refreshing sight after over a year of navigating unfamiliar places. Los Angeles was especially so. Julie watched the buildings of the Citadel Outlets pass by in the window. She was home. 

The occurrences described in the article had been occurring in a residential part of town made up of mainly middle class families. The victims were disproportionately teens. The types of teens who bring their cell phones into their bathrooms. Julie wasn’t an expert on electricity but these incidents struck her as odd. Not many people got electrocuted in their bathtubs. Based on her Google searches over the past day and a half, a cell phone isn’t enough to electrocute a person in a bath. It has to be plugged into the wall. Then it has to fray or fall into the bathwater. It takes a great deal of stupidity or negligence. Put a ghost in the mix, however, and everything becomes more likely. 

Flynn was checking them into a new motel when the news of a new electrocution came in. This article confirmed Julie’s suspicions of a ghost and made this trip less of a waste of time. Nothing at all had been plugged in when this teen girl had gotten into her tub. Her mother had checked on her only minutes before her death. Then when the police arrived, a frayed extension cord had made its way from a drawer into a socket then into a wall. It was far too strange. And when Julie told Flynn, she agreed. 

Flynn pocketed their room key and they headed for the car. 

Usually Julie and Flynn’s adventures involved abandoned buildings so Julie was unsure what to say when they arrived at the Ford residence. She was too young to be a police officer and too old to be a girl scout. She knocked on the door anyway. 

A distressed middle aged white woman answered the door. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.” 

The woman moved to close the door. Flynn interrupted her. “We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Ford, we’re here about your daughter.” 

“It’s Ms. Ford. I’m divorced,” the woman corrected. “And the police were just here.” 

“We’re not police,” Julie said. “We hunt the supernatural. We think your daughter’s death wasn’t an accident.” 

The woman frowned. “I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate. Three boys about your age came around her an hour ago saying the same thing. They said they were looking for a ghost in this neighborhood.” 

“Don’t you think it’s weird four different teens have died the same way in the past week?” 

“Yes,” the woman said. “But teenagers are stupid.” 

“Even your daughter?” 

The woman shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” 

Ms. Ford went to shut the door again but Flynn stopped her. “Do you know where those boys went?” 

“Something about the junkyard down the road. The blonde one said something about it being a good spot to hide something.” 

“Thank you,” Julie said. “I hope you find answers” - she clutched her cross necklace - “I know what it’s like to lose those you love.” 

Ms. Ford nodded sadly and shut the door. 

“Do you think those boys are trying to find the object the ghost is attached to?” Julie asked Flynn. 

“Yeah,” she said. “But why in a junkyard?” 

“Good place to hide something you don’t want found.” 

By that point, they had made it back to their car and proceeded to get in. 

Then, it was off to the junkyard.

[bikkinibottom]

Can’t Walk Without You

Here’s a little something I wrote to celebrate 100 followers! I got the idea based off of this post here.

This is my first time writing fanfic so I’d love for some feedback! Hope you all enjoy it!

Summary: It’s the 90’s and Percy makes mixtapes for Annabeth. She listens to them when she misses him.

She took it with her everywhere now, constantly listening to whichever song that played through the Walkman. It got to the point where even if she was having a conversation or in a meeting, the headphones rested around her neck playing music just loud enough for her to still hear and whoever happened to be right next to her. Some may call it rude, but people knew to never question Annabeth, especially with everything going on now.

Annabeth remembers the first mixtape Percy had made for her when they were fourteen. It was not too long after the battle on Mount Othrys where Percy and the group had rescued her and the goddess Artemis from Luke’s imprisonment. She smiles fondly too herself as she remembers the encounter with Percy:

Christmas was just around the corner and Annabeth begrudgingly decided to spend the holiday with her family in San Francisco. Percy and she had agreed to meet up to exchange gifts at Half-Blood Hill before she left. She stood near the Big House, which was adorned in colorful holiday lights, waiting for him. Behind her led to where the cabins were, the hearth at the center of the U-shaped formation seemed to glow brighter than ever, warm and inviting just like a fireplace at Christmas-time should be. The sky was clear save for a few clouds, the constellations piercing and bright. Fresh snow lay all over camp, some of the year-rounders just beginning to take advantage of the fresh snowfall. She looked up to see Percy approaching her, his ears looked pink without a hat on from what she could tell in the dim light.

‘Seaweed Brain’ she thought, thinking of the winter hat she knit him for his gift. It was a simple beanie that was baby blue, with one black stripe cutting across.

“Took you long enough. I got a flight to catch tomorrow, Seaweed Brain,” she jokingly said to him.

Clearly something else was occupying his mind because the scowl he attempted to make wasn’t sincere and looked more like fond exasperation. Annabeth tried not to look too into it.

He stopped walking and begun to turn around dramatically.

“Well if you’re gonna have that attitude about it I’ll just be on my-” but Annabeth cut him off with a laugh and shoved his arm.

“Come on, Percy. I’ve been waiting for this,” she told him with a bit of mock irritation in her voice.

“You have?” the boy before her asked timidly. And for the first time that night, Annabeth noticed Percy actually looked anxious for whichever reason she could not figure out yet. His eyes looked more of a golden from the reflection of the Christmas lights shining off the Big House.

Annabeth looked away from his eyes as she casually said, “Duh, we’re exchanging gifts. It’s like the best part of the holiday season,” though she wasn’t too sure of her response seeing the gloomy expression take over his face.

Percy looked away as he let out a simple, “Right.”

Not wishing to dampen the mood on what was supposed to be a pleasant occasion, Annabeth quickly asks, “Do you want to go first?”

“Uh, I- no. You go first,” he responded quickly as well.

Annabeth presented him with his gift bag filled with sea-green tissue paper and he dug around in it until he pulled out the gift card she had gotten him. He flipped it over to see what it was for and he smiled appreciatively.

“That’s the skate store you go to a lot right? The one by your apartment?” she asked just to double-check and make sure.

“Yeah! I- Thanks Annabeth,” he told her genuinely then paused. “Uh, how much is on it?”

“A hundred dollars,” she replied.

His eyes seemed to pop out of his head before he stuttered for the next few seconds. Annabeth just looked at him with a confused but amused smile on her face.

“This- this is more than enough for a whole new skateboard. I- I don’t think I can accept this,” he blurted out in shock.

“Skateboards are expensive. I thought that was a good amount,” she said matter-of-factly. Annabeth had briefly forgotten that Percy and his mom didn’t have a whole lot, meanwhile, her family was more than well off and Annabeth could afford to splurge on her friends.

“There’s another gift in the bag,” she pointed out.

He gave her an incredulous look before digging around in the bag. He pulled out the beanie wrapped in a layer of tissue paper and unwrapped it. He held out the hat in front of him with a neutral expression.

“You hardly ever wear a hat, let alone own a proper winter one so I figured you could use a nice one. I made it myself,” she said, her voice laced with pride. It had taken her a couple of tries to knit a hat before she managed to perfect it. Athena wasn’t the goddess of crafts for nothing. Annabeth was proud of her handiwork.

“You made this?” he asked softly. The tender look in his eyes made Annabeth’s face a little warm but she nodded genuinely.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Annabeth said. “It’s your turn.”

“O- oh. Right.” Percy cleared his throat and placed the gift bag on the snowy ground with his presents inside. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a card with a smaller rectangular box attached to it. Annabeth didn’t know what the box could be seeing as it was wrapped but she opened the card and read it to herself first.

The card itself didn’t have many words and with the low-lighting, she couldn’t exactly make it out with her dyslexia. But underneath the message of the card, she noticed Percy’s chicken scratch hand-writing where he wrote out in Ancient Greek, ‘Hope you have a good new year. Merry Christmas, Wise Girl. Your friend, Percy’.

She smiled up at him and gave him a sweet thank you.

“Um, the uh, the gift. I made it myself. I don’t know if you’ll like it but um, if you give it back I understand. It’s kind of lame, actually-” Percy stammered out, and she could tell the red on his face wasn’t coming from the Christmas lights. With a roll of her eyes, she tore open the wrapping and was presented with a cassette player. Written on one side in Percy’s hand-writing it said: ‘Songs I Think You’ll Like (vol. 1)’.

“It’s a mixtape,” Percy blurted out, “I was thinking about how we’ve barely ever talked about music so I put a bunch of songs I figured you’d like. You can listen to it whenever you want.”

Annabeth was at a loss for words. Picturing Percy in his room toiling with the radio on, waiting for hours for the right song to come on to record, or maybe using some of Sally’s old records to record music from... It was a little too much for Annabeth.

Impulsively she jumped towards Percy, wrapping her arms around his neck in a quick hug. Backing away she looked him in the eyes.

“Thank you, I love it,” she told him. At that point, she didn’t need a mirror to know that both their faces were red now.

“Really?” he asked, relief in his voice and body language.

“Yes, I can’t wait to listen to it,” she answered genuinely.

A goofy smile broke out onto his face and Annabeth felt herself smiling as well. After talking for a bit more, they eventually said their goodbyes and parted ways.

As Annabeth boarded the plane the next morning, she had a brand new Walkman stuffed in her pocket that she had bought as soon as she left the campgrounds last night. She couldn’t wait to listen to it on the plane.

Recalling the memory brought a melancholy smile to her face, but it was very dim. Annabeth remembers how nearly every month after that she received a mixtape from Percy in the mail, each with a different purpose but all equally good. When they had started dating, the music became a lot more romantic and he would gift her one at each monthly anniversary. She would’ve received a new mixtape soon for their five-month anniversary, but now he was missing and Annabeth wasn’t sure if she’d ever get to hear it. The thought made her chest ache painfully, and she blinked back tears.

Rolling onto her back in her bunk, Annabeth thought back to the events of the day and let out a frustrated sigh. Just when she finally had some type of lead to where her boyfriend might be, she was met with three demigods at the Grand Canyon with more questions than answers. Not to mention her least favorite goddess seemed to be involved in all of this somehow. Realizing she needed to get actual sleep tonight if she was going to leave early in the morning to search for Percy, the daughter of Athena put on her invisibility cap, grabbed her Walkman, and snuck out of Cabin 6 to head over to Cabin 3.

Inhaling the ocean scent that Poseidon’s cabin had, Annabeth made her way over to Percy’s dresser, where he always kept extra clothes. Grabbing one of his hoodies, she put it on and laid down in Percy’s bunk. It wasn’t the biggest secret amongst her siblings that she would often sneak out to his cabin at night but since he went missing she made it her new unassigned sleeping quarters.

If the bed weren’t cold, Annabeth could almost imagine Percy there with her. Surrounding herself in his ocean breeze scent helped put her to sleep but there was some dull ache lingering inside her tonight. It was as if there was nothing inside her; her heart, her lungs, everything just- gone. Instead, a dark void seemed to eat at her from the inside out, and all of her senses felt numb.

Putting on her headphones and pressing play on the Walkman, her favorite cassette plays out. Once they’d started dating, Percy gave her this one and told her the songs sounded a bit like the one they had danced to on Olympus all those years ago. She recalls Percy telling her that to him the song sounded a bit sad, but a little hopeful too.

Annabeth cries herself to sleep that night.