#funny lacrosse shirts

[flowsociety]

Score With Laughter: Flow Society's Hilarious Lacrosse Shirts

Lacrosse, a thrilling and fast-paced sport, is not just about scoring goals and making epic saves. It's also about the unique culture and camaraderie that comes with being part of a lacrosse team.

And what better way to showcase your love for the game and your sense of humor than with funny lacrosse shirts by Flow society? With its unique and amusing shirt designs, Flowsociety, a recognized business specializing in lacrosse clothing, has taken the lacrosse world by storm.

Let's take a closer look at some of the side-splitting shirt designs that Flow Society has to offer:

Stickin' Around Since Birth

This clever shirt design features a baby holding a lacrosse stick, accompanied by the witty phrase "Stickin' Around Since Birth." It's a playful nod to those who have been playing lacrosse from a young age, showcasing their lifelong dedication to the sport in a humorous way.

Luxaholic

Lacrosse enthusiasts will surely relate to this shirt that proudly declares the wearer as a "Laxaholic." It's a humorous play on words, combining "lacrosse" and "aholic" to describe someone who is addicted to the sport. The bold typography and catchy phrase make this shirt a conversation starter on and off the field.

Chillin' with my Crease

This shirt design features a laid-back goalie relaxing in the crease with the caption "Chillin' with my Crease." It's a hilarious take on the goalie's role in lacrosse, showcasing their cool and composed demeanor even during a fast-paced game. This shirt is sure to bring a smile to anyone's face, whether they're a goalie or not.

Defend the Tacos

This cheeky shirt design combines two passions - lacrosse and tacos. The shirt stresses the necessity of defense in lacrosse while simultaneously making your thirst for tacos known, with a taco-wielding defender eager to safeguard the delectable meal. It's a unique and playful design that stands out from the crowd.

So, why not add a touch of laughter to your lacrosse wardrobe with these hilarious shirts? Get ready to turn heads and bring smiles to faces both on and off the field with Flow Society's funny lacrosse shirts.

[bearieio]

modern!abby headcanons

masterlist

she’s totally clingy but she tries to be suupper subtle about it.

like she’ll follow you to bathroom just to lean against the doorframe with her arms crossed (mad cuz you left her on the couch by herself) and stare at you like 🙁🧍‍♀️

you finally break the silence and go, “…what?” then she’s all like “oh- i was just waiting for you to get done so i could use the bathroom..” her eyes avoiding yours.

your guys’ apartment has 2 bathrooms…

she’s a wonderful cook 

her specialty is anything with pasta…. it’s true and she told me herself !!!! (real, not fake)

loves wearing crop tops. YEAH I SAID IT. and WHAT?!

usually wears those cropped muscle tanks in order to still get that tank top feel and still show off her muscles ;)

also doesn’t believe in bras. bras r for losers.

she was probably one of those girls in high school who nobody messed with because they thought she was mean. but she’s totally cool ofc.

i don’t think she was a basketball girlie, BUT she was a lacrosse, ice hockey, volleyball, AND probably water polo or- OUUHHHH!!!!!! WRESTLING!!! :D

(ellie was on the basketball and soccer team- but thats a story for another time)

she’s a suffering pre-med/med student. she hates all her professors and classmates, but she gotta do what she gotta dooooo!!!

i feel like she spends a lot of time in her studies,,, DEDICATION!

omg she loves telling you about all about the human body and different illnesses & diseases and how they affect your body.

“the human equivalent to mad cow disease, could actually be creutzfeldt-jakob disease! it completely deteriorates your brain and causes-“

PRAISE!!!!!! she loves it.

will probably never admit it but she loves when you call her a “pretty girl,” “beautiful,” or maybe even “handsome???????”

either a jeep/ford bronco OR a pickup truck lesbian.

either way, the car is definitely one that was passed down from her father and she loves it.

it’s probably like a really muted/faded blue-ish color

if you just so happen to be as tall as her/taller than her (first of all hmu), she’d be kind of competitive with you and you guys would always have silly little quarrels between one another. 

“bet you can’t reach the bag of chips all the way up there”

“bet you can’t beat me in limbo”

“bet you can’t beat me to the couch“ 

if you’re smaller than her, she’ll take the upmost amount of pride taking care of you and making sure you’re getting what you need :)

but she also loves when she gets to feel small around you.

she loves how versatile she can be around you and how your guys’ romance is totally 50/50, meaning both of you put the same-if not more- amount of energy, love, and effort into y’alls relationship :’)

you guys wear each others clothes all the time too. but.

its like she’ll wear your socks n stuff, but like you’ll wear her shirts, pants, hoodies, and literally everything else.

so it’s basically just you guys wearing the same clothes but like you share socks?😭

i feel like she’s most likely one of those people who listens to almost every genre.

but OKAY when it comes to country, she’ll listen to old country stars like marty robbins, johnny cash, dolly, kenny rodgers, etc.

but wouldn’t it be so funny if she was like into some really heavy shit- like imagine her pullin’ up to the gym listening to ‘what color is death’ by acid bath or like ‘mondo medicale’ by impaled… like.

idk just a thought…….😁

she never lets you drive. unless she’s seriously injured or really tired, you’ll always be abby’s passenger princes.

“make sure to put your seatbelt on, baby”

she’s like… A REALLY GOOD DRIVER. and she does that super attractive thing were she turns the wheel with her palm (ykwim?).

her parallel parking is INSANE. in one go, she’ll have the car in the perfect position, in between two other cars. ugh. i love her.

her hand is always resting on your thigh and she occasionally pucker her lips in your direction, wanting a kiss.

she’s not one of those people who road rages, but she definitely gets upset when people are cutting her off and pulling out in front of her just to go slower than the speed limit.

she flips people off too. paying no mind if the people were paying attention to her.

another thing. i feel like she’s actually a pretty good singer. like nobody knows, but she hums you lullabies before napping with you.

same with whistling. she’s a real good whistler :)

HER HANDWRITING is also super good…… it’s not like a font, and it’s not like straight up calligraphy either, but it’s just super pleasing to look at.

especially when she leaves you little notes around the house and doodles little drawings of you and herself (and alice because i love alice. she’s best dog).

a/n: also hey guys i’m not entirely sober while writing this so HOPEFULLY when i wake up tomorrow its not some complete bullshit that is just spent my evening writing.. \(`0`)/ ummmm!!

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Prompt//Get locked in somewhere together.

Liam Dunbar X OFC Lahey

TW: None?

Word count: 1469

Clara and Liam never got along. Since the first time that they met at school, they have despised each other. Clara thought Liam to be arrogant and hot headed while Liam thought Clara to be stuck up and a know-it-all.

They have been arguing back and forth for the past ten minutes and the rest of the pack is sick of it. Liam just brought Theo back insisting that he can help with The Wild Hunt, while Clara thinks that they should send him back to the Skin Walkers. While some of the pack agree with Clara, she is being harsher than needed.

“Are you really that dumb?! I mean, is there honestly nothing in that head of yours!?” Clara shouts while waving her hands around.

Liam's face is getting redder by the second. Everyone knows he wouldn't hurt her… again… But they can tell he's getting angrier and angrier by the second. “Well tell me what your great idea is, huh?” He steps closer to her “Just stand around while people get taken?!”

Clara doesn't back down and gets in his face “Of course not! But we should at least try and come up with something better. I mean, how could you be such a dumbass Dunbar?!”

Liam opens his mouth to respond but before he is able to get anything out Scotts steps in between them. “Okay. Okay. You guys are done.” Scott looks to Clara and points upstairs “You, go sit in my room. Take a minute to calm down.”

Clara sends one last glare at the werewolf and stomps up the stairs and slams the door. Taking a minute to cool off as her heart hammers in her chest, she decides to head to Scott's bathroom and splash some water on her face. Letting the cool water calm her down, her breathing and her heartbeat slows.

The door opens and Liam is pushed through, while the door slams shut behind him. He immediately turns around and starts shaking the door knob.

“This isn't funny Scott! Let me out!” he yells banging on the door. Clara leans against the bathroom counter and crosses her arms over her chest.

Scotts voice is muffled through the door “No. You two need to figure out how to get along. Me and the rest of the pack are sick of listening to you two bitch at each other all the time. Figure it out.” With that, Liam heard Scotts footsteps growing quieter and there was no longer a heartbeat to be heard.

Silence overtakes the room. The only noise to be heard is the sound of the bathroom fan that seems to be broken. After ten minutes Liam stops banging on the door and sits on the ground with his back leaning against the bathtub.

“This is all your fault, you know.” Clara states but doesn't look at the young werewolf in front of her.

Liam scoffed while picking at the lint off of his leans. “You're the one being a bitch. I don't even know why you're part of the pack.”

Claras nostrils flare. She was part of the pack because of her brother Isaac. When he was bit, he begged Derek to take his sister with them. She didn't want the bite, but Isaac couldn't leave her alone. They only had each other, so from then on she has been part of the pack. Helping in any way a human could.

It was Clara's turn to scoff. “You're right. I'm just a human, but how many times has this human saved your ass? Too many to count.” Liam rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. It's true. Clara has saved him on multiple occasions. Clara was just a human, but her fighting skills amaze him. She can definitely hold her own during a fight. He just can't stand how she constantly has to be better than him, and how low she clearly thinks of him.

They have been sitting on the bathroom floor for an hour without speaking a word. Clara starts thinking about how when Liam is quiet he is actually pretty cute. She has always noticed how attractive he was. He is amazing at lacrosse. Watching him play is truly entertaining. They have gym together and sometimes he will do that thing where guys lift their shirt up to wipe the sweat off of their face, exposing their stomach. She cant lie and say she has caught herself staring a time or two, but then he opens his mouth and ruins it. He always has to be so cocky.

Liam knows that she is looking at him. He can always feel when her eyes are on him. She tries to hide it, but with being a werewolf he can sense it. Claras looks always make him nervous, though he will never admit it. She is beautiful and smart as hell. How could anyone not be nervous around her? When they were first introduced by their friend Mason, Liam couldn't stop staring. He was mesmerized. All he wanted to do was talk to her, but she didn't seem interested so instead he did what he always does. Act cocky. Needless to say, she wasn't a fan. From then on the two couldn't stand each other.

His butt getting sore from the hard ground, Liam stands up to stretch. His shirt rose some in the process.

Catching Clara's eyes he smirks. “Like what you see Lahey?” She presses her lips into a thin line. “Until you opened your mouth.” She spits and stands up while glaring at him. She wouldn't admit it, but sitting on the ground while he was standing above her was a little intimidating.

“You know what your problem is? You think you’re so much better than everyone.” Claras mouth gapes open. “I do not.” She whines while crossing her arms across her chest. This causes her breasts to press together and Liam struggles not to let his eyes wander, as she will definitely notice.

“You do. You always have to know everything and you're always correcting people.” He's towering over her now and she's backed up against the counter again. “Did it ever occur to you that I try so hard to know everything because I'm not supernatural like the rest of you and want to help!?” She exclaims, face hard as he takes in her words. No.. That never occurred to him before. He just thought she wanted to be smarter than everyone else.

As if calculating her words his head tips side to side slightly. Then a thought pops into his head. “Well, how come you hate me then? Since we met you decide you hate me.“ Deciding to tell the truth she looks up at him “Because. I hate cocky assholes. And you Liam are a cocky asshole. ” She yells at him, throwing her hands in the air.

“So you hate me?” He asks with the slightest hint of sadness, lacing his cocky tone. “Yes.” Her heart rate picked up and he heard it.

“You're lying, Lahey.” Liam responds with a smirk. The same smirk that she hates that she loves. “In fact, I think that you like me.” He presses closer to her, his nose centimeters from hers.

“I do not.” Clara breaths out.

“You're forgetting one little detail. I can tell when you're lying.” He looks from her eyes to her mouth and back.

Lips barely touching hers he hesitates for a moment. Giving her the choice to push him away. But she doesn't. Instead she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him as close as he can be, crashes her lips to his. He's quick to drop his hands around the back of her thighs and lift her up on the counter stepping in between her legs. She lets a squeal of surprise out when she's lifted.

Their kiss is heated. Hungry. Her fingers scrape his scalp pulling on the longer hairs on the back of his neck, as his hand wanders along her thighs and back up to her waist. Every inch of them is connected.

As soon as his hips come into contact with hers she lets out a little moan. But before they can go any further the bathroom door swings open. They pull away in surprise to see Scott standing at the door with a cocky smirk.

Clara is straightening her shirt and patting down her hair and Liam combs through his. Both of them flush from the heat of their activities.

“You two figure out your differences?” Scott asks with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Both teens nod their heads. Too embarrassed to speak.

“Good.” Scott nods his head and walks away from the door frame. “Malia! You owe me $30!” He shouts leaving the two stunned teenagers behind.

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Masterlist

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader

content warnings: none really for this chapter, mentions of anxiety & depression

word count: 2.5k

find chapters 1-3 RIGHT HERE on: wattpad

summary of book: Jean Kirstein has no interest in girls. He'd tried dating and found himself often bored before the end of the evening. Competing for captain of The University of Trost's lacrosse team, there is no shortage of women available to him but he'd rather be on the field. Unfortunately for him, it's the off season. (Y/N), however, found herself feigning ignorance about her desire to love deeply and be loved even deeper. After her first day at college, her hopes for the school year diminished greatly until she grew to know Jean.

summary of chapter: It’s (Y/N)’s first day at the University of Trost. Having gone through most of highschool keeping to herself, she suspects that college will be just the same. However, she runs into an old friend and discovers that college may not be as easy to avoid people in. (Y/N) begins to suspect she’s going to have a long year at college, thanks to her picking what would be the worst seat in psych class.

note: this is going to be a slow burn with many chapters, i am hoping for at least 30. although this is a jean fic, i will be potentially exploring a connie plot line. this story will contain topics of mental health/illnesses, suicide/death, grief, violence, drugs & alcohol, sex and other sensitive subjects. i will do my best to give you a warning ahead of time.

_____________________________________

of lilacs & lacrosse

chapter 1.) first day

 I'd say the funny thing is that I'd say I'd never given too much thought about how I'd fall in love, but that would be too much of an easy lie to spot. Love was all around me. It was in the movies, the songs, it was on the train and in the grocery store. I was frustrated when it didn't come to me in highschool, when a mysterious, pale man hadn't approached me, like the media had taught me. Where was my love and was it worth the wait?

————————————-

I've known these people since middle school, of course not every single one of them, but the ones that mattered, I'd known them. Hell, I'd even been friends with them at some point. Why was it so hard now? Was it the fear of saying something silly or more simply, the fear of being less than enough? More than enough?

These thoughts kept me up the entire night before the first day of college. I'd woken up in sweats, in screams even. I told myself, college would be no different than highschool and I'd be alright.

————————-

Beep, beep, beep.

That's it, it's time.

I yawn, my ears pissed off from hearing the never relenting alarm of my phone. Panic filled me.

Why?

I've been settled into my dorm for quite some time, it was nothing special but nothing to be ashamed of either. I pull the blankets off of me and swing my legs over the edge of my bed, which seemed to not want to let go of me, but very well could have been my own reluctance wanting to keep me in place. My bare feet hit the ground and I inhale.

It's just an 8 a/m class, (y/n). Just an 8 a/m. No matter the first day or not.

I tiptoe across the cold, hardwood floor. Opening my closet, I'm surprised at the lack of options for my first day of college, even though I was the one who had done the lack of college shopping. I wasn't going to complain, I'm not the type of person who cared so much about clothing and having the newest things. I was okay wearing clothes from highschool. It's not like anybody would actually notice. A simple outfit would do for the day. A black t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and nothing more, except for a hair tie to keep half of my mess up. And shoes, of course shoes. My black and white converse sat on the floor, under my massive collection of black clothes. Pick me, they called. I grab my sneakers and bundle my clothes under my arm, shutting the closet doors behind me. I slip my choices over me and look in my bedroom mirror. Smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, I can't help but let my mind think. My eyes meet my own.

Was I afraid? Was I confident? Would anyone else be able to tell?

Stop it, (y/n.) You'll get nowhere, I tell myself abruptly.

My clothes are satisfactory enough. There is nobody I need to impress today and I'm okay with that. I'm not looking to make friends, just looking to make it through one class. I look at myself in the mirror, tugging my hands over places I'd hope nobody would look at. My steps to the bathroom are as sad as I'd imagined they'd be last night, trying not to make any sound although I'm the only one who could hear. Makeup bags sit on the white bathroom sink with various beauty products strewn about. I grab my go-to bag and unzip. My fingers fumble in the makeup bag on the counter. Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

What if they don't like you?

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

Who's they, (y/n)? You don't actually really know anybody. Besides, I thought you weren't looking to impress anybody and you were just fine with that.

Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.

My hands tremble with the mascara wand.

"Fuck, shit." My lips part before I know. Dots of black cloud my eyes. In the mirror, I frown. I bite my lip, I'd already fucked up with nobody around. I feel a growing black cloud in my brain.

No big deal, (y/n). Clean it up, it's alright.

I grab a q-tip, quickly turn on the faucet and wet it under the water. I begin to blur away my mistakes. I bring the q-tip up to my face, relentlessly poking at the lingering black marks upon my face.

Go away, go away, I'll be late, I plead.

Eventually, the gods oblige to my demands. My eyelashes, and myself, are happy. My fingers find themselves once again fumbling in my makeup bag for a probably expired foundation. Even though I don't remember the last time I had actually gone and bought foundation, I don't have the heart to check the date, but there's no way I'm going to my classes on the first day without any face makeup. I pour a bit of my foundation on the back of my hand to warm it up before applying it straight to my face. I dip my beauty blender into the cream and bring it to my face. I'm staring straight into the mirror.

Who is this? It's me, idiot. It's always been me. Stop thinking.

I tune out the rest of my thoughts before I finish my foundation. I place the container back into my bag, and dig around for my eyebrow brush. Not like I actually do anything to my eyebrows, but somehow brushing them out creates a false sense of security.

Brush your eyebrows, (y/n), nothing bad will happen today. Oh please, brush your eyebrows (y/n), you've saved the world from eternal damnation.

My eyebrows are clean, sleek, and saving the world from an intergalactic attack. Eyebrow brush back in the bag, I search for my lip gloss. It was nearly a clear, transparent lip gloss but hey if it made my lips shiny, someone was bound to notice, right?

Right.

I'm looking in the mirror, I'm satisfied. My lip gloss is good and the shade of black my shirt is, well, black. No time to reflect on that. I head out of my bathroom, which I am grateful for the fact there's nobody to share it with. I'd somehow gotten lucky finding a cheap apartment I could afford without having a roommate and didn't have to settle for a college dormitory. This, however, did have its downsides. The place is quiet and I find myself staring. My kitchen is missing a sense of home. I shake away the fact and think about what I want for breakfast.

Pancakes? Eggs? Both? Nothing? Oatmeal?

There's no use. I hate the kitchen. I don't want to make anything for myself. I don't want to use any of my good, hard earned money for breakfast. I grab my black Jansport backpack that I purposely left on the counter last night. I would have forgotten it if I left it in my room but I can always count on myself to have a good old fashioned kitchen crisis. I stand in my kitchen, looking around.

I hate this.

I grit my teeth, unsure of how to be a person without anybody else around me. I made the heavy decision that heading out the front door is best for me. My steps to the door are heavy, unchanging and solid. I shut the door to my apartment. The hallway is cold and unforgiving of crimes I've never committed.

I'm sorry, college apartment, I'll never do it again.

Another thing I had gotten extremely lucky with regarding my apartment, was that I could walk to the campus in under ten minutes, five if I decide to really put some pep in my step. Outside my building, the leaves are still green and wanting to hold onto the summer. I stand under the overhang and pull out my phone from my pocket.. The weather app tells me it's 79 degrees, which is typical for the beginning of September in Trost. Maybe even a bit cooler. I pull some earbuds out of the mesh bindings on the side of my backpack. Untangling them is a challenge but the bigger challenge is deciding what to listen to.

[play: To All Of You- Syd Matters]

The campus is bigger than I expected. Maybe it would have been smart to have come by earlier and taken a look. The main building looks like a museum, it's built of brick and there are students everywhere I look. Most people are smiling and walking with a friend. I take everything in as I walk. There's a girl with purple hair sitting at a green metal picnic table, the kind that had holes and people would get their fingers stuck in. Her fingers are free as she dances a pencil across a black notebook. The leaves are blowing and I try not to think about the fact that nobody else is thinking about me. The grass is very green and for that, I am thankful. Nothing is dead. My steps are silent to me as I near the entrance. A boy walks in before me. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with the number nine in white on it. I cannot see his face and he doesn't look back to see mine. He does not hold the door for me. Upon reaching the door, I am cruelly reminded that nobody waits for you. I am alone. The door handle is cold in my grasp. My first and only class today is psychology, because who doesn't love their brain being fucked with at 8 am?

Nostalgia hits my nose when I step inside. It's cooler than it was outside and the lockers are blue. The floor is tiled and white with gray specks underneath my black shoes. Students are leaning against lockers, some people are completely frozen in time and others are bustling. I scurry to the side of the hallway to stay out of the way. I pull my phone out and look at my lock screen that I had previously set to a screenshot of an email reminder from my teacher. My psych class was on the first floor in one of the lecture halls. The time at the top of my phone reads 7:50. I put it back in my pocket and make my way down the hallway. I am able to find the room quite easily.

Nobody stands out to me as I pass through the doorway. It seems to be mostly carbon copies of the same brainless girls who would spew about how they'd change the world with their non-existing compassion. My eyes flicker across the room, trying to find a spot that would be the least painful to sit in. I don't want to sit completely alone in the back but I don't want to sit directly next to anybody either. I found a seat in the somewhat crowded room. It was towards the back but closer to the middle section and it was an aisle seat, closest to the wall with nobody occupying the seat next to it. A girl with brown hair sat just next to the empty seat. I wonder if she made the same game plan as me. I walk up the steps to my seat and sit. Quickly, I turn my head, wanting to see who is sitting with me. I can't see her face. Her head is tilted down and her phone is resting on the desk. She is focused on whatever it is she's doing. I turn my head back and take my headphones out of my ears then unplug them from my phone. 7:59. The professor was not here yet.

"Y/n?"

My head instinctively whips to the right, completely startled. My eyes zooming across the features of the person who called my name.

God, who knows me here? And who was it that remembers me?

Her skin is sun-kissed tan, or maybe it was natural. Blurts of freckles were clinging to her slim cheeks and small, pointy nose. Her hair is brown and brushed out of her face into a ponytail, a few pieces escaping the clutch of the loose hair tie. Eyelashes dark and the bags under them too. I have to peel my eyes away from her face. She's wearing a baggy black shirt and jean shorts. My eyes travel back upwards to look at hers. That's when I recognized her.

"Oh my god, Ymir?" She smiles and tilts her head at me.

"It only took you about, hm..." She looks down at an invisible watch on her wrist. "Thirty minutes."

Ymir and I were friends when we were younger. Actually, we were really close. She was even my first kiss. We used to be inseparable but I grew up and she grew mean. It was when highschool came around that I began to hate being around. She was just cruel to me, to herself, and to others. It was draining to even just exist in her cesspool of hate. Ymir could be sweet when she had wanted to be but it was rare to receive any love or support. However, when she loved me, she really loved me. She'd hold me so tight I was afraid I'd shatter but without her arms around me, I'd have shattered anyway. It was sophomore year when she had met a girl. Meeting Historia was the complete end of us. We weren't in love or anything simple of the sort, but it would have been nice of her to think about me first, or think of me at all.

"I'm so sorry, you surprised me, that's all." I hope my eyes aren't as wide as I think they are. A smirk still lingers on her face. She really was beautiful even after all these years. Ymir put her arms behind her head and stretched a bit. There was a tattoo of a triangle right above the inside of her elbow. I wonder what that meant.

Was it just a triangle? Maybe she had a matching one with Historia. Side note, I completely forgot her and I have matching shitty tattoos, just little stars by our ankles. We'd always wanted to go to a shop together to get professional ones but Ymir's garage was as classy as it got.

"How've you been?"

"Ah, (y/n.) I knew you'd be here, I bet your brainy ass is already psycho-analyzing me." She put her arms on the table in front of us.

Would she ever stop smiling?

"Why are you here? And I've been good, thanks for asking." I don't know if I'm making a playful joke or being snarky.

"I wouldn't mind learning a few tricks to get into people's heads. Besides, this class looked the most entertaining and you're here, so it must be my lucky day." She slides into the seat next to me. She leaned in close to me. "Are you wearing makeup?" This was going to be the longest class of my life.

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[oswaldsleftbicep]

Hey,how are you? I know that you're not very atm but i saw that you had 0 asks so I thought I'd leave one here for when you come back :)

I'd like to know your headcanons about them boys in a human high school, since we already got the college hcs

anyways, take ur time and i hope you will feel better <3

the boys as high schoolers

omg this was so fun to think about lol also you're so sweet :,) i am doing a lot better, just trying to push myself back into getting my life back together again

genre: crack, unintentional angst

cw: american high school, language, mention of sex

Lucia

❧ deffo in the popular crowd, the one with the preppy boys and girls who are also all involved in a sport, throughout all four years of high school

❧ he gave off the vibes that he would be kinda stuck up and would laugh at you behind your back, but he was actually one of the nice ones, albeit just a tad bit insensitive

❧ played a sport, maybe something like lacrosse or basketball, and was the captain of his team in his last year of high school. he'd also been on the team since he was a freshman, spiking his popularity immensely

❧ his favorite class was probably chemistry, because of the experiments, or gym, because it was easy

❧ his language arts teacher loathed him because he just could not understand any of the books they assigned. he would always take things too literally or say "it's not that deep, bro" to the teacher's face lmao

❧ he and his friends would sit to the side of the class, never up front but not quite in the very back, and this mf would always be making some kind of noise, either tapping his pencil or running his mouth-- at least he was kinda funny

❧ he was on grade level for most of his classes, except for being in honors sciences beginning his second year. he managed to graduate with a 3.1 gpa!!

❧ went to all the dances and formals, and he won prom king his senior year, although the girl he went with wasn't even nominated for prom queen awkward

❧ he honestly had one of the biggest glow ups, but like personality wise. when he was a freshman he was obnoxious and running through the halls and bothering people with rude jokes, but then he got diagnosed with adhd, got meds, and learned a bunch of coping strategies that calmed him down and made him a better student and friend

❧ picked on levy in the halls every chance he took, and if it weren't for the teachers, he would've picked on him some more in the classes they shared. he would've done the same with mefy, but his youngest brother always seemed to evade him somehow

❧ had a petty rivalry with mikael, and was pretty good friends with ricardo in that they always got into shenanigans together

Levy

❧ straight-a student and valedictorian the year he graduated :,) you bet your ass lucia was cheering so loud for him during his speech

❧ volunteered in the school library all four years, but especially so in his senior year when he had a bunch of free periods. anytime he had free time or it was study hall, he'd go to the library

❧ valued comfort in terms of his outfits but he also wanted to look put together, so he'd always be in a sweater or nice shirt with dark jeans or casual dress pants

❧ had a small group of friends that consisted of people he'd have multiple classes with or was in clubs with, but he also spent a decent amount of time with mefy and kaim

❧ speaking of clubs, he was in the book club all four years of high school as well as participating in the debate club. he was also in several honors societies and acted as a peer tutor, and you bet he was decorated as hell during graduation

❧ wanted so bad for his school to have an equestrian team, which they didn't because what kind of school has that, so he joined a local team instead, which got a few snobby popular kids to tease him for being "a horse girl"

❧ he liked all of his classes, although is favorites were history and english; his least favorite was gym, hands down. he would always be doing the bare minimum and coming up with excuses to get out of the more intense sports

❧ didn't go to any of the typical high school events like dances or games because he thought he was above all that, but he was really just too anxious

❧ he played an instrument in his first year of high school, something he carried over from middle school, but he just got too busy for it and it was no longer a priority. he either played viola or some shit like the oboe

❧ his teachers at the start of every year would see his last name and get filled with dread like "oh no not another one" but they then visibly relaxed when they realized he wasn't anything like lucia

❧ was in a lot of above grade level classes, which eventually led him to be in the same class as lucia a few times. levy thought it was so embarrassing and tried to sit as far away from lucia and his friends as possible. lucia has tried to get levy to do his homework before lol

Mefy

❧ he was an enigma to like ninety five percent of the school; he barely associated with anyone, always stuck to himself, wouldn't linger in one place for very long, and no one could find him during free time

❧ this unfortunately led him to be labeled as the "school shooter kid," which never bothered him but his brothers would be livid at hearing anyone call their baby brother that awful thing

❧ he had like two close friends and spent a lot of time with levy, and he was also close with the psychology/sociology teacher, whom he would eat lunch with every day for his last two years of high school. he liked that they never seemed to mind his deep, somewhat worrying questions about life and the human psyche

❧ his first year he stuck with levy in the cafeteria for lunch, then his second year he'd steal lucia's student id to eat outside in the senior courtyard

❧ he was a brilliant student, but he hardly ever participated in class and didn't put in more effort than he needed to which lowkey brought his grades lower than they could have been. his phych/soc teacher was the only one who noticed this and talked to him about it, which earned them his respect

❧ his favorite classes were psychology, sociology, and computer science, in that order. he was okay with the other classes, but refused to take any that would draw attention to himself, like theater or music

❧ he faked a doctors note that got him out of gym and levy was so salty about it. so all he ended up doing for that semester was walking laps lmao

❧ he joined the debate club with levy, but solely for the purpose of arguing with people and being able to get under their skin and gaslight them without serious repercussion. the advisor for the club knew what was up but genuinely did not care enough to stop him

❧ for his foreign language credit, he probably took something less popular like german or latin, and he'll just be saying shit in that language to lucia while levy snickers in the background

❧ he came up with the senior prank for his class and everyone loved it and immediately had a change of heart for him like, "man maybe this kid wasn't so bad." the prank ended up being a little too much for the principal, who demanded to know whose idea it was, but nobody snitched

❧ ...which made him feel just a little bit bad for hacking the school's grade system and changing everyone's grades to a d it got fixed don't worry

Oswald

❧ the american football coach tried so hard to get him on the team, but oswald didn't trust himself to go through with it because of his anger issues. he also didn't know if he could keep his grades up enough to stay on the team

❧ also kind of a loner, but in that he didn't really have anyone who he was close with at all. he hung out with noel the most, and lucia and kaim every so often, but for the most part he walked the halls alone

❧ he was a part time babysitter all four years of high school, and all four years he worked for kurt's family, and he brought that kid to watch every football game the school had

❧ he was a below average student, graduated with a 2.8 and had to retake algebra 1 his freshman year. he had to get a tutor for pretty much every general subject, especially for language arts his handwriting and essay skills are atrocious

❧ the one subject he never had to get help in though was science. earth and space, biology, chemistry, somehow even physics he always excelled in. physics was a bit of a struggle for him because of how much math is in it, but at the time kurt really wanted to be an astronaut and oswald was willing to learn physics to help him achieve that goal

❧ by the time oswald graduated, kurt no longer wanted to be an astronaut :,) rip

❧ he found out about the votech program and enrolled his junior year. he joined the agriculture one and fell in love with it, setting up an easy career path for him to go on as soon as he graduated

❧ he joined the environmental club starting his second year and managed to convince the principal to start a student garden! oswald spent pretty much all of his free time taking care of the garden, making sure it was watered and weeded

❧ he was so close to being able to join the science national honors society, but his gpa was just under the minimum requirement :(

❧ which meant that he didn't have any chords or anything during graduation which is nothing to be ashamed of, but he was kinda hard on himself about the snhs thing, so little eight year old kurt made him an honor chord by messily finger crocheting a row of chain stitches out of neon green yarn :,)

❧ he wore it with pride and anyone who'd ask about it would swoon at the answer, "my kid brother made it for me"

❧ he was low-key a heart throb in his school, but solely for his tall, dark, and handsome appearance. anyone who tried to ask him out or confess immediately found out that he's kinda clueless and not at all the bad boy they thought he was lmao

Kaim

❧ he was absolutely that mf who wore a suit to school every day. he'd go "casual" on friday by wearing a cashmere sweater and some dress pants

❧ his mom is friends with the brothers' mom, so he was close with all of them growing up but more so because his mom told him to "look out for them," knowing he was the only one out of all of them who had any real sense

❧ he was lowkey the therapist friend but on a more crisis intervention scale than a "do u need to vent" scale. he called lucia out several times for his shenanigans, kept mefy from becoming a bully, and talked oswald down from a lot of near spirals

❧ his favorite class was consistently language arts and he could write one persuasive ass essay, which helped him a lot in history, too. his least favorite class he had to take was computer science; no matter what he did, he just could not get his code to work and it nearly cost him his flawless gpa lmao

❧ speaking of gpa, he maintained honor roll throughout the entirety of high school, and graduated with a 4.0. he was above grade level in all his classes but refused to take ap classes, claiming they were a waste of time and money they are

❧ he favored his electives a lot more than his general classes. he low-key thrived in home economics, and the teacher convinced him to take the culinary class starting his junior year and got him enrolled in the field experience for culinary arts in his senior year

❧ he absolutely was an orchestra kid and had been playing the cello since fourth grade, earning him first chair by the time he was a junior. he also played the piano and helped out with school musicals and talent shows by playing the piano for songs if it required live music

❧ he earned a decent amount of chords for graduation: honors society for language arts, culinary club, orchestra, honor roll. he now uses them to tie his curtains back lmao

❧ everyone low-key dreaded being partnered up with him for projects, only because he's such a perfectionist and would make damn sure everyone did their part of the project and did it correctly

❧ absolute teacher's pet though, all of them loved how diligent and intelligent he was, making him the high school version of a teacher's assistant

❧ my school didn't have this, but he would absolutely have been hall monitor. he was, however, almost elected student body president despite not running, his class just nominated him lol

❧ much to his dismay, he was elected vice president of the student body and was put in charge of organizing student events. planning prom almost gave him grey hairs at the ripe age of seventeen

Mikael

❧ he didn't really fit in with a particular crowd, so i guess you could call him a wallflower in that sense? he was kinda a loner, but didn't give off the typical "loner" vibes

❧ very quiet, always got his work done on time, and always did his work exceptionally well, which made him a straight-a student as well

❧ he very well could have been the top of his class, but his lack of participation in class discussions and such knocked his grades down slightly. he always preferred to work alone, hated presentations, and never elaborated his verbal responses

❧ the one exception to him working alone was if noel was in his class; he knew that noel would be reliable and would just want to get the assignment over, and he wouldn't talk his ear off

❧ some of his teachers understood that he just wasn't comfortable and made an exception or didn't deduct points because they saw how eloquent his written responses were, but there's always those few teachers that just don't care lol

❧ he graduated with a 3.9 unweighted gpa, and he took several honors and even a few ap classes on top of being in science national honors society and national art honor society twin; he's a smart cookie

❧ his favorite classes were astronomy and art, he loathed gym and, despite him being good at math, he just could not understand geometry. he chose latin as his world language, although i could also see him taking greek if his school offered it

❧ he took ap psychology and ap world history, amongst a few others, and the exams annihilated him; he would have been elated to get a 3, but was beyond shocked when he saw he got a 4 on all of them

❧ his immense knowledge about the christian religion and the bible impressed the school's christian athlete leader did y'all's school have one of those?? and she tried to recruit him thinking he'd be perfect for the group, but he looked at her with the most perplexed look ever and responded, "i'm neither christian nor an athlete, why are you asking me this??"

❧ she got super embarrassed and refused to look at him when he took her sat prep class the next semester lmao

❧ he ate his lunch consistently in the atrium for the first three years of high school, and then in the senior courtyard next to the little fountain his last year, always alone though

❧ he was in choir for the first year of high school, something he'd done since elementary school, but he quit after seeing how petty everyone was to each other

❧ he'd hated lucia since he met him in the third grade, and on graduation day, mikael told lucia that he was genuinely surprised to see him graduate lmao

Ricardo

❧ definitely a student athlete, his first year was spent in basketball and his last three years were in american football, and he definitely got benched a few times

❧ he actually almost got kicked off the team in his sophomore year for bringing a fucking knife to school-- at least he was smart enough to not bring his gun

❧ he's a decently smart guy, but he just didn't put in the effort for his classes-- he did just enough to stay on his team. he was practically on a first name basis with his guidance counselor from how many visits they'd have between his grades and since the knife incident

❧ that being said, his grades never saw above a 3.0, in fact he averaged about a 2.6 all of high school. he also didn't bother to take the sat because he genuinely didn't think he'd go to college until the last semester of his senior year when he got a surprise scholarship for his athleticism

❧ his favorite class was gym, he always made sure to take a physical education class once a year. he also secretly really enjoyed the home economics class he put off until his last semester of senior year. the teacher was this older lady, and they grew pretty close and he'd even eat lunch with her, spending his free period and study hall in her classroom under the excuse that he needed more help on a certain topic. he gave her his jersey at the end of the year and she made sure to get a photo with him on graduation day :,)

❧ definitely infamous in his school for being a massive flirt and has definitely hooked up with several cheerleaders. it's funny cuz he always scoffed at what you learn in health class about sti's and safe sex, until he caught mono from someone in the theater class lmao

❧ i'm sorry but he was low-key very disrespectful to his teachers, at least for the first half of high school. like he'd roll his eyes at them, leave a mess, be on his phone all of class

❧ he was also a pain to be partnered up with for a project; if you got stuck with him, you bet your ass you'd be doing all the work. anything he said he'd do would be half assed, and you better hope you had a teacher who didn't grade collectively

❧ the academic classes he'd pay the most attention to were history and government, especially in terms of war periods and diplomacy. he lowkey loved playing devil's advocate in these classes which pissed off everyone else lmao

❧ his freshman year he was definitely the kid who wore those god awful graffiti-style backpacks with a speaker inside them, blasting the worst trash rap you ever heard

❧ another thing that almost got him kicked off the team, he got caught bullying a freshman in his junior year. he had to have a meeting with the kid's parents and apologize formally to the kid, and he got a semester's worth of detention and suspended from his sport for a month

❧ he shaped up a lot after that, and he ended up becoming one of the team's star players, definitely not the mvp or the captain, but he was valued for being a machine on the field, pure manpower and determination

❧ was pretty close friends with lucia, and although they drifted apart in their junior year a bit, they got close again come senior year and talked about going to the same college together after ricardo found out about his scholarship

❧ brought an air horn to the graduation ceremony and almost didn't get to walk the stage lmao

Noel

❧ won the superlative for being the quietest in his class lol; it got to the point where his teachers wouldn't cold call him for discussions knowing they'd get one word responses that wouldn't contribute anything at all

❧ he was always seen alone, or with either mikael or oswald, never anyone else. with mikael, they'd just eat together every once in a while, or they'd work on a project together. with oswald, they were just the oddest duo to see: a behemoth of a man and a small guy with a killer resting bitch face

❧ he really enjoyed biology as a class and elected to take anatomy, but promptly dropped it when he learned what they'd be dissecting. instead, he switched to forensic science and had a little too much fun making his crime scene diorama

❧ this poor kid could barely make it through his math classes. he had to be tutored in math all through high school and oswald became his study buddy aw

❧ the same thing applied with his language arts class: he just kept falling behind, his written grammar skills were awful, as was his handwriting. between this and the fact that he hardly spoke, his teacher just assumed that he didn't speak the school's primary language and had the bright idea of putting him in an "x for speakers of other languages" class lmaoo

❧ he was evaluated and it turned out that he, in fact, could understand the primary language, he's just very silent and is bad at grammar. so, he was moved again to a lower language arts class

❧ he didn't particularly hate any of his classes, he just knew he had to suck it up and do them. he'd try his hardest, sure, but sometimes he'd just do the minimum effort required if he really wasn't feeling it

❧ he joined the environmental club with oswald and helped him with the gardens. he also tried out the culinary club, but upon promptly burning his first dish to ashes, determined that maybe it wasn't for him lol

❧ so aside from the environmental club and tutoring, he didn't really have any extracurriculars. he was very much a "i'm here to learn and go home" type of guy

❧ he graduated with a 2.8 gpa, and hated the grad cap lmao he absolutely wore his casual clothes under his gown, which he took off almost immediately after the ceremony was over

Lucas

❧ very well known through the whole school, he was regarded as a heartthrob and resident pretty boy, but for some reason he didn't seem to have very many friends, and no one really seemed to know much about him

❧ he was as active as possible in school life; he joined the yearbook committee in his first year and started taking journalism classes in his junior year, he also one of the only ones to pay attention to student board elections

❧ he was very big on the arts classes that his school offered, especially photography, which in turn helped out a lot for the yearbook. he also took a ceramics class, and the art teachers loved him so much that they gave him his own senior studio space in his sophomore year

❧ he actually did really well in all of his classes, he's a quick learner and had a phenomenal memory. the one thing he sucked at was note taking. so when he took a history class that required cornell notes?? bye, that was the lowest grade he's ever gotten

❧ mans was the king of extracurriculars, on top of the yearbook committee he was in the gsa and best buddies, and he scored national art honors society

❧ he hung around a different friend group every day, so he knew everyone's beef all the time, which easily made him the most powerful man in the school in a way. he never used it for bad, but it would give him topic ideas for the school newspaper

❧ failed the pacer test so bad in his freshman year that half the people in his class that had crushes on him got the ick and stopped lmao

❧ he tried doing theater in his sophomore year, but everyone was so in each other's business that he stopped after that one year; he landed a spot in the musical though and killed it

❧ the psychology/sociology and language arts teachers always got a kick talking to him because of the odd shit that comes out of this guys mouth; he'd pose the most thought provoking and lowkey existential questions about the content material that had the teachers on a tangent for the rest of class. his classmates would either love him or hate him for this, grateful to have an easy rest of class or freaking out at the question too

❧ he graduated with a 3.6 gpa, and he had several chords from his extracurriculars. he didn't really want to wear them, not finding them important or that big of a deal, but his art teachers convinced him that he worked hard for them

❧ the yearbooks all four years of his high school career were the best the school had seen that their sales went up. after he graduated, they dipped in quality and the yearbook committee advisor was so sad lol

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

A Town headcanon: the closest the show gets to lgbt rep is the Ax stand-in character (i think you said Ax was a girl in A Town) not understanding human gender roles and the other fake Animorphs having to “correct” her

[For those of you just tuning in: A-Town is the shitty postwar sitcom inspired by the life of Jake Berenson, to the eternal annoyance of Jake Berenson.]

I love this, because it'd be a place where A-Town canon and fanon would diverge. Gina (the Ax stand-in) could have all kinds of sight gags with this idea. Her sitting next to Liam in the same legs-spread-apart pose that American males use, only to have J.J. make a horrified noise and correct her posture. Her repeating Ax's complaint about how the people on TV usually don't have to wear shirts so she doesn't see why she has to. Brandon teaching her how to spit like a real lacrosse player, and her picking up the habit of doing it to express approval. All the gender fuckery.

And of course, the writers are coming at it from an angle of "lol so funni girl act liek boy", whereas the fandom has concluded (more accurately) that Gina is of a gender which cannot be captured by any Earth language. Throw in the number of Gina/Trina shippers out there, and the consensus is that she's most certainly some kind of queer rep.

[musewritingsforyou]

The Void

Summary: The pack races to save a girl from her own father

Warnings: swearing, blood, guns

Word Count: 4.3k

________________________________

Episode Two: Part Two

y/n Pov

Stiles and I were reluctant to give away what we knew about where the twins had been hiding. We haven't really found out on purpose, it just sort of happened when we were driving around one day. We saw the twins' bikes outside Derek's apartment. And then we drove by on purpose… more than once. The bikes were always there.

Stiles slid open the door to the large and simple apartment. For the amount of people that love there and come in and out, you would think it would have more stuff in it. Lydia walked down the steps first, scanning the room when she got to the bottom.

“They said they would meet us here.” Stiles and I stepped down to both of her sides. We didn't even have a moment to react before two shadows reached out from behind the doors, barely visible. 

“Jesus! Scott, are you okay?” I called out when I saw that they had rushed him, punching him square in the jaw. Before he had a change ro respond they threw him in our direction, stiles pulling me to the side before he hit the ground. There was nothing we could do but watch helplessly as they beat him. As cocky as the three of us can get- especially when put together- we know we could never match the strength of a werewolf. When Scott was thrown against a wall for a second time I reached out on impulse and grabbed Stiles' arm. 

“Stiles.” I pleaded but he shook his head and winced as Scott got hit again and again.

“Stiles, please!” I said, begging him now, tugging on his arm. Still we did nothing. 

Scott dropped to the ground, curled up on his side. There was blood dripping out of his mouth, sputtering in bubbles when he winced. He opened his mouth to let out a cough before speaking. 

“I thought you guys were going to teach me how to roar.” he had to spit blood out of his mouth after speaking. 

The twins were hovering over him, giving him a merciful break from the hits. “We are. You do it by giving in.” Ethan spoke and Aiden continued, “giving in and letting go. That's how deucalion taught us control.”

Lydia flinched as Ethan leaned down and grabbed the collar of Scotts shirt, hauling him upright with barely any effort. I tugged on Stiles’ arm again, and this time he spoke.

“Hey you know, it's funny. I've actually tried something like this on him before. Except I used a lacrosse ball and a heart monitor instead of… ya know, my fists.” he grimaced and shuffled on his feet. “But you're right, beating the living shit out of him is probably better.”

Scott shared a look with Stiles before turning his attention back to the twins. “That's actually the plan?” he asked, “you kick my ass?” the boys nodded before responding.

“You're afraid to turn. We're going to make you.” 

I scoffed a little, “Sure yeah, seems like a great plan you've got going.” 

They started to taunt Scott. Flashing their eyes at him and circling him like predators as he bent in half from the pain. I tried to step forward but was stopped by a hand on my arm. 

“You’ll only make it worse.” Lydia said to me, holding herself with her other arm. 

They were pushing him back and forth so quickly it was making me dizzy, throwing and pushing and taunting him, over and over and over again. Finally there was a light in Scott's eye. He swung. But just as quickly as he had recovered, they were on him again, two punches for every move he made. Scott was back on the ground with Aiden standing above him.

“You need to become the monster. Become the beast. Become everything you're afraid of!” Scott got to his knees and swung again but it was too slow, too sluggish. He was just pushed to the ground again.

“Stiles I don't know how much more of this he can take.” I said, turning to him, “he can't turn right now, he isn't healing like he should be.” Stiles looked at me and nodded. In the background Scott was on his knees on the floor, coughing blood in large drops. 

“I know, I know.” Stiles said, chewing on a thumb. “Fight back Scott, come on.” 

“What if I can't control it? What if I can't turn back?” Scott was staring at the floor, blood covering his mouth. He was shaking just with the effort of not fully collapsing to the floor. After the twins responded there was a moment of silence. Scott looked to the floor and took a deep breath before forcing himself to his feet. He wiped the blood off his mouth crudely before charging at the twins. I had to look away.

“Stiles, this has to stop!” I said into his shoulder. He was shielding me from it, trying not to let me look. But I could hear punch after punch after punch. The sound of the blood hitting the ground. Still holding my head to his shoulder, Stiles extended a hand and shouted to them. 

“Enough!” he paused, looking over at Ethan. “You need to stop him!” Ethan walked over to his brother and grabbed his hand mid punch. 

“What? I thought we were helping him.” his brother paused.

“You help too much.” there was an unspoken message in his eyes, a conversation between the two of them that the rest of us were not privy to. But I didn't care. All I cared about was that this was over. It was done. And none of us were any better for it. 

Stiles, Lydia and I slowly approached the table where Scott was laying on his back, still covered in blood. He turned his head to the side and spit out a glob of blood. Stiles nearly puked. I continued walking until I was at his head, slowly taking a hand and placing it under his skull.

“Scott?” I asked quietly. His eyes were open but not looking at me. “Scott, are you okay? Can you hear me?” he nodded slightly. “Okay, good.” I looked over my shoulder at Stiles who was leaning against a wooden post with his hands over his face. Lydia was still standing beside me. “Hey Lydia?” She stepped closer and I turned my head to look at her. “Would you mind standing right where I am for a minute? Just keep your hand right here-” I placed hers over mine behind Scott's head, “and don't move for a minute, okay?” I slipped my hand out from under her's and waited for her to shift positions.

I gently removed Stile's hands from his face. His eyes were a little bloodshot. “ We need to get him to the jeep, and I need to assess him a little.” Stiles nodded. “I'm worried he might have a concussion, I really don't know how fast he's healing right now.” Stiles nodded again and I placed my hands on his arms. 

“Was that a really dumb thing that I just had him do?” he asked me, glancing over my shoulder to Scott and the twins at the far end of the room. 

“You were just trying to help, Stiles. He’ll be just fine.”

“And Malia?” he said, eyes widening, “what if he can't do it? What if he can't turn her back?” 

“Then we will figure something else out, find someone else to do it.” I rubbed both of his arms as he heaved a sigh. 

“Come on, it's late and we need to drive him home.” Stiles nodded. 

“He’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah” I sighed “we’ll all be fine.”

~~~~~~

y/n POV

Eventually with the help of the twins we managed to get Scott into the jeep. At first we insisted we didn't need or want their help, but logistically we just couldn't make it work. After I cleaned the blood off and made sure he wasn't about to pass out we all decided that he was probably healing fast enough for it to be fine. I still insisted we drive him home. 

Stiles and I drove back to his place in silence. We were both so tired. And yet somehow I couldn't imagine sleeping. When we pulled in his dad was sitting on the couch, badge and gun on the table in front of him, some old cop show on the TV. He barely looked up as we walked in the door.

“Hey kids.”

“Hey dad,” Stiles said quietly, heading right for the stairs. 

“Woah, woah woah. Hang on a second” Stiles sighed and swung back down, throwing himself into a recliner by the couch. I perched myself on the arm and leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Where were you two all day? I thought I would have seen you hours ago.” 

Stiles and I shared a glance before he responded. “Oh just, uh, trying to figure things out for Malia, you know.” 

“Malia the coyote?” 

“Werecoyote. But yeah, her.” The sheriff sighed and finally turned his head. “Hang on. Why do you-” he pointed at me, “have blood all over your sleeves?” 

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. I didn't even know I had gotten blood on me. 

“Dad listen-”

“No no no, don't ‘listen’ me. If something happened you've got to tell me, it's the only way I can help!” He got up from his chair and squatted in front of the both of us. “Now, I know you've been tired and there are some not so normal things going on right now but-” he placed a hand on his son's knee, “you can tell me anything, both of you.” 

“I know, dad. I know. We were trying something out, something we thought would help Scott. It didn't help him, he got a little hurt. Just a few scratches I swear, he'll be fine by morning.” The sheriff then turned his gaze to me.

“Is he telling me the truth?” 

“As much of it as usual.” I replied.

The sheriff sighed again and rubbed his head, but moved back over the couch and sat down. “Alright then, good enough for me.” 

Stiles and I got up and he took my hand as he led me up the stairs. Before we got to the top we heard his dad call out from downstairs.

“Get some sleep tonight. And no funny business.” 

Stiles and I laughed, sharing a look before heading into his room. We went about our usual routine, closing the blinds, brushing our teeth. When I slid beneath the blue and white comforter a breath released from me. I spread out for a moment, taking up every inch of the bed before Stiles stepped in the room. He sat on the edge and pulled off his shirt and sweatpants. 

“Move over, starfish.” I rolled my eyes, but moved to the side so he could get in. I was only on the other side for a moment before he reached over and grabbed the hem of my shorts, dragging me by the waistband to his side. 

I nestled into him, resting my head on his warm chest and throwing my leg between his. He brushed a soft kiss to my head, running his hand in circles over my back. We stayed like that for a minute, just feeling each other until he stopped the movement on my back.

“What?” I looked up at him as he asked me. 

“What do you mean, what?” I asked. 

“Somethings wrong I can feel it. You're not falling asleep and your shoulders are all tense like you're thinking about something that's bothering you.” 

I hadn't even known I was doing that. “I don't know. I mean- I just-” I huffed and continued, “there’s a girl in there, Stiles. A young girl who got trapped in that body. Not only do we have no idea what she's going to be like if we get her out, but we don't even know if we can get her out.” I moved my head to look at him. “What happens if we fail? I can't be the cause of some poor girl's death.” 

Stiles looked at me for a minute, thinking. He resumed the movements on my back just as he opened his mouth to speak. “First of all, even if we fail, that doesn't mean she dies. And even if she died that in no way means it was your fault”

“I-” he cut me off before I could start

“Nope, you can't argue this one. None of this is our fault. We didn't ask for this, and we are only trying to help.” he moved his hand to my hip and squeezed. “We are going to figure this out, y/n/n. We are going to make it work.” I didn't respond

“So we make it work. Then what? What about you, what about Scott and Allison?” 

“We find Derek, we find a way to close the door. One step at a time okay?” 

I relented. Mostly from pure exhaustion.

“Hey.”

“What?” I whispered back 

“I love you.” He smiled sleepily at me and I returned it quickly. 

“I love you too mischief” 

~~~~~~~

Stiles POV

I don't remember if I slept. I never seem to these days anyway. When I finally decided it was morning I let y/n sleep for another hour while I lay there, head twisting around itself. If something goes wrong today, if one of us doesn't do our part, a girl could end up dead. 

I lightly shook y/n awake. She mumbled incoherently and nuzzled further into my chest. 

“Hey.” I whispered, moving the hair out of her face. 

“No thanks” she whispered back. 

I laughed and turned over, leaving her alone in the center of the bed as I slipped out on the other side. She groaned for a little while but eventually sat up, the night shirt I gave her riding up over her stomach. 

“Is it really time to go already?” 

I nodded, throwing on a shirt from my chair. “We want to get out there early, before the joggers go out. If he actually put traps around someone could get hurt.” 

She siged and rubbed her brows, “we could get hurt” 

“Yeah, we could” 

She got out of bed anyways. 

Our plan was to all meet up in the middle of the trail behind the highschool. We were hoping that as early as it was there wouldn't be any joggers on the path just yet. The sun was barely up. Scott, Issac, Allison, and Lydia had already made it to the halfway point when we arrived at the parking spot. The dew was still fresh, goosebumps raising on my skin as we started to walk. 

“Took you long enough.” Issac called out when we got into sight.

“Someone was a little hard to get out of bed.” I said, rolling my eyes in his direction. y/n took a long swig out of the coffee mug in her hand and shrugged. 

“I still think this is a bad idea.” 

Allison was standing quietly beside Issac, chewing on her cheek. Lydia and y/n had a silent conversation with their eyes before walking over to her, each girl standing at her opposite shoulder. Lydia looked around and shook her head slightly.

“Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?” 

Scott turned to her in seconds. “We are trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter.”

“Actually, we are trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote. Who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change-” 

“Do you ever think before speaking?” y/n gave him a stare I did not envy. He stopped talking in the middle of his sentence.

“Did you bring it?” Scott asked Allison. She had stopped chewing on her cheek, the girls at her sides steading her. Allison reached put a hand behind Lydia to open her trunk, pulling the rifle out smoothly. I flinched a little. The girl still kind of scares me. She finally put the gun down at her side, still too close for my comfort. 

After Allison pulled out the rifle form her trunk we all split off into groups to look for the coyote as well as the traps set by her father. y/n and I were sent on the walking path, doing a full circle as far as we could until either we find her, or someone else does. It would have been a nice romantic walk if it weren't for the whole, ‘looking for a murderous creature’ thing going on. 

We had only been walking for a few minutes when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I was still so on edge that it made me jump and look around before I realized what it was. 

“It took the doll again? What the hell is so important about that doll?” I asked my dad over the phone, speaking loud enough that y/n could piece together the information. 

“I don't know, but listen to me, there are traps all over those woods. Near the trails, probably near the crash, and Tate is out there with a rifle. I want you to stay out of those woods you got that?” 

I stopped fidgeting and looked up from the dirt beneath my feet.

“Stiles?” my dad and y/n asked at the same time. I locked eyes with y/n/n as I responded to him. Everything came together all at once. The crash site, the clothes, her father. The doll. That goddamn doll.

“Its the doll.”

“Stiles?” they both asked again. I hung up the phone, staring at y/n who had taken another step close to me when I stopped responding. I tried to explain to her what I meant, about it being the doll, but we both quickly realized that I actually hadn't put it together as well as I had thought. I kneeled down on the ground to think while she paced back and forth behind me. 

“All right, but why would it go all the way to the school, and then all the way back to the house just for a doll.” I paused shaking my head. “One that was in the crash to begin with. We didn't even find it in the den.”

“So she likes the doll, what do you mean?” she asked me. I didn't really have an answer.

“Yeah, she likes the doll a lot.” 

y/n paused her pacing, stopping directly behind me. I twisted around to look at her.

“What kind of doll was it?” 

“Its a- I don't know- its a doll, you know? Creepy looking, dead soulless eyes?” she sighed behind me. “Actually I took a pic.” I got up to show it to her. She looked at it for a minute, pointing at Malia and then tracing her finger back to the girl beside her. The girl holding the doll. 

“Stiles, she's not holding the doll. Her sister is.”

“I know what she's doing. I know where she’s going.”

~~~~~~~~~~

y/n POV

Stiles didnt take the time to explain to me what he was thinking before he picked up his phone again and dialled a number. I resumed by pacing nervously behind him, chewing on my fingernails as I tried to over hear both sides of his conversation. 

“Scott, its me, you need to call me back as soon as you can. It wasnt Malia’s doll, it was her sisters,” 

I stopped paying attention as he began to walk quickly down the path. I followed behind him, trying to keep up the pace with the coffee in my hand. I didn't even notice the metal in the ground in front of me until it was too late.

“The car wreck, she's headed to the car wreck.” 

There was a terrible sound as the metal under my foot groaned. I finally looked down, my heart jumping into my throat. “Stiles?” I called out, my voice shaking.

“yeah” he shoved his phone back into his pocket as he turned around. 

I was holding my breath, staring down at the tap that mercifully hadn't snapped shut on my leg. I watched as his eyes dragged down to where I was looking, finally seeing the glint by my foot. He rushed forward as I started to panic. 

“Stiles!” I wanted to step off. I wanted to jump and run and get out of here. He threw out a hand as he rushed over to me.

“y/n do not move.” 

He was standing right in front of me now, his shoes almost brushing the edge of the trap. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I needed to calm down. I needed to get myself out of this. 

“Look for a warning label.” 

Stiles shook his head at me, confused. “A warning label? Why would they have a warning label on this thing?” 

“Because animals can't read.” I said, closing my eyes again to calm myself. 

Stiles got down on the ground, holding my calf with one hand and placing the other beside the trap on the ground. He was whispering to himself as he searched until finally he found it. He stared and stared at the one spot of color until he finally looked up at me.

“y/n/n we've got a problem.” The sweat dripped down his brow. “I can’t read either.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

y/n POV

My breath was shaking. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Okay. that's okay.” Stiles sat back on his heels, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? Nothing about this is okay!”  I held out my hand for him to grab.

“Stiles, you need to breathe. We can figure this out.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting go of my hand to kneel back down on the ground. “You don't need the instructions. When is the last time you ever used instructions, right? You don't need them because you are too smart to waste your time with that. So you can figure it out. Just figure it out.” 

He didn't look at me as he wiped the sweat off of his face. I continued to breathe as slow as I could with my eyes closed. I could hear his ruffling the leaves around the trap, running his hands along all it's edges until he stopped. 

“Okay. okay, here we go” My eyes flew open. He was still kneeling on the ground, his hand on something that looked like a little wheel. “You ready?” 

I nodded. “I trust you.” 

“Okay. here we go.” 

In seconds I was off the trap, being pulled into his arms and away from the metal. A gasp made its way out of my lips as I realized I was still fully intact. Stiles arms were wrapped around me, my hands clutching the edge of his sweatshirt. I pressed the side of my cheek against his as we both stared at the now shut trap. Breathing heavily we turned and looked at each other. 

“Lets not do that again, huh?” He said, holding the back of my head. I nodded, mumbling as I dropped my head to his chest. There was a sudden rumbling in the woods. The trees shifted and shook, the air seemed to hum. Until all of a sudden a sound reached us. A howl. Scott.

Stiles looked at me, smiling. “Now that's what i'm talking about.” 

~~~~~~~~~

Stiles POV

Not too long after Scott's call we made it out of the woods. I made y/n jump on my back as we walked. She made fun of me and joked about being heavy, but there was simply no way in hell I was letting her feet touch the ground after all of that. If someones getting their leg stuck in a trap again, it'll be me. At least she could read the warning label. 

We found Scott and the rest of the pack by the cars in the middle of the woods. My dads cruiser was there too, off to the side. No other police cars were there. I could faintly see him over at the back, grabbing his extra jacket and draping it around a girl.

I stopped at stared at y/n. A girl. “It worked.” 

“Oh my god it worked.” she said back. She flung herself back into my arms and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. The rest of the pack made their way over to us. Issac's legs were covered in blood, but other than that we were all relatively unscathed. 

“You got her back.” I said to Scott, bumping him on the shoulder. He didn't say anything but just nodded, staring off into the woods behind the police cruiser. y/n, Lydia, and Allison had walked a little ways away, alternating between giggles of joy and raised eyebrows from what I can only assume is the trading of stories from our time in the woods. I walked over to my car, waving a hand at my dad who gave me a smile and a nod. We would be talking about this later I'm sure, but for now, we are alive and so is that girl. A girl who can go home to her father thanks to us. 

y/n stepped into the passenger seat just a few minutes later, leaning her head back against the leather seat and closing her eyes. I looked out the window for a moment, watching everyone else get in their cars and leave. Finally, once everyone else had gone I put the car into reverse. And then I sopped. I sighed and shook my head. 

“What?” y/n opened her eyes to look at me with confusion all over her face- as well as some dirt. 

“Of course now i can fucking read.” 

[hauntedjpegcollection]

terrible

wc: 8827 au: college au ch: benny, maran

Benny swiftly learns that college is nothing like the military.

Sometimes, he misses the rigidity. The ease of obedience that came with the Air Force, someone always there to tell him what to do even if the compromise to his person had always hurt. Sometimes, he still misses waking up at four in the morning, running PT drills until he threw up; a mans arm around his shoulders, someone laughing, him laughing, a Sergeant barking. Sometimes, he misses the organization and the routine as much as the frantic mania of a jet hanger. The noise that left him with a near permanent ring, at least in his left ear. He misses the smell of fuel and oil and the starchiness of his uniform.

Misses knowing exactly what he was doing.

He feels too old to be a freshmen; even if twenty-two is no where near old and his professors joke that a frontal lobe isn’t even finished until twenty-five. Benny had done his contracted five in the Air Force and then left and the military was paying for his Bachelors now, as they fucking should. They owed him.

And Benny loves college. Even if it’s scary. Even if he feels awkward and out of place and people mistake him for a few grades above—or worse, mistake him for a drug dealer so often he wonders if he should start actually dealing drugs. He loves the classes, loves learning, loves feeling exhausted all the time and living off coffee and cigarettes and most of all, Benny loves the parties.

They are the closest thing to a jet hanger he can get outside the military. Hectic and loud and rotten smelling—it’s these parties where he finds that he really does like drinking (even if he’d told himself he’d be different from—he’d be different, he’d avoid the alcohol for as long as he could). Beer goes down easy and he doesn’t get hungry and he finds himself a bottomless pit, endlessly able to drink and drink and drink. People think he’s funny, especially when he’s drinking and no one minds the stutter because they are all also drinking.

So he goes to the parties, as many as he can. Even the frat parties, where he obviously doesn’t belong.

“Pick a card,” Benny purrs playfully, two girls in front of him, giggling into their red solo cups. The music is almost too loud to hear what one of them says—she leans in close to try and tell it to his ear and he can smell her bright floral perfume. Benny imagines kissing her, imagines touching her waist and her shoulders and her throat. He’d really only started sleeping with women a few years ago that sometimes the attraction still felt startlingly new. He seeks them out at these parties especially, to feel his way around what he likes.

Benny fans the cards in his hands, performs a silly trick to shuffle them, listens to the girls laugh, feels almost just as intoxicated by their attention as he does the mostly rum and very little coke he’d just finished. The heavy, almost wet air inside the frat house presses and makes him sweaty, makes his hair as moppy and stringy as usual. The girl compliments the stupid shirt he has on, a graphic t-shirt he’d yanked from a thrift store without paying. He does another sleight of hand while they drink.

A heavy body presses up behind him—an instinct of pure fear makes Benny’s pupils dilate, something long remembered in a few broken bones scream at the surface of his not-fully-formed frontal lobe. His mouth dries as he twists his head to look over his shoulder.

Connor Alexander stands behind him, chest to Benny’s back, his eyes shiny with alcohol and cruel glee. Benny’s brain whirs like a computer, sorting Connor into categories; guy with two first names, lacrosse player, asshole, asshole, asshole.

“King of Spades,” Connor says, his breath smelling sharply of beer. Sour and tangy. Benny wants to get out from under him, but is trapped between Connor’s broad chest and the two girls in front of him. The girls seem excited with the lacrosse player there—Connor is big and pretty and popular and a senior, or super senior, whatever it means when someones been in college for far longer than they’re supposed to be.

Benny should hate Connor. Maybe he sort of does, maybe he hates Connor’s perfectly straight teeth (Benny has a crooked row, he smiles close lipped mostly so no one sees), hates his broad shoulders and his summer time tan and his big hands, one of which is closing around Benny’s shoulder. He should hate the way he smells, but he doesn’t, something boyish and pine and clean, even when he reeks of weed and alcohol too. Mostly, Benny hates himself for not hating Connor, who has always been an absolute prick to him.

“You’re n-not supposed to tell me the card,” Benny sneers, trying to shuffle his deck back together to keep it away from Connor. The last time he’d been at a party and some jock had zeroed in on him, the cards had been scattered everywhere for him to pick up. Near tears, cheeks burning, humiliated in a way he hadn’t felt since he was ten years old, while people laughed.

“This guy,” Connor says fondly, with a hint of condescension as his hand turns to an entire arm around Benny’s shoulder. “Man, it’s sweet you’re entertaining girls for me.”

Traitorously, they giggle.

“Someone h-has to,” Benny comments, shuffling the cards once more with ease of muscle memory. “I’m p-prepping them for the inevitable joy of yo-your presence and the endless discussion of sports, sports, yourself, sp-sp-sports again and then yourself. Here.” Benny finds the king of spades, holding it up between two fingers. The girls laugh, which makes Connor’s face go a dark red color. He has a pretty ‘Summer at Cape Cod’ sort of tan, so it’s more maroon than anything else. It was ruddy before from the drink, but now its worse and so is the glinting meanness to his eye.

Connor takes the card and licks it. Benny tries to ignore the strange stir in his stomach that mingles with the unwarranted violation against his property—then he reels when the card is slapped to his forehead. His feet sort of scramble against sticky hardwood floor, the heavy arm around his shoulders anchoring him to the humiliation. Benny’s lips pull back from his teeth, hands shoving at Connor’s chest to get away—the girls laugh and laugh and laugh.

When he finally does get free, the card flutters to the ground, lost to him, the deck now incomplete.

—

Benny drinks more.

He drinks so much that he is stumbling when he finds the bathroom. His hands sliding across the wall to keep himself mostly upright. Everything comes to him in tiny spurts of imagery. Wall, hand, bathroom door, open door, girl crying on the tub, girl leaving, him apologizing. Hands on the sink, holding himself upright. Mirror. Himself. His eyes, his creepy fucking eyes. He fishes into his pockets to try and find his sunglasses until he remembers why he’s in the bathroom.

The toilet is missing the entire lid and seat, so all he has to do is manhandle himself out his jeans and boxers—the release of pissing is long and satisfying. One hand holds the wall while he does, a drunken groan escaping him. His head feels clearer somehow, his sunglasses almost sliding off his nose to join the piss and toilet water. He stuffs himself back into his boxers, careens his way to the sink to wash his hands.

And the door to the bathroom bursts open.

“What the fuck?” Benny yelps, and then jumps back. He collides with the tub, falling down into it, head banging against the tile wall. Pain explodes viciously, white and blinding. A little kid inside himself cries at the pain, like it always does—he slips and slides against the sleek bathtub, legs floundering and kicking. Nausea rolls inside his stomach, alcohol splashing around his insides, no food to soak it up.

“Dude,” Connor laughs, his voice booming and echoing in such a small space. The music is a living heartbeat just outside the walls, a constant bum bum bum because it’s all house club techno something that Benny doesn’t like. He stares up, with giant and undeniably terrified eyes. The lock clicks behind Connor and Benny feels his insides churn. His heart jackrabbits, thunders against the calcium of his ribs until it crawls into his throat. Benny has been here before—no need to get jumped in a bathroom, to get hate crimed at a frat party—he thinks about the knife in his back pocket and if he can scare Connor away.

“Let me help.” Large hands wrap around his biceps and yank him up. Benny stumbles, the alcohol making everything inside him swimmy and unbalanced. His ear is ringing, like it usually is. His eyes dart everywhere, like little nuts and bolts on an axis, sliding around all oiled up.

“L-Leave me alone, man—let m-m-me go.” He hates how small and terrified that sounds. He wants to be big and intimidating and frightening, because he’s done being little. He’d just gotten tattoos over his forearms, because they looked scary and he liked that. The skin was still tender, still feeling bruised and sensitive.

“Relax, holy shit—dude, you’re geeked, did you take something?” Connor’s hands move from his biceps to his shoulders and one of them touches under his jaw. Benny feels stuttery and uneven, his chest moving rapidly. He wants to slap Connor’s hands away, to get out of the bathroom, to get back to his dorm, to fall asleep in his bed. His bed, how safe he felt, just in his bed alone. Something he owned, even if it belonged to the school, it was his. Benny’s sunglasses are pulled from his nose and set on the ceramic bathroom sink with a tiny tink sound.

“What th-the fuck?”

“Your eyes are so blue.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well,” Connor says, leaning back against the bathroom door. “It’s not a closet, but it works.”

“What?”

Big calloused hands take Benny’s face and pull. He stumbles into Connor, his own hands hands flattening on the bathroom door behind him. Their chests are warmly pressed together. His eyes stay open the entire time Connor kisses him, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels a tongue slipping into his mouth, tastes the burn of alcohol, the sweetness of spit. Benny’s eyes dart everywhere. He can see Connor’s blond eyelashes fluttering.

When they withdraw—or rather, Connor does because Benny had been yanked forward to begin with—warm breath fans his face. It makes him shiver, makes an uncomfortable part of his stomach burn. He clears his throat, resists licking his now wet lips.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” Benny is ashamed at how much of that is a whisper. His mouth feel bruised from how hard the kiss had been. Facial hair had scraped across his skin and now it burned.

“I don’t,” Connor snorts, eyes rolling. Benny is equally ashamed at the small hurt inside his heart at that; just the tiny crack that forms, knowing it’ll take so long to shove plaster in to seal it back up and keep it whole. Benny swallows and attempts to tug himself away, but Connor’s hands are still firmly attached to his face. He doesn’t go anywhere and the other man leans in once more. Benny shoves his hand up and across Connor’s mouth to keep them from kissing again.

“Man.” It’s drawled out in an annoyed tone, gorgeous hazel eyes rolling for a moment, hot air on Benny’s palm. “At least I’m being fucking honest with you. What, do you want me to lie? You’re weird. You’re hot but weird. You kind of creep me out sometimes and—”

He sputters a bit when Benny’s fingers slip past into his mouth to shut him up. Then his face slackens into something lusty. His tongue moves and Benny thinks this is not the first time Connor has done this—not this, finger sucking in a disgusting frat bathroom, college party, music in the background, drunk and high—but this as in, down low with someone who he knows wouldn’t say anything.

For a moment, Benny tries to pretend that’s empowering. It’s secretive and gross and isn’t that what he wants? This was easier, this was better even, this was like owning a part of Connor that he couldn’t ever deny.

You couldn’t unfuck someone.

So Benny pulls his hand away. And he leans in for them to kiss again.

—

When it’s over, they’re both quiet as they reassemble their clothes.

Benny struggles with his belt because he keeps missing a loop. The orgasm and alcohol make his hands awkward, his breathing still ragged, a tingly feeling across his entire body. He keeps leaning and nearly colliding with the bathroom wall, cursing under his breath as he fixes it over and over.

Connor reaches out and grasps his shoulder and smiles at him. It’s as gorgeous as ever, as untouchable by lower class as it can be, it’s the perfectly sculpted smile of a man who grew up with two rich parents that loved each other and got him braces at the first hint of a problem.

He says, “Thanks, I needed that.”

And Benny has no idea what to say back, so all he says is, “Sure.”

And then Connor leaves.

So Benny locks the door to the bathroom behind him and yanks his belt all the way off and throws it into the bathtub and leans his head against the wall. It’s cool to his feverish, drunk skin. After a moment of that, he takes his shirt off to wrap around his elbow. He slams it against the little window above the shower and luckily it doesn’t shatter—his elbow or the glass. It just pops out, like the caulking for it was crumbling anyway, not taken care of for years—it falls into the grass below the house and Benny finds it easy to shove himself through it. He’s still lean from the years of military service before this languid, hedonistic stint in school.

Ben lands on his back, a loud thump, a soft whoosh of air from his lungs and stares at the dark blanket of the sky above him as the music dulls even further. He’s glad to be away from it. The outside air makes him feel even more sober than the sex had. Grass tickles his bare torso, which reminds him he’s shirtless and when he sits up, he realizes he’s still very drunk. The entire world shifts and spins every which way, his head woozy and unstable. He manages to get the shirt back on and shove himself up from the grass. He only slides a few times.

Someone says his name off to the side and he waves.

He hits the sidewalk and stumbles. He tries to find his cigarettes and lighter in his pockets. Finds that he’d crushed the pack of cigarettes when he’d jumped from the fucking window, but one is still good enough to light and carry him home.

—

There are strings of Connor’s, because Benny never really stops going to the parties. As dirty as it feels, there’s something equally as intoxicating about it. Sometimes, when it starts to eat at him, Benny relies on the old familiar rationalization that has carried him so far in his life; his father would have fucking hated it.

His father would have killed him for it.

Good.

—

It doesn’t take very long for Benny to realize one degree isn’t enough. Something inside him is hungry and never satisfied and he can’t imagine a world that isn’t lectures and books and learning—so he reapplies and just keeps going. The military stops funding after four years (the irony that he’d given them five of his own, just for them to pay for only four is not lost on him), but he’s smart. Benny finds that he’s very smart, that cleverness takes him far. He gets scholarships and funding, he pinches pennies between meaningless jobs and his grades never slip.

Then he meets someone named Cael.

And for the first time in his entire life, Benny is suddenly dating someone. No more secret hook ups in bathrooms, closets, random strangers bedrooms. No more meeting people on easy dating apps for one night stands that are sometimes more than one night. No more Connor’s.

His grades still don’t slip.

Benny teaches them to ice skate because they’re from New Orleans and have never seen snow. They move into a place together and Cael decorates the kitchen and Benny admits to not knowing how to cook anything but minute rice. They sleep on the left side of the bed and he sleeps on the right. Cael sings in the shower. Benny picks up their favorite kind of beer on the way home and they watch shitty reality tv and eat pizza and both resolve to start working out because they’ve gained weight dating each other and it feels so normal. It feels so…wrong.

They last a little over a year, until Cael breaks up with him.

Spring makes Benny’s allergies atrocious, which explains the painful pressure behind his eyes. Cael tells him that he has an empty hole inside him that he keeps trying to fill with anything he can get his hands on, and that they don’t want to be shoved into some place dark and cold. Benny tells them to stop fucking therapy talking him—and they break up with him because he isn’t in touch with his emotions enough to justify dating anyone.

The irony is that he apartment hunts the day after and finds a place that some man named Jeb is renting under the table. He isn’t in touch with his emotions enough, but he can’t stand that they’ve left their fancy lavender soap in the shower. He can’t stand finding their hair ties everywhere. He can’t stomach the stain on his couch from where they’d dyed their hair and it had gotten little spots of bleach everywhere.

So he moves.

Then he meets Lark and Xavier.

—

And of course he fucks Xavier.

Not right away, because at first he thinks the two men are dating. They have an ease of affection that makes his skin itch. A polarity that keeps them spinning and revolving around each other, without a string of sex tied between them. Benny sort of hates them both for it, not that he’s without friendships. Few and far between friendships and occasionally they chafe with the desire to get close and he shoves them away and thinks of Cael telling him he’s got an empty black hole that he keeps trying to fill.

So of course he fucks Xavier, because Xavier is also incredibly beautiful and has big eyes that just scream ‘I’ll make you feel good’.

It’s fun—both of them sweaty and in his bed and covered in the little tell tale signs of mouths, biting and nipping and tasting. Xavier’s long body is bent over his mattress, hands grasping at sheets, pulling them free from the edges of the mattress. He has freckles everywhere, but they’re lighter on his lower back, where the sun must not kiss him nearly as often. His skin pinkens easily with enough pressure. Benny’s tattooed hands slide in appreciation over a tapered waist, over slim ribs.

When he bears forward, chest to back, Xavier makes a sound that veers too suddenly high and it causes Benny’s harsh thrusting to pause. His new room mate is more vocal than anything he was expecting or at all used to—it strokes a part of his ego that he wasn’t even aware of. It’d made everything more enthusiastic, more fast paced, this desire to get a louder sound on every slap of his hips forward, on every twist and different position he found Xavier easy to mold to.

Instead of continuing, he brushes sweat slicked red hair from Xavier’s temple.

“What?” he breathes. The sound is so breathy and sweet its almost distracting.

“Did that hurt?” Benny’s hand cups around the back of Xavier’s neck, massaging enough to watch pond colored eyes roll close.

“Uh,” Xavier pants, his cheeks flushed and shiny. A bead of sweat runs down from his temple to drip off his chin. He smiles that awfully pretty boy smile, eyes still closed. Benny feels warm affection blooming in his bloodstream that he isn’t entirely sure is purely sexual. “It’s—” Benny paws a hand forward, groping across Xavier’s chest and making him huff a laugh and a pleasurable little sound, grinding his forehead into the pillow. He places his mouth to a warm, slick shoulder.

“Tell me.”

“You’re sort of heavy,” Xavier admits.

“Are you calling m-me fat?”

Xavier starts to protest, but Benny leans himself back from the way he’d folded over Xavier. He hadn’t even realized that most of his weight was pressed down on the other man, that he’d truly pinned him to the bed like that—he liked the feeling of being bigger, of making someone else pliant beneath him but only if the other person liked it too. Benny shifts to one knee, the other raised and yanks Xavier’s hips back. This time, his sound is strangled, but deeply positive. His freckled back muscles flex and dance.

Benny pats him affectionately.

“Tell me wh-what you’re into, Xavier,” Benny says and for a moment, wonders if all this talk is making them both too soft to continue. Until his request for communication is met with an eagerness that drains them both to bone weary tiredness after all is said and done.

—

Over breakfast the next morning, they agree to not have sex again.

“Thanks,” Xavier says, sleepy eyed and smiling widely. He has a little bruise on his neck that’ll fade in a few days.

“One and done,” Benny replies, eating cereal like he’s never had a meal before, hunched over the table as if someone might try and take the Cheerio’s away from him.

“What’s one and done?” Lark asks, his athletic shorts making awful swishing sounds as he walks around the table to open the fridge. Xavier clears his throat and rubs knuckles against his cheek and his face goes so red it looks painful—and Benny doesn’t answer Lark, he just laughs manically and finishes his cereal.

—

It’s a year or so later when Maran is opening the door to his bedroom.

He looks surprised, as if he isn’t the one nosing around a strangers apartment. Lights from the party pour through the door frame, as does music and the loud energy of drunk people in a gathering. Somewhere between freshmen year (Connor) and the beginning of his Masters (Cael), Benny had stopped enjoying the parties. For some reason, they get thrown more often at his apartment; maybe because it’s bigger, or because the complex doesn’t complain or the cops never show up or because Lark is very popular.

Benny’s too tired to engage most of the time, and that night particularly, he’d been more concerned with cleaning his chemistry set.

“Oops,” Maran says, looking equally bewildered at himself for saying anything as he does for opening a random door. The light around him pools at his edges, his silhouette turning bright like he’s a drunk little angel. Benny can barely make out his features, but he’s seen them before. Knows those high cheek bones turn a pretty shade of red when he’s had too many fruit cocktails that Matilda or Xavier have made. Benny stares, sitting on his stolen lab stool, black gloves on his hands. He holds up tweezers that have a cotton swab pinched between them, as if he’s saying hello.

“I’ve only ever seen those in movies.” Maran dares to take another step into Benny’s room. He briefly wonders what his little sanctuary looks like in the eyes of a stranger. Messy, disorganized, refuge? From the party anyway. Was Maran looking for that? “It’s dark in here.”

“Mm,” Benny makes a humming, noncommittal sound.

They’ve not really been introduced, though they’ve technically met. They’ve been in the same room as each other once or twice, at least. Benny doesn’t like parties anymore, but he shows up for Matilda—because she was Matilda, so of course he does. And he’s seen Maran across the room, or in passing. He’s been on the receiving end of that big, pretty smile and felt his heart thump in ways it shouldn’t be thumping.

Maran came with Benji and Xavier was skittish about Benji (for reasons Benny could easily figure out), so no, Maran and Benny have not formally met.

And it’s starting to look like they’re not even meeting now, because Maran takes his step back. Looks like he might retreat into the party, back into the noise and alcohol and too many people. A prickling sensation crawls over Benny’s scalp, down the back of his neck. He tries to get his mouth working, but nothing happens, so instead he stands.

He points at the stool.

“Oh.” Maran steps toward it. “Are we about to do something fun?”

Benny ignores a very warm sensation that fills him from the stomach up. He clears his throat and points again—and Maran slowly lowers himself onto the stool. He sits just like Benny could imagine him sitting; hands around the front between his thighs, feet tucked behind on the stools bars. He swings his head back to look at Benny, who slowly removes his gloves. It could be a trick of the light (what little there is) that makes Maran’s eyes seem so shiny, watching the gloves get plucked away and tossed into bin.

Benny crouches in front of the mini fridge he has. He withdraws beakers filled with ominous looking liquid and returns to his desk and his chemistry set and the cute boy.

“Yunno—I’m sorry for barging in, like, intruding. On your—I’m assuming this is homework.” Maran seems to ramble when he’s nervous. Benny doesn’t mind, because his voice is nice. Very nice. Benny stands behind him and reaches over Maran’s shoulder to put the beaker down. It’s full of a dark brown, bubbly liquid. He puts another, full of clear, equally bubbly liquid down on the other side of him. For a moment, they’re touching. His biceps on Maran’s shoulders. Then he lets his arms drop.

“If y-you mix those, we’ll blow up.”

“Really?” He expects Maran to turn around, but instead he just drops his head back like it’s on a hinge. The top of his brightly dyed hair brushes Benny’s torso. His long, beautiful brown neck is exposed. Benny’s sweaty hands twitch at his sides. He feels like someone’s just walked through the library inside of him and selected a book, withdrew it just to blow dust off the pages and crack the spine.

“Highly to-toxic. Incredibly deadly. Drop a p-penny in and it’ll dissolve.”

“Which ones the penny again?” Maran asks, head falling forward to look at the two beakers. The nape of his neck is fuzzy with the smallest wisps of hair. His ears are pierced, the jewelry small but pretty. There’s a thin line of silver, a necklace that disappears underneath his shirt. Benny reaches over his shoulder once more and takes the one filled almost to the brim with black liquid.

When he lifts it to his mouth, Maran gasps. He turns his whole body on the stool, a sneakered foot pushing against the hardwood, and he reaches up. One hand touches Benny’s bare, tattooed forearm. He’s so warm. It’s dark in his room, the lighting soft and low because his eyes hate the light. Benny smiles as he gulps down the mysterious toxic liquid.

“Do you uh,” Maran’s throat bobs. “Do you drink the other one next and explode as a party trick?” It is so absolutely absurd that Benny sputters a laugh, tossing the beaker onto the desk. It rolls and rolls and rolls and clatters against the set. He puts both hands on Maran’s shoulders and leans so they’re looking at each other.

“It was root beer.”

“I can smell it.”

“What? Am I too close?” Benny grins, leaning in just a bit further. Maran doesn’t scoot back the way he expects, so they are too close right then. Instead, he smiles, his sweet drunk smile. It makes all the noise from the party disappear completely. Benny’s ears ring. Maybe not just from the jet damage. He fumbles a hand down Maran’s arm and then grasps the other mans palm and gives it a hard enough shake to jerk Maran back and forth.

“I’m Benny.”

And Maran says, “Hi, Ben.”

—

The beginning of Summer is unbearable. Heat comes quicker than the calendar predicts and the apartment becomes stuffy and disgusting with three men too hot to function. Windows are thrown open, fans are turned on, shirts discarded and tempers strung tight. It feels ominous to Benny, like there is something just on the horizon, a bubbling sort of storm that brews until it finally breaks the sky open.

He tries to keep to his room, where he has a window unit. Stands in front of it, hands on either side of the wall, lets the cool air hug around his torso. He never liked Summer.

The heat makes his hair worse, makes it clump together in strings. Makes him feel greasier than usual—he’s clean, he swears, he showers sometimes twice a day but it just sticks to him and now he’s just known for it. Being gross, being dirty. That’s Benny. Nasty. He swipes a tattooed palm down over his face and finds a shirt to throw on that’s big and comfortable, with a large rip at the collar. He contemplates staying in his darkly lit, air conditioned room, as he rips the collar further, tears the whole thing off and tosses it into the waste basket by his door.

But instead, he creeps his way to the living room, to the sounds of voices. Benny lingers for a moment, in the safety of the hallway, rocking back and forth on his heels, teeth indenting his lower lip. He holds his phone in front of himself, staring at the little text message that had pulled him out of hiding, out of air conditioning.

we got ice cream ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶ i got ur favorite flavor!!

Above that text are three more, details of Maran’s day, with those small wiggly things included. A good morning text with too many exclamation marks that he’s suddenly started receiving every day like clockwork, a picture of the sloppy breakfast sandwich he’d gotten (Benny had noted with no small amount of happiness that he recognized that sandwich, that they’d gotten them together only a few days ago), and a text far later in the afternoon that finally proclaimed that he and Benji were coming over.

Benny locks the phone and shoves it into his pocket but stays in the hallway. He recognizes voices and knows its not just Benji and Maran. Xavier, obviously, because if Benji exists in a place, Xavier is already there too. Lark, whose laugh is distinct in its short, huskiness. And then…someone else.

It’s strange to be scared in that moment. Benny can sometimes fool himself into thinking that fear isn’t a regular part of his day anymore, that he’s largely moved on. He’s far past twelve years old, but some sort of trauma to the brain has made him like a freakish animal that cannot control it’s hair trigger response to flee. He pictures himself like a deer, stupid enough to stand in the middle of the road, but terrified enough to run head first into trees and snap its own neck.

When he turns the corner into the living room, four people turn to look at him.

Maran and Benji don’t seem to mind sitting so close even in the heat, and Benny has to wonder if that’s because they’d grown up with never an inch or more between each other. So they’re together on the couch, Maran with one leg drawn up (too much bare thigh revealed, those God damn shorts), and Benji slouched beside him, with booted feet kicked before him. Xavier, despite being the tallest, seems easily comfortable sitting on the floor, elbows on the shitty coffee table Benny had stolen from a thrift store.

Lark perches on the arm of the other recliner, opposite side of the couch. He’s the only one that looks mostly unbothered by the heat, one of Benny’s own baseball hats on and turned backward, a peek of blond hair at the front. He’s not sweat slicked like Xavier, who looks drowned by the weather, and he doesn’t tug at his shirt collar the way Maran is—distracting Benny’s attention more than once.

“You’re being loud,” he finally complains.

“He’s alive!” Xavier proclaims, hands thrown into the air, face tilted to the ceiling. It makes Maran laugh, because he finds Xavier funny. Benny thinks Xavier is funny when he’s making Maran laugh. He yanks the fan’s head toward himself as he settles into the misshapen recliner beside the couch. “No, hey—I’m hotter than you, stop it.”

“Pfft,” the lone stranger in the living room’s suggestive snort makes Benny stare.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Xavier says bashfully, a tucked hand behind his neck. His cheeks are pink. Benny presses a socked foot against his bare freckled shoulder and gives him a playful enough push that Xavier grins sweetly and the pink drains away.

—

His name is Rex—which is a dogs name. Or the shortened version of a dinosaurs name. It might be a nickname and he might have explained the story behind it but Benny doesn’t listen. Quickly tunes that voice out the second it starts talking and finds it easy, because the heat just depletes him into the recliner anyway. He is melted STEM major, a puddle of advanced Chemistry minor.

Benny fiddles with his silver zippo lighter, not daring to actually strike it and bring even more heat into the living room. The constant anxious turning of it over and over in his hands makes Maran stare at him more than a few times. His quick glances become a constant for a moment before conversation gets strung between Xavier and Lark and Maran, obviously and then Dog Dinosaur Boy.

It’s only a few hours before night finally sweeps through and no one wants to turn on a light, as if that might ruin the little bit of cold darkness.

“The ice cream,” Maran says, launching himself from the couch. His familiarity with the apartment makes some part of Benny feel tender, oddly vulnerable, weirdly sublime. It twists something inside his chest, and his eyes stay following him. Maran’s in those unbelievably cute shorts, a shirt that’s too big and his dirty converses.

Though he knows it’s one deeply strange, perverse thought, Benny imagines himself yanking Maran’s legs into his lap and unlacing those white converses and pulling them away—he envisions leaning in to kiss clusters of freckles on a knee, sometimes skinned by skateboarding. He imagines his hand wrapping around a brown calf and raising it higher to kiss the sharp bone of an ankle. It’s such a blatantly sexual and somehow intimate fantasy that his face heats and he fumbles for his sunglasses in his pocket, despite how dark it is in the living room.

When Maran returns, Xavier and Benji retreat with their pints—and that’s nothing new. They often do, even though Xavier has nothing but fans in his bedroom and he runs hot like his blood is a degree warmer. Benji seems stalwart against heat, though and Xavier is so head over heels stupid in love he’d do just about anything for him (besides ask him out). Only, Maran doesn’t take the couch back, he perches beside Benny, handing down a pint and a spoon. It’s cool to his fingertips, but his shoulder brushes Maran twice and then nothing feels anything but warm after that.

“Salted caramel,” Maran says, slapping his own spoon directly onto the top of Benny’s ice cream. It makes a tiny pap sound. “You know—I figured you’d be a mint sort of man, Ben.”

“Gross,” Lark interjects.

“Agreed,” Rex chimes.

“Why’s that?” Benny asks, his eyes only on Maran, who also seems to only be looking at him. Benny can’t tell if that’s wishful thinking or not—for a while he’s assumed Maran has a crush on him. The sort of awkward, first crush a man gets on another man and isn’t sure if it’s real or not. Benny is too scared to find out, but he takes a slow bite of ice cream and Maran’s eyes skate away and to the ceiling and then down to the floor, his own spoon tap, tap, tapping against his lips.

“Y’don’t like sweets, really. Mint’s more refreshing, right?”

“Mint makes my skin itch,” Lark complains, with his shitty plain vanilla bean ice cream. Benny tries not to be annoyed with him, because Lark is still the only person in their entire circle who hasn’t noticed Xavier and Benji are moony over each other—and while he has no doubts Lark has a queer radar that never stops, he has so obviously not picked up on whatever small tension bubbles between Benny and Maran.

“They didn’t ha-have blue raspbe—berry?” As Benny asks, Maran looks down at his ice cream, tongue sliding across his lower lip to catch some. He shrugs. Something about the gesture is bashful, rounds his shoulders in a youthful way. See, I know your favorite too, Benny thinks, with smug satisfaction. He contemplates touching Maran’s thigh with his now cold hand, just to get a reaction from him, some sort of laugh or a squeak. He wishes they were alone, like Xavier and Benji.

“Cherry suits you, Maran,” Rex says smoothly.

It makes Benny snort, cool eyes on the other track star Lark’s dragged into their home. He’s very handsome. When he sweats, it looks misted and natural. Not greasy. Trailer park trashy. When Benny glances up to Maran, he expects the same level of petty annoyance at these awkward, bumbling flirtations. Like it would be an inside joke between them, something they could laugh about, in his room, in his room with the air conditioning, in the dark together—can you believe this guy? What a fucking loser?

Only Maran smiles. That chin tucked, big eyes looking from under his lashes, teeth indenting his lower lip smile. He uses his thumb to wipe away some of the ice cream on his mouth, his tongue touching the pad of his finger to clean it. Rex comes alive under that smile. He leans forward in excitement for that smile, elbows to his knees, spoon in his mouth, corners of his lips turned up. Benny can only imagine rows of straight, white teeth in that mouth.

He stands quick enough that Maran stumbles from the arm of the recliner. His dirty sneakers squeak on the hardwood as Benny retreats to the kitchen. It’s a good thing Benny’s ears are ringing, so he doesn’t have to hear whatever snide comment is made as he leaves.

—

You’re terrible at sharing, Isaac says. He’s smiling. It makes his eyes narrow and mischievous.

I don’t own much, Jonny rationalizes, his voice cracking around puberty painfully. I don’t want to lose anything.

—

Shame makes it too impossible to leave the kitchen, so he pretends that he wants to be there. Sits at the pub table, paperback spine cracked and folded so he can read with one hand. Lucky enough he’d left it on the counter when he’d come home from class to begin with—lucky more so that Xavier hadn’t neurotically cleaned the entire space hours earlier. Benny isn’t really reading. His eyes are skimming sentences, but they skip words. Nothing sticks. He isn’t thinking of anything even remotely related to the book.

Of course he’s aware of the presence inching into the kitchen behind him. Maran’s converses scuff on the tiled kitchen floor. Benny licks his finger tip and turns a page.

“Hi.”

He doesn’t answer.

There’s another scuffing sound. Cool air brushes against him as the freezer is opened. Then Maran is shuffling around the table. For a moment, it seems like he might sit down across from Benny, but then he simply stops and stands beside him. His hands keep moving from in front of him, fiddling with a gold bracelet that is strikingly beautiful against his dark skin, and then down behind his lower back. His knees switch and bend with weight shifting side to side.

“Haven’t seen you dip out all day,” Maran comments. Benny feels a brief surge of anxiety at how awkward he sounds—his voice pitched a little higher with worry. It makes Benny’s hand indent the slim paperback even harder. He doesn’t look up. “Benji get’s pretty bent up if he hasn’t had at least one, so—I mean cigarettes.”

“I’m trying to quit,” Benny mumbles, staring at his book.

“Yeah?” The one word sounds more like please than anything else. It feels rotten, Maran shuffling beside him, trying to ply him for attention. What does he want? Is that it? Just someone looking at him? Benny scrubs a hand down his face, sweat sliding down his throat. He’s disgusted by himself, thinking like that. Knowing Maran better than that. Two different emotions keep fighting for the most attention in his brain. Petulance and worry. It makes him nasty.

Benny finally pushes himself away from the table and stands. He means to answer with some sort of bite, but can’t say anything at all when Maran looks at him. It’s a quick flick, because he has his phone out.

“Wh-What are you looking at?”

“I got this weather app,” Maran explains, brows tilted upward. He looks nervous, even though he’s smiling. It mingles into something that twists Benny’s insides around like an angry fist is punching into him. “It—Well, it’s really fucking cool, Ben, actually. Can I show you?”

Maran, I would let you do anything, Benny thinks, even though all he does is continue staring. He slowly runs a hand down his own throat, wicking away sweat thats pooled in the hollow of his neck, at the top of a dagger tattoo. Maran’s eyes stay there longer than he’s ever stared at any part of Benny. Usually he is fast about trying to avert his gaze. Benny lifts a finger and taps his phone.

“It talks about cloud density—and light pollution near you—and uh, weather patterns. Right. I’ve been checking on it, today and—”

Their bodies bump together as Benny gets closer to look at his phone. The background is a pretty starry sky graphic. The font is cute and bubbly, pleasing to the eye in a way that Benny does not find pleasing at all. A small round planet with an adorable face that resembles those wiggly things Maran uses in his text messages has a dialogue box that says PERFECT WEATHER CONDITIONS FOR STAR SIGHT ❤

Lark and Rex talk in the living room, but they sound distant. Benny turns his head, his chin touching Maran’s shoulder.

“I wanted to look at—you told me about that constellation! That’s bright! And out there,” Maran waves his hand at the ceiling. The little planet on the phone screen blinks. It bounces slightly, in a constant, happy animation.

“Lyra,” Benny says quietly.

“Right, but you said it’s hard to see in a city. Because of—”

“Why do y-you wanna look at Lyra?”

“Because you told me about it.”

Oh God, he wants to kiss him. Benny wants to slam him into the refrigerator and kiss him. He wants to shove their bodies together and taste his tongue and hold him and squeeze him and bite him. He wants their faces so close they’re just breathing each others carbon dioxide until they’re stupid. And then he wants to kiss more. Instead, Benny just keeps staring at Maran.

“Do you want to,” Maran hooks a thumb over his shoulder, smiling. “Balcony?”

“Yes,” Benny says darkly.

—

Maran wasn’t wrong. He’s probably being such a bastard because this is just his second cigarette of the day—he’d not left the living room that entire evening as it bled into night. Like some strange sentry, he’d merely sat there, feeling tethered to this man in red shorts, as he leans against the balcony ledge. Maran stares up into the night sky. The wind makes his shirt billow slightly, around his boxy form. Benny lights a cigarette with little fanfare and sinks into the lawn chair on the balcony.

The nicotine thins his bloodstream immediately, makes him relax.

“I like when you do it like that,” Maran comments, chin tucked over his shoulder. His hands wrap around the metal railing. His toes brush the concrete of the balcony, drawing himself up on the strength in his considerable biceps. “Blow the smoke out and breathe it in like that. Looks like a trick.”

“I’m so impressive,” Benny sighs, kicking his socked feet out in front of him. He inhales hard on his cigarette, taps his cheek as he breathes out, blows rings that make Maran snort and roll his eyes.

“I think I can see it,” Maran says, pointing up above the awning of the balcony.

“Maybe.”

“No, really. I looked it up, to see it online first. I swear, it’s up there.”

“Of course sh-she is. But the city—Maran, stop it.”

Benny stands when Maran begins shimmying up the railing. One of his hands stay wrapped around the rail, the other with his phone open to his camera app, held up high.

“No, I swear, it’s just on the other side.”

“Maran, ge-get off the fucking railing.”

“C’mon, Ben, I just want a picture.”

“Maran.”

Benny shoves himself from the lawn chair. The cigarette drops from his mouth, drops the whole eight floors to the parking lot below. The cherry becomes tinier and tinier, sort of like a star blinking up in the sky. Benny wraps arms around Maran’s torso as he wiggles himself onto the railing.

His heart thunders in his ears, along with the ringing. His arms tighten harder, pushing Maran’s torso into his chest. He wears a little locket, a heart shaped trinket with the word ANGEL written on it. He smells so good, the scent of his sweat and body and the shirt he wears. Laundry and some sort of body spray. His muscles tense and flex underneath Benny’s grip.

His cheek presses to Maran’s chest, his own heaving with anxious breathes as Maran hefts himself up a little to get his picture. A warm hand wraps around the back of his neck for support. Fingers brush along sweaty skin, making Benny’s teeth gnash. He squeezes that much harder.

“Oh, I got it!” Ben pivots on his heels and tosses Maran down into the lawn chair. It skids backward just a bit. Maran’s smiling, cheeks dimpled, until Benny hunches forward. His hands wrap around the arms of the lawn chair, their faces inches apart.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Benny seethes through clenched teeth. His blood races in his ears, tingles along his entire circular system. He feels so nervous that his stomach hurts with it. He pictures Maran having slipped, falling, one sneaker caught on the railing, all that’s left of him. Benny’s fingers grasp the lawn chair harder. “Do you hear me? Don’t ever fucking do that again, Maran.”

They’re so close, he can feel breathing against his lips.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Maran whispers, his eyes roaming. They hit every point on Benny’s face. His eyes, his cheekbones, his nose, his mouth and up again. “I’m s—”

“Don’t apologize,” Benny snaps. He closes his eyes and leans forward just enough to touch their foreheads together before drawing away. “Just—Don’t f-fucking scare me like that.”

Maran’s repeated ‘okay’ is smaller. It’s not reprimanded small, it’s not scared small. There is, undeniably, some sort of sheen to his eyes, and a half smile to his plush lips. He puts knuckles to his mouth, looking down at his phone. His face falls immediately and he sags back into the chair. Only then does Benny realize he’s still leaning over him and move away. The heat all over his skin feels so much less like summer and more just Maran.

“What?”

“My picture turned out shite,” Maran complains. His lip juts. His brows knit. He looks so unbelievably adorable.

“You were leaning off a balcony.” The smile turns shy. Benny rolls his eyes and gestures for the balcony door.

“C’mon.”

—

Once back inside, they see brightly dyed orange hair and soft pastel blue hair. Matilda’s facial expression at Rex as she passes to the couch where Lark has laid himself out says everything Benny needs to know. He’ll delight in talking to her later about Lark’s terrible friends outside their circle.

“Do you like movies?” Rex asks Nomi as they pass to the front door of the apartment.

“Do people not like movies?” Nomi replies, in such a confused voice that it makes Benny smile.

—

Up on the roof, even in the middle of night as it is, it’s still just as hot. Benny finally gives in and strips off his shirt and tosses it to the side, where more lawn chairs are scattered. An empty cooler and a skateboard lounge beside the chairs. There’s a mattress that Xavier had dragged up his first year living there. The sheets are always somehow fresh—neat little freak. Benny flops himself down onto it, briefly starfished and happy.

Then Maran’s weight joins beside him. He’s trying very hard not to look at Benny, who tries very hard not to take that as a compliment. He shuffles over to give the other man more room to lay down as well. Then when he finally does, Benny lifts a hard and points.

“Oh,” Maran whispers. His voice is so sweet. So awe inspired and gentle. Benny is not even remotely looking up at his favorite constellation. He stares directly at Maran. His side profile is lovely. His full lips, his strong nose, defined brow. His hair is just starting to grow out a little. It’s been dyed recently. There’s always a bit of a lingering smell, chemicals and shampoo. Benny would give anything to put his nose right to Maran’s temple. To kiss him, underneath Lyra.

“There you go,” Benny says instead. “No suicide necessary.”

“I was not jumping!” Maran’s elbow nudges Benny’s bare ribs. He smiles and closes his eyes. “You had me, anyway. Wouldn’t fall. Not with—you were holding pretty tight.” He can feel the vibration of those words. He can read through them. Benny lays with his hands on his stomach, comfortable and hot.

“Maran,” he says.

“Mhm.”

“You’re st-still life guarding at th-hat shitty country club pool, right?”

“Green Acres? Yeah. Why?”

“Do you want t-to break into the pool with me to-tomorrow?”

The mattress wiggles. Maran himself, wiggles. He gets onto his side and Benny is forced to open his eyes and stare at those beautiful eyes, thick black lashes making them look so God damn fucking pretty. He has a freckly on the inside corner of his eyelid. Oh fuck him. He hurts. He makes Benny boil inside.

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Wicked,” Maran laughs. The stolen word from Xavier’s vocabulary makes Benny love him. They drift back into silence as Maran rolls back onto his back. The little app on his phone hadn’t been lying. The sky is completely clear of clouds. It is just one titan of a blanket, laying over them.

“Nomi wants to know if she can have the rest of your ice cream.”

Benny smiles ear to ear. He thinks of her blue hair curling around her ears, her perplexed look at dino-dog-boy. He thinks of the tiny mole she has right next to her left eye.

“Sure.”

“She also—uhm. She wants to know if she can come hang out.”

Benny rolls his head to the side and finds Maran no longer looking at the sky. They’re staring directly at one another now. Benny can see a flush rising on Maran’s cheeks, not weather warmed, but something else. He’s seen Maran with Nomi, the way he moves like an orbiting little meteor around her glow. Benny laughs, shaking his head.

“Tell her to come up s-so she can meet Lyra too.”

[destinygoldenstar]

Fusing Total Drama Characters In Sims 4 (Part 9)

I’m fusing Total Drama characters in Sims 4 using the genetic mechanic.

Why?

I don’t flipping know. Why not?

I’m gonna do EVERY pairing possible. This post is just gonna be however long Tumblr allows for images.

So let’s just get into it.

I’m using my own TD Sims for this. They’re in the Gallery if you want them. As well as all these pairings and sims that get generated. So what you want.

Lindsay + Bridgette

Alright, let’s see…

Oh wow. That girl is like, the PERFECT Lindsay/Bridgette fusion

Well one, I love her, two, she actually looks like Lindsay and Bridgette fused together. With the blue and the fashionable crop top and the heel version of sandals, and her hairstyle… this actually looks perfect.

The boy is whatever. He’s got a lot of animal print on for some reason.

The boys name is Jordan. He’s good & proper.

The girls name is Shea. She’s a dog lover & gloomy

Lindsay + Trent

Alright, let’s see…

Oh geez, they’re both mismatch.

Welp. This one was a fail.

The girls name is Lyric. She’s active & loves the outdoors.

That’s funny cause one of my project’s characters name is Lyric. (‘Danganronpa The Privileged Traitor’, look forward to it)

The boys name is Isaac. He’s proper & good.

Okay, really? You’re gonna give the boys the same traits?

Lindsay + Harold

What should’ve been Action’s finale.

Let’s see what sims comes up with…

WHO IS THIS BOY?!?!

This boy is CRAZY looking. Where’d you come from?!?!

Why do you have a mohawk?! Earrings?! A neon colored shirt?!

The girl is adorable. Why are the Harold daughters so cute?

The girls name is Elliana. She’s a loner & goofball.

The boys name is Finley. He’s practice makes perfect & a party animal.

Lindsay + Courtney

Here’s a pairing that’d never happen.

But let’s see…

Okay. The boy is terrible.

I’m sorry. But he’s bald. And he’s mismatch all over. That one was a fail.

The girls cute though. I think it’s a trend now that I like the Lindsay generated girls but not the boys.

The boys name is Angelo. He’s mean & hates children.

So yeah… his personality doesn’t make up for it.

The girls name is Marisa. She’s lacrosse intolerant & cheerful.

Aww she’s got a bit of both her parents.

Lindsay & Beth

Last one for today. And of course we got the two besties.

This should be interesting…

Oh gosh…

Okay, the boy, HIDEOUS. Top to bottom. Mismatch clothes. He’s got an ugly cap. He clearly has Beth’s genes when it comes to face. He’s got nose rings. UGH.

The girls actually very pretty…? Like, I’m surprised. This is a cute red dress she’s got going. And that hair? She’s pretty.

Congrats Beth, you did something right for… twice. Admittedly.

The girls name is Yvette. She’s self assured & evil.

…I take it back.

The boys name is Simon. He’s an animal enthusiast & good.

I guess this is a ‘looks aren’t everything’ story. Cause wow is that convenient that the hot one is evil and the ugly one is good.

Would be an interesting story though.

Say these generated sims were on a team on a show. What’s their team name?

[15-lizards]

ASOIAF American highschool AU bc I want them to suffer

-Jon is that guy you see in the hall all the time and he’s super cute but then you talk to him and he’s just. The most pretentious asshole you’ve ever met. He’s better than you bc he takes AP classes btw. And he’s on the basketball team but he’s brooding so he barely has any friends

-Dany is a little FREAK ugh I love her. She’s a GSA officer and wears weird clothes and cat ears to school and everyone makes fun of her but she’s the nicest person ever. Very passionate ab her special interests. super smart too like no one can say that she isn’t top of class

-Sansa is the nice popular religious girl who likes to make cookies for people. She’s like condescending nice though and is sweet to the losers mostly out of pity. Obsessed with Loras in a comphet way to cover her real crush on Margaery. She is on the swim team and loves to run the student council like the navy

-Arya is on the soccer and basketball team. Slightly to weird to be popular but too cool to be a loser. Kind of disruptive in class but it’s okay bc she’s funny. Definition of a low maintenance girl. Cuts her hair short and likes the way she looks in a sports bra and baggy clothes but has yet to find out what non-binary is

-Robb Homecoming King football captain you get the gist. Sincerely nice and is the one jock who’s on good terms with literally everyone in his classes. Tries his best to defend Jon (it is so hard) Has dated around but his most intense relationship is with his drug dealer burnout bestie Theon. They get jealous when the other starts dating a girl (both of them have yet to find out what bisexualism is)

-Joffrey is a grade A bitchass. He’s on the soccer or lacrosse team only because Cersei bribed the coach. No one really likes him but they hang around him anyway because he has a sick ass house and his moms hot. Thinks he’s smarter than he actually is, maintains a C- average

-Bran is that freshman you only see in khaki shorts and graphic t-shirts about bugs or some shit. Completely lives in his own world (autism slay!) and has trouble interacting with other kids. Besties with Meera and Jojen tho who just get him. Reads big ass philosophy books in his spare time

-Aegon is Dany’s cooler cousin. He’s way more popular than Jon and the two have a one sided rivalry that Jon made up in his head. Pretty nice to other people but he thinks he is such hot shit. His superiority complex is kinda crazy

-Theon graduated last year but still hangs around campus. Goes to Robb’s football games and sells drugs under the stands. “Where’s my hug at” guy. Drives a beat up Honda civic that’s on its last legs. Has multiple misdemeanors on his record. Robb thinks he can fix him

-Loras is Robb’s teammate who’s also mister popular. Already has a scholarship to a D1 school and is every teachers favorite (he takes advantage of this to skip class). Smart but doesn’t really try that hard in class. A classic DL gay guy who is in a situationship with grad student Renly after lying about his age on grindr

-Davos is everyone’s favorite History or English teacher. Gets invested in the students wellbeing. Gay kids LOVE him, he never can have a lunch period to himself those kids who are looking for a father figure are always eating lunch in his classroom. Has a loving wife and kids but is down bad for the eternally suffering Vice Principal Stannis

-Robert is the football coach and in most American schools you have to be a teacher to be a coach so he probably teaches health or sex Ed or some shit. Half asses his classes so he can go over film with his football players instead. You can hear him yelling from across campus. He is so loud

-Stannis is the vice principal who absolutely no one likes except Davos. Even the teachers don’t respect him. Has wanted to be principal for years but keeps getting fucked over by administration. Wants to move to a different school district so he can get a pay raise but the sexy Spanish teacher Mel is trying to convince him to blackmail the school board instead

-Tywin the principal. Used to be a AP US history or AP economics teacher but then discovered that he hated kids so he bullied and bribed his way into the principal position. Kids run when they hear him in the hallway with his walkie talkie crackling and his keys jangling. Lets Joffrey get away with everything bc he’s the principals grandson

-Cersei as the head of the school board. Always shoveling funds to her kids school instead of any of the other ones in the school district. Probably is in some sort of tax evasion or bribery scandal that Tywin is trying to cover up. Number one passive aggressive hater on Facebook

[flowsociety]

Unleash the Fun: Lacrosse Funny T-Shirts and Jerseys for Kids

Clothing is more than just fabric; it's a form of self-expression. Lacrosse funny t-shirts and jerseys offer young players the opportunity to showcase their unique personalities and interests beyond the confines of the playing field.

[itsyamutha]

Anchor ~Liam Dunbar

Synopsis: You may have a little crush on your best friend

  ~fluff~

Warnings: none

Ps. One of my wattpad stories while I write more

School had just ended it was the first day of summer. I was quite relieved school was very stressful but thank god I got a break. I was sitting in my room quite bored my mom was at work and I was home alone. An idea struck upon me, my friends I should hang out with friends. Yeah, but Stiles and Scott were practicing lacrosse, Kira was in Mexico, Isaac was In France, Corey and Mason were hanging out, and Lydia and Malia were busy the only person left was Liam. I guess I could hang out with him. I mean Liam is my best friend but recently every time I'm around him I seem to blush. I had developed a crush on him over the past school year. Being a werewolf was easy for the most part but sometimes it wasn't especially when my emotions were heightened. I haven't really hung out with Liam for a while, so I thought maybe if I hang out with him more maybe I could get over it, right? So I decided to hop in to my car and drive over to Liam's house.

Eventually I made it to his house. I got out of my car and walked up to the front door. With a little bit of hesitation I knocked on the door. A tired, 5'10, shirtless, brown haired boy answered the door. I felt my face heating up and my eyes slowly look down his toned stomach to the grey sweatpants. My eyes slowly flickered back up to face. "Y/n can you stop checking me out and get in." Liam said as he moved out of the way so I could walk in. "You're the one without a shirt." I said trying to defend myself. "It's just you here." he stated. We walked to his room, I took my shoes off and got in his bed. "So you're gonna take over my room." He said giggling. "Yup, pretty much." I stated smiling. "So what do you wanna watch?" He asked while getting in to bed next to me and handing the remote to me. "Supernatural" I smile at him. "Ugh fine but you need to learn how to watch something else. you know there's other shows out there." He said looking at me. I laughed as we laid together.

~time skip~

We were feeling a little hungry. So we decided to go get a snack. While eating I ended up spilling my Dr Pepper all over myself. "Oh it's cold, Liam I'm so sorry I'll clean it up." I said quickly. "Y/n don't worry I've got it, go to my room and change into one of my shirts and I'll put your clothes in the washing machine." Liam stated and he assured me that it was ok. "Are you sure." I questioned feeling bad. "Yes, now go change." he said giggling. I walked to his room and I put on a soft shirt, only a shirt it was long enough to cover my asś. A light knock on the door startled me. "Come in" I said in a soft tone. He slowly opened the door, his eyes widened once he saw me. He tried to play it cool.  "Hand me your clothes so I can put them in the washer." He said with a smirk😏. After that we decided to watch more Supernatural.

~time skip~

We heard the washer beep. We walked downstairs so we can switch the wet clothes into the dryer. "hold on let me go get the dryer sheets" Liam told me. As I was tossing my clothes into the dryer my ring got caught on the belt loop of my pants and flung my ring into the dryer. Without thinking I bent over to look in the dryer and reached for my ring. Liam had came back and I hadn't noticed yet.

"Oh wow ok. I just saw a whole lotta ass." he looked at me for another second before turning his head away. I quickly grabbed my ring and I stood up immediately.

"oh my God Liam I am so sorry."

Liam tossed a couple of dryer sheets in the dryer.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were wearing some cute black lacy underwear. I would've matched with you." He laughed at his own statement.

"ha ha very funny." I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

"Y'know you could've grabbed a pair of my boxers." I rolled my eyes at him before going back upstairs.

He laid down on the bed as soon as we entered his room. I walked over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers out of the top drawer.

"Cute." I looked over at him in confusion.

"Do I need to repeat myself or did you hear me the first time." He said being snarky. I rolled my eyes at him. I laid back down in bed and change the TV to Harry Potter. Liam and I weren't cuddling but we are very close. His bed was so comfortable that I ended up falling asleep.

~time skip~

I woke up about an hour and half later. It me a second to register the arm wrapped around my waist. I slowly turned my body to look over at the sleeping boy. He looked perfect but no matter how perfect he looked I had to piss. I slowly moved my body trying to get up without waking up Liam. After I used the bathroom I got back in bed. I started to admire his features and how amazing he looked. I grabbed my phone to check the time but I must've moved to much because Liam woke up.

"Good morning handsome. How'd you sleep?" I questioned.

"Well it was good until someone woke me up and I was having a good dream too ughh." He rolled his eyes at me. I lightly giggled at his annoyance.

"I'm so sorry sleeping beauty." I replied sarcastically.

"Ugh I hate you." He groaned in his tired raspy voice. I went to try to get out of bed again but a strong hand pulled me back in.

"You're not going anywhere." He wrapped his arms tightly around.

"No let me go." I giggled trying to kick him. He rolled over and pinned my arms above my head. My face got extremely hot and pink.

"No kicking." He said in a stern voice. I blew on his face and wiggled myself off the bed. I looked at him and ran to his door. Before I could get it open he came up behind me and pushed it closed. I turned around to see him leaning over me. I began to blush again but I pushed him back. I ran out the door and down the stairs but he quickly followed. I got to the kitchen but I wasn't fast enough. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I let out a squeal as he spun around.

"Put me down." I said.

"Fine." He set me on the island.

"I'm kinda hungry. Do you wanna go to a restaurant?" I asked him.

"Oo yeah I could go for some burgers right now." He said helping me off the counter. We quickly got dressed and headed out the door. I drove us to a small diner around the corner. We ate our food and had a couple laughs before leaving. I drove us to a park that had a playground. I got out of the car and ran to the playground and straight to the swings. Liam walked at a normal pace towards me. He walked behind me and placed his hands on my hips. He pulled the swing back then quickly pushed it forward. He places hand on my lower back every time he pushed the swing forward.

"Higher!" I laughed.

"As you wish." He pushed me with a little more force.

"Ok ok too high. Too high." He laughed at my words. He walked over and sat down on the swing next to mine. We sat there and swung for a little bit before slowing down the pace. I looked over at Liam. I had to tell him about my feelings towards him.

"Uh Liam. Can I tell you something?" I spoke nervously.

"Yeah of course." He said with a bright smile on his face.

"Ok but promise you'll still be my friend." I looked down at my feet.

"I will always be your friend." He reassured me.

"Ok well the truth is that I love you. I love you more than anything, and I was to scared to tell you. I'm not scared anymore." I confessed.

"Truth is Y/n that you are my anchor. I think it's cute how your heart skips a beat when I'm around you. The face you make when you're focused or the way you tap your fingers when you're anxious. I love every little thing about you." He grabbed my hand and pulled me off the swing into a long passionate kiss. I felt so relieved as if all my problems had gone away.

"Come on let's go back home and watch movies and you can stay the night." He said pulling my hand. He decided to drive this time. He placed his right hand on me lower thigh and looked over and smiled at me. We got home and changed into something a bit more comfy. As I laid there in his arms I slowly drifted to sleep.

======================== I hope you liked it. I feel like it could have been better but I'm too lazy.

1619 words

[mischief-marauders]

I desperately need a Wolfstar fic based on Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray where Remus and Sirius go to the same school and know of each other but aren’t personal. Remus is shy, quiet, and more in school while Sirius has this cold, school athlete type of vibe and they’re at a party and Sirius gets so fucking drunk and then Remus goes to leave and sees Sirius trying to start his car and he runs over like “what the fuck you’re not driving home asshole” and Sirius just grins at him drunkenly and moved to the passenger seat as an exasperated Remus gets into his car to drive them home. Remus grumbles about stupid athletes and drives away. Remus asks for where Sirius lives and he freaks out because his parents can’t see him like this so Remus begrudgingly drives them around and then they stop a 24 hour diner and Remus is like “what the fuck is my life, I’m being a DD for a drunk lacrosse player who doesn’t even know my name” and Sirius (who was half asleep) sits up and says “Remus John Lupin. Top 10 of our graduating class, all AP classes, and president of the habitats for humanity club at school” and Remus is shocked and Sirius blushes and tries to play it off. They go inside and eat greasy diner food and find out how different they each are. Remus is sarcastic and funny and blunt while Sirius, who rarely smiles at school, as an adorable dimple when he grins. Sirius is kind and warm and has a big heart. They also find out the bad parts. Remus’ parents are divorced and he hasn’t seen his mother in years. He doesn’t have many guy friends and he hates school events because he feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb. Sirius’ parents are religious and put an insane amount of pressure on him to the point where he internalizes everything and closes himself off to people. They talk for hours until Sirius isn’t as drunk and Remus drives him to his house. Before they get in, Sirius just stares at him intensely and leans in. Remus leans forward and they both kiss in Sirius’ Rover. Sirius pulls away and looks at him scared and gets out of the car. Remus feels surprised and just wishes Sirius was sober. Sirius turns back and motives how exhausted Remus is and invites him to spend the night. Remus doesn’t want to be a bother or run into Sirius’ parents but he insists so they sneak into his huge house and run into a furious Regulus who yells at Sirius for not answering his phone and Remus gets nervous because he doesn’t want to wake their parents and Regulus is confused and is like “what’re you talking about? Our parents are out of town for the next 2 weeks” and Remus looks at incredulously at Sirius for lying but Siruys just blushes and says “I wasn’t sure how else to ask you to hang out” and Remus is so taken aback by the lengths he went to to hang out that he just chills. They go upstairs to Sirius’ room and Remus looks around his room while Sirius finds clothes for him. Remus looks at the huge four poster bed, the pictures on the wall, and a slight messiness of the room. Sirius comes back with a shirt and shorts for Remus to change into. Sirius changes in front of him which makes him blush and turn around. Sirius laughs and turns around so Remus can quickly shuck off his jeans and sweater and put on Sirius’ gryffindor lacrosse shirt. At this point Remus looks around for a blanket to sleep on the floor but Sirius just laughs and tells him they can share a bed. Remus climbs hesitantly into bed and faces Sirius, both of them on their sides. Sirius gently puts his hand on Remus’ face and whispers “I didn’t know kissing could feel so good until I kissed you” which causes a smile to break across Remus’ face and they kiss again until Remus yawns and they break apart and just fall asleep next to each other.

Anyways, just something sweet based on the song. We get Remus’ scared to be vulnerable because he doesn’t know if Sirius is actually into him or just drunk. We also get Sirius terrified to lean into his queerness but being with Remus feels too good to be wrong.

[hyperforcereignition]

Hyper Force: ReIgnition - Ren Kanno (OC)

Since he's FINALLY made his appearance in the story, I can share Ren's references. Initially he was posted to my main account then I took that image down since I wasn't happy with how he turned out.

This guy's been through so many revisions it ain't even funny. Like, he's had a LOT of different attire and then finally I got what I was happy with.

Ren Kanno, is a pretty chill guy all things considered. He's a dork, kind of a spazz around a girl he likes... and extremely responsible and driven by his love for his family.

Ren is also a bit of a punk, who has taken up being the head Innkeeper of his family's Ryokan business on Shuggazoom.

While he's new to the romance game, he will admit that there is one girl he's very fond of...

While I can't go into the details of their relationship yet (since that's coming up soon in fict!) Ren and Mila really do feel like they found the other piece of the puzzle when they met.

(I call them Milen!)

Although... he's also got secrets.

Ren is 27 as well and tends to prefer dressing comfortable, versus proper unless he's going out or handling things as the Master Innkeeper. Unlike Mila, Ren has very few outfits and tends to stick to his main two, the muscle shirt or the jacket.

Course he's always busy taking a certain sister of his to lacrosse practice when he's not managing his business.

Find out more about Ren in Hyper Force: ReIgnition

[sarahannmartin15]

Teen Wolf preference

How they asked you out

Derek : it was a normal training day for the Hale and McCall pack's. They where training together while you and Lydia were talking about college and how highschool is you know what sister's talk about when they catch up. So you had already been quite attracted to Derek but when he toke off his shirt and started doing pull ups it was just wow.

You could barely listen to anything Lydia said anymore so after training Derek asked you to stay back and everyone wolf whistle and cheer the boys knew about Derek's feelings for you so they knew you were in for it. " I really like you and I know it's wierd but I love your smile, hair, eyes and just everything about you so will you go on a date with me ?" He asked very flustered which was very sweet " of course I would love to!". You practicly screamed he was so happy and so where you. When you got home you told Lydia everything

Scott : you and Scott had been besties since the first day of 1st grade when Stiles introduced Scott to you. You and Scott bonded alot while growing up so it wasn't a huge thing for the girls in the pack to realise the way you and Scott would always sit together or when Scott gives you hugs you get all flustered so one the confronted you " we know you like Scott, and believe me girl before you denie it just letting you know that Scott fells the same way so either you get him or lose him like a puppy without a leash". Lydia spoke fast leaving you no time to speak to be honest you found the last part quite funny.

So the next day you and Scott were so nervous and awkward but later that day he built up the courage and asked you out you of course said yes like why wouldn't you he's been your crush since who knows when. Stiles wasn't to pleased to hear that his sister and best friend are going on a date but he pushed through it.

Stiles : as we all know Stiles is probably one of the most awkward yet confident boy in teen Wolf so basically you and Stiles where busy studying and Stiles kept stealing glances at you as you read through your notes. He finds it quite cute when you bite your bottom lip.

After what feels like an eternity he finally gets the balls to ask you out and it goes something like this "ynwillyougooutwithme" he said bearly giving you enough time to process what he just said once you realised "yes oh my gosh yes " if you think you said yes about 100 times you'd be right and that's how you and Stiles just ended up blushing the entire night

Isaac : Derek hated it when Isaac was around you because he knew that both you and Isaac like each other. One day Derek was out out of town so this was the perfect opportunity for Isaac to ask you out. You where sitting on the couch opposite Isaac you could feel his daze on you so while on your phone you couldn't help but smile eventually he walked up to you and asked why you where smiling " no reason, why do you keep looking at me?😉🤨" "No reason😏" you could feel your cheeks burn as he did his smirk. ' you know now is the time to ask her out buddy' the voice in Isaac's head told him

" okay so I've been wanting to ask you out but I was scared you brother was going to rip my throat out with his teeth" he said having a little chuckle at the end " ya he would...wait did you say you wanted to ask me out?" " Well yes" " I would love too now to keep this away from my brother"

Liam : After explaining the supernatural world to Liam you guys had been super close like you know Scott and Stiles close in season 1. One day the others went out to go and drink at a club obviously you two where underaged do you couldn't go so you guys stayed at the McCall house. Melissa was working a night shift so was Liam's dad. You two spent the day eating snacks, watching movies and overall just having fun.

You and Liam where just sitting on the couch when he asked you " do you prefer lacrosse or baseball" " lacrosse, why?" No reason, video games or homework" " video games" " Pepsi or coke?" " Pepsi" " brown eyes or blue eyes" " blue" you start realising what he's doing " blonde or brunette" " brunette" ( yes I believe Liam is a brunette) " will you go on a date with me yes or no" you where flabbergasted he actually did Liam freaking Dunbar asked you out" yes yes yes OMG I thought you'd never ask" " wait really" he asked "yes" you replied once you calmed down

Theo: you where once again walking in the forest like usual but then Theo showed up " you know I'm starting to get the feeling that you're following me" you said rather calmly " me following you Nah never" " are you sure" you played with him " yes I'm sure" " okay". You two proceeded to walk. Now Theo an't the type to hint that he likes you he will literally come up too you and ask you out do that's what he did tonight.

" I really like you and I would like to take you on a date" he said with a smile only you had ever seen" well you're in luck Mr Raeken because I like you two and I would love to go on a date with you" " okay tomorrow night 7:30" he said while still smiling" now to hid this away from Stiles is going to be a problem" she said " why??🤨" Theo asked " because he forbids me to see you" " but do you listen😏" " well no" " I knew you thought I was irresistible" " oh don't flatter yourself 😑" " don't worry I won't" "okay I've got to get going bye" you said as your phoned pinged it was Stiles " okay bye "

[beaconhillsxbot]

San

D.O.B: July 10th, 1999

Status: True Alpha

Residence: Beacon Hills

Occupation: Student and Veterinary assistant

Slice of back story: Born into the legacy of the Choi family consisting of all alphas. San had gone from being a regular beta to a true alpha at the age of 11. Having sacrificed himself from an oncoming bullet that was coming straight to his best friend, he had revived into a true alpha. Golden eyes changing to a rare bright red, he was then recognized as the alpha who would do anything for those close to him.

Likes: Funny people, hugs, cuddles, popsicles, comedy movies, lacrosse, baseball, and stargazing

Dislikes: Unloyal people, bright colored shirts, being late to places, and mint chocolate ice cream

Partners: -

Sexual Attraction: Straight. Poly

Sexual Desires: Dom. Shower sex, willing to bottom for partner, praise (giving), nipple play, breeding, spanking (giving), breeding and temperature play