#i wrote this instead of doing homework yet again

[iliketangerines]

Good day Tangerine, I hope you're doing well. Sorry if I have many requests for you, I hope it isn't too much of a bother. But I really love your writing and I was hoping you'd be fine with writing fluff?

With a reader who's struggling with her classes to the point that she's going to flunk because that subject is weighing her grades down. Still, she hides this and tries to study harder with her own but can't understand it. When Bi-Han catches her staying up late one night, crying, he offers to teach her.

At first, he's like your typical strict Asian mother who would snap when you don't understand, but when you begin to tear up, he realizes that being rough won't help you and tries to teach you softly. Turns out all you need is practice and patience.

just need some patience

a/n: i'm imagining like a teenager bi han who's still training to be grandmaster rn

pairing: bi han x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han usually isn’t up at this hour, late at night and wandering the compound

for some odd reason, he can’t fall asleep and had tried to stay as still as possible to try and trick his body into going to sleep

but it hadn’t worked and so now he was heading to the training rooms to try and work out some of the energy when he passes by the library

no one else should be awake at this hour, and yet the light was on

Bi Han stalls for a moment, wondering if he should go in and see who’s there or just worry about himself

his curiosity wins out, and he finds you at a desk, back bent and feverishly scribbling something onto a scroll

you’re in one of his classes with one of the masters, usually sitting in the front and furiously taking notes as they go over the lesson for the day

he walks over to you silent, and you don’t even notice, too absorbed with what you’re trying to learn, and he recognizes it as the homework one of the masters at the Lin Kuei had assigned today

you write feverishly and have no idea he stands right in front of you until Bi Han squints at something you wrote and says that you got it wrong

the chair nearly tips over with how you jump out of your seat, but you place a hand over your chest and let out a wheeze as you say that he had scared you

he scoffs at you ready to give you a quick retort, but then you press him further about what you got wrong, nearly jumping out of your seat and over the table

Bi Han raises an eyebrow at you, wasn’t it obvious?

pointing at where you made the error, he explains that you should’ve done this instead and takes the pencil from your hand and writes it down

your eyes narrow in confusion, and in a meek voice, you ask him to explain why what you had done was wrong

this was stupid, and he didn’t really want to be here right now

stepping back toward the exit of the library, Bi Han tells you it’s self-explanatory and goes to blow off some steam in the gym, but then you grip onto his arm tightly

he has to fight all instincts to flip you onto your back and crush your bones, but you fall to your knees with a loud thump as you continue holding his hand and start to beg for him to teach you

you’re failing this class, and at this rate, you’re pretty sure that master at the Lin Kuei hates you because of how close you are to flunking

you need to pass this class to continue on with your training at the Lin Kuei, so could you please please please teach you

your eyes are wet and sad, and Bi Han feels like he’s looking at a kicked cat that was sitting in the rain all day as your lower lip starts to tremble as you try not to cry

letting out a frustrated breath, Bi Han rolls his eyes and agrees, and you start to thank him profusely

he just picks you up the scruff of your neck and drags you over back to your seat and sits down in the chair and starts to explain to you what you were doing wrong

you’re slow, so much slower than him, and he doesn’t understand why you just don’t get it

his voice grows shorter, snappier, as you get the following problems wrong over and over again, and his patience snaps, hissing at you and asking why you can’t figure this out like everyone else

you flinch backwards, and your voice wobbles as you try to explain that it just didn’t make sense, that you just can’t figure it out

Bi Han sees how tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes, and he realizes how he’s completely distracted you from learning

he takes a deep breath, collecting his mind for a few moments, and mutters out a quick apology to you before going back to the problems

maybe explaining the problem and method in a different way would help you better, and so he formulates a plan, tapping the pencil against the table as he thinks

he writes a few practice problems for you off the top of his head and hopes they make sense, and he walks through them with you

your wipe your tears away and go through them slowly and thoroughly, learning each step and going through the problems quicker and more confident with every solved question

a few hours later, you had finished the homework with flying colors, and Bi Han felt a sense of pride well up in his stomach

was this what it felt like to lead others? perhaps training to become grandmaster wasn’t so bad after all

the sun barely peeks over the horizon,and Bi Han realizes that the both of you have stayed up all night in the library

but you give him a big grin, and you wrap your arms around him tightly, hugging him before scurrying off with your schoolwork back to your quarters to wash up and squeeze in a quick nap

he sits in the library in silence, trying to process the action, and his cheeks heat up as he thinks of how your chest pressed against his

shaking away the thought, Bi Han goes off to his quarters to freshen up and get ready for the day, but he goes through the rest of the day with a smile on his face, thinking of how you had smiled at him

perhaps he would have to continue your late-night tutoring sessions

[xuchiya]

"Quick Reaction" || kang yeosang || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

You were bored out of your mind, wishing you could have brought your book or your drawing pad to pass time, although everything seemed to be going smoothly—until your professor called you to the faculty room. "You're missing an assignment," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she added, "and so is your classmate, Kang Yeosang."

Anything but that. You cried, stomping your foot to the ground out of frustration. You sighed internally, mentally retracing your steps to figure out which assignment had slipped through the cracks. As you walked to the faculty room, carrying your notebook and pen, you bumped into Yeosang, who had the same expression of concern on his face. You both exchanged knowing glances, resigned to your fate.

“You lost your assignment?” Yeosang asks. You shake your head, “I’m not sure either but I know I wrote it and had a perfect score. What about you?”

Yeosang shrugs, “I guess I was cutting class when it was given.” Both of you giggling knowing that is farfetched. He never does and never will, most especially his mom is your math adviser. Besides, there are guards blocking the two entrances of your school gates, so there is no point in cutting class unless you decide to fake ‘sickness’ to not attend school.

Standing outside the faculty room, you could hear your professor bustling about. "Alright, since you two are here, I’ll dictate the assignment instead, but since students aren’t allowed inside, I’ll give you the answers too. Be quick, though—it needs to be passed immediately and the head will not be happy to have students inside."

You pouted, “We could just work inside the classroom.” 

“Oh … you’re right. You may go but I hope to get this one before dismissal and ask one of your classmates to dictate some of the homeworks you both are missing.”

And that’s how you found yourself inside your classroom. Yeosang stays at the other but you both agree to stay at your classroom instead. You pulled out your notebook, your pen poised to capture every word. Years of training as a news anchor for your upcoming college years had honed your ability to take notes swiftly and efficiently. Yeosang, however, wasn’t faring as well. As your classmate, Hongjoong rattled off the questions and answers, you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, struggling to keep up. His eyes darted from his notebook to yours, then back again, frustration clear on his face.

"Hey, hey, what’s this..." he whispered urgently, tapping you on the shoulder to grab your attention, leaning over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you leaned back to check on him that both of you realized how close you were. Your faces stopped just inches apart, your breath brushing against his lips. Yeosang froze, his gaze trailing over your features, taking in every detail. His heart pounded in his chest as he noticed every imperfection—each one making him feel something unfamiliar yet undeniably warm.

"Hey, if you two are gonna kiss, let me turn around first!" Hongjoong teased, breaking the moment.

Startled, you both pulled away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You quickly handed your notebook to Yeosang, avoiding eye contact as you nervously fiddled with your pen. Meanwhile, he hid his face behind your notebook, furiously scribbling down the remaining answers, trying to ignore the heat still lingering on his cheeks.

As both of you finished the assignment, he took your notebook and he handed the assignment to Hongjoong who insisted on bringing them to your professor since he will be passing by the faculty room and towards the auditorium. After thanking Hongjoong, Yeosang glanced at you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You met his gaze for a brief moment, sharing a silent understanding, before both of you looked away, the air between you filled with unspoken words and the beginnings of something new.

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Cable/GN!reader - Pt 2.

@gildedjerk YOU DID THIS TO ME. I was supposed to finish my homework an hour ago but I wrote this instead. I literally haven't written a part 2 to anything this quickly ever. what is happening to me

Read pt 1 here :)

TWS: Angst with happy ending. Falling buildings, minor depictions of death, timeliness bullshit, big man cries and we smooch him. Possibly part 3 if the mood takes me

 For the first time in a long while, Nathan is panicking. Buildings in the city are crumbling around him, sentinels closing in around every street corner- and he can't find you. He calls out your name, and you don't respond. He reaches for you, searching for your mind with the telepathic ability he can spare- and he can't feel you. 

    He can't feel you.

    For the first time, he's more struck with the absence of your running mind than he had ever been annoyed by it.

    He should have gone with you. He never should have let you split away from him. The two of you were a duo. No matter how much grief you gave him when you first started to tag along, he couldn’t imagine life without you. He refused to. Cable narrowly dodges a falling fire escape, and he knows he’s running out of time. He calls for you, again, and again- and there’s no response. He can’t let this happen. He won’t. 

    Cable bolts down the street as the smoke billows and the world crumbles. The device on his wrist beeps, and his blood runs cold when he realizes it’s a warning. Still- he perseveres. He follows the psychic echo you left behind, rounding every corner he can, staying on your scent like a bloodhound. He wouldn’t leave without you. Not again. 

    He’s getting closer, he can feel it- but his fear only grows, knowing that you were so close, and yet he can’t feel you. He can’t find that beautiful mind of yours.  He can’t find your memories. Your nervousness. Your running mind. He can’t feel that love he was so afraid of anymore- and he is so scared for an entirely different reason than before. 

    He follows your trail through a warehouse, weaving in-between the machinery as he hears the distinct sound of a sentinel, but he’s horrified when he realizes it’s not coming towards him. Towards you. It’s walking away. Cable exits the warehouse, and on the other side, he finds… nothing. 

    Cable finds rubble. The building in front of him is rubble. He hears the shrieking of metal as the building on his left begins to fall, but he’s preoccupied. A beeping is heard, but it doesn’t come from him. It sounds again and again. Never stopping. 

    Cable sees the blue light from underneath the rubble, and he finds a device identical to his own. It’s still attached to your arm, but you are not there. Your mind is not there.

     The building to his left finally gives in to the weight and falls. 

    A stabbing influx of… something, strikes Cable’s forehead, and he wakes up in a cold sweat, lying on the cot in the safehouse. His body is disoriented, his mind chilled with something more than just horror. Cable realizes that it wasn’t a dream, It was a vision. It was the future. A future. 

    It was real. It felt so real. He’s not entirely sure it hadn’t happened. Cable sits up frantically, looking towards your cot to find you. But you’re not there. His mind is still addled by the influx of information, powers mixed and scatterbrained, unable to find and feel. The one thing it still seems able to do is keep the virus at bay. He’s stumbling as he stands. Cable slams the bedroom door open, that cold horror all he can think of as his mind cannot find you in its haze.

    He moves through the house like a storm cloud, opening every door, searching for you in the same meticulous manner he uses to search the house for threats.

    You find him before he finds you. Having heard the commotion, you exited the kitchen, stepping into the hallway halfway wondering if there had been a breach in the security. 

    “Nate?” The footsteps stop abruptly when you call out for him, only to pick up the pace a second later. Cable looks absolutely furious when he exits a spare room, storming over to you in a manner that almost makes you afraid he’s going to yell at you.

    But he doesn't. The moment Nathan reaches you, he takes hold of your face, and he kisses you like he’d never get the chance to kiss you again. It’s desperate, almost forceful- but after a moment of confusion, you kiss him back. His hold is all-consuming, presenting his love and care for you out of urgency, and necessity. Nathan only pulls away when his thoughts pull back together. He looks at you in shock, like he himself hadn’t expected the kiss to happen. He looks worried. Scared. You pull him down by his collar to kiss him again- if only to wipe those emotions clean from his face. Tears are running down his face, but he can’t bring himself to pull away from you like he had so many times before.

    He kisses you again, and again, hoisting you up into his arms when his back starts to hurt from bending down to reach your height. Nathan sets you on the kitchen counter, finally pulling away from you- and he begins to sob.

    However afraid he was to fully experience the love you had for him- the fear of losing you without showing you his love had triumphed it all. You hold him close as he sobs into your shirt, wrapping him in your love. You don’t know what started this. What set him on this path when yesterday was spent the same as any other day for the two of you- dancing around each other. Leaving the ties blurry. Leaving your love unclear, choosing not to tread through the rapid waters just yet. -but what did that matter anyway, when he had kissed you with such intense emotion? You’re concerned for him. You’re worried for him. You love him. You love him. You love him. Nathan wants to bury his mind so deep within your thoughts, like a warm blanket that kept all of his self-made fears of intimacy at bay. That made them disappear.

    Nathan doesn’t want to show you what he had seen. What someone had made him see. He doesn’t want you to experience the fear, the pain. Despite all of his confusion, his pain, what he did know was that he was never going to let that happen. He didn’t care what timeline he had to tear apart, what plan for the future he had to ruin. He had lost so much in life, but he wasn’t going to lose you. Not again. Not ever.

[neonoddeye]

A lesson in physics | College! Gojo Satoru x Reader

In these trying times, I will provide: a college au! I actually wrote this as a birthday present for my best friend, but I wanted to post it here as well. It’s also my first chaptered fic, yay! I hope you enjoy :)

CONTENT INCLUDES: AFAB! Reader, cursing, Gojo and reader are both in college and everything is NORMAL and HAPPY, Gojo is a frat boy, enemies to friends to lovers, will be NSFW in later chapter (MINORS DNI)

Monday, 12:00pm

Working with Satoru Gojo on a class assignment was a horror you only conjured in your nightmares. And as you look at the physics class assignment on your laptop screen, you realize you wouldn’t be waking up from this one any time soon.

“Oh god, him?” Your roommate Shoko joins your gaze of disgust as she glances at your fate. “You’re gonna end up doing the whole thing by yourself!”

“Don���t remind me” you whine, leaning back in your chair and placing a hand on your forehead in dramatic distress. “Can I switch with you?”

“Hell no, I’m securing this A with Nanami” Shoko laughs, patting you on the back as a poor attempt at pity. “But we’ll be praying for you.”

You and Shoko had just left said physics class, the two of you lounging at the library to get a head start on the week’s assignments. You couldn’t help but truly stress over your predicament instead of starting on your homework, however: everyone and their mom knew of Gojo Satoru and his infamous Kappa Alpha frat boy title. Ever since he was on your dorm floor freshman year of college, you’ve harbored a vendetta against him. While you were immune to his mesmerizing blue eyes and undeniable charisma, most of your friends weren’t, and pursued him in droves. With every poor girl’s broken heart that he stomped on, your hatred grew, until you infamously bashed him at his frat’s party that same year. While his reputation was almost impenetrable in the eyes of his male friends, you definitely did a little damage to him from the outside. Two years later, you never thought you’d have to deal with him again- until you both enrolled in the same physics class. Hell, you didn’t even think he had the brain capacity to handle a STEM major. And now, you have to work alongside him; you can’t help but question the universe and wonder what you ever did wrong to deserve this.

“Guess I’ll get his contact info” you sigh, pulling up the list of class emails and scrolling for his name.

“Hey! Y/N, right?” You hear a familiar voice ahead of you. Your lab partner, Gojo Satoru, has already found you in the library. The devil works hard, but Gojo works harder. 

“Hey Gojo” you reply monotonously, barely glancing at him over your laptop screen. He’s dressed like a poster frat boy, wearing a dark blue knitted sweater vest over a crisp white button-up paired with slim khakis. His paper white hair is unkempt yet tamed, and his irritating blue eyes sit behind round gold-rimmed glasses. His trademark smirk is replaced by an awkward smile as he approaches you; it’s good to know your blow at his ego was permanent.

“Uh, long time no see” Gojo continues while messing with his disheveled hair, “did you see we’re working on that project together?”

You can’t help but let out a belated sigh. “I sure did. You have any ideas for it yet?“

“Oh nah, I haven’t really looked at the whole thing yet. Do you wanna start it right now? I have time.”

“Oh uh, I have to leave for class in 15 minutes.” In reality, your next class starts in an hour; you just didn’t feel like talking to him right now. Still, you keep up the act by packing your belongings to head out.

“Oh that’s all good. Here,” Gojo hands you his phone, presenting an empty contact card for you to fill out. “Let’s set up a time to work on it later. We have two weeks, but I wanna get it over with”.

“Well, that’s something we agree on” you mutter, filling out your contact info on his cracked iPhone screen. You then hand his phone back to him and rise from your seat. “I’m usually free after 4pm. Just remember to actually text me back, Gojo. I know you’re not very good at that.”

“I will, I will,” he chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender to your threat. “Promise!” he holds up a pinky and winks at you, to which you roll your eyes and head back towards the door. You’re really hoping these next two weeks aren’t as difficult as you think they’ll be.

Thankfully, Gojo actually responded, and the two of you agreed to Tuesday evening at the library. You’re currently waiting for your project partner at a cozy corner desk, taking out your notes and laptop to begin the assignment. It’s 5 minutes past the agreed upon time when Gojo saunters up to you; honestly, you thought he’d show up later or forget entirely, so you’re not upset.

“Sorry, club meeting ran a little later than usual,” he says as he slumps into the couch across from you, his legs dangling over the armrest. “I got you this, too,” he adds, sliding a Red Bull over to you. “I don’t know how long we’re working on this tonight, but I thought I’d get us both one, just in case”.

“Oh, thanks. I got something already, though,” you reply, picking up your thermos of espresso and politely pushing back the offering. “What club are you in?” It seems like you’re both attempting to make amends to make the project a little easier.

“I’m in an astrophysics club. It’s nothing much, tho”, he shrugs. We just talk about nerdy shit and occasionally do projects and stuff.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t expect that from you”, you lean back in your chair, now slightly interested in the man before you.

“Yeah, I actually do more than just party.” Gojo adds while taking out his own supplies. “Believe it or not, I’m not the same guy I was freshman year”.

“You’re gonna have to prove it to me, I’m afraid”, you retort. If he’s trying to charm you, it won’t work. 

Gojo clears his throat. “Anyway, here are some ideas I had for the project”. He slides his notebook closer to you, revealing a page full of bullet points aptly titled “project ideas.” His handwriting is messy, but legible, and as you read his notes you’re reluctantly impressed by his insightfulness and creativity. Gojo reveals that he actually stayed behind at his club to relay his ideas and ask for tips, admitting he was more interested in the material than he thought he’d be. As you lean over the table to point out one particular idea, you catch a hint of cologne from him. You can tell it’s not a cheap scent, with notes of mandarin and cypress above amber and leather. His hair is slightly neater than it was yesterday, and up close you can tell that his skin is flawless. You’re almost annoyed at his effortlessly attractive appearance; no wonder so many people fawn over him. 

An hour passes briskly, with the two of you making ample progress with the project. Surprisingly, the two of you work well together, even getting off topic a few times to discuss frivolous subjects. You learned that he likes watching cartoons and reading, and wants to go into research after college. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for holding a grudge over him for so long; it seems like he really has changed. 

After 30 more minutes, Gojo stands up to stretch. “Alright, we’re done with the outline”, he yawns, taking a sip of his Red Bull. “I don't wanna keep you too long, how about we call it for the night?” 

“Sounds good to me”, you yawn in response, closing your notebook. “It takes me a bit to walk home, anyway”.

“You’re walking home by yourself? At dark?” Gojo questions you with genuine concern in his words. “I can drive you home, if you want”.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I do it all the time”, you shrug.

“It’s no big deal to me”, he flashes a small smile. “I respect having the balls to walk home alone at night, but I’d be a dick to not offer”.

“Sure, why not. I appreciate it”. You smile back, getting up to follow Gojo to his car. As you walk with him to his car, the two of you excitedly discuss a new anime you’ve both been watching. You didn’t take him as the type to be an anime guy either, but he’s surprised you a lot today. When you get to his car, it’s as nice as you expect it to be: a slick silver BMW with a clean interior, accompanied by a new car smell. Of course he has money, too. He’s not a menace to society on the road either, and the low hum of his Spotify playlist accompanies the small talk. 

“By the way”, Gojo pipes up after a moment of silence, “I feel like shit for how I acted to your friends freshman year. You were right to call me out like that”.

“I know”, you reply, with a hint of playfulness in your tone. He chuckles in response. 

“No offense taken. But really, I hope we can be on good terms now. I had a good time, even if we were working on an assignment.”

“Unfortunately, I think I did too”. He’s pulling up to the entrance of your apartment complex, and parks neatly by the door. 

“Next time, how about we work at my place? Only if you want to though, just thought I’d suggest some place quieter”.

“I’m down”, you nod, “I could bring snacks, too”. 

“Sounds like a deal. See you on Thursday, Y/N”. He gives you a short wave as you exit his car, and even makes sure to watch you get inside safely. As you walk to your apartment, you battle with your renewed thoughts of the frat boy you once detested. After being alone with him for an extended period of time, you hate to admit that you can see the appeal; he’s handsome, charming, and seems to have mellowed out over the years. But should you really be giving Satoru Gojo a chance?

Fuck it, you might.

(Stay tuned for part 2!)

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

02 fly high. where you have yet to realize what ushijima will mean to you.

<< 01 clear skies. | >> 03 shining light.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: double post this week, I'm feeling like i need some motivation to keep going. i wrote this a while ago, and am super excited with how this part ends, but i still feel like the flow isn’t the best here… word count: 1.4k warnings: some angst if you squint terms: furoshiki -- cloth that is used to wrap bento

june, first year

“curry rice!” you grin at the ash blonde haired boy, plopping a neatly wrapped bento on his desk as you slide into the seat in front of him. ever since your brother introduced you to him, he has become a constant in your everyday school life to the point that the two of you are almost inseparable. 

“are you coming over after practice again? we have that japanese homework that i need your help with” you shrug off your jacket, sweat sticking to your skin from the walk to school. summer is coming on quickly now, coaxing the spring blossoms that you loved so much away. 

semi hums in agreement as he unties the furoshiki and opens the bento excitedly. “it smells amazing, y/n! i am hungry thinking about it now even though i had breakfast.” he pouts at you. 

you laugh wholeheartedly, feeling something like satisfaction. it is one thing to have your family compliment your cooking, another to hear such sincere praises from your friends. you think this might just be it. high school might be better than you thought after all. after all the disappointments and heartbreaks from junior high and even before that. 

“thanks, eita. now keep it before you make the whole class hungry.” you poke fun at him as you pull out another set of wrapped bento, this one in plain cat print. it was the plainest, non-feminine-screaming furoshiki you could find after the one with crashing waves that you wrapped semi’s bento in. 

you didn’t normally bring bentos to school since both your parents are always busy with work. even this furoshiki is a recent addition after you graduated from junior high, when you started packing some meals for yourself. 

“so, you remember how ushijima-san helped me with my wound a few days ago?” you sound hesitant even to yourself. inside, you wanted to kick yourself for following through with this now that you are actually in the process of it, but it is too late. so you might as well get it over with. “i made an extra portion for him to thank him for his help… could you pass it to him at practice?”

“ehhh, why does he get one too? i have known you for two months now and it’s only my first time receiving a bento from you.”

you roll your eyes at the boy. “if you help me, i will make you a strawberry shortcake.” bribing him is easy when you knew he enjoyed the cake you shared last week. you breathe a sigh of relief when he does not pursue the topic any further. 

semi is quite the competitive persona, so it did not surprise you when that was the tangent he went off in, instead of the typical, do you like him? that other people would assume. this is good for you. you do not want him to misunderstand your intentions, and it’s not like you harbor those feelings for ushijima. you just strongly dislike the feeling of being in anyone’s debt. 

“how is practice for interhigh matches going anyway?” you smile at your newfound friend who you got along with as naturally as breathing. 

yes, high school will be different. i will see it so. 

it is pouring outside later that afternoon regardless of how clear the skies were when you walked to school in the morning. the sound of volleyball practice fades into the background as you pull out a blank music sheet and start scribbling the tune that has been rattling around your head today. 

today, when you climbed the stairs to the gymnasium and watched the practice match your school is playing against the college team that came in, you had expected to experiment with the melody when you get home later. you note that the usual starting lineup were on court, with the exception of one of the wingspikers being subbed out for ushijima. even though he is just a new first year. perhaps this is the lineup that the coach has in mind for the interhigh tournament, you had thought. 

and even though you have seen countless of your brother’s matches over the years, this one felt different. the spiking form of the player as he begins his approach, swinging both arms backwards before leaving the ground, feet kicked out behind him, and making contact with the ball with his left hand, sending it back into the opponent’s courtside, felt different. 

it had felt like you were given wings to soar high above the clouds when all life did was cover up the blue skies that you loved so much. it had felt like coming up for a full breath of fresh air after being dunked in water. it had felt like you were alive again, for once in a very long time. 

and the melody that you had been crafting takes on a life of its own, taking its first flight from your hands and rise high up into the sky. twisting, turning. triumphant. the notes flow onto the sheet as your hand struggles to keep up with your mind. 

before you know it, you hear semi calling your name from the court. eh, the match is over? you glance at your watch, showing two hours after when you arrived at the court. “yes! be right there!” you yell back, swinging your belongings onto your shoulder and making your way downstairs. 

music sheet in hand, mind far ahead of yourself, wanting to play it on your violin already, you venture to find your friend. semi is standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed while waiting for you. “were you paying any attention to the game, y/n?”

“what– take a look at this first,” you shove the paper in his hands, excitedly waiting for his response. one could say one of the reasons you two got along so well is your love for music. 

he takes his sweet time reading your rough draft and giving you a “hmph” before returning it to you. “fine, i forgive you for missing my set. this is an acceptable excuse, i suppose. it is no small feat to overcome a creative block.”  

semi shoots you a mischievous smile before slinging his arm over your shoulders and messing your hair up with his other hand. “SEMI”

“well done! but no next time though” “no promises”

another voice cuts through the air, stopping both of you from making a bigger scene. you had resorted to trying to make his hair stick up vertically as revenge. 

“miyamura-san…” ushjima holds out the cat clothed bento to you, slightly amused by you and semi. “thanks for the curry rice, it was delicious.” 

“waa, a compliment from ushijima-san, your cooking must have been amazing, miyamura-san,” a red-haired boy pokes his head out from behind ushijima, whom you would later learn is none other than tendo satori, a troublesome boy who always seemed to be able to see through you. 

you beam at his compliment, “heh, thanks guys.” swinging your bag to the front, you shuffle the things around in your bag to make space for the box. he had neatly tied the furoshiki around the box, which caught you by surprise, as semi had returned his to you in a clumsily packed fashion. you surmise that the rising ace in front of you is an athlete who probably likes to keep his life neat and in order, he seems like the type. 

“so what are you up to later, semi-semi?” 

“ah, i am going to y/n’s to study”

“can i come with? i have nothing else to do.”

“no! if you’re so free you can practice more volleyball.” 

semi banters with the red-haired boy, which sounds like a regular occasion to you. you chuckle to yourself, picturing ushijima, the stoic spiker, playing the referee between the two boys. now that would be entertaining to watch. 

your eyes meet ushijima’s, to which he raises his eyebrow at you as if he’s saying what’s so funny? you shrug, feigning innocence before turning away from him. 

neither of you realized it at the time, but ushijima gave you wings to fly, even before you really knew each other. 

looking for more? browse the collection

[smolmakerel]

"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"

Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"

Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.

Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.

"Why?" Tara shot back instead.

Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."

What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?

"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.

"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."

At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.

"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"

"Because... I uh..."

"Take your time."

Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.

"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."

"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."

Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.

"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."

"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."

Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."

"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."

Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."

Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.

Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.

"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.

"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"

Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.

"No," Tara claimed instead.

Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"

Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."

Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.

"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."

'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.

"Ok."

Fuck.

[♡♡♡]

Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.

Then she knocked.

The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"

"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"

"Tara."

Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.

"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.

Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."

It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.

She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.

"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.

Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

[panda-writes-kpop]

the dreadful need in the devotee ~ lee gahyeon

a/n: sorry for all my international folks, I know I'm late (curse you comp sci homework for taking hours to complete) but happy Gahyeon day!! here's your daily dose of existensial dread and sadness in case you haven't felt that way recently :] (all jokes, but apparently I was in my feels when I wrote this)

tw: fluff to sadness, main character death, car accident, some religious elements, we almost got a happy ending folks

acknowledgements: inspired by hozier's talk and the pjo series on Disney plus!

word count: 2.8k

summary: a recollection of the five times you couldn't look at Gahyeon and the one time you did, but it's staged during a modern retelling of one of my favorite greek myths of all time (5+1 trope my beloved <3)

♡ Masterlist ♡

As the burning taste of alcohol travels down your throat, you think about why you’re here on a Wednesday night.

Here wasn’t home, the place you most often were found. Home was your paradise, your inspiration for your work - but you had been in a rut lately. Nothing seemed to spark your creativity, not even a hot drink and a warm bath would do.

So you wandered down the street, hoping to find something that would make you and your work feel alive again. Instead, the couples you passed on the street only chose to dig at a wound that you had covered with the patchwork of self-isolation.

Since tonight was an utter failure, much like most nights this month, you turned to the one thing that made everything a little better - booze. A drink sounded nice, especially as the last couple you passed discussed their wedding and future together.

You slid into the first bar that you found that was not too far from your apartment. Five blocks was a new record for you, considering that every store you needed was only two or three blocks from your apartment. Maybe you’d print out a certificate so you’d have some marker of success to hang on your wall.

World’s Most Introverted Person Travels Two Blocks Farther Than Usual!

You need another hobby besides drinking and bad jokes.

You’d turn to art, but blank pages and screens peek out at you from every corner of your apartment. That wasn’t an option, and you had already used all your daily wanderlust to find a bar, so drinking would have to do.

It wasn’t like the bar was busy or anything - weeknight traffic was slow, especially on Wednesday. You were sitting at the bar, making occasional idle chatter with the bartender and another patron who seemed to be in a worse state of despair than you.

You were fine in your bubble, and it wasn’t like anything would pop it any time soon-

Then you see her.

Your eyes landed on a group of girls sitting in a corner, but the girl that draws your attention is everything you had imagined and so much more. With bright pink hair, it was impossible to see anything but here.

She was a beautiful white lily among the tall grass, a sweet melody floated over syncopated beats. She was the sun, and you were a comet that was about to crash into her orbit. She was everything, and you were nothing.

…And she was looking right at you.

Fuuuuuck.

You immediately look away when she bounces up to you - she’s probably going to talk to that other person, right?

You couldn’t look her in the eyes, even when she, in all of her beautiful glory, was right in front of you. 

“Do you want to join us for drinks?” Her eyes are inviting as she holds her hand out to you.

You try to find a reason to say no, but she sparks something within you. Something warm and kind, buried under the safety blanket that you wrapped your heart in.

She wasn’t your inspiration, not yet, at least. A muse, perhaps?

Whatever divine intervention brought you together was well needed.

Even though you couldn’t look her in the eyes until you were both drunk enough to forget everything but each other.

~

Gahyeon, her name was. 

Even though the headache fucking sucked (but was so worth it, considering the extra phone number in your contacts), things started to look up for you. You could actually produce art, which meant that you could pay your landlord on time.

Your apartment was a mess while you were in a funk - a proper decluttering was in order. If you weren’t inspired to do art, you definitely weren’t inspired to do household chores. You shudder as your mother’s voice reprimands you about keeping your place tidy.

Perhaps sending proof of life would get her voice out of your head. Yet again, she’d probably call you and then want to visit, which would make things worse.

Suddenly, doing the dishes instead of mentally stalling doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Tedious doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards the stacks upon stacks on dishes, which hadn’t grown mold or attracted flies, thank god. You decide to set your phone aside (you’d checked it three times since you decided to do the dishes, maybe you need to get a safe to throw it into) before filling the sink with water.

As you add soap to the water, your phone chimes. You shut off the water, as flooding your apartment would be worse than cold water, you reason.

You were sober enough to put Gahyeon’s name in your phone, but your capitalization skills were a bit… questionable.

gAhyEOn: hey u up?

    some friends and I went drinking last night, and I need a pick-me-up.

    you wanna go for coffee?

Coffee? As in a coffee date? As in you’ll be face-to-face with Gahyeon alone, after you probably made a fool of yourself a few nights ago? 

Well, you don’t remember much about that night, do you?

God damn you, vodka, you taste good in too many mixed drinks.

You quickly respond with a ‘Sure! What time?’ after contemplating what to say for an uncomfortable amount of time.

gAhyEOn: Does thirty minutes work for you?

    I’ll send you the address, see if you can make it there in time.

Your phone buzzes, and afterwards, you plug the address into Google Maps - it’s only a block farther than the bar you met Gahyeon in. If you quickly scrubbed a few dishes and put proper clothes on (the Pokemon pajamas were cute but not ideal for a “first date”), you could make it there in thirty minutes if you run-walked.

You send her a confirmation text, telling her that the time and place will work. You manage to finish a quarter of the dishes (you’ll totally finish the rest of the dishes instead of continuing your latest masterpiece) before throwing on a comfortable outfit that’s perfect for a first date. You grab your wallet and phone before heading out of your apartment. 

The walk to the cafe takes a lot less time than you had considered, but that was probably because you were going through a hundred and one different ways that you could make a fool of yourself.

Although you nearly ran headfirst into a pole when you saw Gahyeon waving at you in the distance, you had made it to the café.

Even if you were a bit too embarrassed to look her in the eyes, a bit sweaty from run-walking here, especially after she told you off for being late.

“You’re five minutes late. I thought I told you thirty minutes, not thirty-five-”

“In my defense,” You raise your hands in the air, “I’m worse at directions when I’m sober.”

“If you buy me coffee, I may forgive you.”

“Let’s test that theory, huh?” You open the door for her as she gracefully smiles.

You let out a nervous sigh before closing the door behind you. You’ve got this, right?

Maybe the gods would push some luck in your favor.

~

Gahyeon didn’t think you were a total loser, so that was a plus.

She even agreed to a proper first date, and then a second, next a third, and you’d somehow convinced her to become your girlfriend… which meant that she would be moving in with you since you’d been dating for a year and a half.

Time flies.

“Can you help me with these boxes, babe?”

After shoving more of your supplies (holy fuck how much shit did you own) into a spare closet, you join Gahyeon at the door to receive the box that she had in her hands.

“I got it,” You say before immediately swearing after the box rests in your arms, “what did you put in here, a bowling ball?”

“Three, actually,” Gahyeon offers a sweet smile as you shake your head, “it’s just the first box of my clothes. You can set it in the bedroom, if you would.”

“The things I do for you.” You scoff before shifting the weight in the box (seriously, what was in here?).

You take a few steps forward as Gahyeon wanders around your apartment. She peeks into the room you just left before letting out a gasp.

“You didn’t move your work so I could have more space, did you?”

You pause, not turning to meet her eye, as she accusingly charges toward you.

“Yah, babe, I told you to leave that stuff there! You know how much I love seeing your work.”

You hightail it to the bedroom before she tackles you into a warm hug. You both dissolve into giggles, heavy boxes and caring anger set aside, as you enjoy her presence.

“I love you.” She whispers before kissing your lips.

You wonder what god of love was paid off in order to match you and Gahyeon, but you didn’t care. Everything worked, you two worked, and your work spoke for itself.

That’s all you ever needed.

~ 

A wedding ring was the other thing you needed.

You had fiddled with the ring for ages, wondering when would be the right time to propose. 

Gahyeon deserved the best, after all.

So you just asked her one day, when the moment was right.

And she said yes before bursting out into tears. You were quick to comfort her, of course, but you felt like you had ascended to another plane of reality.

Finally, everything made sense.

Your creative energy was at a high, so you were producing plenty of work. You were ahead on rent, enough so that you could save up for a house and a wedding, eventually.

Gahyeon stood in the kitchen, admiring the ring on her left hand, as you wrapped your arm around her waist.

“The ring’s pretty.” She says absentmindedly as you squeeze your arms, which makes her laugh. “What’s up?”

“I got bored. Something told me to go out here and check up on you.” You give a small shrug before kissing her cheek. “What are you up to?”

“I’m going to head to the store by my old place to pick up a few things. Do you want anything?”

For some reason, your stomach sinks. But why, you wonder? She made this trip often, what was so awful about it now?

“Are you sure you don’t want to go down the street, to the convenience store?” You try to convince her as she shakes her head and manages to escape your grasp.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” She turns to give you a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing the car keys on the table, “are you worried about me?”

“Maybe.” You give a noncommittal answer before checking the clock. “Be home for dinner!”

“I will, I promise.” She walks away and grabs the doorknob before turning back to you. “Hey!”

“Hey what?”

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Gahyeon winks at you as you look away in embarrassment. 

It’s crazy that she still has this effect on you, years later.

She laughs before shutting the door as you stare at the front door to your apartment like a lovesick golden retriever waiting for their human to return.

You couldn’t wait for her to return back into your arms, so you could make dinner and spend the rest of your night together.

~

Four hours.

It had been four hours since Gahyeon left.

Should you be worried?

She would’ve texted, called, told you if she would’ve been late. Gahyeon expected the same of you, even though you weren’t the most prompt person at times. 

You should stop pacing before you have to add carpet replacement to your laundry list of things to buy. The sun had gone down, but that meant that traffic must’ve been heavy, right?

You need to take a walk before you worry yourself into an early grave.

You grab a light jacket before exiting your apartment. Taking a walk around the block has always helped clear your mind, but your heart pangs with a new hurt as Gahyeon always liked to go on walks with you.

She was fine, she had to be fine.

You round the corner, only to want to immediately retreat back into your home.

A car accident.

The worst part?

Gahyeon’s car was among the wreckage.

Police officers pushed the surrounding crowd back, and you scream when you see an EMT pick a bloody ring out from among the wreckage.

Not just any ring.

Her ring.

You can’t look anymore.

~

You hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks.

You hadn’t created anything since the day she died.

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days.

Five-hundred and four hours.

Thirty-thousand, two-hundred forty minutes.

You can’t breathe, can’t think.

You need to open a window.

The light casts a gentle glow over your apartment.

It’s a wreck. You’re a wreck. 

How fitting.

Your phone rings. It’s probably your mother, asking why you didn’t come to Sunday dinner for the third time in a row.

You can’t tell her about Gahyeon, you could barely face her parents and tell them what happened. You were choked up then, and you hadn’t felt much better since.

Your heart had been ripped from your chest.

You pick up your phone anyway.

“Do you want to see her again?” A deep male voice echoes from your phone speaker as you sigh.

“You have the wrong number. Have a good day.” You say with no emotion as the voice quickly replies.

“It’s Gahyeon. I have Gahyeon.”

“Who are you? Where is she?”

“Go to the bar where you first met. I’ll meet you there and take you to her.” 

“Hold on, how do I know you’re not-”

You pause as you hear the other line beep repeatedly. 

He hung up on me. What a dick.

~

“What do you want?” You gruffly ask as you slide into a booth opposite a man dressed in an all-black suit.

He fixes his silver locks for a moment before looking you up and down.

“You want the girl back?”

“Gahyeon,” You correct, “and I want her here as much as her family does.”

“Would you do anything for her?”

“Yes.” You answer immediately as the man smiles.

“Good, good.” He snaps his fingers as the scenery around you changes. 

You’re forced on your feet as the booth disappears behind you.

“What the fuck-” You look at the walls, which expand in every direction and then disappear behind walls of fire and stone.

The man walks forward as a set of stairs appears before him.

“Who are you?” You ask as the ground underneath you begins to shift.

“Death, not the devil.” He answers after sitting down on a throne made of fire and magma. “I have a proposition for you, since your love for Gahyeon has moved my wife. I’m feeling rather…. generous, shall we say?”

“What’s the catch?”

“You have to take the long way out, with you leading and her behind. You can’t look back to see if she’s there, you have to trust yourself and trust her. Understood?”

“I-” You pause while weighing your options.

Could you lead her out of Hell? A dangerous adventure, sure, but it would be worth it to bring her home.

“I accept.”

Death snaps his finger before a door to your left appears.

“Walk through that door and begin your journey.” 

You place your hand on the door before looking back at him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you get to the other side.”

~

You didn’t expect walking through hell to be a cake walk, but you were absolutely exhausted. 

Who knows if death himself didn’t trick you in the first place? 

You couldn’t look to see if Gahyeon was behind you, and you couldn’t hear her speaking as well.

You just had to trust yourself and trust her.

You trusted Gahyeon, of course you did, but did you trust yourself enough that you wouldn’t have been fooled?

Everyone in hell is looking at you as you climb up towards the exit.

You can do this. You should do this.

Is she really behind me?

You should keep going. You have to keep going.

Your footsteps begin to slow as your breath becomes ragged. You were tired, but you were almost there.

You see the light, see everything that you would have again.

You reach out to embrace the light, you’re almost there.

Is she there?

Gahyeon gasps as your eyes connect with hers.

“You… were there.”

“I always was.” She softly answers before backing up towards the darkness.

“I made a mistake.” You try to reach out and grab her, but she’s fading away from you.

“I know.”

“I love you.” A tear falls from your eye as she disappears into nothingness.

“I know.”

Just like that, she was gone, and you were alone.

[04mxfutbol]

Reality (Pt. 3) (Christen Press x Reader)

A/N: I did in fact do the two versions haha. This is Alternate version 2. I hope you all enjoy it! (:

“I’m done. We’re done.” Justin said as he walked out the door.

He didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who was still hung up on someone else. He had also read the notes you had written her. And read the notes she wrote for you. He had read them from the binder under her bed.

Christen stood in front of the door. Shocked and confused. Should she run out and save her relationship? Yes. But she didn’t.

Instead Christen ran out of her parents home as fast as she could and as soon as she did she ran to her neighbors house. Knocking frantically on the door.

“I’m coming!” Christen hears the voice of her neighbor shout. “Christen?”

“What did you mean?” Christen asks, her neighbor furrowing her eyebrows, confused as hell.

“Mean about what?”

“Years ago you told me that I should know something, when Y/N wasn’t with me.” Christen says.

“You still haven’t figured it out? Oh god. Come in, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Okay so what did you mean?” Christen asks again as she takes a seat on the couch. “Tell me.”

“You loved her Christen.”

“What?”

“Come on I knew it from the moment she walked you home the first time. You looked at her like she was practically the only person in the world.”

“She was my best friend?”

“You can’t tell me you’re seriously still in denial.”

“I-.”

“Close your eyes. Just close them and trust me.” Her neighbor says, Christen does as told. She closes her eyes.

“Now what?”

“Think back to that day, the first time she walked you home. Christen remember what happened that day.”

“Christen did you hear me?” You ask. “Christen?”

“Huh? Oh yeah that’s my house.” Christen says making you laugh.

"She asked me where my house was." Christen says, only making her neighbor laugh.

"No she didn't."

"Yes she did, I remember she did."

"Trust me I was there and that's not what she asked you, think harder."

“No I said if you want to work on the homework tomorrow.” You say as you approach her house. “I know where you live because you’ve pointed it out already.”

“Right right. Yeah let’s work on it.”

“Great.”

“Are you okay? You seem weird.” You say as you touch her forehead. “You’re sweating.”

“I’m fine.”

"You were never good at hiding it, I don't know how Y/N never saw it. Maybe it's because she loved you too."

"What? Since then?"

"You were too blind to it, but the look in her eyes said it all. I don't think she even knew it yet, so can't say."

"Wait what was I not good at hiding?" Christen asks.

"You're pretty dumb Christen. You're smart in many ways but I guess I shouldn't be surprised you suck at love."

"Hey that's rude."

"You never actually saw what you did when you were with her."

"I don't understand."

"Eight grade. After she had told you about her feelings, high school when she had her first date. I think you're forgetting I was there all the time. Most importantly July fourth of our junior year. I think you buried that one so deep for a reason."

"July fourth, the carnival?"

"The carnival yes. A lot happened that day, I was there with the both of you."

"So you're really not going to Stanford with me?" Christen asks you as you get on a ride.

"I can't."

"Why? You have a full ride scholarship."

"I just can't but you and I can't be apart one another for so long. You can call me whenever you want."

"I suppose so." Christen says and you smile.

"I love you, you're my best friend." You whisper, Christen nods as she grabs your hand.

"I love you too."

"She didn't want to go to Stanford with me."

"I wonder why." Her neighbor says as they crossed their arms.

"She loved me again?" Christen says.

"Oh Christen be serious right now, she never stopped loving you. Sure at one point those feelings weren't there anymore, but she never stopped loving you."

"She didn't?" Christen asks and her neighbor shakes their head.

"God no and neither did you."

"I-."

"You know what else happened that day?"

"What?"

Christen's neighbor gets up from the couch, opening a drawer as they grabbed something.

"This picture happened at seven pm at the carnival.”

It all flood right back in. Like if she was there again. Everything. She remembered that moment.

"You still don't understand that I don't like sweet things." You tell Christen as she tries to feed you some cotton candy. "Christen!"

"Yes you do, you especially love cotton candy." Christen says and you shake your head. "Open your mouth Y/N."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Open your mouth."

"Christen no damn it."

"Y/N open your mouth or I will open it for you."

"Alright you two, stop fighting and let me take a picture of you two, here's to the carnival before we all go to college next year."

Christen rested her head on your shoulder, and while you looked at the camera, Christen was looking at you.

"Alright three, two, one. Done. You guys come look at the pic- never mind."

"Wait why not?" You ask confused, wanting to see the picture. "I want to see it."

"Just trust me."

"Can I see?" Christen asks.

"Not today."

"Then when?" Christen asks, her neighbor putting the camera away.

"For your own good, and for her own good never." They whisper to Christen.

"Why are you showing me this picture now?" Christen asks as she looks at the picture. The smile on both your faces, Christen couldn't look away.

"I knew back then you were going to love this picture but it also meant you would shove your feelings even deeper, meaning you'd push her away even more than what you already had."

"Probably." Christen says, still not able to look away from the picture.

"You still have it."

"Have what?"

"For a Stanford graduate you really are stupid."

"No I'm not and that's mean."

"You still have that look in your eyes Christen, this is the first time you see that picture and your eyes lit up. But you had that same look when we took the picture, and the times she'd walk you home. That look was on your face anytime she was around but you never really realized."

"It was always me and her."

"Trust me Christen, everyone knew that."

"No they didn't."

"Christen. Trust me, everyone knew. Everyone knew it."

“The first day I met her she caught my attention, actually false. She never knew it but when she sat behind me, I’d hear her laugh with her friends, I don’t know why but her laugh caught my attention.”

“Ah yes history.”

“She didn’t laugh often, she was really shy. But when she would, I’d hear her laugh and I’d smile.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“And her eyes.”

“Oh the eyes.” Her neighbor says.

“But then we formally met at practice in seventh grade. We shook hands for the first time and maybe it was the static from the stupid jersey but I felt a spark. I know cheesy but I felt it.”

“You loved her since the moment you met her, well actually since the moment you heard her laugh. God that’s so cheesy.”

Christen held the picture, never looking away. You two against the world, Christen remembered what she felt that moment. Her heart beating faster than what she could remember, her smile bigger than ever, and all she wanted to say was that she loved you from the moment she heard your laugh.

“I tried not to love her, I tried pushing those feelings away, I didn’t want to lose my best friend.”

“I mean you did either way.”

“When she told me she liked me I panicked, I didn’t want people to know. I just-.”

“You were scared.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still scared? Christen. You’ve grown and so has she but she’s been heartbroken enough. You let her go. You put her through so much pain. As your friend I’m telling you this because I love you. You were a shit friend to her and it amazed me how despite everything you did, she still wanted to be friends with you.”

“I know.”

"Do you? Do you really?"

"Yes, yes I know."

“Then tell me why are you so scared? Why have you been scared? Why were you trying to push these feelings away?”

“I don’t know I guess the thought of loving someone so much scared me and it still scares me. I was never as open as she was, she was so okay and open about her sexuality I mean granted she definitely had times when she was not as open of what she felt but she knew who she was, she wasn't afraid. I’m not her, I’m still not as secure and open of my own sexuality, because it's terrifying. I don’t want people seeing me differently, but also I want to be myself. And I constantly think about, what if I did tell her how I have felt this entire time. And what if one day she just decides that she doesn’t love me anymore. What if she realizes I'm not as good of a person as she thought I was. What if she realizes I'm not as secure and open as she is.”

“Christen she put up with you for a long time, and when you would run back to her she would lay her heart out again. For you. She’ll always love you because you’re you. But we both know she has always been sensitive, she feels feelings really deeply. But she would never love you any less because you're still trying to feel secure, that you're still accepting it fully. To accept yourself.”

“There were rumors you know? That she and I were dating.” Christen says as she looks at the picture that’s in her hand.

“I know. The rumors weren't helping either. Thinking you two were dating, but obviously weren't but at times it seemed otherwise. Christen, everyone knew but you, oh and Y/N."

“I pushed her away after that. It was never the same after that. I pushed her away for too long.”

“She saw you date many people, hell you dragged her with you when you were outside of the cafeteria talking to some guy.”

“She made me feel safe.”

“It was destroying her Christen. Everyone wanted to give you space with the guy but as soon as Y/N was walking away to also do the same you grabbed her and told her to stay with you because you didn’t want to be alone.”

“I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Do you know how uncomfortable that must’ve been for her?”

"I mean now I do."

"Y/N came here a couple of weeks ago and we talked."

"About?"

"Stuff that's between me and her."

"Secrets?"

"Always. But she mentioned you don't like Alex? You're very rude towards Alex?"

"She gets on my nerves." Christen says scratching her leg.

"You're jealous that Alex spends a lot of time with Y/N. You're jealous that she's spending so much time with Y/N like you used to with her."

"That's not true."

"I'm telling you what you need to hear. I'm telling you the truth, I'm telling you what I should've told you a long time ago."

"You don't know Alex, she gets on my nerves."

"I've met Alex, she's nice. You're just jealous."

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"I’m not trying to argue. I’m simply helping you see the reality I see. Can you just try and talk to Y/N maybe ask for forgiveness for once? She deserves an apology, she needs one."

"I don't think she'd even want to talk to me." Christen says as she looks down at the picture again. "She hates me."

"She could never hate you."

"I know, but sometimes I wish she could just hate me. Wouldn't it make it easier?"

"Then you'd be a mess. Christen just try to talk to Y/N, if nothing is resolved at least everything comes out and becomes clear. You both would get some closure."

"I still want her in my life."

"I hate to tell you this, but unless you clear the air, you shouldn't have her in your life, Y/N is Y/N. I think she deserves a life without so much pain. Not that you don’t have pain but she’s one to not let go easily.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to her I just haven’t gotten the courage to do so.” Christen says.

“Don’t force yourself to do so, when you think it’s right to talk to her for the RIGHT reasons I’m sure you’ll know.”

“Thanks.”

“She’s home this week. You didn’t hear it from me though.”

“Really?” Christen asks.

“It’s the Fourth of July. She always comes home for the Fourth of July.”

Fourth of July.

“Right.”

“Who knows maybe you two could revisit an old place this weekend.”

- - - -

You were on the floor when Alex entered your room. You were grabbing the box from under your bed. You opened it and there it was, two folded pieces of paper. You grabbed the first one, unfolding it and knowing, it was part one of Christen’s note to you. The fact that it was written in pencil gave it away that it was part one. Part two was written in red pen.

Dead Turtle,

When I first met you, you were so shy. I asked you a semi awkward question but yet you answered anyway. Since then we became best friends. You never really talked to me the first year of our friendship but instead you communicated with me by notes. I liked that. It was adorable…

A whole page. A whole page that she had written for you. That was part 1. You pulled out the second part of the note. Flipping it to the back as you remembered something about it.

Part 3 until Friday. There’s four parts. I love you so so soooooo much.

You remembered it all too well, Friday came but the third part didn’t. Neither did the fourth. It never got to your hands. You had asked Christen when you’d get them but she said another day. That day never came.

“You can’t just mope around in your room.” Alex says as she takes the blanket off of you.

“I have moved on in a way where I don’t necessarily think about her often. I have a life.” You say grabbing the blanket from Alex.

“I know that.”

“But even though I can have a normal day and you know laugh and hang out with friends. I sometimes think about Christen. I know I should’ve let her go like years ago but I can’t.”

“I know that as well.” Alex says sitting on your bed. “One day you will be able to let her go, that day just isn’t today.”

“I’m going out for a walk.” You tell Alex as you get up from the floor.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Alex asks.

“I think I want to go by myself if you don’t mind.” You say as you put on clean clothes on.

“Well if you change your mind just let me know okay?”

“Thank you.”

You walked out the house, putting your cap on as you began to walk, you didn’t know where you were walking. But it seemed as if your legs had a mind of its own and you walked to the place you had met Christen.

You sat beside the building, head rested against the wall as you looked at the grass. So many memories flooding your head. Looking at the place you first met Christen. How everything changed that day.

You closed your eyes as you remembered all the good moments you had with Christen.

“Hey.”

The voice making you open your eyes as you watched Christen approach you.

“Christen. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I come here often.” You say as you look at Christen. “It’s peaceful.”

“We met here you know.” Christen says and you sigh, nodding you looked down at the pavement.

“We did.”

“I talked to my neighbor.”

“Oh?”

“Kind of glad to see you here. I wanted to find you and talk to you.” Christen says as she sits next to you.

“Well you found me.” You say turning to face Christen.

“I want to apologize, to apologize to you for all I’ve put you through. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good friend and that I hurt you in so many ways. It was so wrong of me to blame Alex for our failed relationship. It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t all your fault Christen. But thank you for apologizing.” You say with a weak smile.

Christen smiles weakly, you both turning away from each other. The only sound heard was the birds and people playing on the field.

Christen turns to look at you and she feels her heart beat fast, you looked so beautiful. Christen bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold herself back from saying anything. But she failed.

“I never really cared about my relationships in school because I just knew they weren’t the one. None of them were the one I thought I’d want forever.” Christen says. “I just knew they weren’t the one. But when I was with you I think I always knew but didn’t believe it. But Y/N I-I-.”

“You what?”

“I can’t tell you.” Christen says with a sigh.

“Oh.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. I really do but I can’t.”

“I understand, don’t worry about it.” You say as you looked away.

“Could I maybe get your number? We don’t have to be friends again and I really don’t expect you to forgive me that quick. But I’d like to at least try and be friends?” Christen asks.

You nod and pull your phone out, exchanging numbers with each other. Sitting in front of where you first met.

“Do you maybe want to go to the carnival with me tomorrow? It’s the Fourth of July.” Christen says.

You felt so conflicted, you always wanted this but now you didn’t know anymore.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to but I wanted to ask, you know maybe go together like we used to.”

“Can Alex go?” You ask.

“That’s fine. I need to apologize to her as well.” Christen says and you nod.

Progress.

“Then we’ll meet you there.” You say.

“Great.” Christen says with a smile.

Again, you both stayed silent.

“Do you remember the notes you gave me in eighth grade?” You say breaking the silence.

“I- yeah I remember.” Christen says nervously.

You needed to know, you wanted to know what those notes said so badly.

“You never gave me part three and four.” You say and Christen sighs.

“I know.” Christen says.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

She knew why.

“Oh.” You say nodding. “Do you still have them?”

“No sorry.” Christen says and you nod.

“Well I have to go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Christen says as she stands up and helps you up.

The entire conversation replaying in your head the whole day until the next day when you met up with Christen.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Christen says with a smile. “Alex, hi.”

“Hi Christen.”

“I want to apologize to you for being rude to you. It wasn’t your fault for how things went between Y/N and I.” Christen says.

“Apology accepted.” Alex says as she extends her hand out. Christen shaking her hand. “I know you were going through it.”

“Still wasn’t acceptable.” Christen says.

“It’s all in the past now.” Alex says nodding, Christen nods.

“Shall we go some rides and grab food?” Christen asks.

“Yes please.” You say smiling.

Alex smiled at how happy you were. Christen smiled as well, placing her hand in the pocket of her jeans. Playing with the pieces of paper in her pocket.

For the entire afternoon you all spent it on rides and had small breaks to grab food. Once it was seven you had all decided to officially grab food to actually eat as dinner.

So as you all finished the food you had ordered, Christen reached into her pocket. She looked up at Alex, Alex nodded as she got up and said she’d go get something to drink. Christen had found time where you weren’t around to tell Alex what she needed to do. Leaving you and Christen alone at the table.

“I lied.” Christen says as she turns to face you.

“Lied? Lied about what?”

“I lied when I said I didn’t have part three and four of the notes I wrote for you. I have them.” Christen says as she reached into her pocket, playing with the two pieces of paper.

“Oh.”

Christen pulled the two pieces of paper from her pocket.

“Here. You deserve to know what they said and to read them. I’m sorry I never gave them to you.” Christen says as she hands you the two pieces of paper.

“Really?” You ask as you grab the pieces of paper.

“Really.” Christen says making you smile.

“Can I read them now?” You ask.

“Of course.”

So you did, you opened the first one and read it. You looked at Christen and she looked nervous. You went onto the fourth note and before you could flip it over Christen stopped you.

“Before you read it, please don’t freak out. The back of this paper will make so much sense as to why I never gave you these last two notes.” Christen says as she looked at you.

You were scared and also intrigued to find out what the back of the note said. What would it reveal. You looked at Christen and placed your hand on her hand before flipping it over.

Turtle, if you’re reading this it must mean I gave it to you. (Obviously.) but I just wanted to tell you something important. Giving you this last note means I’m not afraid to tell you what I’ve been needing to tell you for a while now. Y/N. I like you. I’ve liked you from the moment we met. And I hope nothing changes between us.

- Love, Christen your best friend.

You froze. Your heart stopped beating but it also started to beat fast which didn’t make much sense. You looked up from the note and saw Christen looking at you.

“I- what?” You ask.

“Y/N I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, since the moment I heard your laugh during history. I love you and I should’ve told you sooner but I didn’t. Because I can’t love anyone else, I love you and only you. That’s why I was so jealous of everyone that went out with you, or the fact that Alex spent so much time with you. I wished that was me, that I would get to spend that much time with you. To be with you.” Christen says and you stay silent. “Y/N?”

“Sorry I’m just in shock.” You say as you set the notes down.

“I love you.”

“I’ve loved you since the moment we met Christen and you’re telling me you also loved me from the moment we met? I need a second.”

Christen reaches for your hand as she gave it a squeeze.

“It’s me and you.” Christen says and you close your eyes. “You’re my home.”

The memories, everything, it all came flooding back into your head.

“It’s me and you forever.” Christen whispered as you both laid on the grass.

“Promise?” You ask.

“I promise.”

“I love you. I always have and I haven’t stopped.” You say with your eyes closed.

Christen got closer to you as she placed her hand on your cheek.

“I’m sorry I put you through hell, I know I messed up in every way.”

“How could I not forgive you.” You say as you open your eyes and look at Christen.

“Please, give me one chance that’s all I ask.” Christen pleaded.

“You actually love me?” You ask.

“I do. I really do.” Christen says. “I always have.”

You looked at Christen, the look in your eyes was soft and delicate. The look in Christen’s eyes was pure love.

As you both looked at each other, the sound of people talking and screaming was the only thing heard. You finally moved a bit as you placed your hand on her shoulder.

Christen looked down at your lips then back up to your eyes and it was as if she read your mind. She moved her hand to the back of your neck as she leaned in and kissed you.

It was eight pm. A couple fireworks began, the moment she kissed you it had also felt like fireworks.

“I love you.” Christen whispered against your lips.

“I love you.”

“One date. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Thought this was date one.” You say making Christen smile. She leans in to peck your lips, moving her hand down to squeeze your hand.

Alex had finally gotten back as she took her seat in front of you both.

“Everything okay?” Alex asks. You and Christen turning to face her with a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes.” You say nodding, leaning into Christen.

“Good. So picture?” Alex asks as she takes her phone out.

Both you and Christen laugh as it reminded you of the picture you had taken years ago. You never saw it though.

“Smile.” Alex says.

Christen rests her head on your shoulder and although she didn’t tell you why she did that, only Christen needed to know.

“Fourth of July is finally ours again.” Christen whispers making you smile.

“Ours.” You whisper back as you kiss her cheek.

“So what are we waiting for? Shall we go on more rides?” Alex asks.

“Yes let’s go. Alex remind me to get Y/N some cotton candy.” Christen says as she helps you up.

“Cotton candy? I thought you didn’t like cotton candy?” Alex says confusedly.

“I don’t.” You say looking at Christen.

“She does. Trust me.” Christen says as you all begin to walk to a ride.

“Christen for the last time I don’t.” You say with a groan.

“Yes you do.” Christen says as she grabs your hand. “You LOVE it just like you love me.”

“I love you but I don’t love cotton candy. It’s okay I suppose.”

“She loves it.” Christen says as she turns to look at Alex.

“So it’s going to be us three now?” Alex asks.

“Yeah.” You and Christen both say.

Fourth of July was once again a day that you knew you’d spend with Christen at the carnival. Eating curly fries and given cotton candy.

Every year it would be the same. Alex still tagged along. You were happy.

You not only found out what the note had said, but you also knew Christen loved you.

It was a beautiful reality. You were with the one you loved, your best friend and your girlfriend were finally friends who didn’t hate each other. But now went shopping together and made plans together.

Christen formally asked you to be her girlfriend that same night as she walked you home. Happily, you said yes.

Years later she asked you to marry her, you also said yes. You were in peace and with the love of your life. Christen wasn’t afraid anymore, she knew you loved her just as much. You were both happily in love.

You were so afraid of facing reality before, but now.. now you were with the one person you had loved your whole life. And being with that person made it so much easier and fun when you faced reality.

[madnessformunson]

You Belong With Me Part 2

I wrote this instead of doing my physics homework, I hope you enjoy, especially @grimmbunniee who gave me the inspiration for a part 2

You can read Part 1 here

You avoid Eddie like the fucking plague all weekend. You couldn’t face him, not after he told you he was in love with you yet slept with Chrissy Cunningham. Monday rolls around and you regret letting Eddie take you and your sister to school everyday. As you finish packing up your lunches, you call out for Max.

“Max hurry up or we will be late”

“What do you mean late? We have 10 more minutes until we have to leave with munson.” She replies Snatching her lunch off the counter.

“We are riding the bus today,” you said under your breath. You love your sister, but she can be really harsh and you don't need her judgemental eyes right now.

“Seriously y/n? You and Munson get into a fight and I’m the one who has to suffer”

“Come on Max let’s just go” you say, pulling her out the front door to walk to the bus stop.

Just as Eddie was exiting his trailer to get in his van he noticed you and Max climbing up the steps of the bus. He remembered confessing his love to you at the party even though he was extremely drunk.

The whole day you avoided Eddie, dodging him was simple because you knew his whole schedule. You knew the hallways he walked down and the classes he had, so you just carefully went the opposite direction.

That’s until lunch rolled around. You were going to just eat your bagged lunch in the outside hallway but you knew if you did that max would most likely come looking for you, further bringing you avoidance of Eddie to the rest of the parties attention. You walk in slowly, mentally deciding that you will sit next to Max and act like nothing has happened. Once you start approaching the table you look up to see Chrissy running over to sit in Eddie's lap. He wore a huge grin and they both looked genuinely happy.. at least at this moment. You sit down not making any acknowledgement towards Eddie’s presence as you listen to Dustin talk about his science fair project. As lunch ended, Max turned to you and said, “don’t get on the bus to go home I’m not riding in the death trap again” you respond with an eye roll and “you really want to walk home? That would take us at least 45 minutes”

“No” she responded, “I called Steve he said he would be happy to give us a ride” at that comment Eddie began to choke on his pretzels. He coughed loudly, grabbing towards his water bottle for a drink.

“Oh my god are you ok?” You looked at him with an honest look of concern.

He nodded back trying to catch his breath. You went to ask him again just to be sure but the lunch bell rang snapping you out of your concern.

When the end of the school day came you met Max at your usual spot in front of the school. You were upset with her, you didn’t mind Steve but you also weren’t the biggest fan of him. Back in his ‘King Steve’ days he definitely wasn’t the nicest to you.

“Why the hell would you think it is ok to call Steve?” You said angrily as you approached Max.

She rolled her eyes, something she did all the time and definitely something she picked up from you.

“I don’t see what the big deal is? You somehow managed to make us lose our ride so I got us a new one. I’m not riding that damn bus”

“You know you aren’t too good for that bus. That’s your problem max you think you are so much better than everyone around you” you didn’t mean to pick a fight with your sister. You’ve always been the one to take care of her but right now you felt like she crossed the line.

“Well excuse me, it’s not my fault you are in fucking love with Eddie but too much of an idiot to admit it to him!”

Just as you were getting ready to yell back at her Steve pulled up in his car and honked as he rolled the window down. “Hey ladies!” He calls out to you and max “I heard you were in need of a ride”

You sigh as you adjust your backpack and give Max a very annoyed look. You both start heading over to Steve, you want to get in the back but Max jumps in as you open the door so you decide to sit up front. Eddie spots you as he is walking next to Chrissy getting an ear full about how he doesn’t support her cheerleading as much as he should.

“Well how are the two pretty red heads of Hawkins High doing?” Steve said with a smile. You just sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed.

“Well I would be doing great since I got an A on my biology test but my sister insists on being the biggest bitch at Hawkins High” Max comments.

“You know what? This was dumb. I’ll just try to catch the bus since I’m not too good to ride it” you say as you start to get out.

“Come on y/n, let me just give you a ride this time. The bus has already left and you’ll be stuck walking for sure.”

You sigh and shut the door.

The ride home was quiet. As soon as he pulled up in front of your trailer, Max bolted out.

“Thanks for the ride, we appreciate it” you say quietly as you pull your backpack up to get out.

“Anytime” Steve says.

Before you exit the car, Steve gently grabs your arm.

“I need to apologize to you Red, I didn’t mean all those things I said in high school. I was just dumb and trying to fit in. I think you are really cool and I would love to get to know you better”

You smile, “I can only accept your apology if you give Dio a chance. And I mean a real chance”

“Anything for you” Steve said laughing as you pulled the tape out of your backpack and handed it to him.

“You know, this means we are going to have to see each other again soon so I can give this tape back. Preferably longer than the 5 minute drive from the school to your house?” He said as he fidgeted with the tape.

“How about Friday night?” You said with a smile.

“It’s a date”

As the week passed by you focused less and less on Eddie and Chrissy and more on Steve. He was actually a really nice guy. He was really caring and listened to you. He continued to give you and your sister a ride to and from school every day as you promised that you were saving up every penny you had to hopefully get your own car soon.

As you walked up to the hellfire table to sit down Dustin said “well well well, who do we have here?” You furrowed your eyebrows unsure of what he was talking about.

“It just so happens Steve said he couldn’t give us a ride home after Hellfire tonight because he would be on a date…” Dustin started, and Mike finished “..with you!” a huge grin covering his face.

“I never thought I would see the day that you and Harrington actually got along” Dustin said with a laugh as you blushed.

Eddie approached the table, Chrissy hanging on to his arm, “what are we talking about over here? Hopefully about the new character sheets you all should have done for tonight”

“Y/n won’t be able to make it, she has a date” Dustin said wiggling his brows.

Eddie coughed, “a date? With who”

You didn’t say anything, piling a cracker into your mouth as quickly as possible.

“Steve! Steve actually asked her out! I never thought I would witness such an event” Dustin laughed clearly not reading the room.

Eddie laughed, “seriously Harrington? You’ve got to be kidding me”

“What? He’s too good for me too? What does it matter to you anyway” you said as you scowled at him.

“I’m just saying he is not your type at all, Mayfield”

“That’s rich coming from you” you rolled your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?

“Oh I don’t know, just that last week you were telling me how in love you were with me and how Chrissy wasn’t your type at all yet here you are with her hanging all over you like a prize or something” you didn’t mean for that to come out in front of the whole table.

Eddie sat there scrabbling to find words. Chrissy sat there for a moment taking in the new information you just released before getting up, grabbing the carton of milk off of Gareth’s tray and pouring it on Eddie’s head. Once it was empty she tossed the carton in your direction and ran off.

[agaypanic]

Can you do Reese with a girl who’s just like him but not dumb lmao headcanons like she’s a bully too and is crazy

Reese With a Similar GF Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Reese didn’t believe in love at first sight until he saw you

It wasn’t often he saw a girl fight someone for their lunch money

“Don’t be late next time.” You sneered, pocketing a five as the kid in front of you scrambled up to their feet. “A girl’s gotta eat. Now scram.” They immediately did as they were told. You smirked to yourself, turning around to go find somewhere to sit. 

Instead, you found a boy from one of your classes staring at you with a dopey look.

“Can I help you?” As if you had spoken the magic words to break his trance, his expression turned shocked. He whipped around as if something else suddenly caught his attention. You shook your head, walking off. “What a weirdo.”

You started seeing him around more often

He’d always try to start a conversation with you but would back out at the last second

It started getting on your nerves, so you decided to do something about it

“Do you have a problem or something, Reese?” You remembered to pay attention to roll call so you’d have a name to match the face. The face that was staring at you dumbfounded right now.

“Huh?” 

“All your staring and not talking and stuff. What’s that about?” He started looking nervous, eyes darting around to look for an escape. But you wouldn’t let him get to it even if he found one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh my God, don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not.”

Half the time, he’s really not playing dumb

After fumbling his way through a conversation, he somehow managed to ask you out

More surprising to both of you, you said yes

It took a while for things to start getting good

“Reese, no offense, but this is kind of boring.” You murmured as you two sat in a dark theater, watching previews.

“Well, the movie hasn’t started yet.” He shrugged, trying to cover his nerves.

“You’ve already eaten, like, all the popcorn.”

“I can go get more.” He started to stand up, but you stopped him.

“Chill out, man.” You laughed a little. You were wondering if he was nervous because he was on a date or because he thought you’d beat him up any second. “You know, I have an idea.”

“Yeah, what?” 

“I have a bat in the back of my car, and there’s a bunch of mailboxes around town.”

Safe to say, that made you two click

You’ve been inseparable ever since

Much to the school’s dismay

But surprisingly, you’ve had a positive impact on him

You have more brain cells than him, so you can explain homework to him in a way he’ll understand

“How the hell do you add a percent?” Reese asked, staring at the packet in his hands. You looked over his shoulder at the problem.

“Okay, Baby, let’s say some guy owes you ten bucks. You know this guy’s not good at paying on time, so you add on twenty percent to what he owes you. How much does he owe you now?”

He stared off in thought. You went to give him another hint, but he held a finger up.

“Wait a minute. I think Malcolm taught me this.” After a bit of murmuring and counting on his fingers, he looked at you, a bit unsure of himself. “Twelve bucks?” 

“Yes!” You said, half delighted and half shocked that he got it right. He wrote it down before looking at you again.

“You know, I think I deserve a reward for doing so good.” You rolled your eyes at the insinuation but still leaned over to give him a kiss.

Sometimes you guys have the same bully victims

Some call it getting double-teamed by two scary kids

You call it a date

[petitelepus]

Writing A Love Story, Part 3

MODERN!KYOGAI X FEM!READER

Summary: You give Kyogai a link to your stories, but he ends up accidentally finding out that not only are you a writer but also that you write erotic stories too? How can he face you after learning your secret?

Warnings: Naughty things mentioned

A/N: Modern!AU, Female Reader, Teacher Reader, Teacher Kyogai, Tengen Uzui

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

The next day came and Kyogai came to work like every single morning, but he was a little happier than usual that morning. He was honored that you wanted to use him as your source of inspiration and frankly, he was excited to see what you would come up with.

He went to his desk and started to get prepared for the new day and one by one his colleagues turned up to work, greeting him as they entered the office... But there was no sign of you?

Kyogai started to worry if you were okay, but just as he was about to ask his fellow teachers if they knew about your absence, you stepped into the room.

"Morning everyone!" You greeted everyone as you made your way to your seat and you immediately smiled to your friend, "Morning Kyogai!"

"Good morning young Lady." The man nodded and you grinned, "Are you ready to read what I wrote?"

"Wait, did you already write something?" He was stunned and you nodded, "Yep!"

"You... You were awfully fast?"

"I had a good source of inspiration," You chuckled as you opened your computer and then looked at him again, "Is it okay if I send a link to my website? If you want, you can read my other stories there also?"

"You already posted it? And you have your own website?" He was shocked to learn that you were so nifty. You nodded, smiling proudly, "Yep!"

"That is... Amazing."

"He he, thank you!" You thanked him for the praise, "I know it's not on paper like yours was, but I hope you don't mind if I send you a link instead?"

"Please do." Kyogai nodded and you grinned as you typed on your computer, "Don't give it to students though. I don't want them to find out I'm a writer in my free time."

"I promise, I won't." The man promised. There was a bing as your link popped into his computer's screen and the man smiled, "I got the link."

"Great! Read it when you have time!" You were smiling and Kyogai wanted to open the link immediately and start reading, but the school bell rang, signaling that the first classes were about to start and he was still in the teacher's office instead of his own classroom.

Kyogai made sure to close his laptop before leaving to teach but he swore that he would read your story as soon as he could... Only he didn't have any chances to even open the link during that day.

It was like he was much more needed suddenly, student after another coming to him, asking for help with their homework or such, despite him being nothing but a simple music teacher. He didn't have a chance to eat that day either.

By the time he made it back to the office, the day was already over and teachers were one by one heading home. You included. Kyogai sighed as he walked to his desk and you were just putting your jacket on when you noticed him.

"Oh, Kyogai! How did you like my story?" You asked and he looked down in embarrassment, "I apologize, I was too busy today to even eat lunch today..."

"Aah, it's okay!" You nodded, understanding why he hadn't read your writing yet, "Don't worry about it! Please take your time and read it when you have time."

You were so kind and understanding, Kyogai wondered briefly if you were even real because of how sweet you were all the time.

"I gotta leave now but we'll see each other tomorrow?" You asked and he nodded, "Yes, have a good day."

"You too!" You smiled as you bid him farewell and left the office. Kyogai smiled a little as he packed his things and quickly followed your and other teachers' example and left the school grounds.

When he was back home and done eating and bathing, he decided to open his computer and finally read that story of yours that had him so excited.

It was a story of an unsuccessful writer overcoming his insecurities thanks to his long-lost childhood friend who confessed her feelings for him and he finally managed to overcome his fear of white paper thanks to her love and support.

It was a sweet story and brought a smile to Kyogai's lips. He could see a trace of himself there in your story and while he was at it, he thought that he could read some of your other works.

He checked your other stories and he could see a pattern in your stories. They were either slice-of-life or romantic genres, two of maybe the most boring labeled genres there were, but Kyogai couldn't help but admire your writing style. It was simple but sentences were easy and fluent to read and you had this talent of getting your readers hooked on every word in your stories.

While he was reading, he noticed that there was a counter of the readers at the corner of every story you had written. While not huge, he was glad to see that you had even some readers.

The man decided to return to your most recent story and read it one more time... But then he noticed that there was even a commenting and chat section on your website. Curiosity got the best of him and he jumped into the conversation and saw that some people were already talking about your newest story.

Foxy - 'Nice story'

Kukka - 'WildRose did it again. Another good story.'

WildRose? Why did it sound so familiar? Kyogai looked and saw that it was your website's name. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it must have been your Pen Name also.

Tutti - 'Their writing style is close to this one guy BloodThorn'

BloodThorn? Now Kyogai was both confused and intrigued so he kept reading how people talked about you and your stories compared to this BloodThorn. Finally, someone cleared the air.

Parsa - 'That's because WildRose and BloodThorn are the same people, names and styles are clear proof, and they even say it on their other site'

You had two Pen Names and sites? You hadn't mentioned anything about it to Kyogai so he was both confused and curious. That curiosity of his got the best of him and he quickly joined the chat with the name DrumDemon.

DrumDemon - 'Who is this BloodThorn and where can I find their stories?'

BunBun - 'You don't know, LOL?'

Parsa - 'Be nice, they must be new'

BunBun - 'LOL, you need their permission to read their naughty stuff'

Naughty stuff? What did they mean by that? He had to know and get to read them.

DrumDemon - 'How do I get that?'

Parsa - 'You gotta join their fan club and make a monthly donation to them'

DrumDemon - 'Donation?

BunBun - 'Money'

Parsa - 'That way you also become a member of their little gremlin army and get access to all their naughty stories'

Parsa - 'Though, you also need to be over 18 to support them'

Kyogai thought for a moment about what he should do and then he typed...

DrumDemon - 'That won't be a problem.'

DrumDemon - 'Can I get a link to their site?'

BunBun - 'Here you go bro'

BunBun - 'Have fun, LOL'

This user BunBun sent Kyogai a link to your other side and he immediately clicked it, eager to see what you had there. He had to make a user and choose how much he wanted to donate to you per month.

As a teacher his salary wasn't anything special so he chose a realistic amount that was not too cheap for you or too expensive for him. Once this was done, he gained access to BloodThorn's aka your naughty stories.

Kyogai clicked one of your stories and his red eyes widened as he read and realized that you didn't write only about slice-of-life and romance... But you wrote about erotic stories also!

The man blushed as he read your stories, ranging from one kink to another and there were so many different fetishes mentioned that Kyogai hadn't even heard of some.

Was this BloodThorn really you? Were you really this... Naughty? You, a kind, polite, and gentle teacher who was always so happy and smiling no matter what?

Kyogai learned that there was a darker and more perverted side in you that you didn't show during the daylight. The difference was like light and darkness, day and night.

As he read your stories, his imagination started to run wild, and he started to imagine you in the female lead's place... And shamefully, himself in the male lead's role.

The man gasped as he felt a tingle of arousal between his legs and he quickly slammed his laptop shut and pushed it away from him.

No, he shouldn't feel that way about you... You were a writer, there was no guarantee that you actually practiced all the things you wrote about!

But if you did...?

Kyogai groaned as he could feel it in his bones how the image of your kind smile turned into a wicked grin like the one Mistress had in one of your stories. Instead of holding his hands gently, would you tie them to a headboard? Wait, why was he only imagining you as a Dom?

This wasn't working, Kyogai would have to talk about this with you the next day... But first, he would have to take a cold shower.

The next day came and Kyogai slept so poorly with images of you underneath him and on top of him haunting his dreams. It got to the point that he had to take another cold shower that very same morning before heading to work at the Academy.

As he made it to the teacher's office, he was greeted by his colleagues who he quietly greeted back, but his gaze immediately went to your seats where you already were typing on your computer.

"Good morning Kyogai!" You greeted the music teacher like you did every single day as he took his seat across from you.

"Morning, young Lady." He greeted you back and you smiled excitedly, "So? What did you think of my story?"

Which one exactly? The one with the female lead tied with Shibari or the one with the male lead spanking his partner as they were lying on his lap? Kyogai shook his head, trying to shake off those stories and he focused on the sweet romantic story you originally had sent to him.

"It was very cute and heartwarming." He said instead, "I enjoyed it very much and I'm happy if I was able to help you with it in any way possible."

"Thank you, it means a lot to me that you liked my story!" You said and you did sound so honest and cute... But Kyogai couldn't live quietly with your erotic stories haunting his mind.

"I actually... I have a question about your stories?" He started carefully and you nodded eagerly, "Ask away!"

"I-!" He tried to speak but the bell just happened to ring that moment. It was time for school.

"Aww!" You pouted as you got up from your seat, but before you left you gave the music teacher one of those brilliant smiles of yours, "Let's talk a little later, okay?"

"Alright..." He nodded as he followed behind you and the two of you left the office to head to your own classrooms to teach.

As the day went on, Kyogai had time to think about your stories and he realized that something didn't click. Were you really that careless as to forget that there was a chat where your erotic website could be mentioned? You weren't that careless in school or when writing...

Kyogai wondered... If you actually were aware that he could stumble upon your erotic site? Were you hinting something to him or was he just imagining things? He had to ask.

The two of you didn't manage to catch each other on lunch so the next time the two of you actually managed to speak was at the end of the school day. Kyogai watched from the windows how students left the school grounds to spend the weekend relaxing and preparing for the next week.

"Good work today!"

Kyogai turned and saw you enter the room and head to your seat. He swallowed nervously and made his way to his desk across from you so he could talk to you.

"Young Lady, I..." He started but he got nervous. Was he really going to do this? Depending on how you would react, this could end up really badly for your friendship...

"Yes, Kyogai? What's in your mind?" You smiled at him and he swallowed one more time as he collected his courage.

"Did you give me that link... Knowing that I might find your erotic website...?"

You blinked as you stared at the man and he could almost see your brains working to process what he just asked... And then your face flushed bright red when you realized what he meant.

"I- I-!" For once, you were speechless and you blushed as you averted your gaze from him, "I... Ah, I'm sorry Kyogai, p- please forget it...!"

"B- but I don't want to-!" He wanted to say how he didn't want to let it go, but just as he was about to speak out; Tengen shouted at the two of you from his seat across the room, "Hey, we teachers are going out partying today, so we wanted to ask if you wanna tag along?"

"Ooh, that would be my honor!" You said as you smiled, but to Kyogai your smile looked a little forced. He tried to speak but you got up and picked up your bag, "I haven't actually been to a party here in Japan before!"

"You're in for a treat, we know the best place in the whole city!" Tengen laughed and then he looked at the red-eyed man, "You're coming also, right Kyogai?"

You glanced at Kyogai and he couldn't tell through your smile what you were feeling...

"Yes." The man nodded as he picked his own bag and joined you and his colleagues, "I'm coming."

[necros-writing-stuff]

Such Sweet Ignorance: Collabo'ween Day 16

GN!Reader/Blaine Wiley (Male Sugar Daddy Energy Vampire OC).

Warnings: There's a sense of dread through this one; Financial control; Heavy anxiety for reader; Emotional manipulation; Fear of dying; Reader is suffering from something similar to chronic fatigue.

Word Count: 2739.

Notes: This one is far more horror than smut with a creepy element to it. There's like three lines of smut lol. It's in first person and made to be like a journal entry.

With the power of hindsight, it was blatantly obvious how many red flags this man has. But I was broke and desperate, so I went along with what he wanted anyway. 

Hello to anyone who might be reading this, by the way. I'd appreciate it if you're some scholar from a couple hundred years into the future, peeking into the past via the journal of some random person. If you're someone closer to me then this will be quite awkward and I'm gonna have to ask you to stop here. I don't think I can look people in the eye after admitting the things I'll admit here. Though after everything I've learned, someone I know now could be reading this hundreds of years in the future.  

But I have to get it all off of my chest. I have to do it this way because if I pay for a therapist then he'll find out and make me stop seeing them even if the meetings are only over video calls. This is the first time I’ve been away from him for more than a couple of hours in many months. 

It started last year, sometime around mid July. I was at the local library, using their free wifi when he'd sat down across from me. He'd only smiled at me then before reading his own book while I typed something up on my laptop. 

We had a few more meetings like that, and I'd grown used to him being there. I'd seek him out when I'd enter the building and feel giddy when we'd make eye-contact. He was so handsome, dressed modestly but you could tell he had money just based on the make and materials of his clothes. Auburn hair. Blue eyes. Well built but not so cut that you'd think him vain. And he was looking at me.

He broke the silence first, asking me what I was writing. I wanted to lie, badly, because it was a romance novel that I was thinking of self-publishing just to make some cash on the side. Plenty of people will buy terrible romance novels and defend them with their lives if they have tropes they love and hot enough male protagonists. 

For a reason I still can't explain, I told him the truth. A pattern that would continue, as you'll see. 

I was waiting for his nose to scrunch up in disgust, my shoulders tensed so bad that I could feel the knots forming in the muscles already. Instead he smiled and asked if he could read some. 

Yet again, I let him move around the table and sit beside me. I let him read what I wrote. And holy fuck was it a surprise when he started giving input on how to make it better than it was. 

"My mother was a publisher, I used to do my homework at the kitchen table when she'd review all the things she'd get." Then there it was, the nose scrunch. "I… I kinda ended up loving some of those novels because of it." 

Handsome, well-off, a lover of romance novels, a seemingly good relationship with his mother. People say hook-line-and-sinker a lot. This was an anchor tied to my ankle as he kicked me off the boat into Mariana's Trench. The books he'd been reading across from me were all horror, but the ones he'd kept in his bag to read at home? Soft, smutty romance. 

I never asked why he always ended up at the library at the exact same time as myself. Knowing him as I do, I'm sure he'd have come up with an excuse that I couldn't refute, one I'd accept without blinking an eye. But I'm still disappointed that I never asked once. 

Blaine Wiley is his name. An art appraiser - older than me but so kind, supportive and patient that it didn't matter in the slightest. 

We became fast friends, especially with how open I felt I could be with him and how open I thought he was being with me. Everything I told him, he came back with something personal of his own. Never in that "I'm one-upping you," way, but in a "I see you, I know what it feels like too," way. 

I had family problems? So did he! His sister was always at his throat. It's why he valued my friendship so much, he'd said. The notion of found family was one he identified with heavily after his mother had passed.

Naturally, we ended up dating. That restaurant was so expensive. I wanted to hide behind Blaine the entire time we were there. Expensive suits and bespoke dresses were everywhere while I was in an outfit I'd thrown together from a charity shop. Yeah, the outfit was expensive at one point. But not anymore. I was a drowned rat amongst groomed cats.

Somehow Blaine had made me forget about all of those worries. We'd hardly been able to stop talking long enough to eat (and the food was delicious). Even surrounded by absolute opulence, he remained all that my attention could focus on. 

I couldn't not follow him home after such a lovely date. I couldn't not let him lay me down on his bed, strip my clothes from me and go down on me like that meal we'd shared was but an appetiser. He was so thorough and selfless. 

My nerves returned once we'd finished - waiting and waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be kicked out of his bed now he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Instead, I was trapped in one of my very own novels. Blaine asked me to stay the night, his arms holding me close as we slept. He made me breakfast. He drove me home and kissed me goodbye with a promise to see me again. 

More dates followed, as well as many nighttime trists (and some in his car in dark car parks). He paid for everything. Insisted on it. He didn't have to worry about his bank account but I did, so why should I pay? In fact, why don't I let him give me money just because? 

Another moment where I should have ran. The writing was right there on the wall and I chose to walk past it like it was nothing but a graffitied cock. I feel so stupid - so full of shame - and I should be shouldn't I? I should feel disappointed in myself. I've been a fucking idiot and now it's far too late. 

Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself and far too emotional. I’ll just keep going.

As you can guess, I took the money. I tried to turn it down, but he was so hell-bent on "taking care of me," that I folded quickly. No one has ever taken care of me. I barely take care of me. It was just so nice to not have to worry about having hot water or food in the kitchen. 

Three months is how long it took him to convince me to move in. The gifts and money got more and more expensive until he proposed it. His logic seemed sound; I was basically there every night, he was paying my rent and for my lifestyle anyway. I could leave any time I'd like if things didn't work out. He just wanted me to be safe and comfortable while I wrote. Once my book was out he was sure I'd have a good stream of revenue - hell, he could set me up with a publisher if I really wanted. 

From a one bedroom flat with a teeny tiny kitchen and no bath, just a standing shower, to his two-floored suite at the top of an apartment complex. His bath is a fucking hot-tub. It bubbles. You can see the entire city from his windows. He has his own personal bar in the kitchen and 4 ovens. 

My lifestyle was completely flipped. Rich clothes, days spent writing with an incredible view, relaxing baths while sipping drinks Blaine mixed for me at the bar, cooking with fresh ingredients from high-end boutiques. 

Blaine mostly worked from home, but when he’d leave he’d return from work and see what I'd done before sharing his own day. Often he'd come home with a necklace, a ring, new shoes or clothes for me. Always, I was on his mind. Always, I was his to pamper and love.

Somehow, even with how unbelievably relaxing my life had become, I'd end each day more exhausted than the last. I'd wake up with headaches that doctors couldn't explain. I'd just keep chugging vitamins and hope that it would stop eventually. 

Things started cracking when I wanted to go to a friend's party. Not even a close friend, just a fellow writer who'd stayed friendly with me over the years. A male writer. Blaine had tried to hide his true reason for keeping me home behind having a date planned. Deep down I knew it was jealousy. Deep down, I knew I should have ended things there or at least insisted that he consider why he felt so insecure about it.

I stayed home. I said my apologies to my friend and sent a gift through the mail. Blaine took me to an art opening the night of the party and introduced me to all of his friends instead.

It was hell. Anxiety had been a companion for most of my life, holding my hand anytime my thoughts would run away or even when I would simply step outside. It came back tenfold at the art exhibition. I felt like a piece of meat (though not due to Blaine's actions, surprisingly). His friends would peer over me with this knowing look before smiling or sipping their drinks. It only made me cling further to him. The one source of familiarity and comfort.

A breakdown followed when we got home. I was so tired and scared - I couldn't explain either - but Blaine simply held me and told me that the reasons why didn't matter right now. We'd work it out together, we'd get better together, but right then I should just let it all out. I could talk when I wanted to, but not feel forced to do so before I was ready. 

Perfect. Everything he did and said was perfect, and I fell asleep wrapped up in his arms again that night. 

I'd describe myself as agoraphobic these days. That previous anxiety I'd harboured had only grown in Blaine's custody. It was purposeful how he kept me inside without him, how he only took me out when it was a big thing with people whose lifestyles I couldn't connect to. Who I felt ashamed to open up around just in case they judged me. Events that made me have further breakdowns when we’d get home or even when I’d sit down in his car at the end of the night.

If his friends detested me, would Blaine leave? My only source of comfort? I couldn't let that happen. 

I don't leave the house anymore. I tried a few times after all of those parties to smile my way through meetings Blaine took me to, but it just drained me further until I collapsed. Literally collapsed. More tests were done on me at the hospital, but still they couldn't find anything wrong. 

Blaine left for a week on a trip to Oslo. Since he's left I've been getting my energy back bit by bit every day. I've needed it after what I found him doing a few nights before he left. 

Usually, I sleep through the night like a rock. The fire alarm going off wouldn't wake my eyes open. Something did wake me up last week. I don't know what or why, but when my eyes fluttered open I thought I was trapped in a nightmare. 

Blaine's hand was pressed against my chest, right over my heart. And it was glowing. I think there were runes shining on the back of his hand, the red light bathing our bedroom in what looked like a sea of blood. Seconds ticked by and I felt my lids lowering again as he peppered kisses on my neck. I was just so, so tired. Blaine made me so, so tired. Yet, I could barely breathe.

And alright, anyone reading might be thinking that it really was a dream. I did, at first, like I said. So I left my phone recording when I went to sleep the next night, the screen laying down so Blaine wouldn't know. He might check it when I sleep (he knows the password, he could do it anytime - he knows all of my passwords for everything). So I thought up a lie to explain it away. The screen was malfunctioning and clicking on things without any input. Maybe he could get me a new one or get it repaired. Spending money on me always makes him happy. 

A phone only has so much storage, it'll only record for so long even when the settings are put on low. It recorded long enough for me to see that red light bathing the room again when I checked. Right at the end, the last few minutes. Whispers were also recorded. Blaine's whispers, soothing me, thanking me for being such a font of creativity and life. 

Have you ever heard of energy vampires? They're much less known in the western world than the classic blood-sucking vampires. But there's legends of beings that take your life from you to feed their own all around the world. I think Blaine is that. I think he trapped me to feed from me and I don't know how to get away. 

Plenty of times the thought to look through his office has crossed my mind. Plenty of times I've wondered why I've never met his sister or seen photos of his mother, why I don't know how old he actually is even though I know his birthday. And in retrospect, I realise that many of his friends I met at the art exhibition had nervous looking partners of their own. They had their own little me's. 

I never questioned him. I never thought I had a reason to. Without him though, it's like that leash around my neck has been loosened and I can think more for myself again. Not fully. I still can't step outside without having a panic attack. I can barely call for a takeaway. Apps are my best friend right now. Who knows how many creatures like Blaine are out there, waiting to prey on the innocent?

At least I had the initiative to look through his desk finally. It's such a classic thing, a false bottom full of letters. It feels fake even though I found it. Even though I read each letter and carefully put them back. Even though they confirmed everything I thought. 

They were all exchanges with people like him. Creatures who hunt for people full of drive to do something - like my writing, someone's dancing, singing, painting. Hell, one had a taste for mechanics who worked on custom cars. And how they'd drain them dry of everything. Many of their victims died. Some of them went through victims like a smoker with cigarettes. 

Blaine was one of them. He'd only keep them for a month or two before they'd pass away in hospitals from mysterious diseases that couldn't be identified. Moreover, he's been doing it for over two hundred years. Blaine wasn’t even his original name, he’d gone by dozens of names over the years. The last letter was from 1942. I guess he switched to using telephones, then the internet when it got popular. Who knows how many other victims have been held in his claws before he found me.

I don't know why I'm different. I don't know why he's let me live so long. I just know that I have to get away before he can truly take everything. 

And I'm trying. Believe me, I'm trying so hard. He'll be back tomorrow. I just need to get up and leave, to take all of my clothes and jewellery and pawn them off so I can get away. I don’t even care about finishing my book at this point - even though it’s so close to done.

I'm going to do it. I promise I’ll get away. I'll write again when I'm safe.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 16

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

��� 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 with a headache. Judging by the look on Severus' face, he had a headache too.

"That was horrible." I muttered, gingerly touching my forehead and noticed my fingers were freezing cold.

"But a great story." Severus muttered, staggering out of bed, "I feel like I have a hangover."

"You've been drunk before?" I asked, momentarily distracted from the pounding headache.

"A few times many years ago." Severus muttered, pulling out a bottle of something and downing half of it.

"Can I have any of that?" I asked, hoping the answer was yes.

"Small dose." Severus said, pouring the liquid into a teacup and handing it over to me.

"You have a tea set?" I asked, taking the cup in amusement before downing the drink. Slowly, the headache started to dissipate, but obviously much slower than Severus' had gone.

"I don't have a 'tea set'. I just have a few cups, alright?" Severus asked grumpily.

I grinned, setting the cup down and getting dressed. "Alright, alright, no reason to get snippy with me!"

Severus groaned, wrenching the curtains closed, the bright light receded from the room.

"What was the story about last night?" I asked curiously. "I remember something about keys but everything else is just a blur."

"Seriously?" Severus asked, his voice laced with surprise.

"Yes. . ." I said slowly, pulling on my pants and then sitting down on the bed to pull on shoes and socks.

"Huh." Severus said. "Well, I remember it in great detail."

"Great!" I said brightly, grabbing my tie off of the chair and looked in the mirror, attempting to tie it properly and getting the knot mixed up. "You can tell me about it after school ends."

"Here." Severus said, turning me around and fixed my tie for me. He pulled the tie up tight, pulling me into a kiss.

"Thanks." I said, grabbing my school bag, dumping out yesterdays books and putting todays in. I hesitated, my Rune book in my hand and asked, "What day is it again?"

Severus looked at the clock like that was supposed to help and said, "Tuesday."

"Oh yes, that's right." I muttered and tossed the Rune book aside and picked up Defense Against the Dark Arts instead.

The week passed and I had almost no time to work on the end of the year drawing because of homework, Quidditch, and Severus, though not necessarily all in that same order.

Saturday afternoon, I went down to Firenze's room. I hadn't been there in a few weeks. I found that our conversations, while enlightening, always depressed me because I wished he could be in the forest instead of here.

"Ah, Elizabeth Kane." Came the familiar greeting, "It's been a while."

"I apologize." I said, sitting down on a rock.

"No need, no need, you've been quite busy, or so the stars have said." Firenze said in that soft, careful, yet commanding tone that he used during class.

"Oh?" I questioned, smiling. "What have the stars said?"

"Something about art, homework, love, Quidditch." Firenze said with a teasing smile. I knew he was just reciting the things of a student's life. "Now come, tell me what's happened in more detail than the stars."

He produced a tea set from somewhere with already hot water and teabags. I was quite surprised and it showed on my face because he chuckled, "Professor Dumbledore gave it to me. He said that I might enjoy the taste of fine British tea though not a usual taste for my kind."

"And how do you like it?" I asked, taking a cup and taking a sip. It was warm, calming and soothed my upset stomach.

"It's quite unique." Firenze said though that wasn't really a yes or no answer. "How are you?"

I thought about the question for a moment. Firenze was unlike anyone else here. A confidante, if you will. Nothing I said to him would reach anyone else's ears but his own.

"Strange." I finally said, "perhaps a bit like an outcast almost."

Firenze did not say anything and so I continued.

"I feel. . . older almost. More mature. All the problems that seem to go on around me, around my friends, they seem childish. I feel as though I'm in my twenties or thirties rather than my teens." I sighed, clutching my hands around the hot cup. "I don't feel like I belong, you know? Like I should be a Professor or something of that nature rather than a student. I wonder if this is how you or dad feels." I tacked on at the end before inhaling a long draft of tea.

Firenze looked at me thoughtfully with his sapphire eyes. "Do you think that perhaps you feel older because you are going to have a child?"

I choked on my tea. "W-what?" I sputtered after I managed to breathe again.

Firenze smiled, waving his hand and the trees rustled, revealing stars. "It is always night here, but the stars are the same as the ones outside and they share the same information."

I glared at him.

"You do not think, perhaps," he said with a smile, "That the stars would tell me such mundane things?"

"I think it's some horsey power you have." I jabbed back. "Only explanation."

Firenze chuckled, "Fiery today aren't you."

I drank some more tea, trying to keep a dignified posture.

Firenze laughed more freely, "Fair enough." He flashed his brilliant teeth. "I could just tell you were pregnant. A. . . what did you call it? Horsey power?"

I flushed, "I apologize for being so inconsiderate."

"Apology accepted." Firenze said, sounding amused. "But considering childbirth is a part of nature and Centaurs keep the balance of nature, it is in our ancestry that we know about childbirth. And you, Elizabeth Kane, have a child growing inside of you."

"Yes." I said, slightly reluctantly. "Yes, I do."

"And you're married." Firenze said, pointing to the nearly invisible ring on my finger.

I lifted my left hand. The ring never left it, but I had put a camouflaging spell on it so it blended in with its surroundings. As I said, nearly invisible.

"Yes." I said, blushing slightly.

"With a Professor?" Firenze asked, not as amused this time.

"Three for three," I muttered.

"What I can't understand is why." Firenze said and he sounded legitimately frustrated.

"It was something I foresaw." I said after a long moment of silence. "I don't foresee things about myself and it was the one and only thing that I foresaw."

"I see." Firenze said, and he seemed to relax, and sipped some of his own tea.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment and then he asked, "Which Professor?"

I blushed bright red, quickly racking my brain to think of all the possible candidates for this position that Firenze was thinking over. Dumbledore, Slughorn, Snape, Flitwick, Hagrid, possibly Filch, and then himself. He could cross out himself and Dumbledore and that left everyone in between.

I was momentarily fascinated with the idea of Hagrid (not because I liked him in that way, but simply because it was a hilarious image) and then said with slight embarrassment, "Severus Snape."

Firenze's eyes did not judge, but simply seemed to accept this fact without question, and he merely said, "An interesting choice, but perhaps one that will change the future."

"Pardon?" I asked.

Firenze looked at me with a measured gaze. "Professor Snape has never been known for his kindness or better emotions. He is a considered cruel, calculating, cold, heart-less, ruthless, though perhaps a bit warmer towards his house students. Perhaps you will simply bring out the better emotions in him, the ones that he hides."

I wanted to change the subject and so I said, "I drew something for you, but I'm afraid that it could possibly be offensive."

Firenze raised a delicate eyebrow. "Well, let's see it and I shall judge."

I quickly rummaged in my bag for my artpad and flipped to somewhere in the middle of the pad. I had drawn Firenze how I imagined he would look with more human eyes and also, a human body. He was wearing robes of sapphire blue and his eyes weren't quite sapphire blue, but rather a more indigo color. But his hair and colouring stayed the same. (Yes, this drawing was coloured).

But I had remembered last year or the year before, thinking of how he looked like one of the surfer boys in an American magazine. So, I had drawn a second drawing. His torso was naked and he was wearing swim trunks of sapphire blue color. His hair was slicked back, his eyes glimmering, and had a warm smile on his face. A surfboard was under his arm, a light blue color with a Centaur as the mascot painted in the middle of the surfboard.

I handed it over to him and he took one look at it and let out a delightful laugh, "You are quite ingenious Elizabeth Kane."

"You like it?" I asked hesitantly, but pleased.

"Quite." Firenze said, his eyes dancing.

"Then flip to the next one." I said eagerly, for I had drawn myself as a Centaur.

He flipped to the next one and laughed again, taking in the pale legs and the long red-brown hair, reaching almost the forest floor. I had drawn the bow and arrows Firenze had given me for Christmas in my hands and strung about my back. I had changed my eyes to green in the drawing, making me look much more like Lily than myself.

"This one is good." He said, turning it back to me. "However, I think you should have stayed with your own eyes."

"I'll keep that in mind." I said with a small smile, sliding the artpad back into the bag.

We spent much of the day chatting and then I left so that I could catch dinner with the Hufflepuffs.

"We have a problem!" Susan fretted as we sat down at the table.

"What?" I asked, looking between everyone.

"Well," Ernie started, "Luna's Quidditch commentary got everyone a bit stirred up about what you're doing for the teachers."

"The teachers are starting to suspect something." Susan fretted, tearing apart a chicken sandwich instead of eating it.

I stared at them for a moment, searching for ideas. Of course, I needed a place that I could draw and create art in peace. But the art classroom wasn't always empty and there wasn't really anywhere in there that I could keep my drawings without hoping that someone wouldn't come across them.

Besides, I needed more art utensils than what was in the art room. But what kind of room would have everything I needed? I mean, I would have to have a room designed by my own intentions. I froze. That was it! "I have an idea!"

"What?" Ernie, Justin, and Susan all asked while Rose swallowed a piece of sandwich whole in order to choke out, "Is it a g-good one?"

"Yes." I said, grinning. I looked up at the table and could've sworn that multiple Professors looked away from me. So they were suspecting something. "Give me a moment."

I dashed to the Gryffindor table where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sitting.

"Hey Elizabeth!" Hermione said brightly.

"Harry," I said with no salutations. "I need you to secure the room of Requirement tomorrow around eleven o'clock."

"Why?" Ron asked, his mouth full of chicken.

"Is it about Malfoy?" Harry asked immediately.

I shook my head. "No, I need it for my own purposes. But I won't be able to use the room if D- if anyone is in the room."

"Okay." Harry said, seeming a bit put out.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

"If you want, you guys can come in with me." I said, grinning. "I have a lot of work I'll need to do and I think I'll need your help anyways Hermione. Hopefully, you know a good duplicating charm?"

"Yes-" Hermione said but I was already up and hurrying back to the Hufflepuff table. We all put our heads together and I whispered out where we were meeting. But I left all of them in the dark about what the secret was.

That night, Severus recited the story of the key collector back to me. As he spoke, the images and the story came back to me, piece by piece, but it didn't seem to hold the same. . . essence than when I had told it. I didn't say this though.

"So what's going on with you and your Hufflepuff friends." Severus asked after he was done telling the story. "Is Miss Lovegood right? Are you working on something for the teachers?"

"None of your business." I said teasingly.

"I think it is." Severus said, sweeping his hair back dramatically.

I grinned but kept my lips closed, something that seemed to irritate him more than he let on. He hated secrets. Especially when I was the one that was keeping secrets from him.

The next day, I slept in late and then snuck off the room of requirement with my bag of art supplies. I had also grabbed my secret drawings from the drawer of the Hufflepuff girls' dorm.

Harry was already there, informing me that no one was in the room. I quickly walked back and forth three times thinking, 'I need an art studio, I need an art studio, I need an art Studio.'

When I opened my eyes, stopping in front of the blank wall, there was now a door. I grabbed the handle, opening it and Harry followed me inside before saying, "Whoa."

I had to agree, though I didn't voice it. The walls were pale pink in color and at the far end there were large windows, something I had seen in a movie. There were no actual decorations on the walls except for nails and other hanging appliances. There were also blank canvases that I could paint on.

There were multiple desks, powder blue in color with white chairs sitting in front of them. On the desks were cups filled with pens and other utensils. There were also potted plants in the corners and on some of the desks and a few hanging from the ceiling. But that was, of course, just a Hufflepuff touch.

There were thousands of art easels (though perhaps a few more or less of that number) with nothing on them. There were also boards that I could clip art too. There were ladders attached to the walls and a second floor, a.... what was that word? Loft! Yes, it was like a loft. Perhaps to overlook the artwork done below or perhaps it was to do more work up there.

Along one wall was a bookshelf but instead of being filled with books, there were cans and boxes with labels on the outside: Pencils, pens, quills, scissors, glue, sharpies, etc. Anything and everything that could be used to create art. Paint was on a different shelf, every color imaginable there and I was sure that if I was missing a color, I could simply think of needing it and it would appear.

I wondered if I would ever leave.

"Oh my gosh!" A more girly voice said and I turned to see that Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had entered the room. Harry was over by the windows, looking out. I wondered what the view was.

"Eliza, this is lovely." Ginny said.

"Isn't it?" I asked with pride. Funny feeling, I hadn't done anything except wish for it. I hurried up the ladder, wanting to take a look around the loft.

There were comfy couches up here and small tables. There was real art up here, probably replicas, of the Mona Lisa, The Starry Night, The Last Supper, The Birth of Venus, American Gothic, The Swing, and one of my personal favorites: A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. I noticed that the same art piece that Fred had sent me for my thirteenth birthday from Egypt was there too, but I did not know the name of the piece.

The door opened again and walked in Ernie, Justin, Zacharias, Rose, Susan, Hannah, and Trang.

They all gaped and threw out various comments about how wonderful or lovely or amazing the room was though admittedly, the boys showed less interest than the girls.

We all gathered up in the loft, sitting on the couches and chairs.

"But what are we doing here?" Ernie finally asked.

"So." I started, "Luna spilled that there was something secret going on for the teacher's." I looked around at everyone but no one seemed to know anything. It was possible, however, that Luna had guessed or perhaps overheard. While different, Luna sometimes knew more than she let on. "Anyways." I said, pulling out the artpad that I had been saving as a secret. "I thought we might throw out a Trojan horse."

Only Hermione, Trang, and Justin seemed to understand what I was saying.

"Er, what's a Trojan Horse?" Ron asked.

"Brilliant!" Hermione asked cheerfully. "Oh I completely understand."

"You would." Ernie said pompously, "but the rest of us have no idea what she's talking about."

"The Trojan horse was seemingly a peace treaty between two warring civilizations." I said. "It was a large wooden horse that was left in front of the gates of one of the protected cities. The city believed it to be a peace offering and brought it in through the gates. However, once the horse was brought in and the village went to sleep, a secret opening in the horse opened and the soldiers leapt from the horse and killed everyone."

The others didn't seem to have any idea where this was going, including Justin. Hermione however, was grinning ear to ear.

"But how does that help?" Rose asked, looking the most confused out of them.

"Because," Hermione answered before I could, "If Elizabeth does something different than what was planned, something smaller, the teachers will think that's what was supposed to happen. Then, she'll pull out the real surprise at the end of term."

"Perhaps I should've used the term red herring." I suggested delicately.

Now everyone was on board.

"Brilliant." Ernie said, "And what do you have planned?"

I grinned, carefully pulling out pieces of artwork and laying them down on the table in front of everyone.

They all stared at them for a moment, silent, pondering, and I grinned. They were a bit disconcerting when first looking at them.

"These. . ." Ginny said, mouthing something afterwards.

"Elizabeth, this is. . . These are brilliant." Hermione said.

"Disconcerting was the word I was going to use." Zacharias said honestly, "I mean look at this." He turned the drawing he had picked up around and showed what was on the paper.

It was a drawing of Professor Flitwick at an average height of 5'8".

"They're all like that." I explained.

Dumbledore with a short beard and hair. McGonagall with long flowing hair. Snape smiling. Hagrid with a normal physique. Firenze as a human with a surfboard under his arm. Trelawney with sleek hair and missing the bug eyes, normal glasses, not looking crazy. Sprout wearing the finest clothes in the world and a bit slighter than normal. Slughorn with a full head of hair and wearing a pineapple costume. Madam Hooch with a shoulder length hair instead of the spikes she wore and looking less like a bird than usual. Filch looking kind and even handsome, smiling with a nice Mrs. Norris in his arms.

"They'll all get a laugh out of this." Justin said, putting the short haired Dumbledore on the table.

"Professor Snape might murder you if he sees this." Susan said grinning.

I chuckled. "I figured we could put their own in their place for breakfast, you know? Sometime after dinner and before breakfast. Harry can probably help me out with that. And then I need duplicates of these, two of each. One to each to pin up on the notice board and then one of each to keep in case they're, you know, set on fire by Professor Snape or something."

"We should get to breakfast extremely early so we can see their reactions." Trang said, seemingly unable to take her eyes off of the Professor Trelawney drawing.

"Agreed." Justin said. "When are you going to put these out?"

"Next week?" I questioned.

"Perfect." Susan said.

"We'll have to plan it out perfectly." I murmured softly.

We worked out some details and then everyone left, leaving me in the room by myself. I loved the place, more than I'd ever loved anything at Hogwarts.

I got to work, making it like home. I clipped my secret drawings up on one of the boards, all the rooms on one side, the people on the other, and the one that made the key room story in the middle.

Then, I laid out all the funny Professor drawings on one of the tables.

I scattered other drawings on boards, on walls, in frames, one tables and chairs and shelves.

I pulled down a piece of canvas off the wall and brought it to an art easel. I got to work, though drawing on a canvas is harder than it would seem. It is not smooth like paper though it is not exactly rough either.

I painted a seashore, or at least: what I thought a seashore looked like.

I hung the painting up on a wall, wondering how much time had gone by. Time was not a factor in here, nor was there a clock. But I did not want a clock.

I wondered if I was an artist or a healer or a potioneer or an auror. I had considered art a hobby until now. Now, my drawings were good enough to bring in money, to make people laugh, to make people see stories. Could that be a job?

I couldn't see it paying well enough to live on though. And I certainly hadn't given up the dream of healing werewolves. Art could stay a hobby.

I found special paper and realized that it was for making stained glass art and I started on that project, working (unknowingly) late into the night.

I finally attached the papers to the windows and as light streamed it, it refracted, casting different colors down on the ground.

I left, finding it strange that the castle was so dark and it hit me that the sun had probably set already. I hurried to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, dodging into shadows as teachers patrolled nearby along with Head students and prefects.

I would've turned into a cat if I hadn't been carrying my bag. Perhaps I should've left it in the art studio with everything else.

I did eventually make it to the office and when I opened the door, Severus was up, working on something at his desk. He looked up in momentary surprise and then asked, "Where have you been?"

"What time is it?" I countered.

"Near one in the morning." Severus said, putting his quill down and standing up, "Where have you been?"

"The art studio." I said, my joy expanding again.

"Art studio?" Severus asked with a frown.

"Room of requirement." I explained. "I turned it into an art studio. At least, when I'm in there."

"And there's no clock in there?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow, walking around the room extinguishing the candles.

"Why would an artist want a clock to constantly look at?" I asked, setting my bag down in the corner and quickly ripping off my clothes so I could put pajamas on and fall asleep. The earlier I woke up, the sooner I could go back to the art studio.

"To not be late." Severus said, wrapping his arms around me as I reached for the pajamas.

"Am I late?" I asked in mock surprise, falling into the bed.

Severus kissed me in response, but we didn't stay up late and went to bed very soon after.

The next morning, I was up and at the art studio. My hair was pulled back in a bandana. I was wearing long sleeves and short sleeved, checkered shirt. I had an art palette in one hand and a brush in the other, contemplating my newest drawing and where to paint.

"Morning." Trang said with a yawn, bringing in a silver tray that was filled with pastries in one hand and a tray with drinks in another.

"Morning." I said brightly, starting on the grays wings before working my way towards yellow eyes. "What's that." I gestured aimlessly to the trays.

"Food." Trang stated, putting them down on a nearby table that wasn't covered in papers. "I can't believe you drew all these."

"They build up after the years." I said slowly, painting a sun in delicately.

"Are you even doing homework anymore?" Trang asked, though she sounded amused.

"I finished all of it on Friday night so that I could spend the weekend here." I put the palette and brush down and wiped my hands on a cloth. "You know, you can paint or decorate or whatever too if you want. It's not just my studio."

"Pretty sure it is." Trang said, sitting down on the table.

"But it's not." I said, grabbing a muffin. "You're my best friend and you are definitely a part of this, alright? If you don't want to paint- sculpt. There's lots of pottery things over there. There's stained glass art, there's crafts, and metal for something I'm not sure. Even photography." I motioned to a few cameras on the top shelf. "Technically, photography is an art, though an imprecise branch. But if you want a dark room for photography, I can create it."

"I didn't realize you knew so much about art." Trang said. "You never showed interest as a kid."

"I was too worried about grades." I said, picking up a tray and carrying it up to the loft. Trang followed with the other.

We set the trays down on a coffee table and settled into the couch.

After eating in silence Trang voiced something I had been thinking about yesterday, "Why don't you make this your career after school?"

"Not enough money in it." I said, putting down the muffin wrapper. "I have to think logically, you know? Besides, art comes second to helping people. I need a real career. This will just be a side thing if I decide to continue with it."

More silence and then, "You know, it hardly even feels like we're in a magic school right now." Trang said. "I mean, look out the windows. We're somewhere in Britain. We've both graduated and we're living here in the loft. We live here. We leave for work- well I do. But this is your life, your art is your life."

"But it's not." I said. "We're in a magic school. We're going to leave for bed tonight and we're going to wake up and return to the real world. We're going to learn about potions and herbology and magical creatures and charms."

"You know." Trang said very softly. "This. This was the real world to me."

And here it was, the bomb.

"You regret coming." I stated.

"Yes." Trang said softly.

Awkward silence.

"Why are you staying?" I asked.

"Because I have to." Trang said in a solid voice. "Because leaving means I gave up. Leaving means I'll never be able to defend myself from Death Eaters or Voldemort or just bullies. Besides, I have Oliver to think about and if we do end up together, I want to be just as capable with magic as he is."

I didn't want to have this conversation. "Things would've been easier if I'd never told you, huh?"

Trang snorted, "I always knew, Elizabeth. I was the one who searched the house and I was the one who decided to come here."

"And now you regret it." I stated again, feeling dead inside. The art studio suddenly didn't seem as bright and friendly as it had before. It felt bare, open, cold.

Maybe Trang felt it too because she stood up and said, "I regret it, yes, but I also don't regret it, Elizabeth. If I stay in the real part of the school, the part that doesn't become imagination, then I can remember why I'm here: because I always wanted to be part of this world. But if I come in here, someplace that's so normal to the me, then I lose that."

"Okay." I said, my throat tightening.

Trang headed down the ladder, her Ravenclaw robes flowing behind her and she strode to the door.

"Hey!" I called as she put her hand on the knob. "This isn't. . . this isn't a good-bye, is it?"

She smiled up at me and shook her head but said nothing and left the room, leaving me standing there.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕴 𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 Severus' room earlier than planned. He could tell there was something off with me and he said nothing. He simply put his arms around me, sitting us on the bed and let me stay there in comfort. I fell asleep before I really had a chance to say anything.

Time passed. I returned the art room on weekends though I postponed the teacher's portraits for the time being. When Trang heard, she came to see me in the library.

"E-"

"No." I said before she even said anything. "I didn't postpone the teacher's portraits because of our conversation."

It was a lie and a big one and she saw right through it. "Of course it was. You feel that I put you down. You're starting to hate the art studio, you think we're losing our friendship, you think that I hate the magical world, and you think that if you give up art then you'll gain back a friendship that you never lost."

"When did you take psychology?" I muttered, trying to concentrate on Transfiguration text.

"Sophomore year first term." Trang recited, "But that's beside the point. I wasn't putting you or the magical world down, and we certainly haven't lost our friendship, Lizzy."

I looked at her then, really looked at her. She hadn't called me Lizzy since we were kids. She had dark circles under her eyes and she was yellower than before. "I was just saying that I can't be in the magical world and have somewhere completely mundane inside of it, and I can't be in the mundane world and have something magical inside of it. All I was saying was that I wasn't going to be doing anything in your art studio."

"Our." I muttered automatically.

"Our art studio." Trang relented.

"I understand." I muttered, returning to the Transfiguration book.

"Good." Trang said. "Then you'll put out the portraits this weekend?"

I sighed. "Sure, sure, why not?"

"I see no reason why not." Trang said brightly and she got up, practically dancing out of the library. I looked after her with resentment and something that might've been amusement, but I was to put out to really tap into that better emotion.

I had skipped apparition lessons these past Saturdays and I was informed by a gleeful Hermione that she had managed to apparate twice now. I congratulated her genially and returned to my rune texts. Good, now she could stop being so rude because I apparated before her.

There was a test date on the twenty-first of April and I was starting to see what Trang meant by the art studio. It felt as though I was entering a different world when I left it. Like I had been taken out of time and inserted back in.

I also wondered if it would feel less like that if there were more students in the art studio. If more students participated in art crafts. I wasn't sure how many people I wanted in there though or who would even be interested. None of my friends were very craftmanshipy.

Sunday evening, I headed to the Gryffindor common room with Ron, Hermione, and Harry as we were all working on dementor essays and though I had finished mine, I felt that tonight was an important night and though I'd foreseen it, I couldn't remember the entire thing.

"You won't find anything in there." Hermione said as the four of us sat around the fireplace. I remembered sitting here before, waiting for Sirius's head to pop into the fire. Tears welled up in my eyes and I quickly wiped them on my robes.

"Don't start, Hermione. If it hadn't been for the Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here now." Harry said, flipping through his potions book.

"He would if you'd just listened to Snape in our first year." Hermione said in a dismissive way. I avoided Harry's eyes.

"You disagreed with Professor Snape's way of dealing with dementors?" I asked as I took a quick glance at Harry's essay.

"Yes." Harry said, not looking up from the potions book. "He says it's a spell but I said that there's more too it. More emotion needed to conjure the spell."

"I'm telling you, the stupid Prince isn't going to be able to help you with this, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed louder as though Harry was going to listen to her. "There's only one way to force someone to do what you want, and that's the Imperius Curse, which is illegal-"

"Yeah, I know that, thanks. That's why I'm looking for something different. Dumbledore says Veritaserum won't do it, but there might be something else, a potion or a spell. . ." Harry said.

"You're going about it the wrong way." Hermione said. "Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says. That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can't. It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that-"

"How d'you spell 'belligerent'? It can't be B-U-M" Ron interrupted suddenly.

"No, it isn't." Hermione said, taking Ron's essay from him. "And 'augury' doesn't being with O-R-G either. What kind of quill are you using?"

"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones. . . but I think the charm must be wearing off. . ." Ron muttered.

"Yes, it must, because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dugbogs,' and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wzlib' either."

I snorted unkindly.

"Ah no! Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!" Ron cried, exasperated and staring at the paper as though it had offended his mother.

"Why aren't you in the art studio tonight?" Harry asked while Hermione told Ron that his essay could be fixed.

I shrugged, "Change of scenery. I haven't been here since. . ." I broke off considering the last time I'd been here it had been to talk to Sirius. ". . .since last year." I finished feebly.

"I won't. Or maybe I will. . . then she'll ditch me. . ." Ron was saying now.

"Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?" Harry asked, looking away from me.

"You haven't ever chucked anyone, have you?" Ron asked, "You and Cho just-"

"Sort of fell apart, yeah." Harry said.

"Wish that would happen with me and Lavender, but the more I hint I want to finish it, the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the giant squid." Ron said in a depressed voice. I closed my eyes, knowing the crack of apparition would wake me up.

I woke up a bit sooner than that as Seamus cursed both Professor Snape and his ridiculous essay. I was going to fall back asleep as the crackling fire and scratching quills were the only thing to hear and they were quite sleep inducing noises when there was a loud Crack.

Hermione shrieked and Ron shouted, throwing his ink everywhere. Most of it splattered onto his essay but some of it hit my face and I grimaced, sitting up and wiping it away.

"Kreacher!" Harry proclaimed.

"Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give-"

Crack.

Dobby appeared alongside Kreacher. "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter! And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!" He threw Kreacher a resentful look.

My day brightened considerably, seeing Dobby. "Hey Dobby!"

"Elizabeth Kane!" Dobby squeaked shaking my hand in both of his. "How very good to see you."

"What is this? What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking between the elves, Harry, and me. (Cause you know, I have all the answers).

"Well. . . they've been following Malfoy for me." Harry said.

"Night and day." Kreacher croaked out, looking incredibly resentful.

"Dobby has not slept for a week Harry Potter!" Dobby said proudly and it was quite evident from the way he swayed while standing.

"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him not to-" Hermione started.

"No, of course I didn't. Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?" Harry said quickly.

"Master Malfoy moves with a nobility that befits his pure blood. His features recall the fine bones of my mistress and his manners are those of-" Kreacher started.

"Draco Malfoy is a bad boy! A bad boy who-who-" Dobby started and I reached out and grabbed the back of Dobby's shirt before he tried diving into the fire. "Thank you Elizabeth Kane. Dobby still finds it difficult to speak ill of his old masters. . ."

I let him go, sure that Harry would catch him if he ran. "But Kreacher should know that Draco Malfoy is not a good master to a house-elf!"

"Yeah, we don't' need to hear about you being in love with Malfoy. Let's fast forward to where he's actually been going." Harry said.

Kreacher bowed though he looked furious and said, "Master Malfoy eats in the Great Hall, he sleeps in a dormitory in the dungeons, he attends his classes in a variety of-"

I nearly snorted with humor though Harry wasn't in such a laughable mood. "Dobby, you tell me. Has he been going anywhere he shouldn't have?"

"Harry Potter, sir, the Malfoy boy is breaking no rules that Dobby can discover, but is still keen to avoid detection. He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a variety of other students, who keep watch for him while he enters-"

"The Room of Requirement!" Harry exclaimed, smacking himself hard in the face with the potions book and Dobby gave a jump of shock. "That's where he's been sneaking off to! That's where he's doing. . . whatever he's doing! And I bet that's why he's been disappearing off the map- come to think of it, I've never seen the Room of Requirement on there!"

"Maybe the Marauders never knew the room was there," Ron suggested.

"Possible," I interjected, trying to remember last week. Hadn't I said that Draco had been in the Room of Requirement? Had Harry forgotten? Or had I not made myself clear? I couldn't remember, "I'll ask dad, but I think it's more likely the rooms unplottable."

"Dobby, have you managed to get in to have a look at what Malfoys' doing?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, Harry Potter, that is impossible." Dobby said.

"No, it's not. Malfoy got into our headquarters there last year, so I'll be able to get in and spy on him, no problem."

"No you won't." I said though I knew Hermione had opened her mouth to answer, "Malfoy knew what our meetings were about. You don't know what Draco's doing, therefore, you won't be able to think the proper requirement to get in."

"There'll be a way around that. You've done brilliantly, Dobby." Harry said, dismissing my facts because of his wishes.

"Yes, Dobby, brilliant." I seconded.

"Kreacher's done well, too." Hermione said kindly.

"The Mudblood is speaking to Kreacher, Kreacher will pretend he cannot hear-"

"Get out of it." Harry snapped. Kreacher disapparated after one last bow. "You'd better go and get some sleep too, Dobby."

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby said, much happier than Kreacher and disapparated with another crack.

"How good's this?" Harry asked happily. "We know where Malfoy's going! We've got him cornered now!"

I sighed loudly.

"Yeah, it's great." Ron said with as much enthusiasm as Kreacher.

Hermione pulled Ron's inked up essay towards her, siphoning the ink away back into the bottle. "But what's all this about him going up there with a 'variety of students'? How many people are in on it? You wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to know what he's doing. . . ?"

"Because it's Crabbe and Goyle." I stated, finally deciding it was time to put my visions to use. "Remember in our first potions lesson? One of the potions in the cauldrons was Polyjuice potion. If Crabbe and Goyle were standing around all the time, people would get suspicious. But if it's a variety of students, especially little girls as we've been seeing, it wouldn't be nearly as suspicious."

"Of course!" Harry said. "Brilliant Elizabeth!"

"So that little girl who scales I repaired?" Hermione asked in an almost awed voice.

"Yeah, of course. Of course!" Harry exclaimed. "Malfoy must've been inside the room at the time, so she- what am I talking about? - he dropped the scales to tell Malfoy not to come out, because there was someone there! And there was the girl who dropped the toadspawn too! We've been walking past him all the time and not realizing it!"

"He's got Crabbe and Goyle transforming into girls?" Ron asked, laughing. "Blimey. . . No wonder they don't look too happy these days. . . I'm surprised they don't' tell him to stuff it."

"Well, they wouldn't, would they, if he's shown them his Dark Mark?" Harry asked.

"Hmmm. . . the Dark Mark we don't know exists." Hermione said, rolling up the essay and handing it to Ron.

"It does." I stated. "Voldemort plans on Draco failing so that he can kill his entire family. It's just punishment for Lucius Malfoy messing up so terribly at the Ministry, that's all."

"It doesn't matter." Hermione said, standing up and even though I wasn't sharing all my information with them, I still thought her view was quite a peculiar one in this case. "I still don't' think you'll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what's there first. And I don't think you should forget what you're supposed to be concentrating on is getting that memory from Slughorn. Good night."

She made her way up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. I stood too, stretching for a second and then said. "Good night boys." I made my way out the Gryffindor portrait hole before turning into a cat and walking freely through the halls to Severus' office.

⬅️➡️

[kimmiessimmies]

Tag 9 People You Want to Know Better

I was tagged a few days back by @nocturnalazure, but didn’t get round to doing this sooner. Thanks for the tag, these are interesting questions!

Last Song: I truly don't remember... So much music reaches my ears during the day that I really don't recall what the last song was. 😄🤷🏼‍♀️

Last Show: Inside Man, now that was a psychological rollercoaster... I still haven't made my mind up whether I liked it or not.

Currently watching: Queen Charlotte, which I'm enjoying. Although in truth I'm sort of half-watching since I'm building community lots in my game at the same time. Below is a picture of my current set-up pretty much every evening. That's me though, always multi-tasking!

Currently reading: Just finished Loveless by Alice Oseman, which was the last book in my obsessive binge-reading marathon of everything Alice has written. I just love her characters. They are the real people who hardly ever (if not never) get to see themselves represented in books. Representation is so important and I love how Alice does this. An additional detail I adore in her books is how characters from one book often make sneaky cameo appearances in others. I'm a huge fan of intentional details and continuity, so this is right up my street.

Now I have no more Alice Oseman books to read, and cried in a corner for a while, I am now ready for a new author to binge-read. Just need to find the right one.

On a completely different note, I'm also reading Smart but Scattered by Peg Dawson, which is a non-fiction book about how intelligent children (in this case, she also wrote a book catered towards adults) can struggle with everyday, mundane tasks such as completing homework or getting dressed, but also things like regulating their emotions due to poorly developed executive skills. I'm quite fascinated by the topic of executive skills on both a professional and personal level, so it's a good read, be it a rather specific one.

Fun fact about my reading: even though English is not my first language (it's Dutch), I prefer reading in English. Except obviously for books by Dutch authors, I read those in Dutch.

Current Obsession: Besides the one noted earlier, I guess my current obsession lies with my Sim characters. After being away from them for so long, it's so good to be back and finally share the stories which only lived in my head for years. I have a future storyline that keeps building up and expanding in my mind. I can't wait to tell it, but now is not the time: The characters involved aren't at that stage yet, but boy, is it a plot twist! Writing before playing is new to me, but I'm loving it so much. The author inside me is finally waking up which is such a rush, it causes me to be rather obsessed with the elaborate storylines forming in my mind. I hope that makes sense instead of making me sound very self-involved. (Which I don't think I am, I still care deeply for the ones around me too 😄)

This was fun to do! Thanks again for the tag, Noctie! I won't tag 9 people, but I shall tag @simsaralove, @treason-and-plot, @desiree-uk, @lilidebergerac @aroundthesims and @missy-hissy . Feel free to ignore this though, if you don't feel like doing it.

[apartments4rent]

Apartments For Rent: TEN-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Ooooohhhh man, this… This is fucking me way up, big time… I don’t even know where to begin with this… I should definitely be using this free time I have today doing my homework, you know, the thing with a hard deadline? That was technically due yesterday?? Well, how about instead of that, I take a walk down memory lane…

Do you remember the 21st night of September? 

Picture this: It’s 2013. It is your sophomore year of high school. You have more friends than you ever have in your life and they are all so wonderful to you (this wouldn’t always be the case and they all wouldn’t stick around but you didn't know that yet). One of you proposes the question: If you were a monster, what would you be? A witch. A vampire. A werewolf. A mermaid. A ghost. A selkie. A dullahan. (You had to look those last two up.) You are so inspired by this that you want to make a story for these ideas to live in. You create a fantasy. Where all your best friends get to live together under one roof. A slice of a life you know you’ll never have. It’s actually the 20th night of September that you created the tumblr blog where most of what comes out of this will live (your first post says “why do i do this to myself”) but it is the 21st night that your creations get their names. Their genders don’t all stay the same but their cores haven’t really changed. “a very dramatic/theatrical witch who loves animals and sass master. a bubbly and happy mermaid who gets really scary when u cross her. a passive, nerdy vampire who isnt so out spoken. a moody selkie who loves to learn and lost her seal skin. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a ghost girl from the 1920s who is forgetful and not really confident but really likes her new friends.” You put a disclaimer at the bottom of the post, clarifying that these descriptions shouldn’t be taken as a description of your friends but separate characters entirely. This is also the birth of Marvin, the human man created to navigate this world of chaos, not based on anyone you know in real life. The straight man in this goofball circus. Your Original Character. (Who, you now realize, was designed as the boring main male character in the harem anime.) This was the genesis. And you would never know peace in your life ever since. 

And then what happened?

Bro, so much. A lot can happen in 10 years. You develop the characters further. You make a small town for them to live in (even though you’ve never even been to a small town in your life). You make (bad) art. You make sims because you hate the way you draw but you need a physical version of them to exist outside your head, as you see them. You apparently make a rule where no one outside of your little group is supposed to know about these characters (because you “had an experience” and “don’t wanna repeat it”). You make Alternate Universes for these Alternate Universe selves to populate, again and again. (As of right now, your “AU of an AU” list stands at 26 but there are probably more dumb ones not yet counted on the doc you made.) You try to make a one-shot comic collaboration with all your friends but no one seems to agree on how it should go so nothing but a script and panel formatting ends up getting made. (You know that your script was worse with many unnecessary details but you were bad at killing your darlings and stubborn about your ideas being the best. You’ll learn eventually.) You love and appreciate all the things your friends make for this story you start to feel full ownership of. (You haven’t noticed yet how much of a control freak you are.) Their writing and art give you life, especially considering they are doing The Most while you mostly just come up with ideas. The setting goes from apartment building to boarding house and back again before a year has passed. The first anniversary is a blast! You actually wrote something! And drew something you were proud of! Others wrote and drew and it was great. (How would you know it would never be like this again?) 

And the years go by and by… 

After the first year, you decided you wanted to make a dating sim with these silly characters because you just loved them so much. You shipped the characters (not realizing that your friends did it as a way to express they had crushes on each other, conveniently shipping your self-insert with the only man/only character not based on a friend.) There were still a lot of headcanons being made and posts being shared. But noticeably less and less. Then the second anniversary hit. Not much fanfare. After the second year, more characters started popping up based on more friends you make. Some of the friends that were there in the beginning weren’t anymore and you try not to think about it. After all, these characters aren’t your friends, they are separate and distinct from them. So it’s still OK to play with them, right? (The answer must be yes; ten years later you still do.) Then the third anniversary happens, with 4 posts between them. It was understandable. That was your senior year of high school. Everyone was getting ready to go their separate ways. You were moving clear across the country. Your friend group was getting smaller still and this big shake-up would prove who would stick around to still be a part of this thing and who would remain a memory for you to look back on in ten years. 2017, though, was a big year for the blog. You were unemployed and not yet going to college so you had A LOT of free time on your hands. It was probably the most number of posts you made since the first year of the blog. It was magic. Then you got a job. There have been 16 posts in the last 6 years. 2019 had none. 2020 and 2021 had one each. They were all made by you. There has certainly been less activity on the blog but that doesn’t mean these kids have been lying dormant all this time. You haven’t stopped thinking about them since they first popped up into your head. In 2019, you rewrote the story you had written for one of those anniversaries; the first chronological beat. (You haven’t read it since then; You have no idea if it’s good or not.)  In 2020, you attempted to write the actual story (like fr fr) for NaNoWriMo -- you didn’t get very far but it’s the thought that counts? 2021 was a quiet year as far as actual writing goes - as was 2022 - but trust that your brain definitely didn’t forget about them. 

The Retro part of the Spective 

Alright, enough second-person POV. 

Ten years.

Ten years. 

Talk about hard pills to swallow (thanks FOB). 

I’ve had this “story”, these characters, banging around in my head for ten years and what do I have to show for it? A couple thousand words and a blog full of half-thought ideas? Around this time last year, I was excited about this anniversary. I made a new Twitter for it (before that died) and was planning on actually publishing something to do this story justice… and I chickened out. I convinced myself, once again, that I wasn’t ready. That other things were more important, they took precedence. Do I have even that much to prove I was right? No, I don’t because I really haven’t changed all that much in ten years, if you can believe it. I know, a real shocker. (I still like all the same things I liked back in high school for crying out fucking loud!) I wanted to reach out to the people I used to do this with, to see if they still wanted to be part of it. (I’m sure that wouldn’tve been at all hard, I wonder why I didn’t follow through?) I wanted to have something so I would be able to say, “I did it.” So that maybe, I could finally move on. But that’s the thing, isn’t it… I don’t want to move on. I’m stuck in this arrested development because I refuse to change, to give up any past part of myself. Because if I don’t have that, I don’t know who I am. 

So now what? What’s all this for? One big, sad diary entry reflecting on the parts of myself that I already know very well? 

Honestly, I don’t know. I was hoping I could come to some sort of conclusion by writing this but as it turns out, it only made me want to cry. 

I wanted this to end on a good note.

I spent all day writing this, I can’t end it like this.

So let’s instead talk about all the things that have changed about these goofballs over the years:

Mystic Cove is a city in a Northern California town. It started out in Florida, it almost ended up as a mountain town. I also briefly considered straight up placing it in San Diego because there are some nice, beautiful, old-ass buildings downtown that juxtapose the cold, sleek skyrises in such a way that I thought about writing something about being lonely in a city and finding your own family. 

Vast Acres has been an apartment building, a boarding house, Mediterranean Revival, Victorian, Queen Anne, even briefly considered a Bed and Breakfast. All I know is it has to be the place where this family gets together. At one point under the ownership and operation of Marvin’s dad Alejandro, it is now bequeathed to Marvin by a mysterious, freshly dead uncle/great uncle. 

Marvin is a wholeass person to me, in that he’s not completely knowable to even me anymore. Marvin is probably the person in Mystic Cove I know the BEST and that like doesn’t mean anything to me. Like yeah, I’ve written pages and pages and answered so many pointless questions about him but… I don’t know how else to describe him other than, “He’s an enigma.” The most significant thing about him that’s changed is I’m considering undeading his mom? Just because I feel like we’ve had enough dead mom media and it’s not something I can speak to truthfully. Briefly considered making her a runaway mom? But we’re still thinking about it. I think her name is Lily? 

Mel’s name went from Melinda to Melody because I decided Melinda was a weird name? And Mel likes music so I thought I would be clever. She went from “Marv’s sister” and side character to basically co-lead. Mel was even almost briefly considered as the real main character for a time when I thought to lean into its roots as a product of a high schooler’s imagination and go full YA coming-of-age adventure. It was actually the subject of my 2020 NaNo attempt. I decided against it because I loved Marv too much to push him to “supporting character” and if there’s something about me that’s developed, it’s that I don’t much care for YA books anymore. 

Amber is unsurprisingly my favorite because I’m a Leo. I think I finally decided on a backstory for her that I like and she’s not white anymore? Like, not fully anyway lmao. Before she was like, from someplace in England with like Spanish parents so like tan? But now we’ve decided that she’s from colonized Mexico and her father is a white devil. :) I’ll let you figure that one out. Over these ten years, I’ve grappled with the fact that an immortal is almost impossible to understand. I’ve gone back and forth on whether her immortality is on purpose or by accident or a curse or what. Honestly, I’m still thinking about it, I don’t know for sure what I’ll end up picking. Right now though, it is an involuntary immortality with her life being tied to her sister’s (yes, the cat). Details are fuzzy. I’d have to finish the main story first but if I were to make a spin-off, I would make a prequel story about Amber’s life because it is QUITE eventful. 

Lucas is a man now lmao. And so is Will. And they r gay. For each other. But that’s been that way from the beginning lol. I think Luc’s story had to do with self-worth and Will… Will didn’t have much going on in my mind. My instinct was to make him a himbo but Will has always been very smart in my head so I don’t think that will work? Dude’s beefy asf and mad respectful so perfect man tbh? No notes. 

Jenny’s been my way to try to break down the trope “Born Sexy Yesterday” because that’s just the kinda guy I am. No, but fr I think I was making a very infantilized version of Jenny initially and that’s why I shipped her with Mel in so many AUs?? I’m not against skewing Jenny younger to make that ship viable in canon but I don’t know if that’s the story I want to tell. I don’t think Jenny ever had a goal beyond “Get to the surface” which she gets when she makes her appearance in the story so?? Where do we go from here? Things to think about…

Rohen was fat (like a proper seal should be) before they lost their skin on the beach to some snot-nosed kid and became depressed. When they start healing on their depression journey, they start to gain weight again and it's a good thing. :) 

Everyone else I haven’t mentioned yet hasn’t changed much (ie. I haven’t thought about them much). It’s not that I have favorites (even though I just said that I did), it’s just that I basically go down a list whenever I think about these guys, and, due to my short attention span, I never make it all the way down the list. AND honestly, it’s probably for the best because looking back… there were WAAAY too many characters to keep track of ngl… Like it’s a slice-of-life thing, I know. Not every character has to be involved in every storyline but like… At some point, you have to draw a line at, “How many named characters with their own plotlines can I insert into this story?” YKWIM? Especially because at one point there was a whole roster of other people who lived in the apartment building when there were like 20 units. That was (rightly) reduced back down to just the core cast. 

You can pry Jonesy from my cold, dead hands, tho. He’s perfect. He can stay.

This post took me literally all day. 

I’m tired.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all this but if you are not me and you made it to the bottom, congratulations! You now know me on a much deeper level! :) I hope I can convince myself to buckle down and write, straight up. Maybe NaNo this year? No promises. I’m trying to apply for university this year and living situation issues might take precedence but such is life, right? 

Thank you.

I love you all.

For giving me this gift.

Even if you never intended to give it fully to me.

It’s mine now, bitches. >:) 

Here’s to 10 years! And many (but hopefully not too many) more…

Cheers. 🥂🍾

❤️

[laylajeffany]

(hi I know you don’t know who I am, but I love your fic “Chaos For The Fly”.) sorry for this long thingy.

Hello, I’ve been reading your fanfic “Chaos for the Fly” I’m sure you’ve heard of it, Yeah?

Ok, good.

Well, I’m just over a chapter into writing my very first, ever (soon to be) posted fanfiction, and I was wondering something.

Feel free to say no, I won’t be upset… much.

But, I would very much like to “borrow” several of your OCs from Chaos. I just feel as though they are cannon to me and any OC that I come up with, would just be a pale, poor imitation of your characters. I mean, granted, they would still be pale, poor imitations of your work. Regardless of if you let me use them or not.

Like I said, feel free to say no, they are your creations and you did the work. All I would be doing is copying your homework but changing it enough that the teacher (readers) can’t tell that I copied off of you.

For real though, I wouldn’t be copying them verbatim. I’ll be altering the story to fit mine, but for the most part I plan to use most of their beforehand lives in the same manor that you did. Obviously, some of it will be different, and the writing will be astronomically worse, compared to your writing.

I will also be changing most of everything that happened after the new semester begins. But they will still be the same characters, for the most part and was wondering if I could use them.

Again, say no if you want. I haven’t actually gotten to the point in the story that I wanted to write them in.

So, don’t think I’ve already written stuff with them in it, and that you don’t want me to scrap what I have. I haven’t written anything with them yet, except for concepts and ideas for the story as a whole.

Also, obviously I will give you credit, for the use of the characters. I’m not that heartless. I will link your fic several, several times throughout my fic. And I will state in several chapter notes that I got permission from you.

Anyway, thank you for the fantastic fanfiction. I blame you for the heartache that’ll come with writing fanfiction and actually posting it. And have a nice flight.

List of characters I would like to use: Dr. Josephine Zypher (of course), Her girlfriend Emiliana Girard (that was how it was spelled right?), the snakes Altair and possibly Gus Gus (can’t not have them), Dr. Kerrigan Gallor/bug man, and And Josephine’s Grandfather Dr. Hugh Zypher. I might also use Mr. Harlow, but I haven’t decided yet.

(PS. I’m only halfway done with Chaos, but I just had so many ideas that I wanted to start writing. So for the future, if someone says I’m copying your fic, it’s cause I probably wrote it before finishing chaos. I will state that much while posting my fic, but it may come up idk. Also, I’m trying to find the time in my days to write and read. But so far, I suck at time management.)

(PPS. I totally didn’t create a whole AO3 account, tumblr account, and Reddit account just because of your fic Chaos inspiring me to finally kick my butt into gear and actually start writing some stuff AND posting them. Instead of just writing crap and keeping it to myself for years and years. TYSM love your work. ❤️)

Wenclair for life!

I’m always content to encourage other writers and say that I am cool to share the toys in the sandbox. I’m glad that I have inspired you to write. First and foremost, I would hope that whoever is borrowing my original characters is not making any sort of profit from their writing, as I firmly do not believe in charging readers for fan works (ko-fi, a patreon or commissions for fic).

However, I’m not sure why you would want to borrow my OCs if you want to change them around? At that point, wouldn’t you just want to develop your own original characters if the ones I created aren’t going to serve your writing needs? I really don’t know why you’d want to use someone else’s OC and make it your own version of that original character when you could just make your own OC.

I also really don’t think you should just write a copy-change of someone else’s fic that you are planning to post? Like if you’re doing that to practice writing and keeping it in your own space, that’s one thing, but I think it’s pretty bold to copy-change and post someone else’s work with your own spin on what is already a fan work. I’m not sure I understand this. I ultimately don’t care. I won't read something featuring my OCs that I didn’t write, and don’t promote works that I don’t read so...whatever happens, I honestly probably won’t see it unless someone brings it to my attention.  I'm glad my fic has inspired you to write, and wish you well in that endeavor!