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wherethingscomebackx · 3 years

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Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!! As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic rec #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fic rec #larry fan fiction #updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic

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welovediaaxx · 3 years

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ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴅɪᴀʀʏ / / azula x fem!reader

warnings : slight cursing

part four // part five // part six

a/n : you guys already know it takes me a month to write 1500 words but whatever!! enjoy this chapter the next one is gonna be jucier i promise

taglist : @888-rising @firelordazulaaaa @sighsam @theblueslytherin @halcyon-arts @the-paintedlady @sweetcici-123

send me an ask or message me to be tagged 🤍☁️

i wake up abruptly by my alarm, quickly snoozing it as i look around, taking in my surroundings. i rub my sleepy eyes as i glance at all the empty containers of the chinese food left on my poor coffee table from the night before. that’sfor sure gonna be a bitch to clean up later. speaking of last night, why am i on the couch?

my question is quickly answered as i hear a small grunt coming from under the blanket across me. “what time is it?” azula asks as she stretches her arms. i stare at her in awe, how does she look so good mere seconds after waking up? “it’s only nine-thirty, we should go back to sleep” she grunts

my eyes widen at her statement. “nine-thirty? shit, i have class at 10.” now this is when i start panicking “zuko’s supposed to drive me today”

i check my phone and there it was, 3 missed calls from zuko and approximately

17 messages. and just on queue, he calls me again.

“hey zuzu, i’m sorry. i fell asleep, i’ll be down in a minute” i say as i start running around my apartment, grabbing along everything i need. i mutter a sorry to azula who just shrugs.

“uh-okay. why is azula’s car parked in front of your building?” he asks me. i can already hear his stupid smirk over the phone.

“sorry, bad connection. gotta go!” i say as i hang up the phone, making my way over to my bedroom. i put on a pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. i put my laptop in my bookbag and run back to the living room.

“i’m so sorry i have to leave like this,” i say to azula who’s sitting on the couch. she looks up at me “i feel really bad. but i’ll make it up to you. i swear”

“don’t worry about it. i had fun last night” she smiles at me.

“i had fun too. i’ll leave the keys on the kitchen counter. you can stay here as long as you’d like, just lock up when you leave” i return the smile “also, don’t open the door if mr chung knocks”

I simply had to ward her about mr chung. he’s a single gay man in his fifties who lives next door to me. he’s the main gossip provider of our building. now, don’t get me wrong, i love mr chung and all the hot gossip he offers. but i just wasn’t ready for all my neighbours to begin talking about ‘the new lady in my life’, as mr chung would probably put it

“uh okay, got it. i’ll just get my things and leave then.” azula says as she starts getting up from the couch.

“don’t worry about it” i bid her one last goodbye and grab my coat after i put on my shoes. i sprint down the 5 flights of stairs, deciding against going by elevator. i spot zuko��s car parked next to azulas and get in the passenger seat. i glance at my phone ‘nine-forty five’

“we can make it in fifteen minutes, right?” i ask as i glance at zuko

“it’s fine, we have mrs feng, she’s always late anyways,” zuko says as he starts backing out my driveway. “so…” zuko starts “azula’s car in your driveway? what’s that about?” he smirks

“it’s nothing you should worry about salami face,” i say as i return the smirk.

“i told you to stop calling me that! and don’t you even try to avoid the topic y/n”

“what? are you jealous i chose your sister over you? i knew that you still weren’t over me!” i tease him as i remember our pathetic eight-month relationship our freshman year of college in which we both realised we definitely don’t prefer the opposite gender. it was awkward, to say the least.

zuko rolls his eyes “no, believe it or not. i’m not jealous. so, she slept over?”

“yeah, we watched a movie and we fell asleep. that’s it.”

“hm… interesting,” he smirks and continues driving.

zuko and i enthusiastically sprinted across campus in hopes of making it on time. since luck was apparently on our side, we arrived right on time. we took a few breaths before opening the classroom door.

i quickly thank god for making it on time, before huffing and making my way through the mob of students who were chatting together. i plop down on the seat next to suki who had her head on the desk, her hair covering her face.

“hey suki” i say, putting my things on the table

suki groans as she lifts her head “hey y/n, is she here yet?”

“no, not yet.” i answer as i look around “where did zuko go?” i mutter to myself. of course the fucker escaped.

“here i am, i bought us some coffee,” zuko says as he sits on the chair by suki’s left.

“thanks zu. you’re and angel. i’ll need it too, i hate econ” suki says as she starts sipping on her coffee

“that’s exactly why literally everyone told you not to sign up for it,” zuko reminds her.

“yeah, i specifically remember us begging you not to do it. we knew you were gonna be miserable” i add.

“shut up, you know i needed the points,” suki says while grabbing her head.

“well, i know something that’s gonna cheer you up,” zuko tells her. suki immediately lifts her head, looking between us waiting for somebody to tell her what she missed. i groan and roll my eyes. of course, zuko can’t keep just one thing to himself.

“azula slept over at y/n’s house”

“you slept with azula?! i knew that the date went well, but not that good!” suki yells

“that’s not what he said!” i try to explain to her. just by my luck, mrs feng arrives just before i get a chance to explain myself. during the whole lesson, i could feel suki’s eyes piercing through my shoulder. despite that, i decided to be productive and pay attention. manly to keep my mind off of suki’s groaning and quiet complaining.

after our lesson, we all decided to go to the jasmine dragon and meet up with the rest of the group. suki, zuko and i all got into zuko’s car and drove there. the car ride was surprisingly quiet although i could feel suki’s tension radiating off of her, ready to bombard me with questions.

we made our way to our usual table, which was already occupied by sokka, aang, katara and toph. “hey guys” aang greets us as we all sit down. as soon as we sat down i could feel all eyes land on me. i knew immediately that zuko talked.

“what?” i say, deciding on playing dumb

“you slept with azula!” toph yells, thank god the whole coffee shop can hear her.

“zuko!” i yell at him. of course he can’t keep his mouth shut at any circumstance.

“hey, don’t look at me! suki texted the group chat, i thought you saw it” zuko defends himself while he lifts his hands up, trying to prove his innocence. after that, muffled arguing took over at the table. everybody voicing their opinion at the same time

“guys!” katara stands up “why don’t we let y/n speak?” she suggests

“finally!” i huff as everybody goes quiet. “i didn’t sleep with azula, she just slept over at my place” i exclaim to our table.

“yeah, right” toph snickers.

“hey!” i yell at her direction, fighting the smile coming onto my face. “you of all people should know i’m not like that”

“yeah, toph. we all know y/n’s the biggest prude here” sokka mocks

i roll my eyes “you guys are the worst friends ever.”

we were all in the middle of a heated debate about whether cereal should be considered soup or not (that sokka started, change my mind) when i felt a tap on my shoulder. when i turn around, i notice azula, wearing her usual casual clothes with a bag in her hand. i quickly excuse my self from the table, getting a few winks as i sit up.

“hey, what are you doing here?” i ask her.

“well, my uncle does own this place.” she raises her sharp eyebrows in amusment.

“right, of course. that was a stupid question” i say as i start playing with my hair. i can already feel my cheeks heating up as i look at the table behind azula for help, only getting a few thumbs up in reply.

“anyway, i brought you the clothes you borrowed me last night. i washed and dried them, don’t worry” she says as she gives me the bag.

“thank you, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble, though”

“don’t worry about it, i’ll take up any excuse i can get to see you” se says while flashing me a smile

“well, in that case, i should lend you my clothes more often” i giggled.

“maybe you should” she agreed “my friends are waiting for me, but i’ll see you around, y/n.” she said before turning around and walking back to two girls who were unfamiliar to me.

“yeah, see you around” i quietly sigh, mentally preparing for the interrogation that will take place back at the table occupied by my friends.

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla modern au #azula #azula x reader #azula x femreader #azula x fem!reader #azula modern au #azula x you

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warpriest-writings · 3 years

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Red eyes on Grandmother's grave.

Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud.

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen.

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent.

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!”

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.”

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.”

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program.

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.”

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field.

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!”

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin.

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind.

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while.

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher.

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting.

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.”

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk.

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.”

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.”

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice.

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well. It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast.

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!”

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun.

End Chapter

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#Red Eyes on my Grandmother's grave #wip #paypal

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justletmedomyou · 3 years

Text

short ones

some rec that no one asked for

Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen

Words: 8k

Prince Harry Styles is very private. He chooses to keep himself out of the public eye but feels lonely and isolated while surrounded by people in his hectic royal life. When he finishes his dissertation, he decides to take a solo holiday to one of the royal family's properties in the Swiss Alps.

Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

Works like a charm by falsegoodnight

Words: 18k

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

The devil’s in the details by raspberryoats

Words: 25k

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

or the one where harry’s on his way to becoming a professor and louis is the smart, bratty student

At your fingertips by falsegoodnight

Words: 27k

He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.

His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.

And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.

Three…

Two…

One.

Play.

Or, Louis really should have seen it coming.

Sweet like honey by falsegoodnight

Words: 33k

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.

For a while, it’s enough.

Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

Haven by xxPayne

Words: 35k

“I take it you’re not a new student?” “What?” Harry mumbles, caught up in the way his eyes are quite literally sparkling in the light. “Oh—No. Not a student.” “Are you a sub?” Louis asks. Harry clenches his hands into fists, holding them behind his back as he stumbles a bit. “I don’t, uh—I mean. I’ve never really gotten a chance to be a true sub, you know? My ex-partners were always scared they’d hurt me. But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.” Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter. “Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god.

Reduce Me To A Pleading Cry (Break The Skin and Tantalize) by taggiecb

Words: 37k

Or Harry is a broody submissive boss, Louis is a natural dom who works in the mail room at Styles & Styles, Niall is a matchmaking oracle, and a slender, dark haired man stands mute at the coffee stand encouraging others to spill their secrets.

The Pirate and The Piper by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 38k

Banished from Neverland by Captain Hook and the evil Siren Minerva, Louis is forced to live in the Other World. He makes a life for himself, resigned to the fact he’s never going to see his beloved home and Lost Boys again. Five years later he’s kidnapped and returned to Neverland, only to discover a far worse fate awaits him. But with an unlikely ally by his side, can he overcome those who seek his demise and restore freedom to his homeland?

Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

Before we knew by falsegoodnight

Words: 39k

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

Bruise you like a peach by falsegoodnight

Words: 40k

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

Things have gotten closer to the sun by starsea

Words: 49k

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Just a flicker in the dark by falsegoodnight

Words: 57k

Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.

He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.

“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”

He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.

Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.

Or, Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

Like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfics #fic rec #short

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

So Close - S.S. XLVII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 47

Word-count: 6.3k+

A/N: apologies for disappearing friends!! i’ve finally finished writing all the parts for 6a so i should queue them up for regular content again soon (also i’m pretty sure i’ve used this gif before but don’t mention it)

Sleeping had always been tricky for you, but after everything you’d seen and all the sacrifices you’d made protecting Beacon Hills, sleep was either short and dreamless or long and full of nightmares.

That night, you dreamt of Stiles.

He was always at the edge of the picture, just out of your view, but you knew it was him. His laugh, his voice, his silhouette. The way the light caught on his hazy figure and sometimes you could just make him out before he disappeared completely.

He always disappeared, but he always made you promise to find him, and you always did. Stiles was starting to fade into the distance again when the alarm tone rang out. It tore you away from him, but not before his hand caught yours and he said, “I can feel you forgetting me.”

The alarm tore him away from you before you could promise to remember Stiles one last time.

When you were sure you couldn't dream of Stiles again, you pulled yourself out of bed and forced yourself to get ready for school. You were already on your second cup of blood-spiked coffee when Mason, Corey, and Liam showed up. You crapped them out for trashing your house but it was largely just to get a laugh and not because you were angry with them. This was the first morning that you weren’t angry, just empty.

Scott broke up your fun before you could get anything really good out of them, and then he asked what Liam wanted to show you guys.

Liam took you to the living room and pointed up at the ceiling where a dark stain rested. There was a dark spot in the center and black tendrils snaking outwards. Definitely not a water stain; it looked almost like tree roots.

“That’s how he got in?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Liam asked. He looked away from the ceiling to gauge Scott's reaction.

“It’s a Lichtenberg figure,” you said, still staring at the long tendrils that seemed to reach out for something. An image flashed through your mind: these same tendrils snaking up a neck, unusually dark against the pale, sickly skin. Tearing yourself away from the Lichtenberg figure, you folded your arms around yourself. “They, uh- they’re common in lightning strike victims.”

“You knew someone who was struck by lightning?” Liam asked. You felt his eyes on you and curled in on yourself even more.

“No, I-” You shook your head and sighed. “I think so, but I'm not sure ... I don't know.”

“Stiles,” Scott said when you couldn't. You nodded at him and he gave you an encouraging smile in return.

“You can also usually find charred spots like this on the ground after a violent thunderstorm,” Mason said, blissfully unaware of how crappy you felt and continuing the lightning-related thought process.

“So that’s how the Ghost Rider got in,” Scott said. He looked away from you and back to the Lichtenberg figure on the ceiling. “He rode the lightning.”

Liam caught your attention in your peripheral vision. “If they can use the lightning to get past the mountain ash … no place is safe.”

“What about the others?” Corey asked. He sounded panicked. “It’s my fault they’re marked.”

“We’ll find a way to protect them,” Mason said quickly. He looked over at Scott and Scott looked over at you.

“And we’ll find a way to get the others back,” Scott promised.

One of your phones went off and scared the rest of you out of your stupor. You promised to reconvene later on, and split up to head to school. No matter often it happened, it was still jarring to discuss the supernatural special of the week over breakfast and then have to sit through econ and pre-calc.

Still, your friends found you between classes and it was back to piecing together a way to defeat the big bad. Today, it was relics. Specifically, a student ID card belonging to a sophomore named Jake Sullivan.

“Wait, what’s a relic?” Malia asked.

“An object with a fixed associated to the past,” Lydia said. As she spoke, you twisted your signet ring on your finger. It was a nervous habit that you'd picked up whenever you couldn’t turn the Feliscore Arcade coin over itself. “Jake’s ID was left behind after he was taken, and Gwen found her sister’s bracelet on her bedroom floor.”

“How can someone be erased and still leave something behind?” Malia asked.

“A conservation of mass,” Lydia explained. She was incredibly patient with her explanations considering how near-constant they were. “The total mass of any isolated system remains constant.”

“So, even the Ghost Riders have a weakness?” Scott asked.

“And a relic would be proof that Stiles existed,” Malia said.

“And that we can bring him home,” you said, sounding more hopeful than you'd meant.

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “And I think I can find one, but Noah and Claudia-”

“I can take care of Noah,” you said. “Give me the ID and I’ll go talk to him, but I think you should go looking while I do.”

The bell rang and you had to split up, but you and Lydia texted until you settled on a plan. It was a shaky plan, but you needed to talk to Noah and Lydia needed to do her Banshee magic to find something that belonged to Stiles.

So, hesitantly, you borrowed the car from Scott after school and drove yourself to the station. Once you were there, your hand hovered over the key. Once you went in there, everything would change again.

You yanked the key out of the ignition and headed to Noah’s office.

Your explanation of relics was shaky - Lydia could have done it much better - but Noah followed along for most of it. There was only one thing that he was caught on.

“You want to search my house?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I know it’s crazy, but if there’s any chance that Stiles left anything behind …”

“Why would it be there? At my house?” Noah asked.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. The light caught on your ring. “Because I heard what Elias said after we left, and my house has really thin walls,” you said quietly. Noah looked confused, so you went on, “I heard what you told Scott about-”

Noah pushed the case file in front of him away and leaned forward in his seat. “About my dream?”

“About your memory.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please. The worst that can happen is that Lydia doesn’t find anything.”

Noah sighed and rubbed his face. “She’s already at my house, isn’t she?”

“Got there five minutes before I walked in,” you said.

“Dammit, Y/N!” Noah shook his head. “This is just typical. You and Stiles are always-” He stopped dead when he realized what he’d said. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one of his chairs closer to the desk and put your hands out for him to hold if he wanted to. “I do it, too, sometimes,” you said softly. “I tell jokes that people don’t understand because they weren’t the ones I shared them with. Whenever I buy food, I buy a pack of Reese’s even though I don’t eat them. Seriously, you- you should see the stash I’ve got. They’re pouring out of my loose floorboard.”

Noah laughed. He pulled his hands away from his face and gave you a sad smile. “You know, last night I couldn’t sleep so I got up. Figured I’d do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car so I- I went to the garage, and some junk had fallen off a shelf and I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat. Without thinking, I yelled a name …” he took a deep breath. “Stiles.”

You smiled at him, trying to shove down the tears that threatened to spill. “The other day, Malia wanted me to promise her something, and I said ‘no matter what’ without thinking about it. She didn’t know what it meant but I knew that it was because it was something he and I used to say to one another.”

“Stiles,” Noah said.

“Stiles,” you repeated. “I’ve never actually said his name until now. It felt too, I don’t know-”

“Real,” Noah said for you. You nodded and he sighed again. “And that’s why you’re so determined to find something.”

You tapped the desk a few times as you answered, “Determined to find Stiles. This is just the first step.”

“Okay,” Noah said. He slid the ID back over to you. “Okay, Lydia can search the house.” Then he laughed. “Even though she’s already doing it.”

“Thank you.” You took the ID back and put it into your wallet. Somehow feeling more uncertain than when you came in but still comforted, you said, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Wait, do you- do you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee?” Noah asked. He looked awkward. “I mean, if you have the time.”

“I’d love that,” you said.

It was an awkwardly lovely coffee date. Noah knew the ending to some of your jokes, and you made his coffee the way he liked. Although you didn’t explicitly talk about Stiles, you talked about your grades and the diet he had to go on to help manage his cholesterol, how Mel was doing at work and life at the station. It felt like you’d been doing this for years. Just catching up.

But then your phone buzzed and you had to go help Scott track down Gwen. Even after apologizing a dozen times and Noah assured you that he understood, you still felt guilty as you left him there with two empty coffee cups.

You rushed to the school, listening to Mason’s hasty explanation of how Gwen snuck out of the bunker and Okafur, Steinbach, and Wallace were never in the bunker to begin with. He needed to figure out a way to stop the Ghost Riders and your job was to try and keep him safe until he did.

It wasn’t that hard, considering that nothing was happening aside from the team getting absolutely destroyed on the field.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mason cheered as one of the players got knocked down to the ground. Everyone around you got mad at him but you tugged on his sleeve to get to sit with you again.

“Hey, what did you realize, boy wonder?” you asked in a low voice.

“The night of the party, Parrish showed up. The Ghost Rider seemed … scared of him, I guess,” Mason said. “And then I remembered the mural.”

“The Hellhound fighting the Beast,” you said slowly. “You think it’s related?”

“It has to be,” Mason said. He sounded more confident than before. “The Hellhound’s a harbinger of death and these guys … I mean, it has to be connected.”

As if on cue, thunder started rolling in the distance. Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you said, “Find Hayden and tell her to call her sister. I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”

Mason dashed off and, after a few minutes of alone time, the wind started picking up. Then the light rain. When the lightning cracked overhead, your eyes darted across the field.

Scott was staring at the sky. He pulled off his helmet as the light rain turned into a downpour. You raced onto the field as players started taking cover. Corey yelled that the Ghost Riders were there, but you couldn’t see them.

The ref was trying to get everyone off the field as you huddled the players together.

“Okay! We’ve got all three, right?” Scott asked.

“Scott, there were four,” you said. Both of you turned to count but you still only came up with three players: Gwen, Okafur, and Steinbach. You saw Scott grab Corey’s hand and did the same. You couldn’t kick the Ghost Riders’ asses until you could see them.

Your grip tightened as you watched one of the Riders drag Wallace off the field as he screamed for his life. Then he just disappeared into a small cloud of green smoke.

“Oh my god!” Okafur yelled. “They’re real! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Stay together. We’ll protect you,” Liam promised. He wasn't as confident as Mason had been.

“How?” Gwen asked.

You followed her eyes to the quickly approaching group of Riders. There were just three of them but you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Scott told you all to run but the second you did, three more Riders showed up to block your path.

“Stay close!” Liam yelled, pulling the players behind him.

It didn’t help. They shot Okafur and he disappeared, just like Wallace.

Corey moved out of your grip but you could still see them. So could Scott. As one of the Riders readied their gun, you weren’t entirely sure whether seeing them was a good thing or not.

Liam tackled him before he could shoot but it was just an inconvenience for the Rider. He kicked Liam off of him. Scott jumped forward to protect him, but as soon as he moved another Rider shot Steinbach. He was gone.

“We can’t stop ‘em! Protect Gwen!” Scott bore his fangs at the Riders.

You did the same but you were so focused on the Riders that you didn’t notice Gwen slipped past Corey. The Riders shot her and she disappeared. In a few seconds, the Riders were gone, too.

The four of you stood in the field until the rain stopped, none of you managing to say anything.

“Hey,” you said to break the silence. The rain was clearing up. “Let’s go find Mason and Hayden. He might have an idea on how to end this.”

They nodded and you rushed back to the school. Mason and Hayden were fine. Parrish didn’t fight the Ghost Rider but it left them alone before disappearing just like the rest of them.

“Everyone from the bunker has been taken,” Scott said as he got off the phone with Malia.

“Everyone? How?” Mason asked.

“It doesn’t matter how,” Scott said. “Malia’s at the hospital and Argent’s been hurt. My mom’s with them.”

“I’ll go check on them,” you said. Looking over to Liam and the others, you added, “You guys get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott said with a nod.

You found Lydia at the hospital before you found Malia or your mom. She told you about Claudia’s frontotemporal dementia and how it should have killed her by now and you caught her up about the Ghost Riders taking everyone from the party.

The two of you found Scott and Malia before either of you got to talk about Stiles.

“Tell us you found something,” Scott said.

“I found out Claudia never had children,” Lydia said, dropping her eyes for a second. “So, Stiles can’t be her son.”

“What about a relic?” Malia asked.

Lydia shook her head and you looked down at your hands. You twisted the ring on your finger, so sure it was connected but not sure enough that it could be a relic. Tied to him, maybe, like Noah was. But not something that belonged to Stiles.

“There never was a Stiles, was there?” Malia asked, as gently as she could.

It was quiet. Scott broke it by saying, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

“We have to keep looking,” Lydia insisted. Her voice was urgent - the kind of urgency she only got when something was driving her supernatural Geiger counter crazy. “Check the school records again. Or call your dad-”

Malia shook her head. “No, we’re fighting the wrong battle.”

“No, we’re trying to find Stiles,” you said defensively.

“The Ghost Riders came back and we still have no way of stopping them. Whatever they are, they’re real,” Malia said. She was one of the best friends you’d ever had, but she was also cold and fixated on survival. You understood, mostly, but right now it was annoying. “We can’t keep chasing someone who isn’t.”

“Maybe he’s not real to you, but the rest of us actually give a damn,” you snapped. There was a time when you would have felt bad for snapping at them, but this wasn’t the time to feel bad. This was the time to find Stiles.

“Y/N, he didn’t leave anything behind,” Scott said gently.

“Just us,” Lydia said, seeming hollow as she looked up again.

You shook your head and started walking away from them. “This is unbelievable,” you mumbled.

Malia grabbed your arm before you could get very far. “Where are you going?” she asked.

You spun back around and pulled your arm away from her. When you were this upset, her touch burned. “To call Isaac and Cora since you guys don’t care anymore,” you said.

“No one said we didn’t care, we just-” Scott stopped, unsure what to say. “We just can’t keep losing people.”

“I’m not losing anybody else,” you said. “I’m finding him, Scott.”

“Then let’s do it together,” Lydia said, grabbing hold of your hand. Her touch was cold, but it still burned. She gave you a smile and looked back at the others. “Please?”

Malia was reluctant. In the wild, coyotes didn’t have time to track down imaginary best friends. Still, she looked over at Scott before she told you that you were out of your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Scott looked over at you. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll keep looking.”

---

It turned out that while your definition of ‘keep looking’ meant that you’d skip school the next day and get together as a group to discuss everything, Scott’s definition was to go to school and act like nothing happened. In an effort to be slightly less confrontational, you’d gone along with his plan, but it didn’t make you happy.

As hard as it was to believe by your scowl at Scott’s goofy smile when he dropped into the seat across from you at lunch, there was a time not too long ago when you would have at least tried to hide your bad mood from him.

“Get an A on that psych paper?” you asked, stabbing your food with a fork.

“No. Well, A-minus but that’s not the point,” Scott said as he shook his head. He took a breath and leaned forward. In a fake whisper, he explained, “Lydia found something. Malia’s already checking-”

You pushed your tray away and grabbed your bag. “Then why are we sitting here? Let’s go.”

Scott laughed and led you out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot. At first, he didn’t want to explain where he was taking you because he wanted to see your face, but - after some threats to tell Melissa about how the car got that scratch on the bumper - he finally told you about Lydia bribing the tow truck driver. He stopped talking when you reached a powder blue Jeep.

Your heart ached as you tried to remember something, anything, about the Jeep or the person who owned it. You tried to remember Stiles.

When no memory presented itself, you said, “Well. This Jeep isn’t going to search itself,” and pushed past Scott to get to the Jeep.

It wasn’t filthy, just a little dust-covered inside and pollen-coated on the outside. To add to the abandoned feel, the radio was stuck on the wrong frequency and only played static. Ignore how wrong it felt for the Jeep to be like this, you opened the glove compartment and found a red rag, some take-out receipts, and a map of Eichen House. The radio cut out and you froze.

“Why’d it stop?” Malia asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lydia said. Despite her rough tone, she flipped the Master Switch on and off four times before saying softly, “But there has to be a reason.”

Because he was incapable of sitting in silence for more than three seconds, Scott started sniffing. Loudly.

Turning in your seat, you asked, “Did you catch a scent or a cold?”

“A scent,” Scott said and shook his head in an attempt to focus. “Ours. Mine, yours, all four of us.”

“Mine? I’ve never been in this Jeep before,” Malia said, sliding forward in her seat in the back.

Scott shrugged. “Neither have I.”

“Yes, we have,” Lydia said. “We just don’t remember it.”

Malia tilted her head to the side. “I thought we were done with that.”

“You literally promised me last night that we wouldn’t give up,” you said, doing your best not to glare at her.

“No, Scott promised you. I didn’t promise anything,” Malia said.

“Mal, could you for once in your life try to understand when something is important to someone?” you asked. You didn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but they were out there and you couldn’t take them back now. You took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Can we please just keep looking?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to look for,” Scott said. “Parrish checked the VIN number and there’s no record of an owner.”

“The Jeep didn’t just drive itself here,” Lydia argued.

Scott looked over to Malia with his ‘they’ve got a point’ face. It reminded you of an argument with Isaac back when he thought the twins were the ones killing people instead of the Darach. You couldn’t remember who the other person in the argument was, so you guessed that meant it had to involve Stiles.

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Malia asked exasperatedly.

Scott looked at you, then he looked at Lydia, and then Malia, and then back at you again. “I’m on everyone’s side,” he said eventually.

Malia and Lydia started arguing over whether or not Stiles was real again, so you continued your search of the glovebox to help tune them out. Your hands froze over the Jeep’s registration papers.

“Guys, I think I found something,” you said, not caring what you might have interrupted. You unfolded the paper and leaned closer so Scott could read over your shoulder. “It’s from 1996.”

“But there’s no name,” Scott said.

“Yeah, but look at the address,” you said. “It’s Noah’s.”

---

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Claudia said after reading over the Jeep’s registration papers. “I haven’t seen that Jeep in … almost eighteen years.” She looked over at Noah for confirmation and he nodded slightly.

“But it’s in your name,” you said. “You never went looking for it?”

“It was stolen.” Claudia shrugged. She was either a very good liar or she really didn’t know anything.

“Then how did it end up at the high school?” Lydia asked.

Noah shook his head and opened his hands. “Beats the hell out of me,” he said with his trademarked sigh. “I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who’d want it now.”

Something about how flippantly Noah talked about the Jeep tugged at your heartstrings. “Someone with a sense of whimsy?” you asked with only a touch of your usual venom.

“I- I guess,” Claudia said with another small shrug. “I don’t know, girls. Maybe somebody dumped it there?”

Stiles would never abandon the Jeep, you almost screamed. You let out a low growl that reminded you uncomfortably of Malia and took a breath to recover.

Lydia set an uncertain hand over yours to calm you down. She turned back to the Stilinskis and asked, “Is there any way to trace the history of the Jeep after it was stolen?”

“No,” Noah said, frowning at the idea of how that would even be possible.

“Can’t you check for fingerprints at the station?” you asked.

Claudia looked over at Noah and shifted slightly closer to the edge of her seat. Noah met her eye and sighed again. “Is this about Stiles?” he asked.

“Can you please just check the Jeep for prints?” you asked, doing your best to keep your voice even and detached.

“Don’t you girls think you’ve taken this far enough?” Claudia asked. She reached out for Noah’s hand as she asked, but it seemed less like a move of solidarity and more like a reminder that she was there. She handed the registration details back to Lydia with her other hand. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you lately,” she said to Lydia, “but maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mom.”

Instead of telling Claudia that she was way out of line, Lydia just pulled her hand away from you, dropped her gaze, and nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she said quietly. She looked up again and flashed Noah a bright, dishonest smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can you just …” Lydia shook her head. You knotted your hands together to keep from reaching out to comfort her. “Um, do you mind-” she pointed to the hall where the bathroom was.

“Of course. Take your time.” Claudia nodded. She didn’t even make it through her sentence before Lydia was on her feet and heading down the hall. Shaking her head, Claudia turned back to you. “You’re a good friend for being there for her, but be careful not to encourage Lydia too much,” she said. “You know how unstable she can be.”

You swallowed hard to keep from snapping at her. All you could bring yourself to say was: “Lydia’s a genius.”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,” Claudia told you with a heavy look.

You’d been squeezing your hands together tightly to keep yourself grounded, but Claudia’s words made you squeeze so tightly that you could smell blood. “I’m going to go check on Lydia,” you said as you rose to your feet.

Noah called out to you but you told him it was fine and kept walking. You could hear him and Claudia whispering after you left; he thought she was too harsh on you guys, she thought you needed someone to stop enabling you, you stopped listening when you found Lydia slumped in the hallway crying.

You knelt in front of her and fumbled for her hands with one hand and cupped her face with the other. “Hey. Hey, Lyd, you’re okay,” you said gently. “We’re gonna find him, okay?”

“How?” she asked, voice tight through the tears. Her eyes darted down the hall. “How are we gonna find him?”

You faltered. A beat passed and you knew whatever you said next would sound fake. “I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find him. I promise we’ll find him, alright? No matter what.”

Lydia went still for a second. “No matter what,” she whispered. It sounded like a question when she said it. “Why are you saying that to me?”

“I don’t understand,” you said, pulling back slightly in surprise. You suspected the saying had something to do with Stiles, but you had no proof and it wasn't like Lydia could tell you anything for certain. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does,” Lydia said. She looked down the hall again and squeezed your bloody hand. “We need to go. Now.”

Lydia didn’t wait to answer any of your questions. She pulled herself up and basically dragged you out of the Stilinski’s house, apologizing for the intrusion and thanking them again for their time as if they’d actually done something helpful.

Once Lydia had safely buckled you into the passenger seat, she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway at such a speed that you were sure Noah would call you about the tire tracks. She explained, briefly, that she was having one of her feelings and you needed to get back to the school. To the Jeep.

You didn’t argue. You never argued with Lydia’s feelings, especially not when they had anything to do with Stiles. She seemed to be the only person who still wanted to find him, and you trusted that together you and she would find him.

It’s not that you expected to find Stiles sitting in the Jeep when you got to the school - even if a tiny piece of you hoped you would - but you weren’t expecting to find a tow truck driver trying to shake down Scott for more money.

“-Now I’m picking it up again,” the tow truck driver said as you and Lydia ran up to them.

“How much do you want? I’ll write you a check,” Lydia said.

“It’s not about how much. They want it out of here, okay? So it’s not up to me,” the driver said. He moved closer to the Jeep to attach it to his truck but Scott stepped in his way. Scott had never seemed intimidating to you - a byproduct of seeing him laugh so hard that milk sprayed out of his nose when he was five - but he looked intimidating at that moment. “Don’t make me move you, kid, okay? I’m hooking this thing up. And I am towing it away.”

Scott clenched his fist and you got ready to intervene, but Malia broke off a piece of the tow truck before anything escalated that far.

Malia handed the broken connector to the tow truck driver. “Your truck’s broke,” she said.

After some particularly nasty words, the tow truck driver stormed off and left your friends laughing in his absence. It was only a few seconds of laughter, but you felt a little lighter after a win - even if it was a small win.

“So what now?” Scott asked.

“I mean, he’s probably just going to come back in the morning,” you said. You looked at the Jeep over your shoulder and sighed. It looked so impossibly lonely in the dark parking lot. “Do you guys want to stay here for a while?”

“No,” Malia said, at the same time Lydia said: “Absolutely.”

Scott got that awkward look on his face when he had to choose between his friends. “Five minutes?” he suggested. “Just to make sure no one else comes back.”

“Fine,” Malia said begrudgingly. “But I’m not sitting in the back.”

“Deal!”

You and Scott sprawled into the backseat while Malia took the passenger seat and Lydia sat in the driver’s seat. Sitting behind the driver’s seat like this, you could almost picture Stiles sitting there. He always sat there, except when something was incredibly wrong or the time when he taught you to drive.

The memory of learning to drive was still fuzzy and disjointed in your mind, but that’s how you knew it was him. Stiles was in so many of your memories that without him it felt like your whole life was fuzzy.

You were still trying to piece together the fuzzy memories when a roar tore through your ears. A strained, agonizing roar. Whoever that roar belonged to was dying. You bolted out of Scott’s arm and clambered over him and the seats to get out.

“Did you hear that?” Malia asked. She’d been too uncomfortable in the Jeep after a few minutes so she'd stood guard outside.

“I think all of Beacon Hills heard that,” Lydia said.

“Who is it?” Scott asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think I recognized it,” Malia said.

Despite the very distinct and unexplained feeling that Stiles was human, Malia’s recognition sent electricity down your spine. “Let’s go find out,” you said, looking over at her for a second before taking off towards the preserve.

Finding whoever roared was clumsy. There was no scent and they hadn’t roared again since. You were still looking for the injured wolf when you tripped over the burnt body. Despite your badass shadow-wolf status, you screamed and scurried to your feet.

They let out a roar in response to your accidental kick to their ribs and you dropped next to them to check that you hadn’t just killed them. From the second you focused on them, you knew that it wasn’t Stiles.

“Hey, you’re okay,” you said gently. You reached out for his hand to take away their pain. Their hand wouldn’t open so you moved to their arm and started taking away their pain from there.

It hurt so much that you didn’t even notice that Malia and Scott got there until Scott put his hand on your shoulder and the burnt werewolf grabbed Malia’s arm. You pulled your hand away so fast that you took bits of burnt skin with you.

“Peter?” Malia asked.

He struggled to say something but nothing came out.

“Who’s Peter?” Scott asked.

“Peter Hale,” Malia said, not looking away from the burnt werewolf. He struggled again to say something. “My dad.”

“Your dad?” you repeated. Your voice ached from taking away his pain. “Peter Hale. That makes him Derek’s brother. I don’t- how could I forget Derek’s brother?”

A distorted voice broke through your internal crisis. “You were my beta first,” Peter forced out. His voice triggered something in Scott; a memory, you guessed. You didn’t remember anything.

Scott stuttered out Peter’s name. “He bit me,” Scott said. “How could I forget him?”

“How could I forget him?” Malia asked.

Peter looked more pained with the knowledge that Malia had forgotten him than when you kicked him. He looked heartbroken. He craned his head to nod at his hand.

“I tried to get his hand open but I didn’t want to break it,” you said quietly, moving around to try and see what Malia would find.

Scott took Peter’s pain away as Malia pried open Peter’s palm. Between the three of you, Malia got whatever it was and lifted it up.

A set of keys.

Stiles’ keys.

You snatched the keys from her and started running before either of them even had the chance to say anything. Nothing they could say could stop you from trying those keys in the Jeep, because you knew they were the key to more than just the Jeep. They were the key to bringing Stiles home.

Malia tackled you to the ground in the school parking lot and Lydia almost lost a hand trying to break you two up. Once again, the four of you piled into the Jeep, but this time you got in the driver’s seat.

Now that you were sitting there, key still clutched in your hand, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to try it. What if it didn’t work?

With an uncertain breath, you put the key in the ignition and turned it on. The engine sputtered. This wouldn’t bring Stiles home if you couldn’t get the damn engine to turn over. You kept turning the key and pressing down on the clutch.

“Don’t flood it,” Scott said next to you.

“Please, this thing is held together with more duct tape than-” You stopped arguing when the engine turned on. You didn’t talk. You didn’t breathe. All you did was wait.

And wait.

Stiles didn’t show.

“What now?” Malia asked, poking her head between the seats.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. A few annoying tears clawed at your throat as you spoke. You kept your eyes fixed on the steering wheel to keep from crying.

Scott started suggesting that you all go home when the radio stuttered to life. It filled the car with static. Scott reached to switch it off when a voice came on.

“Hello?”

Stiles.

You grabbed Scott’s hand and yanked it away. If he touched that radio then you were going to break his fingers.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

His voice fought the static but you’d recognize that voice through a hurricane.

“Can anyone hear me?”

Hesitantly, you reached for the walkie connected to the radio. You didn’t want to break whatever magic held the signal together and lose him. Still, you pushed on the button and took a breath. “Stiles?” you asked. “Stiles, I can hear you.”

Stiles said your name in a way that no one had ever said your name. He said it like it meant something. “Is that you?” he asked. “Scotty, you there?”

Scott held your hand over the walkie. “I’m here. Oh my god, Stiles- I can’t believe-”

“Oh my god, you know me?” Stiles asked. He sounded so relieved that your heart ached. “You remember me?”

“I’m trying to,” you said. “I- I dream about you. I promise I’m gonna remember you, alright? No matter what.”

It was quiet. Just the sound of your breathing.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked as he pulled himself closer. “Where are you? We’re coming to get you.”

“No, no, no. You can’t, okay? You won’t be able to find me,” Stiles rushed out. He was panicking and you wanted more than anything to fix it.

“No, Stiles, I need to find you,” you said. “Let me find you.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked at the same time you were talking. “Just tell us where you are and we’ll … we’ll come and-”

“Just remember this: Canaan,” Stiles said. Canaan. You were going to get that tattooed on your forehead to make sure there was no way to forget it. “Okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan. Promise me.”

“I pro-”

Static.

“No.” You moved closer to the radio, desperately looking for a switch to flip to bring him back. “No, no, no. Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me? I need you to say something, okay? Anything.”

Static.

“Stiles, please say something,” you whispered.

Scott said your name quietly. He untangled your hand from the walkie and set it down in its holder, putting his other hand to the side of your face. He said your name again, over your hysterics. “He’s gone,” he said gently. “We’ll get him back, but, for now, Stiles is gone.”

Tagged: @ietss @used-avocado @trustfundparker

#so close #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski #mccall!reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn

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fratboyvivimatthews · 5 years

Text

ryder donovan - about last night

“no lexi, i said no,” you huffed shutting your locker with an eye roll. “i’m not having a party at my house. not only would my parents kill me, but you know i don’t like parties,” you sighed staring right back at her green eyes.

her bottom lip jutted out, “please y/n/n? you would have the best party of the year on your hands. the take of the whole school for something other than your four point two gpa. don’t you want to have fun?” you rolled your eyes while leaning up against your locker. “come on, it would be so much fun. everyone would love, not that they don’t already because you’re the y/n l/n, the perfect student, athlete, and everything else - but like come on! please!”

you looked away from your best friend, attention focused on the people passing through the hallway. “nobody thinks of me like tha-”

“oh i forgot humble.”

your eyes snapped back to look at her, who had a small smile creeping up on her face. “lexi stop, don’t get your hopes up. i already said it’s not happening,” you stated walking away from your locker and starting down the hallway to econ. “i don’t do parties.”

“but you have a pool!” lexi yelled causing everyone in the senior hallway to look at the two of you, and your face to flush red. lexi’s eyes locked with yours before she opened her mouth, and you already knew what she was going to say. “par-” throwing your hand over her mouth you stopped her from talking.

“will you shut up for five minutes about a party?” you hissed stopping in the middle of the hallway, “i am not having one. that’s final.”

sighing lexi nodded, “okay fine no party.” you smiled at her, starting to walk to your class. “but can the girls and i at least come to sneak a peek at ryder?” your eyes rolled once more at your friend’s obsession with your next door neighbor. the same one who’s your kind of friend.

“yes, you can come over,” you started, lexi jumping up and punching a fist in the air, “but you guys are not sitting around the pool looking for ryder. you freaked him out last time you guys did that.” her cheeks flushed red, causing a smirk to curl on to your face knowing that ryder wasn’t even home the last time they tried to spy on him.

“he did not.”

“yes he did, now i have to go or i’ll be late, but i’ll see you before practice.” and with that you left your best friend standing in the sea of people.

your eyes glanced up from the notes your calc teacher was writing down on the board, until you heard your name. “hey y/n/n,” you knew it was the voice of ricky lyle, one of the hockey players, and a big partier. “phst, y/n come on. i know you can hear me.”

your eyes rolled as you kept looking forward writing your notes down, and not paying any attention to him. just then there was a ball of crumpled up paper hitting the back of your head. whipping around you turned around to glare at the hockey player. “what ricky?” you huffed trying not to seem annoyed.

he smiled at you, straightening up as he stared up at you. “so i heard you’re having a party on friday y/n/n,” ricky then whispered causing you to freeze in your seat.

“w-where did you hear that?” you stuttered out trying to figure out how to make your heart to start beating again. “because i’m not,” you added thinking back to the conversation you had with lexi yesterday.

“lexi told a couple of the gu-”

“ricky you need to untell them!” you whisper yelled turning around completely in your seat. “i am not having a party!”

his hands shot up in defense quickly, “okay okay, i’ll tell logan to call off the calvery. you won’t be seeing us at your house on friday.” you smiled, thanking the teenage boy a million times, not wanting random people to show up at your house in two days. “oh, and before i forget y/n, you might want to tell lexi to stop telling people you’re having a party.”

in an instant your face was red, and you were sure there was steam coming from your ears. “i’m going to kill her,” you muttered while quickly copying down the rest of your notes, ricky’s laughter filling your ears. you turned around and shot him a glare shutting him up right up. “yeah that’s what i thought ricky,” you scoffed while slumping down in your desk.

“if it makes you feel any better y/n, i don’t think many people were planning on going, they didn’t believe you’d actually throw a party.”

“thanks ricky, but that doesn’t help the fact lexi’s telling people that i’m having a party,” before you could add on the bell was going off and your were shoving your things in your backpack. “now if you excuse me, i have to go murder somebody.” the boy shot you a thumbs up as you raced out of the classroom and down the hallways to your locker, where you knew she’d be waiting for you. “lexi, i’m going to kill you.”

right away her face dropped, and the color drained from it completely. “why are you going to kill me y/n?” she asked, voice weavering as she did so.

“oh i think you know why,” you replied, arms crossing over your chest with a heated glare. when lexi just stared at you, you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, “you’re kidding me right?” she shook her head, still not completely understanding why you were so upset. “you told people i’m having a party on friday!”

her mouth formed and ‘o’ and her shoulders scrunched up right away, trying to defend herself in a way. “okay, i can explain,” she stated raising her hands. “i told people you were having a party. there isn’t much else for me to explain.”

right away you were shaking your head, hands rubbing your temples out of frustration. “i’m not having a party alexis,” you hissed walking around her to your next class.

“y/n i’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me. it’s not like i told the whole school,” she called, running to catch up with you. “y/n come on, please.”

you whipped around, rolling your eyes hard. “yeah, well lex you told the hockey team so that’s basically like telling the whole school. so thank you for that, don’t plan on coming over on friday anymore.” her mouth fell open as she stood there in the middle of the hallway.

“trouble in paradise?” at the sound of his voice you turned to look up at him, ryder dovovan who just happened to slide up next to you. “this would be what, the first friday since like freshman year that lexi hasn’t been at your house on a friday night.”

“so that’s what you do on your friday night ryds? stalk me from your bedroom window? that’s cute,” you teased while walking through the door, him quickly following behind you for the one class you shared together.

he shook his head right away to disagree with you, “course not. i just see her car in your driveway when i pull out of mine, that’s all.” you nodded your head, not believing his story one bit. “but anyways, i heard you’re having a party on friday, and i was like ‘you’re kidding me, not the y/n l/n that i know.’”

you sighed before sitting on you top of your desk. “i’m not having a party actually,” you started with a tight lipped smile, “lexi was just telling people that because she wants me too. just a couple of the girls are coming over. nothing big, i’m still the y/n l/n that you know and love.” the last sentence dusted ryder’s cheeks red, but you missed it.

“so that means i can’t come by and have a good time?” he asked with a cheeky smile.

“nope,” you answered popping the ‘p’ as you did. “you have to spend your friday night alone ryder, or find a different party to go to, because there will not be one at my house.”

“message received,” he answered slipping into his desk which happened to be right behind yours. “i will not be attending any party at y/n l/n’s house on friday night.” you nodded your head, before turning forward and getting ready for the lesson. “but if you were to throw a party, i know it would be the best, because one, you’re a perfectionist. and two, you have a pool.” it was whispered into your ear by ryder, as he leaned forward so just you could hear what he was saying.

you were quick to turn around in your seat, seeing as you had time as the teacher took attendance. “what is it with everyone and being obsessed with my pool? it’s really not that great, and you should know ryder. but no, that party would be far from perfect because i don’t know the first thing that happens at a party.”

ryder shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair, a lazy smirk sprawling across his face. “i guess that just means you’d need my help if you were to ever have one.” your eyes rolled at his worlds, allowing him to continue on. “and come on y/n/n we both know that your pool is the shit.” your teacher shot him a look, but it didn’t stop him from talking. “it would be a banger, and i really think you should throw it.”

“too bad ryds, there will be no parties at the l/n household ever. end of story.” ryder hummed, rolling his eyes as he did not believing a word you were saying. “don’t give me that look ryder, you know it’s the truth.”

“and i’m sure it is y/n, it’s just, you can’t be so sure,” he answered, “that’s all i’m trying to say.”

“yeah, i’m sure it is.”

his mouth opened to speak, but your teacher beat him to it, the class finally starting, and your conversation with ryder to end. it ending the party nonsense. allowing you the chance to actually breath, and not worry about people showing up, knowing that both ricky, lexi, and now ryder were going to make sure nobody showed up. it would just be a chill friday with your friday with your friends, and that was all you needed.

the knock on your front door caused you to jump. pulling your towel around your body tight you walked downstairs from your bathroom to unlock it for lexi, chloe, and katie. “hi guys, you can set the pizza on the island counter. i need to go put clothes on and i’ll be downstairs.” you didn’t bother hearing their answers, just rushing back upstairs to throw on a pair of joggers, sports bra and a baggy sweatshirt. once fully clothed you made your way back downstairs, mouth dropping at the sight. people were now filing into your house, people bringing different alcohols as they did. “alexis!” you screamed standing on your stairs as you watched ricky walk in with logan anderson following close behind him.

“what?” she yelled back, your eyes finding her in the crowd as she tried to set up the soundsystem. when she looked up at you, she could see the smoke coming from your ears, “oh shit.”

stomping your way down the stairs you shoved past people to get to the blond who was now frozen in her place. “oh shit is right you bitch!” you huffed, looking around the room not impressed with what was happening around you, and the fact people were still filing in through the door. “i told you no fucking party! so why the fuck are there people walking into my house right now lexi?” you yelled arms crossing over your chest, nobody paying any attention to you but to the alcohol that now filled your kitchen counters.

her mouth opened to speak, but before she could katie and chloe were standing in front of you both with two extra cups in their hands for the both of you. “you look like you could use a drink y/n/n,” chloe spoke while looking over the cups trying to pick which one you should have. “take this one, it’s vodka with lemonade.” the red cup was shoved into your hand, and you just stared down at it in disgust.

“i’m not drinking that,” you replied sticking the cup back out for her one of the three to have. “now get all of these fucking people out of my house!” you cried hands flying to your hair, ready to pull it all out. “i cannot have these people here, i am not having a party, and i am sure as hell not cleaning this all u-”

your protests were cut off by chloe pouring your drink into your mouth with the help of the two blonds. “see all you needed was a drink,” chloe smiled while you tried not to choke on the drink that was burning your throat. “you’ll thank us later,” she said making sure to wrap her arms around you.

“once we change your outfit you can thank us,” katie added. “because you cannot look like that at the party of the year.”

“well thanks,” you muttered with a distaste in your mouth. “i happen to like my outfit.”

lexi shook her head, “yeah well the boys won’t so let’s go get you changed.” before you could protest you were being dragged up to your room by lexi and chloe, katie in charge of the cups, and running back to grab a bottle already knowing you were going to be pissy.

“i don’t want to do this,” you grumbled as they sat you down on your bed. you watched as the two rushed into your closet, katie sitting down next to you. your e/c eyes glanced down to the large blue bottle in her hands before reaching over for it, her brown eyes widening as you did. “don’t give me that look kates, we both know i’m not getting through this night without drinking. so hand it over.”

without protest she handed you the bottle watching in awe as you threw the bottle back without even flinching. “so you’re okay with having a party and drinking now?” katie asked looking away from you to see if your friends had clothes, but then back to you.

“no i’m absolutley fucking pissed katie,” you explained before taking another large drink. “but i can’t do anything about it now, so i’m gonna get fucking wasted.” her mouth dropped open as stared at you with wide eyes. “yeah i know i’m pretty shocked too, but there’s nothing else i can do. plus the vodka tasted good, even if chlo forced it down my throat.” katie cringed at the little forcefulness of your friend but knew there was no other way.

right as she was about to speak lexi and chloe walked out of your closest, your new outfit in hand. “put these on first,” chloe spoke throwing the lace thong at you. your eyes went wide, and your cheeks heated up. “oh and this to go with it.” a matching bralet was thrown in your direction.

“i hate you guys,” you huffed, grabbing your bottle as you walked into your closest to change. taking a sip of the clear alcohol you stripped out of your clothes, stumbling as you did feeling a little buzz. you pulled the lace on over your body, then followed by the black jean skirt, one that was made to show off your ass. the final touch was the tight fitted sheer long sleeve shirt you forgot you had from a concert last year. you stared at yourself in the full length mirror and couldn’t believe you were looking back at yourself.

“are you almost done y/n/n?” lexi asked, allowing you to hear the slur in her voice. “we wanna see!” with that you walked out of your closest, all of them gasping as you did. “holy fuck y/n/n you’re hot!”

“fucking sexy!”

“i didn’t know you were hiding a body under those sweatshirts and joggers.”

your eyes rolled at your friends compliments as you walked over to your shoes, pulling on your all black high top converse. “well thanks guys, means a lot,” you said sarcasm lacing your words. “now i have a party i’m supposed to be hosting.” with that you left the rest of them in your room, finishing up your bottle as you went. as you walked out to the stairs your eyes scanned the living room, which was now full of dancing drunk teenagers.

your eyes then looked to the door and you saw ryder standing there with a smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. “i thought you weren’t having a party?” he yelled to you as you slowly walked down the stairs, not trusting your coordination since this was your first time drinking.

“yeah so did i, but here we are ryds,” you answered with a sassy smile, “can i get you something to drink? because i need another one.” ryder nodded his head, allowing you to lead him through the sea of people into the crowded kitchen. you grabbed his hand as a way of making sure you didn’t lose him in the crowd. “so what do you want?” you then asked leaning up against the island, watching as his eyes looked around the counter.

“if you weren’t planning on having a party, where’d you get all of this y/n?” ryder asked, shock taking over his tone of voice. you shrugged your shoulders, not really knowing where all of the alcohol came from, but that didn’t stop you from making yourself a new drink. “i take it that lexi didn’t tell people not to come?”

you nodded before taking a sip of your vodka, knowing you shouldn’t switch from light colored drinks to dark. “no she didn’t ryds, did you?” his eyes looked down to his cup full of captain morgan as he nodded his head. “wait, you actually told people that i wasn’t having a party?”

“yeah i told people to not come,” he informed with a boyish smile. “but then i got a text from logan that he was on his way to your house, and i looked out my window and cars were just flooding your driveway and the street. so then i decided i would come check it out for myself.” you nodded your head before taking another drink to try and clear some of the awkwardness between the two of you.

right as ryder was about to speak katie came rushing over to you with a cheeky smile, “y/n you need to come dance! now come on!” with that you were being dragged away from ryder , your drink slashing against the sides of your cup. “i hope you know how to get down y/n/n!” katie yelled over the sound of the music before throwing you into the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

“oh yeah kates? watch and learn,” you giggled before climbing up on top of your parents coffee table. as soon as beyonce’s voice filled your living room everyone went crazy, yourself included. your hips moved along to the sound of the music, a growing smile on your face. you reached down with your free hand, pulling your girls up with you. in a drunken state it wasn’t long until the four of you were grinding up against each other, laughing as you did. “why haven’t you guys taken me to parties before?” you asked over the sound of the music, taking a drink as you waite for their answer. “this is a fucking blast!”

the three of them all started laughing, causing you to join in with them. chloe sobered up first, her hand reaching to hold on to your bicep, “y/n/n, we’ve offered. you always say no.”

“she won’t be saying no anymore, will you?” lexi asked with a smirk of her own.

“i don’t know it depends,” you answered into your cup so none of them could hear you speak.

you were about to give them an answer, only someone else beat you to it. “mind if cut in?” of course it was ryder. if you couldn’t tell by his voice, you were able to tell by the looks on your friend’s faces. one by one each of them hopped off the table shooting ryder a smile as they did.

“she’s all yours dono,” katie slurred while patting his chest.

“careful, she’ll step on your feet,” chloe added, your eyes rolling as she did.

“ryder doesn’t need to worry about any of that,” lexi explained with a wicked smirk, if you were sober you would’ve known what that smirk meant, but when you were halfway to wasted you didn’t. “not when she’s going to give him something a lot more exciting.” your eyes locked with her green ones, your eyebrows scrunching up confused with what she was talking about, but when it hit you, you were choking on your drink.

“lexi!” you hissed reaching down to smack her, only you fell forward allowing ryder the chance to help keep you from falling off the table completely. you met his brown eyes, watching as he smiled with them, but then you realized you were supposed to be hitting one of your best friends so you looked away from the boy in front of you. when you looked up the other three were gone leaving you with ryder once again.

he cleared his throat, allowing you to smell the alcohol on his breath, “i think i was promised a dance.” you smiled before nodding your head, pulling him step up on to the table. your drink was in your hand still, as you felt ryder’s arms wrap around your waist. his one hand grabbing on to your hip, the other holding on to this cup which was now only half full.

just as the next song was about to start, it cut out and your eyes looked over to the speakers someone had either brought or found in your house. stand there was lexi, chloe, and katie with smiles. chloe was holding a microphone a smile on her face, “this next song goes out to our girl y/n!” in an instant all eyes were now looking up at you and ryder on the table, all of the girls in the parties mouths dropping. “we love you!” the all said into the microphone.

get low soon started playing, everyone cheering and grabbing the closest person next to them. turning your head you shot ryder a smirk over your shoulder. “i hope you can keep up ryds,” you teased as you started to move your hips against his. his hand squeezed your hip cause you to squeal which wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

“don’t worry y/n/n, i can keep up just fine,” he smirked, his hips falling into rhythm with yours. you threw your head back to rest on his shoulder as a large smile took hold of your face, one you didn’t think would ever go away. a grin took hold of your face as an idea came into mind. without another thought you were slowly working your way down his body, his hand trailing up yours as you went down. ryder’s brown eyes followed you down, watching as you squatted down. your smirked up at him as you spun around came back up so you were facing him.

his mouth was hanging open as you wrapped your arms around his neck, not caring if your drink fell out of your cup at this point. “i told you to keep up,” you whispered into his ear as he wrapped his one arm back around you, the other raising to take a sip of his own drink.

“and i am,” he answered before spinning you around once more, your hips starting right from where they left off. you making sure to press back against him a little harder than you were before. “i can’t help it that i’m a little bit shocked you know how to grind y/n/n, you’ve never been to parties, never been to a school dance where kids grind. i’m shocked that’s all.”

you hummed before slowly your actions down, wanting to drag it out a little longer as the song was coming to an end. “it’s not like you need to go to class and learn ryder, it’s moving your hips,” you slurred, looking back at him with a smile. “and who’s to say i’m enjoying this?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

ryder let out a laugh, not believing what you were saying at all. “i think you’re more than enjoying this y/n/n, i know i am.” your cheeks turned red at his words. “but i need another drink, and a breath of fresh air, wanna go to the backyard?” you looked down at your own cup, noticing how close it was to empty you agreed. “what are you drinking y/n/n, i’ll make it,” ryder offered with a smile.

“straight vodka,” you answered sliding on to the barstool. you watched as he topped your cup off before refilling his completely. “so the backyard?” you asked standing from your stool, your head going fuzzy from standing too fast. ryder’s hand found the small of your back helping you stay up right without the pounding in your head. “thanks,” you smiled before leading him out to the sliding glass door that lead to your patio.

you were surprised to find that not anybody was in the pool, and made a not of it as you lead ryder to the deep end. glancing back at him you noticed how he was looking at everyone around you not even realizing that you had stopped walking. taking a deep breath you took a long drink from your cup before setting it down next to you. in an instant you were pulling the tight fitted shirt from your body, leaving you in the bra and jean skirt lexi and chloe has forced on you. “y/n, what are you doing?” ryder asked watching you through the dark as your hands went to the buttons in your skirt.

“living a little ryds, everyone’s said this party would be a banger since the pool but nobody’s touched it,” you slurred, kicking your unlaced converse off. “so i guess i’ll start the trend.” his eyes went wide as he heard what he figure was your skirt dropping to the ground. “y/n, you’re not skinny dipping,” somehow even with alcohol running through his veins he was managing to think straight.

“oh yeah?” you challenged taking a step closer to him. you placed your hands on his chest with a smirk, “watch me.” in a flash your bra and thong were gone, and you were jumping into the pool. there was no way you’d be doing this if you were in the right state of mind, but you were wasted. so here you were swimming in your dark pool watching as other people followed your lead.

you could hear ryder sigh, before he followed you in. “happy now?” he asked swimming up next to you.

“very,” you whispered, throwing your arms around his neck. something all the girls at your party dreamed of, but here you were stealing their moment since ryder hadn’t left your side since he watched you walk down the stairs in a new outfit, his jaw completely dropping.

“you know i’m impressed,” he replied, arms wrapping around your waist pulling your bare body closer to his. “i thought there wasn’t going to be any parties at the l/n household.” your eyes rolled as he laughed at your words from wednesday. when his laughter died the both of you fell silent. ryder’s brown eyes glancing down to your lips, you doing the same with his. without wasting another second you were pulling his head down so his lips could meet yours. your mind went fuzzy, and it wasn’t from the vodka you had been slamming all night, but from the fact he was kissing you.

ryder donovan was kissing you in your pool, and was this close to you. your eyes shot open as your buzzed brain finally came too, realizing your we’re kissing him naked in your pool. pulling away you looked up at him with red cheeks. “ryder, we’re naked right now!” you squealed not fully back to yourself.

“yeah, you were the one to start that babe.” your cheeks flushed as you pulled away from him. “where are you going y/n/n? we don’t have any towels.”

“fuck.” you turned around to look at him with wide eyes. “how are we supposed to get out if we don’t have towels ryder?” you then asked arms crossing over your chest, worried someone would turn the backyard light on.

he just shook his head as he swam closer to you, “maybe you should’ve thought this through y/n/n. this was all of your idea remember.” before you answered you just stared at him, trying to think about what ran through your head, and came up with nothing. “you don’t remember, do you?” ryder laughed, his arms caging you in against the side of your pool.

“no,” you sheepishly whispered, your eyes slowly looking up to meet his. “is that bad?”

ryder shook his head, his wet hair landing on his forehead. “not at all love,” that word alone had your stomach doing flips, “it just means we should probably cut back on the vodka, okay?” you nodded as answer, arms wrapping back around his neck. ryder cocked an eyebrow as he smirked down at you, “what do you think your doing y/n?”

“making a good use of my time,” you answered, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. your mind went fuzzy again, and the thought of you both being without clothes didn’t cross your mind anymore. how could it when you were too lost in the feeling of ryder’s smooth lips against yours? it wasn’t long until your hands were running through his chlorine filled hair, tugging on it slowly as you went.

ryder’s hands found your hips, squeezing them once he found your bare skin. he pulled away from you first, his lips landing on your jaw before working up to your ear. you couldn’t help but giggle as you felt him smile against your wet skin. “you do realize we’re naked right?” he asked just in an effort to tease you.

you nodded as you pulled his hair to have him look back at your face. “how are we supposed to get out and dry off?” you asked, one hand now running down his toned chest the other still playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “how is anyone here supposed to get out and dry off ryds?”

he laughed before pressing another kiss to your lips, “that’s not my problem babe.” his lips then landed on the side of your neck once more, a drunk smile growing on your face as he kissed against your skin. from across the pool you could hear logan and ricky yelling at the two of you to get a room, but at this point you weren’t worried about what they thought. you were too far gone to care about anything other than ryder being this close to you, with his lips on your neck.

“oh my fucking god.” your eyes went wide and you pushed ryder off of you to turn and face chloe. “i came out here to bring you guys towel, i wasn’t expecting this.” your cheeks heated up fast glancing down and realizing you were in fact naked. chloe hummed before throwing down on the lawn chairs next to your clothes, rolling her eyes. “first party and y/n’s already getting more than katie, lexi, or i ever have at a party.”

ryder’s hands squeezed your hips causing you to jump. “she’s also probably had more you guys have ever drank at a party before,” he pointed out causing you to turn around and your mouth to drop open. you slapped his chest, not impressed with his comment.

“that’s not fair,” you huffed crossing yours arms over your chest. chloe looked down at you with a pointed look, but not before a smirk worked it’s way on to her face. “okay fine, you guys are right. but at least i’m having fun,” you slurred while trying to roll your eyes. you sighed before pushing ryder’s hands off of you and walked over to push yourself up out of the pool, chloe grabbing one of the towels and handing it to you right away.

wrapping yourself in a towel you looked over to chloe with a smile, thanking her without saying it. “i’m going to get you guys another drink so you’re come back in to dance!” chloe squealed with a huge smile. “this way you can dry off and change, oh and get ready because people are doing body shots in your kitchen.”

your e/c eyes went wide, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were slowly becoming more sober or because you wanted to join in. “body shots?” ryder asked from still inside the pool not wanting to get out until chloe had left. “i don’t think tha-”

“i want to do body shots!” you yelled causing everyone in your backyard to turn and look at you. you held your towel tighter to your body, paranoid that even though it was dark and it fell people would still see you naked. that was something you didn’t want to happen. as soon the people in your backyard broke out into cheers you fell out of your paranoia. “can i do body shots chlo?” you then asked not even bothering to look down at ryder who you assumed was disappointed with your decision.

she nodded her head really fast with a smile. “oh hell yeah you can girl!” she threw her hands on your shoulders, gently shaking your body. “you have the perfect partner to do them with too,” causing the both of you to look down to ryder whose arms were crossed over his chest. right away he was shaking his head. “he may not want to right now, but once we get another drink in him he will in no time. i mean you guys were just making out in your pool naked.” with that chloe walked back into your house, ryder jumping out of the pool and wrapping a towel around his waist.

“you really want to do body shots?” he asked raising an eyebrow in the process. when you nodded your head, he tilted his to the side not sure if he was understanding correctly. “y/n/n, babe, do you even know how to do a body shot?” ryder then questioned, his hands grabbing on to your bare shoulders.

“nope,” you sang with a cheeky smile, “but it sounds like fun! and i want to have fun.”

in an instant ryder was shaking his head at you. “okay fine, we can do body shots,” he answered with a slight smile, it was your turn to tilt your head to the side, not following a thing he was saying. he shook his head at you, “just put your clothes back on and you go watch the people that area already doing them.” you nodded your head slowly, turning away from him to find your clothes in the dark.

“ryder, i can’t find my clothes,” you whined slumping down on to the lawn chair. “i can’t get dressed without them,” you frowned looking over at him, eyes drawn to his back muscles you hadn’t paid any attention to until right now. you might have started drooling over it if it weren’t for him clearing his throat.

“i think these are yours,” after he spoke he held up your lace thong causing your cheeks to flush red, and when he walked them over to you, you could just barely see that his were too. he handed them to you before walking back over to his clothes, and carefully putting them back on. you did the same once your realized that your clothes were right at your feet. you were quick to pull on your thong and bralette, pulling the skirt and shirt back on with ease. “hey do you see my shoes?” ryder then asked coming to stand in front of you while you pulled your high tops back on.

“what shoes were you even wearing?” you answered looking down at his bare feet, then back up his body to meet his eyes. “because i don’t even know.”

his eyes looked around next to you, landing on a pair of white converse, “just kidding they’re right there.” he pulled them on with ease before offering your his hand, “are you sure you want to do this y/n/n? because you don’t have to.” you nodded your head right away, “okay then let’s go get another drink in you, i’m pretty sure chloe just walked out here.”

just like that your brunette friend was back, handing you and ryder new red solo cups. “everyone’s waiting for you guys inside, it’s your turn for shots!” she exclaimed before grabbing your free hand and dragging you through your backyard and into your kitchen. the island in your kitchen was a mess, but then against everything in your kitchen was a mess. “finish your drink, then get up on the island!” chloe squealed before walking back over to lexi and katie who were all ready to record this.

without wasting a second you threw your drink back in record time, everything standing around in your kitchen cheering as you did. “you ready for this?” ryder whispered into your ear sliding up right behind you.

“of course i am,” you boasted, “i’m ready for anything.” you walked away from the hockey player, allowing him time to finish up his drink while you hopped up on to the island. more cheers broke out in the small area, and you watched as ricky shot you a wink. ryder was soon standing right next to you, eyes looking over the counter and everything he needed to make this happen, he then looked back at you with a slight smirk. “what’s with that look ryds, you were the one who didn’t even want to do this,” you teased while nudging him with your knee.

“yeah well suddenly i want to,” he answered before giving you a once over. “you might want to take your shirt off for this love.”

“take my shirt off?” you asked nothing really processing in your head.

before ryder could even open his mouth to answer you, logan and ricky had started to chant, “take it off! take it off!” soon the entire kitchen, and probably everyone that was at the party was chanting take it off.

letting out a sigh your hands grabbed your shirt, pulling it up and over your body, everyone going crazy once again, mostly because they couldn’t believe you were actually doing this. “now lay back,” ryder instructed, his hands pushing your body flat against the marble counter. you tried lifting your head to see what he was doing, but he pushed your body down flat once again.

goosebumps filled your hot skin as you felt his tongue run against the exposed skin of your diagramph causing you to gasp at the feeling. you could feel him smirk against you, before he finished it off with a light kiss. lexi and katie were now standing by your head, already in the process of recording, watching his next move. chloe was handing ryder the salt, which he poured on to your body. “here’s the tequila,” the bottle was once again handed off to ryder. his brown eyes looked at the bottle, then met your eyes, then back to the bottle. a shiver ran up your up your spine as you felt the tequila fill your belly button, and the skin around it. “and the lime to finish it off, ryder the honors is yours.”

he took one step so he was now standing next to your head, “here you go babe.” he shot you a wink before walking to the end of the island were your legs were hanging off from. he was quick to stand between them, ready to start his shot since everyone was cheering for him too. he leaned over, drinking all of the tequila from your naval, and the skin around it before lifting himself up on to the island, now hovering over your body as he made quick work of the salt that lined your skin.

finally he climbed his entire way up to your mouth, biting the lime to finish it off. he sat up straight so he was now straddling your waist as he sucked out all of the lime juice as everyone went nuts around the two of you. you could tell from the look in his eyes he wasn’t quite done yet, and right as you went to rest on your elbows he was pushing down once more. he spit the lime out before his lips landed on yours, causing gasps to fill your ears. only to you were too focused on how he now tasted of tequila and lime to care.

your hands flew to his hair, pulling on it so he’d look at you and your heated make-out session didn’t become anything more than that. his lips rest on the shell of your ear, allowing you to hear just how out of breath he was. “i think it’s time you and me disappear love.” the corners of your lips pulled up at his words.

“yeah?”

ryder hummed before he sat back up so he was straddling your waist again, “yeah.” with that he swung his legs over the side of you and hopped off the island, waiting for you to do the same. you eyed your shirt in your hand, causing ryder to grab your wrist that was holding it, “i wouldn’t even bother putting that back on love. i’m just gonna take it right back off anyways.”

your cheeks flushed again as you hopped down from the island, immediately burying your face into ryder’s chest so people couldn’t see how bad he had just made you blush. he then began leading you out of your kitchen, receiving pats on the back from guys on the team, and anyone he passed by. as soon as the two of you were out of the crowds and on the stairs his lips landed on yours, making sure to push you up against the wall. “you know i’ve been waiting for this all night?” you asked, arms draping over his shoulders.

his eyes went wide with shock, surprised to hear you say that. “wait, actually y/n/n?”

“mhm,” you hummed with a smirk of your own. “promise to show me a good time?”

“for you y/n/n, always.”

groaning you slowly sat up in your bed, the pounding in your head only getting worse. you were barely sitting up for ten seconds before the door was pushed open, lexi peeking her head inside with a wide smirk, “i fucking knew it.” you were quick to shoot her a glare, then looked to where her eyes were staring. which just so happened to be your bare shoulders. with wide eyes you held the comforter closer to your chest. “anyways, i just wanted to say you threw a fucking amazing party like i said you would. and it was definitely the best of the year. see you on monday y/n/n. i’ll leave you to your new man.”

before you could even get a word out she was already gone, slamming the door behind her. you let out a whimper as the pounding in your head started to worsen from the noise. leaning over your bed, you grabbed a sweatshirt that was laying there and pulled it over your naked chest, and god were you just in time. within seconds of you pulling the sweatshirt on your door was being opened once more, only this time your parents were standing in the door looking around the mess you made when you and ryder stumbled your way into it. “oh my god y/n what happened to your room?” your mother asked unimpressed with the fact your pictures were croaked.

that may or may not have been from ryder pushing you against the wall. “uh, i’m not sure,” you answered trying to keep your answers short so you didn’t cause the pain in your head to worsen. “what are yo-”

“did you have a party?” your dad then asked causing you to look at him. your eyes went wide was you slowly nodded your head praying that the rest of your house wasn’t trashed. you had no idea what your living room, kitchen, and backyard looked like. you never went back down once you guys went upstairs. “oh my god, is that a hickey?” your dad then asked causing you to look down on your neck and sure enough it was. if your neck was this bad, you couldn’t imagine what the inside of your thighs, and hips looked like.

“i can’t believe this d/n, she actually had a party,” your mom said while shaking her head. “i don’t know if i should be impressed or upset with her.” only your dad just shook his head meaning your mother had said the wrong thing.

your father sighed as he grabbed the bridge of his nose. “you know, nobody else throws parties on this road,” he stated trying to guilt trip you. “why would you of all people have a party?” he then asked trying to understand what had happened to his perfect little girl.

“well, i uh, i wasn’t going to have a party,” you mumbled trying to think of the words to say. “people just kinda showed up, and i didn’t know how to get rid of them.”

your mother shook her head, while your father stood there trying to piece together what you had given him for information, which was nothing. “i bet ryder donovan didn’t come,” she then spoke and you had to stop yourself from burst out into laughter for two reasons. the first being that ryder wouldn’t be at a party, and the second being you had sex with him. “he never has, or goes to parties,” she then added, which just happened to be a total lie. “why can’t you be more like him y/n, he’s such a good kid.”

your dad nodded his head to agree with your mom, “oh ryder donovan from next door? he’s the best.” you rolled your eyes arms crossing over your chest, not wanting to hear a lecture on how ryder was the best when you for a fact he was just as shitfaced as you were. “you’re mother’s right sweetheart, why can’t you be more like ryder?”

your mouth dropped open, not believing what your parents were saying. “come on guys, i never do anything wrong, and you’re not really making my headache any better. can’t we talk about this later or something?” their mouths then dropped open at your confession of drinking, but at this point you didn’t care. shaking their heads the walked out of your room, the door closing behind them.

groaning you ran your hands back over your face, right as ryder sat straight up in bed next to you, holding the comforter to his chest. “you don’t think they know i’m here, do you?”

#ryder donovan #ryder donovan x reader #Duluth east high grayhounds #wisconsin badgers #ryder #donovan #my works #fratboyvivmatthews masterlist #las vegas golden knights #golden knights

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thewestmeetingroom · 3 years

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The West Meeting Room - You Can’t Fill From An Empty Cup

Broadcast Oct 5, 2019

SPEAKERS

Mica, Tony, Sabahat, Sabrina, Rebekah, Savy, Aqeel

Mica: Hello and welcome to The West Meeting Room, a new weekly show from Hart House student podcasting team. Today we are broadcasting live from the CiUT Maproom Studios in Hart House and we are grateful to live, work and study on Dish with One Spoon Territory. I'm Mica, and I'll be your host for today's episode. Today's episode features a conversation hosted by Hart House student podcasters Sabrina, Tony, and Sabahat. They were joined by U of T students Savy, Aqeel, and Rebekah who share their thoughts on failure, productivity and what it feels like to be a non-traditional student.

Tony: Amazing. Thank you so much everyone. And so I guess to get started, we were just talking about crying, and how healing that is. And so kind of in a similar nature, we're going to start off by talking about things that we want to start talking more about, is failure and how to normalize that experience because it's such a normal part of learning and growing as human beings. And so we'll start it off, like we'll just share, like something that we failed at and in a way that we're celebrating. So I guess you can think of it as kind of like an introductory rapid fire round. And with that, who would like to start?

Rebekah: I'll go next. Okay, so I, I was taking the introductory courses for International Relations, because I thought that that was something that I really wanted to do. That's kind of the reason why I came to U of T too, because I was like, Oh, I want to study IR. And then was taking the Econ courses and I realized this isn't really for me. I don't care enough about it to actually study it, to seek help when I was actually struggling in it. And so when at the end of the first year, and I was looking at my grades, and I was looking at how I felt about my courses, and I decided, I was like, Look, I don't even care enough about econ. There's no point in like forcing myself to keep doing something I don't actually want to do. So I kind of rerouted myself and did History and Russian, which is something I was actually passionate about. So yeah, I don't know. I feel like it worked out and like it was a much more niche department. So I feel like I know a lot more people in my department now and it feels like more like home rather than doing something I definitely did not care about.

Tony: Thanks for sharing that Rebekah. And I think it's nice to know that sometimes you have to just figure things out as you go and to really find the things that are meaningful and that you're passionate about. And I like that you talk about sense of home. That's really nice.

Savy: Yeah, I know. I'm like very hard on myself. Even when other people are telling you Oh, you know, you did a great job. It wasn't really a failure, but maybe we kind of it like blows up in our mind and we tend to ruminate over little things. That's what I do at least. I like ruminate over something a little and think it was maybe bigger than it was. Yeah, and label it as a failure when maybe other people wouldn't say it was a failure.

Aqeel: I can actually relate to that a lot. Um, I guess my instance of failure is a bit more like every day. And this, usually like when I'm like going through my to do list for things to do, like school related or just personal tasks, usually I find myself like, I've been making it a point to make more realistic task lists. But even when I haven't been able to meet all those tasks, you know, I just feel like that I am a failure and that I haven't really been able to like, live up to the standard that I sort of create for myself. But something I didn't really realize and something that I'm like coming to terms with now is that oftentimes when I do take my time to do certain things or focus a bit more on - do things a bit more purposefully, or even when I actually don't end up doing things that I intended to do, or things that I've written down. What I've realized is that maybe I actually needed the rest that I took between the time that I was doing tasks or things like that. And making the point to be like, yeah, you know, it's okay that I didn't really actually do all those things. You know, my productivity doesn't have an impact on my self worth. It’s something that's really hard to do, especially when everything seems to be either monetized or weighting grades, things like that. So it's really difficult, but I relate to that a lot. Because I think, you know, that everyday sense of failure can sort of accumulate and then at some point, you just realize that you haven't done X amount of things and then you look back and it's like, what do I do with my time? And it's really easy to catastrophize for sure.

Sabrina: I think that's a really big thing, especially that point of like, grades or monetization. Kind of like these values that are quantifying what we're doing and a big one that it's very hard to kind of put a value next to, but it's very important is health, both mentally and physically. As someone who tends to, you know, go, go go and then I realized I haven't eaten at all at until it's like five o'clock. That's not something that you can put a price on until maybe it's too late. Or until you run yourself so thin that you're like falling asleep in class or like you slept through an exam or you're so hungry, you can't concentrate. And productivity isn't the most important metric. But if that's what you're measuring your success on, then running yourself on empty is counterproductive, you know. Because then something important is going to come up and you're not going to be useful or able to come to task at all. So it's really important to remember kind of those other things that you might not readily assess the value to so then you don't necessarily think that it's important or Oh, it can wait later, I can sleep less or I can eat later on, or I don't need water right now. Those are things that catch up to you. And when your body says it's done, it's done. And that's just something really important to remember I think.

Aqeel: You can’t fill from an empty cup.

Sabahat: So this is actually just last week, so we do recording sessions usually every Thursday and last week like I had a meeting in the morning where we were just learning editing and stuff and then so like you said, like running out of energy, just like working, working, working. Forgetting to eat and stuff. I think it got to a point where when it came time for the recording session, I did not have the energy to come and so I was like, I can't make it. And I didn’t come and I still regret it. Like I feel like this is, I really enjoy this space. I find comfort in the space with these people. But I couldn't get myself to do it and I just see it as a failure. But I also think, which is usually something that happens with failure is that in hindsight, like when time passes by, you tend to realize that maybe that was important.

Tony: Yeah, thank you for sharing that. I think a lot of things that we're touching on is this idea that like, you know, you don't need to be “productive” all the time. Like the human body, it's like we have limited capacities and it's just something I've been reflecting a lot on because doing like a full time practicum where it's like an expectation to do like 35 hours a week and I was like, Oh my god, the body is not meant to work the full 35 hours, like it's just not.

Savy: The struggle of practicum is real.

Tony: I’ve thought a lot about how like, Aqeel, like you were saying, unproductivity is actually in itself, like very productive. You know, like, similar to what Sabrina was saying. Like, you need to like rest up and like, allow your body to not be under constant like stress. And yet there's like all these societal messages or like, structures that remind us that, you know, we have to be productive in order to like be seen as valuable. And yet – so it's really interesting about how like being “unproductive” as a way to, like you know, of taking care of ourselves is actually a really, can be a really radical way of responding to those kinds of messages, right? Like it's very like, No. I'm going to choose to like take care of myself and not stretch myself until I burn out. So yeah, I think that's like a really important point to bring up. And so thank you for, all of you, for sharing those thoughts. And I think a natural transition could be that we can go into a question that Rebekah highlighted earlier and which we can talk about. When was a time you felt you didn't fit the traditional mold or the idea of the student path/student success because I think it kind of touched on some of the things that we talked about during that rapid round. How are folks feeling about that?

Sabrina: I think, we're talking about when you don't feel like you're fitting the traditional mokld? So I think for me -

Tony: Sabrina, can you also maybe talk about what is a traditional mold? I mean, maybe that's something that we can talk about too, like what is the traditional mold of a student?

Sabrina: Um, as someone who has worked as a tour guide, in the recruitment center, and I tour for upcoming students, I can give you kind of like a “Wikipedia” definition of what a nontraditional student is. And from there, we can kind of extrapolate, you know, a traditional student and a non traditional student for a post secondary institutional standpoint is someone who didn't go to post secondary right after high school. Someone who may have a family, someone who may work full time and just goes to school part time. Yeah, someone who may be married, someone who may be over 21 or over 25. You know, if you think of an older student or an adult student, those are kind of when we say the words nontraditional students, that's kind of what it embodies. And traditional student usually embodies 17 through 19, coming to post secondary, you know, two months after graduating. This includes students who also take a gap year after graduating, coming in starting in first year, and going through their degree kind of that way. And a traditional student as well, which is a big pressure for a lot of people, is a student who graduates in four years. And I'm going to do a little pause, and then I'm going to go into my story and then we can maybe come back to both defining and going into our stories. But my kind of segue is I think for me, feeling like I didn’t fit into the mold started when I realized that I might need to take a fifth year and when I might have to take you know, four and a half years. I came in thinking that I wanted to study French, Spanish, and then Philosophy. But really I wanted to get into like a type three restricted program. Didn't get the marks to get into the type three restricted program. So I was stuck with Philosophy, French and Spanish. Failed second year Spanish because I really never learned how to study. So then I was stuck with Philosophy and French. So now I'm trying to figure out you know, do I want to do a double major? Do I want to do two minors and a major? And what would my new minor be? And in adding this new degree kind of in my third year, realizing that I have to take another year and I kind of came into school thinking, you know, I'm only going to take my four years, I'm going to work through summer and then going to go to graduate school and I'm going to take the bar exam and that you know, like all these prescribed ideas, and that's not happening. And it felt weird for a while kind of thinking like I might have to take a fifth year especially because it's some family pressures there that are kind of like you're going to graduate in two years, and you're gonna apply to law school, and this is what you're going to do. And it's like, yeah, that's what I said I was going to do when I was 16. But I'm 20 now, and maybe I want to do something different. And it's kind of feeling comfortable with that. And feeling as though this is another journey that's just as valid as the journey that I set myself on two years ago. And that I'm growing and evolving. And not as though I'm settling because I put myself on a path of failure because I didn't try hard enough two years ago or I was too lazy, you know. So that's kind of my two part to that answer. The definition from my experience of a traditional versus nontraditional student and where I felt nontraditional.

Tony: Yeah, thank you for sharing that Sabrina. And I think it's, it's like helpful to start to think about what is considered a traditional or nontraditional student because I think it's also like - I like that you provided a very like objective sort of definition because it is important to think about that too, and the ways that we navigate academia. When I think about, like, the things that come to mind for me with this question is, I think a lot about how sometimes I'm like the, not even just like the only person of color in my class. Like, sometimes I'm the only, actually like a lot of times, I’m like the only queer person in my class and like, how it makes me feel sometimes. And it's weird, because it's not even just like, the physical presence of that too. It can also be like sometimes feeling like this pressure, like, Oh, so you're the only person that can talk about queerness and being racialized, and we expect you to, like talk about those experiences. And this is something that I realized I was like, Oh my god, how can this happen? But also, it also made me feel like - so for me like that traditional mold is feeling like I may not necessarily belong in those spaces, and there's like reminders of that. And that's what I think about like, Oh yeah, like I don't feel like a “traditional” student because the way that the structures were built didn’t have me in mind historically when they built them. Like we have done a lot of changes in terms of inclusivity, but I think it's important to be mindful that like, there's a lot of historical impacts that still lingers on today. And I think that's really important to acknowledge. And so yeah, that's like, I just kind of want to offer that sort of like other understanding of traditional students and feeling not like you might fit or for me like not feeling I fit in the mold either.

Rebekah: Yeah, I can really relate to that. Like I identify as a Black woman and especially studying in like the Slavic department, like, I've definitely experienced being like the only racialized person in a classroom and if not, being like the only queer woman of color in the classroom as well. So that's something that I'm always grappling with, especially like, when people question my ability to speak Russian or my ability to even learn Russian or ask me Oh, like why study Russia like you don't look like you would be the kind of person who would want to do that. But it's something I'm passionate about. It's something that I feel like I'm relatively good at. So that's kind of what I wanted to continue doing. But the other thing that I thought about in terms of not being a traditional student in terms of being a student here at U of T is that a lot of people like to call UofT U of Tears. Like something that's a place that's really stressful, really sad all the time. And I don't necessarily feel that all the time. Like there are definitely moments when like, towards the end of the semester when I am stressed, but during the course of the school year, and maybe it's just because of the program and my program that I'm in or the way I've chosen to build my schedule, but I don't like to be stressed and I'm going to take all of the ways and make my schedule around a way that doesn't make me feel stressed. So even though I've taken a lot of courses and I give myself a heavy course load, I like to give myself breaks during like the day to hang out with my friends or play sports, that kind of thing. I had a girl message me on Instagram. She's like, Wow, it looks like you're actually enjoying U of T. And I'm like, well, because I'm trying to. Like, I don't want to be sad here for however many years I am. Like, I want to enjoy my time here and make the most out of my experience here and make some really cool connections and meet some cool people. So if that means like, I don't know, even though I've lived off campus, like making more of an effort to be on campus, and like be involved in clubs or be involved with like, student life, then it makes me feel better. Like I don't want to be sad. So, and like, I know that there's some people who, like, genuinely have a hard time doing that. And maybe that's just my own personality. Like, I like to reach and grab those opportunities, but that's just something that's made me feel better. And I feel a little bit weird when people always tell me how stressed they are like, well, if I didn't get that paper done, it's not done. So I'm just gonna have to go to sleep now and because I would sleep over everything, so.

Sabahat: Yeah, so while we're talking about definitions and what's traditional, for me, I think when I came here, because I'm an international student, That's what kind of set me apart. And I think you don't realize it until you're in that space when most of the people are local people, like they're from here. And having an international kind of, even like small things like having a international passport like how difficult that makes it for you to get the visa. Like I was supposed to do, like I started a semester later to what I was supposed to actually initially start, because I had my visa got delayed. And it's just like these little things that you're struggling with. It's like, your energy goes into those things where other people don't really think about it. And so in a way you're kind of spending a lot of energy and doing the same kind of work like explicitly doing the same work that like let's say your class is doing, but you have all these pressures and then something like finances is also a issue because international and free is ridiculously high. And yeah, I mean, I'm lucky to be here. I'm privileged enough to be here, but not everyone can. And people who are on scholarships, like it's the whole bureaucracy and red tape of that is just ridiculous. I feel like someone in a one number position should not be expected to do all that by them by themselves, you know, they should be advisors or someone should like, walk them through the process. It should not be up to the student to figure that out. And that goes even for like someone struggling with mental health. You know, you're like, oh, if you want to leave, you have to go get this papers. I'm like, Yes, but if someone is struggling already, how do you expect to do that? You know, and so there's little things that you're expected to do with the whole process like bureaucracy form filling, which I feel like if most people are able to do it should not be expected of everyone. Because not everyone would have the energy or the capability to do that or just not be familiar with the process honestly. So yeah, I don't

Savy: I don’t know. I feel like I’ve had a traditional undergrad. Like I went straight from high school and I did undergrad in four years. And then I did my Masters and then I graduated from my Masters. So yeah, I had a very traditional journey. But I can definitely relate to just kind of feeling that pressure with stress and feeling like you need to kind of keep up. Like in undergrad, I would always maybe study too much and stay up too late and put self care a bit on the back burner. But it sounds like you are figuring it out like in your undergrad, which is great. Yeah, and then in my masters, had more focus on self care, which was really great and still kind of felt that pressure to study and kind of get perfect grades and I don't know, I just always felt that pressure. But I feel like it's the pressure that I put on myself and then also from peers and from professors. But just trying to focus more on self care and yoga and seeing friends and doing different activities on campus and trying to get more involved. I was part of the Black Public Health Student Collective at Dalla Lana which was great. And I was also, in my year, I was the only woman of color in my program at Dalla Lana. So like definitely feeling that as well. Like feeling kind of out of place but also having that safe space with everyone at Dalla Lana to share stories and meet new people.

Tony: Thanks for sharing.

Aqeel: So for the traditional student, for me. It’s a good question. I mean, I feel like we kind of touched on it already. But the idea that a student should always be stressed. What they do in their spare time is just like, shop online between lectures and just complain about like celebrity gossip and turn out papers, study for tests, do a hobby and like that's it. For me, I found it really difficult to attend classes and go to lectures. Because I felt that like, we could have been doing so much more with the authority that we do have in university. So for me, it just, it was really troublesome to have to just write about things when one, I was not only trying to like process stuff that I was directly involved in. So like, being the object of study while also trying to study is really difficult. Some people don't - sometimes academia is structured in a way that is meant to exclude people. And in that sense like, I find it really difficult to just be able to write down things and just like churn out essays and papers, when we could have been, for example, organizing or things like that. I feel like for academia, there's only so much you can do to sort of like process things, write things, sort of like bat ideas around and critique them when that's only really like half the battle. I think that knowledge is important, but it's only realized when you meet it with action. So being able to just solely focus on like doing these mental exercises of writing and like turning out papers and studying for tests and that grind, I find it really difficult. Like for me, I think it was really important to sort of like remind myself that I was not just a student at an institution, but just in general, a student of knowledge. And that knowledge extends beyond the institution. But also just kind of like beyond the classes that I'm doing into just trying to learn about the world like on my own terms. So in that sense, I felt like I sort of deviated from that traditional mold of a student where they were just sort of like okay with just passing through the sort of structures that are already in place when I feel like there's a lot more work that has to be done to make them more accommodating to people that would like to think outside of those structures.

Sabrina: I think your point on writing is really important too, because in the discussion of, you know, traditional versus nontraditional, the way that we are assessed, and the way that we learn, kind of creates a mold of a traditional student as well. Not everyone's writing is their strong suit. And sitting in a room listening to someone talk at you is not the best way to learn for everyone, or most people. And it's kind of unfortunate that it's not until third or fourth year that you get into a more intimate kind of relationship with your professors and with your peers to where it's more relational. I remember in first year I did a Ones program and the classes are a lot smaller and I went to those classes so much more than my larger lectures because I just had a higher relationship with my peers and with my professors, and they would ask me, you know, “why aren't you here?” if I didn't go to class. So it's like, oh, other people notice if I'm gone, you know. Whereas my lecture of 500, no one cares. I mean, I'd someone cares, but no one's chasing after me, you know. And it was nice to kind of walk into a class of 17 plus my professor after you not going for a week and have him pull me aside and say, “Hey, is something going on?” And I think that's another big thing, you're talking about to being the subject of a lecture while also learning about things in an institution that can acknowledge colonial pressures to kind of hide certain histories of racialized people or of queer people or what have you, and then prides itself on you know, uncovering these histories and we're going to learn about them and like all the things that happened to First Nations peoples or to Black people, or to gay people, or what have you. But then not realize that the narrative that you're proliferating also means that racialized students or queer students in your class, this might be the first time that they're hearing stories that relate to them on more than just a textbook level. And it might be, you know, they might be using this to realize, you know, this is why my mom acts like this or this is why someone acts like that, and it becomes a more real lesson. And then you have to sit there and write a 2500 word paper on like, you know, the Stonewall Riots or the Trail of Tears or whatever, and you're, like crying thinking of your grandmother. And there's, there's not a lot of support for that. And there's not a lot of room to, to kind of work through that because the institutions are made for people whose histories are told and who kind of have confronted and understand where they come from, and aren't necessarily ashamed of it. And also made for the people who wrote the history in the first place so it puts them in a good light. So I think those are really good insights.

Sabahat: Yeah, just continuing - like so speaking about being like, feeling out of place in classes, I think one thing that I would just like to mention is that as hard as it is, I feel like it's kind of a sign that you're probably thinking more and you're probably more like, I don't want to use the word smart, but you know, just like engaging more with the material than people who are just passive. Because, so I remember one of my undergrad professors saying to us that you know, in a class, if you're not uncomfortable, you're not learning. You know, and because with learning all these things about how structures work, how systems of oppressions work, where you're, you're making sense of, “Oh, my mom or my grandma was part of this oppression” and just like historically making sense of it, but it's so personal to you. And I feel like that discomfort should not - like it's unfortunate that it has to be there. But I also see value in that because if you are uncomfortable, you're unlearning things. You're learning how to navigate these systems, how these systems work, and I think you're more likely to think about it in a very contextualized way than someone who cannot relate to the history and is just there to kind of produce papers. So I feel like there's value in that.

Tony: I think sometimes when we think about academia, like it's, and we touched on it, how there's like definitely like this one way of doing things, one way of learning, one way of gaining and producing knowledge, without recognizing that there's so many ways. There's so many learning styles, but there's also so many knowledge that is produced outside of academia that is just as valuable, if not even more valuable, that we don't even have access to or it's often like cut off. And I think a lot about how I think sometimes even this pressure of feeling like you need to like learn knowledge in a certain way can be a very, and when you're not able to do it, it can feel like we're placing the onus on the individual. And yeah, I like that we talk a lot about like the different structures that are play, like the different systems. Because it's true, like I think those are very much - it informs the ways that we're able to like access knowledge and gain knowledge and share that knowledge. And while recognizing like the larger forces at play, we do talk a lot about personal agency. So like, how do we navigate these structures because structures don't change over time, unfortunately. And so, I was thinking for our next transition, we can do like a really quick, rapid fire round because, you know, I kind of heard some folks talk about, like, you know, self care. Like things that we do to, you know, help us be able to, you know, not just survive, but also thrive as well. Like things you do to like, take care of yourself, your body, your soul, your mind.

Rebekah: I play on my college’s intramural volleyball team. That's something. I was super passionate about volleyball all throughout middle and high school. I've played for like eight or nine years and when I'm not playing volleyball is like when I'm sad. Actually, when I'm playing volleyball I’m my best self, I'm feeling the best about myself. So yeah, we won our championship first semester like this past year. And that was like really, I felt really proud of that team because it was a new team and we had a lot of new players and the fact that we were able to like put in the work and like see actual results and like see people improve over the course of the season was really cool. And I think that was like, not super common in New Colleges’ intramural history or for volleyball at least. So that also felt really good to be a part of that team that made that happen. And it just gives me a break in between like studying all day to like, actually not be sitting at my computer and like actively doing something. So going to drop in volleyball at the ACA or the Goldring is like the highlight of my day because I get to leave the library and actually like run around and do stuff and sweat even though I hate sweating. But like, I don't know, like volleyball is where it's at. So I try to get as many people involved in intramural sports because I think it's a really good way to release tension and also meet a lot of new people. Like I feel more part of New College’s community for it.

Tony: That sounds really nice. And it makes you happy?

Rebekah: It makes me so happy. Like I'm the happiest.

Tony: And you deserve that. That's really lovely. Thanks for sharing.

Sabrina: Following the thread of athleticism, varsity cheerleading has been - I didn't do it in first year because my joints, and my wallet, and I was sad for it. And I wasn't as active. So that's kind of what keeps me going. It's kind of like that small class that I had in first year. Having a team of people and as a team sport, having a team of people that really rely on you. Things can't really go forward if someone's missing. It's nice when people check in on you when you're not around and it's nice to kind of work as a group towards a goal. Aside from that, I think just I've been foraying more into sustainability and kind of a zero waste lifestyle and a minimalist lifestyle and like Tarot and energies and things like that and kind of connecting with spirituality. And also connecting with the earth. I find a lot of the technological and industrial advances that we've had, that are slowly killing the earth, are also negatively affecting us like physiologically just as human beings. So in trying to give back to the earth and be nicer to it you know, and produce less waste, I've also been foraying into you know, cleaner eating and cleaner habits and doing less of things that are also self-destructive for me, either mentally, or to my eyes, or sitting too long, things like that. So that's been really nice, because I feel like I'm taking care of something else. Because it can be hard to take care of yourself. But indirectly, I'm taking care of myself.

Aqeel: I’m trying to like recall the things that I do. I guess for me, this is more seasonal, but I really like to garden. So I spend most of the year just waiting for gardening season. Just waiting for you know, it's not the best in Canada, but it's something that I do really enjoy. Like being able to connect with the earth but also literally seeing the fruits of your labor makes me really happy. In addition to that, like getting into fitness is something that was like really was really important for me. Just being able to go for walks between classes in a way sort of became fitness because fitness is not just going to the gym and lifting weights. It's just being able to take time to do things at your own pace and enjoy it. As long as it gets your heartbeat like up. I think that's something that's like more fitness oriented to something like that. Being close to my family I think was something that was really important to me. Like they really do ground me. In addition to that, this is more of like a spiritual practice, but I really do, because I'm Muslim, I do pray. And that's something that, you know, I find extremely healing and being able to actually connect with more people that do that on campus was something that was very gratifying. I never really actually grew up around people that make it a point to be like, “hey, I just, you know, gotta go to the side and pray” or something. So, it was nice to be able to like be affirmed that it's okay to be able to, you know, just take a few seconds and pray. It's hard to do that at school though. Because, you know, school isn't really built, for example, like being able to take breaks like that, but it is something that's like very, very healing for me.

Sabahat: Yeah, I feel that. I feel like - so I identify as Muslim as well. And I think praying is something that has become like a software thing. I should probably do it more often than I do it now. But I think religion holds a very important place in my life. And I think it gives me a lot of peace in times of chaos, which is literally every day. So something for survival, I think something that I've been, recently like I've learned to do, which was really hard, is that when you're at a very low point, it's really hard to reach out to people and ask for help but I have been, I've been able to do that lately. And I just, I'm just really proud of myself for doing that. But I think yeah, that's like a survival thing for me. And something that I took up like a month ago was I've always wanted to learn how to swim, but I never got the chance. So I enrolled in a class and now I have a class every week and it's amazing. That one hour is like, amazing. So yeah, just doing different things.

Sabrina: Can I resource sidebar? Do you all know about the fifth floor in Robarts? So there's a prayer and meditation room on the fifth floor. There's yoga mats, there's prayer mats, pillows, yoga blocks, it's super awesome, serene, if you can like make it up there.

Sabahat: Okay. Yeah. And there's also a multi-faith center in Koffler.

Tony: Amazing. Thank you for sharing all those lovely tips. Oh, okay, I guess I'll quickly share one. So one thing I've been doing is I've been going to a sexy dance class. So it's actually a particular, it's taught by a lovely instructor who identifies as queer trans, as a person of color. And it's like, a dance class that's meant for just queer trans people of color and it feels so nice. Like, I know just to have a space where other people share your, like, identities and lived experiences. And also for me, like find your sexy is like, you know, when we're dancing and, you know, yes, it's about feeling sexy, but it's also feeling more at home in your body, which is something that I've been thinking a lot about, and the ways that I need to feel at home is like being able to reclaim you know, parts of me that you know, that I've been taught to feel ashamed of. And actually now it's like nice to celebrate those parts where I'm like, yeah, I'm gonna celebrate my femmeness, my queerness and like reclaiming that has been really healing for me. And to do that, and just share that story with other people who, you know, yes like, we are different in a lot of ways, but we're also like, you know, we do share a lot of like similar experiences and we're able to like kind of grow and heal together and like celebrate each other. And I think that's pretty rad. So yeah. Braeden did you want to share something? It looks like you do. We would love to hear you.

Braeden: I was just curious. I have been thinking because, you know, you've talked a lot about dance as a place of healing and returning to your body. And I've been thinking about that a lot, because I feel, I feel pretty disembodied at times. So I wondered if you would have a piece of advice for someone like me to like - like what's a place to start to sort of like get to know my body again?

Tony: Oh, my god, that's such an amazing question. I think giving yourself time to figure things out. Because I know for me, I didn't start dancing till like three years ago, but it was always something that I was really interested in doing. And part of it is like cultivating that self love. And that looks so different for everybody. And I think for me, it was like intentionally taking the time to spend it with myself. And whether that's like, kind of really like, really looking at, okay, what are the needs that I have? And those can change. I think in a lot of ways when we do self reflections, they definitely can fluctuate and change over time. And that's absolutely okay. Because I think there's something really meaningful about reflecting on how what you thought you needed or who you are a year ago can change so much today. And like, I think there's like some really meaningful insights that can be gained from that. I think for me, I just found dancing to be something that was such a powerful outlet for me because it was something that yeah like, I think a lot of complexities around feeling like my body wasn't quite my own. And a lot of that was like, I've internalized a lot of things growing up, and then me like being able to express those frustrations. Because I think part of reclaiming your body, it's like not, it's not like this - definitely, it is a beautiful journey - but there's also a lot of moments that don't feel beautiful. And I think it's important to take, like, hold space for that. I think that was really important for me, was to be really honest about the ways that I haven't felt like - what are the reasons that made me feel like I needed to reclaim my body. And that can be really hard. And I think it's important and like that's not something you have to do on your own. I think part of it for me, I've been really lucky to have found a community, friends who kind of like helped me along the road to do more of that healing work. And so this is a great segue into our next question. So thank you Braeden, because I know we just talked about self care. And something that we also want to focus on is not just about things that we can do for ourselves, but also ways that we can practice community care. So going beyond just the self because it can feel like a lot of pressure to feel like you have to take care of yourself all the time. What are ways that we can reach out to our communities, and why is this important? And that's the hard question because it's like, what does community care look like?

Sabahat: I think for me, I think it's important. I see it as important because when you are dealing with it yourself in isolation, I mean, it could very well work for you. But I think there's a different kind of comfort to be in a support group and to hear people talk about their experiences, right. And it's literally what we're doing right now. So I think community care for me is sharing experiences, being there for each other. And being there, again, does not mean that you have to provide advice, or you have to provide a solution. Being there can literally look like you're sitting with them, listening to them, what they have to say, and sometimes, honestly, just asking what they want. Because people generally know what they want, they just don't know how to ask. And so that's what community care looks like. To have a system where if you're feeling isolated, you know, you can go to this particular group and just talk about it. And yeah, have like regular meetups basically, so that you don't go to that place of isolation.

Rebekah: You kind of like mentioned before in our conversation about being like a social person. And like being in isolation can be really hard. And I feel that totally. And I find that happens a lot during the school year, especially when you're like trying to crank out papers or you're trying to do readings. And a lot of the times I would end up doing it by myself, but then I would spend so many hours by myself during the day either just like looking at my computer or with I don't know, books and stuff like that, that I felt like I wasn't, I wasn't getting enough out of my day. Like I would just go home and spend an entire day not talking to anyone, because I'm just reading all day or writing all day. And so I made a point to reach out to my friends, especially during the school year, because a lot of them had mentioned to me that they felt the same way. Like I spent a lot of time in the library just by myself. And it's like, well, if we're both studying we might as well study together. Like why do this in isolation. And even if you have to take breaks and it might take a little bit longer to get that reading done. You feel less alone doing that or less alone doing that work. So yeah, I try to reach out to my friends more during the school year, especially during like times of stress, like peak stress during midterms season and stuff like that, just to make sure that “hey, I know you're probably going through this too and I'm going through this, let's go through this together.” So we're not alone in doing this because that doesn't feel good.

Aqeel: I think what's really interesting about how we navigate University is this idea that the “real world” sort of exists. There's school and then there's like, you go move on to the real world, when in fact, like, the real world is very much in touch with school. Like, for example, when you look at, like worker conditions, or like, why people are organizing and labor unions. Like, you know, capitalism sort of alienates workers, and in a sense, the University alienates its students, and, you know, with that, it's like, when you itemize people into like, just individuals, it's really difficult for them to, you know, foster collective action and take care of each other, which I think is like really important, and I really grappled with this question this year. I just finished my term with my term with the Muslim Students Association as an executive. And the work that we do there is, to me, like absolutely crucial. You know, just given not only the rise of Islamophobia, but like more subtle forms of it. Being able to create room for each other to just kind of look after ourselves to sort of reconnect with our faith, reconnect with people of knowledge was really important to me. Because, you know, you can go through the motions and when people have, you know, identity crises, faith crises, it's really difficult, like we were saying earlier. It's a struggle, you know, by yourself. And in that sense, when, you know, an institution like the university fails to cater to the individual. The responsibility unfortunately falls on the students staff to create that community for each other. And I think what was absolutely amazing was just watching us organize around the mental health crisis. Like that was something that you know, All our, this is going to sound very, like liberal platitudes, but across all our differences, we are able to, you know, reach a consensus around the fact that there really was a crisis on campus and the university really had to grapple with - the students’ voices essentially became a voice to be reckoned with. Where, you know, we were able to organize among ourselves. We were able to pressure admin by disrupting, by calling to the attention of media. Which really kind of threw off in the sense that like, perhaps, you know, perhaps U of T is not just only known for their research, they’re actually known for creating really detrimental conditions for their students. So things like that, like community care, in a sense, is essential. And I think you can kind of find that in clubs, you can kind of find that in just your peer to peer networks, your interpersonal relationships, your family. Like things that move beyond like, just the ordinary, isolating activities like we were kind of talking about earlier.

Sabrina: Yeah, I think it's interesting how you're talking about the isolating experience and also, you know, leaving baggage at U of T if you have baggage at U of T, but I kind of wanted to challenge that notion because I feel like a large portion of why the systems work, the way that they do is because the students are transient. And despite the fact that we're the ones paying for a product, we’re probably some of the least permanent aspects of this entire institution. So it's really easy for those who create policies and who create systems and who get paid to kind of change infrastructure and architecture and renovate things and change course enrollment and selection in ways that are counterproductive and counter intuitive to student needs. Because we really aren't here that long to do much. And while we're here, we're working. We're studying or forging relationships. We can't spend all of our time fighting administration. But some of the people who are best equipped at fighting administration, are alumni. Are people who have worked through it. Are people who have graduated. Are people who, you know, their protesting may not directly - they don't fear that their protesting will directly affect their marks or their standing or whatnot. And they have the capital to back it up. U of T raised what was it? Over 3 billion in their Boundless campaign and a lot of that came from donors and alumni. So when donors and alumni, especially alumni who’ve had that experience turn around, and they say, “why am I funding you? You know, it took me six years to graduate.” Not that that's a problem. But what is the problem is it took me six years to graduate because I never got adequate mental health services. Or when I was struggling, this structural issue, this part of the paperwork, messed me up or I didn't get my degree because of that. Why would I give you $200 or $2,000? So I think that's kind of a way of creating community as well is not leaving your baggage at the door. And that's not to say, you know, don't move on from it. Like move on from it. Live your best life, you know, forget about U of T, you know, leave your baggage at the door and forget about U of T. But when U of T comes a knockin and they want, you know, a $20,000 endowment because you became the next second VP of, I don't know, Google or whatever, turn around and say, why would I? I forgot about you. And I want to forget about you, and why would I help you out? You didn't help me out. And I think that's a big part of community that's difficult for university students and students. Even in high school is if you think about dress codes or sexist practices and things like that, is that the individuals who are permanent in these institutions are not necessarily the individuals who these institutions are meant to serve. And those who are meant to be served are transient. And it's hard to have a foothold if every year you have a new cast of characters and a lot of your greatest advocates have graduated and then you need to bring all the first years up to speed and by the time they understand what's going on they’re in third year and you're graduating.

Rebekah: I just relate so hard to that.

Tony: Really, yeah, thank you for bringing that up something that was like, really, really important. So for our closing, it's not really a rapid fire, but it's basically a nice question to end on. So after just like, you know, sharing, holding space together and being able to listen to all the different wisdom that's been shared, and also the wisdom that you shared with all of us. Now, think back to your younger self, whether that's the person that was making that transition from high school to first year. Or for us, Savy and I, like either thinking about that transition right before grad school, or just like any transition in your life where you're thinking about your younger self and some things that you might say to that person, knowing all the things and all the experiences that you've gained now. What is your older self now going to say to your younger self?

Sabahat: The only thing I would say to my younger self is it's not your fault. And that applies to a lot of things. I feel like my childhood was surrounded by guilt and me blaming myself for every single thing that was happening. And it's only just recently that I've decided that okay, no, like other factors were involved in the situation. So, yeah, I would just say, “girl, it's not your fault.” Yeah.

Rebekah: I think I would tell myself, it's okay like not to have a plan. If you told me five years ago that I would be sitting in Toronto, because I'm from the States, I would be like “why? Why would I be there? Wait, how did I end up there?” And there's a lot of different things that you can't foresee and a lot of variables that happen that you can't predict how things will turn out. So I'm very interested to see what 25 year old Rebecca will be doing because it's definitely going to be something that I can't predict right now what that will look like. And I'm working on new job right now. And every day we have a plan, like a schedule of things that are supposed to happen. But every day, something doesn't go according to plan and something is happening. And you just have to kind of figure it out on the spot and you can't predict that. Like a kid's going to go missing or you know, you can't predict that the buses are going to show up late, but you just have to like, take it as it comes and like make your best outcome out of that. And so, I think that that's been a really valuable lesson I've learned. Especially these past couple of months, because I'm like, the type of person who likes to plan and then likes to know what I'm getting into and what kind of options are available for me. But going forward, even looking at graduate school, I don't want to limit myself because I don't even know what things I'll be interested in like a year and a half or something like that. Or even like what kind of options or people I will meet that will influence the way or influence where I might want to go. So I don't know I'm just open to like as many opportunities, as many possibilities as possible. And I don't think that 16 or 18 year old Rebecca even really understood that.

Aqeel: Um, advice that I would give to my younger self would probably be to trust in incremental change. The idea of moderation. I know for me, something that I have, I've always had like really bad like perfectionist tendencies. And with that came a really - a very negative internal monologue. So I'd always be really hard on myself for not, you know, living up to the goals that I had, when I was younger. And also taking, you know, whatever knowledge I did have being able to put it at service to people around me. Something that I always kind of grappled with was the idea of like, evolution. I didn’t have the term for it at the time, but now I sort of have it now. The idea that, you know, at one point in time, change is going to happen for the people that deserve it. But in some cases, it definitely does work like that. In other cases, it's small moments that eventually galvanized into change. and postponing my ideas for evolution, not abandoning them, was something that I probably should have told myself when I was younger. Because I always thought, you know, if you just worked hard enough, things would change and things will be better. But and again, where it kind of relates to the idea that everything is your responsibility and you have to achieve it on your own. But like being able to remind myself that I do need more people to be involved there. If we do want change for the better and like being able to teach myself that change happens in increments. And like, being able to, for example, challenge negative self talk, it takes learning to really appreciate things that you are good at, so that you could eventually use the good that you experienced by treating yourself well to create good for other people, you know, in the long term or even like in smaller effort. So it's, I would teach myself that like incremental change is really important and that things may not come as, as fast or as quick as you may like. But it doesn't mean that it's not possible.

Savy: Something I would tell my younger self, probably in first year, would be to really just try and enjoy the process a little bit more. And don't be so focused on where I need to be, or what I need to be doing. Just be more present and just try to enjoy the moment. I definitely had a lot of imposter phenomenon, right? Yeah, I felt like, Oh, I need to be studying so much. And I just, I spent so much time studying and didn't enjoy I think a lot of experiences where I could have. So I learned that more. But yeah, I would definitely tell myself try to be more present and enjoy the moment. And even now, like in my job, people will ask, well, like, what do you see yourself doing? And I just think well, like, this is what I'm doing now. Like, I want to be present now and be grateful for what I have now. Right? So there's always so many places that you could be or possibilities and opportunities where you could work and where you could do grad school and that. But just, I'm grateful for where I am now. So I'm trying to focus on being more mindful. Practicing, like gratitude. Making meaningful connections with other people, community and trying to focus on how I'm feeling in the moment and not on, is this what I want to do? Like, this is what I'm doing and I enjoy it. So, do you know what I mean? Yeah.

Tony: Thanks for sharing that. I love that so much. Being grateful for the moment. And that's actually going to be something similar to what I would tell my younger self. And something that I've been trying to remind myself is like, I think it can be really easy to get wrapped up in the uncertainty of the future. I think sometimes it can be really scary to think about things that I have literally no control over and cannot predict. And at the same time also just reminding myself of all the dreams I used to have, like I'm living those right now in this moment. And thinking a lot about how, yeah, like I've always wanted to, you know, dream of trying to live in a different city, doing a Masters, continue to explore and find myself. And also like, challenging myself. Like this whole podcasting gig. Like, there were a lot of dreams that I've had that have come true. And I think I'm just like, taking a moment to really appreciate that and just remembering like, how much I used to dream of being where I am right now. And for me, like, I don't know, I think that's really beautiful. And I, and like, of course, we can continue to dream of other things too. But just taking that moment to really be grateful

Savy:And be proud. Be proud of yourself.

Tony: Yeah. To be proud of ourselves.

Mica: Thank you to Savy, Aqeel and Rebekah for sharing their insight and wisdom with us. And thank you to Tony, Sabrina and Sabahat for fostering the safe space for this meaningful conversation. And a special thanks to Carly Stasko, Braden Doane, and Day Milman for their help in producing today's episode. These conversations were recorded as part of the Peer Wisdom Talking Walls exhibit. The West Meeting Room is a production of Hart House Stories. Our intro outro music was produced by Dan Driscoll. To find out more about our team and the Talking Walls exhibit. Please visit harthouse.ca and be sure to follow us on Instagram at @harthousestories. I'm Mica signing off as your host for today's broadcast of The West meeting Room. Thanks so much for listening and we'll see you next week.

#student #community #care #learning #study #experience #relationship #navigating

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nazariolahela · 4 years

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Best Beloved: Chapter 2

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @lady-calypso @irishwhiskys-blog

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Nadia introduces the group to her new boyfriend. Kaia and Damien get paired up for a class project.

Kaia

“Kaia! Over here,” Sloane called out from across the dining hall. I waved to her and snaked my way through the tables of cliques that made up Hartfeld’s student body. Jocks. Greek Life. Musicians. Techies. Theater Kids. When you think about it, college wasn’t that different from high school.

I arrived at the table she held for us and set my bag down next to my chair. “Nadia just text me. She’s on her way and should be here any minute.”

Sloane nodded and her stomach made an angry growling sound. “Do you mind if I go get in line now? I only had a granola bar for breakfast this morning and I’m starving.”

“Nope. Go ahead,” I told her. She smiled and made her way over to the register. I watched her scan her meal card, then happily skip over to the pizza station. I pulled out my phone and opened up my text messages to ask Nadia where she was when a high-pitched voice rang out through the dining hall.

“Kaia! There you are!” my cousin shouted as she meandered her way across the dining hall. I stood up from my seat and greeted her with a hug.

“Hey, girlie. How were your first few classes?”

“Oh. My. GODS, Kaia! I am SO excited for this semester,” she squealed. “I literally have the best schedule. It’s all art classes!” She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to me. “What’s your class schedule look like?”

I pulled mine out and handed it to her. “Mostly Gen Eds. But I do have a 200 level course, which I’m kind of excited about.” I scanned her class schedule and my eyebrows dipped into a V. “You know you’re going to have to take your Gen Eds before you can take your upper-level courses, right?”

She waved me off. “I can do that next semester. College is all about having fun. Who wants to take a bunch of boring courses where stuffy professors drone on about things no one cares about?”

I shook my head and handed her back her schedule. That’s Nadia for you. She never took anything serious growing up, which both amused and worried me. She did the same thing in high school. Her advisor told her she couldn’t take all elective courses, so when it came to the end of her high school career, she had to backload a bunch of Math and Science courses just to graduate on time.

A few minutes later, Sloane approached the table, holding her lunch tray. She set it down and took a seat next to me. “You must be Nadia. I’m Sloane. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to Nadia.

“Oh, my gods! You are so pretty!” Nadia replied, leaning over the table and wrapping Sloane up in a hug. Sloane tensed up for a moment, then relaxed and patted Nadia on the back before they released from each other’s grips.

“So...Where’s this mysterious guy you’re so eager for me to meet? I’m starving!” I said to Nadia. At that moment, she jolted up from her seat and began waving her arms over her head.

“Steve! Come say hi to my cousin,” she said. “Guys! I want you to meet my boyfriend.” Sloane and I exchanged a glance and mouthed “boyfriend?” as a tall blond guy made his way over to our table. He was at least six feet tall and built like a tight end. I eyed the Berry High Letterman jacket he wore and was taken aback. I didn’t think that was Nadia’s type. His long locks framed his face, and he tucked a strand behind one of his ears as he approached us.

“You must be Kaia! I’ve heard so much about you ” he smiled as he extended his hand. I took it in a friendly shake.

“All good things, I hope,” I replied, side-eyeing my cousin.

She laughed, wrapping an arm around Steve’s torso. “Ignore my cynical cousin. She’s totally kidding. This is Sloane, Kaia’s friend.” He shook her hand and then he and Nadia took a seat across the table from me and Sloane.

“Sorry, I’m late. My marketing class ran late,” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nadia’s temple.

“No biggie, babe. You’re here now.”

Sloane and I gave each other amusing looks at Nadia's use of the word 'babe.' “So, Steve. What are you majoring in?” I asked.

His eyes lit up. “Econ & Finance. My dad runs an investment firm that I’m hoping to take over after graduation. That is if my NFL career doesn’t pan out. Got into Hartfeld on a football scholarship.”

“You play football? What position?” Sloane asked, shoving a bite of pizza in her mouth.

“Wide receiver. I was a five-star recruit coming out of high school,” he replied, pointing to the logo on his letterman jacket. “I’m hungry, babe. Ready to get something to eat?”

“Let’s go,” Nadia answered. “Come on, Kaia.” I waved to Sloane and followed Steve and Nadia up to the register. We scanned our lunch cards and Steve made a beeline for the carving station. Nadia and I moved over to the sandwich station. She decided on the Caprese Melt while I opted for the Reuben.

“Soooo...what do you think?” Nadia inquired as we stood in line for dessert.

“He seems nice. How’d you guys meet?”

“Funny story. We’re dorm neighbors. I was moving my things into my room move-in weekend, and I had some boxes piled up in front of the door. So, I’m in my room trying to set stuff down when I hear this loud crash. I run out into the hall and there he is, laying on the ground, my stuff scattered everywhere. I had set the boxes down in front of his door and when he came out of his room, he accidentally tripped over it. I thought he broke his ankle because he was rubbing it. I felt so bad. I grabbed a cold pack and brought him into my room to elevate it and put ice on it. I asked him if there was anything I could do to make it up to him. He said, ‘Take me out to dinner and we’ll call it even.’ So I took him out Saturday night to this cute little restaurant. We got to talking. Hit it off immediately. We came back to the dorms, got a little drunk. One thing led to another, and, well…”

“STOP! For the love of gods, please stop. I do not need to hear the rest of that sentence,” I pleaded. She giggled and picked up a plate of blueberry pie, setting it on the tray next to her sandwich. “So you guys are official now?”

“As of last night,” she blushed, her eyes sparkling. Uh oh. I knew that look. I love my cousin, but she tends to fall in love way too quickly. The douchey theater kid she dated our sophomore year of high school comes to mind. They only knew each other for a few weeks, but she claimed they were in love. Her parents hated the guy and forbade her from seeing him, so she ran away from home so they could be together. Thankfully his parents found them at the train station before it took off. They shipped him off to some boarding school out west and she never heard from him again.

“Soooo...guess who I literally ran into this morning,” I said changing the subject.

“Who?”

“Damien.”

Nadia gasped, nearly dropping her tray. I looked over at her and saw the frown on her face. She was the only one who knew of the “situation,” besides Damien and me. She was with me the days following his departure when I cried endlessly and refused to get out of bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it was a shock seeing him, but I think enough time has passed where we can be around each other without shit getting awkward. Plus, I guess he has a girlfriend now.”

She sighed and reached out to touch my arm. “Let me know if you want to talk about it, okay?”

I nodded and we made our way back to the table where Sloane and Steve were chatting over their schedules.

“I heard Dr. Carson is a real hardass. I am not looking forward to that class,” she replied.

“What class is that?” Nadia asked, sitting down next to Steve. He slung an arm around the back of her chair and stuck his fork in her pie, stealing a bite.

“Calculus. Sloane and I have it at 2 today,” he said, licking the blueberry filling off his fork. Nadia watched him, eyes filled with lust and I cleared my throat to snap her out of it. “What classes do you have, Kaia?” he asked.

I slid my schedule across the table to him and he eyed it, then nodded approvingly. Nadia snuck a peek at Sloane’s schedule, then turned to me. “I’m kind of sad we don’t have any classes together this semester, Kaia. We’ll have to make sure we make time to hang out.”

“That’s your fault for not taking any Gen Eds, dork,” I replied, chucking a french fry at her. She swatted it away with her hand and laughed. The four of us talked through the remainder of our lunch hour. We discussed our majors, Steve’s football schedule, and any good parties coming up. Steve then invited us to watch the Bobcats play their first home game of the season on Saturday. Sloane commented that she had never been to a football game or a party before and we all gasped.

“Seriously, never?” Nadia questioned.

Sloane shook her head and took a sip of her Diet Coke. “I was too busy studying to participate in all that stuff. Plus, no one ever invited me.”

Nadia slammed her palm down on the table, causing all of us to jump. “That’s it, Sloane. I’m giving you your first real taste of college life. You’re coming to the Delta Mu Kappa party with us on Saturday. The quarterback on Steve’s team is a member and he’s extended an invitation to all the new freshmen. It’s kind of like a housewarming party for the new school year. You should come too, Kaia.”

Sloane looked over at me nervously. I smiled and turned back to Nadia. “Sounds fun. We can meet after Steve’s game and go together.”

“It’s a date,” Nadia said, clapping her hands together excitedly. We finished up lunch and headed off to our next classes. I made my way through the bustling crowd back to Clark Hall, where my noon class was held. Thankfully, I didn’t have to trek to the third floor this time. I arrived in room 210 for Dr. Ross’s Interpersonal Communication class. I scanned the rows of desks, looking for an open seat, and found one near the middle of the room. I made my way past the chairs filled with chatting students and claimed my spot for the semester.

I pulled out my MacBook and a bag of candy and prepared to take notes once class began when a familiar voice spoke. “Is this seat taken?”

I looked up and locked eyes with Damien. Oh. Shit.

***

Damien

“Is this seat taken?” I asked, hoping that it wasn’t.

When I walked into Dr. Ross’s classroom a few moments ago, I spotted her almost immediately. I noticed the empty seat next to her and thanked the Gods for my good luck. I moved through the rows of seats and approached where she was sitting, watching her type on her laptop. A bag of Skittles lay open on her desk. She always loved those damn things. Once a week we’d walk down to the convenience store just so she could buy them.

She looked up from her computer at the sound of my voice and her eyes immediately went wide, like she had just seen a ghost. She quickly composed herself and shook her head, motioning for me to sit down.

I plunked down in the chair and drank in the sight of her. I couldn’t believe the girl I knew all those years ago looked like that. I was so taken aback by her bumping into me in the courtyard, I didn’t get a chance to appreciate her beauty. Her soft chocolate waves rested on her shoulder. Her deep brown eyes were the color of the earth after torrential rain. Her full lips pressed together as she chewed on the bottom one nervously. Her black and white collared shirt and A-Line skirt gave me some serious naughty schoolgirl vibes.

“Well, fancy running into you again,” I said with a laugh.

“Thankfully no humans or phones were injured in the process this time. But at least I can tell people you literally knocked me off my feet,” she quirked. Her comment drew a hearty laugh from me and several students turned around to look at us.

I winked and smiled back at her. “And no wardrobe casualties this time. My eyes traveled downward and I noticed she was no longer wearing pantyhose, giving me a view of her long legs. Down, boy I mentally told my dick.

Her cheeks flushed and she turned away. “Yeah, I had to toss them. Can’t walk around on the first day with a run in my pantyhose. Know what I mean?” She replied, brushing away an invisible piece of lint from her skirt.

“Mmm, I know all about that. My freshman year, I went through so many pairs of pantyhose. Had to stop wearing them ‘cause I couldn’t afford to keep buying new ones. You have a lot to learn, freshman.”

She giggled, the melodic sound filling my ears. “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m in this class.”

She burst out laughing but stopped when she noticed I wasn’t joking. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, long story. I’ll tell you about it later."

At that moment, Dr. Ross strolled in and began the class. I pulled out my notebook, sneaking peeks of her from the corner of my eye. She was fully immersed in the lecture, typing furiously as the professor went over the syllabus.

I remember being that eager on my first day. Taking note of every word the professor said, making sure not to miss a thing. Now, I just rely on the cliff notes and blind luck. I was pretty sure I still had my notes from the first time I attempted to take this class. I reminded myself to look for them this afternoon. I watched her for a few moments as the professor went over what to expect from this class. Her long, slender fingers glided over the keys as her lips pursed in concentration.

“Can I borrow a pencil?” I leaned in and whispered. I didn’t need one, I just wanted an excuse to talk to her. She reached into her bag and handed it to me, our fingers lightly brushing as I took it from her. Her breath hitched and she jerked her hand back like she touched a hot stove. The corner of my mouth tugged up in a small grin.

Professor Ross moved on to discussing the series of semester group projects he had planned for us. Oh boy. Here we go again. I tried to avoid group projects for most of my college career. They’re fucking awful. One person in the group always ended up doing the majority of the work, while everyone else fucked off and still got the credit. I did, however, meet Alana through a group project, so I guessed they weren't all bad.

“Okay, class. I’m going to divide you into groups of four. When I call your name, pair up with the other members of your group and get started on an outline for your first project.” He began calling off names and students shuffled around the room to pair up with their new groupmates. “...Group 4 will be Brad King, Allison Page, Kaia Park, and Damien Nazario.”

I looked over at Kaia and she ducked her head. Well, then. I gathered up my books and followed her over to where Allison and Brad sat. My eyes involuntarily traveled down her back and landed right on her ass as her skirt swished with her movements.

Stop it, Dames. But it was no use. This was happening, and my dick couldn’t be happier. I moved my books in front of my crotch to hide the semi currently taking up residence in my pants. She took a seat where a guy with brown hair and glasses, and a girl with wavy blonde hair were sitting. I grabbed the one next to her and subtly adjusted myself.

Brad, the self-appointed group leader took one look at Kaia, making a show of slowly looking up and down her body, then held his hand out to her with a smirk. “Well, you look promising.” He glanced around the classroom, then back to her. “You’re obviously the hottest girl here, which means we definitely need to be introduced.”

“Uh...I’m Kaia,” she asked, holding out her hand for a shake.

He took her hand and drew it to his lips for a kiss. “The name’s Brad,” he replied. Of course, it was. And he was a textbook douchebag. I shot a look at Kaia and Allison, silently begging them to let me punch him.

Allison piped up. “Hi, I’m Alli-”

“Alright, let’s skip introductions and move straight to the part where you give me your number,” Douchebag Brad said, waving Allison off and wiggling his eyebrows in Kaia’s direction.

“Orrr...we could just stick to introductions so we can get on with this project.” she snapped. That’s my girl!

Brad winked at her then eyed me incredulously. “And you must be Damien.”

“Yep, that's me. Let’s get this over with so we can start assigning parts.” I said, rolling my eyes.

Douchebag Brad smirked then opened up the packet Professor Ross handed us. “Okay, everyone turn to page three, where you’ll see a list of topics for this project. I was thinking we could do the first part on the Gibbs Reflective Cycle.”

“What about the Johari window model for our first part? It’s a great method to enhance our perception of others. And it’s the perfect way to reveal information about ourselves to the rest of the group and learn about ourselves from their feedback,” Allison chimed in.

Kaia hummed and tapped her finger to her lips, drawing my eyes there. I thought back to the night of my graduation party and what they tasted like. “I like Allison’s idea for the first part. We could use it to get to know each other. Then we could use Brad’s suggestion for the second part of the project and move to Knapp’s Relationship Model for the third part,” she said, looking in my direction.

My body tensed. Was she taunting me? The rest of the group turned to me, waiting on my input. I quickly scanned the page of topics the professor gave us and picked the first one I saw.

“Nonverbal communication seems like a good place to start,” I replied curtly, drawing looks of confusion and annoyance from the rest of my group.

Kaia sighed. “Well, it doesn't look like we’re going to agree on the first part of this project today. How about everyone pick a couple of topics that they like and we’ll compare notes in Wednesday’s class. We need to have the first part laid out by next Monday, so that gives us a few days.”

The others nodded in agreement and class was dismissed a few minutes later. We all exchanged phone numbers and Allison waved goodbye as she left the classroom. Brad extended his wrist and checked his watch. “So, Kaia. Are you doing anything tonight? We could meet at the library for a study session, then grab a bite after.”

“Uhh...I’m actually busy tonight. But I’ll see you in class on Wednesday,” she replied. He looked at me quickly in annoyance, then back at her.

“The offer’s still open,” he said, winking at her as he sauntered out of the classroom. I watched as Kaia packed up her things. She looked up at me and smiled softly, then slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked off. I trailed a respectable distance behind her, avoiding staring at her ass this time. When we exited Clark Hall, she stopped walking and turned to me.

“So, what’s your next class?”

A light breeze blew a strand of hair into her face and I had to shove my hands in my pockets to avoid touching her. “I’m done for the day. You?”

“I have College Algebra, then I’m done. You wanna get coffee after?” she asked.

“I thought you had plans.”

She laughed. “I just said that so Brad would leave me alone. I was hoping you were free this evening. I could buy you a cup of coffee to apologize for brutally crashing into you this morning, and it will give us a chance to catch up.”

Guilt slammed in my chest. You have a girlfriend, asshole. Remember? “Uh...I-I have plans... with my girlfriend tonight. But we can get together another time.”

“Oh…okay,” she said, not meeting my eyes. We both stood there in awkward silence for a few beats before she spoke up. “Okay, well I gotta get to class. Umm...I’ll see you later.” She gave me a quick wave before taking off in almost a dead sprint.

I knew I was doing the right thing by not leading her on, but I still felt like shit about it. I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Alana, seeing if she was free. I walked over to a bench near the center of the courtyard and sat down waiting for her reply. The afternoon sun lit up the campus with a warm glow as students moved from building to building, talking and laughing.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down and saw a text from Alana telling me that she had something come up and wouldn’t be able to meet me tonight. Fuck. I didn’t want to believe that she was mad, but here it was in black and white. I dragged my hand down my face and gathered my backpack before shuffling my way back to my dorm alone.

#best beloved #pm au #college au #friends to lovers #perfect match #choices fanfic #damien nazario #kaia park #damien x mc #nazariolahela fanfic

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hellenhighwater · 5 years

Note

Do you think any of your high school teachers were on to you?

If you mean that they knew I sometimes just did whatever, sure. A few definitely did. This was a small, private prep school–my graduating class was only 56 people–and teachers knew everyone as individuals. But you’ve gotta understand that I was (and am) a huge bookworm, and this was back before I did all my reading digitally. I was the kid who’d come in to the first class with one novel and leave for the day halfway through the next novel. People don’t think of bookworms as troublemakers. Except, of course, english teachers, who know better.

let me just put this under a cut, because I’m sure most of you don’t care.

My first class on my first day of high school was english. We were going to read lord of the flies. The teacher passed out copies of the book five minutes into class, and asked if anyone had read it. Nobody had. He spent about an hour talking about the book (which I didn’t catch, because I’d already started reading), and then told us to read the first chapter–and only the first chapter–for the next day. I looked up, having just finished the last chapter, and said “Oops.”

He kept an eye on me after that.

Honestly, he was one of my favorite teachers. I had a tendency to sort of half-do assignments in classes I enjoyed, in the sense that if I wasn’t interested in a writing assignment as it was given, I would do something else that was vaguely related and turn that in instead. That might have been an issue if extra credit hadn’t been available, but it usually was. (The teacher in that class somewhat jokingly promised extra credit to anyone who could recite the Raven from memory, with the expectation that nobody would. I took a couple weeks and then did that. Which surprised him enough that he gave me like…fifty points of extra credit, and I finished the class with like a 115%.) When I was a junior I took a class with him that was otherwise all seniors, who finished classes 3 weeks before everyone else. He and I spent those last three weeks playing trivia games against the gym teachers.

I took art every term that I could, and requested assignment to the art room for study halls whenever possible. The art teacher asked me after the second year if I’d rather just do art as an independent study, and I agreed, of course. That meant that whenever I had gaps in my schedule, I’d just go to the art room and dick around for a while. I didn’t have assignments, I just had to turn something n every so often, and I made some weird stuff. Some of it is still on display at the school, actually. I was basically the TA for art for a good few years. I used to have underclassmen ask me to sign their hall passes, because I “wasn’t the art teacher but I basically was.” The art teacher probably knew what I was up to, but she also appreciated the help enough to leave me to it.

I got really good at only taking classes that I wanted to take. I started taking classes through our nearest community college as a Junior, and that threw things off for my class schedule a lot. I convinced the vice principal that my stage tech classes should count as math credits, so I got out of those for a couple years, and most of the junior-senior social studies and history courses were only offered in time slots that I was off campus, so I did a random WWII elective instead of government-econ and sociology, which was, if you know me, a cakewalk. I wasn’t around for American Lit, either, which was mandatory. The VP decided to let the english faculty deal with that, so one of the teachers gave me the list of 200 classics that students could chose from for their book reports in that class and told me to check off any I’d read. I’d read about a hundred and fifty of them. He said, and I quote, “Yeah, you don’t need this class.”

Basically the story here is that I was a huge bookworm, and played enough of a shuffle with my schedule that almost none of the faculty were ever sure where I was actually supposed to be, and the ones that did know didn’t care. My GPA was solid, I took the ACT as a freshman and got like a 26 on the first try, so they knew I’d be fine for college. As long I wasn’t doing anything outright illegal or getting anyone else in trouble, what was the harm?

#storytime with hell #lord of the flies is 60 #000 words #give or take a bit #that's a one hour book #Anonymous

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early20thcenturynerd · 5 years

Photo

“Margetta Hirsch Doyle ’45 was a regular student at William & Mary. Her friends called her 'Getta' and she was a Kappa Delta. Doyle kept a diary and wrote about her philosophy quizzes, described how much she enjoyed making Red Cross surgical wrappings and mentioned hours spent spotting airplanes from campus buildings. Doyle was a student during World War II.

During the second World War, William & Mary became a predominantly female campus. While many college-age males fought abroad, women kept up the war effort from Williamsburg. In between their studies and social life, students volunteered with the Student War Council and the American Red Cross. Along with other service work, they, like Doyle, made surgical dressings and spotted airplanes, sometimes in groups and sometimes alone.”

Margetta Hirsch Doyle's Entries for May, 1943:

MAY 1

Happy May Day! It was Saturday and so we didn’t do much. Cary, Beth, Mrs. Dalthud and I went marketing and made out pretty well. Cary and I made the first major mistake of our careers as housekeepers. We bought birdseye fish for dinner (no points) and naturally thought we should keep it frozen in the ice box. By the time Lizzie and Flora arrived there were just so many chunks of ice lieing there. We all howled hysterically over it and had a vegetable plate dinner (I hope the fish will thaw by Monday!) This afternoon Cary and I went down town and to the Wigwam. I wrote some letters, changed the bedding on my bed and generally wasted time - worked tonight. I received a card from Bill Brennan - his 29 day training is almost up.

MAY 2

Such an unusual little day! We slept unusually late and then Beth, Punchy and I dressed to go to church. As we came out of Bruton, Joy Allen pounced upon Punchy and me saying Cary had walked by with two ensigns and a lieutenant j.g. and wanted us to walk up to the Lodge and meet them. Bewildered, we looked at each other with a what-the-heck attitude and walked on up. Sure enough, there was Cary with three naval officers! We soon became acquainted and had loads of fun drinking champagne cocktails and eating dinner. After awhile we came back to the house and played the vic. It was really a terrifically pleasant afternoon. Cary, Punchy and I pored through the want ads and I wrote six or seven letters of application to see how the land lies. I tried to phone Bill Brennan to wish him a happy birthday but couldn't get the call thru.

MAY 3

Things may seem “awfully dismal” at times but I’m really so very lucky and the bright spots of life are so nice. Tonight - brazen hussy that I am! - while down at work I placed a call through to Bill Brennan again. It wouldn't come, but the little operator kept trying (pull!) and finally just after I got back to the house the phone rang and a voice said “Boy! This is wonderful!” Ya huh, ‘twas Willy and gosh it was super talking to him. It wasn't at all like a typical long distance conversation - we just said dumb old things and deep things and you’d have thought we were both in Hollis rather than in Billsburg and Atlantic City respectively. So nice! Oh I forgot to mention that I got a perky letter from him too. I’m beaming obnoxiously. I wish…….. My life has a mysterious element too. This evening while I was out two darling marines came to see me, one of who “was a very good friend of a girl from home.” Vague, but I hope they come back!

MAY 4

I’ve still glowed all day from last night’s phone call, and even now nice things keep happening. At lunchtime the package man came bearing a gift for me: a lush "bon bon" spoon with an awfully sweet note from “Mom” Brennan -- I was so tickled with it, and love her good. We rushed today informally - Betty Marie Ellett for lunch and two other girls for dinner with the usual accompanying intra-sorority feeling. Initiation for Jinx Richardson, Ann Wilson and Eleanor Ramsdell was last night and so we had a cup service at seven o’clock this morning - then classes, marketing, fun and work. I received real nice letters from Mother and Daddy and a faintly perky one from Bill Boyd. He is trying to stall off his furlough until June when I’ll be home. Gosh, I hope it’ll work. I’m so lucky! Flat Hat mentioned Punchy’s & my badminton defeat.

MAY 5

This morning was the annual convocation for the tapping of the members of the junior class chosen to be Mortarboard and ODK. It was very impressive and full of suspense, since supposedly noone knew who was to be selected. Fran Pendleton was one of the five girls to get Mortarboard and we’re all very thrilled about the whole thing. The other girls were Margie Lentz, Katie Rutherford, Marion Ross, and [Lebe] Seay. Mary Wilson Carver is the new president. Punchy, Carolyn Harley and I went up on Barrett roof sunbathing and got faintly tanned. Then we went shopping for Mother’s Day gifts and had our pictures taken at the telephone office. Per usual when having our pictures taken, Punchy sneered and I had “my fixed look” sat on the camera, but we’re celebrities anyway. Beth & Marty won badminton matched over Gamma Phi.

MAY 6

“Rabbit - rabbit” really worked this month cause things keep getting better ‘n’ better. Today was a usual Thursday: marketing classes (Econ outside in the Sunken Gardens), archery (I’m off the 30 yd line at last) and swimming. After that we went downtown to the official dedication of the U.S.O., with music and speeches, including one by John D. Rockefeller, ‘Jr. ‘Twas sort of impressive. Yearbooks came out today and it’s the best Colonial Echo in years. We spent considerable time in poring over it, laughing and "ohing" and "ahing". Remember the marines I wrote about Monday night? Well, Warren Ripley came back this evening and is awfully nice. He knows Mary Claire Willard from St. Mary’s and she gave him my name. -- small world. He, a goon, Mavis Bunch and I went to the movies (”Truck Busters” was horrible) and then to the Lodge coffee shoppe

MAY 7

I’m awfully tired, and in a bad mood though still awfully happy about everything. Such a nice life? Nothing exciting happened today. I didn't go marketing, but instead went up in the Library tower for two hours - once with Cary and once with Midge - spotting airplanes. I managed to get a bit of studying done for my philosophy quiz which I sleepily took. (B- on last week’s) I went over to the office to get a social card for Warren and ended up talking in Louise’s room; then I wrote letters to both Bills and fooled around. Holly Rickis has come back for the weekend - it’s natural to have her here. Work was bitter - everything went wrong and the time dragged. A “nice voice” called me up and chatted and a sailor walked us home. Such a masculine life as I’ve been having glimpses into. I can’t get over it! Floyd wrote me from Hunter Field, Georgia

MAY 8

The weekend has come and I’ve resolved to purely have fun - and how it has started! This afternoon Beth and I went downtown to do our weekly shopping for odds and ends and then she Punchy and I went sunbathing by the practice house with Danny and Eleanor Ramsdell, It’s really hot too! Warren came by with two other marines to tell me that they were going to Richmond and he mightn’t be back right on time for our date tomorrow night. Seeing the other two marines I promised Beth & Punchy dates tomorrow night - and I dood it. Every few minutes, after we were all together I would say “Do you really want to do to Richmond?” and finally we talked them into staying for a howl of an evening. We saw “Air Force” one of the best pictures I’ve ever seen, and went to the Lodge. Ray and Dick kept wanting to be in Richmond, and kept making all sorts of classic remarks! Such fun!

MAY 9

Happy Mother’s Day -- and what a day! Being hot, we lazily relaxed around the house and didn't quite get to church. I wrote home and Bugsie, changed the bedding on my bed and dressed for dinner. In the middle of it Warren (who wasn't supposed to arrive until late this afternoon) came with Ray, and thus began the second day of my truly unusual experience. Since there isn’t much to do with a date here on Sunday afternoons we went for a walk through the woods and then sat and watched people playing tennis, after which we went to the movies and saw “Air Force” again. Then we went up to the Lodge for champagne cocktails and a howl of a dinner - amusing (!) episode about the time and the tip. What a boy! Mother phoned tonight - and then Harold from Camp Peary phoned me. He sounds nice but you can’t tell. He phoned the telephone co.

MAY 10

Nothing at all new again. Classes, marketing and quite a lot of studying this afternoon! I actually did some English Lit and then typed away on an interview for Psychology, letting my imagination run rampant with information. I really did get from Warren on the subject “Alcohol and You”. This evening there was the last W.S.C.G.A. meeting of the year, and then we went to an Economics makeup, disturbed by retreat’s being blown from the naval chaplains in our right ears. After that, we had song practice and sorority meeting, made vivid by stirring remarks about the state of the treasury and the consequences of not paying fines and the like. We had a dreamy serenade by Eddie Anderson and two other boys complete with guitar and drooled out the window at its romanticism.

MAY 11

I went to classes, and then as usual went downtown with Cary to do the marketing - was amazed that some boxes of puddings had arrived in town - it made our housekeeping have a bright spot for the day. Archery was nice in that I got off the 40 yd line in one try. I must have just been jinxed by the 30 yd line - I have a new lease on life now though. On the way back from archery, I stopped in to see Holly, Kay and Louise and talked to them for awhile before coming back to the house and getting ready to have my picture taken again for the Transmitter, the Telephone Co. periodical. Speaking of pictures, the Flat Hat came out today with our crummy picture and the writeup. Punchy and I are celebrities! Mother phoned about Daddy’s maybe coming down and to say she has the measles - imagine! Harold also phoned me!

MAY 12

Another awfully nice day! After classes and marketing I did my philosophy and then Beth and I rolled bandages for the Red Cross with Mrs. Pomfret. Beth and Punchy played badminton intramurals with Theta and won - I silently stood by and cheered. Warren was here when we got back & stayed till I had to go to work. He wanted a date tonight and Friday night too but I work both nights and so I got out of it very easily. He’s a nice fellow but a little too eccentric to be very enjoyable. In the mail I got a “big” picture of Bill Brennan in uniform. He looks good and it’s interesting to compare it to the other big picture I have of him. He’s so neat and how I’d like to see him! He enclosed a note as did his mom.

MAY 13

Gad! I’m weary! Today was another one of those days where nothing noteworthy happened but little thing after little thing kept piling up till I haven’t got much energy left. Why do I bother to mention classes, marketing and my athletic afternoon? I’m stuck on the 50 yd line in Archery and in swimming after I emerged from the pool, I slipped, leaped into the air and fell completely flat on my back -- I’m sore and my posterior hurts! At work everyone seemed irritable (probably just because I was) and things didn’t seem to get done right. It’s being paycheck night was the one bright spot -- by the way, with my remaining checks I’ve decided to pay for my $25 room reservation fee besides my ticket home. Then I’ll feel I’m doing something worth while and useful with my earnings.

MAY 14

Life keeps getting better ‘n’ better, excepting for some things of course, the chiefest among which being a meeting of two representatives from each sorority to which I went with Dr. Pomfret, Miss Wynne Roberts, Charlie Duke and Vernon Nunn all about eating in the dining hall next year and reductions (?) in rent, involving all sorts of amazing involvements. The fur was flying as we got in truly deep discussions. There’ll be another even hotter meeting next Monday evening. All the things that keep happening! Such a nice thing happened at work tonight! A Mr. Curyea, who has been calling New York to his wife quite frequently from Camp Peary asked me my number and when I came back from my relief a lush box of candy was waiting for me with a card which said “In appreciation of the service that I have received in my calls to New York City”. It was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me. Bugsie comes tomorrow! Life can’t get much nicer!

MAY 15

Such a beautiful life. Bugsie was supposed to come this morning but got lost through connections and finally arrived at 3:00 P.M. on the bus; Gosh! It was super seeing her again! We came back to the house and then walked around campus -- had a screwy time at dinner and afterwards getting dressed for a mass blind date - eight couples. It was super with us walking to the Lodge, Chowning’s, Rexalls #2 and going to the dance in Blow Gym with eight army lieutenants. It was a crazy evening but loads of fun, and I hope Bugsie had a kick out of it. Other lovely events: a cute letter from Jimmy Mooney and a perky one from Bill Boyd signed “All my love”. (slurpy, huh -- I’m so glad!) News that Bill Brennan is stationed at Hamilton College, N.Y. Oh things can’t get better

MAY 16

My poor feet! We crowded so much into this little day! First we went to Bruton for a service made completely memorable by the presence of British Admiral Pound, General Wavell & others. It seems that General Marshall and the other important allied military leaders have conferred in Williamsburg about future campaign tactics. As we prayed in church (all of us) it made me realize how insignificant I am in the powerful drama being enacted now. After church Bugsie and I went to the Lodge for dinner and then went sightseeing at the Capitol and Governor’s Palace, stopping at Lavery’s on the way. We went over to see Dossie and had supper with her in the dining hall. We had a typically crazy evening together in the house - Kay came over and we walked her home. Whee - so much done this weekend.

MAY 17

Still everything keeps on happening! Bugsie and I went downtown and did some marketing before I saw her off on the morning train - it was so swell having her here! This afternoon I attempted to do some studying and ended up by writing letters and indulging in bull sessions - also became a bit dreamy over a card and six page letter from Bill Brennan from Hamilton College announcing that things look awfully good so far as our seeing each other once or twice this summer is concerned. (Lovely thought!) This evening Becky and I went to the sorority representatives meeting for setting the rent problem with the administration. They’ve made concessions but even with having 2 extra girls in the dining room our individual room & board will increase about $25 a semester. Oooh! Touching last sorority meeting of the year.

MAY 18

Ooooh! I’m tired! Punchy and I slept through Philosophy, and I got up for the marketing sort of sleepily. In Economics I hesitantly began to read my report on Agriculture (1940-1942) and Doc Heidingsfield said it was one the best: therefore I love him good. This afternoon I graduated from the 50 yd line in archery and was happy to go in swimming on account of its being so very hot. At work tonight there were too many of us to record so I just sort of sat and was errand girl - terrifically boring - it’ll be sort of good not to work anymore. Mother called tonight to tell me that Daddy’s coming down this weekend - it’ll be swell and I’m awfully glad, but I can’t push off studying for exams much longer!

MAY 19

Today was the day when my conscience finally pushed me to the point of doing some studying - English Lit. - and I really got quite a bit of it accomplished, considering all that I have to do. So much work all at the end of the year (I know: it’s my own fault!) at 3:30 P.M. Beth, Punchy Carolyn and I took time out for trek towards the Wigwam for milkshakes and tin roofs to brighten our dreary outlooks on life. At work tonight I learned Rate and Route and that’s all the news there is about me. Mimi Jardine became engaged to MacGregor (a lieutenant in the navy who seems swell). Gollee - that’s the third in one little week for the KΔ house. Carolyn Harley agreed to take George’s miniature on her five hours off “campus” with him Saturday night, and Marty and Tommy are finally all set too. Such romance!!

MAY 20

No more classes or anything, ceptin’ exams - I still can’t believe it -- Honest! ‘Tis all over but the shouting and I’ve even made up my double gym. Archery, with a tournament, was terrifically hot, and so it was super indeed to go swimming even though we didn't have a regular class. Now I can go on towards being a Junior (depending on my exams natchally!) I got a letter from the New York office of the American Tel and Til Co. telling me to come in, in June to see about a job. At least it’s something definite that I can look into to see what they have to offer instead of wandering around completely aimlessly. Mrs. Dalthud took over the marketing today; and we’re really elated about it. Three cheers! I washed my hair tonight and am comparatively smooth! So much studying to do and so little time to do it in.

MAY 21

So many things have happened again today. I went downtown and then paid my $25 room reservation deposit out of my savings. At ten o’clock the train came in and Daddy got off after a hectic trip. He, Cary and I went to the Lodge and found he’s rooming with a Marine major who is quite a character and has wild parties each night. Poor dad - he came here for a rest too! We had lunch in the dining room and then I read over some philosophy notes, just for the heck of it. More relaxing and then Punchy and I went to work for the last time. I’m glad it's over in a way cause it’s getting sort of boring not to be doing anything new, but we’re going to miss the neat gang down there. A senior party back at the house with lush lovely reminiscences, singing, munching on candy bars, punch and lollypops. Such wonderful girls!!!

MAY 22

Day after day, things pile up! I went up to the Lodge and met Daddy for lunch, then coming back to campus for an Economics Review class. Warren Ripley and his mother (down to see him) came over to the house and then they went to the movies with Daddy and me to see “American Empire” one of the corniest Westerns I’ve ever seen. - ‘twas horrible. Beth and Punchy went up to the Lodge to meet us and we had a hysterical evening, including a yummy STEAK dinner, a trek to the major’s room, (meeting him and some of his gang.) and chatting with Chuck Gondak and other interesting people. We laughed and laughed together and really enjoyed ourselves. Marty became officially engaged to Tommy with a lovely ring. Mmmm! Perky letter from Floyd.

MAY 23

Another day at the Lodge! Carolyn Harley and I walked up to Bruton to meet Daddy for church. Reverend Wood, from Toronto, Canada, preached the sermon which was one of the best I’d ever heard (personification of the Cathedral in Coventry and St. Paul’s in London - most unusual but stirring!) Kay, Lou Holly and Danny came up to the Lodge for dinner and more idle chitchat. Kay, Lou and Holly left soon after dinner to do some studying. but Danny stayed and the three of us relaxed in the sun. We had a bite (a bite, I say?) to eat in the coffee shoppe and then I came back to the house and dove into my English Lit. - my mind’s bleary as it always becomes at this stage of the game (and I haven’t even started to study yet!) Harold called tonight!

MAY 24

All morning I grinded over English Lit till I could scream - I’m so sick of the darned stuff! Daddy came up to the house to meet everyone and then we had a sandwich in the Greek’s. This afternoon we went back to the Lodge and sat around talking. Oh, and yes, I did some more English Lit. Dossie Hostetter came up for dinner and we reminisced some more. All the gals down here are so neat! I said Goodbye to Dad till a week from Thursday, and then came back to the house to cram some more. Such monotony! I received another cute letter from Bill Brennan and mail from mother.

MAY 25

Dad left this morning on the morning train but along that time I was hibernating in Wren with my English Lit. exam. Twas really a corker - most of it was fair, but as always I met my Waterloo on the spot passages. At least the darned thing is over and I’ll never have to think about English Lit. again. (one exam down and four to go: Eureka!!) This afternoon I stopped at Barrett with a birthday present for Holly, went to the Wigwam and eventually settled down to studying Psychology of the interview, rather halfheartedly. My brain can’t stand too much concentrated studying all at once. Gee, I’m living and breathing for a week from now when it’ll be all over. Such fun as it’s been though. A postcard from Harold.

MAY 26

Apologies, Diary, for the monotony of these entries but the fact remains that I’m a study bug and nothing else. My only communion with the outside world was a trek to Casey’s for shampoo with which to wash my hair; and after that I returned to Philosophy and Economics. Such a broadening intellectual viewpoint as I’m developing! Much excitement over Jinx Richardson! Supposedly she spent the night in town with Bill Lugar already married and is being shipped. Rumors are spreading fast and furiously. ‘Tis a shame cause she really is a neat girl inspite of all the confusion in which she’s been involved. Letters from Mother and Bugsie, saying she has to have her wisdom teeth dug out of her jaw. Poor gal! Also packages & empty cartons from Dad.

MAY 27

Another day of pure studying! I’d much rather have exams day after day, than sit and cram Psych., Econ. and Philosophy into my head at the same time and then wait to find out how much I don’t remember. I can picture me writing Psychological answers on my Economics exam! All morning and part of this afternoon I spent over at the Practice House reviewing Econ. (see! I said I was in a rut!) with Danny. It helped to see the various emphasis placed on things. Then this evening inbetween perpetual feasts (from boxes à la Hollis) and a phone call from Mother, Beth, Punchy and I rambled over Psych. I got a card from Bill Boyd - he’s been on maneuvers and is going out again - doesn’t lead to a very satisfactory correspondence; but when the real time comes……

MAY 28

My brain just keeps on getting wearier and wearier. This morning I had my Psych exams, and this afternoon Econ., both of which were entirely different from what I’d expected. Unless Doc Heidingsfield is terrifically lenient - there goes my A! Good and amazing news though: I got a B as my final grade in English Lit. Dr. Crane mustn’t have counted all my mistaken spot passages very much. I love him dearly for it. - for bringing my C up to a B when I hadn’t expected a C definitely. Then too, I learned I’d gotten B on my last Psych exam (taken weeks ago!) So, excepting for what I did on my exams today, scholastically life’s looking up. After supper, Beth, Punchy and I took a longish bike ride and it was such fun! Twas my first actual ride and rather long too. A letter from Colbie and cards from Dad.

MAY 29

All my stiff exams are now over. Three huzzahs! Philosophy this morning was completely fair and one of the nicest exams I’ve taken this period. Now there’s only Spanish left. This afternoon we were fed up with the utter filth of the room (I’m not kidding either.) and so again moved beds, dusted, vacuumed, and rolled the rug in moth balls. Then the trunks were moved in and the room looks like a confused mess of the nth degree. I thought I’d lost my keys of the trunk and called home; Mum is sending down the duplicated and “All’s Well that Ends Well” We packed, sold our books in the Wigwam (only collected $2.55 for three books though!) and revisited the telephone company.

MAY 30

The last day of studying and working a la intellect until September - I can scarce believe it yet!! We didn’t go to church but personally improved ourselves, while I did Spanish and Beth and Punchy finished packing their trunks. Then Janie Beth Punchy and I ran a final hasty comb through our hair and went to the Lodge for claret and dinner. It was smooth and we had a lovely reminiscent time, catting and chatting about people. Gad, how I’m going to miss the super Seniors. I’m not at all anxious for the end of the year to come. It’s all been one continuously mellow feeling full of laughs and a few almost-tears which have made Kappa Delta and all the super gang in the house so near and dear to me!

MAY 31

Such a snap of a Spanish final with translations of sentences like “How are you?” - would that they all had been like that! Anyhoo, it’s over and I’m beautifully and blissfully free. This afternoon I pulled open drawers; dumped things on my bed; and by a process of elimination, packed my trunk. I love to pack, and really enjoyed it. With frequent trips to town for returning extra board money and doing last minute shopping, the afternoon sped by till time for Cary, Janie, Mimi Boone and I to see “The More the Merrier,” a howl of a movie about the Washington housing problem, starring Charles Coburn, Jean Arthur and Joel McCray. Darling. Letters from Daddy, Audrey and Bill Brennan.

#1943 #1940s #history #diary #diaries #journal #historical diary #william & mary #womens history #long post

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ikonct95 · 5 years

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A Mysterious Man

Living in South Korea was like a dream come true...is what you tell yourself every night before you go to bed. Let’s be real, every country as its issue, that’s understandable but living in another country while trying to make ends meet is tough.

See, during your freshmen year in college, your university had a project for students to compete in and win a scholarship to study at one of the many sister universities. It so happens that your university had a sister in South Korea.

At first, you applied jokingly, knowing that for sure you wouldn’t win the content and be able to study there. But you were proven wrong. You won. You got the scholarship. And you went to South Korea. Problem? The problem is that the scholarship only paid for the classes and books you needed. You had to pay for housing and other living expenses.

Your parents are helpful enough but you wouldn’t dare ask for a lot. So they agreed to pay half while you earned the other half and pay for whatever you needed. That’s how we find you working at a cafe in downtown Seoul.

Honestly, working in a cafe wasn’t that bad the pay is good. Enough to combine with your parents money and then some. Working at the cafe, you get to meet all sorts of people. Especially when you work the night shift (this semester you had classes during the after noon).

One particular customer was a man who appeared to be in his mid/late twenties. He always came to the cafe around 11pm or midnight and would leave at around 2-3. The man always wore black clothing, from head to toe. And wore a black mask and a black baseball hat.

Of course, seeing him sitting in his little corner by the window and tapping away at his phone or reading what appeared to be a script, creeped you out sometimes. Especially on nights where it was only you working.

But after waitressing for the man for the past two months, you knew he was harmless. Maybe it was because of the roundness of his eyes that reminded you of your favorite childhood teddy bear that your mother gave you on your 3rd birthday? Or, realistically, maybe it was because you only ever saw him at this cafe and not somewhere else so he wasn’t really stalking you? Who knows.

“The usual?” You asked the man in black when he stepped up to the counter at exactly 12:25 am. Soft rain falling outside of the cafe.

Shaking his head softly, he said “No.” his voiced muffled by the mask. “I’ll have the Tiramisu cake and hot chocolate.”

You raised your eyebrow questioningly at him but said nothing as you prepared his order while he walked to his favorite place. The corner table by the windy.

Something about him seemed odd tonight. Instead of tapping away at his phone or reading his script, he just inserted his earphones in and rested his head against the window and watched as the people walked by the cafe under the rain.

His slouching form made you take pity on him. Instead of putting three marshmallows in his hot chocolate like your manager always instructed you to do when preparing the hot chocolatey beverage, you added five marshmallows into his drink.

“Here you go.” You said in your normal voice hoping that he could hear you as you placed his dessert and warm drink before walking away.

It took you about 30 minutes to clean the cafe and seeing that there were no other customers beside the mysterious man, you decided to check the storage room on items that needed restocking. And once that was done, you sat on your chair behind the counter and took out your ECON 2029 book to review this week’s lessons.

“Can I have more?”

You were so absorbed in your book that you didn’t hear the man get up from his chair and walk towards the counter.

“Uhh...yeah, yeah sure.” You said while closing the book and taking his now empty cup to put in the sink and take a new one out to make another hot chocolate for him.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as you waited on the milk to get warm.

The man behind you shrugged, “Yeah.” His voice was quiet, “Even though I’m dead tired.”

You nodded your head and took the cup with the warm milk and placed on the counter in front of the man before taking chocolate powder and putting two spoons of it in his drink and stringing.

“Got a lot on your mind?” You added three marshmallows this time.

“Something like that.” The man seemed to be in a daze, eyes never leaving the warm cup as he watched the marshmallow drown in the brown liquid.

And then, as if a light switched was switched on, he snapped out of his daze and reach for his wallet.

“No,” you said and held your hand up, surprising both yourself and the man, “it’s on me.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes held guilt in them.

“Positive.” I mean, your paycheck will get cut this month but the man looked like he was going through a lot. An act of kindness wouldn’t hurt, right?

Nodding, he slid his wallet back into his pocket and taking the cup into his head then returning to his seat.

A short moment of silence passed by before the mysterious man spoke again, “Do you ever wish that you were somebody else?”

“Boy, do I.” You didn’t mean to snort but being a college student while working at the same time can be stressful. Clearing your throat, you quickly said, “All of us wished to be someone else at one point.”

At your reply, he nodded his head and looked down at his hands. “Sometimes, I wish I was normal.” He told you, “I’m tired of always trying to please people when they barely please.”

Not sure what he was talking about, you nodded along at his words and waited for him to finish.

“Sometimes I wish I was plain old Jongin.” He sighed sorrowfully.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, “What’s wrong with being yourself right now?” You asked while leaning your body on the counter.

Sighing once more, he answered, “I’m just tired of living a double life. Tired of pleasing strangers and living by their standards. I just want to be myself...Free from judgement.”

“Understandable.” You replied, “But you can do that now, you know. I mean, it’s not you’re an assassin or anything.” That earned you a chuckle.

“I think being an assassin right now wouldn’t be so bad.” He said quietly.

“Oh, come on,” you said while rolling your eyes, “How is killing people any fun? Plus, you always have to worry about protecting the people you love. You have to separate work from family and make sure they don’t interact.”

It was the mysterious man’s turn to snort, “At least no one knows an assassin.”

Getting frustrated at his words, you snapped at him, “And what, people around the world know you?” You crossed your arm in front of your chest.

“Yeah,” he replied, “they do, actually.”

Before you could ask him what he meant, he brought his hands up and unhooked the strings from his ears to pull down the black mask and removing his hat.

A barely audible gasp escaped your lips as the mysterious man faced you.

“Hello. I’m Kim Jongin from EXO. Nice to meet you.”

Nah uh. No. There’s no way that the mysterious man is Kim Jongin from EXO. Of all the places to meet a well known idol and interact with him for months, it had to be the cafe you’re working in. This is like some poorly written fanfiction.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out.

Jongin looked nervous as he looked away from you. “You’re not going to take pictures of me and post it online and have a swarm of fans coming here, are you?”

His words brought out of your state of shock.

Because, 1) What kind of shitty fan would do that? And, 2) His words from earlier but being a plain old Joe echoed in your head. The man needed a place other than his dorm or apartment to be himself. And judging by his behavior tonight? He needed it desperately.

“No.” You said firmly, “I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

He had a thankful long on his handsome face, “Thank you.” He smiled at you, his pearly white teeth shyly peeking through, “I appreciate it.”

Although you nonchalantly waved away his words, on the inside you were freaking out because Oh my god Kim Jongin has been coming here, at my cafe — ok not my cafe but the cafe I’m working at — and I didn’t even know?! Oh my gosh! This is freaking awesome! Okay, okay, calm down. Act cool.

“On one condition.” You said.

Jongin’s eyes grew wide in concern as he fidgeted in his seat. Poor man was probably thinking that you would demand money from him...or something worse.

“If you ever need a place to clear your head, please stop by. I’ll probably be here for a while and I could help.”

Jongin smiled again at your words. “I won’t stop coming here. It’s the only place that my fans don’t know about. So you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Your lips curled upwards, matching Jongin’s own smile.

And true to his words, every night Jongin came to your cafe. Some nights were long while others were short. Sometimes he would order something and other times he wouldn’t and just sit at his little corner, lost in his thoughts.

And maybe, like in those poorly written fanfiction, a relationship could blossom between you. Only time can tell.

#exo imagines #jongin x reader #kim jongin x reader #kai x reader #exo reactions #kim kai x reader #jongin imagine #kim jongin imagine #jongin scenario #kim jongin scenario #exo scenario

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woodsbane · 6 years

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Have you been apart of the sterek fandom forever? Do you want some nostalgia? Well here are some fics that if you’ve been around you have probably read over and over, and here they are again. AKA the sterek fic rec thats been a long time coming. If you’re relatively new, I suggest these as they have kind of been the top sterek fics since the relationship began. Enjoy!

Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie (Cheeseburger Baby) 17,698 | Teen and Up

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.

"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie.

"Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

According to Plans 72,744 | E

Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn't have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles' plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)

By Any Other Name 33,090 | E

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Moonwalkers 531,781 | E

Stiles had his entire Seven Years of Hogwarts all planned out:

Prank and Prank Hard. Woo Lydia Martin. Avoid detention and Potions at all cost. Have crazy fun.

Enter brooding werewolf to send this plan to the bottom of the Black Lake.

(Sacred) In the Ordinary (THIS IS MY PERSONAL FAVORITE) 78,759 | E

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time. Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious. Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

There’s Monsters at Home 83,575 | E

“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

Derek despised him.

Hide of A Life War 26,102 | E

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...”

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

Baking My Way Into Your Heart 178,630 | M

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new.

Living With Lycanthropy 44,905 | E

AKA: The Sterek Rival Bakeries AU

Wherein they both own bakeries, Stiles tries not to run his grandmother's legacy into the ground, Laura wants to be a better alpha, and Derek can't seem to get Stiles' attention the regular way - so naturally, he accidentally initiates a prank war.

(Or, if Teen Wolf was more like Gilmore Girls, with everyone far too invested in whether the Hale boy and the Sheriff's kid will work it out, and Laura Hale wrote a handbook for alpha werewolves.)

Pack Dynamic for Dummies 36,682 | Teen

Stiles isn't sure how a Pack is supposed to work, but he's pretty sure that this this disorganized jumble of people and events doesn't quite qualify. He has to hand it to Derek though, he keeps trying. And Stiles has never been one to stand quietly on the sidelines.

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You 83,979 | E

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

There is a brotherhood 21,004 | E

So far, college has taught Stiles three things:

1) Eight am classes are cruel and unusual and should be avoided at all costs, even if it means having to enroll in something truly hideous instead, like Econ 101.

2) Dorm security is just as tight as Stiles’ orientation leader had promised it would be, and the dude guarding Scott’s dorm in particular does not respond well to bribes.

3) Mrs. McCall clearly had no clue what she was talking about when she’d insisted that Scott and Stiles needed to branch out and room with strangers, so it’s all her fault that Scott ended up with a total dick of a roommate and Stiles got stuck all the way across campus with some guy who has a girlfriend two towns over and is thus never around.

Or, the one where pledge brothers Stiles and Scott start a prank war with Derek Hale's fraternity.

Hope is the thing with feathers 28,959 | Teen and up

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

Lead You Home Again 49,962 | E

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble 13,363 | Teen and up

When potions prodigy Stiles blows up one cauldron too many during one of his ‘experiments’, he gets assigned to making Wolfsbane Potion for the new groundskeeper. Which wouldn’t be so bad if the guy wasn’t you know, terrifying.

This is Ridiculous 35, 818 | E

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated Werewolf 35,458 | M

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

Wayward and Down 32,331 | E

Pack is family. Family is everything.

This is Stiles' senior year, and it's nothing he could have imagined.

That time it took not one, but two separate troll attacks and a malevolent coven of witches for Stiles to figure out how he felt about Derek.

Tremble 58,990 | E

Stiles may be cursed but that doesn’t mean he’s going to lay down and die. He’s going to fight. He won’t stop, he can’t stop. If he does, they win.

Permanent Fixture 80,777 | E

Derek is Scott's older brother. Stiles is Scott's best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Bogarted 3,126 | M

Alternate Title: "Dick Failwolf, Private Eye."

(Or, Derek's hit with a Film Noir curse, which forces him to narrate his own life in luridly-detailed prose.)

DILF 30,871 | E

"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst- Just Press Play 20,934 | Teen and Up

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

Stilinski’s Home For Wayward Werewolves 35,197 | Teen and Up

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

I Can’t Get Enough (Of You) 10,480 | Teen and Up

Fact: Derek Hale hates Potions.

There are a number of reasons why this is so. For one thing, Potions is really not Derek's strong point. (There's a reason he's banned from using the kitchen at home.) For another, the Potions classroom is dank and dim and spending more than an hour down there at a time makes Derek’s skin crawl.

And then there’s Stiles Stilinski.

He doesn’t need an explanation.

The Socioeconomic Repercussions of Mutually Assured Destruction 15,285 | E

"The trouble with having the kind of brain that likes to write essays on male circumcision for an Economics class, is that it also likes to turn PowerPoint presentations for Biology into odes on the perfection of notorious bad boy Derek Hale’s backside."

Linski’s Late Night Antidote to Lame 13,865 | Teen and Up

Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan.

Also there's this really hot guy he keeps meeting in the library who totally hates his guts.

28. Every Step You Take 49,347 | M

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

We’ve Written in Volumes (In Blood and Scars and Ink) 25,935 | E

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

Electricity in the Contact 27,067 | E

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows 22,322 | Teen and Up

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

can’t be hateful gotta be grateful 6,260 | Teen and Up

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma."

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Noticed 35,179 | Teen and Up

Stiles left on a Tuesday. Nobody noticed.

Losers 34,234 | E

Where Derek is new to college, eager to spend his time learning, and Stiles is everything he didn't want in a room mate. He's loud, he's into sports, and he keeps trying to make Derek do things.

Or, the one where Derek falls for a jock, Erica will cut you if you disturb her studying, and Jackson is a closeted romantic who pretends to hate everything.

35. Under Your Skin 12,207 | E

"So you decided hepatitis would be fun"; or the one about tattoos, waffles and ghouls.

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek fic rec #teen wolf #tw #sorry for the shit banner guys im not good at making online art #but yeah my reading needs to be updated so i might do another one #but these are just some of my all time faves

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writingblock101 · 5 years

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Stick Up (Frank Castle)

Request for @raylan-c: can you do 53. "I will always protect you" and 38. "listen to me, okay? we're getting out of here, together" with frank castle (platonic or romantic i dont mind) either in the same fic or separate ones whichever is easier. i loooved Safe btw ❤❤ you're sooo good at writing😍

Guess who’s back?? Hello my loves, I have missed you. Also @raylan-c you are so sweet!! Thank for the prompt and the kind words that got me crying in the club right now. I imagined this taking place during the beginning part of The Punisher so Frank goes by his fake name Pete. Without further ado!

Word Count: 1,700 (lol got a little carried away)

Warnings: Cursing, some gore, robbery, guns

The waitress job at a dinner was a pretty shitty gig, but it paid bills and college wasn’t cheap. Most of the time, you dealt with elderly people bitching about your generation or telling you random yet endearing stories. Other times, you met truck drivers passing through town. On occasion, you got a group of hungover students looking to order the greasiest thing on the menu. Your life was nothing glamorous or exciting, but like you said, it paid the bills.

The only remotely exciting thing about your week was visits from Pete.

Pete was an... interesting man. He came in once a week at various hours and ordered the same thing. Despite the varying time for his visits, Pete always came in when you were on shift. He was usually toting a large bag, sported multiple bruises, and wore a hat low on his face. His beard was grown out, his voice was gruff, and his hands were scared, but he was very friendly and always polite.

Your knowledge about Pete was limited. He worked in construction and used to be in the military. He always asked how classes were going and left disproportionately large tips. The first time, you thought the hundred-dollar bill paying for a nine-dollar check was a mistake, but Pete made it clear that it was intentional. While you knew he worked in construction, you were doubtful about construction paying Pete well enough to drop one hundred dollars every week at a dinner for a cup of coffee and a number seven special.

As you set a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of an elderly man, the door chimed. Pete strolled into the dinner and sat in the far back booth of your section. He looked over the menu provided on the table as if he were actually going to order anything different.

Once checking on your other tables, you grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and walked over to Pete.

“Good morning, Pete,” You smiled as you poured him a cup.

“Morning, Y/N,” He set the menu down and looked up at you, sporting a black eye this morning.

“You getting into fights again?” You teased, gesturing to your eye.

Pete chuckled then shrugged.

“Oh, you know me, always getting into trouble,” He paused to take a sip of his coffee then grinned up at you. “Besides, you should see the other guy.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“I’m sure.”

“You staying out of trouble?” He asked.

“Of course,” You promised.

“How are classes going?”

“They’re kicking my ass,” You admitted with a tired sigh.

“I’m sure you’re kicking their ass right back,” Pete took another sip of his drink.

“Trying to! I’ve got four papers due this week and no time to work on them.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, kid. Every time I come in here, you’re always working. You can’t burn the candle at both ends.”

“Guess you just can’t get rid of me,” You joked.

“Wouldn’t ever want to,” Pete lifted his mug with a grin. “You make the best coffee.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.”

“How did that test go last week?” Pete asked.

Last week, Pete came into the dinner late one night while you were studying for a media law test. He was on the only customer, so he sat at the bar and quizzed you.

“I got an A!” You responded proudly.

“Atta way!” Pete grinned.

The door chimed again as another group of customers walked in.

“I’ll go put your order in,” You promised. “Number seven special?” You checked.

“Yes, please” Pete nodded.

You smiled one last time at him then went to take drink orders for your new table.

“Good morning, and welcome to Bo’s Dinner,” You greeted the group of three. “My name is Y/N and I’ll be taking care of you this morning. Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

If you had to guess, the group of guys, probably in their twenties, were high on something. All of them had their hoods up, they were twitchy and fidgeting, and constantly looking over their shoulders. It was a little weird, but you’ve seen much weirder.

“Um...” One of them stared straight down at the menu. “Water,” He told the table.

“Coke,” Another muttered to their hands.

The last one with bright blue eyes actually looked up at you.

“A coffee would be great, please,” He requested politely.

“I’ll get those right out,” You walked toward the kitchen and began pouring drinks.

You give them their drinks then take their orders. A few minutes later, you delivered Pete’s food then brought the three stoners their food.

“How does everything look?” You asked.

“Looks great,” The blue-eyed boy reassured you.

“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you in a little while,” You promised then went to check on your other customers.

“How’s special?” You asked Pete, wandering back to his table.

“As delicious as always,” Pete grinned. “Say uh, is that boy in your econ class... Ah, what’s the little shit’s name again?”

You groaned.

“Ugh, you mean JoHo?”

Pete nodded.

“Yeah, that little shit. He still bothering you for a date?”

You shrugged.

“He’s trying to guilt me into a date. Sometimes he’s nice and backs off, other times, not so much.”

Pete grumbled at your response. One night, you came into work fired up over this annoying ass dude in your econ class. He managed to bait you into a date, which ended up being the worst date of your life. Pete lent an ear and offered for you to bring him into the dinner, so Pete could “have a chat”.

“My offer still stands,” Pete took a sip of his coffee. “Just let me have five minutes with him, he won’t bother you after that.”

You laughed, brushing Pete off.

“I only have a few weeks of the semester left. I can handle him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be scared for life by you.”

“He’ll learn to stop trying to guilt pretty people into dates.”

You blushed at the compliment.

“Let me go grab your check.”

You rang up Pete’s check and dropped it off at his table then went back to your table of stoners, gathering up their plates.

“Will that be everything?” You asked, picking up their plates.

“Just the check please,” The blue-eyed boy requested.

You brought their check.

“Actually, can we get one more thing?” The boy asked then pointed a gun at you and cocked back the hammer. “Empty the register for us.”

You froze, your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest. The other two boys produced guns from their hoodies. One fired a shot at the ceiling, sending the dinner into panicked screams. The blue-eye blue climbed up on the table and fired another shot while one of the other boys pointed his gun at you. You shakily raised your hands in the air, feeling tears build in your eyes.

“Stay calm. We’re not here to hurt anybody,” The boy announced. “We just want a few things then we’ll be on our way.”

One of the other boys went to the kitchen while the other grabbed your arm and yanked you toward the register.

“Open it,” He demanded in a gruff voice, pointing the gun directly at your head.

You took a shuttering breath, your hands shaking as you opened the register. Once opened, the boy pointing the gun at you shoved you aside and stuffed the money from the register into his kangaroo pouch. When the register was empty, he shoved you out from behind the bar, back with the few customers in the dinner. The blue eye boy jumped down from the table in front of you. He smirked at your terrified face then heard the cock of a gun behind him.

He whipped around and yanked you in front of him, using you as a human shield with his gun against your head. Pete stared down the boy, holding a gun with steady hands.

“Let them go,” Pete growled.

“Looks like we got a hero!” The boy called sarcastically. “Sit back down, wannabe. You’re gonna get someone killed.”

He pressed the gun harder into your head. You whimpered at the pressure. Pete’s eyes flicked to yours for a moment.

“Let them go,” Pete demanded again.

“Not gonna happen, so why don’t you,” The boy gestured to him with the gun. “Sit your happy ass back down before we spray,” He glanced at your name tag. “Y/N’s brains all over this shitty dinner.”

Pete quirked an eyebrow then shot the gunman holding you. You screamed at his brain exploded then Pete tackled you before the other gunman, still behind the bar shot you. He used his body as a human shield over you until the firing stopped. While the gunman reloaded, Pete kicked over a table and pulled you behind it. Your heart was pounding, tears streaming down your face as you gasped for breath. Pete grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, look at me. Breath. You’re okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” He used his thumbs to wipe your face. “Listen to me, okay? We're getting out of here, together.”

You nodded, still scared out of your mind, but felt marginally better, knowing Pete was protecting you. He grabbed his gun again and poked his head over the table, waiting for the gunman to pop up. Right as he did, Pete took one shot. Two down, one left.

Pete stood up, but you grabbed his jacket.

“Where are you going?!” You asked nervously, your fingers curling into his jacket.

“I’ll be right back,” He promised. “Don’t worry.”

Pete hopped over the knocked down table then went into the kitchen where the last gunmen went. You curled your knees to your chest, your hands over your head. From the kitchen you heard another gunshot then someone walked back out. Your mind assumed the worse. Pete got shot. Oh my gosh, Pete was dead and now they are coming to kill you because they know it’s your fault. Pete was dead, Pete was dead, Pete was dead, Petewasdead--

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see Pete standing over you. Before you registered what you were doing, you leaped up and jumped on Pete, wrapping your arms around him. He tensed for a moment, then hugged you back.

“Is it over?” You asked.

“It’s over,” He promised, squeezing you tight. “I will always protect you.”

The ending felt a little rushed but I hope you enjoyed!

I have another request in my inbox and one request I started writing and seemed to have forgotten about. Once I answer the other request, I'll finish the Spiderman one I never finished.

Let me know what you think!

#did i write in a boy's name who i got a really shitty date from #pft #no #i would never #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #kind of???#the punisher x reader #pete #i can't remember his fake last name #marvel imagines #marvel request #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher fanfiction #writing

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knives-and-lint · 5 years

Text

27 (Brakebills South)

“I was a goose!”

It's the first thing Quentin says when he sees her, eyes still alight with the sensation. The feeling of being in the air, and how everything seemed to fit just right.

“We all were dumb ass,” Penny detracts with a roll of his eyes. “Is everything magic like an amusement park ride to you?”

Quentin looks down at his feet, and Julia shoots Penny a scowl, mirrored by Alice who was standing next to Q when she entered the room. He just glares back at the pair, and does a quick assessment of their numbers.

“Where's Kady?” he asks.

Julia quickly looks away. The reverberation of her assigned partner's utmost truth still shaking her conscious and nerves. How the girl ran off the second her ropes fell off, though Julia didn't give chase, quickly turning to the bird that brought her here. However, she's pretty sure Kady made it down here, seeing her just a moment before the TA whisked a separate faction of students off into the library.

“She got placed into a different group,” she answers, then lies. “I don't know why.”

Fingernails involuntarily scratch at her wrists, knowing that if the trial had still been going on, the ropes would have remained. Quickly she lifts a hand to brush some hair from Quentin's face, if only to busy them so the itch doesn't persist.

“Weird,” Penny comments, but doesn't press.

Alice clears her throat, catching Julia's attention as intended, who looks to her with a curious eyebrow arched.

“Hey,” she offers shyly. “About Quentin and I's transcendence-”

Julia shakes her head, not wanting to know, while Quentin looks on in a panic.

“That's between the two of you,” she states. “Whole point of the exercise right?”

“Yeah,” Alice agrees. “But it still feels odd. Sharing an absolute truth, yet somehow keeping it from someone else?

Julia thinks of Kady.

“Sometimes magic is mean.”

Quentin is not asleep when Julia slips into his room, though he looks reluctant for her company, automatically assuming Mayakovsky would frown on such cohabitation. To which she just laughs, and nudges him to make room for her, which he does without further prodding.

“I don't think he cares much about anything,” she comments. “Besides magic. Even if it comes off like he hates that too.”

She snuggles into Quentin's chest, smiling as his arms wrap around her.

“If you hadn't noticed, I've gotten pretty used to sharing a bed with you. Also, it's fucking freezing here.”

Quentin chuckles softly.

“How is this our lives?” he asks. “I mean, we turned into geese and flew to Antarctica.”

Sometimes Julia wonders the same thing. That one day she'll wake up and it will all have been some crazy dream after smoking too much pot, and downing half a bottle of scotch.

“Worry not, Martin,” she replies in a bad English accent. “Magic is nothing to be feared if channeled properly.”

Quentin kisses the top of her head.

“Of course you're right Jane,” comes his reply in an accent just as terrible. “As always.”

Mayakovsky reminds Julia of the Econ 101 professor she had freshman year. Where arrogance and attitude meant as teaching tools, while infuriating and outdated, somehow seem to produce the results they're meant to.

Twist is, the Russian madman as other students call him, has no qualms about getting personal. One such incident, after spelling the word 'DICK' with his nails, results in Quentin getting a smack across the face. Julia storms across the hall, quick to assess the damage, and the act is like chum in the water to the shark in the shape of their teacher.

“You have got to be kidding,” he bemoans in that thick accent. “You? Her?”

Of course neither of them has a voice in which to defend themselves, merely taking his judgment in silence.

“Why am I bothering to teach you?” A question aimed at Quentin. “When you already have enough magic in your dick to land girl so clearly out of your league?”

An insult hurled within earshot of Alice who, once they get their voices back, tries again to tell Julia of she and Quentin's shared truth.

“It was about you,” she insists off Julia's initial rebuff.

The statement does give her pause. Because while honestly curious about whatever it was that freed the ropes and led them here, she had assumed it related to Quentin's clinical depression and self doubt, but nothing more.

“He knows you love him,” Alice states, with a small hitch in her voice that catches Julia's attention. “But he is always afraid, that the part of his brain refusing to let him believe it, will finally make you realize you are too good for him. That you always were.”

Tears quickly well in Julia's eyes.

“Yeah,” she sighs gruffly. “Doesn't fucking help that everyone else seems to question it too.”

“I don't,” Alice gives softly.

Julia smiles.

“Thanks, Al.”

“What the hell is this?”

Penny comes storming toward her, waving around a piece of paper, with fire in his eyes. Julia stands her ground as he approaches, stopping only to tower over her a moment, then quickly steps back expecting an answer.

Julia's eyes shoot down to the piece of paper, then back up to his, head tilted with an unasked question that is glaringly obvious.

“It's from Kady,” he clarifies. “Talking about how she's a liar, and a thief. It's why she got separated from us when she got here. Mayakovsky knew something was up with her. She's sorry, but she was just using me, and can't do it anymore.”

Julia still isn't sure what any of it has to do with her.

“Penny,” she starts. “I don't-”

He lifts the note toward her, though it's difficult to read still clenched in his hand, she can see her name in one of the sentences.

“She made sure to apologize to you too,” he states flatly. “For airing out her shit and knowing you couldn't say anything about it. Except that...”

He pauses a moment.

“Except that you could, couldn't you? Part of the challenge was baring ourselves to someone, but nowhere in the text did it say you had to take the truth to your grave. You could have given me a heads up! You could have...” He trails off again.

“Hey,” she begins, reaching out a hand, then thinks better of it. “She didn't say anything about using you. Just the part about being a liar. And a thief. That she comes from hedge witches, and part of her will always be ashamed of it. The ropes must have thought that was enough, because she never mentioned you at all.”

Penny doesn't say anything off that, just maintains eye contact, though his glare has softened slightly.

“What did she steal?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Clearly the lying was about being a thief, but what did she steal?”

Julia shrugs.

“Stuff from Brakebills? Books and spells. For some Hedge named Marina, who has Kady's mother under her boot.”

Penny's anger flares up again.

“And you didn't say anything?”

“It wasn't my truth to tell,” Julia defends.

He breathes sharply from his nose.

“Then what is?”

“Huh?”

“Your truth,” he goes on. “The one you told to get the ropes off. I'm pretty pissed and vulnerable right now, Julia. But maybe if you... If you told me I'd-”

“I'm terrified,” Julia interrupts.

“What?”

“Of magic,” she continues. “Well, not of magic. I love it, now that I know it's real. Like this wonderful drug that seeped into my veins and I can never let go. I love it so much I'm terrified of who I would be without it.”

Penny doesn't fully understand.

“My Dad is an alcoholic,” she goes on. “Drunk all day and night. So many stints in rehab, but nothing ever took. Until finally my Mom had him committed to where he'll never get out.”

Tears sting her eyes.

“That's my truth,” she says, quickly brushing past him. “I'm sorry about Kady.”

Penny doesn't call after her as she walks away, and Julia is glad for it.

“If you love him so much,” Mayakovsky chides. “Let him fail.”

Quentin is on the floor, passed out from one too many shocks off the electrified rings of the mind control test. Julia looks over her shoulder at the statement, confused as to how being concerned that he just got electrocuted has anything to do with his passing or failing the exercise.

“Are you girlfriend or den mother?” Mayakovsky asks. “Kinky either way. But you dote on floppy haired bunny too much. How is he to learn if you are always patting him on the back? Saying good job, little bun bun. Do not worry.”

Julia frowns.

“I don't-”

“You do!” he shouts, then points at the door. “Out!”

“What?”

“Get out,” he repeats. “Let bunny learn the hard way.”

Julia reluctantly leaves, just as Mayakovsky starts pouring vodka on Quentin's face, and casts a backward glance to Alice who nods without hesitation. She'll keep an eye on him now that Julia can't. However, she doesn't go far remaining just out of sight beyond the door frame, and smiles proudly five minutes later when Quentin shouts in triumph on completing the test.

“You should be a fox more often,” Julia murmurs against his chest, as her fingers tease across his ribs.

Quentin laughs but doesn't comment, having come in from the cold, practically sniffing her out and taking them straight to his room. It's a wonder she's even awake with all the energy expelled, but feels sated and happy, pressing a small kiss against his skin.

“What were you?” he asks. “I mean, your animal.”

Julia can still feel the air in her feathers, the sense of direction more focused than the goose form could ever hope to be, talons sharp and ready for whatever prey her magnificent eyes could focus on.

“A falcon,” she answers. “Streaking through the sky like I owned it. Like I knew my exact place and purpose within it.”

“Sounds amazing.”

She hums.

“It was. Also, I caught a fish. Spotted it from almost a mile up, then just dove right toward the water and got it.”

Quentin's fingers play with her hair.

“Thought I tasted sushi on your tongue,” he teases.

Julia laughs, but swats at him playfully.

“Shut up,” she says.

Quentin's hand stops, and she shifts her head to meet his eyes, which are alight with the animal that has yet to fade.

“Make me,” he challenges.

Then they're kissing again, and going for round number four.

The door in Mayakovsky's office opens to reveal Brakebills on the other side, which Penny files through quickly, followed by Alice. Quentin and Julia are about to step through when Maykovsky stops them both.

“There is one more thing I give you,” he says, eyes flicking between them. “Your life's purpose.”

They briefly share a look, before turning back to him.

“Prove me wrong,” he states, pointing at finger at them with each word uttered. “With your love. Never give a fuck what drunk bastard like me thinks about your relationship. What anyone thinks. Then in fifty years, come back with your perfect family and gloat over my frozen corpse.”

Julia takes Quentin's hand, but this just makes Mayakovsky roll his eyes.

“Out,” he says, pointing at the door. “Before you make me sick.”

Julia smiles at him.

“You're an asshole,” she says. “But a really good teacher.”

Mayakovsky takes a big dramatic swig off his bottle.

“I know.”

#Coldwicker #Qulia #The Magicians #timeline 27 #ficlet

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