#luckily i'm on a school break so i found some time to answer this!

[venusloverblue]

Sky blue eyes

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!reader

words count: + 4k

summary: You become friends with Max, this means that you get to know Billy better

warnings: Steve Harrington!mean, little angst, fluff, mild sexual mentions, I think that's it all, tell me if I'm missing anything else

a/n: Hi!! I hope you are well, this is my first fanfic in my life. I hope you like it and if you have any criticism, let it be constructive. English is not a first language so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry!!!

For a long time you thought that love was not going to be present in your teenage life, you thought that the romance in the movies was exclusively for the movies and that it did not extend to the real world. Plus you took it for granted that you were never going to fall in love and that no one was going to fall in love with you.

Everyone knew who your brother was, when they talked about you they referred to you as Harrington's little sister and not your first name. It was difficult at first for you to live in the shadow of your older brother, but over the years your skin had turned iron and those comments no longer affect you like before.

It is because of all this that your life had become very simple and boring, you did not have as many friends as you wanted, but at least you had people to take refuge with when you needed it, among them were Nancy and Jonathan, although their love for each other made you feel a little alone, they were always there to give you their unconditional support and their shoulders to cry on.

It was quite common for you to be crying in the bathrooms along with Nancy, this case was because some of the more popular kids had played a prank on you at lunch. They thought that bathing you with their drinks was something that everyone would find very funny and they were not wrong because a large part of the dining room began to laugh as if they had just told the best joke of their lives. That's why you came out with your head held high and when nothing saw you, you started running towards the women's bathrooms.

While you were crying and washing your face you didn't realize that Nancy had rushed in to comfort and help you. A few minutes after helping you and calming you down, you break the silence that had existed since she found you in the bathrooms.

"I don't understand what's wrong with them, I've never done anything to them and they always try to humiliate me in front of everyone" you say while looking at Nancy searching for an answer that could help you cope with the situation.

She sighs, searching for the right words, finally finding them. "I would love to know why they do this to you, I would also like to know why your brother doesn't do anything about it" She says with a tone of hatred towards my brother.

"You know how he is, he would never fight for me with his friends, that's why they do this to me"

"It doesn't mean that you can't get angry with him, you should say something to him when you're home." Before you can answer, someone knocks on the bathroom door.

"Girls, are you okay?" Jonathan's unmistakable voice is heard, he must have come as quickly as he can after finding out what happened in the dining room.

Nancy tells him that we are fine and that we will see him after school, which ends the conversation that the two of you were having before he interrupted you.

★

When the exit bell rings, everyone quickly leaves their classrooms to get home as soon as possible and to rest properly, since it is Friday, many must be in a hurry to prepare for a party at the house of some of the popular ones, luckily this weekend is not yours.

You are one of the last to leave, that is why your friends are waiting for you to say goodbye or make some plans in the next few days, as you get closer you hear how some of the popular ones point at you and laugh at you, because your clothes were stained by the drinks some of them threw, you decide to ignore them and continue walking to reach Nancy and Jonathan.

After having talked for a few minutes we decide that we will call each other to see if we can arrange an outing, with that they say goodbye and you walk home, since obviously Steve was not going to risk his reputation by taking you in his car.

After walking for a while you come across a girl of about 13 years old riding her skateboard, her reddish hair being blown back by the air that hits her face while she is moving. It seems strange to you that she is alone so you decide to run as close as possible.

"Hey girl, are you alone?" When you ask her the question, the girl stops suddenly, when she turns to look at you, her features relax and that's when she starts talking.

"Yes, my brother sent me home on the skateboard because I left him waiting after school" She says as if it were something unimportant.

When you hear that I can't believe it, how is it possible that her brother is so cold? That's when you remember that your brother is the same as you and you feel more sorry for the girl.

"Well, you weren't the only one, my brother never took me in his car since it was given to him" You tell the girl that so she doesn't feel so alone because of her brother.

Her face wrinkles in disgust and then changes to a grimace of annoyance. "I don't understand why older brothers are always so stupid." That's when she decides to roll his eyes.

"Yes, they are stupid"

★

After that unexpected meeting, you and Max become kind of friends, causing you to accompany her to her house every day and then go to yours. It was really very fun to spend time with her, she was a very sweet girl who preferred to cover that sweetness with rudeness although she didn't completely succeed.

For several weeks it becomes part of your routine until one day it ends.

While you were waiting for Max outside school, you found out from one of her classmates that she was sick and that they needed someone to deliver her homework. That's why you volunteered since the route to your house would take you to passed by Max's house. With that the children thank you and say goodbye to go, get their bikes and leave.

When you're walking to Max's house you hope you don't run into his brother, Billy Hargrove. In the weeks that you became friends with Max you found out who his brother was, you would never have guessed since they didn't look alike at all, then you found out that they are actually not brothers but stepbrothers. But in the same way your nerves did not dissipate, Billy was known for having a rather strong temper and also for having little patience, you did not like the combination at all. You didn't want him to get mad at you for being at his house and then decide to get revenge for it at school, just thinking about it gives you chills.

But still that didn't stop you from going to Max's house, she was your friend and she needed to keep up with school regardless of whether she liked her brother or not.

When you got home the nerves were present again and you didn't really know what to do, and seeing the Camaro on the driveway from the garage sends a chill down your spine. You decided to shake yourself to erase any drop of fear regarding Billy, he was not a monster, he was a boy the same age as your brother, with that you relaxed a little, giving yourself the courage to go knock on the door.

You waited a few seconds before someone answered, when the door opened you were greeted by a completely sweaty Billy with a muscular shirt that revealed his physique. You may have liked Billy, but you couldn't deny the attractiveness he possessed and why all the girls were crazy about him.

"Who are you and what are you doing at my door?" The question snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back to real life with Billy scowling at your presence.

"Hello, I'm Max's friend, I came to bring her her homework because she is sick" You stay silent for a few seconds and then add. "Hers classmates asked me to give it to her."

Before Billy answered, a slightly hoarse voice was heard behind him. "Hello, sorry I went to school today, mom made me stay in bed" Max says while pushing hers brother a little so he can see me.

"Hello Max, don't worry, it's best that you recover as soon as possible. I have your homework here, I can bring it again tomorrow if you need it."

"I appreciate it, I won't be able to go for a few days" She says with a little sadness.

“Don't be sad, the most important thing now is that you recover as soon as possible. Plus I need my travel companion to be very healthy to come home on time every day, right?” With that the girl nods quickly with a big smile, agreeing with you. “Okay, I'm going home now, I'll bring your homework at the same time tomorrow.” When you say that, you turn around and walk through the Hargroves' front yard while waving goodbye to Max.

★

The next three days you continue going to Max's house to leave hers homework and the one who opens the door is always Billy with his frown, you don't pay much interest to the subject since it's probably not something personal but he is like that with everyone and not only with you. But that doesn't mean that that attitude doesn't bother you.

It's already the fifth day that Max is sick, so you repeat the same process already done the previous four days, but this time you have an obstacle to overcome and that is Billy Hargrove. When you were about to cross the street, a blue Camaro with the windows down stopped in front of you and inside was the boy with sky blue eyes.

“Are you going to my house?” He asks with a tired tone.

“Yes, going to leave Max's homework.” You are surprised that the new and now popular boy is talking to you. You thought you were a nuisance to him, not a person he wanted to talk to.

“Get in and I'll take you, I don't want you to interrupt me again like you did all week.”

You hesitate at first, you don't think it's appropriate to get on since you completely like him, you also know that someone will see you and rumors are generated regarding our relationship, which is completely non-existent. A few seconds pass before you end up accepting, it's not like they saw you having any approach that would imply that you were dating or something like that.

You get into the camaro and shortly after you have closed the door the vehicle takes off at great speed. You get scared at first, but you end up getting used to the speed.

“So you're the one who accompanies my sister home, at first I thought it was a miracle to return alone, but then I began to suspect” He looks at you for a few seconds and then looks back at the road.

“Yes, I saw her for the first time when she was returning on her skateboard and I thought it was better that I accompany her to make sure nothing happens to her.” You say that with the intention of making her realize what an idiot he is for letting her leave on her own, but it seems that he does not give it importance or does not realize it.

“Well, thanks for that” He says that and then adds. “I wouldn't like to imagine what I would do if something happened to Max.”

“I understand, but you could also wait a little longer when you leave school. I know you don't like to wait, but she is a girl and she shouldn't come back alone on her skateboard” You say and then add. “You never know what can happen out there.”

Without realizing it, you are already at the door of his house. When he finishes parking, he turns to you and with a face that shows much more than you thought you would ever see from Billy in your life, he decides to tell you. “Believe me, I know.”

★

It's been weeks since the last time Billy took you to his house so you could hand in hers homework to Max and although you don't like to admit it, you still think about the short conversation you had in his cabin. You saw some guilt in him along with remorse for not being able to do something. At some moments you think that you imagined it, but you know that it is a way of lying to yourself, he in some sense is honest with you.

Your thoughts about Billy are interrupted by the bell that announces the end of classes, you quickly leave with your classmates. When you are already at the main exit of the high school, you see some of the popular kids laughing in a way that makes you understand that they are planning something that you would not like to know about.

It is when you are passing a few meters near them that you feel how they are getting you wet, by the time you realize you are soaked from head to toe, you don't know where to go so they stop laughing and meanwhile you curse yourself for having chosen a white shirt that shows through your bra

Everyone around you laughs, you even see Steve being one of those who finds the joke very funny. Everything is laughter until you hear how someone is hit, causing the laughter to turn into screams of horror on the part of the girls and hatred on the part of the boys. You turn around to see where all the commotion is coming from and find Billy straddling one of the boys who decided to get all wet.

You try to get closer, but a hand grabs your arm and you see it's Max. “It's better that you don't come closer, let's go to the car and wait for him to finish all this.”

You hesitate for a moment, but end up agreeing with her. So you go with the girl to the car, but for a moment you turn around to see how Billy is doing and just at that moment your eyes meet so that in a second they are lost again.

★

It takes a little over 30 minutes for Billy to return and get into the car. You are in the passenger seat and that allows you to observe in detail that he did not come out of that fight completely unscathed. His lower lip is split, his cheeks have some scratches and his clothes are a little dirty from rolling on the floor.

Before you can break the silence, Max comes out from the back to poke hers head between the front seats. “Did you give those idiots the beating they deserved?”

“Max!” You say quickly after the girl's comment. “Don't say those kinds of words.”

The girl ignores you and the older brother does the same. “Yes, I gave them shit to eat, don't worry” He says while looking in the rearview mirror, then he turns a little towards you. "Are you okay?"

When you listen to him he sounds like he is really concerned and will care about your well-being. “Yes, it was just a little water, I'm fine” You say a little embarrassed by so much interest on his part.

“Okay, then I'll take you home” And with that he tears off his blue Camaro just like his eyes.

★

Obviously, you end up getting sick since the idiots got you wet in November. That caused you to now be in bed for a whole week. Luckily you had Nancy, who came to visit you whenever she could after school and told you all the new things. That was your favorite source of entertainment, then you had to watch movies or read a book, it was clear that doing homework was not on the list of entertainment but torture.

But besides that, you also took the time to think about what Billy did for you. You never thought anyone would do that for you in your life, least of all the great Billy Hargrove. Thinking about how he looked in his cabin after the fight caused your cheeks to turn pink and your body temperature to rise. From the beginning you blamed the cold, but you knew very well that that was a lie and a pretty big one.

You continued with your sick routine until Wednesday, the day your brother walked through your bedroom door looking to talk. You thought he was going to talk about how Billy defended you and then drove you home in his truck, but he actually surprised you with an apology.

“I come to apologize to you for everything that happened.” Look at a fixed point on the ground. “I know that I am not the best brother of all and that what I did to you does not deserve any kind of forgiveness, but believe me, I am very sorry. The jokes, the contempt, the ignoring you are things you don't deserve, you are a great sister to me and I return all that to you with pure shit."

You don't know what to say so he took advantage of it to continue. “I understand if you don't want my forgiveness, but I think I need you to know that I don't want anything bad to happen to you. The last joke was my breaking point."

“But you laughed Steve, I saw how you laughed” You say with a voice that was about to break.

“I know, you don't know how rubbish and shit I feel” After a few seconds he looks up at you. “I swear I want to go back in time and change the things I did to you.”

“I understand, but you have to know that it will take a lot to forgive you.” You say, determined that you will not let him have the easy way.

With that he gets up and leaves your room in silent.

★

Two days after the episode you had with Steve, while you are watching a movie that is being played on code, your mother enters in your room and tells you that a classmate of yours came to bring your homework. At first it seemed strange to you since Nancy was the one who always brought your homework, that generated great curiosity in you and you told your mother to let it go.

That's when you see Billy enter your room in his jeans and jean jacket. For a moment you thought it was all a dream and that you were about to wake up shortly, but fortunately none of that was an invention of your brain and subconscious. Luckily you woke up from that daydream before he thought you were a complete weirdo.

“Billy, what a surprise, I didn't expect you to come to my house.”

“Yes, well, Nancy please me to bring since she wasn't going to be able to come today” He says while handing you the papers where the homework was.

“I'm sick, but I'm not stupid, for nothing in this world would Nancy ask you a favor” With that you make Billy smile and you don't know why, but your stomach begins to secrete butterflies that leave you totally confused.

“You caught me, I asked her if I could bring your homework. At first she refused, but after I told her why I wanted to bring it, she gave it to me.”

“And it may be curious, but why did you want to bring me my homework?” You expected any answer except the one he actually gave you.

“Because I wanted to come see you and this was the best excuse I could find” With that his eyes meet yours and your cheeks instantly turn reddish.

★

After that your friendship with the Hargrove brothers strengthened, now every day after school you went to Billy's blue camaro so that he would then stop at his house to drop Max off and then go to your house to drop you off. It really was a dynamic that you liked, but that didn't just stop there, every time you passed Billy in the hallways he would greet you with his smile and blue eyes, the first few times it threw you off, but it was a matter of time before you customs

The weeks continued to pass and your relationship with Billy was taking shape, it is true that at the beginning you were connected by Max, but some days the red-haired girl went to her friends' house to do projects causing you to have to return together in the car. he. One of those days you saw that Billy was feeling a little strange, you thought a lot about asking him what was wrong, but then you thought about it and you preferred to leave it because you felt that your friendship was not at the level of telling each other how the other felt.

We entered the cabin and after a few minutes the boy decided to break the silence. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, is something bad happening?”

For a moment he hesitates, but it lasts a second before he begins to speak. “The truth is that I don't have the best relationship with my father, he is someone I don't like dealing with at all” Take a moment and continue. “He hits me, every time I do something wrong he hits me, especially when something happens with Max, he takes it out on me. That's why sometimes I act like a jerk around her and believe me I don't want to. But the anger that being hit by him generates in me I have to take out on someone else and it's always on some guy at a party or on Max.”

You have no idea what to say, that's why Billy decides to continue. “I know that none of this justifies my behavior, I know that. But I needed to tell someone, I couldn't live with this in me, you know?”

You didn't say anything, you didn't expect this kind of confession from Billy at all, you always found him to be a tough boy who didn't let anything or anyone get in his way, but it seems that appearances can be very deceiving. “I'm so sorry Billy, you don't deserve this to happen to you, I can't imagine how difficult this situation must be for you.”

You stay silent for a second, searching for the right words. “I'm glad I'm your trusted person to tell me this.”

“Believe it or not, you are one of the few people I can trust” That ends the conversation.

★

Saturday night, you are alone at home since your parents are traveling and your brother is out partying, that leaves you as the owner of the house and that means that you will use that power to watch romantic movies in the living room.

You are currently watching Sixteen Candles, one of your favorites. You don't know how many times you've seen it, but you're sure it's more than ten. When you are halfway through the movie you hear someone knocking on the back door, the moment you look there you almost lose the soul of your body. It was Billy and all his clothes were bloody. You moved as fast as you could in your state of shock. When the door opened Billy walked into your kitchen as if nothing was wrong.

“Billy, what the fuck happened to you?!” You can hear the desperation and worry in your voice.

“Don't worry, baby, I feel totally fine” When you can see how he slurs his words a little, that's when you get closer and feel the smell of alcohol that comes off.

“Billy, you reek of alcohol, how the hell did you get here? I hope you don't tell me by car."

He remains silent answering your question.

Already irritated with the situation, you send Billy to sit on the couch and wait for you to bring him some ice along with the first aid kit. You didn't understand why he had decided to come to your house in that state, but it seems like he reads minds as he answers your question.

“I came here because I had nowhere else to go. Besides, I like you."

With that confession you go blank, obviously you liked him too. The relationship he had formed as a friend had become something more meaningful to you without him knowing. You thought it was all due to alcohol, it was impossible for someone like him to like you, it was pure logic.

That's why you decided to ignore him and preferred to focus on healing his wounds. You could see that he had gotten into a pretty nasty fight, but luckily it was all superficial and nothing very serious.

“I love that you are so close to me, I would love to kiss you right now, lots and lots of kisses” You couldn't deny that it gave you a little tenderness, seeing a boy as tough as Billy talking like that made your butterflies wake up.

“You're very drunk now, it's best that you go to my room to sleep so my brother doesn't see you when you come back.” As you say it, you stop to start picking up the big man with sea eyes.

“You want us to go to your room so I can do everything to you that I've been thinking about since we met, then I'm the pervert.”

You laugh a little, but you know very well that it is to hide what you really feel and it is an infernal heat between your legs. You don't understand how someone can make a room turn into a giant-sized oven.

After leaving Billy in your bed, you prepare a mattress on the floor so you can sleep next to him in case he wakes up not knowing where he is. You lock your room in case your brother decides to check on you even though you thought it unlikely. The moment your head hits the pillow you are already in dreamland dreaming about Billy Hargrove kissing you.

★

The light coming through the window wakes you up, you don't really know what time it is, but you assume it's very early on a Sunday. When your eyes are fully open, a hoarse voice surprises you.

“Good morning baby, did you sleep well?” With that, a rather misaligned Billy greets you, but that smile makes you fall in love in a thousand ways. “Thank you for yesterday, you could have kicked me out, but you decided to help me.”

“It's nothing, I couldn't just leave you like this.”

There was silence before Billy decided to drop his bomb. “I know yesterday I said I liked you” You were expecting it to be worded like any other. “And I wasn't lying, I really like you.”

With that, sleep completely disappears from your body, causing you to sit in bed quickly. “If you are saying this because I help you, you should know that I don't need it, I don't need your pity.”

“Baby, I am many things, but a liar is not one of them. I really like you and I must admit, I know it may seem false, but it's the truth. After sharing all those moments my feelings towards you became deeper” A second later he adds. “Plus I love how your butt fits perfectly in each pair of jeans.”

With that you approach Billy to plant a kiss that seeks to encompass everything about him, he follows you in search of the same. At that moment your feelings are expressed through that passionate kiss. No words are needed for your love, just this type of connection is enough. Something that makes us feel special, unique and different from the rest.

When you separate you dive into the eyes of your lover, sky blue eyes.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #harrigton!reader #light angst #billy hargrove x female reader

[soranihimawari]

Take a Break

word count: tbd

pairing: unofficially coupled: nanami x reader

rating: angst/sad ending

notes: this occurs the night of the Shibuya Incident (teehee... ;-;)

Sometimes, taking a break helps to clear your mind. A coffee break for some may be the answer to see things clearly in a meeting later on. Lunch breaks are usually reserved for office gossip and or catching up on tasks which needed to be completed by the end of the day. Regardless, here you were minding your business as you clicked save one last time.

Earlier during your shift, you decude to text an old friend of yours from high school. Surely both of you have since decided your career paths: you went on to go to a good university and get a degree in finance; your classmate decided to stay ultra part time in a different department of the business while still remaining a teacher on the downlow. You sighed as you clock out and look at the date on your phone. You knew there would be a long wait for the trains to Shibuya, the part of the city where you and your friend were to meet.

Tonight was a night to be remembered as those around you in the rain come and go as you travel from one side to the other. Your phone lights up with a croissant emoji next to your friend's name dance across your smart phone.

"Nanami?" you answer a bit perplexed. You can hear him running. Running means something was wrong. Very wrong with how he breathes your name in the speaker. "What do you mean don't come? I'm already on my way?"

The train comes to a grinding halt and you jut forward. He hangs up with a warning to be prepared, so here you thought as the trains clear out, you are aghast as are the other passengers of the bloodshed around the underground stop.

"No wonder Kento told me to be prepared," you mumble as you prepare to work some overtime.

Luckily for you, you are able to gain your senses as you choose to leave behind your suitcase on the subway train. You pull out a machete from the back of your pants suit and when you see a monstrous curse, you slash through it with zero hesistation.

You slash away floor after floor, charging as best you can with the spare cursed energy you have bottled up. You finally reach the floor your phone reads as Nanami's location.

"Min!" you call out and he turns to see you. Blonde hair dramatically swishing in the air as he jogs toward you. You are withihn arm's reach and he holds your hand and tells you to run, you keep up.

"Kento," you huff his name as he pulls you into the next corner. "Was tonight the night you need back-up?"

"Mmhm," he covers you with his body and you rest your machete on the side by your leg. "You made it out ok."

"Yeah," you smirk. "I had to keep my night open because this classmate of mind needed some help. Or a drink."

Nanami sometimes is a mostly serious man, but for you, he smiles with sincerity. He holds his knife and he laces his fingers with yours and he commands you stay still.

"We'll go drinking as soon as this mission's over," he says like it's a promise he intends to keep no matter what.

So, when your bodies are eventually found the morning after the Shibuya Incident, an old friend with jet black hair (dressed in a preistly kimono) raises a bottle of whiskey for you both to enjoy in the afterlife.

#sora after hours #nanami x reader #nanami angst

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>7<

Learning that day went exceptionally well. However, mathematics was less problematic if the topics were properly arranged. She was shutting down trigonometry when the phone rang. Didn't know the number. She picked up.

- Yes?

- Hanabi-sama, is this you? Kizaki's here. - he introduced himself.

- Did something happen? - she worried.

- No, I'm calling to ask, if you have time for short meeting? - the man answered.

- Well...yes, in fact yes. - she replied after some thought. - Even now.

- Lovely. So I suggest a cafe two blocks from your house, I'll send you the address. See you soon.

- Of course, goodbye.

A strange situation. Kaoru's right-hand man hadn't been seen very often, but she had always known he was in the vicinity. When he had the opportunity, he watched her closely. She guessed he didn't really trust her. Not surprisingly, though, he had looked after Hanayama since his father's death, a bit like ... a stepfather who didn't hang out with his mother. Always loyal and faithful. He had contacted on behalf of his boss?? Kaoru usually called himself if he wanted something. Hanabi didn't know what to expect or what nature the meeting would be, so she opted for the safest outfit she could find in the closet - straight jeans, tied brogues, and a blue polka dot shirt. She found the indicated place without difficulty. She thought they would choose the more hidden ... but in fact, the darkest under the lantern. He was alone, sitting in the armchair in the corner. As always, in a dark, classic suit with smoothly combed hair. She bowed slightly and sat down opposite him. The waitress in a flowing dress flew towards them. She ordered green tea, he ordered black coffee. He adjusted the dark tie on his white shirt. The gold pin belonging to the Hanayama and Fujiki group flashed.

- You may wonder why I invited you, Hanabi-sama. - he spoke to her respectfully as always, almost as if she were a member of the Hanayama family. - I wanted to talk privately ... and most of all, thank you for your help.

-You're welcome. - she sighed, remembering the very early morning she had spent changing bandages. - No problem.

- Honestly, I was more than skeptical of your presence in the boss's life. - Maybe I was wrong, but... - He paused for a moment, sighing. - ... I would like to know why you agreed to a relationship with him?

She thought for a moment. Exactly... why? What did she get from it? How did she feel about him? She never wondered before. At that time, it was a balance of losses and gains, rather on a life or death level. Or maybe more the desire to satisfy curiosity and fill a hole in life. And now? It was better? Worse? Same? Something has changed?

- In a way, I think it should be so. I feel like I'm in my place. - she replied completely honestly. - I want to protect and support Kaoru as much as I can.

- You love him, Hanabi-sama?

- I don't know ... but it doesn't change anything for me. - she murmured, sipping her tea and looking at him. - I know you've done a lot for Kaoru, Kizaki-san. I see it, you care a lot about him... thank you.

He looked as if a heavy stone had fallen from his heart. She was glad about it, especially since everything she said was completely honest and true. There was no point in the lies. By saying goodbye to Kizaki, she could say with certainty that he was pleased with the results of their conversation. She also.

The days at school were spent on feverish preparations for exams and allegedly catching up on material that they allegedly did not manage to finish on time. Everyone was nervous to the limit, luckily there were some breaks. Most of them turned even harder, also devoting their free time to discussing the results, hard work, stress ... Hanabi friends - no. They had more interesting topics, happiness in misfortune, about her life. Four girls surrounded her tightly so that she could not move. So she sat and slowly ate the contents of her bento*. That day she made an omelette, a few onigiris with adzuki beans, tempura shrimp, a piece of smoked fish, steamed vegetables and a separate box of fruit salad. She hoped that by stuffing her mouth with food she would be relieved of most responses, unfortunately it might not be enough for the entire break.

- Come on, Hanabi, tell us! - the short haired brown haired girl hissed conspiratorially. - We are dying of curiosity!

Madoka, as usual, did not play half measures. Not for her conventions or politeness. If she wanted to know something, she hit without pradon. She adjusted the hairpin with a red bow that fell gently from the side bangs. Next to her, resting her arms on the bench top, stood the blonde Shiori. She flashed her glasses, which concealed the perfectly azure irises. Junko's face was visible in the reflection of the glass. Black-haired, with two long ponytails falling over the bottle-green uniform. The fourth, Misaki, was lurking to steal a piece of melon from the box, tugging her dark hair behind her ear.

- I don't understand what you're saying. - Hanabi muttered, loading a large piece of fried egg into her mouth.

- But you love to play dumb! - Shiori laughed. - How's your juicy, platonic romance with a handsome married man?

Correction. Half of her friends' population did not lack courage. She sighed, looking at them.

- I never said he's married. Except... sort of. Eh, long story. - She waved her hand, leaning her back. - And not platonic at all, but quite real, as it turns out, if a little confusing.

She heard a muffled, loud sigh around her. They blown in with the impression. Well, they said to tell him and everything, so it turned out that she listened to them. She rubbed the space between her eyes with two fingers. Probably never learn the wise revealing information in the private space. Maybe she should still behave ... as in "work"? But wouldn't it sound suspicious then? Inhale, exhale. Take it easy, the break is always over.

- Oh, don't keep us in suspense! - Misaki said, her mouth full of melons. - How is he? Have you kissed? He knows your father?

Will they consider her a slut if she admits that she jumped into his bed barely knowing him? Probably so ... What if she says that seeing him for the third time, she became his girlfriend? It can be passed. Or that she sucked him BY OWN WILL in his grandfather's house? What if she tell them, that the guy they were chirping so sweetly about is the strongest yakuza, head of the mafia family, formally her father's boss? FUCK, how fucked up this is!

- Er ... well ... as if to think ... - she finally said, choosing the facts carefully. - ... He's cute, in his male way. Strong, caring ...

- Well, the KISSING?! - Madoka pressed. - And what does your father say?! He's conservative, isn't he?

Goro? Conservative? Guess he was just pretending to be one. In fact, when he saw her with friends, he would throw up standard parenting phrases like "you have to be home before 9pm!", Or "no boys!" Or "remember homework!" He behaved differently at home. Rather, he was like a good friend with whom she could watch a movie throwing popcorn, so much older, more mature, sometimes introducing a strange joke, but always open to hug her and explain things. Every now and then, he had some really shot ideas and she had to make an effort not to let him fly out of the apartment immediately to implement them. He had a passion for business, but also a hot head, which did not prevent him from raising her. He did not have an easy task, fortunately, as long as they lived together with the rest, her mother was replaced by her sisters in women's matters, so he did not have to talk about period, intercourse, fertilization, responsibility, contraception, changes in her body. She guessed that he would somehow manage, but then he would drink the stress away with a bottle of alcohol. Minimum one liter. Older girls did him with great joy, sparing no details, including whether it hurts, how it hurts, why it hurts, how to satisfy the man in the easiest way and at the same time also enjoy yourself. With Kaoru, she immediately had to revise everything she learned. The first time with him was completely different than she had expected. He took control of her, he knew what to do, and she completely drifted away. Just like talking to friends.

- HANABI! - Madoka nudged her.

- What? And ... this ... well ... we kissed once or twice ... - she said, blushing slightly at the memory of all the "blows". - It was amazing.

- And father? What about the father? - Junko asked.

- Dad likes him, they met at the very beginning, really. - she answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders.

- How did YOU actually meet each other? - Shiori interjected.

Damn! And what now? After all, she will not say that she hunted the largest bull in Japan, and then somehow it turned out: planetary system, storms on Jupiter, eruptions on the Sun and ... they are a couple! Fortunately, the conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bell and the teacher's express arrival. With a grunt of discontent, they scattered to take their places. She was saved.

>>><<<

Another anniversary was passing. As every year, all of the triad gathered at his grandfather's mansion to pay tribute to his father's heroic death. He remembered the day he left too well. His mother wouldn't let him go, she knew he wouldn't be back. He could even hit her as long as she got out of the way, and she was still stubbornly standing up. Kaoru chose to cut in, even though it was completely against the manners he was instilled in. Keizou incited him to use brute force. He didn't understand it at the time, today he was stating that Hanayama Sr. just wanted to be sure they could get along without him. Kaoru was able to rip his forearm apart, but that didn't stop his father. He left saying that the son was to take care of his mother and that he loved them both.

He didn't even notice how intuitively, even impulsively, he dialed the phone number while waiting for the ceremony to begin.

- Kaoru? - he heard in the receiver. - I thought that...

- Come on over. - he demanded. - I need you here.

- I ... you know very well I shouldn't. I don't officially belong to the family. I am... "from outside". - she muttered reluctantly. - I can come later if you still want to.

- As soon as it's all over ... I want you here.

She promised she would. He trusted that she wasn't lying. It was probably the first time he had felt the need for her company so desperately. It crossed his mind that she might have felt the same way the night she had called him.

>>><<<

She had no choice. If she wanted to reconcile her responsibilities and her promise, she had to take the books with her. She threw chemistry, physics, Japanese into her backpack, hoped she would find a moment to at least read some things. She zipped up a pleated skirt that draped over dark tights and a plum plum t-shirt. Slung her luggage over shoulder, slipped feet into brown high heels, and walked straight ahead to the residence of Fujiki's group head, Akita Taro. From the moment she stepped over the threshold, she felt the resolute hostess's eyes on her again. Well, the day was very important, and instead of wearing a traditional kimono, she wore a miniskirt. Again. She tried not to worry about it, after all, she was not officially invited to the anniversary celebration!

They sat on the inner terrace, listening to the rain falling. She sat confined between massive thighs, pressed against a muscular torso, reading advanced structural patterns. She was viewed sidelong in class, but she loved both chemistry and biology. If she were not who she was, would have soaked up the subject even more, probably becoming a doctor or something similar. And that she was who she was, she sat in the arms of terror and at the same time a model of manhood for the whole neighborhood, sipping green tea.

- I have always dreamed of the simplest normality. - he sighed.

- Sitting on the terrace, tea, homework ...? - she laughed lightly.

He nodded in agreement. He placed her legs on one of his, turning her sideways towards him. She had no time to react as he took the notebook out of her tiny hands. Hanabi loved it when he closed her in a hug, she could press face against his wide chest with the scent of expensive perfume.

- Never say you don't belong to the family. - he muttered directly into her ear. - YOU ARE a family for me.

It choked her. She had not expected such a confession after several months of acquaintance, especially from the yakuza boss. She stared with eyes as wide as saucers at that lovely scarred face, wondering what to say.

- It's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, Kaoru ... - she sighed, covering her mouth with hand.

- What would you say if I asked you to marry me? - he blurted out.

- I would say 'first I have to finish school'. - she muttered with a smile, brushing his cheek.

- Is it that important to you? - he whispered, closing his embrace even tighter.

- I just want to get over it. - she replied calmly, hiding between muscular shoulders, gently hugging his massive neck. - If you are serious about it, try after exams.

Guess she managed to mute the topic. He smiled. For the first time since his fight with Spec, she had seen this cute expression on his face. Both cheeks were adorned with two semicircular scars - souvenirs of the skin grafting operation. The surgeon did really well. Except for the inevitable scars, he looked like new. She might have guessed that nothing would ever come out of science. Not in his company. Usually, she waited for silent consent, she felt indefinite respect for him. This time it was different. She cupped his face gently and kissed him, completely ignoring Hanayama's bodyguards nearby. They could even shoot her in the temple, she wasn't afraid. She felt that if she had to die at that moment, would have died happy.

- There is something that interests me for some time. I heard your people talking. - she muttered, stepping back a little. - Is it true you hunted a shark?

- A complete coincidence ... - he replied calmly.

- I wish I had seen it. - she sighed heavily. - As can kill such an animal ACCIDENTALLY?!

- Either he or me. The choice was simple. - he replied with a shrug. - He was going to eat me, so I crushed his brain.

She laughed heartily. The story sounded very bizarre, but she knew perfectly well that he was telling the truth. Hanayama was famous for not lying. He didn't have to.

It's amazing how much they've come together in the last weeks. She stopped feeling distant completely, even in the company of his people. It turned out that she didn't have to keep her hands to herself, unless the situation really called for it. The exams were approaching, but she hoped that they would only limit contacts a bit, so that she had time to study, and he seemed to be completely distracted. Days passed, she waited for a phone call, a reply to a text message, whatever. Silence. Plus - she spent many hours reading books, and so on. Minus - the back of the head is still circulated a bad feeling that something had happened. But she hoped that in case of problems they would somehow inform her, even by word of mouth. She was folding the laundry in the room, putting the clothes in the closet, when she heard her father calling from the ground floor.

- HANABI!

If he wasn't adding anything, it meant she need to go down. So left everything behind and started toward the stairs. Father was standing by the open door, through which a tall man in a perfectly cut suit, dark shirt and white tie passed. He stubbornly combed his black hair back. She knew him. The bad feeling intensified, especially since he looked nervous.

- Kizaki-san? - she muttered, looking a little suspiciously. - Something happened?

- You must come with me as soon as possible, Hanabi-sama! - he threw right at her, almost falling to her knees. - We have a BIG problem, apparently only you will solve it!

He convinced her that it was wrong. She came back into the room to hurriedly change the home tracksuit into leather shorts, long socks and a loose, sleeveless T-shirt tied around her stomach, then jump into her shoes and drive. All the way she wondered what this might be about. She was not ready for what fate had brought.

Several empty bottles were already standing in front of Kaoru, as they entered the spacious living room with large windows overlooking the city skyline. Again he wasn't seen to have drunk anything. White pants, a purple shirt with a few top buttons open... He didn't look in her direction, but he didn't look drunk anyway. She left her shoes in the doorway to walk closer on the soft carpet. She recognized the men sitting next to him, Ueda Mitsuteru, a guy she'd heard was a pretty good performer who wanted to be as incredibly strong as his boss, and Ken Tanaka, one of her boyfriend's closest young associates. The third she barely noticed, and as he turned to face her, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, quite tall, somehow more handsome, and less pimple than she remembered him. When he stood in front of her, she could almost see the uniform she saw him in most.

- Soga, finally! - he boomed at her happily. - Only you save the day!

- May I know what the hell's going on? - she blurted out surprised. - What are you doing here, Haga?

- This ... then maybe I will explain ... I invite you after me ... - replied the sluggish dark-haired man with whom she came.

He led her to a room that apparently was an office. It WAS before it was piled up with piles of papers, drowning in utter, illogical disorder. She couldn't look at it. She heard the sound of the door closing.

- This is the first thing... I just don't have time to sort it out, and Haga says you're a specialist, Hanabi-sama. - Kaoru's adviser said seriously. - The second problem is here.

He pointed to a sheet of paper, that she recognized as a school report, folded in half. It belonged to HIM. She had never really thought about what grades he had had, and when she opened the document, decided she probably wished she didn't know... though might have expected. There are no ideals in the world. But she didn't quite understand what to do with it. She felt the blood boil in her veins. She looked at the man standing in front of her.

- The boss has to take over some of my duties, and without making up for these...inconveniences... he won't be able to do it. - he sighed with a pained face. - Please, Hanabi-sama... we tried everything...

She folded the document in half and put it on the desk, then completely enraged, returned to the living room. Slowly he started to look a bit sleepy, the percentage must have reached his head. Or was it just her imagination?

- HANAYAMA... - she growled.

He looked at her sharply, as did the rest of the crowd. She walked over, never taking her eyes off him. He looked like he was going to say something, but chose his words very carefully so as not to dig in even more.

- How could you not tell me sooner?! - she asked furiously. - Screw the scrap, we won't take it back, but HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?!

- Sorry... - he muttered under his breath, looking down.

She collapsed onto the couch, sitting next to him. She couldn't be angry for long, especially when he made the face of a beaten dog. Besides, she knew perfectly well that the nerves would not help. Not the way. She took a deep breath, rubbing her face with her hands, frantically wondering what she could do. The case was really difficult, especially since she herself had a lot of study for the exams.

- How much time I have?

- Three weeks. - Kizaki replied. - From today.

She had to make a decision right away. She didn't hesitate for too long. The bill was very simple. She had no choice, the situation required radical solutions, there was no time for sentiment. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, dialing the number quickly.

-Daddy, crisis situation. Would you bring me a few things? - she asked, and on hearing the answer she continued - Emergency bag from the closet be

#hanayama kaoru #baki the grappler #fanfic #fanfiction #oc x canon #kaoru hanayama #baki hanayama #yakuza #+18 only #+18 content #+18 or +adult only #baki dou #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki headcanons

[i-heart-slashers]

"It's not my fault! They wanted to take you away from me, so I had to do something!" + "I'm doing this for us."

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader (I imgained it as Fem but you read it as GN)

Warning(s): Yandere, violence, death, abuse, mentions of kidnapping.

There was no way to escape the terrifying screams of pain and thudding from the living room. You had taken up Steve's offer of coming to stay with him and using his house as a safe haven.

Though now you wished you hadn't.

From your current spot inside one of the kitchen cupboards, all you could do was shut your eyes and hope it all went away. You wish you could have the courage to do something- anything, but that had been stripped away months ago.

This was all your fault.

Eddie seemed like the perfect guy when you first started dating him. Sure he had his eccentric hobbies, and everyone deemed him as some satanic demon, but he was actually sweet and kind.

Or so you had thought.

It hadn't taken long for Eddie to latch onto the feeling you began to reciprocate for him, stating his overprotectiveness was just because he wasn't used to having someone love him.

You had taken all of his bad traits and defended them fiercely to your friends, who had begun to worry.

Eddie took pretty much everything away. Your independence, freedom, friends, and you didn't even realize it until Nancy talked some sense into you. 

That was the day you broke it off with Eddie at the picnic table in the woods behind the school. You told him you needed a break and that your friends were right.

That was a month ago, and since then, Eddie broke into your house multiple times, terrorized your family, and burned your house down with them inside it. 

Luckily Hopper had seen the fire on the way home from work and called it in. They were alive but all in terrible condition. No one really knew who did it, but your friends were convinced it had been Eddie.

That's when Steve took you in; his parents were on a business trip. He promised to keep you safe and that none of the group would let the crazy metalhead know where you were.

That's why you were surprised when Robin answered the door to a menacing and desperate-looking Eddie Munson, he had pleaded with her at first to let him see you, but when she denied his request, his sad puppy eyes changed.

You don't know how Eddie found you, but you didn't want to think of the why or the how not when you were sure the thudding sound was him beating up your friends to an inch of their lives.

Low talking sounded from the living room; it sounded as if Eddie was asking questions. You could hear the annoyance and hostility in his voice. It had been there since Steve had called out for you to run earlier.

You were sure you could hear the painful moans of Steve attempting to threaten Eddie from his home. More worryingly, there was an unusual void where Robin would throw in sarcastic quips. 

Taking a deep breath, you knew it was time to either go for help or try to save Steve and Robin yourself. Uncurling your arm from around your knees, you slowly moved from under the table and silently tiptoed out of the kitchen.

Your heart pounded as you crept through the now hauntingly silent house until the sounds of shoes padding against the floor made your heart clench. "Sweetheart!" Eddie's relieved voice called as you broke out into a run. 

Sprinting towards where Steve's low sobbing could be heard, rounding the doorway, you stopped suddenly as your eyes took in the heartbreaking image of a battered Steve holding Robin in his arms.

"Gotcha!" You're manic ex-boyfriend cheerfully exclaimed, catching you by the waist, but you couldn't tear your gaze from Robin, whose glassy blank eyes stared above her.

"What did you do?" You whispered as Eddie placed his chin on top of your head, swaying the both of you softly. You couldn't even find it in you to raise your voice.

"It's not my fault! They wanted to take you away from me, so I had to do something!" The curly-haired metalhead explained, turning you around by your shoulders and shaking you in his arms as if trying to make you see sense.

"You killed Robin, Freak!" Steve shouted from his spot on the floor where he still held the still body of his best friend.

Eddie's eyes darkened at the nickname everyone at school had bestowed upon him. It was worse whenever Steve used it since Eddie was convinced that the popular boy had a crush on you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks. Robin didn't deserve to die for the mistake you had made by letting Eddie into your life. "So what's the big plan now, huh. You've caught me and killed our friend. How do you see any future from this?" 

Surely he realized that he wasn't going to get away with this. Steve and you would go to the police. Robin's body would be found, and he would undoubtedly be caught.

"I'm doing this for us." His voice was soft as he lay his forehead on yours, but his eyes were crazy when he glanced towards the only person left in the room that he had no worries about harming.

Following his gaze, you saw Steve trying to quietly pull himself out the door, his body looking a mess from the beating Eddie had given him.

"Eddie, no!" you shouted, throwing yourself upon his back when he grabbed your friend's ankle dragging him back next to Robin's body as he cried out in distress.

Punching anywhere your fists could reach, you sobbed, trying to help Steve in any way you could. "Please stop," you begged, but it seemed to do nothing to Eddie, who only threw you off his back like you weighed nothing.

Crashing against the corner of Mrs. Harrington's fancy coffee table, you could do nothing but lay in shock as blood trickled from the new wound in your head as Eddie took a fist full of Steve's hair and spit in his face.

Crazed words were whispered at Steve about how Eddie would take you away from everyone forever, that you didn't need friends, you only needed Eddie.

#yandere #horror #horror slashers #slashers #reader insert #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere stranger things #yandere eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #gender neuteal reader #yandere x reader #yandere prompts #birthday prompts #prompt challenge #dark fics #horror baby birthday

[clarissak18]

Jigoku 我的家

The radiation of Sunset shines to Keiko's face. It's 6.45 PM. After school club, seems normal for her right? Yet, she found herself covered in bruises. Her phone buzzing as new notifications of her club teacher searching for her.

In truth, she didn't attend her After School club.

She's busy listening to her classmates rambling about their problem. Her Best friends (Homura and Mihoko) need her for some counseling. And...well...

Let's just say she met her old school "friends." And they began to give her some uh..."greetings".

But even though all of that. Keiko still smiles. The soft dark purple haired still smile despite all of that. Because why?

"It’s much way peaceful than my house..."

Does her parents abuse her? Of course not, they love her. Her siblings? They love her too. Then why?

Is her house really feels like hell to the point that she's standing infront of the river like she does right now?

For some people might said...no.

But for her...it's quiet the opposite.

From her parents divorcing when she just turned 13, her big brother is an alcoholic, her sister is mentally unstable to the point she kills people, her mother relies on her to take care of the family even though, her mother is barely home.

She's given so much responsibilities.

So much that a 14 years old can't handle it much longer.

Her best friends tried to encourage her to stop from her addiction of 自傷. But instead of helping, it became quiet the opposite for her.

She knows. She knows it's wrong. But she just can't stop.

As she walks home, she stares at the bruises she had on her hand.

"What a bad coping mechanism..."

As she opens the door. The first smell of alcohol. Ah, her brother's home.

"Nii-san...have you eat anything?"

She asks. No answer.

Sigh..

She goes upstairs to her room.

Her brother threw a bottle at her. Ah, he's drunk.

Her sister suddenly in a rage and throw a scissors at her door that she luckily closes before she get stabbed.

Ah, she must be in her schizophrenic phase right now.

*tomorrow*

"Hey, Kei? I'm sorry for yesterday...I...threw a bottle...I didn't mean to I swear.." Haruto said as he opens her door.

"Nee-chan...I'm sorry too..."

"Kei, I'm sorry...." Mihoko, her best friend came to visit her.

"Yeah, me too...sorry for troubling you a lot." Homura also came to see her.

Everyone still wait infront of her door. Apologizing as if it would fix everything.

"Get. Out. I don't want to hear your pleas and sorry. I'm tired. I've had enough of you guys throwing your trash at me! Am I only capable as a trash bin for you!? Get. Out. Leave me alone!" With a snap, Keiko shooed them away.

"I'm sorry....I forgive you all...but....I'm really tired right now....please...give me a break..."

They left as they close her bedroom door.

"Why didn't you said so earlier? Why didn't you ask for help?" They might ask.

"I DID, BUT UNFORTUNATELY YOU GUYS JUST DON'T GET IT!" She would say.

My pranks are my way to ask for help..

I hate this house. Why Tou-san take a long time to go home? Why..? Why me? I may be sounds dramatic but who cares!?

「生きていたいよ」 「生きてたくないよ」

#Yes #That's a gehenna lyrics #danganronpa #drv3 #kaimaki #harukaito #momoharu #keiko momota #maki haruwaka #haruto momota #Mihoko ouma #Homura saihara #saimatsu #oumeno

[cat-126]

>Hard to Love* ੈ✩‧₊˚

ʚĭɞೃ; Part 3: Assignment

Summary: Y/N is in their Junior year taking sciences, and has been elected as the Class Procter for the current year, as Class Procter she must fullfill certain objectives, but what happens when she runs into someone who claims to know her from her past?

Story Notes: Xiao is Hutaos older brother, OS/N means old school name

Warnings: Contains swearing.

♡> prev here next <♡

'Where is he?, i've been standing here for ages..'

You looked down at your watch as you slightly tapped your foot.

'Half of the break is already over...I'll just go to class...'

Just as you start walking away, making your way to class you hear someone call for you from behind.

Scaramouche.

"Hey! Pipsqueak where are you going?"

You looked back at him with a tired expression.

"Ugh, took you long enough, more than half of the break is already over asshole.." You were a sort of patient person but, couldn't stand it when people were late. Subconsiously, this caused a slihht pout on your face.

Even though you mumbled the last part, his quick ears still catched it.

He was leaning against your locker with his arms crossed and a cunning smile on his face.

"C'mon, 15 minutes isn't that much."

"Maybe to you but, some of us have other things to do...It's okay, lets just go" Your face turned into a softer one, knowing thst being moody wouldn't make time go faster.

"Okay okay, where to?"

You both were walking around the school as you told him about the campus, he didn't seem intrested at all. Break was already over but you were sure that Mr. Zhongli wouldn't mind you being late, after all you had a proper reason ready.

"This is where we-" "Ughhh! this is just boring.." He stopped walking and sat against the wall with his head up and eyes closed. "..." You weren't sure as to what to say or do.

He opened one of his eye to look up at you. "C'mon relax a bit just sit down.." He patted the floor next to him signaling you to come sit down.

"I'm fine.."

"Just sit."

'He's just as stubborn, he really hasnt changed since- whatever..'

You let out a heavy sigh as you sat down. No one spoke until he decided to break the silence. "So..why did you leave OS/N so suddenly?" You didn't know how to answer his question, a part of you wanted to tell him the truth but, you weren't ready to face it.

"What?" 'does he really have to bring this up..' "We used to be good friends but you left all of a sudden" He still had his eyes closed as he spoke but there was a slight look of dissapointment all over his face. "..." You didn't want to say anything so you chose to ignore it.

Finally. The tour was over and you could relax a bit. Luckily your next class was English and all your friends were with you.

“Ah! Y/N what took so long?”

Xingqui was the first one to notice you, “Oh? Ah I had to show Scaramouche around remember? Took longer than I expected” You spoke as you sat down with your friends.

Chongyun put his pen down and looked up at you with a monotone face, “You look tired as shit..”

“Thank you Yun..” You gave him the same expression but added a soft smile at the end.

“Aaa! Y/NNN, how was your daaaate?” Sigh.

“Tao it wasn’t a date..”

“Sure it wasn’t.. I saw the both of you cuddling near the auditorium!”

“We were not! We were just sitting Tao!” Hutao really needs to learn how to control her volume, she always found a way to embarrass you, intentionally and accidentally.

"Haha, sorry sorry! its funny tho!"

Right as you were about to ask why Xiangling was sleeping Mr.Zhongli called you, “Ms.Y/N please come to my desk immediately.”

“Woah! What did you do this time?”

“Hm? Nothing bad that I can remember..I’ll be back one sec!”

As you made your way to his desk, you spotted Scaramouche standing nearby as well, That means that Mr.Zhongli must've just wanted to talk about the tour!

“Ah, It took you both quite long to tour the school, while you both were gone I made pairs for your English assignment"

'Oh, that shouldn't be too hard..'

now that you two are the only ones left I will have to pair the both of you together.”

Oh.

“That is alright with the two of you, yes? But even if it is not, there isn’t any other choice.”

‘Haha, he’s kidding right?’

“You two will have to make an assignment on the poem we have been studying lately in class, do you both understand?”

“Yes, sir”

“Yeah”

“Good, you both may go back to your seats now.”

The two of you headed towards your own groups. Your friends were looking at you with teasing smiles, you can never really catch a break can you?

Hometime felt like forever and you were exhausted.

You and Xiangling were waiting outside for Hutaos brother to come pick her up. Luckily, the weather was nice and cloudy.

"Hm? N/N what happen?"

"Nothing Tao just, just tired after school.."

HONK!

"Ayaya! Well take care of your guys, we'll meet tomorrow ya?" She held your shoulders from behind and patted them as she gave Xiangling a closed eye smile. "Ooh! We will meet tomorrow right Ms. Procter aaand Ms.Director of The Funeral Parlor?" Xiangling gave two a bright smile as she spoke with a giggle.

"Haha, ofcourse!" You spoke with a happier tone and looked up at them with a brighter expression than before. "We'll see later! Bye!!" "Bye Bye! Take care!!"

You gave them a slight smile and a small wave. Your house was nearby so you chose to walk home. Even though the day was over, you still had alot to do. Just the thought of chores made you let out a semi-loud groan and caused you to make a sour face.

Scaramouche POV ᥫ᭡:

Scaramouche could see Y/Ns' friends waving goodbye to her as they headed to different directions, Xiangling went towards her little brothers classroom, Hutao went to her older brothers car and Y/N could be seen walking home.

Scaramouche was lost in his thoughts as he started at Y/N walkimg by, it wasn't intentionally but rather subconsiously. But he quickly snapped out the his daze as he heard someone call for him.

"Yo, bowlhead what are you thinkin' about?" It was Kaeya.

Childe whispered something in Kaeyas' ear with a smirk. As soon as he finished ooo's were let out.

"Ooo! You starin' at her?" Kaeya said with a slight chuckle. "Looks like someones in love, Haha!!"

'Im seriously gonna punch these idiots..'

"I am not in love. Just..wondering." He quickly looked away and crossed his arms. "Sure, wondering about your new love." Kaeya looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "Oh shut up..."

Childe was about to add onto the teasing but he was interupted by a honk.

"Well I gotta go my moms girlfriend is here, see ya."

"Bye! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"OY! Say hi to your new girlfriend from me!"

Both of them laughed while hitting each other. All Scaramouche did was look back with a deadpan face 'What's with them and hitting each other whenever they laugh..' He flipped them off and made his way to the car.

As soon as he got into the car the car Miko quickly spoke. She had a teasing smile on her face.

"So! Is our little Kuni finally growing up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Heard you got a girlfri-"

"Just drive.."

"Haha! you can talk to me if you ever need tips." He looked at her with his eyebrow raised raised then quickly looked back. He was a bit embarassed but he ignored any other feelings and started out the window.

'Maybe the rumors were true..'

Taglist: @beriiov

Comment that u wanna be added if you wanna be added into the taglist!! ^^^

A/N: hahahahaha. i had posted this last wrek BUT IT WOULDNT SHOW ANYWHERE??? ONLY ON MY ACC🤬 i was so mad BECAUSE I SPENT HOURS. okay i hope this like goes out yk😊😊

i lost my editing on this TWICE.

#genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin smau #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #scaramouche smau #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #cymil ♡

[bluerosejuliet]

Update

Hi guy!

Not sure how many people are actually following this account (that aren't porn bots) but I just wanted to apologize for the wait! Currently I'm teaching and also getting my masters so I've been trying to write in my free time! Luckily my school goes on break in a couple weeks so Isekai Portia should get an update by then! I'm also working on finishing some asks so I apologize as well for that.

In the meantime, I found a photo of what young mama Portia looks like in the Isekai AU (ironically it is still Sally Walker who plays on Bridgerton).

I mean just look at her folks. Is it any wonder Portia was able to snatch the interest of a Baron with her beauty.

Thank you once again for all the support and I am happy to answer any questions when I can.

#bridgerton #bridgerton au #Isekai Portia Au

[ahoge-fish]

Hello :3

Hope ur doing ok over there (i know we interacted not so long ago but im still asking)

I have a few questions that i been wondering for a while one about carlos (god i hope i got the bbys name right) and the other about alex (pls feel free to answer one if u want)

Ok first for our lil new member in the kujo family (part 4 i mean):

So i know that carlos got very attached to alex and became instant bond with Jolyne but im curious about jotaro how was the lil boy with him at first? Was he shy around him? Was he intimidated by him?

Second: What are alex's favorite and least favorite food? Does she have any alergies?

Sorry for the long ask! Also dont feel forced to answer if u dont wish too i know ur taking a break so i dont wish to bother u!

Thank u for ur time and patience!

HIII! :D It's always good to ask that, but yes luckily I'm still good and I hope you too! 💖💖💖

Oh I'll surely answer your questions, because I LOVE asks like this!! And thank YOU for asking them, you're not bothering me at all 😌 You're so sweet tho, thank you for your kindness💖💖💖

Also whoopsies the boy's name not Carlos but Luis, don't worry about that tho! You should see me when I try to remember some characters names, I totally go the opposite way HAHAHAHAHAH But anyway! Here you go the answers ;)

How did Luis react to Jotaro?

When they first found him at the old house, Luis felt safe enough to hug Alexandra, as Jotaro was inspecting his father's dead body in the other room. When they took him at the SPW, Luis only talked to Alexandra, not because everyone else was being rude to him, but because she was the one to first calm him down, and so he felt more at ease with her.

Did Jotaro try to talk to him while he was still at the SPW? Yes, he tried. He grew up from being the rebel teenage boy to the educated man that he was at that moment. But as we all know he still has a very intimidating aura, with his cold face and always frowned eyebrows. So you can imagine how a child that just got out from the situation that he was could've react.

He was not scared of him to the point of screaming, he simply kept his mouth shut and didn't even look at him. Jotato however tried to talk to him with the most gentle tone of voice that he could've do, getting nothing in return.

Jotaro was not mad or upset about it, he knows that he doesn't look like the frendliest guy at first sight. But things started to preoccupie him when him and Alex decided to adopt little Luis.

The little boy walked away from the room where the man was, when they had breakfast/lunch/dinner he always seated at the opposide sit from Jotaro, when Luis and Jolyne had to go to school and Jotaro took them there with his car, Luis stayed silent the whole ride (and if Jolyne seated in the back seats with him, he always hugged her arm).

Alexandra and Jolyne noticed it, and they talked about that with Luis too, but he just didn't feel comfortable with the scary man.

So, what did Jotaro do to gain his trust? Something that if someone reminded to him, he would've punched them straight in the face (jk, but almost)

That was obviously Alexandra's idea, and Jotaro being desperate just accepted to do it. So one day, to make Luis understand that Jotaro is a gentle giant, they both made him and Jolyne wait in a room. And when they opened the door, the children immediately bursted into a loud laugh.

Their parents where both wearing a dolphin costume, making especially Jotaro more ridiculous. But did he do it only for his new child to trust him? Yes. During the entire evening they all played together and even shared some facts about dolphins.

In the end it was worth it, because Luis started to feel more at ease with his father.

What are Alex favourite food and least favourite?

Alexandra would eat anything comestible that she has in front of her eyes, but the dish that she fell in love with is "gnocchi al pesto".

The earliest memory that she has is her grandma giving her a big plate of gnocchi with pesto, and she digged in it because she just enjoyed it very much. From that moment, she always asked her mother if she could've do only gnocchi with pesto, at which Isabella laughed but made that dish very often.

Her father Michael, always being the pIECE OF SHIT THAT HE IS- always has to ruin any joy that Alex has :) So because one evening he got mad at Isabella for making the same dish, and because "Alex gained weight and become more ugly that she already was", she stopped doing it for a long period of time. Alexandra understood the situation, so she didn't ask for that dish anymore.

And one dish that she hates? It's not because she doesn't like the taste, but because it was Michael's favourite. It is miso soup, a dish that always brings Alex the memories of her father, that's why she hates it.

Does she have any alergies?

She is allergic to kiwi. She discovered it one day she was at Jotaro's house, and Holly had some fruits to give to the young friends.

She started to feel her throat getting tighter and tighter, until it was visible that it was swollen and red. The two friends didn't know what to do, since they were only 11 at the time and that Holly went out to buy some food for dinner, so they both rushed to Alexandra's house.

Luckily there was only Isabella, that immediately brought Alexandra to the ER. Jotaro went with them and was very nervous, but Isabella calmed him down telling him that she was alright and that they came just in time.

Later Alexandra was indeed alright and she was diagnosed with an allergy for kiwi.

Jotaro for a period of time was very paranoid with this, and so made sure that even the most obvious foods didn't have kiwi in them.

#•🐠 answers• #jotaro kujo #alexandra parker #luis kujo #jjba #jjba oc

[prettylittlelyres]

Hi buddy! Its Athena, I'm sending this out to all my mutuals - what got you into writing, what inspires you, who inspires you and what music inspires you to write? what do you love about writing?

Thank you so much for asking! I'm finally getting around to answering now, but I've had these questions in my head ever since they arrived in my inbox. I knew this was going to be a long post, so I've put it off until there's been a good time, which is today.

What got you into writing?

I learned to read when I was three, and we've always had a house full of books. Most of my collection is digital now, as I've moved house (internationally) too many times in the last ten years to keep a bedroom full of paperbacks, but books have been a huge part of my life.

It's hard to say what exactly got me into writing, because I don't really remember not writing... but I think my biggest inspirations have been Hilary McKay (author of the "Casson Family" books, and my namesake), Anna Godbersen (I love the "Luxe" series!), and the "My Story" series that Scholastic released (various authors, but I think Alison Prince and Valerie Wilding are my favourites!) in the early 2000s.

We had some Creative Writing lessons in primary school, with a teacher who then discouraged us from writing creatively (sheer peculiarity of that person), so I took up writing defiantly, and got good at hiding paper up my sleeve, in my pockets, in my socks, anywhere I could be sure it wouldn't be found. At one point, I was carrying around probably 5,000 words at a time! My friends used to help me break into the teacher's desk to get my confiscated work back, and I'm still so grateful to them for doing that.

Through secondary school, I kept writing for fun, and wrote several drafts of what has become "This Still Happens" during my GCSEs and A' Levels. I was lucky enough to take Creative Writing A2 with AQA before the government shut the course down, and I still use the techniques I learned from those extremely kind, encouraging teachers.

What inspires you to write?

My creativity always seems to kick in when I'm on the train. Whenever I travel, I take my phone with me, and if it's likely to be a long (more than 15 minutes, in my book) journey, I take along my Bluetooth keyboard as well. I bought it when I was seventeen, when I had some "treat" money leftover from my summer job, and I started taking it with me to Sixth Form that September. It was so much easier, not to have to lug my laptop around.

This was 2016, I think: the glorious days of LitLift, which was a bit like Scrivener, but web-browser based, and fizzled out in 2018, after about six months of patchy service. Luckily, I never kept anything exclusively on LitLift, so I didn't lose anything. There was one chapter of "This Still Happens" (in an earlier version) that I had to rewrite entirely, because LitLift lost it before I could back it up, but that was at least half my own fault, for not saving as I went! (No harm done in the long term, anyway. I completely rewrote the book the following year!)

Having my Bluetooth keyboard feels like a good compromise between a desktop/laptop computer and a typewriter. I can set my phone up at a distance, and make the font big enough to see from the other side of the room, and bang out a few pages of my story without much temptation to edit while I draft! As I say, it's so portable, and makes writing so much easier. I used to take it to work and write in the kitchen during my lunchbreaks, but, now that I work from home, I'm just as likely to use my laptop.

There is something very inspiring about graveyards, and I want to write a story set in one - in the vein of Brookwood or Highgate - one day. They're not spooky for me, just extremely beautiful and peaceful. And, of course, I take a lot of inspiration from real life. "This Still Happens" is inspired by my own experiences - not exactly mirrored in the book - and "Curls of Smoke" has a lot of roots in the time I spent in my local Gang Show. I wish I could dance like Florian and Rhiann can (though I'm content to wiggle in my swivel-chair)!

Who inspires you to write?

"Violins and Violets" character Katharina Schmidt is inspired by Maria Anna Mozart, older sister of Wolfgang Amadeus (who inspired Hans Schmidt). I learned about her when I was twelve, studying for my Grade 4 piano; "Allegro in F" from the "Nannerl Notenbuch" was on the syllabus, and I was immediately intrigued. For one, I just like the name Nannerl (how do you get that from Maria Anna? (not that my family's nicknames make any sense to outsiders)). Then, when I looked her up, I found out that she was probably just as good a composer as Wolfgang, but forbidden to make music because she was a woman?! What did the world lose when it shunned her? That's the question "Violins and Violets" asks, and tries to answer... and more to the point, "What might have been?"

"Vogeltje" as a whole novel was inspired by one conversation I had with a friend in a coffee shop one afternoon in 2017. We're both Disabled, in very similar ways, and we've always been frustrated by the prevailing idea that being Disabled makes us in some way tragic, or less deserving of the spotlight. So, I decided, I would write a novel where the main character was Disabled (in the same ways as we are!) and she does get the spotlight, and she does get to be the lead, and she does get to be sexy and attractive and have agency. I love drafting it - it's been on hold for ages now and I want to get back to it - because every time I do, I get to know Marianne Stafford a little bit better, and it's like I have yet another friend I can relate to.

What music inspires you to write?

I have lots of playlists for my writing, usually inspired by a character or a pairing, but sometimes serving as a soundtrack for the whole book.

I like to save pieces of Baroque music that remind me of "Violins and Violets", especially if they remind me of something the characters would compose, and for "This Still Happens", I have a playlist of all the songs I was listening to when I wrote it.

Over about seven long drafts, it's a long playlist, with music from when I was still at school! M83's "Midnight City" features heavily, and appears in the soundtrack for "Curls of Smoke" as well.

What do you love about writing?

The best bit has to be getting to decide what happens next. So little of life is in our control, but when we write stories, we have absolute say. We can make things happen just for fun, because we think it would be nise, or because, yes, it would be horrible if XYZ happened, but we can rewirte it and change it later on, if we want.

I'm a big fan of the 1999 film and 2016 series "Frequency" for the same reason; the characters get to decide what happens in their lives (but I don't like the consequences they suffer, so I'd rather be a writer than a "Frequency" character!).

#heavensfallenfaction #writeblr #blog #answer #answers #athena anna rose #ask game #ask games #music for writing

[rimalupin]

Here's something fun: Which Youtubers do you think the Midcin Suitors would follow?

Heya, Rizos! :D

Ooo girl, you are in luck: I binge-watch YouTube videos whenever I can get a break, so your ask is right up my alley, LOL. ^-^

Alyn

ALL. THE. BAKING. VIDEOS. He gets so excited when he watches them: he will actually whip out a notebook and start writing down the recipes that he wants to try (a.k.a. ALL OF THEM! xD).

He especially likes watching cake/dessert-decorating channels (think Rosanna Pansino and My Cupcake Addiction), mostly because he wants to brush up on his decorating & design skills~.

He’d also probably watch some horse-related videos (equestrian, racing, etc.) and maybe a few dog videos so he can get ideas of what tricks he could teach Arthur.

Sid

Another dog video person: he watches adorable dog compilation videos and wonders if he can teach Jess some tricks~.

He needs to stay up-to-date about what’s going on around the world for his job, so he’d probably watch some late-night show clips (think John Oliver and Stephen Colbert) for the sake of both serious and hilarious political commentary (Ya boy’s gotta stay woke AND maintain his sense of humor! :D).

He doesn’t like to admit it, but he used to watch a bunch of gaming channels before he got too busy with his job! :P

Byron

Also watches political commentary clips from late-shows because he wants to know what people outside of political positions/occupations think of the world.

But he’d much rather watch AsapSCIENCE videos, especially those that have to do with astronomy.

He also watches a bunch of pop culture/meme videos that Nico sends him in order to “help him keep up with what’s ‘cool and hip’”. Thanks to Nico, Byron now knows that PPAP and dabbing were “so last year.”

Albert

Another avid political commentary watcher. Also watches videos that summarize political events going on around the world (like “NowThis” and other news channels’ videos).

He’s definitely a CrashCourse fan! He especially loves the History Series~.

When he’s trying to destress, he looks up latte art videos. He’s always so amazed by how the baristas create their drinks~.

It’s Nico’s fault that he has so many meme videos on his watch history. Poor Albert has gotten Rickrolled by Nico more times than he can count… xD

Nico

In case y’all haven’t already figured it out, Nico is very much into meme videos: from YouTube classics (like Numa Numa) to Vine compilations (even though Vine is dead #RIP), he has an entire freaking ARSENAL of these videos. :P

He also likes watching prank videos to get inspiration for his own silly antics (like fousyTUBE’s old prank videos and Thomas Sanders’s “Pranks With Friends”).

He has fallen in love with parkour videos and he may or may not have tried to do some of the stunts (don’t worry: Albert is always there to catch Nico when he falls yell at him for being so reckless).

Leo

Another CrashCourse fan! He and Albert may have had a few CrashCourse binge-watching sessions together, LOLOL. :D

He also likes watching the book summary and analysis videos like CrashCourse Literature and Thug Notes.

He loves watching YouTube comedians, especially those whose videos are #Relatable (think Lilly Singh, Liza Koshy, Domics, sWooZie etc.). As y’all can tell, I too watch A LOT of YouTube comedians, haha~. :P

Giles

High-key cat video person, ESPECIALLY when he’s stressed (If he had a nickel for every time he watched the Keyboard Cat video, he’d be effin’ rich.).

His search history is FILLED with yoga and mindfulness meditation videos. It’s another good destressor that also helps him maintain a healthy mind and body~.

He also has a bad habit of watching cooking videos when he’s hungry, especially the sped-up recipes videos (like Tasty’s recipe vids).

He discovered CrashCourse thanks to Leo and Albert, so he’ll occasionally send the Princess some videos to help her with reviewing lessons~.

Robert

BOB ROSS. Oh, and other performance painting videos~.

He’d definitely be the kind of person to watch oddly satisfying video compilations (both ASMR and non-ASMR).

He also loves travel videos!

It’s Amber’s fault that he watches so many hedgehog compilation videos, haha~. c:

Rayvis

He claims that he doesn’t watch much YouTube unless there’s something remotely interesting to him on the “Now Trending” page.

But TBH, he’s a huge BuzzFeed fan: he watches their videos whenever he gets a break and/or just needs to de-stress (regardless of the “quality” of the vids). He has subscribed to ALL the BuzzFeed channels, but he doesn’t want to admit it, LOLOL. xD

I can also see Rayvis as a TED Talks fan. He’s honestly such a nerd for these videos, and he isn’t afraid to embrace it~.

Louis

Hair tutorials and hair product hauls galore. What? Even the best of the best need some advice on maintaining their luscious locks.

He absolutely loves song covers (from vocal song covers to instrumental versions).

I can also see Louis trying out crafting thanks to DIY videos~.

Although ballroom dancing is his forte, he also tries to learn some hip hop routines! Some choreographers he watches include Matt Steffanina, WilldaBeast Adams, Dytto, and more~! Yes, I also watch a lot of dance videos, LOLOL.

#thanks for the ask rizos! #also sorry for answering it so late #i was just really busy recently #luckily i'm on a school break so i found some time to answer this! #^-^ #midnight cinderella #midcin #suitors and youtubers #ask #rizosrojizos #headcanon #headcanon by me #alyn crawford #sid arnault #lloyd grandier #byron wagner #albert burckhardt #nico meier #leo crawford #giles christophe #robert branche #rayvis harneit #louis howard

[do-ray-mi]

Food Chain pt.4(Park Jisung x M!reader)

Pairing: NCT Dream Jisung x male reader

Genre: highschool au, angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to friends to lovers

Warnings: one scene of violence only talked about not described. This is a more fluffy chapter.

Description: as we grow towards forgiveness, so do our feelings.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Y/n stood silent watching Jisung wipe the tears that started falling. He went into his back pack to grab a kleenex from those little travel size packs, he hands it over to the boy in front of him.

Jisung looked at it for a second before grabbing it, their fingers making slight contact with each other. He could still feel his touch on his fingers as he used the kleenex to wipe his eyes.

Y/n checked the time on his phone. "The school bell rings in about 10 minutes." He said.

"We should leave, the other's and I would go here after school. I'd rather avoid them as much as I can." Jisung said making his way off the tree branch, helping Y/n down aswell.

*

The following couple weeks were uneventful. Soobin, Kai and Beomgyu welcomed Jisung after a lot of convincing from Y/n. The group would spend their lunches in empty classrooms, sometimes they would have study dates.

Like right now, Y/n and Jisung were the only ones available that day so they decided to study English at Jisung's.

After an hour of Jisung almost crying over English and Y/n losing his sanity trying to teach him, they took a break to go grab some snacks in the kitchen. Maybe even play some Mario Kart.

The two were in the kitchen staring at the microwave, as if that would make the popcorn pop faster.

Jisung turned to observe Y/n, his new favourite hobby. He came to a realization some time ago that he was growing feelings for him. His eyes followed each curve and edge of his face, noticing the little flaws he couldn't help but fall in love with aswell.

He made his way to the fridge after a thought came to his mind. He grabbed a pen one of his parents left on the table before opening the door and grabbing a lime. He clicked the pen before writing on it, a small smile on his lips. He makes his way to Y/n to give it to him.

Y/n held it in his hand for a bit only looking at Jisung as if he was mutating in front of his eyes. Jisung pointed at it with his eyes, a childlike innocence showing on his face.

Y/n looked at the line in his hand before sighing, fighting back a flustered expression.

"You're cute ;)" was written on the lime.

"What the fuck is this Jisung?" Y/n asked, both flustered and exasperated.

"A pick up lime!" Jisung responded with a smug look, his eyebrows wiggled a couple of times. "Ow!" Y/n tossed the lime at his face.

*

"What happened to you!?!?" Y/n yelled in panic, seeing Beomgyu and Jisung walk into their lunch classroom.

Jisung was supporting Beomgyu who was limping, both of them were bruised but Beomgyu was in a much worst condition.

Jisung slowly sat the boy onto a chair to avoid further discomfort before turning to Y/n with a sigh.

"Yeonjun happened, luckily I found him before things could get worse." Jisung explained, Kai and Soobin rushed over to their friend to inspect his injuries.

"Can you be more specific?" Y/n asked, having a harder time staying calm.

"I don't know what was happening before hand but I heard sounds of someone getting hurt so I went to see what was going on and...", Jisung paused taking a breath, "I found Yeonjun beating him up..."

"Bullshit! How do we know it wasn't actually you who was hurting him!?!?" Soobin yelled walking over to him, his face showing the anger of a thousand suns.

"Because if that were the case, Beomgyu wouldn't have let me bring him here, let alone touch him." Jisung answered, holding his ground.

"Jisung is telling the truth..." Beomgyu grunted out.

"Why was Yeonjun hurting you...?" Kai asked, using a wet tissue to clean up the blood from his friend's face.

"Rumors are going around about him, something about sleeping with a teacher and he thinks I'm the one who started them.." Beomgyu explained taking the pain killers Soobin gave him to soothe with aching head.

"Chenle..." Jisung thought to himself, guess overthrowing his best friend wasn't enough for him. He's bringing everyone he considers a threat down.

"If Jisung didn't find me... I probably could have been in critical condition." Beomgyu finished.

"How did you get bruised?" Y/n asked Jisung, the back of his fingers sweeping softly over the bruise forming on the other's cheek. Jisung smiled softly taking the boy's hand into his.

Chills turning into warmth engulfed Y/n's body, he was now fighting the urge to hug the boy right in front of him.

"Fuck, old feelings are resurfacing" He thought to himself.

"I kinda starting fighting Yeonjun.." Jisung responded sheepishly, even had the audacity to chuckle.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!!?" Y/n voiced out. He ripped his hand from Jisung's clutch to look at him like a disappointed parent.

"Equivalent exchange!" Jisung shrugged with a small smile.

"I regret introducing you to Fullmetal Alchemist..."

*

The 5 boys decided to have a slumber party at Beomgyu's. They finished their finals and decided to celebrate, what better place to do that other than Beomgyu's basement his family turned into a home theater.

They had blankets and pillows all over the floor. All focused on the movie projected onto the wall, Train to Busan. Tears were falling.

Jisung was fighting for his life, he didn't wanna cry, especially when he's seen this movie more times than he's blinked. He felt someone cuddle up against him and turned his attention to them.

His breath hitched as well as his heart.

Y/n cuddled up to him in an oversized hoodie that belonged to Jisung. He underestimated the cold of Beomgyu's basement and left his at home so Jisung had to seize the opportunity.

Y/n... looked really funny, he was knocked out, his mouth open and drool collecting on the corner of his mouth.

Yet Jisung's whipped ass couldn't help but find that absolutely adorable. He put his arm around the boy pulling him closer. He looked up to see Beomgyu staring right back at him with his signature troublemaker expression.

"What?" Jisung mouthed at him. Beomgyu took both his index fingers before rubbing them their tips together and making smooching sounds.

... he soon got a pillow thrown to his face.

#nct dream x male reader #nct jisung #nct jisung x male reader #nct x male reader #no beta we die like men

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 (𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢��𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟖𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @vocalyunho

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The girl's eyes peered with great attention onto the map in front of her. Making sure it was the correct hallway, she proceeded to make her way down the small staircase. Being so attentive towards the schedule and diagram given to her, not to mention carrying her binder and some of her journals, she nearly tripped on the last couple of stairs but luckily regained her balance before any disaster happened. Faced with a wall full of lockers, she made a right turn and carefully looked for the number written on her paper. Her locker was one of the last ones, which she didn't mind. A door at the end of the lockers was half open, letting her have a peak inside what she assumed to be the training room for the boxing club, given the huge punching bag that was hanging and all sorts of other equipment that she would never guess what they were for.

Squinting her eyes, she began to put in her combination, safely maneuvering the lock and getting her locker to open. With a soft grunt, she tossed her heavy book bag into the compartment, her shoulder aching after having carried so many things at once. She began organizing things so loudly in there she didn't notice the tall, lean figure that approached the punching bag, one of his hands finishing the task of wrapping the safety bandages on the other. His black hair was already sticking to his forehead after having run some laps outside in the track field, his usual warm up before heading inside. Making sure the bandages were tightly secured, he held his fists up before landing a couple of punches onto the bag, stopping momentarily before resuming to strike at it with as much force as he could. Through pants and grunts, he continued his punches, teeth clenched and eyes completely focused, his body beginning to perspire even more sweat, leaving his shirt nearly soaked through.

Gasping for air, he decided to take a break, body hunched over as he rested his hands on his knees, slowly getting his heart rate back to normal. Getting an unusual feeling, he suddenly lifted his head and tilted it to the left. He was both surprised and intrigued to see a girl he'd never seen before gaze at him, her eyes wide open and lips slightly agape, fascination clearly visible on her features. Having been caught eyeing him, she quickly hid her face behind the open locker door, her cheeks immediately reddening and her hands fumbling to quickly take out what she needed and just dash out of there to avoid any further embarrassment. The young athlete chuckled softly, smile still plastered on his face as he began walking out of her room and up to where she was.

"I take it you're new in the school right?"

Startled by his close proximity and tall height, she dropped all of the things she was currently holding, muttering out a slight curse as she began bending down to pick them up.

"Here. Let me help."

Pulling her back up, the male speedily gathered her things and held them back out to her.

"Thank you..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You never answered my question." He gently reminded her.

"Oh...yeah I just transferred here." She responded, hand reaching up to brush some fallen hair behind her ear.

"Thought so, in my years here I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a cute little face like yours."

His compliment followed along by his large hand booping the bun on the top of her head only worked to make her feel more shy about standing in front of such a handsome guy.

"I'm Yunho." He held out his wrapped hand out to her, which she gratefully shook.

"I'm Y/N."

He looked at her with a fond smile upon hearing her name.

"Well Y/N, if you ever get lost or need something, please let me know. I'd be happy to help."

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and bumped his nose against hers, making her slightly crinkle her own after he pulled back.

"I like you. Let's be friends."

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"Look! Yunho! I see the beach already!"

Yunho only took a small glance over at his friend, who had of course taken off her seatbelt in order to stand up and get a better view of the blue ocean that was now drawing closer and closer to them. Without taking his eyes off the road, he grabbed one of her belt loops and firmly sat her back down, not about to risk an accident happening.

"Y/N just because this car is convertible, doesn't mean you can just go wilding about and standing up. You could get hurt."

Poking her bottom lip out with crossed arms, the girl pushed the seat further back so she could rest her feet up on the dashboard. Still hyped up about their trip to California and unable to contain her excitement, Y/N moved one of her legs so it could nudge Yunho's arm. He merely rolled his eyes at her, so used to her mischievous yet rather adorable antics. He couldn't suppress the smile on his face when she kept bumping her knee up against his elbow or tapping her foot against one of the hands that was gripping the steering wheel. During one particular move of her leg, he got his hand off the wheel and grabbed her thigh, squeezing at it softly and keeping it within his reach.

"Do you have a death wish?" He questioned her.

"No..... I'm just too excited and I can't wait to see the rest of the gang." She bounced against the seat.

Releasing a light chuckle, Yunho used his thumb to rub circles against her exposed knee, tugging at the ripped fabric coming out.

"Seriously, couldn't you pick another pair of jeans?" He shook his head.

"What's wrong with them?" She exclaimed in offense.

"They're practically ripping from how skin tight they are. Honestly, did you just paint them on? Guys will stare at your ass." He involuntarily gripped her thigh a little tighter when he pictured some pervert eyeing his best friend up and down.

"Maybe that was the whole plan along."

Her little snort only made him smack her thigh rather abruptly, earning her a glare from him as well, which only served to make her burst into giggles.

"Hit me harder daddy." She teased him, sitting up to rest her head on his shoulders as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh my fuck- I can't with you! You know I hate that word!" He cringed in disgust at the unholy word, lightly shoving her head off him, opting to instead turn up the volume of the music to hopefully calm his energetic friend down a bit.

Pulling into the parking lot, Y/N wasted no time in jumping out of the car and sprinting out towards the small crowd that was already gathered near the shoreline, a small bonfire already being started while the sun was still out. Finally catching sight of the last pair to get there, some of their friends waved them over.

"Hey guys! They're here! Yunho and Y/N are here!" A bright pink haired male who was donning a crop top began jumping up and down in excitement at the whole crew being gathered.

Meanwhile the jet black hair male next to him was not amused by his screeching.

"Ok ok geez, we get it." He held San down.

"Yeosang stop being a drag and let loose for once. We're on vacation, no more mean professors. No late night studying, no more presentations. Tonight we're just a bunch of adults who are going to get shit faced wasted and party all night long!" His friend let out a piercing holler.

"Ok but I'm not carrying your drunk ass back to the room then Woo." Yeosang warned him.

"Mingi!"

Y/N immediately ran up to her friend who was just as tall as Yunho. She was so happy to finally see him after so long, none of them having been able to see much of him since he had gone away on a transfer college program and had been living abroad for a while now. She clung onto him tightly.

"I missed you two munchkin." Mingi bent his face to kiss the top of her head before ruffling her hair into a tangled mess like he'd usually do.

"I'm not going to punch you for that only because I missed your clumsy ass too much." She squinted her eyes at him, but immediately went back to her happy self and began asking him so many questions about what he had done.

Yunho went over to see if anyone needed help, always stepping up to set up anything they needed. He had decided to help out his older friend, Seonghwa, bring out the coolers full of beer and other alcoholic beverages while another one, Hongjoong, began making a playlist on his phone which would soon blast all over the bluetooth speakers.

"How was the ride here?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, who could only let out an exhausted sigh.

"That crazy huh?" Hongjoong chuckled, looking over at Y/N who was practically hanging onto Mingi's arm like a koala, while San and Wooyoung were arguing about not being giving the same amount of hugs.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's already having fun, but even I think she's a little too much for me nowadays. I can barely keep up with her energy sometimes." Yunho admitted, although he found it ironic how ever since the years passed, it had seemed as if though his once bubbly and energetic nature switch somewhat with Y/N's more calm and mellow personality.

"Well I mean, don't worry about babysitting her tonight. Just drink some beer and go wild like we used to back in high school."

Popping off the cap, Seonghwa handed the bottle over to Yunho who immediately took a small sip of it.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to have to stay sober and make sure she doesn't do anything too crazy."

Smirking, Hongjoong came up to him as he pulled something out of his pants.

"I thought you'd say that which is why I took the liberty of placing you two in the same motel room. Now you don't have to worry about rooming with tweedle dumb or tweedle idiot there." He nodded over to Wooyoung and San.

Yunho looked down at the room key with bewilderment.

"Oh Hong- why would you? Listen she's my best friend, but to share a room with her-"

"Is the best idea if you ask me. Seriously Yunho, we're here about to get fucked as hell. Maybe this is the chance for something between you two to finally happen. If you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made Yunho blush wildly.

"Nothing will happen. She only sees me as a friend." He tried to convince himself more than anyone else.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong looked at him and then at each other, both of them with a dead panned expression.

"Oh honey you are so lost." Seonghwa stated, letting out some very audible tsks.

"Jongho! Come here! We need an opinion from a level headed person." Hongjoong waved over a muscular red head over, who came over with arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" He looked unamused.

"On a scale of 1-10, how much would you say Yunho and Y/N want to fuck each other?"

Yunho covered Hongjoong's mouth at that.

"Hyung! What the fuck?!" He looked around to make sure Y/N didn't hear anything.

Shrugging, Jongho slid his hands into his pant's pockets.

"I don't really pay attention to hetero shit, but I'd say solid 12 if I'm being honest." Satisfying their curiosity, he went back towards Yeosang, who was already downing down another bottle and laughing a lot more than he'd usually do, which prompted his partner to take the bottle away from him, which Yeosang did not appreciate and began grumbling in a not so threatening manner.

Yunho looked over at his friend, talking so casually with the other girls, all of them showing off pictures of clothes or their pets no doubt. He began to think that maybe Hongjoong and Seonghwa were right. Perhaps this could be the night where something would spark between them.

He just had to wait and see.

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Loud cheers and hollers were being poured out at the two females who were currently tongue deep inside each other's throats due to the dare they were given.

"3, 2, 1! Ok. 40 seconds is up."

The more dominant of the girls got off the other's lap, a smug look on her face while the other looked completely dazed as she tried to regain her composure.

"Dang Sua, you didn't need to go that intense. Poor Yoohyeon." Wooyoung shook a finger at her.

"I know for a fact you enjoyed that little show just as much as she did." She glanced in between his legs, eyeing the very visible boner that had formed there before brushing some hair out of Yoohyeon's face.

"Ok it's not my turn but I've really been wondering long and hard about something! Seungyeon! Is it true you got your nipples pierced last month?" San suddenly blurted out, words slightly slurring as all eyes looked over at the bronzed beauty who had a wicked grin on her face.

"I did." She confirmed the rumor.

"No way! You have low pain tolerance! I don't believe you!" He interjected.

Putting her drink down, she sauntered over to him, hands on her hips as she stood in front of him. Grabbing the end of her shirt, she lifted it up and let her well endowed tits pop out. San nearly choked as he stared at the metal bars piercing through her nipples.

"Hot damn. I love being Bi." He licked his lips.

With a giggle, Seungyeon gave her tits a little shake before covering them up again.

"Ok now that I blessed you with my chest, now you have to do something for me."

Always up for a challenge, San immediately agreed.

"What is it? Come on throw it at me. Who's dick or pussy am I sucking?" His question had everyone laughing.

"No, don't get ahead of yourself fuck boi. I dare you to strip and jump into the cold water." She smirked, really convinced he'd never do it.

But to everyone's shock, horror and amusement, San didn't waste a second before standing up and ridding himself of all his clothes, leaving some of his friends wide eyed while others were getting more turned on by the ever escalating game of truth or dare.

"You know if you wanted an excuse to just see my dick, all you had to do was ask."

With a wink towards the tanned female, San ran into the water and let his entire body submerge underneath the waves. Meanwhile the rest of the party got off their seats to witness or record the entire thing. Coming out of the water, San swiped his hair back before calling out to them.

"I bet none of you have the guts to do the same!" He challenged them.

"Bet!" Wooyoung responded before practically ripping his shirt off.

With a shrug, Seungyeon completely took off her top.

"You have all seen my tits already. What the heck?"

Soon a few more of them joined San in the water, while the others either stood there contemplating if they should do something or just let them be.

"I knew it. I knew this would eventually turn into one of those college parties that ends in an orgy- NOT THAT I'VE EVER SEEN THEM!" Mingi immediately shouted, but everyone around him just looked at him with absolutely no surprise or judgment.

"I wanna join!"

Yunho watched in horror as Y/N took off her shirt and threw it at him. Before she could even reach for her bra clasp, he took off his jacket and covered her, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

"No you don't. We're going to our room and you're going straight to bed." He firmly said, ignoring the suggestive glances the others were giving him.

"Put me down Yunho! Put me down!" She wiggled in his grasp, trying to break free but in her tipsy state she couldn't really do much.

"Bye Y/N! Sorry you didn't get to show us your boobs! I bet they're great!" Yeosang waved at them, completely drunk with Jongho holding him up so he wouldn't fall.

Y/N eventually gave up and just let Yunho carry her across the motel parking lot, his car already having been moved over so it'd be easier for them to get their stuff. Not fully coherent and with still leftover energy, she began tapping on his back.

"Truth or dare."

"Y/N, I'm pretty sure the game already ended." He told her as he took out his key to lock and put the alarm on his car.

"But you didn't pick anything besides truth you boring old sack! Now pick dare! I wanna dare you to do something!" She insisted.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" He wanted to satisfy her whims for a moment.

"Dare you to slam me on the hood of the car and make out with me."

Yunho wasn't sure if she was being serious or was playing around like she usually did, but her sentence made him freeze up.

"I knew it. I knew you didn't have the balls to do it." She snickered at him.

Finally deciding to snap, Yunho tore his jacket off her body before hauling her down and slamming her onto the hood of his car, not to hard so she wouldn't get hurt. With a dark look in his eyes, he smirked down at her.

"Bet."

Before she had time to respond or comprehend what was going on, Y/N was already melting into the kiss her long time friend was giving her. She didn't hesitate to allow his tongue to slither in her mouth. Y/N moaned as Yunho continued to massage his tongue against hers, rolling them over each other before sucking down on it. His hands which had been holding her arms over her head let go of them so they could snake down her torso before gripping her hips. Prying her legs open with his knee, Yunho pressed himself in between them, his growing bulge grinding against her jean clad core. Y/N could feel her underwear stick to her folds from how aroused she was becoming. Having nothing to lose, she wrapped her legs around Yunho's waist, squeezing him closer as she grinded harder against him, practically dry humping him.

"Fuck! You're driving me insane."

Wanting to get her as frustrated as him, he trailed wet and sloppy kisses down her sternum, licking on the top of her cleavage, while his fingers pushed underneath her bra cups so they could rub her nipples in between them.

"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasped out, her hands going to the back of his head, fingers harshly tugging at the strands of his hair as she pressed her chest out more forward him.

"Please suck my tits."

Yunho let out a brief awkward laugh at her request before pulling himself off her, which resulted in her writhing in an annoyed manner.

"That wasn't part of the dare Y/N and I'm not doing such a lewd action out in public."

He did not let her glare deter him from patting the top of her head softly. Turning his back to her, he made way towards their hotel room calling out to her so she could follow him. When he didn't hear nor sense her following behind him, he quickly turned around and saw that instead she was walking towards the pool.

"Y/N I'm not going to tell you again. Get in the room right now and- No! Y/N no!"

He chased after her as if she was a misbehaving cat, internally cursing himself as he saw her entering the pool area. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her peel off her tight skinny jeans before diving into the pool, some of the water splashing onto him.

"Holy hell, please give me the strength to deal with her." He muttered to himself as he picked up her discarded clothing.

He just stood there both admiring and just guarding her as she freely swam around without a care in the world. Emerging from underwater, she swam up to where Yunho was and propped her elbows on the concrete.

"Join me Yuyu." She made it a point to use the nickname he favored and to glance at him with puppy dog eyes.

"No. It's late and you have gone wild enough for one night. Now come on, out you go now."

Extending his hand out, he ordered her to take it so he could pull her out of there. Having other thoughts in mind, Y/N acted as if she was giving in. As soon as she took his hand, she took advantage of his unguarded state to strongly pull him down into the water with her. Yunho came back out of the water with a shocked expression.

"Have you completely lost your mind?!" He shouted at her, wiping some of the dripping water off his face.

"Maybe. I don't know."

With absolutely no remorse, she pushed him towards the pool steps, making him sit down on one of them before straddling his lap. Not giving him a chance to ask, Y/N just cupped his cheeks and began to fervently kiss him, not lingering long on his lips as she preferred to attack his neck, biting and sucking at various points in an effort to leave purple and red spots all over his milky skin. Yunho's hands cupped her hips in a futile attempt to hold her still but ultimately failing as they seemed to have a mind of their own and wandered further down to cup her ass. Kneading at her cheeks, Yunho bucked his hips up at hers, head tilting to the side to allow her to nibble away as she pleased at his skin.

"Just what exactly do you want with all this?" Yunho finally asked.

Humming against his skin, she placed a sweet peck on the recent mark she made.

"I want you to suck my boobs." She repeated her words from before.

Taking his hands off her ass, she placed them on her chest, making them massage them as she liked them to be.

"That's it? You go through all this just to get your boobs sucked?" Yunho found it ridiculous yet cute.

Shaking her head, Y/N began bouncing on his lap.

"No I want you to fuck me." She blurted out.

Yunho immediately retracted her hands off her body, eyes not even blinking as he began processing what she just said. Gulping down an imaginary lump, he took a deep breath and gathered his strength and self control.

"Y/N, baby. You're probably too wasted to think straight. You don't know what you're saying. So let's just go back to the room and go to sleep. Don't want you regretting anything in the morning."

Even though he said it to her, he mostly meant it for himself. He didn't want to ruin anything they had already built up over the years just because of some stupid decision. Y/N however clung onto him when he attempted to let her go.

"I'm not wasted trust me. I'm in full use of my 5 senses and I mean it when I say I want you to fuck me Jeong Yunho."

Trying to seduce him one last time, she began to nibble at his earlobe, knowing he was sensitive around that area. Wanting to rile him up, she whispered in his ear.

"If not then that's ok..... I'm sure Seonghwa or Hongjoong won't mind me joining them for a night."

Instantly, she was lifted up by his strong arms and carried away towards their room.

"You're not spending the night with anyone but me."

Yunho nearly broke the door down from how hard he opened it, using his foot to slam it close behind them. Setting his friend down on the bed, he began to rid himself of his soaked clothes, letting them pile up into a short wet stack on the floor. Y/N bit down at her bottom lip as she took in the size of Yunho's cock. It was well above average and the thickness had her mouth watering. When Yunho came over to her, she tried to reach out and stroke it, but he quickly grabbed her wrist and stopped her from getting closer. Pushing her further on the bed until her head hit the headboard, Yunho reached under her back so he could unclasp her bra and free her boobs from their confinement.

"Are you really going to fuck me? Fuck me like one of your exes? I heard a few naughty and interesting rumors." She let out a soft giggle.

With darkening eyes, Yunho used one of his hands to wrap itself her neck, tightening around it so as to cut off her breathing for a brief moment.

"First of all, don't mention any of those skanks right now."

Releasing her neck, he peeled her panties off her legs and threw them across the room, ignoring where it landed. Taking both of her hands in his, he pressed his forehead against hers, his lips tenderly brushing against her own.

"And second of all, I'm not going to fuck you...."

Giving her a loving peck, he smiled at her.

"I'm going to make love to you."

Unlike his previous hungry kiss, this time his kisses were more soft and drawn out, as if he wanted to take his time in savoring each and every time his lips enveloped hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. Every once in a while, he'd tug at her bottom lip with his teeth in a playful way. Once he got her fill of tasting her mouth, his lips traveled down her chest, finally giving her what she'd ask for since the beginning. Looking up towards her, he took hold of one of her delectable breasts and brought his mouth close to it, tongue circling around the sensitive nipple before it disappeared inside his mouth. Yunho couldn't hide the proud smirk on his face whenever he felt Y/N squirm underneath him, back arching everytime he gave her tits a particularly long and hard suck. Pressing them together, he squeezed them into his large hands before taking both of her nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing over them. Taking notice of her change in breathing, Yunho couldn't resist himself in teasing her a little.

"Finally satisfied that you got what you wanted? You got your tits sucked, should I stop now?"

When he began moving away from her, Y/N pulled him back to land on top of her.

"No! You said you were going to make love to me." She whined at him, lips pouting out.

Pecking her pouty lips, Yunho began crawling down her body.

"I did say that and I'm following through on it."

Pulling her body close to his face, he ran his nose against her slippery folds. Parting her lips with 2 of his fingers, he delved his tongue into her hole, collecting some of her arousal and lapping it up with such ardent intensity. His face was practically smothering itself into her heat, her juices staining not only his nose but even his chin. But Yunho couldn't help himself as he continued to feast on her taste, his tongue flicking out against her clit before sucking more of her juices out of her. He loved having her roll her hips against his face, her eyes shut tight as she let herself get lost in the addicting feeling of having his mouth swallow her mound and folds. It boosted his confidence when he heard her moans get louder and her the rising of her chest become more agitated. By the way her thighs began to clench around his head, he knew she was going to cum any second. Before that could happen, he released her delicious clit from his mouth with a loud popping sound and climbed back on top of her body.

Before she could complain about him leaving her hanging, he began to pump himself slowly, the tip of his dick running across her folds. Looking at her one last time, he asked her one more time if she was ok with it. Instead of answering, she replaced his hand with her own, getting a low hiss to spill out from his lips as she began to stroke his length. Thumb playing with his slit, her mouth was occupied in kissing all over the marks she had previously made on his neck. Not wanting to waste any more time, she lined him up at her entrance and pushed him inside enough to get the tip in.

"Go ahead Yuyu." She encouraged him, her hands steadying themselves on his arms for support.

Slowly easing the rest of himself inch by inch in her, Yunho gave them both a few seconds to get adjusted before he began to expertly roll his hips. It was a slow and steady pace, but he made sure to hit deep enough for both of them to start moaning against their lips, which were never more than a few inches apart from each other. Yunho never took his eyes off her face, drinking up every single one of her facial expressions. He moved her hands off his arms so he could hold them in his own, their fingers intertwining with one another. He began to pick up his pace, hips slamming further onto her body. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Yunho captured her lips one more time in a desperate kiss. He only pulled away so she could hear what he had to say.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you back in high school, I've yearned to make you mine."

Y/N gasped when he sunk his teeth into her neck, his hands pressing her hard against the mattress as his thrusts became more forceful, ripping out whimper after whimper out of her throat.

"I tried to find someone else....hoping I'd get over you....but none compared to you. I've only ever wanted you."

Y/N was left completely speechless at his words, never imagining he'd actually feel the same way she felt about him. She could see the longing in his eyes and she had no doubts that her own were probably mirroring his feelings at that moment as well. Caressing his face, she found it difficult to get out any coherent words due to Yunho ramming his cock inside her, but eventually she found her voice.

"I love you Yunho."

His hips momentarily stopped when he heard those 4 words, his mind trying to decipher if it was real or another one of his fantasies. Knowing he was doubting what he heard, she repeated herself.

"I love you Yunho."

Lifting her up, Yunho sat her on top of him, his arms holding her so close to him, he could practically smother her.

"Say that again." He begged her.

Y/N began crying out when he began lifting her up and sinking her back down onto his cock, his hips relentlessly bucking up into her. His fingers were gripping onto the sides of her waist so hard they would probably leave prints for days to come. Her nails raked along his back, leaving scratch marks plastered on the top.

"I love you! I love you!" She began chanting loudly through chattering teeth and shaky breathing.

Yunho felt himself go feral at hearing her repeat her words, wanting to hear her say it for so many years.

"Fuck I love you too my darling."

When he shifted angles underneath her slightly, he brushed against her g-spot, making Y/N's whimpers turn even louder and her walls clenched tighter around him.

"Right there love? Does it feel good right there?" He cooed in her ear, fingers brushing against the bulge protruding out of her stomach.

Through tear brimmed eyes, Y/N frantically nodded.

"Yes! Right there feels good. Please keep going, I'm going to cum." She begged him, her nails digging sharply into his skin.

Yunho continued to stroke his hips up, watching intently as Y/N shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth. Holding onto her tightly, he witnessed as she began sputtering incoherent words while her body shook uncontrollably on top of him, her orgasm washing over her and coating Yunho's cock which was still sliding in and out of her. It was such a beautiful scene, seeing her dissolve into immense pleasure that he didn't fall far behind as he began pumping all of his cum into her, shooting a heavy load that some began to spill onto his thighs as he continued to bounce her on top of him, helping them both ride out their highs.

They were so exhausted they ended up collapsing on the bed, their breathing raspy and hoarse. Reaching his hand out, Yunho pulled her body back up against his, wanting to stay as close to her as possible. Brushing some of her hair out of her face, he wiped off some of the smudged eyeliner and mascara that had become messy.

"I look ugly don't I?" She questioned him.

"You're always gorgeous to me, although if you want my honest opinion, I think you're prettier without any makeup on." He nuzzled his nose against hers.

Snuggling close to him, Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling in his scent while her ears listened intently to the beating of his heart. Their fingers began to play with one another, bumping against each other or just clasping and unclasping back and forth.

"So does this make us....?" She looked up at him.

"I mean, I would hope so. I was literally balls deep inside you while I declared my love for you. I would expect us to be official at this rate."

They both laughed softly at his answer.

"We should have been honest with each other a long time ago." She lamented not saying anything before.

"I'll say, I could have been making love to you a long time ago."

Y/N squealed when Yunho flipped her over, making her lie face down while pushing her legs apart.

"Y-Yunho! Already?" She couldn't stop blushing as she felt his dick poking at her ass.

"What can I say beautiful? You rile me up as if I was a teenager again." He had absolutely no shame as he began pushing inside her once again.

"But what if they hear us?" She pointed to the walls, knowing fully well her friends were probably already back in their rooms by now.

Yunho didn't seem to care as he fully shoved himself inside her folds and pressed open mouth kisses on the nape of her neck.

"Well then I hope they brought ear plugs."

✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez yunho #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez college au #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho angst #ateez yunho imagines #ateez yunho fanfiction #ateez yunho fanfic #ateez yunho fluff #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho angst #jeong yunho fanfic #jeong yunho fanfiction #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho smut

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the word fa*ry once] Reader fucking SNAPS.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The five of us rode our bikes down the road to school, El on the back of Mike's bike as usual. She seemed eager to soak in everything around her like she would never see it again. Wind brushed the wig aside and she clung tightly to Mike.

Mike was beginning to slow down, the group of us all growing tired from the ride. Soon enough, however, we were walking through the back doors to the schools. Mike was in the lead as he turns to speak to us as we walked.

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Boys? Lady." He nodded towards El.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Henderson?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

Dustin swung open the gymnasium doors far too hard and the loud bang echoed throughout the gym that had drawn the attention of the crowd. I elbow Dustin. I feel him shifting on his feet beside me as panic sets in.

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Will Byers' death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro."

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

My head whipped to the side when I heard hushed chuckling. I wasn't surprised to see Troy and his friend as the source of the laughter. I glared daggers into them and my hands gripped the edge of my seat until I was sure my knuckles would tear.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I saw fear in his eyes as he glanced between my eye line and my hands. I looked down at my own hands to see the dangerously strong grip on the wood. I yanked my hands off the bench and rubbed my hands together, keeping to myself.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

"You heard me! And how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not an orphan if I was adopted, you dumbass! Now what the hell is in that tiny brain of yours that would compel you to laugh at someone dying, huh? I mean, shit, you must really be sick in the head. I feel sorry for you." I spit out my last few words, my voice dripping with malice.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'brother', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, he's right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood on his hands. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gakwed in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

It finally dawned on me and I spared a quick glance at El, who was laser-focused on Troy, head tilted down and the smallest hint of blood dripping from her nose. I smirked and looked back to Troy, a smug smile on my face.

I couldn't hold back the laughter as I saw his pants begin to dampen with urine. A stream of it began pooling at his leg, and it even soaked into his socks and shoes. Other students caught on quickly and one boy in particular, began laughing.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

The circle of kids erupted into laughter as Troy stood frozen in a puddle of his own pee. I turned to El, who wore a devilish smirk on her face as she glanced between Mike and me. She quickly wiped her nose and started walking away. The boys and I enjoyed this brief moment of bliss.

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #x m!reader #x male!reader #the body #tw homophobia #tw fairy slur

[nugnthopkns]

find somewhere to grow

word count: 23.1k

warnings: fem!oc, platonic relationships (romance is not a central theme but there is some pining!), divergence from original movie plot, cursing, smoking, implied catholicism, strenuous parental relationships

recommended listening: it's a good life if you don't weaken' | the tragically hip

a/n: hi @ya-pucking-nerd!! the secret is out – i'm your partner for the summer fic exchange 🥰 this is an incredibly niche story but as soon as i found out you loved dead poets society i knew i had to do it!! it's half au half retelling with all of my dumbassery included but i hope you enjoy anyways. the biggest of thanks goes out to @antoineroussel for organizing this event, generally being amazing, and providing feedback to make this story the best it could be 💛

The only thing separating Fran from freedom is ten months at Hell-ton.

As soon as May comes she’ll be as far away as possible, hopefully somewhere in Europe, with no plans to ever return. Her parents agreed that she could spend the summer after graduation travelling the world if she maintained her straight A average at the best preparatory school in the country. Welton Academy is located on the edge of a small north-eastern town, with the only other building within walking distance being its sister school. It’s incredibly isolating, but luckily Fran has her friends to keep the loneliness at bay.

As her dad rounds the final corner of the school’s obnoxiously long private road, Fran’s stomach flutters with excitement. It’s been nearly two months since she’s seen anyone – Nate, Cale, and Tyson scattered like dust in the wind to various accounting firms across the country and Charlotte returned to England to spend time with her family. An eight week internship at a law firm kept her busy throughout the break, and Fran’s beyond happy it’s over. She has no interest in being a legal secretary, but her father is adamant. The car engine cuts off and Fran opens the door, running ahead of her parents into the auditorium. If she’s lucky one of her friends will appear and she’ll be able to sneak in a quick hello, hopefully losing her parents for good in the crowd.

“Francesca, that’s enough. Quit gallivanting around and walk beside us,” Fran’s father barks. A stern man overly concerned with appearances, he opens the car door for her mother and watches as the teenager sulk back to them.

Her mother shakes her head and tries to reason with him. “Oh Conrad, give the poor girl a break. She spent the entire summer cooped up at your brother’s firm. She just wants to see her friends.”

“She can reunite with them at the appropriate time. Right now she’s to sit with us at the ceremony. What kind of message does it send if we let her run about willy-nilly?”

The conversation ends right there, and the three of them enter the school in silence. Inside the auditorium the first three rows are reserved for senior students and family, so everyone finds seats in the middle. Fran begins to crane her neck to look behind them for a glimpse of her friends, but a swift elbow from her father has Fran facing forward in a millisecond.

Mr. Pratt’s bagpiping troupe comes bursting through the doors, and the sound echoes off the vaulted ceiling. Fran pinches her forehead in hopes of dispelling the oncoming headache she feels and prays to god and the saints above that this goes by fast. The countdown to graduation starts now. Headmaster Sakic struts up the aisle, robe swishing from the movement. The other teachers follow dutifully behind and once everyone is seated the address starts.

“Welcome back to another year at Welton, and if you’re new here we are pleased to have you,” the ancient-looking man drawls. Nate always insists that he’s a ghost, and from the angle she’s seated at Fran kind of sees it. Sakic looks about as old as dirt, and the rest of the faculty looks comparable. She sees one new face – younger than the rest with a slightly mischievous glint in his eye. Perhaps he’s the new English teacher, Fran thinks.

The speech continues, addressing parents about expectations and rankings within the country, but Fran loses interest rather quickly. It’s been the same thing since she enrolled in the sixth grade, surely they would have come up with a new format or something. Her father seems to be enjoying himself, beaming when the headmaster mentions that over half the graduating class will go on to attend an Ivy League. “That will be you,” he whispers. Fran isn’t quite sure how to tell him she doesn't plan on applying to any of them.

After what feels like a million years the ceremony is over, and she follows her folks out of the room. Headmaster Sakic stops the family on the way out. “Francesca,” he greets. “We’ll be sad to see you leave at the end of the year. Hopefully you’ll finish your time at Welton on a high note.”

She thought a simple nod of her head would suffice, but the glare Fran receives from her father says otherwise. “Yes sir,” she sputters.

The administrator quickly exchanges pleasantries with her parents before moving on to the next family. Thankfully no one speaks of Fran’s ‘disrespect’ as luggage full of her belongings are taken from the trunk and carried to the dormitory, but she imagines her mother will hear an earful on the way home. Fran can’t find the energy in her to care, even though she does feel bad about leaving her mother to deal with the monster that can be her father. Reuniting with her friends is the only thing she can think about, and besides, her father thoroughly enjoys having something to complain about.

Pushing the door of her room open, she sees Charlotte with her back to the door unpacking her clothes. Before Fran can help it, a squeal is falling from her lips and she drops her bags, immediately running into her friend’s arms for a hug.

“Fran!” she shrieks, just as happy to see the auburn haired girl with emerald eyes. “I’m so glad to be back, the weather in England was downright dreadful.” At the sight of Fran’s parents Charlotte backs away, offering them a tight-lipped smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Winters.”

They return the favour, nodding their heads in her direction before giving their daughter a final hug. After making her promise to call once a week, they leave Fran in peace. Charlotte flops on her bed, tie going askew, and Fran is quick to follow.

“Can you believe it’s our last year?” she asks, kicking her feet into the air and letting them bounce off the mattress when they come down.

Fran answers earnestly. “No. It seems like just yesterday we were moving in for the first time.”

Charlotte spills the details about how Tyson secretly came to visit her in the summer, and Fran gushes over their blossoming romance. The rest of the group clued into their feelings years ago, but she’s just happy they finally figured it out themselves and got together. Cale now owes Fran twenty dollars since he lost the bet.

Wanting to go and see her other friends as quickly as possible, Fran shoves clothes into random drawers and haphazardly makes her bed. She doesn’t even bother to set up her typewriter. Charlotte chuckles at the eagerness but she just shrugs. “Ready?”

The walk to the boys’ dormitory is a quick one. Located two floors above their own, the girls are there in no time. Finding their friends is the challenge, as neither Fran nor Charlotte have any idea what rooms they’re in. Fran hears them before she sees them, with Cale shouting as he chases Nate down the hall.

“Get back here you asshole! And give me back my book!”

Nate laughs and speeds up. “Never in a million years. I didn’t even know you could read Calesy.” The broad rascal sees Fran approaching and tosses her the object he’s holding. “Fran, catch!”

Feeling sorry for Cale, she sticks the book out for him to retrieve. “Thanks,” he huffs, slightly out of breath. “You ladies settle in alright?”

“Settle? Do you know our dear Francesca at all? As soon as her parents were back in the car she was practically dragging me here,” Charlotte says matter-of-factly, poking her friend in the ribs to continue the teasing.

Fran doesn't even try to refute the statement or defend herself by saying she let her spill some secrets before itching to get out. “What can I say? I missed my boys.”

It’s then the other young man comes into view. Stepping into the hallway, Tyson quickly jogs to where the rest of the group is chatting. Fran’s swept into a bone crushing hug by the Albertan and her feet lift an inch or two off the ground. A summer of training for the upcoming hockey season has Tyson extra muscular, though she isn’t complaining. He’ll now be able to boost her into the taller trees in order to win the stupid compitions Nate insists on having. Once he lets go, Fran waves hello to his roommate Ryan. He gives a quick hug followed by a pat on the head because he hit a growth spurt in the summer and is now a comfortable couple inches taller than her. The five of them leave Ryan in the hall and head back in the direction of the boys’ rooms, conveniently located beside each other.

One look at Charlotte has Fran realizing she’s itching for a proper reunion with her lover. “Nathan, would you care to join me for another installment of ‘Bed Jumpers’?” she asks, praying he won’t be able to turn the opportunity down. He’s always game for causing a ruckus and it’s one of the things that she loves most about him.

He shoots her a mischievous grin and does his best radio announcer impression. “On this week’s programme we’re taking a deep dive into the bed of Mr. Cale Makar. Will it pass the tests and get the bed jumpers seal of approval? We’re about to find out.” Nate grabs Fran’s hand and starts sprinting, hoping to get to the destination before his much faster friend. Out of nowhere butterflies appear in the girl’s stomach, and she can’t decide whether they’re present because she missed Nate or if they’re lingering from the former crush she had on the boy.

“Why does it have to be my bed?” Cale groans, following dejectedly. Only Tyson and Charlotte hesitate to follow, and Fran shoots them a quick wink over her shoulder as a ‘you’re welcome’ gesture.

The other two don’t notice their absence, and truthfully Fran doesn’t feel it for long. It’s so nice to share space again with the ones she cares about most. She tries not to focus on the fact that this is the last time she’ll be able to do this, insteading honing in on Nate’s laughter as he does a ridiculous dance with the sole intention of messing up Cale’s sheets. Eventually he stops reprimanding the two of them and climbs up – Fran offers her hand and Cale eagerly accepts. They’re still jumping when Charlotte and Tyson return, singing horribly off key to the Buddy Holly song that’s been atop the charts recently.

“I really thought you guys would have been over this by now,” Charlotte sighs, rolling her eyes. Her boyfriend just shrugs, not knowing exactly what to say.

She’s the first to stop jumping, plopping down in the middle of the bed. Everyone else quickly follows suit, and though it’s a tight squeeze, they all sit side-by-side. The twin bed frame groans in protest but no one pays it any mind. It’s as though everyone knows each moment together is precious, and they’re running out of time together. Nate and Tyson are set to become Wall Street investors, Charlotte will be going into nursing, and Cale is staying at Welton to assume a junior teaching position. It seems that only Fran’s future is uncertain – parents urging her to go into the legal field but she wants to do nothing more than write. Creatively, journalistically, it doesn’t matter to her. Fran finds the act of writing to be freeing, but her father has made it clear it will not be a fulfilling career. As if being cooped up in an office staring at court reports is any better.

“It’s too nice a day to waste inside,” Nate groans, “Let’s go to the lake.”

The lake in question is a glorified pond, but it provides a picturesque backdrop for Welton’s recruitment brochures. Located behind the main building, it houses a small dock where several row boats are stored. Crew rowing is quite a popular sport, and Welton has one of the best rowing teams along the Eastern Seaboard, second in prestige only to the school’s hockey program. The group isn’t the only one with the bright idea to soak up the sun’s rays on the last truly calm day, and the lawn is packed with students. The area they’ve inhabited for as long as Fran can remember is free, and the five of them race to claim it. An ancient weeping willow provides shade and cover from nosy teachers, but there’s also good access to the water to dip their feet in. Swimming is strictly prohibited, however most teachers would look the other way if the sun was being particularly cruel. Hours pass like seconds in the safe haven of the willow, and before Fran knows it all the students are being summoned for dinner.

“Hope they’ve got at least one good meal in them this year,” Cale grumbles. The rosy-cheeked boy has a point — Welton’s kitchen staff are notorious for providing lackluster nutrition. Everyone seems to be in agreement, and chats idly about potential food choices all the way to the dining hall.

The chefs must have decided to ease into the grim selection of overcooked meat and vegetables this year, because tonight they’re serving roast beef. Plate in hand, Fran waves goodbye to the boys and follows Charlotte to the table. For reasons unbeknownst to her, the dining situation is separated. It doesn’t make sense to anyone since classes are all integrated, but she supposes it’s the administration’s feeble attempt to maintain order. Too much contact with the opposite sex could detract from studies – Fran imagines the rule is in place for the benefit of the boys.

From dinner everyone is sequestered directly to their rooms. Charlotte quickly sneaks a final kiss from Tyson’s lips before the rest of the friend group continues to climb the staircase. Fran teases her relentlessly once inside the confines of their shared room. “God, you’re like a lovesick puppy!” The comment earns her a swat to the head with a pair of stockings.

“Shut up. You’d be the exact same way.”

She supposes Charlotte’s right. Perhaps she would be as loopy with love if there was someone to share it with. However, she has no intention of getting a boyfriend, even though sometimes she lays awake at night thinking about what it would be like, and several times Nate has been the object of those daydreams. Nothing is going to get in the way of making every last memory possible with her friends.

Sleep comes easy. She’s exhausted from the hustle and bustle of moving, but also from the content she feels being back at school. Though it isn’t always easy, Welton has become more of a home to her than the house she grew up in. This is largely in part to her friends but she wouldn’t change it for the world. That night she dreams of a life where the five of them are never separated.

Morning comes much too quickly for Fran’s liking. If it were up to her, classes wouldn’t start until at least ten. The ringing of Charlotte’s alarm clock jolts her awake, and she squints through the darkness to see it reads 6:45. There’s exactly half an hour before she has to be downstairs for breakfast.

“Ugh, why must we get up so early,” Fran groans, looking over to see that Charlotte is pulling on her sweater, already dressed for the day.

She laughs at her roommate’s sluggishness. “I’ve been up for ages. Suppose my body still isn’t used to the time change.”

“You think by now it would be.”

Charlotte just shrugs, not having an answer. She may be a science student, but even that knowledge evades her. The two of them finish getting dressed and rush to the bathroom. If they don’t get there before everyone else, the line to brush their teeth becomes unbearable. A few other girls are moving around, but the floor is mostly quiet. Fran doubts the boys’ floor is the same – they’re always jumping around and giving the Head Boy more grief than he deserves. The bell rings, signaling the dining hall is ready for students. Fran and Charlotte head for the stairs, and meet up with Cale.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asks.

He rolls his eyes and Fran knows he’s already had to deal with a handful. “It seems they’re a little slow this morning,” he sighs. “Oh, before I forget, we’ve got a table booked tonight for a study group. Eight sharp, don’t be late.”

After getting a verbal confirmation that both girls will be in attendance, Cale splits from them to sit with the other senior boys. Breakfast today is simple: eggs and toast, but it will keep them going until lunch. Charlotte chats excitedly about the new biology curriculum and Fran half listens. The only reason she’s still in science is because it’s mandatory. If she had the choice her timetable would be filled with English courses, but alas, Welton only offers standard English as opposed to additional creative writing courses. It’s not as though her father would let her take them anyways. Instead, Fran’s day is spent in a bunch of courses she could care less about.

Biology, Chemistry, and Latin pass without incident. Every class has the same spiel: students are to do well in order to get into Ivy Leagues and to keep Welton in the top spot of all preparatory academies in the country. The teaching staff don’t care if they learn anything — everything is all about keeping up appearances. Homework is piled on to maintain the rigorous academic schedule supported by the administration, and by the time lunch rolls around Fran’s collected a solid three hours of work. It’s all due the next day because doesn’t believe in easing students back into the swing of things.

“This is all so mindless,” she complains to her friends during the noon break.

Cale immediately comes to the defense of his future colleagues. “It isn’t them,” he explains. “The system is deeply flawed and needs an overhaul.”

“Shut up Calesy, you’re literally less than a year away from becoming one of them,” Nate pipes in. “I agree with Fran. Everything about this place sucks.”

“Except for us,” Tyson chimes.

Nate shoots his friend a toothy grin. “Right you are Tys.”

The five of them joke around until the bell rings, signalling the end of break and the start of the second half of the day. Trigonometry, Geography, and History are the same as every other class. The constant reminder of what they have to achieve is becoming unbearable, and by the time English starts Fran is so sick of hearing the same three sentences. It’s bad enough she’ll be letting down her parents with her decision to attend a publicly funded college, but now she’ll be letting her school down as well.

Fran shuffles into her seat behind Tyson and waits for the teacher to arrive. “I heard he’s new, fresh out of a post-doctorate program from Oxford,” he whispers.

“Maybe he’ll teach us something interesting,” she huffs. Tyson laughs, but knows she’s serious. The lack of originality in the English department has been a thorn in Fran’s side since ninth grade.

Without warning the overhead lights cut out, leaving everyone in the dark. Murmurs of what could have happened erupt but they’re turned back on just as quickly. Searching for the culprit, Fran turns in her seat to see the doorway and comes face to face with an exuberant man. He winks when they lock eyes, like the two of them are sharing a secret. “Follow me,” he cheers, and exits just as fast as he appeared.

The students look hesitantly between each other. No one knows what to do – teachers at Welton aren’t like this. They don’t spontaneously host lessons someplace else and certainly don’t get their pupils’ attention by rattling a lightswitch.

“Something about this doesn’t sit quite right,” Charlotte whispers, and others nod in agreement. Everyone stays firmly planted in their seats. Fran thought that Nate might follow, since he typically does things in reckless abandon, but even he looks uneasy. A knot in her stomach says that the man, whoever he was, is the teacher and everyone is putting themselves in a risky position by not following his orders.

Before she can commit to leaving the room he comes back. “Don’t you want today’s lesson? You’ll be awfully behind otherwise.”

It’s settled. With a bit more coaxing, everyone picks up their books and files out of the room. The whispers only increase as the students follow the teacher, wondering where he could be taking them. “This is how we die,” Cale mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets in frustration.

“We aren’t going to die Cale,” Tyson reasons. “Perhaps the lesson is better suited for outside.”

The rosy-cheeked boy isn’t convinced. “He’s taking us to a secondary location, Tys! That’s standard procedure for murders.”

“No one is dying,” Fran sighs, grabbing them both by the elbows in an effort to keep up to the rest of the class. “I think we’re just heading to the library. Makes sense for an English class, don’t you think?”

Sure enough, the group of teenagers grinds to a halt outside the library’s double doors. It’s silent as they wait for new instructions. Nothing comes – instead everyone is ushered into the room. Winding through the aisles and statue replicas, the front of the group stops at a section of study tables. The library is deserted so the class chatters freely, unable to disturb anyone. The still unidentified man clears his throat to get everyone’s attention. “My sincerest apologies for the kerfuffle. I just wanted us to talk in a bit more of a natural setting. I’m Mr. Bednar, though I also respond to ‘O Captain, my Captain’. We’ll be spending the year together. This is my first teaching position in a few years, but I’m very excited to learn together. Who wants to introduce themselves first?”

It’s silent. Despite all the curveballs Mr. Bednar has thrown today, it’s clear no one was expecting this. The other teachers don’t make attempts to know their students – all interactions are sterile and removed. Eventually the silence becomes too much and Nate speaks up. “Hello, I’m Nathan MacKinnon, but please call me Nate,” he says. Fran is glad he’s fearless because there was no way she was speaking first.

“Thank you for taking the first leap Mr. MacKinnon,” the teacher laughs. “Anyone else?”

One by one, each student rhymed off their name. Fran falls somewhere in the middle, not wanting to seem too eager but also not wanting to be seen as a slacker. English is the subject she enjoys the most, and she wants to develop a good relationship with the teacher. “Francesca Winters,” she sputters nervously, and Cale tries to cover up a laugh with a cough. Fran jabs him in the ribs in retaliation, and swears she sees the teacher’s eyes crinkle, hinting at a smile.

“Pleasure to have you, Miss Winters. I heard from some of the other teachers that you have quite the knack for writing.���

Fran blushes profusely and her friends snicker beside her. Charlotte whispers something in her ear, but Fran doesn’t hear, too focussed on trying not to curl into a ball from embarrassment. The last thing she wants is for someone to have high expectations of her and not be able to live up to them. Mr. Bednar talks for a bit about the structure of the course and it seems entertaining. Classes are to be discussions, not lectures, and she’s excited because it’s like no other course at Welton. The typical pressure of scoring high on tests is gone, allowing Fran and the others to focus on enjoying the content. Mr. Bednar makes it very clear that his sole purpose is to help them learn to think for themselves and expand their literary horizons. When the bell rings, signalling the end of day, Fran can’t help but be a little upset. At least there will be one class she won’t dread.

☼☼☼☼

By the time Fran and Charlotte get to the fourth floor common room, the boys look like they’ve already given up on work. Nate is deeply invested in building a transistor radio from scratch, Tyson is aimlessly looking at the ceiling, and Cale is pinching his brow in frustration. At the arrival of his girlfriend Tyson seems to gain more life, sitting up straight and offering her a bright smile. “Study group, eh?” Fran smirks as she sets her books down, shoving Cale’s shoulder slightly. He offers her a tense smile that looks more like a grimace and returns to his book.

“Calesy’s just upset that he’s the only one who doesn’t understand the trig problem,” Nate sing-songs. A death glare is sent his way by the other boy, and a snarky comment rolls off Cale’s tongue.

“At least I give enough fucks to try and figure it out instead of copying Tyson’s answer like you did,” he huffs. “Some of us actually care about getting an education.”

A scuffle breaks out amongst the two of them when Nate lunges at Cale, forgetting it’s no longer a fair fight. Though in good shape, Cale’s athleticism pales in comparison to his friend’s. Too tired to break up the fight, Fran opens her chemistry textbook and begins working on the problem set. Dr. Sakic, in charge of patrolling the floor tonight, hears the racket the boys are causing and rushes into the room.

“Mr. MacKinnon and Mr. Makar,” he booms, voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. The horse play ends immediately, and both of them sink into their seats. “I expected better from you both.”

“Sorry Sir,” they apologize in tandem, too afraid to meet the man’s gaze.

The headmaster gives them a sharp nod. “Any more nonsense this week and I’ll keep you here for the break. You’ll have a wonderful time cleaning the chalk brushes.” Without another word, he turns on his heel to exit the room, but spins around when a sound comes from the speaker that had hastily been shoved into Tyson’s lap to protect it during the scuffle. “That better not be a radio in your hands Mr. Jost,” Dr. Sakic says pointedly. “You know they’re forbidden at Welton.”

“Of course it’s not Sir,” Tyson stammers. “It’s a science project. A radar. Just want to get an early start.”

The old man nods in approval and leaves the room, but not before giving it another sweep with his hawk-like eyes.

Silence overtakes the table out of fear, and by the grace of god Fran doesn’t struggle with the problem set. Nate gets her to help explain the one question he doesn’t understand, and once the work is done they all relax for the last half hour before curfew. No one really talks, enjoying the silence that rarely overtakes the group. Tyson and Charlotte cuddle into the large armchair in the corner and talk in hushed tones, leaving the rest of them to their own devices.

Fran tries her hardest to commit every detail to memory. Sounds, sights, smells – anything to help her remember the joy and contentment she feels. Come this time next year things will be vastly different and she wants to have a bank of memories to escape to when things get tough.

☼☼☼☼

Routine paints Fran’s life a dull shade of grey. There isn’t much she can do to combat it – Welton prides itself on a rigorous schedule that leaves no room for imagination. All extracurriculars besides the annual yearbook club are professional and promote the school’s code of conduct. The school newspaper was to be her magnum opus, her lasting impression upon Welton, but she was forced to resign as editor-in-chief by her father. The phone call had been filled with tears as Fran tried to argue with him, to make him see reason. It was no use because he was convinced the paper was a waste of time and wouldn’t make her college applications stand out. Fran’s mother said nothing, choosing not to insert herself into the matter. There was nothing she could do except sign the resignation paper and clear out her desk.

September passes by in a blur. Homework keeps Fran busy and her friends do the best they can to keep the sadness of losing the editorial position at bay. Charlotte is at her side nearly around the clock, always with a smile and a shoulder to confide in. Cale keeps her mind active by giving book recommendations once a week, and the other two help in any way they know how, whether that’s stealing snacks from the kitchen or letting Fran borrow sweaters when she gets cold. The year would be much more challenging and lonely if she didn’t have them.

The only place she truly feels joy is Mr. Bednar’s English class. Unlike the other teachers at Welton, he allows her to think for herself and express different viewpoints. Classes are spent reciting passages from novels and dancing around the classroom. It’s a Friday before a long weekend and Fran’s expecting to be assigned a lot of homework. She grumbles with Nate as they step into the room, and to her surprise the desks are all pushed to the side.

“Place your stuff on a desk and then huddle around,” Mr. Bednar shouts gleefully, sitting on his own. Eager to see what he has in store, she and the other students follow his directions. Nearly a month with the unconventional teacher has them used to these random class setups, and Fran imagines there will be a useful lesson at the end.

“Today’s class is all about realizing what you want in life,” he explains. “Each of you has ten minutes to envision what you hope your life looks like in ten years. Then you’ll act it out to your peers.”

“Sir, what does this have to do with English?” Tyson asks.

“Ah Mr. Jost, always asking the important questions,” the teacher chuckles. “You’ll have to write me a paper about your realizations of course. Just a small one, one page will suffice. The purpose of this exercise is to help you think outside the academic lens. None of you will be in school forever, and I think it will be beneficial for you to start to think about your futures outside an academic context.”

Mr. Bendar whistles loudly, and the brainstorming time begins. Shrugging her shoulders in compliance to her friends’ anxious stares, Fran screws her eyes shut and lets her mind wander. Almost immediately something comes to mind: she hopes to be at a book signing for her latest bestseller with her friends in the audience. Her parents couldn’t make it, but that’s okay – she doesn’t talk to them often anymore. After the event she brings everyone back to her apartment on the top floor of a swanky building and they enjoy each other’s company until the early hours of the morning. Fran feels warm and content and wants to stay in the daydream forever, but another whistle jostles her free and reality makes its unfortunate return.

“Any volunteers to go first?” Mr. Bednar asks with a smile on his face. A boy who looks far too small to be in twelfth grade timidly sticks up his hand. Fran recognizes him to be one of the few transfer students the school accepted this year, and gives him a thumbs up in encouragement. He introduces himself as Nico and depicts a fantasy where he’s the youngest senator in the country’s history and has everyone betting he’ll be president once he reaches the age requirement. It seems like an awful lot of work to her, but at least he has a dream his parents approve of. Other students follow, but Fran zones out. It dawns on her that Welton sends monthly reports home and if her father finds out she’s propecizing about being an author he’ll pull her out of school without a second thought. She begins to brainstorm an acceptable answer, something about being a legal secretary.

Eventually everyone has gone but Fran. “Miss Winters, would you do the honours of closing out the exercise?”

A lump forms in the back of her throat, and it’s all she can do to push it down. “Of course Captain,” she stumbled over the words. Charlotte squeezes Fran’s hand to ground her, and she sends her friend a thankful glance. Her legs tremble slightly as she moves to the center of the room – she really has to sell this. “When I look ten years into the future,” she began, “I see myself balancing a successful career in law and having a family. Of course I’ll only be working part time, as the kids will come first. I’ll live in a quaint little house in my hometown and spend a lot of time helping my aging parents. It will be a wonderful life.” Fran picks her brain quickly for any other aspirations her father might have, but can’t think of any, so she begins to return to her spot on the floor.

“Why are you lying to us?”

Fran’s shocked – she thought she had done a good job at selling the fantasy she detests more than anything in the world. “I beg your pardon?”

Mr. Bednar gestures for her to return to the spotlight, and she dejectedly shuffles backwards. “Franecsca, I asked you to share your hopes and dreams, not those of your parents. Do you really think Nico’s dad wants him to become a crooked politician? Of course not, they want him to become a doctor! We all have our own desires, so what are yours?”

A quick glance at her friends lets her know they’re cheering her on, and Fran recounts everything she saw when she first closed her eyes. The signing, the party, the unbridled joy she felt – nothing is held back. At some point Mr. Bednar encourages her to share what the book will be about, and before Fran can stop herself she’s reciting lines from a novel that hasn’t even been written. It’s exhilarating to picture a life that’s completely her own, and she doesn't know if she’ll be able to stop. Once she’s exhausted every possible plot line and characterization, Fran sinks to the floor in a proud exhaustion. Her teacher sends a charming wink her way before speaking. “Well, that just about does it for today. I have nothing else planned. Want to go play a game of soccer?”

On the way to the field, Fran’s friends shower her with compliments and praise. “That was fantastic darling,” Charlotte gushes. Tyson agrees with her, applauding Fran’s bravery for being true to herself.

Nate chimes in. “You have to write that book! I won’t stop hounding you until it’s done.”

“I don’t know Nate,” she sighs. “It was just a dream. We all have a life planned out for us in the real world.”

“But that could be your real world, Fran!” Tyson argues. “You sound so in love with the idea, and you’re the only one I know who could pull it off.”

Fran’s cheeks blush rose at her friend’s words. Only Cale is yet to say anything, so she shoots him a quizzical look. “What do you think Calesy?”

“I think,” he states, a broad smile across his features, “That you’ve already sold five copies of that novel of yours.”

☼☼☼☼

A few weeks later, Tyson knocks ferociously on the girls’ dorm room door after the annual club meeting. He’s junior supervisor, second in command only to Mr. Arthur, the Latin teacher. It’s a Thursday night, and their room is the designated spot for unwinding because the matron, Nancy, is kind and lets the boys stay a few minutes after curfew, telling their supervisor they were assisting her. “Look what I found!” he says excitedly, flipping an old book open to a specific page that doesn’t make sense to anyone but him. Tyson softens once he sees Charlotte, kissing her gently on the forehead. “Hello dear,” he whispers tenderly.

His girlfriend giggles before pointing to the annual. “Tell us what this is about!”

“Ah yes,” Tyson says, finally getting on track. “This is the annual from 1943. Guess who was in the graduating class?”

The rest of the group studies the pictures and all shout the answer at the same time. “Mr. Bednar!”

“Yep. And look right under his name, which I didn’t peg him to be a Adam, there’s a club I’ve never seen before. The Society For Banned and Burned Books, what is that?”

No one has an answer. “We should ask him tomorrow,” Nate suggests. “Find him outside during the afternoon break. I’m sure he’d tell us what it’s about.”

A knock rings out for the second time that night. Nancy peeks her head in and waves the boys to hurry up. “I’ve kept you out later than normal,” she says kindly, “but it’s time you return to your own dormitories.” Goodbyes are said and a makeshift plan is hatched. Sleep doesn’t come easy as Fran is too excited to find out about the club that is no longer offered at Welton.

The Society for Banned and Burned Books is all Fran can think of. The name is so vague – it could mean a million different things. How is she to know the truth? She’s distracted the entire morning, losing focus as her mind wanders through the different possibilities. In chemistry she almost ruins the experiment because she isn’t paying attention, and the titration would have been ruined if Tyson hadn’t caught it in time. Judging by the absent stares that Fran occasionally catches, the rest of the group isn’t doing much better. The question is eating everyone alive.

After what feels like three years, the bell that signals the start of break chimes. Fran’s out of her seat in an instant, and the others are close on her heels. Once outside, she notices no one is there yet, and they all take refuge under the willow tree by the lake. Slowly students and staff trickle into the yard but Mr. Bednar still doesn’t appear. Cale has the genius idea that he might be supervising a different part of the grounds, and the five of them make the trek up the hill. The man in question is sitting on a bench near the edge of the property, watching a group of elementary kids play in the sandpit.

“Mr. Bednar,” Nate shouts, even though the group is still a hundred and fifty yards away from him, “We have a question!”

There’s no response. The older man doesn’t give them the time of day, instead focusing on a particular patch of flowers that seem to be dwindling in health. Tyson tries this time to get his attention. “O Captain, my Captain!”

The English teacher waves them over enthusiastically, chuckling to himself as he watches the boys race each other to see who gets there first. Charlotte and Fran are hot on their heels, not wanting to miss any information that might be vital.

“What’s going on?” The older man asks, looking for a reason to explain the sudden outburst of five students approaching him on the break.

Tyson pulls the annual out from his jacket and flips it to the page he marked with a piece of Fran’s stationary kit. “What’s the Society for Banned and Burned Books? None of us have ever seen the club offered at Welton?”

Suddenly, everyone is being pulled closer and Mr. Bednar is speaking in hushed tones. “Don’t you dare mention it to anyone,” he says, and the look in his eyes tells Fran he means business. “That little club nearly got me expelled, and if the administration catches whiff of it again my goose will be cooked. What fun it was, though, to sneak out under the cover of darkness and read things that actually expanded our minds.” When he realizes none of the children in front of him understand what he’s going on about, Mr. Bednar clarifies. “The name implies what we were all about. We’d read books that had been banned by the school board or things European regimes set ablaze. It was thrilling. I have a feeling I wouldn’t be the scholar I am today if it hadn't been for the Society.”

The bell rings again, signalling the return of classes. Everyone thanks the teacher for his honesty, and with a heavy sigh begins the trek back to the school building. When the group is almost within earshot of other staff they hear Mr. Bednar shout, “It met twice a month!”

Later in the evening, at dinner, a folded up piece of paper makes its way to the table where the girls were eating dinner. Charlotte opens it quickly, knowing it’s from the boys, and Fran presses against her side to read it. We’re resurrecting the Society tonight. You guys in? it says in Nate’s chicken scratch. Fran looks up to see them staring at her, waiting for an answer. Charlotte looks at her friend in silent deliberation, and a second later they’ve both made up their minds. Three nods, the group’s secret code for yes, is thrown in the boys’ direction, and she catches Tyson fist pumping out of the corner of her eye.

“How are we doing this?” Fran asks Cale as everyone exits the dining hall. “We barely know what it’s even about.”

He just shrugs. “There was a package on Tys’s desk when he got back from class. It had a bunch of books and a note signed J.B. We all just assumed it was from Mr. Bednar.”

It seems to be the only explanation Fran’s going to get. Honestly, the idea of breaking the rules for once in her life is incredibly enticing, so there’s no way she’s letting the boys carry on without her. There’s no doubt that Charlotte is already planning the escape route to the small cave just off Welton’s property, so it seems her fate is decided. As Fran climbs the stairs she discusses logistics with Cale and learns that Tyson has it all figured out – after all the staff have gone to sleep, everyone will sneak out of bed and meet in the dormitory’s west stairwell before running across the yard to avoid being caught. It will be easy enough and Fran isn't worried. As long as she brings a treat to distract Spot, Dr. Sakic’s dog, things should go off without a hitch. At the landing for her floor she says her goodbyes to Cale before skipping down the hallway.

Fran spends the next few hours pacing the length of her bed. Charlotte tries to calm her nerves, but it’s no use. She’s just as excited and keyed-up as Fran, so together they pass the time by making up silly songs. It takes them to lights out in the blink of an eye, and when Nancy comes in to give a final warning there’s a full blown concert in the works, complete with hairbrush microphones.

“Good night girls,” she says, a knowing smile on her face. She definitely notices the electric excitement running through the room, bouncing rapidly between the two girls, but doesn’t say anything.

Charlotte says good night for the both of them as Fran slips into the hall to use the bathroom. When she returns, her roommate is perched on the windowsill, book in hand. The pair of them have to find quiet ways to distract from the slow passage of time, not wanting to risk staff members staying up to check on them if they’re too loud. Sighing gently as she flops onto her bed, Fran begins to daydream about what it would be like to live the life she truly dreams of, the one prophesied in Mr. Bednar’s exercise. Apparently she spends longer than anticipated in the fantasy because Charlotte is trying desperately to get her attention.

“It’s been hours, everyone has to be asleep,” she whispers. “The boys are probably waiting for us. Come on.”

A quick peek out the door confirms Charlotte’s suspicions – slumber has overtaken the residents of Welton Academy. The pair of them slip on school issued coats and boots, and do their best to silence the door’s creaking hinges. Luckily they were given a room at the end of the corridor and they leave with little issue. Cale and Tyson are waiting in the stairwell as planned, but Nate is nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Nate?” Charlotte asks, pecking Tyson on the cheek in greeting.

“He went ahead to do reconnaissance,” Cale explains.

That makes sense, especially for Nate, and without another moment’s hesitation the group departs. They grab Nate on the ground floor and scurry through the darkness. No one speaks until the school grounds are well behind them, too anxious the plan would fail if even a peep was uttered. The woods offer a sound barrier and the friends chat freely, fretting about upcoming midterm examinations and the looming Ivy League application deadline. Fran’s insides twist slightly when Cale brings it up, worried about how her father will respond to her lack of applications, but the thought is thrown to the back of her mind when everyone screeches to a halt outside the final destination.

The cave they decided to sneak to is more of a large rock pile, but it will do the trick. It’s quite spacious – the five of them will fit without any issue. Nate’s the first one in, followed by Tyson. Charlotte and Fran scuttle in soon after, and Cale brings up the rear, rolling a small boulder over the ‘door’ to hopefully keep out animals interested in intruding. Once the dust settles and the group is comfortable to the best of their abilities, Tyson pulls the package left for him from his jacket and clears his throat.

“Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the reinvisioned Society for Banned and Burned Books.”

The words send shivers down Fran’s spine. It’s thrilling to be here with her friends, doing something frowned upon by mainstream society. They’ll all be dead if anyone at Welton ever figures out what is going on, but she’d gladly sink all of her life prospects if it meant spending time with her friends. She can’t wait to see what the adventure brings.

Nate snickers from beside Fran. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it, Tys, just get on with it. We don’t have all night.”

The comment earns him a death glare, but Tyson continues with less performative lustre. “We were given this package, presumably by Mr. Bednar, to expand our minds and create memories that will last long after we leave Welton.” Sad smiles are shared, none of them wanting to think about the end of an era that’s drawing closer. There’s a slight voice crack as he speaks again, and it echoes off the stone walls. “Is everyone willing to take the oath so we can begin?”

“Jesus Christ, are we joining a cult?” Charlotte quips, but the smile on her face gives away the giddiness she’s feeling. Head nods come from the rest of the group, and the unofficial officiant gets started.

“It says to put up your right hand,” Tyson says, “And repeat after me. I solemnly swear to protect the secrecy of the Society. I swear to come in with an open mind, and let my potential flourish. I will use the Society to make lasting memories and to become a multi-dimensional person who thinks for themselves. The world is mine.”

Everyone repeats the words, voices mixing together until they’re indistinguishable from one another. With the first order of business out of the way, Tyson sits down and takes a deeper look at what was dropped on his desk – a worn paper explaining how the club works, a reading list, and a few books to get them started. Titles include The Grapes of Wrath, The Catcher in the Rye, Ulysses, and Animal Farm. Fran notices that all the books have been banned or burned in at least two countries: it seems the name of The Society is very literal. It also seems that Mr. Bednar hoped they would stay true to form as the club moulds to fit their needs and desires.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Cale insists. “We have to be back before everyone starts waking up. Sakic is an early riser.”

They spend the next couple of hours reading aloud and laughing together. After a quick vote it is decided the inaugural book will be The Catcher in the Rye since it seemed interesting, and then they will work their way through the others. Whenever it’s Nate’s turn to read he speaks in different voices and overextends his hand motions; it keeps everyone in stitches.

Before Fran can register how long it’s truly been, Cale checks his watch and alerts the group that it’s nearing three. If they want to get at least a few hours of sleep they need to return to Welton now. Reluctantly, everyone packs up. The trip back to school is silent, exhaustion seeping into their bones and making it hard to think about anything else besides sleep. By the time Fran climbs the stairs to her dormitory floor she can barely keep her eyes open. Charlotte says goodbye to the boys on her behalf, and Fran’s asleep before the other girl slips into their shared room.

A sluggishness encapsulates the group for the entirety of the next day. It seems that no one slept well, all tired eyes and slow movements. Strange looks are given by other students but they’re fairly easy to ignore – Fran is just desperately trying to get through the day so she can crash again. The years of strict, regimented routine at Welton have her circadian rhythm working in a particular way, and staying up late certainly did a number on her. Charlotte is faring better than everyone else– her body used to sleep deprivation on account of time change. It’s all Fran can do to stay awake during English, her final class of the day. If Mr. Bednar notices her wavering consciousness, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, Fran thinks she catches him winking at Tyson, as though he knows just what they were up to last night. Today’s lesson flies right over her head, and as soon as the bell rings she’s scrambling to pick up her books.

“Feeling a little bit under the weather today, Miss Winters?” he asks, closing his lesson plan.

Fran searches his face for any sign that he might snitch on her for being unresponsive in class but finds nothing. “Just a bit tired, Captain,” she quips. “Was up terribly late trying to get comfortable. My mattress has been giving me issues.”

“I’ll be sure to alert Nancy of your troubles. She’ll hate to know you’ve been uncomfortable.”

She knows damn well he won’t say anything, and that he truly knows the reason for her fatigue. However, she appreciates the game he’s playing. That way, if things don’t go to plan and the group gets busted by the administration, his hands will be clean. Fran would hate to see his teaching career blown apart by a group of raucous teens like her own dear friends.

As soon as she’s back in her room Fran crashes onto the bed with a thud. Muttering a jumbled package of words to Charlotte that resemble a request to wake her up for dinner, she climbs under the covers and falls asleep for the second time of the day.

☼☼☼☼

Fran’s body adjusts to the deficit in rest after the second meeting. It’s shorter, with Cale keeping a much closer eye on the time, but still fun. They’re nearly halfway through the novel, and votes are already being cast for what to read next. It’s getting easier for Fran to balance school and the club. The term has picked up, but despite the homework mounting on her desk she’s happy. Her grades are flawless, more than adequate for admission to an Ivy League, but she could care less. No one besides her friends know of her decision to only apply to other institutions, so Fran’s academic success gives her father enough false hope to let her live a mostly uninterrupted life at Welton. Things are good, and she often forgets that in a matter of months everything she knows will be completely turned on its head.

When Fran gets to Mr. Bednar’s classroom one afternoon, she’s surprised to find it empty. There’s no sign he’s been there for hours and worry fills her brain. What if someone saw the group sneaking out last night and is planting the blame on Mr. Bednar because he’s unconventional? Fran isn’t sure what she’d do if that happens, as he’s one of the only reasons she still shows an interest in school.

“Where’s Captain?” Charlotte asks the group, but no one has an answer for him. Tyson and Cale shrug indifferently, and Nate is too busy trying to catch the attention of a girl he’s been crushing on to pay any attention to the blonde. Fran rolls her eyes in disgust, upset Nate doesn’t seem to care about their missing teaching, and tries not to focus on the sting of him paying attention to someone that isn’t her

“I hope he’s alright,” she frets quietly.

As if Cale can sense how much worry is in her words, he places a hand on Fran’s shoulder in a comforting manner. “He’s fine, Fran. Probably just late returning from the bathroom.”

On cue, the eccentric English teacher peeks his head through the open door. “Well, come on! It’s one of the last nice days out,” Mr. Bednar chirps happily. “We’re outside today. No need to bring your books.”

No one even bats an eye at the instruction. Lessons like this occur at least twice a week, and Fran and all the other students look forward to them. It’s an invigorating and refreshing way to use their brains. The teacher leads everyone to the small courtyard that’s adjacent to the humanities wing, and stops in the middle. On instinct, the class huddles around him.

“I need three students to help demonstrate,” Mr. Bednar begins. “Mr. Makar, Mr. Jost, and Miss Tennant, care to do the honours?”

The three of them erupt into a chorus of yeses, eager to please their favourite instructor, though Charlotte shies away at the use of her last name.

“Well then, that settles it. Everyone else, please move to the sides,” he says, waiting patiently for any stragglers to follow instruction. “Now, you three, I want you to walk around the courtyard until I tell you to stop.”

On his signal, Fran’s friends set off, and she watches in confusion. At first, all three are walking in sync: turning corners at the same time and taking equal paces. Tyson is the first to break the pattern, widening his gait and letting his arms swing. Charlotte takes note of his divergence and begins to do her own thing. She twirls and skips about, giggling the entire time. Only Cale stays on the original route, looking every so often towards Mr. Bednar in hopes of positive feedback.

“That’s quite enough,” the older man says. “Thank you. Now can anyone tell me what happened?” It’s silent, his voice echoing off the stone walls and arches. “No one? Alright. What happened was an experiment on conformity. Our subjects started off the same, but soon after Mr. Jost got a little bored and became more relaxed. He walked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Ms. Tennant threw caution to the wind completely, dancing around. One could hardly call it walking. Only Mr. Makar stayed within what he thought were the parameters of the assignment. He was timid, searching for approval.”

The lesson continues, and Mr. Bednar makes a point of explaining that conformity makes things extremely boring, both in literature and life. Fran understands immediately and takes the message to heart. It would be so much better to live life on her terms, and from this moment forward she’s determined to put her happiness first. Near the end of class, everyone is unleashed to do their own walking. The class walks at varying paces, and Fran joins her roommate in skipping around in a circle. Only Nate refuses to walk, and when asked about it he shrugs.

“Exercising my right not to walk, Captain,” he says, which earns an eye roll and a smirk from the teacher.

“You’re certainly illustrating the point, Mr. MacKinnon.”

Later that night at the meeting, over pages of The Grapes of Wrath, Fran gushes about how Mr. Bednar’s lessons make her truly feel alive. Her friends agree, all particularly inspired by the passionate teacher. However, they share looks amongst themselves – proud Fran finally feels secure enough in what she wants to think about sticking up to her father. Although almost double in length than the previous novel, the group is making solid progress and is on track to finish the book before the holiday break.

Tonight Nate brought a saxophone, and after reading some of his own prose he breaks into song. The tune isn’t distinguishable because he isn’t much of a musician, but it still makes Fran laugh hysterically. Tyson joins in, crooning some words over the melody. Soon an impromptu jam session is in full effect: Cale works out a beat on a steel drum found just outside of their secret hideaway, and Charlotte and Fran provide handclaps and harmonies. The number ends in a fit of giggles tumbling from everyone’s lips, and Fran has trouble stifling them once she reaches Welton's property again. Sleep comes easy once back in her room, and Fran dreams of creating a lifetime of adventures with her friends.

☼☼☼☼

It’s a bright Tuesday when Fran spots the flyer on the bulletin board in the lobby. There, handwritten in large scrawling script, are the words Writing Seminar for Young Authors. She’s intrigued and reads all the information available on the sheet of paper. It seems to be taking place at Henley Hall, Welton’s sister school, and will run for nearly the rest of the year. Fran copies the contact information into her pocketbook and heads upstairs to compose a piece of literature worthy of admission.

Charlotte finds her there, several hours later, surrounded in a large pile of crumpled paper.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Fran slams her pen down on her notebook a smidge too aggressively, causing the other girl to flinch slightly. “Sorry,” she apologizes. “I’m just trying to get this submission perfect before I drop it off in the morning.”

“Oh!” Charlotte chirps excitedly. “Your dad is letting you write articles in the school paper again?”

A silence covers the room like a thick blanket. “Uh, not exactly,” Fran murmurs. “Henley is doing a writing seminar and I’m going to apply. My father doesn’t know.”

Her roommate and closest friend of nearly ten years shoots Fran a nervous glance. “What are you going to do when he finds out?”

Frustrated, Fan pushes the desk chair out and tug at the roots of her hair. “Goddamnit, Lottie, can’t you just be excited for me? I’m finally doing something I want to do and not caring about what anyone else thinks. Who’s side are you even on? You gonna call up my folks, let them know my plans, and have me shipped off to a refining school? Huh?”

“Calm down, Fran. It was just a question,” she sighs. “I’d never fink. Just thought you should consider what would happen. What are you writing?”

She gestures to the scraps littering the ground, and allows Charlotte to read one of her many drafts. She studies the words intently before darting out of the room, most likely to read it to a crowd of students and embarrass Fran. She likes to keep her writing a secret.

“Charlotte Tennant! Get back here!” Fran screeches, tearing after her.

The blonde’s giggles echo off the walls. “Help! I’m being chased by Agatha Christie!”

Cale narrowly avoids a collision with Charlotte as he rounds the corner, and Tyson can’t get out of the way fast enough. She runs right into her boyfriend’s chest, knocking them both over. After explaining why she was running and urging the rest of her friends to read the piece, everyone returns to Fran and Charlotte’s room for a study group. They insist Fran has to submit the very version Charlotte read, saying it was the best one. Fran lets them flatter her, and decides to drop it off in the morning. After all, Henley Hall is just down the road. The rest of the night is spent collaborating on Latin and laughing at Nate’s antics. When Nancy comes in to remind them of lights out, she finds all five teenagers huddled at the small window, looking out at the small flakes of snow that are falling.

“Look Nancy, it’s the first snowfall,” Charlotte says as she beckons her over.

The older woman smiles fondly at the group before nodding her head. “Beautiful isn’t it?” she muses. “Now, the boys better scurry out of here before they get caught.”

With a chorus of jovial goodbyes and plans to make a snowman tomorrow at break, they leave to avoid getting in trouble from their floor monitor. Fran and Charlotte tidy up before turning the light out, and both fall asleep feeling hopeful for what’s to come.

The next morning before classes start, Fran runs to Mr. Bednar’s office to get permission to visit Henley Hall at lunch. Welton requires staff permission for students to leave campus, but it doesn’t have to be from the headmaster. There’s no doubt in her mind that if she goes to Dr. Sakic he’ll alert her parents of Fran’s newfound extracurricular activity and it will be kiboshed before she can even begin. The beloved English teacher is enthusiastic in his approval, and kindly demands that Fran keeps him updated. She sits the rest of the morning with a mixture of anxiety and excitement bubbling in her stomach.

As soon as the bell signifying lunch rings, Fran’s throat goes dry. What if her writing is terrible and the coordinator laughs in her face? She’s not sure she could handle the rejection.

“Don’t worry about it, Franny,” Tyson comforts. “They’d be stupid not to accept you.”

“You’re the best writer I’ve ever seen,” Cale chimes in.

Nate turns around and ruffles her hair. “Who’s F. Scott Fitzgerald? I only know Francesca Winters.”

The praise boosts her confidence, and by the time Fran waves them farewell at the gates she’s walking with her head up. As long as she gives it her best shot, Fran decides she’ll be happy with the results. The short walk is idyllic – freshly fallen snow coats the trees, and it doesn’t look as though anyone has driven down the road. Even Henley Hall looks nice. It’s smaller than Welton, and in Fran’s opinion uglier, but also has high academic standards for its students. From what she’s heard though, the staff members are kinder. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible place to receive an education.

Once inside, Fran looks around aimlessly, trying to find a clue that would lead her in the direction of where she needs to go. A middle-aged woman, far younger than most of her teachers, approaches Fran with a kind smile. “Are you lost dear?” she asks, waiting patiently for a response.

“I’m afraid so,” Fran says, “Could you point me in the direction of Ms. Robertson’s office? I have a submission for her seminar to drop off.”

The woman laughs heartily, and it echoes slightly in the emptiness of the entryway. “You must be from Welton.” When Fran nods your head, she wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulder and begins walking. “I’m Ms. Robertson, and I’m pleased to say you’re the first from Welton to show any interest.”

Fran isn’t surprised by this. Headmaster Sakic assigns all extracurriculars, and she lets the teacher know this as she follows her. Ms. Robertson nods in understanding, but her lips are pursed in disapproval. It’s only then that Fran realizes Welton’s practices might not be as common as she once assumed.

The teacher’s office is tucked in behind her empty classroom, and Fran pauses to examine how she chose to decorate the space. Pictures of Walt Whitman line the walls, along with other notable poets. “I primarily teach poetry,” Ms. Robertson explains. Fran can’t help but think that she’s the Mr. Bednar of Henley, even though she hardly knows her. The teacher just exudes the same kind of energy.

Once inside, Fran tentatively hands her the paper – even though she seems friendly Fran is still nervous. She’s the first adult to read any of her creative writing.

“This is good. Really good,” Ms. Robertson praises. “You’re in.”

Fran is dumbfounded. Sure, there was a good chance she would have gotten in anyways because she isn't the world’s worst author, but to have someone other than her friends say she’s good at writing is affirming. “Th-thank you,” she stutters.

“No, thank you for bringing this to me. I can’t wait to see what else you’re capable of. The first meeting is on Monday, and when you come I need to see letters from your parents and Dr. Sakic saying you’re allowed to participate.”

Fuck. It slipped her mind that they might need permission from guardians. Fran will just have to figure something out, some way of getting around it. If her father ever found out she is doing something expressly against his orders he’d disown her. Oh well – now that she’s had a taste of success Fran is determined to see this through.

She explains that it won’t be a problem, and that she’s excited to be a part of this. After getting instructions on how to find the exit Fran leaves with a pep in her step. Once outside, she skips the entire way back to Welton.

☼☼☼☼

Somehow Fran manages to make it through nearly the entire weekend without someone bursting her bubble. It’s Sunday afternoon, and she’s planning how to forge the letter of permission from her father. She can’t risk sounding too youthful, but also doesn't want to appear too formal. Getting to work, Fran loads the typewriter and begins writing. Imitating her father is easier than she thought, and when Cale pokes his head through the open door she’s almost done.

“You coming to today’s meeting?” he asks, entering the room to sit at the foot of Fran’s bed.

She continues to clack at the keys of the machine. “Of course,” Fran replies. “Just need to finish this up.”

The pair of them sit in silence as she works, and a few minutes later Fran is placing the letter in an envelope. “Do you mind if we stop at Dr. Sakic’s office? I have to get a letter of permission from him.”

“Sure. How’d you get your father to say yes? He practically kicked you off the paper.” Cale’s question is legitimate, but surely he had to know Fran didn’t ask her father. That would have been an automatic rejection.

“I didn’t,” she sighs. “I wrote the letter myself. Sakic won’t call to double check with him. Besides, my parents live just too far away to want to make the trip here unless they have to.

Fran doesn’t miss the pointed look her friend gives. Cale’s a stickler for the rules, sure, but Fran knows he’s worried for her. If her father finds out she disrespected him like this, on top of not applying to any Ivy Leagues, she’ll be in a lot of trouble. Cale stays quiet while Fran chats with the headmaster, only offering a polite farewell. As the two of them walk to the cave to meet the others, he speaks.

“You better not get caught.”

The five words send chills down her spine. He’s right and Fran knows it. If she doesn't play her cards right it could end badly. Fran begins to regret her decision, but then she remembers how Mr. Bednar constantly encourages her classmates to be their people and do what they want. Whatever happens, she’ll never go back to living anything other than the life she wants to lead.

Conversation pivots when Fran doesn't respond, and the pair discuss what Tyson will bring to this week’s meeting. He’s tonight’s moderator and is known for picking obscure short stories to read after everyone has gotten through the assigned chapters. Cale bets nothing will be in English, and Fran can’t help but agree, because Tyson likes to expand everyone’s perceptions while being a little ridiculous. It’s good though – without him Fran would have a much harder time being exposed to new things. Between him and Mr. Bednar she’s doing a pretty good job learning about the world outside the traditional American viewpoint.

The meeting lasts a few hours, long enough for the sun to have disappeared and the moon to peak up from the shadows. The five of them have a grand time laughing and reading. Welton has a relatively relaxed weekend schedule, so Fran isn’t worried about being caught off school grounds. In fact, most of the staff members travel home if they can, leaving only essential personnel. Society meetings never fail to put Fran in a better mood, and she leaves feeling hopeful about the week to come. Besides, tomorrow she starts learning how to make her dreams a reality with the start of the writing seminar. When she bids everyone but Charlotte goodnight, pep returns to her step. The Brit sees it but chooses not to comment, secretly excited to see Fran unlock her potential.

☼☼☼☼

With the addition of Henley Hall’s writing seminar into Fran’s schedule, things change slightly. She manages to stay up-to-date on coursework, still excelling in all of her classes. What free time she has is now split between working on the rough draft of her novel and attending Society meetings with friends. It’s challenging at times, but there’s no other way she’d rather spend her last year of secondary school.

Mr. Bednar continues to provide thoughtful lessons that inspire. He is, by far, Fran’s favourite teacher at Welton, and she’s a tad upset she won’t get another year with him. It doesn’t matter much though, because Fran is positive he’ll stick with her for the rest of her life.

☼☼☼☼

December is approaching fast, and it’s now pitch black when Fran returns from Henley Hall. Other students are returning from their extracurricular endeavors or using the evening free time to play in the snow so at least she isn’t alone in the dark. As she approaches Welton’s dormitory wing Fran pushes her hands deeper into her pockets. It’s chilly – much colder than any other night this year. Just as she reaches to open the door, Fran hears sniffles from just around the corner. The culprit is a curly-haired brunette she could recognize from a mile away.

“Tys?”

He looks up, eyes brimmed with tears. Fran racks her mind to remember why he would be out so late, and she recalls Tyson saying there was an extra practice tonight before the tournament on the weekend. Despite how her joints seize from the cold, Fran drops to sit beside her friend. Tyson leans closer, resting his head on her shoulder. “What’s the matter?” she asks, pulling his much larger body closer to wrap in a tight hug.

“My parents don’t even care about me enough to send me an original birthday gift,” he chokes out. “The got me the same fucking desk set as last year.”

Her heart breaks for her friend. The Jost’s have always been detached, but this is an entirely new phenomenon for them. How could they not remember what they got their only son for his birthday last year? This is a whole new level of not caring. Fran had celebrated his special day at lunch with the rest of the group, and had plans to give Gwilym his gift after she got back from the seminar.

Hoping to find something to improve her friend’s mood, Fran stands and pulls him to his feet. “Well you know,” she says, tapping her fingers on her chin in faux thought. “This deskset looks extremely aerodynamic.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In fact, it looks like it was destined to fly.”

Tyson looks at her like she has three heads. “Go on,” Fran urges, “I present to you, Tyson Jost, the world’s first unmanned flying desk set.”

With a scream that verges on primal, Tyson throws the package over the edge of the walkway with fervor. The two of them watch as its contents spill onto the ground, both shocked he actually completed the task. A sideways glance at the boy standing beside her lets Fran know he feels better. They both head inside then, laughing once she remembers how Nate nearly singed his eyebrows off in chemistry earlier in the day. The rest of the night is surprisingly relaxed, with Fran making sure to properly celebrate her friend and catching up on the study hall she missed while at Henley. Nate is still working on that godforsaken radio, and his obsession with it is becoming concerning. He chimes in when something gets particularly interesting, but otherwise doesn’t say much, too concerned with rerouting the contraption’s cabinet wires.

The next morning, at the daily assembly, Dr. Sakic lets it be known that the first round of Ivy League acceptances have been released. A majority of Fran’s classmates have their names called, some of them multiple times, and her stomach sinks slightly. She isn’t upset that she didn’t apply. No, she’s upset because it means she’s going to have to start dodging the topic around her parents. None of Fran’s friends are mentioned, but that’s because they all have jobs lined up for after graduation.

As she shuffles out of the chapel, Mr. Pratt, the spry music teacher, pulls Fran aside. “There’s a call for you,” he explains. “It’s your parents. They’re on line three, so you can tell that to Sylvia.”

Fran’s hands shake and she climbs the stairs to the main office as slowly as possible. What could they possibly want? After repeating the information Mr. MacInnis told her, Fran is given a phone receiver with instructions to keep it under ten minutes.

“Hello?”

The deep boom of her father greets Fran’s ears. “Francesca,” he says, not nearly as cheery as she hoped he would sound. “I was speaking to some friends of mine and they informed me the first round of Ivy acceptance notices were released. Did you hear anything?”

She sucks in a breath, letting it burn her lungs. “I didn’t,” Fran admits. It isn’t technically a lie, but it also isn’t the whole truth. “Not many people did though. I’m sure they just haven’t gotten to my application yet.”

Her father lets out a noise that’s a mixture between a hum and a rumble. “With your grades I’m sure you’ll hear soon. Which did you apply to again? I’m not sure you ever told your mother and I.”

All the moisture leaves Fran’s throat. “All of them sir,” she croaks, praying he doesn’t catch her in the lie.

“That’s my girl. Bet you’ve got your eyes set on Harvard.”

“Of course sir.”

The phone call ends a few moments later when Fran hears the bell signalling the start of class. She’ll get a slip from the secretary to excuse her tardiness, but Fran doesn't want to listen to her father gloat about how she’ll be the first child in the family to attend a prestigious university for another second. After saying goodbye Fran is left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Eventually he’s going to find out, and she isn't sure what will happen then.

By the time the weekend rolls around Fran is exhausted. Though she’s handling everything well, sleep is pretty far down the list of priorities and she definitely isn't getting enough of it. She sleeps well into the morning, only being woken up when Charlotte whacks her with a pillow.

“Get up you lame duck, we have to be at the cave in fifteen minutes.”

Fran groans, a strangled sound that bounces off the furniture. “Can I just skip this one meeting?” she asks. “I’ll attend the next six in a row.”

Charlotte sees right through the ruse. “Fran, we attend every meeting,” she sighs. “Besides, you’re the moderator today. What kind of meeting will it be if you don’t show up?”

Begrudgingly, Fran shuffles out of bed. With help from Charlotte, who tidies her space while she gets ready, the pair are only a few minutes late. Had she been by herself it would have been well over thirty minutes before Fran made an appearance.

Everyone else is already there, smoking the pipes Nate smuggled from his father’s collection the last time he visited home. “Look who finally decided to show up,” Tyson quips, coughing as he exhales.

“Shut the fuck up, Jost,” Fran huffs, stepping over the boy to sit in her regular seat, only to find it occupied.

A girl she’s never seen before is sitting beside Nate, gripping his arm excitedly and hanging on every word he says. The sight makes her stomach twist into an intricate knot, and looking at the two of them cuddled against one another makes Fran realize her feelings towards Nate might not be strictly platonic for the second time in their relationship. She shoots a questioning glance at Tyson, who just shrugs. On the other side of him, Cale’s got a girl with strawberry blonde hair perched on his lap. Neither of them look like they attend Welton or Henley, as they’re dressed very casually, in clothing that would never pass inspection at the boarding schools.

“Oh! Am I sitting in your seat?” Nate’s girl asks. “Nathan said it was alright.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fran grits, turning her attention to the tall boy who strives to make her life as difficult as possible. “Want to tell me what this is about MacKinnon? You’ve got a lot of gall co-opting my meeting.”

Nate stands dramatically, tossing his scarf over his shoulder and getting giggles from the newcomers. “This,” he begins, “is my attempt at breaking down the barriers between public and private schools. Marjorie and Annabelle are from Ridgeway High, and Cale and I thought they might like to see what life at Hell-ton was really like.”

“Plus,” the one Fran assumes is Annabelle says, “We might be joining The Society.”

The comment causes quite the upheaval among the group. Tyson stands up immediately, furious with both Nate and Cale. “You didn’t think to let us know?” He seethes, arms failing as he speaks, and Fran feels a little smug that he’s defending her meeting with such fervor.

Charlotte stands gingerly beside him, guiding him to sit back down. “Tys is right, boys,” she says gently, ever the peacekeeper. “You should have brought this up beforehand. We can’t have anyone really knowing of this little club we have going on.”

The other one, Cale’s current object of affection, goes to speak but Fran cuts her off. “Please don’t say you won’t tell,” she sighs, “Because there are a million other ways it could get out. And I for one don’t want my father to pull me out of Welton and ship me off to refinery school because he found out I was reading unauthorized books.”

Everyone agrees with her. It’s agreed upon that the girls will leave after the meeting and never return. They’re to pretend as though they have never met a single member of the Society, regardless of how friendly they’ve become with Cale and Nate. The boys look sad, but Fran can’t find it in her to be sorry for them. Adding members was never discussed, and the two boys most certainly shouldn’t have been so reckless. Word travels fast in the real world.

After the sudden housekeeping issue Fran leads one of the funnest society meetings yet. Ignoring the framework the group had originally set, no chapters of a published book are read. Instead, each member takes turns coming up with bits of prose on the fly. Eventually the girls get tired of the group’s antics and leave, once again swearing they won’t tell anyone. The five original members continue on for a while longer, making sure to head back to campus early. Tonight the kitchen staff are serving spaghetti and meatballs, and Fran will be damned if she misses out.

Fran awakes the next morning to find that all students are to report to the auditorium for an emergency meeting. A throng of tired teenagers follow the much more alert group of young kids. She shuffles into a row of seats with Charlotte and tries to search for the boys. Due to the suddenness of everything, the roommates couldn’t meet up with them, and find the spots they would usually sit quickly occupied. It doesn’t matter much though because if any of them were caught talking there would be serious repercussions.

“Good morning everyone,” Headmaster Sakic addresses the crowd. “It was brought to my attention yesterday evening that there is an unauthorized club of sorts here at Welton. Known as the Society for Banned and Burned Books, its sole purpose is to disobey the rules and curriculum. Anyone who knows about it or is associated with it is to report to my office immediately and turn themselves in. A thorough investigation will be conducted, so it is advised you heed this warning carefully.”

“Those fucking bitches,” Fran seethes. “I’m going to murder Nate.”

Though just as pissed off as her friend, Charlotte handles her emotions with much more grace. “Relax Fran, and don’t go doing anything stupid. We just have to think about what we’re going to do next.”

Fran knows exactly what she’s going to do. The next time she sees Nathan MacKinnon and Cale Makar she’s going to punch them in the teeth. Somehow Charlotte talks her down, but she’s still irate. How dare they be so careless? Fran spends the rest of the day ignoring them. No one goes to turn themselves in to Dr. Sakic, but she almost does it out of spite so she can implicate Cale and Nate. Fran decides against it of course, knowing it would only hurt her, but she’s definitely going to spend the next few days thinking of how to get them back.

It turns out she doesn’t have to find a way to make them feel bad about their actions. Mr. Bednar comes and finds them in the afternoon and expresses his disappointment in them. After a short lecture on how they put their friends, and themselves, at risk, the teacher leaves them to reflect on how to apologize. They show up on the girl’s dormitory floor later in the evening with a plate of cookies.

“The chef supervised us in the kitchen,” Cale explains. “We’re really sorry. It was dumb of us to invite those girls. Will you be able to forgive us?”

Nate nods, tacking his own statement on to the end of his friend’s. “We never wanted to put you guys in danger, especially you Fran. I don’t want anything to get in the way of those fancy author dreams of yours.”

Fran blushes at the comment, but lets them come inside. Their apology is sincere, and all is forgiven with laughs over milk and chocolate cookies. Nothing comes of Dr. Sakic’s threat in the coming days, so clearly the investigation was not thorough. Perhaps the girls were better at keeping their mouths shut than Fran previously thought. Wanting to still play it safe, the group decides to not host any more meetings until after the holiday break.

☼☼☼☼

It’s a lonely break for Fran, spent mostly alone in her bedroom. At every opportunity her father is boasting about her academic achievements to anyone who will listen through the various holiday parties he corrals the rest of the family to. The whole town seems quite impressed that Fran is poised to attend an Ivy League, though it’s a ruse. No one knows that of course, and they all except she’ll be making an announcement on which school she’ll attend shortly. The holidays pass slowly, and Fran eats more than her fair share of mashed potatoes and gravy. Since her father must still work throughout her time at home, Fran is left to her own devices throughout the day. Though her mother loves Fran she’s docile, and often doesn’t talk to Fran unless she has to.

Fran spends an enormous amount of time writing. When she returns to school there’s only three weeks before she has to turn in the first draft of her novel. Hours are spent crafting scenes in painstaking detail – writing and rewriting until she’s happy with the quality of her work. At night Fran plays board games with her family, and makes up lies for her father’s questions. He’s becoming more creative, asking ones that demand specific answers. However she’s able to manage, mostly thanks to Cale’s insane wealth of knowledge on countless educational institutions. Without him she’d be lost at sea.

She’s extremely happy to be back at Welton, so much so she rushes ahead of her parents, not heeding her father’s warnings. Once sequestered into the auditorium, Fran tries to get permission to sit with Charlotte, but is immediately rejected.

“Sir, why can’t I? Other students are sitting together,” she states, and the glare you receive from her father could pierce a soul.

“After the stunt you just pulled?” he grits. “You’re lucky I don’t wheel you out of here and take you home. You will sit beside us. That’s final.”

The call of his name has him put his focus elsewhere, and Fran’s mother gives her a sympathetic smile. “He means well, dear,” she says. “After all, your father is right. We have certain appearances we must keep up since we aren’t of such high status.”

Before Fran can try and make a rebuttal, the procession enters the auditorium. Headed by her three male best friends and Tyson’s roommate Ryan, who have been tasked with carrying the banners, the teaching and administrative staff shuffle into the room. It’s silent – everyone not-so-patiently waiting for this assembly to be over. Undoubtedly Fran’s least favourite part of attending Welton, the term's opening assemblies are extremely dull and have made her consider leaving on multiple occasions.

“Welcome back to another term at Welton,” Dr. Sakic preaches. “We’ll be sure to have an excellent time. Now students, I must ask you the most pertinent of questions, one that’s asked at the start of every academic season. What are the four pillars?”

The voices of hundreds of children mingle together. “Tradition, honour, discipline, excellence,” Fran mumbles, slouching slightly. A swift nudge to the ribs from her father has her standing straighter than a board. She cannot wait to be rid of him.

After what feels like two hours of listening to Dr. Sakic and other distinguished staff members speak, everyone is finally allowed to leave. Bidding her parents a quick farewell, Fran clambers up the stairs to reach her room before Charlotte. Though she loves her dearly and the blonde never fails to lift your spirits, Fran needs alone time to quickly cry. It seems no matter what she does she’ll always be a disappointment to her father. The only thing he attributes to her is receiving acceptance to a prestigious school, and she refuses to give him that.

The reunion between the group of friends is much more relaxed this time around. Everyone had only been separated for a few weeks, not months. There’s still a small level of dramatics of course. When Nate sees Fran in the hallway he tackles her to the ground in a hug.

“Nathan, get off of me!” she squeaks, words punctuated by giggles. No one seems to notice, too caught up in their own reunions and settling in for another term, but Fran catches the way his eyes soften when he looks at her and it causes heat to rise to the top of her skin. She thought the weeks spent apart would help her silly crush go away, but it’s reared its head in full force and Fran doesn’t know what to do about it.

“Never,” he shouts, dragging Fran to her feet and sequestering her up the stairs. When they arrive in his dorm room, the rest of the group is already there. Details of holidays are shared, as are hopes for the school semester. It’s their final one at Welton, and Fran wants to make it count.

In just over five months she’ll graduate, leaving behind every comfort she’s known for the past six years. “Hell-ton has been our home for so long,” Fran sighs as she rests her head on Tyson’s shoulder. “What are we going to do once we’re gone?”

“Do whatever the fuck we want without teachers breathing down our necks.”

He has a point. For so long they’ve all been forced to act in a certain way that it will be nice to do as one pleases.

Charlotte hums in agreement, standing to stretch her legs. “Come on Fran, we should get back to our room. You’ve got to finish writing that one scene.”

Begrudgingly she untangles herself from Nate’s covers. She’s right, but Fran would rather not think about it. “Char, it’s killing me,” she whines. “Can I just not think about it for a while?”

She carefully reminds her of your deadline, and it’s enough to have Fran bounding down the flight of stairs. She really does need to get to work. The rest of the night has her stooping over her typewriter, clicking at the keys incessantly. By the time she falls asleep Fran has finished the scene and written at least three more, pushing her even closer to the finish line.

She finishes her draft a few days early, and hands it to Ms. Robertson after the workshop one night. She’s thoroughly impressed and is sure to let Fran know. The girl preens under her compliments, sure to downplay how happy she truly is. When she lets Mr. Bednar read the corrected version, he too showers Fran in praise.

“This is phenomenal, Miss Winters.”

Once again Fran is blushing, cheeks feeling much too warm for the cold winter afternoon. “Thank you Captain. It isn’t much though,” she says softly.

“Nonsense. It’s a masterpiece. Do you think I could commission you to bind me my own copy once it’s finished? I’d love to have it on my shelves.”

Fran is dumbfounded. “You want a copy of my book? But you read the greats like Twain and Fitzgerald!”

“You’re destined to be one of them, and I want to commemorate it.”

It’s then that she invites him to the final workshop in a few months' time. All participants will have their finished published works, and will take turns reading excerpts and answering questions. It’s supposed to be a mock book signing, and Fran is beyond excited. There’s nothing she wants more than for him to be there.

☼☼☼☼

Life begins to pick up speed, and Fran feels as though she’s running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Between academics, licensed extracurriculars, and society meetings she barely has enough time to sleep. It’s exhausting, but Fran feels completely satisfied. Not everyone gets the same experiences she’s been afforded, and she’s determined to make the most of it.

Mr. Bednar’s classes are still her favourite. This term the class is focussing on poetry, since the prose units were completed before the break, and every day Fran craves more. She finally learns the origin of the nickname ‘Captain’ with the reading of a particular poem, and everyone in the class increases their use of the term exponentially. Classes are spent reciting giants like Whitman and Frost, but also so-called ‘beat poets’ like Ginsberg and Kerouac. It’s easy to lose the stresses of life in their fantasies, and Fran always feels lighter when she leaves the room.

Some of her favourite lessons of the year have happened recently – namely the one on perspective. Ever the revolutionary, Mr. Bednar had everyone take turns standing on his desk, surveying the room before jumping down. A handful of students didn’t understand, but Fran found it incredibly eye-opening. Suddenly she understands why writing is so powerful – it can mean a million different things to a thousand people.

The Society for Banned and Burned Books starts to become less structured, and truthfully Fran doesn't mind. Most of the time everyone sits in the cave and discusses the ideas Mr. Bednar plants in their heads. Not many books are being read, but she’s glad. They were beginning to become a bit dull and the group was running out of titles – authors are being much more careful these days so as not to offend governing bodies. No matter what lens the club has taken, Fran is glad it exists. She’s spent countless hours fooling around with her dearest friends while enriching their minds. What more could she ask for?

Her novel is coming along swell. It passed the first and second revisions with flying colours and is now off at the printers. When Fran asks if she can print two copies, and that she doesn't mind paying the extra, Ms. Robertson is shocked.

“There’s no way you’re footing that bill! Especially because you’re giving it to someone,” she says, putting a cork in the matter. “Mr. Bednar will be delighted.”

The young mentor knows of Fran’s beloved English teacher, and is touched that she wants to do something so special for him. No one else in the group is as excited as Fran. Most of them are involved simply to pass the time or stand out on college applications, but not her. Fran is in the seminar because her soul yearns to write and she’d be a fool to deny its wishes. Writing is what she wants to do for the rest of her life, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t seriously pursue it.

☼☼☼☼

The day Fran gets her book back from the publishing house, the final round of Ivy League admissions is sent out. Her name is, of course, not on it. However, Ms. Robertson got in touch with a friend who teaches at Bryn Mawr college, and they’ve extended an offer into their creative writing program. Fran is delighted, and accepts almost immediately. The school is prestigious enough that hopefully her father can overlook the fact it’s not an Ivy.

Life goes as usual, with the day passing slowly. Tonight is the first time she’ll get to see her finished work, and will prepare for the showcase tomorrow night. She’s ecstatic, practically bouncing off the walls the entire day.

“Slow down,” Cale huffs, trying desperately to keep up with the jovial pace Fran has set.

She turns around to flash him the biggest smile she’s ever mustered. “I simply cannot, my dearest Cale, because I’m now a published author. My joy knows no limits.”

“You better not get a big head and a terrible ego,” Nate pipes in, joining the both of them in walking to the willow by the lake. He ruffles Fran’s hair and she swats his arm away.

“Shut up!”

The three of them join the other members of the group, who were able to weave through the crowds faster to claim the best spot on the grounds. Everyone spends the break joking around and chattering about tomorrow night. They’ll all be in attendance, along with Mr. Bednar. Somehow Fran has managed to keep her admittance to the seminar a secret to anyone outside of Welton and she’s quite proud of herself.

At Henley Hall, she feels electric. Seeing words that she wrote on a page, bound in leather, puts butterflies in her stomach. For possibly the first time in her life Fran feels like she’s on the right path. Reading a piece of the story out loud is exhilarating, and she can’t wait to see how the crowd responds. The question and answer section allows her to really delve into the creative process, immersing audience members in the story even more. It’s an evening spent having the time of her life, but something feels the tiniest bit off. Fran’s brain tells her something is going to go wrong when she returns to Welton.

How right she was. When she finally reaches her dormitory floor after swimming against the current of hungry teenagers, Charlotte is standing anxiously at the end of the hall.

“Your father is inside our room, and he looks absolutely peeved,” she whispers, hugging Fran tightly before running to join the others downstairs. If she’s caught loitering, detention will be her home for the next few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, Fran does her best to mask her anxiety before stepping into the room. He’s sitting at her desk, tapping his foot impatiently, and sporting a grimace that makes Fran’s stomach contract.

“Father, what are you doing here?”

It’s a dumb question – she knows exactly why he’s here. Her father doesn’t buy the weak question and chooses to ignore it completely.

“How dare you,” he broods, “Defy me and then lie about it?”

There’s no beating around the bush tonight, and Fran wishes she could be anywhere but here. “Sir, I can explain –”

“There’s nothing to explain! You made me look like a fool, telling everyone in town that my daughter, my Francesca, was going to attend an Ivy and study to become the best legal secretary in the goddamn county. That she had the pick of litter and would choose whichever offered her the biggest scholarship. Do you know how I stupid I look?”

Tears prick at the corner of Fran’s eyes, but she will them away. “Father, please,” she whispers, trying to stay strong but her voice betrays how she truly feels.

He doesn’t let up, continuing the rather one-sided argument. “And then I hear from old Mrs. Perkins that her granddaughter is coaching you in a writing seminar at Henley Hall? I told her she must have confused you with someone else because writing is a waste of time. She was incessant, and showed me the letter her granddaughter had mailed her, detailing how wonderful your novel was and she was so excited to get you a spot in a creative program at a women’s college. I was appalled.”

Now is the one chance Fran has to defend herself. “I never wanted to attend an Ivy, Sir,” she tries to explain as calmly as possible. “That’s what you wanted for me. Bryn Mawr is just as prestigious, one of the Seven Sisters. I’ll be happier there, doing what I love. I want to be a writer, Father.”

“Nonsense, Francesca. You’re seventeen, you don’t know what the hell you want.”

It goes like that, back and forth, for a while as she tries to make her father see reason. He isn’t having any of it.

“Did that new teacher, Mr. Bednar, put you up to this?”

Where her father got that notion Fran isn’t sure. “Of course not, Sir,” she exclaims, “I’m simply doing what’s best for myself.”

“What is best for yourself, huh?” he seethes. “You don’t know what’s best for you, but I’ll tell you. You’re going to drop out of the little writing program and tell Bryn Mawr you’re reneging your acceptance. Next fall you can apply for Harvard.”

Fran tries to explain to him that she can’t do what he’s ordering, that the signing is tomorrow night and they’re counting on her to be there. Her father simply does not care and after screaming at Fran some more leaves her dorm room in a flurry of anger, slamming the door behind him.

As if she is Atlas and the weight of the world has crushed Fran, she curls into a ball on her bed and sobs in pain. She’s absolutely heartbroken. Why can’t he just let her do what she wants? Too tired to eat, Fran stays in her room and eventually cries herself into a fitful sleep.

Fran is in the same position hours later when her friends peek through the door to check in. Without a word, the four of them surround her in a group hug. Nate’s hands find a way to her back and rub soothing circles in an attempt to calm Fran down. It helps slightly, and she eventually gets the sniffles to stop. No one speaks, but it’s comforting for Fran to not be alone. She knows that when she does want to talk about what happened they’ll be there with open ears.

At the urging of Tyson and Charlotte, Fran travels to the teachers’ quarters and knocks timidly at Mr. Bednar’s door. “Come in,” he says breezily, and she carefully steps around the pile of worn novels on the floor.

“Captain, I’m really sorry to bother you,” she says earnestly, “But I really could use some advice.”

He ushers her to sit down, and pours a cup of tea that he sets gently in Fran’s hands. She explains the entire situation, sparing no detail. Any memory that vaguely relates to her terse parental relations is also brought into the mix – if this man is going to know anything, he’s going to know everything. The conversation then moves into how much Fran loves writing, and how she feels as though she’s nothing without it. Mr. Bednar sits quietly and nods as she talks, not speaking until Fran winds herself.

“Can you tell him what you just told me?” he asks, leaning over to refill her cup and pass the sugar.

Fran scoffs, though the tears threatening to spill after sharing her heart show that she isn’t as aloof as she hopes to be. “Absolutely not. I can’t talk to him like this.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t see me as a person! To him I’m just a canvas he can project his dreams onto. There’s nothing I could say to make him see that he doesn’t always know what’s best for me.”

The room goes quiet. It isn’t uncomfortable, but Fran is waiting for the older man to speak again. Mr. Bednar stands and walks to the small window beside his desk. “I think you should try,” he theorizes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says confidently. “If you tell him everything you just told me, your father will see the passion you have for writing, and will let you stay enrolled in both the workshop and Bryn Mawr.”

She stays with the teacher a little while longer, discussing poetry and prose. It’s nice to talk to someone without them having preconceived notions of how she’s meant to behave and who she’s supposed to become. When Fran walks back to her dormitory she still doesn't feel as light as she hoped. There’s absolutely no way she can try and convince her father to let you stick with writing. Fran’s only hope is to disobey his direct orders. If memory serves her correctly, Fran’s father will be leaving for a three day business trip to Chicago in the morning. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.

The rest of the night is spent with her friends doing everything in their power to keep Fran’s mind off the situation. At the suggestion of Cale, everyone dresses in their robes and sneaks to the cave, having an impromptu Society meeting. It’s nothing serious or official, just the group telling ghost stories and poking fun at each other.

After an hour or so of enjoying each others’ company, Nate abruptly stands. “I think everyone knows what time it is,” he grins.

Everyone else looks at him as if he has three heads, but then Tyson suddenly remembers something and joins the taller boy in towering over the group. He then turns around to pick up a small bundle of mangled wires and boxes and passes it to Nate. “I present to you all our now fully functional backyard radio!”

“Holy shit, you fucking did it,” Cale exclaims, profusely shocked. Charlotte just lets her jaw drop open in astonishment. Fran is speechless too, unable to believe her friends were actually able to pull their crazy invention scheme off.

No one speaks for a few beats, astounded, but Charlotte breaks the silence. “Well, are you going to turn it on you tossers?”

After a speedy setup that doesn’t look particularly safe, Nate sticks the antenna out the hole in the cave’s roof while Tyson fiddles with the dials. It takes a second, but soon enough music flits through the speaker. The voice of Elvis Presley meets everyone’s ears and Fran’s foot involuntarily taps along to the beat. Laughter and shouts of encouragement echo off the stones until it’s so loud she can no longer hear the music. No one seems to care, and Cale doesn’t refuse when Fran grabs his hand and invites him to dance. At some point Nate sweeps her into his arms to do a ridiculous step pattern, and Fran giggles loudly at the gesture. Despite everything that happened earlier in the evening, she ends the night feeling genuinely happy.

☼☼☼☼

There’s about ten minutes until Fran has to leave for Henley Hall. Charlotte has her practically tied to the desk chair and is in the process of taking the rollers out of Fran’s hair. Honestly, Fran doesn't care too much about her appearance since the event is nothing official, but her best friend insists she look the part of a glamorous novelist.

“Stop moving your bloody head,” the blonde grumbles.

“Sorry Lottie,” she apologizes sincerely. “Just a little antsy.”

It isn’t a lie. Fran has been a jittery mess all day. Not one of the lessons given stuck in her brain, and her left knee has been constantly bouncing.

Charlotte places her hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “I know darling.”

She gets back to work setting the curls, and Fran takes a second to look at herself in her small desk mirror. Charlotte has completed the seemingly impossible task of making her look elegant – painting her lips a beautiful cherry red and ironing the prettiest dress in their combined closets so there wouldn’t be any misplaced creases. A few spritzes of hairspray and she’s done, letting Fran stand up to see the finished product for the first time.

She looks herself up and down, trying to recognize the person staring back at her. It isn’t that she looks like a completely different person. In fact, Fran looks like a more sophisticated, well travelled version of a seventeen year old. She can picture herself employing Charlotte to help her get ready before any other major event she might have in the future – perhaps she’d prefer styling to nursing.

Before Fran can say anything a low whistle comes from the doorway. “You sure clean up nice, Francesca,” Nate grins, using the girl’s full name in an attempt to make her squirm.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, MacKinnon,” she says, walking breezily over to him and straightening out his bowtie. Everyone in the group is travelling to Henley in Mr. Bednar’s car. The audience doesn’t need to be there for nearly forty-five minutes after the call time, but Fran’s entourage wants to get good seats.

The other boys round the corner then, and compliment her profusely. It makes Fran blush, if only because they’re being uncharacteristically sincere. No comedic jabs follow, and she feels incredibly loved. The four of them sit patiently while Charlotte finishes her makeup, chatting amongst themselves. As soon as she’s done the door is shut quietly and the group tomps down the stairs to meet their teacher in the lobby.

“Looking sharp, kids,” Mr. Bednar exclaims jovially. “Like proper literature enthusiasts. Shall we go?”

Henley Hall isn’t a far walk, perhaps ten minutes, but riding in the back of her teacher’s car makes Fran feel important. He makes pleasant small talk with Charlotte and shares crude jokes with the boys, but asks Fran an earnest question.

“Did you tell your father what you told me Fran?”

She gulps. Of course she hadn’t called her father, not wanting to make matters worse. “I did, this morning,” she stutters. “He won’t be able to attend though, left for Chicago as I called. I think he’s going to let me stick with it.”

In the rearview mirror Mr. Bednar smiles brightly. “Glad to hear it.”

After parking the car out front of the building, the group walks into the theatre together, and Fran leaves them to slip backstage. No one else is, unsurprisingly, in the audience, but they’re more than content talking amongst themselves.

Ms. Robertson quickly goes over the speaking order and answers everyone’s questions before allowing time to practice answering questions one last time. It’s fun for Fran to chat with her fellow writers, who over the past few months have become friends, and hang out with them one last time. No one else from Welton ever joined, making her the lone outsider, but they took her in with open arms. It will be sad to leave them, though once she leaves for Bryn Mawr – if her father allows her to stay enrolled – some of the girls will be joining you.

A quick glance at the clock lets Fran know it’s go time. At the cue of the stage manager, she and the other participants file onto the stage. The one nice thing is that she isn’t out there alone and can lean on the support of her fellow creatives if need be.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to our annual Writer’s Showcase,” Ms. Robertson announces. Applause and cheers erupt from the crowd, with Fran’s little group making the most noise. She waves shyly and sits down, awaiting the prompt to begin speaking. When it’s finally her turn it takes a second for Fran to gain her voice, so petrified that something will go wrong, she mumbles the first few words of her introduction. After a second she’s fine, and continues speaking with ease and zeal.

Presenting her work to everyone important to her is the best moment of Fran’s entire life. The entire audience is on the edge of their seat, hanging off her every word. It’s empowering – for the first time in her life Fran feels special. She reads a short passage to much acclaim, ending with a deafening roar of applause. A broad smile finds its way onto her features and it seems as though it will be permanent.

The rest of the students finish their readings and the group move on to the question and answer section. This exercise is open, but each participant gets the same number of questions so as not to upstage anyone. However, it’s clear that Fran is the one most people are interested in. She ponders the questions and gives thoughtful answers. After a particularly tricky one, she hears Cale shout encouragement in her direction.

“That’s it Fran!” he yells through cupped hands, adding a whistle for extra effect. Her other friends join in, and soon so has the entire auditorium. Fran stands up and awkwardly bows before allowing another person to answer a question.

Everything is going well until she watches her father slip through the doors. He’s wearing a wicked scowl and has his brows knitted together. Whatever is about to happen won’t be pretty. Instead of causing a scene, he perches against the back wall and folds his arms over his chest. Fran gulps. Jeremy, the last boy to answer a question, finishes up. Everyone stands and bows, but she’s in such a daze that she has to be pulled up by those on either side of her. The noise is overwhelming and Fran is beginning to find it hard to breathe. As soon as it’s possible, she darts off the stage and out of view.

“Fran? What’s wrong?” Ms. Robertson asks, concern lacing her voice.

“Nothing,” she lies through her teeth. “Just a little overwhelmed by it all.”

She smiles and wraps her arms around Fran’s shoulder in a hug. “I know. Come on, let’s go celebrate.” Much to her chagrin, Fran is pulled into the crowd of people waiting to see their loved ones in the lobby. Sifting through the mass, she tries her hardest to find her friends before her father finds where she is. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

“Francesca,” he shouts, reaching through the crowd to grab Fran by the wrist. “We’re going home right this minute.”

“But I have to return to Welton, Sir,” she protests.

Fran’s father sends her a look that could turn Medusa to stone. “Car. Now.”

It’s a hassle to keep up with his blistering pace, but Fran knows things will be worse if she keeps him waiting. The walls seem to cave in around her and tears flow without regard to who could see. Fran is legitimately terrified.

She hears her name being called as she reaches the door. Charlotte spots her and ducks under a man’s arm to catch up. Fran shoots her a warning look but she either doesn’t see it or pays it no mind. The rest of the group follows her. Too scared to look at them, Fran remains mute as they call out to her.

“That was simply wonderful, Miss Winters,” Mr. Bednar exclaims. “You’ve got a real talent for writing.” Fran blushes at his words, and hopes it conveys how much they mean to her.

Knowing this is probably going to be her only chance, Fran shoves the copy of her novel into the teacher’s chest. It’s got his initials embossed on the front cover and includes a handwritten dedication explaining how much his encouragement means to her. “Take this,” Fran mumbles, unable to look him or her friends in the eye.

Her father doesn’t miss the interaction. “Get in the car,” he orders. Fran follows the directions and presses your face against the glass, worried for her teacher. When he wants to, her father can unleash his wicked temper with unyielding cruelty.

“Stay away from my daughter, Bednar,” he seethes, grabbing the other man by the collar of his sweater. “You’re the one that put her up to all this nonsense.”

“He didn’t!” Nate protests, preparing to give Fran’s father a piece of his mind but Mr. Bednar stops him.

“That’s enough, Nathan, we don’t need to make it worse.”

With nothing else to say, Fran’s father storms to his side of the vehicle and slams the door. Turning the engine on rather aggressively he zips out the parking lot, leaving Fran to stare out the back window and watch her friends shrink and disappear. It’s so tense the air between the two of them could be cut with a dull kitchen knife. The silence is deafening and Fran wishes he’d just start screaming now to get it over with. Instead, he doesn’t speak or look at her, focussing on the road ahead of him. Though she doesn't live terribly far from Welton and Henley, the ride is long enough to spike Fran’s anxiety.

Fran’s mother is standing on the porch when the car pulls into the driveway. She pushes off the column to meet her family at the car, but stops in her tracks when her husband breezes past her. Fran hasn't even had time to open the passenger door.

“Conrad,” her mother sighs, following him into the house and trying to calm him down.

“No, Barbra, she’s gone too far this time.”

If driving away wouldn’t make it worse, Fran would be halfway to Welton by now. Her father had taught her to drive in the evenings during the summer, and it’s late enough that no police would be patrolling. Besides, if she told them the truth they might let her off the hook.

Instead, she rises out of the car with shaking knees. The front door is still open, so Fran slinks through and shuts it quietly. In the office beside the entryway her parents are arguing, though it’s mostly her father doing the talking. He often overpowers her mom and she’s too fragile to speak up for herself. That door is open too, which Fran finds strange. Normally their arguments happen in private.

“Come in,” her father says gruffly.

Fran enters cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Considering he almost assaulted her English teacher it probably won’t be very good. The chair directly across from her father is open, and she sinks into it, refusing to meet his gaze. Across the room her mother is perched delicately on the edge of the desk, chain smoking cigarettes and twirling the pearls of her necklace around her thumb.

“We’re trying very hard to understand why you insist on defying us, defying me.” His voice is eerily calm, and truthfully that upsets Fran more than if he were to scream at her. “And though I suspect that no good, idyllic teacher is behind it, we aren’t going to let you ruin your life. You’ll no longer be attending Welton. Starting first thing in the morning you’ll be enrolled at Balthasar’s Refining Academy, where you’ll finish the year and study to become a legal secretary.”

“But Father, that’s a lifetime of unhappiness,” Fran protests. “I don’t want to be a secretary.”

“Well that’s too fucking bad!” he screeches. “Because that’s what you’re going to be. It’s not a death sentence.”

Her mother says nothing, just sits and stares blankly. Fran can tell she’s afraid of him, her father, but won’t ever leave. That’s simply not the way things work.

“You don’t understand, Francesca” he continues, “You have opportunities your mother and I could never have even dreamt of. I can’t let you waste them.” With a sharp turn on his heel he faces the window, his back to Fran signaling the conversation is finished.

Adrenaline courses through her veins, and Fran seizes the only opportunity shemight ever get to tell her father how she truly feels. “I need you to know what I feel!”

Not appreciating the young girl’s challenge to his authority, Fran’s father turns on her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “What is it that you feel?” he snarls. “What is it!”

Facing him diminishes her newfound confidence. There’s no doubt he’ll pick the argument apart, berate her for having aspirations based on passion instead of security. It’s a fight Fran won’t win, so she backs down entirely.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s nothing,” she whispers.

A triumphant smirk appears on her father’s face. “That settles it then,” he exclaims, and promptly strides out of the room to get ready for bed.

Fran falls back in the armchair feeling incredibly defeated. Tears begin to fall, and soon sobs are wracking her body. In an effort to be of some comfort her mother places a hand on her shoulder, but it doesn’t help. She’s just as much to blame for Fran’s sorrow as he is.

“I was really good out there. I truly felt happy for the first time.” Fran’s voice breaks as she speaks, unable to continue for fear of breaking down completely.

Her mother stands and finishes the rest of her cigarette in a single drag. “It’s been a long night, let’s get some sleep.”

There’s no way Fran will be able to sleep. The events of the past few hours replay in her head on a loop, and she tries to find things she could have done that would have made the outcome different. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her friends or Mr. Bednar, and that’s what stings the most.

She stares at the ceiling for a few hours, and when that doesn’t settle anything Fran gets out of bed to stare out the window. The night looks peaceful and quiet, unlike the sea of sadness swimming in her soul. In an attempt to find a solution to the swirling of her mind, she opens the window and allows the air to flow in. It’s warm, a tad bit sticky for April, but it calms her down for a split second. There’s a moment when Fran feels free, when the moonlight hits her skin just right and she’s glistening like Selene herself, before the weight of everything settles on her shoulders again. Fran is unhappy, and she will be unhappy for the rest of her life.

There’s only one thing left for her to do.

She slips into actual clothes and grabs a jacket from the small wardrobe in the corner of her room. Propping open the window with a piece of wood she found on the floor – her parents are in the middle of remodelling the house – and slipping on shoes, Fran looks around the room for a final time. If she plays her cards right, this will be the last time she’s ever in the building.

Carefully, Fran slips out the window and perches on the large branch. It’s strong enough to hold her weight if she wanted to close the window, but she doesn’t bother to hide the escape from her parents. They’ll know as soon as they wake up anyways. She quickly scurries down to ground level and takes off without a look over her shoulder. Sprinting as fast as she can, Fran makes it down the road and into the nearby village rather fast. The darkness of the night covers her tracks, and besides, no one is out at this time anyways.

There’s a payphone on the corner across from the post office, and Fran steps into the booth as soon as she possibly can. Her hands shake as she picks up the receiver. Thankfully the telephone operators won’t be able to tell who she is and alert her parents, since Fran’s calling from a public line.

“Operator,” the woman says flatly.

“Hello,” Fran rushes the introduction, skipping over a few formalities. “I need to speak to Mr. Jared Bednar of Welton Academy.”

With an unamused grunt the operator switches the phone over to his line. The dial tone begins to ring, and Fran feels anxiety settle into her bones. What if he decides not to help?

“Who is calling at such an ungodly hour?” he yawns, and she feels bad for waking him.

“Mr. Bednar, I ran away from home,” Fran cries, finally allowing tears to escape and too upset to use the nickname she often calls him by. “Can you come pick me up?”

His response is immediate. “Of course, child. Where are you?”

She explains to him where she is and, after promising not to move, hangs up. There’s a bench beside the phone booth, so Fran sits patiently and waits for the teacher to arrive. The wind no longer feels warm, and she curls the light jacket she brought tighter around her shoulders. Thankfully, no one approaches her while she sits alone. Fran is in a very precarious situation, and doesn't know how she would survive a kidnapping attempt.

Mr. Bednar’s car pulls up alongside the curb and he jumps up before the gearshift settles into park. His arms are around Fran in a nanosecond, comforting her and leading her to the warmth of the vehicle. Once out of the elements Fran feels slightly better, but is still exhausted from the roller coaster that has been the past few hours.

“Let’s get you back home,” he says, and she begins to panic. “To Hell-ton.”

Her heart rate steadies, and Fran finds enough energy to half-heartedly laugh at the use of Welton’s absurd nickname. This drive is also silent, but extremely comfortable. Eventually Mr. Bednar reaches over and turns the radio on, and she falls asleep to the voice of Sam Cooke.

When Fran arrives at Welton, she doesn’t go back to her dorm. Instead, Mr. Bednar sequesters her into the teachers’ quarters. “Your father will be here in the morning to try and find you and it will be the first place they look,” he explains. “You’re safe up here.” At Fran’s request he grabs Charlotte, and she collapses into the blonde’s arms when she steps in the room.

“Shh Fran, it’s alright,” she soothes. “You’re okay. And you’re safe.”

The two girls sleep curled together on the small couch in Mr. Bednar’s living room while he paces back and forth trying to figure out what to do. He should report the incident to the administration, but he knows that Dr. Sakic will allow Fran to go back into a dangerous situation without care for her safety. There’s nothing he would want less in the world, he decides, and doesn’t care if his credibility is ruined while trying to protect her. He doesn’t sleep a wink, keeping an eye on the door in case someone saw him bring Fran in – Welton’s staff is full of greedy opportunists who will do anything to get ahead.

He was right. The next morning Fran’s father is at Welton, demanding she return home with him. She’s nowhere to be found of course, tucked safely away in Mr. Bednar’s room, but Fran watches him stomp around the grounds from the window. It’s terrifying, knowing he could find her at any second. Never has she been more scared in her life.

Fran’s friends come to see her whenever they can spare a moment, though never all together. Cale comes the most frequently, but that’s because he’s positioned to be a staff member in a few months and the old men don’t mind him being in their quarters. He brings with him sweets and stories of other students misbehaving in class – most of the time it’s Nate. Since she’s technically a fugitive and can’t attend lessons, her friends take turns breaking down the material so Fran doesn’t get too far behind. When the anxiety of getting found out gets to be too much, Charlotte comes to braid Fran’s hair and shares fantastical tales of her European adventures. Nate stops by as often as he can, letting Fran know he’s there for her in every sense of the word, and she feels herself yearning for him once again.

After three days her father stops coming to Welton. Fran assumes he’s moved on to looking in other places, and becomes a bit freer in her movements. Late at night she sneaks out to join her friends at the regularly scheduled Society meetings. Mr. Bednar doesn’t say anything, sometimes helping Fran escape by distracting those who might see her in the hallways. This works for a week, but eventually she’s found out.

Fellow student Nico Sturm finds Fran sneaking back into Mr. Bednar’s quarters one evening. Nico is in that section of the school for chemistry tutoring, and sees her pass by in a flash. Immediately after realizing it was the missing girl teachers have encouraged students to look for, he travels to Dr. Sakic’s office, where the old man works until well into the night. The young man takes the opportunity to also reveal the names of the other students involved in the Society for Banned and Burned Books. Apparently he’s been watching the group for quite some time, waiting until the time was right to present the information. He’ll make a great politician indeed.

Three raps at the door are followed by Sakic’s booming voice. “Jared, open this door or so help me god.”

Fran looks at her teacher with an absolutely petrified gaze. “What do we do?” she asks, voice small.

“Whatever we can to minimize the damage,” he replies grimly.

Dr. Sakic stands in the doorway, broad shoulders making it so much of the space isn’t empty. He invites himself in, peering around the room for Fran. When he spots her he speaks. “Christ Jared, you can’t kidnap children.”

The English teacher calmly explains that he had not kidnapped Fran, but that she had called him for help after running away from home. Apparently that wasn’t the answer Sakic was looking for. The older man explains that Fran’s parents are on their way to the school and that the three of them should make the journey to his office.

The entire time Fran waits for her parents to arrive she’s a nervous wreck. Her teacher does his best to comfort her from a distance – it was made very clear that the two of them were to be separated. Both men let Fran cry freely, which she appreciates, because once her father enters the room she’ll be forced to show no emotion.

He’s a force to be reckoned with when he arrives, arms flying and tongue lashing. It’s all Fran’s mother and Dr. Sakic can do to stop him from tearing Mr. Bednar’s throat out. “You no good son of a bitch,” he screams. “You kidnapped my daughter!”

“Lower your voice, Conrad,” Dr. Sakic advises. “It’s better if we solve this matter privately. We don’t want a scandal.”

Her father huffs gruffly before agreeing. Fran doesn't dare look him in the eye and he pays her no mind. Though her mother does come over to quietly ask if Fran was safe, she’s quickly called to her husband’s side.

The adults deliberate for hours, never once stopping to bring Fran into the conversation. Mr. Bednar gives her a look that says he would if possible, but she knows he can’t ask for her input on the matter at hand. His career is already on the brink. Fran’s father is adamant on having Mr. Bednar fired and pulling her out of Welton.

“It’s clearly not safe for her here,” he argues. “So it’s best we put her someplace else.”

Dr. Sakic disagrees completely. “You’ll never be able to find a school to take her for a month. Plus she’s graduating. Let her remain here, and then send her wherever you’d like.”

Fran’s parents deliberate for a short time. It’s mostly her father arguing that she must leave and your mother agreeing with the headmaster. “He’s right dear, it would be detrimental to her education if we send her someplace else,” she says quietly. He mulls it over for a minute before conceding.

“Fine. But Bednar is gone.”

Fran can’t help her face from falling into a frown. It isn’t fair he gets punished for trying to help her. “Father –” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“I advise you not to speak unless called upon, Francesca,” he says cooly. “When asked, you will verbally confirm that Mr. Bednar kidnapped you and held you hostage. You’ll also sign a paper saying that he encouraged you to enter into unauthorized extra curriculars.”

The tone of his voice tells Fran those orders are final and she’d be a fool to try and defy them. Left with no other option she agrees, though Fran hopes the fingers you have crossed behind her back will help to lessen the guilt. “I don’t see that I have any other choice,” she sighs. “So I have one request.”

“You’re not in a place to be asking for anything,” her father spits.

Dr. Sakic stops him from continuing. “Mr. Winters, we try to keep this school as democratic as possible. Let her speak.”

The floor is hers and Fran’s throat goes drier than a desert. “I don’t want Mr. Bednar in the room when I say these things,” she stammers, heart pounding in her ears. She’d rather not say them at all, but her hand is being forced.

The request is granted, and Fran’s beloved English teacher nods his head once before slipping out of the room. Tears stain her cheeks and blouse as she repeats the words she’s prompted to. Her voice is barely above a whisper and riddled with hiccups, but they don��t let Fran stop. Eventually the excruciating process is done, and it feels like her soul has been crushed. In a way it has – Mr. Bednar gave Fran the tools to feel like her life had purpose and now he’s gone.

Without acknowledging her parents, Fran turns on her heel to return to the dormitory wing. They’ll stay for a while longer, discussing with the headmaster on how they want to proceed legally. At the last second she decides to turn around, speaking to them for what will hopefully be the last time.

“I never want to see either of you ever again.”

Charlotte is waiting for her with open arms. She lets Fran cry herself to sleep, and even then she doesn’t dare move a muscle. The other girl needs her to provide love and stability, even in an unconscious state, and she understands. Sleep doesn’t come easy, or for long, but Charlotte’s there with Fran every step of the way.

☼☼☼☼

Fran is empty. Everything feels like it’s underwater, and she spends most of the morning distant from almost everything. Her friends are there, cracking small jokes and offering comforting touches. It’s much appreciated and Fran hopes they know this, because she’s too exhausted to tell them herself. The events of last night, and the weeks and months before, play on loop in her head. She feels personally responsible for the destruction of Mr. Bednar’s career, and though she knows he doesn’t blame you, Fran can’t help but blame herself.

No one pushes her much, which Fran appreciates. The other teachers know what happened last night, and don’t call on her for answers. Other students whisper but she does her best to ignore them, and when they get a little too rowdy Nate quiets them down with a quick-witted insult. Fran never liked most of them anyways. Nico is nowhere to be found, but she’d be the last person to get your hands on him. Nate, Tyson, and Cale have already said fighting him is worth the risk of getting expelled.

Luckily none of Fran’s friends get punished for The Society. The school administration places all the blame on Mr. Bednar, though that isn’t much of a conciliation. Everyone feels terrible, but the others are keeping their spirits up as much as possible for Fran.

“Look at this origami swan,” Tyson says, dropping it into Fran’s hands. “I figured out how to do it in trigonometry.”

It’s obvious he’s trying to distract her from the fact the pair of them are entering the English classroom. For the first time all year Mr. Bednar won’t be waiting, encouraging everyone to go after their dreams while talking about literature. Fran is grateful for the effort Tyson’s putting in, especially because today has been difficult for him too.

When she slides into her seat behind him, she notices that Dr. Sakic is writing on the blackboard. Once everyone is in their seats and the bell rings he addresses everyone. “I’ll be teaching you for the rest of the year, and we’ll hire a replacement in the summer,” he says. “Though, I suspect the only person in here who will care is Mr. Makar. Perhaps the position will be yours, young man.”

“Possibly Sir,” Cale says shyly, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

The lesson the headmaster turned substitute teacher gives is boring. Apparently very little Mr. Bednar taught was in the curriculum, so he plays catch up as quickly as possible. Fran barely pays attention, wondering what her old teacher is doing at the very moment. Could he already be out of the state, driven out by shame? A knock at the door pulls her from the daydream.

“I left some personal belongings in my office. Should I collect them after class?”

The voice of Mr. Bednar rings out through the room, and Fran whips around in her seat. There he is, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink, but still here and present. He lets the class have a small smile, informing them all he would be okay without having to say anything.

Dr. Sakic doesn’t look thrilled. “It’s fine Bednar, grab them now,” he sighs, corralling the class’s attention back to him.

Too afraid to meet his gaze, Fran stares at her textbook while he passes by. There’s some rustling in the small room behind the main classroom, and then her former teacher emerges. Knowing it’s the last time she’ll ever see the man, and that the guilt will eat her alive if she doesn’t, Fran speaks.

“Mr. Bednar, they made me sign those papers. Made all of us sign them,” she explains, words so rushed they jumble together.

He smiles kindly. “I know.”

“Miss Winters, that’s enough,” Dr. Sakic shouts before narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Your time has expired Mr. Bednar. It’s time for you to leave.”

Mr. Bednar heads for the door. No one else looks at him, too afraid of getting reprimanded by their new teacher. The lesson continues around her but Fran isn't paying attention. Suddenly there’s more rustling, and Tyson is standing on top of his desk.

“Oh Captain, my Captain,” he yells, completely disrupting the studious atmosphere.

The phrase stops Mr. Bednar in his tracks, and he turns around.

“Mr. Jost, get down this instant,” Sakic screeches.

Nate follows his friend’s lead, popping up and repeating the words. “Oh Captain, my Captain,” he says, adding a small salute for flair.

The courage of her friends nestles inside Fran’s stomach and pushes her to act. She rises in solidarity with them, and Charlotte and Cale follow suit. Dr. Sakic yells at the group repeatedly, threatening disciplinary measures that won’t be fun, but Fran could care less. All that matters to her in the moment is letting Mr. Bednar know that she’ll never stop caring about him or forget everything he did for her.

“Thank you kids,” he whispers, a single tear rolling down his left cheek.

Only the five of them stand in sendoff, but it feels like the entire world is on their side. Fran realizes that this is her world – her friends, her idol, and the wealth of memories and possibilities made possible because of them. That will always be enough.

#the banner looks like shit but we don't talk about it #but in all seriousness emma i hope you enjoy ❤️ #nathan mackinnon imagine #tyson jost imagine #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #the summer fic exchange 2k21 #cwrites

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

#athenawrites #my writing #exophilia #monster lover #orc lover #orc x human #monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #monster x human #requests #fiction #terato #romance #monster romance #orc

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hey! I hope I'm not bothering you, I just found your blog and I love it sm, and I saw you sometimes do cherik fic recs. Do you have any Canon divergence aus/fix it, preferably after Cuba, that are 30k or longer and have a happy ending? If not thats okay! You don't have to answer this. Have a wonderful day!

Hi anon, thank you so much. I’m happy you both like my blog and my recs. You are certainly not bothering me, and feel free to send me an ask any time. I have plenty of recommendations for you. Some of them diverge a bit from your request because I couldn’t help but recommend them as well. I will put a note on those who diverge from your request. As always, I only recommend fics I have personally read and enjoyed and I sincerely you love them too.

-Canon divergence aus/fix it, post Cuba, 30k or longer, with a happy ending cherik fic recs-

Not Half As Blinding- keire_ke

Summary: Cuban beach AU. Charles discovers that death does, in fact, solve everything.

Lay down beside me (so still and so soft) – C-Gracewood

Summary: A different take on the events of the film.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

When an Unstoppable Force Meets an Immovable Optimist – ToriTC198

Summary: "You are always trying to save me, Charles." Erik mused aloud. "Ever since you dove into the ocean and dragged me out. Did it ever occur to you that I might not be worth saving?"

A genuine smile broke out on Charles' face as he brightly answered, "No, my friend, not once. I have every confidence you are well worth saving. But, I never truly believed I could save you. You are not the sort of man who someone saves. The choice to be a better man has always been yours to make and I hold no illusions that I can make that decision for you. I simply have faith that one day you will save yourself. I only hope I am still at your side to witness it."

What if Erik and Charles had been able to find a middle ground in the end?

Take the First Option – ShowMeAHero

Summary: When Erik becomes unbalanced, Emma presents him with three options: go back to Charles for three months and learn to deal with whatever he has going have going on, lose his Brotherhood, or let Emma control his mind.

He really only has one choice.

Virtue to Which We Aspire – varlovian

Summary: Nine months after Cuba, Charles is found by Erik's Brotherhood in the smoldering ruins of an abandoned CIA base, exhausted but alive. As the only known survivor of the CIA's vendetta against mutants, recovering Charles' memory of the incident—which he admits to having forgotten—just became paramount.

But the harder they push, the closer Charles gets to breaking point. When he finally cracks, the X-Men and the Brotherhood will learn the truth, but it comes with a price...

Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.

Some minds, once broken, will never be the same again.

The Waking of the Red King – rustingroses

Summary: When Charles' heavy injuries on the Cuban beach conspire to leave him in a coma and living in fantasy of his own making, Erik, the man who once threatened to divide the mutant cause, finds himself desperately trying to hold everything together. First of the Red King trilogy.

Wake Up and Smell the Pancakes –  Ayra Sei Ethari

Summary: In one universe, Erik left Charles. In another, he stayed. So what happens when the two Eriks get switched? "At first, Erik thinks he's dreaming. Then he realizes that this is Charles. Who is not paralyzed. And kissing him.

Rage and Serenity – MagickMaker, TheFangedGoblin

Summary: After Charles is shot on the beach, he is rushed to the hospital and paralysis is prevented. Ridden with guilt, Erik finds that he cannot leave him. He helps him heal, and eventually, Charles learns to trust him again. But when they set out to rescue Emma from the CIA and accept her onto their team, tensions rise. Will love keep Erik and Charles together despite their differences?

No Yesterdays on the Road – pocky_slash

Summary: It's been two months since Cuba and things are settling down for Charles, Erik, and the beginnings of their mutant school. Right up until Charles disappears, that is. Faced with the possibility that a bitter Emma Frost has kidnapped Charles, Erik is forced to team up with Moira to hunt down the remainder of the Hellfire Club. From there, they hope to locate Frost and retrieve Charles, without killing each other along the way.

(Or: Erik and Moira Drive Across the Country and Talk About Their Feelings.)

What Can We Do Without You? – SwoopSwoop

Summary: Charles and the boys were holding onto a secret more dear to them than their own lives when Charles disappears into the night; Erik is betrayed and finds himself returning to Westchester in the hopes that the government was just trying to trick him. All the while the boys are stuck in the middle, left guarding the secret from the man they are most afraid of finding out who is weaselling his way back into their lives alarmingly easily.

Note: Includes Mpreg, but don’t let that discourage you from reading it because it’s a really great fix-it.

Survival Instinct – Lindstorm

Summary: It’s been months since Charles pulled Erik out of the ocean, and Erik is beginning to wonder how many more times he can choose Charles, and still keep his vow to kill Shaw. Cooperating with the CIA is straining Erik’s patience. When a fact-gathering mission goes wrong and Charles is kidnapped, Erik is left trying to hold their mutant band together while Raven and the rest of them fall apart. No one can foresee how the mutant Charles meets in captivity will challenge all his assumptions about his own power, and twist Charles’ telepathy out of his control. In the race to stop Shaw's nuclear ambitions from coming to fruition, Charles makes a crucial misstep. Erik’s decision between Shaw and Charles takes on unexpected ramifications when [spoiler deleted].

Needles (Series) – Skull_Bearer

Summary: AU where everyone's born Dominant or Submissive

Once a Dominant and Submissive pair is born, they are linked to each other, no matter how far apart they are. This link doesn't actually tell the Dom or the Sub each other's thoughts, but it does allow them to know how the other's doing and serves as a reassurance that there's someone meant for them out there.

Another one of the reasons that Erik hates Shaw so badly is because Shaw managed to break Erik's link to his Sub. Now Erik doesn't even know if his Sub's alive because breaking a link like that can kill a Submissive.

Meanwhile, Charles hates himself for not yet having telepathy strong enough to contact and help his Dom, especially after feeling the pain his Dom was forced to go through. He truly believes that his Dominant is dead. Hopes it, some nights when he remembers how his Dom was forced to suffer. It's better than to think of his Dom still being forced to bear that pain.

And then Charles pulls Erik from the water

Time to Grow – zarah5

Summary: In which you'll find chess dates which aren't dates (or maybe Charles is wrong about that). -- Based on First Class, this turns (slightly) AU during the beach scene.

Note: This fic is less than 30k words but it’s such a fandom classic and just a great read if you love your fix-its.

Faults for Fixing – beren

Summary: Charles sees the events of the missile crisis and subsequent weeks when he uses Cerebro to touch the mind of a mutant with the power to see the near future. When he wakes up he is determined that he will not allow them to happen and he will not lose the people he loves.

Note: A bit less than 30k words long but another great read.

It’s like one of us woke up – kaydeefalls

Summary: "You came here for me," Charles said, meeting Shaw's gaze levelly. "So let's not waste any more time."

Canon!AU in which Charles and Erik do find Shaw in Russia.

Note: XMFC fix it, but the events in Cuba don’t happen. 

Afterlife – Anna (arctic_grey)

Summary: A year after Washington, Erik wakes up in excruciating pain as sudden awareness washes over him: Charles is dead. Erik has to adjust to yet another future: no extinction, just a world without Charles. But the death of his former friend leaves Erik weak and his powers drained. His quest for answers leads him back to Westchester, where Erik has to face his past with Charles and put together the puzzle pieces of what happened to the man he once cared for.

The Burdens We Long to Carry – arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Summary: When mutant-supporter and ally President Kennedy is assassinated and all pro-mutant progress is dismantled, Charles is no longer so confident that he's on the right side, and extends his hand to Erik after a year of animosity. They settle tentatively into their old partnership, but not everything is the same as it was--and not everything can be. When Hank develops a metal frame to move the lower half of Charles' body for him if he wants it, Erik offers the use of his mind and his ability in order to make it work. Both find out what they're willing to do for each other, and neither knows if it'll be enough to keep them together.

Other Futures Than These – midrashic

Summary: In which Cuba doesn't break them apart, but that doesn't mean that their futures are tied together. (Except that it does.)

A Days of Future Past AU where only one person can defeat the Sentinels and save the future: the man whose imprisonment and torture created them, and Charles Xavier's ex.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own --

Set after X-3 (with much desperate fix-it applied), during XMFC, and every time in between.

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