#my freshman year of high school will continue to haunt me

[vodkori]

Love is Chronic

Love is Chronic

1.6K words

Fluff/Comfort Fic

You’ve been suffering from chronic pain for years. It’s hard, but you figure it out and enjoy life whenever possible with more doctor's appointments. In the past couple of months, it has gotten worse. It hurts to get out of bed and can no longer attend full days of school. The doctor's appointments have become more frequent to figure out what's causing the immeasurable pain, at least 2 a week.

You’re a high school junior and have been dating Loki for 2 years. He asked you to homecoming freshman year, and you have been dating since. He’s been there for every emergency room visit, every breakdown from doctors not listening, and every diagnosis. When the pain gets too bad that you have to cancel plans he’s always there to reimagine the plans to make them work. Whenever teachers give you a hard time he becomes very defensive and eventually the teachers stop giving you trouble.

Every day you have first-period AP Government with Loki, Nat, and Wanda. You went through notes on Monday so today, Tuesday, you were given notes to read from the book and make notes in groups. You weren’t feeling well so you were just sitting with your legs on Loki’s lap, head resting on his shoulder, while he sat there rubbing your back. 

“Hey did any of you get bureaucracy? I’m not understanding the book definition,” asked Wanda.

“Well, since those 2 are too busy cuddling to even open the book,” Nat responds casting a look at you and Loki, “The definition I got was, a system of government in which most of the important decisions are made by state officials rather than by elected representatives”

“Thanks, Nat,” Wanda replied.

“Hey, I have an excuse. Loki on the other hand is just slacking off,” You objected.

“Excuse me I am occupied, being a good boyfriend and taking care of you,”

“Nah, Y/N’s right, you can do 2 things at once. I mean you are a god after all. Can’t comfort your girl and finish your homework?” Nat teases.

“Shut up, Mortal,” Loki responds.

“Oh! Using mortal as an insult are we? As a lowly mortal myself I’m a bit offended,” You reply.

“Love, you know I never mean you. You’re on another level, everyone else are simply creatures,” Loki defends.

“So sweet. You think I’m better than a creature,” You coo.

A few minutes pass.

“Oh, yea!” You exclaim. “I have a neurology appointment this morning so I’ll be leaving after this class,”

“Ok, good luck,” Wanda replies.

“Hope they can figure something out for you,” Nat wishes.

“Would you like me to come with you, my love?” Loki asks.

“Thank you,” You direct towards Wanda and Nat before replying to Loki. “You know you have to stay here. I’ll text you once I’m done,”

“Will you be coming back?” Loki asks.

“The current plan is yes, but chances are I’m gonna feel too shitty to come back and will stay home,”

“Alright love, just let me know,” Loki states, kissing your forehead. “Is it alright if I come over after school?”

“Of course, I will. Yea that’s fine just head over when school lets out,” You answer.

Nat, Wanda, and Loki continue to work while you rest your head from your migraine. A while later the bell rings. You say your goodbyes to Nat and Wanda, and head to the door with Loki.

“I’ll text you soon Love,” You say.

“Alright My Queen, I’ll see you soon,” He states, pulling you into a soft kiss.

You go to the office and sign out, leaving. You drive home to meet with your mom to go to the doctor's office.

The appointment results in nothing more than wasted gas. The doctor was once again condescending. On your way home you are in your regular immeasurable pain along with the emotional pain of haunting thoughts of your pain not truly existing and the fact no one believes you. The pain is too much to return to school, so after a conversation with your mom you stay home. When getting home you exhaustedly get into your pajamas consisting of an oversized t-shirt once belonging to Loki. You pull up your favorite playlist on Spotify, text Loki that you’ve arrived home, and immediately fall asleep.

Loki’s POV (After you left)

After saying goodbye to Y/N I went to environmental science which I had with Thor and Bucky. Normally I had it with Y/N as well but obviously, she was gone. The teacher was normally late so we always had 5-10 minutes to talk at the beginning of class. Thor and Bucky came in about 30 seconds before the bell rang having first period together on the other side of the school. They came in and sat down, Thor never being someone that was quite immediately started a conversation. I think that's, why he and Bucky were such good friends, Bucky, is quiet and untalkative, while Thor is loud and conversational.

“Brother! Where is Y/N? You two never seem to separate,” Thor exclaimed.

“She is at another doctor's appointment,” I answered worry fully.

“Ah! Is she still feeling poorly?” He questions.

“Yes, just about always,” I answer.

“Shall I tell mother that you will not be coming right after school?” He tries to aid.

“I’m she assumes at this point but yes I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” I express.

“No sooner done than said, Brother,” He responded.

“I’m sorry. What?” I ask confused.

“Oh, Loki. It is a common phrase meaning I will do it immediately. You really need to catch up on your slang brother,” He answers patronizingly.

“Well, ‘Brother’ I think ‘No sooner said than done’ would be the correct phrasing,” I reply snidely.

“Oh! Perhaps it is,” He considers.

After our discussion ends Thor goes on to talk about his first-period weightlifting class and football practice the night before.

The rest of the day goes by without anything notable happening, Y/N texts at about 11:30 saying she was home. As soon as the last bell rang I was out the door and in the parking lot. I get in my car and drive to her house. I grab my backpack and knock on her door, her older brother lets me in, and I go directly to her room. I walk in quietly as she’s normally asleep after a strenuous day. And that fact continues to prove true. As I walk in she’s asleep on her side with her thighs at a 90-degree angle to her torso, one hand under her head and the other brought up forearm in front of her face hand touching her other elbow. I quietly take off my shoes, go to the side of the bed she’s not sleeping on, set my bag down, and slip under the covers. Needing the comfort because I know there was nothing else I can do for her but comfort and feeling lost at that knowing from the slight disarray of her room the appointment didn’t go well, we both needed it. After getting situated I carefully shift her onto my lap and chest. She murmurs and looks up at me waking ever so slightly.

“Loki?” She mumbles.

“Yea, love. I’m here. Go back to sleep,”

“Ok,” She mumbles again.

As she goes back to sleep she reaches her arms around my neck and lays her head on my chest. I kiss the crown of her head and gently rub her back. Once I’m sure she’s back asleep I take the remote and change it from Spotify and put on Supernatural as I’ve been trying to catch up on her favorite show.

She starts to wake up after 2 episodes. As I feel her start to wake up a look down as she looks up at me.

“Hey baby, how ya feeling?” I ask.

“Already feelin’ like shit, migraines already killer,” She answers sleepily.

“I’m sorry love. Anything I can do?” I wonder.

“Could you pass me my migraine medicine?” She questions.

“Of course. Anything else?” I say while passing her her medicine as well as her water.

“Not right now baby. Thank you,” She days before taking her meds and kissing me on the cheek.

She looks at the TV and asks “What episode are you watching?”

“I believe it was called ‘The Mystery Spot’” I answer.

“Oh, that’s a good one. The trickster is one of my favorites,” She exclaims.

“How come?” I ask her, adoring her excitement.

“Well, both the episode and the trickster are exceptionally funny. And it helps that the trickster is pretty handsome as well.” She answers, smiling.

“Oh is he?” I ask looking her in the eye.

“Yea, he is.” She looks up at me giggling.

“If you say so, my love. I’ll let you get away with it this time,” I say before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

After another 2 hours of watching Supernatural together, we both decide that we’re hungry and order a pizza. As it gets later I ask if she wants me to stay the night tonight, which she does. I text my mother explaining that Y/N doesn’t feel well and I will be staying. She texts back quickly okaying the plan but making me promise that when she feels well again to bring her back over. I agree knowing that Y/N and my mom get along well. Soon after Y/N gets up and does her nightly routine, I also take the time to get changed into some of the clothes I’ve left here. Once she comes back we switch to Youtube to not fall asleep in the middle of the season and lay down. Me on my back and he with her hand behind my head and in my hair, her head on my chest as well as her other hand. I wrap one of my arms around her wrist and my other hand on top of hers. She falls asleep first and I fall asleep soon after her.

#Avengers!Highschoolau #loki x reader #chronic pain #the avengers #loki #mcu loki #comfort fic #comfort #fluff #loki x female reader #pure fluff #x reader #loki fluff #loki of asgard #loki friggadottir #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Ectober week day seven!! Last day (although I still have to finish my fic for yesterday rip)

CASPER HIGH SCHOOL IS HAUNTED

[warnings for mentioned marijuana usage]

My mom told me, that ever since she was in high school, Casper High... has been haunted.

She says that seventeen years ago, when she was a senior, there was this freshman kid whose parents were paranormal scientists, and one day, at the beginning of the year, he was in an accident in their lab. He was only out of school for two days, but when he came back he was... different. At first, no one really noticed since most of the changes were small or gradual.

Like how the first month of school, the kid was a model student, then when he came back to school after the accident, he was suddenly a problem child, constantly breaking lab equipment, falling asleep in class, bumping in to people, skipping school. My mom said he always looked on edge too, shifty-eyed, like he was waiting for something to jump out at him.

Then the ghosts started showing up.

The first one was a lunch lady with glowing green skin who turned the meat in the cafeteria into meat monsters that attacked the students and faculty. She came to get revenge on a girl who got the school lunch menu changed to add vegan options. The school was evacuated, and all the students were accounted for, except the weird kid and his two friends, who no one could find.

The second ghost was called Phantom, and no one what exactly caused him to appear. Unlike all the other ghosts, he didn't want revenge or power. He showed up out of the blue, and within fifteen minutes, he fought the Lunch Lady, and trapped her in a magic thermos, then vanished. No one saw him leave. He was just gone... without a trace.

My mom says she didn't notice it herself, but some of the weird kid's classmates said that after that first ghost attack, the kid started carrying around a strange-looking thermos everywhere he went. But no one ever saw him eat or drink from it. People said that sometimes... they heard howling and moaning coming from it. Like there was something inside... and it wanted out.

That was the first haunting, but it wasn't the last. That same year on Halloween night, the Fright Knight himself showed up at the school haunted house to get back the sword the weird kid had somehow stolen from him, and unleash hell on the whole town. Phantom showed up again, defeated Fright Knight, and just as before, he disappeared like he was never there at all.

For four years ghosts attacked the school, Phantom would show up out of nowhere, fight them, beat them, and disappear just a quickly. My mom graduated after the first year, but my Aunt Mindy was there the whole time. She was in the same year as the weird kid, and even had a class with him when they were sophomores. She swears one time she saw his eyes glow bright green.

She also says that in her yearbooks, if you compare his yearbook photos you can see how his appearance changes over time. Their freshman photos were taken before his accident, and he looks totally normal, but with each year his skin looks paler, his hair looks wispier, his teeth look sharper, and his eyes look brighter, and the photos themselves start to have distortion in them, like there's something wrong with the camera, but only for his photos.

But no matter how much his appearance changed, he never looked older. She dug out her yearbook to show me his senior photo once, and it's totally true. In his senior photo he's pale as a ghost, and his hair looks like it's floating, and his teeth look like straight-up fangs, it's super creepy.

Anyway, my Aunt Mindy told me that the ghost attacks continued, until her graduation ceremony. And at the ceremony, every ghost that had ever attacked the school was in the audience, just sitting there, peacefully, putting everyone on edge. Every ghost except for Phantom, who was notably missing. As soon as the weird kid took his diploma, the ghosts vanished.

My mom was there too, sitting right next to the ghost of a pop-star, so close she could feel the heat of the ghostly flames. She said that when the ghosts disappeared, there was a sense of finality that you could almost touch, like a pressure was released, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Somehow they were sure that was the end of the hauntings, and everything would be safe and normal again.

My Aunt Lina says the weirdness didn't end there. She started high school the year after Aunt Mindy graduated. She was supposed to be a freshman when Aunt Mindy was a senior, but she got held back once in the sixth grade and had to repeat a year. She says when she started at Casper High, she knew something was up with it right away.

There were cold spots in the classrooms, and no matter how high you turned the thermostat, they never went away. If you listened closely, you could hear voices in the library, even when no one was talking. The lights would flicker in the hallway sometimes, for no reason, and the old ghost alarms, you know... the ones gathering dust in each of the classrooms and the hallways because they haven't been used in over a decade? Well they would flash, just once, not like they would to alert you of a ghost, briefly enough that it could just be a trick of the light, except that so many students were so sure they'd seen it. They couldn't all be mistaken.

Then, halfway through Aunt Lina's freshman year, one of the upperclassmen found a classroom next to the auditorium that was all boarded up and hadn't been used in years. Room 146. He thought it would be a good place to hide out and smoke weed with his friends since it looked like even the janitor had forgotten where it was, so he and his friends pried up the boards, and when they opened the door there were met with an icy gust of wind.

The inside of the room was so cold they could see their breath, even though the school was pretty well heated. And it looked like it had once been a storage room that they hadn't cleared out before they boarded it up because it was full of weird technology, strange artifacts, and books on the occult. Everything was stacked up against the walls along with a wall of stacked desks and chairs from when it had once been an actual classroom.

The only thing not pushed to the side was a single desk standing in the middle of the room with an odd looking thermos standing on top of it. It had the last name of the weird kid written on the side. When they tried to pick up the thermos, they got zapped with a static shock. It seemed like no matter how many times they tried to pick it up, it never ran out of static charge 'cause it just kept shocking them.

The students weren't really bothered by any of this, and they pulled out their joint, but every time they tried to light it, a breeze would come out of nowhere and put their lighter out. Aunt Lina says she heard one of the kids who was actually there telling people about it, and he swore up and down he heard a disembodied voice say "don't smoke that shit in here!"

After that, they all ran out screaming.

They spread the story around the school, and a few days later, a group of students calling themselves the paranormal research club went to room 146. My Aunt Lina was with them, since she was always a believer in the paranormal. They observed the thermos, took readings of the temperature, and catalogued all the items that had been stored there. While they did this, they also cleaned up the room, dusting and mopping, but never moving the desk in the center, or the thermos on top, believing that it didn't want to be moved.

It took them two weeks, and by the time they finished, one of the members complained that they hadn't gotten any studying done because they were busy with this project after school every day and during lunch, and they were totally going to fail their physics test. When they left the room after lunch, that member says they felt like the icy chill that always hung in room 146 followed them out.

Thinking it was just their imagination, they went to physics class. The tests got handed out, and as expected, they knew immediately that they were screwed. They didn't recognize any of the equations, and were sure they were about to bomb, but then, they heard a voice whispering in their ear. It walked them through the first problem, then the second, then the third, helping them find the answer, correcting them when they got something wrong.

They said as soon as they turned in their test, the icy chill that had followed them vanished, and they felt warmth finally set in. When they got the test back, they saw they'd gotten an A.

Sure that they'd gotten help from whatever mysterious entity was in room 146, they went back the next day with a bag of offering, like they would offer their dead loved ones on the Day of the Dead, sweets and fresh bread and flowers. They spoke to the creature, which they assumed was a ghost, thanking it for its help. They asked its name.

It answered, "Phantom."

Again, the story got spread around the school, and other students started going to room 146, bringing gifts for Phantom, and asking for his help, with tests with bullies, with setting up decorations for school dances, and it worked. More stories spread among the student body, of hearing test answers, of bullies shoelaces being somehow tied together, of streamers and lights hanging themselves on the gym's ceiling for homecoming.

And the offerings... the flowers stayed fresh, the trinkets were neatly arranged on the shelves, the sweets and snacks disappeared. Though the Paranormal Research Club still kept the room clean, they all swore on their lives they never did anything to the offerings, except throw out the flowers when they finally died.

To this day, Casper High's famous Paranormal Research Club maintains Room 146 as part of their club activities, and you can still leave offerings for Phantom ans ask for his help, although they say he's been pickier and less active in the past couple of years, the rumor mill still circulates new stories.

My best friend said she asked Phantom that nothing would go wrong for her at her first prom, and when she got back, she noticed her dress had ripped at some point in the night, but she hadn't noticed because somehow it had been fixed with a safety pin made out of ice. She still has that pin; I've seen it. It's been months, but it hasn't melted.

You may not believe in ghost stories. You may scoff at the idea of ghouls and cryptids. You may think there's no monster under your bed, but do you know for sure? Have you checked?

I have.

#ectoberweek #danny phantom #dp #drug mention #cryptid danny fenton #fic #sorry I missed yesterday my post-op painkillers made me too spacey to finish it on time so I’m gonna post it late once I get my brain back #things i wrote

[roman-cup]

You have pretty eyes

Garrance oneshot based on my PDH rewrite I didnt write yet

Posted on ao3 and quotev before, now its here

past garmau and garroth x ivy  mentioned

"You have beautiful eyes." Laurance looked over at Garroth, who clearly does not understand personal space, as he leaned VERY close to Laurance face. He blinked "..Thanks..?" He did not blush because that would be lame and he's a shadow knight hes not lame! Garroth nodded. He moved away and looked back at his work. Laurance stared to see if he would say anything else. He did not. Ok then? Laurance had hetrochromia. One eye blue one green. but, still? Unprompted?? "Uh...??? Elaborate?" "On what?" "Dude??" "Oh. You're eyes are pretty" he shrugged. "Like, the sun is hitting them right now and its pretty" Laurance, for some embarrassing reason. Responded to that by throwing his hand in front of his eyes. Which is stupid, because who cares if he looks at his eyes? Weird compliment aside. Lucky Garroth had just looked away again. -- It was there Junior year of high school and Garroth and Laurance have been dating for 1 year. "You're eyes are pretty" Garroth grinned as he put his head on Laurance shoulder, showing off his braces clearly. Laurance was finally able to get his braces off a few months ago. Maybe he felt bad eating popcorn in front of him, but all in all? Not his fault his boyfriend has to wear braces. Plus Laurance still has to suffer. The dentist said he has to wear a retainer?? Forever?? Garroth, competently unaware of Laurance internal monologue continues to speak "They're all shiny and stuff.." Laurance smiled and held his hand, but held a laugh. "Deja vu" "Whatt..?" Garroth looked up at him "You already told me my eyes were prettyyy" Laurance sung light heartily. Laurance is still not sure if Garroth was trying to flirt with him freshman year, or if he was just, like that. "No I didn't...oh no" Garroth sat up "You remembered that?" "I was supposed to forget?" He laughed. "Yes!" Garroth grabbed his shoulders "oh my irene.." he groaned "That has haunted me..," "Oh and I'm dramatic?" He elbowed him lightly "Come on, its not like I was gonna be upset that my -favorite person- and love of my life likes my eyes' Laurance tried to comfort "You didn't like me freshman year" he corrected, he crossed his arms, and cracked a smile. Still embarrassed. "You don't know that." Neither did Laurance, to be honest. When DID he start to like him? He knows he likes him now, obviously, but he didn't even notice until after GarroTh and Aph had broken up. "Well did you?" Garroth looked at him "If you did I'd feel bad, because I didn't" Laurance thought. Well, Laurance did flirt with him that year, and last year, he was joking thought...right? "Oh yeah I'm heartbroken, and it was so platonic and straight of you to tell me how nice my eyes were by the way" Garroth flushed embarrassed again. "My boyfriend thinks my eyes are pretty~" Laurance sung. To add to his shame. "Oh hush, come it was weird, that I said that!" Laurance shrugged. He definitely thought it was weird when he said it. He still hung out with him after though, so, he got over it. "So like,, why did you say it? I mean I know you said you didn't like me but like,, was that flirtingggg? Orr?" Garroth shrugged. "Who knows. I haven't seen two eye colors much, I figured it was cool" Laurance nodded. He held Garroth hand "Hmm." He hummed again and grinned "My boyfriend thinks my eyes are pretty~" Garroth groaned light-heartily "Oh hush you love me." Laurance laughed "Yeah I do" he laughed a bit.  "What?" "What? I didn't say anything, nope." "Nope don't do that." Laurance stared at him, flustered.

They hadn't really used the 'i love you' phase. Yes, nicknames like "love" "lovely" "love of my life" where definitely there, but the actual words? Nope. "You love me?" Laurance looked up him. He asked casually, or he tried very hard to, and that what matter right? A for effort? Garroth shrugged. "I dont..know?" He said honesty. "I feel like I do! But I thought I loved Aphmau too." "Oh yeah.." Laurence bit his lip. "But like" Garroth continued "We know that didn't like-" he put his own hands in the air to visually demonstrate and short line "go on for long." "Yeahhh-"

"And there was my relationship with Ivy freshman year,,poor girls still mad at me for it."

"I wouldn't call her a 'poor girl'"

Garroth rolled his eyes. "whatever, my point is- I'm scared."  Laurance looked up "offf-" he looked around like what he was saying was forbidden, and it kinda felt like it was "Saying I love you?" Garroth nodded. Relaxing and putting his head back on Laurance shoulder, Laurance put an arm around him. "I don't want to go on and saying things like that and have it end up being wrong again. I mean me and Aph are still friends thankfully, But-" Laurance just stared at him. He felt he should comment on this this speech, but he didn't want to interrupt. Plus, now he was wondering, did he love Garroth? "But- I don't really want to lose you- an-and! I,, currently would like to date you as long as you let me- but if-" Garroth held his hands up again to vaguely gesture as he spoke " if I say -that- I think it would be worse when you.. no longer want to." Garroth ended awkwardly. Then blushed "I am sorry for the speech, I ruined the moment, didn't I?" He chuckled. Laurance stared at him. Before he shook his head to get rid of his thoughts. He then shook it again. "No way!" He yelled. Then put a hand over his mouth and sighed. "You didn't ruin anything dude, don't worry about that. Plus,, I dunno that was kinda sweet.." "Its sweet that I won't say I love you..?" Garroth looked at Laurance weirdly. "I must have explained it was wrong then" Laurance giggled "No no, but like, I dunno.." he started using a hand to nervously play with his hair. It made it down past his shoulders by now. Geez. "I like knowing you wanna stay with me." "Well..yeah of course I do.." Laurence looked at him smiled and continued "By the wayyy, if that's the case, Then this relationship won't end because I am going to propose the moment I can..". Laurence, despite only being 16, nodded proudly. Fully trusting this statement. This didn't seem to shake Garroth, who is also 16, for long. He stared at him a moment before laughing "Oh please, I'll beat you too it." "Oh yeah?" "Yes!" "We will see..." "Well-!"Garroth looked ready to say something, then stopped himself. Laurence bit his lip nervously, did he cross a line somehow. Was marriage to much? "Well..what?" "Nothing,,nothing" Laurance frowned. "YOU..ok? Sorry I- oh my irene" he groaned " you just talked about not wanting to bring up 'I love yours and I bring up marriage, fuck-.sorry" he facepalmed. "What no no it was sweet!" Garroth looked at him "I'm not upset, I just paused because-" "Causeee?'" "I figured.. I could beat you too it if I do it -now- "You're ...proposing now..?" Laurance stated blanking. Yeah, he said it, but, seriously, they were 16. "Well no not that but.. I figured. We could get promise rings?" "Ohhhh- so like, a promise to stay together." "Yeah! When we are older,, well we will see..but- oh fuck that would be going to far again-" Garroth put his hands over his face. "See? Even I can't stop myself from going to far!" "I mean- we don't have to..butt.. I won't mind." Garroth looked up over his hands "Really?" Laurance nodded "yeah, really" he stared to grin. Laurance had no idea WHEN he started to like Garroth really, and maybe love was still a strong word, but Laurance knew he wanted Garroth to be in his life. Which, whenever Laurance thought of a future he though marriage. So? Why not? Garroth sat up and smiled "OK! I'll buy us rings! Oh wanna help or a surprise." "Surprise me!" "Ok!" Garroth seems to have calmed down. That was good. "Oh and by the way." Laurence started. "What?" "Back to the whole, love thing.. how about this.. we can say,, I love you,, if you want, but not in super serious way, yet yeah?" "Hmm yeah. Ok then. Should I say it now." "I'll say it back if you do." "Ok."Garroth took a breath "Laurance I love you,," he closed his eyes for a second, like he expected everything to crash right now, when it didn't he added" anndd your eyes are still shiny." he grinned.  "Pf-" laurance laughed "Well I love you too...anndd I love your eyes too." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah!" Garroth laughed, he kissed Laurance cheek "I think we are dorks" "Oh you are. I'm cool though" laurance nudged him "its ok though, your adorable" "Hmp,, okk Mr. Long bright orange hair." "You LIKED my hair" "Not relevant" "Also-" Laurance gestured to his hair, his brown roots growing out but the bottom half was definitely orange, just slightly faded. Still bright though "its STILL orange, dickhead" "So..I win?" "No, your a dork" "Damn it" Laurance grabbed his hand once again "Hey." "Hn?" "I love you" Garroth sighed "I love you too." 

#aphmau #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvhal #garrance #ti's pdh rewrite

[regallibellbright]

Today in “apparently this crappy show will haunt me forever,” I mentioned the jukebox musical we did for my high school freshman year, Back To The Eighties, while talking to someone. Including bringing up the Star Wars dream sequence set to the theme from The Greatest American Hero - and no, I have no idea why they chose an entirely different property’s theme song for a Star Wars dream sequence. Even if they couldn’t get the rights you’d think they’d have chosen something that wasn’t a theme song? Anyway.

On the way home, what comes up on the radio but Believe It Or Not, theme song from The Greatest American Hero. My mom and I find this very funny and sing along because how can you not, and keep singing even as we enter a tunnel and the signal cuts out. I time the instrumental break in my head and continue. My mom can’t keep track of it and wonders out loud as we finish the song what part it’ll be at when we get out of the tunnel, shortly before we do.

Me: I know I go fast in my head but I remember how long the lightsaber fight is, we’ll probably be at the very end or the very start of the next song.

We exit the tunnel on the very last notes of Believe It Or Not. I was in this show fifteen years ago and wasn’t even in this number. Score one for Regalli’s musical memory, I guess.

#family shenanigans #incest mention in tags #in fairness it’s also a very memorable sequence due to having one of the funniest stage directions in a show full of bizarre ones #(a dancer with a chiffon scarf appears to give the scene a surreal feel) which is entirely unnecessary #because the scene puts Acceptable Levels of Nerdy Protagonist as Luke Skywalker; Jerk Jock Romantic Rival as Darth Vader; #and Love Interest as Princess Leia. and then they do the Luke-Vader fight from the end of Empire. You know the one. #don’t think too hard about it the writers sure as hell didn’t. this is about the level of eighties reference and plot writing throughout. #the pit had to rewrite/improvise the Eye of the Tiger score because it was so profoundly off #they also had to debug the score because apparently it had sections for saxophone containing notes saxophones cannot hit. #as one does. #the other funniest stage direction here is the one at the end of Centerfold in which the final count is ‘one last tirade against humanity’ #(that one-two-three-four before the final round of nah nahs.) #in case you couldn’t tell this is not a good show and as far as I can tell it’s largely done by amateur productions like say high schools #because they need nostalgia money and the license is cheaper than Footloose (or it’s otherwise unavailable) #it makes for some great stories though. #oh also I give it a pass because it was written in like 2001 but it includes Never Gonna Give You Up. so we also got rickrolled for months #riiiiight around its peak.

[zipzin]

2023 Year In Review

Stats

The numbers in case anyone is curious :)

AO3 Total: 214,086

AO3 This Year: 78,253

I can’t believe I wrote 100,000 more words this year than last year! I tracked all my writing again, so this is all spread across outlining, drafting, and editing, and these words definitely don’t translate to words that will be published. But it gets the vibe and I’m super proud that every month I contributed something.

November was a huge surprise because I was in a little bit of a slump and my only goal for Nano was to draft at least a sentence a day (which I completed except for Thanksgiving which I’m giving myself a pass on). I surprised myself by almost getting to 50,000! Which I haven’t done since I first started Nano as a freshman in High School.

The Same Recurring Questions

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year or less than what you’d predicted?

I thought I wrote a lot last year, but I almost doubled that this year. I started to give myself a lot more permission to write what I’m interested in and ride the waves of creativity, but I want to continue to get better at that. I’m not a very forgiving person, especially of myself, and sometimes I get too hyper focused on banging my head against an arbitrary deadline on a story I just am not feeling. I want to work on those stories through some of that pain, but not so much it grinds my writing to a halt.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you never would have predicted in January 2023?

While I haven’t posted any fics yet, Critical Role. I can’t really believe I started watching (which only happened because my own DnD group was taking a break for a couple weeks) and then I totally got sucked into Campaign 3. For actually posted fic, it’s Willow, just because I barely knew it existed (and now it’s not even officially posted anywhere anymore).

What’s your favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest.

I can’t pick between Morning Mist and The Law of Entropy. I’m really proud of Morning Mist, it's more literary (I guess? More serious might be better wording?) piece and I do want to explore mother daughter relationships more in my writing because I firmly believe that every mother daughter relationship is complicated and most of my favorite characters have a complicated relationship with their mother… We don’t need to read into that.

The Law of Entropy was a story I worked on and off for 6 years! That’s what I mean when I say I’m a very slow writer. To finally get it completed, well it makes me really happy and gives me hope for a lot of my other WIPs that I write a little bit here and there.

Do you have any fanfic goals for the New Year 2023?

Last year I wanted to post at least 12 stories and I finished the year with nine (technically I posted 13 on Ao3 but some of those had already been posted to tumblr so I’m not counting them), so I still want to get to 12. The other main goal is that I want to fully outline Act 2 of Boomerang. I vaguely know where it’s going, but I haven’t sat down and planned it as thoroughly as I’d like and I feel like it’s totally slowing me down from getting that completed. It haunts me, and I won’t ever abandon it, so it would be great to get a lot closer to finishing it.

#my writing #mine #year in review

[collegiatedegenrate]

My Backstory

I go by R on here, and I'm creating this Tumblr to document and help motivate me with Tumblr's beautiful aesthetics, to complete my wildest academic dreams as someone who is pursuing higher education.

My story is quite similar to other addicts and those who have struggled with substance abuse. I can tell you that I had a rough abusive childhood or how I was so convinced I deserved the things I went through that I allowed it to continue and haunt me into my adult years. But this story isn't about that, it may have been the starting point but it is not my ending, and I will not allow my life to center around it anymore.

I started using drugs and drinking when I was young. It started with alcohol. By the time I was 18 I had a full blown drinking problem and substance abuse issue. I would go to school blackout drunk. I would take double doses of vyvance to get me through class, and take Xanax at night to sleep. I went to school full time, I worked full time. And I made perfect grades, until I didn't.

See, the issues showed before that. And yes, I was so obviously trying to run from my pain. At that point in my life, all I wanted was to numb myself to my emotions, and I had no care as to how that happened. Around sophomore year is when things started to spiral. I cared less and less about how I looked, and I stopped trying in class. I loved learning when I was young. I loved to read. Through years of abuse, how could I possibly care about either of those? I lost my passion for knowledge, because all I cared about was not feeling a damn thing.

I finished high school with a gpa of 3.4, which amazes me to this day. My prospects were not looking good, especially for someone who didn't care about their life. I felt an overwhelming weight of the world on my shoulders as probably any 18 year old does. Hell, we got told "choose your career path you want to pursue for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE:)." I tried. I think I've known my passion has always science. I understood it like the back of my hand. It came naturally, with ease, and with so much joy. The college I chose, was the one in my town that pretty much everyone goes to. So instead of choosing the college of my dreams (if you would've asked freshman year me; Vanderbilt) I chose the one everyone else chose.

I didn't last half the semester before I dropped out. My anxiety and depression were eating me alive to the point I couldn't eat or hold down food, and I couldn't sleep. On top of it all, my drug and alcohol use was at the highest levels. So I dropped out. Actually, I just stopped going.

Now I'm a few months away from being 25, and in the near 7 years I've been out of highchool, I could probably write a book of the shit I've experienced. And that's exactly it. I didnt hit my turning point until after I got sober. I got sober after rehab. But the moment I got sober was not the moment my life changed, but goddamn was it a catalyst for it. Rock bottoms arent always drug related, although many of mine were, but also due to lack of passion. I was living a life that would soon run me into the ground, even without drugs or alcohol. Im not sure I'm ready to delve into the nuances of what I did in-between now and then. All I knew was that I had to do something different. Things had to change, I must surrender to the universe.

So I moved back home with my family. I have been substance abuse free for 2 years now, and I start community college this fall. No, its not the college of my dreams, but its a starting point and god am I grateful just for the opportunity. I will see it through this time around. I know what I don't want to do for the rest of my life, and while I'm not 100% sure the exact route I want to take, I know that I'm ready to venture out and try what I think I want to do.

Thank you to anyone who read any part of that. This is mainly an online journal for myself. I am here for support to any other young adult who's pursuing higher education and/or has a past or is currently struggling with substance abuse/addiciton. Life is worth living, and we might as well try for our dreams while we're here.

Much Love, R

#mental health #journaling #recovery #addiction #substance abuse #ptsd #childhood trauma

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him? #i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

[c-e-d-dreamer]

since you asked for prompts: modern Nessian going to a haunted house?

Thank you for taking pity on my boredom. This was fun to write! When I was in high school, the local haunted house was put on by the community and all the theatre kids worked it, so I decided the same would be true here. Hope you enjoy! :)

Nesta stares down at the bright orange flyer in her hand, the tape from where it was pressed to their front door causing the top to droop slightly under the weight. A pumpkin pattern flows around the edges of the page, and someone has drawn ghosts with a sharpie before the flyer was copied. The lettering is big and bold, clearly trying to give off some sort of spooky vibe. It declares there will be a community haunted house this weekend. How cliche.

“What’s that?” Cassian’s voice interrupts before Nesta can crumble up the flyer to throw away.

“The community is doing some haunted house this year,” she explains.

“Oh, when is it?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“Are we in eighth grade? Who goes to a haunted house in their twenties?”

“Scared, sweetheart?”

The smirk tugging up the left side of Cassian’s lips has an unimpressed scowl settling on Nesta’s own face. She knows he’s doing it on purpose, getting under her skin in the way only he can. The only one to worm his way into the gaps between her ribs, to sink into the grooves of her bones. He did it with that same cocky smirk he’s wearing now when they met their freshman year of college. He burrowed deep and decided to never leave.

“Fine. We’ll go Friday.”

~ * * * ~

Friday rolls around, and it’s a near perfect fall evening. The air is cool and a gentle breeze rustles the red and golden leaves that still cling to their home on the tree branches. The sky is a soft indigo awashed with violet clouds as the sun continues to sink below the horizon. Cassian has his arm slung around Nesta’s shoulders, and she presses in close to seep some of his warmth as they make their way through their neighborhood and around the corner to the local park.

Fairy lights have been strung about, and a painted sign with an arrow declares the direction of the entrance. They follow the jack-o-lantern lit path to the ticketing table, paying the five dollars each before waiting for the hay-ride that will apparently be taking them to the haunted house. Nesta recognizes a few of the other people waiting, having seen them when she’s gone to get the mail or when bringing in groceries.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Nesta mutters, as they settle onto the blanket covered hay.

“Technically, I didn’t have to,” Cassian points out, his tone dripping with smugness that leaves Nesta rolling her eyes.

“Next time, I’ll be sure to fight a little harder just to knock your ego down a few pegs.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, but Nesta feels him tense beside her. She turns her head to look at him, eyebrows pinched in confusion, but Cassian’s eyes are glued over the shoulder of the couple sitting opposite them.

“Cassian…” Nesta starts, reaching out a hand to his knee, causing Cassian to jump slightly before snapping his head in her direction.

“Did you see that clown running between the trees?” Cassian whispers.

Nesta has to press her lips together firmly, to keep the huff of laughter buried in her throat, as she takes in Cassian’s wide eyes and the way color seems to have bled away from his cheeks. Something must show in her eyes, though, because an unimpressed frown pulls across Cassian’s face.

“Clowns are terrifying,” Cassian insists.

“Whatever you say,” Nesta offers, patting his knee consolingly.

Cassian opens his mouth like he’s about to say more, but then the hay-ride is pulling to a stop, eerie music from some hidden speaker cutting through the night air. Nesta uses Cassian’s hand for balance as she steps down from the bed of the truck, and then they’re walking up the short front walkway to the haunted house.

“Welcome ladies and gents,” a gangly teenager with zombie makeup greets them at the entrance with a maniacal laugh. He pushes the front door behind him open. “Enter if you dare.”

Nesta can’t help but snort at the over dramatics, but she follows the small crowd inside. The front room is bedecked in fake cobwebs, fake bloodied clothes thrown over the furniture, and spooky pictures with automated eyes that move back and forth hanging on the walls. Cassian’s hand finds hers, calluses sliding against her palm as their fingers tangle together.

They follow the arrows taped onto the floor through a hallway with fake hands sticking out of the walls and knocking against them as they walk. They’re about to turn a corner when another teenager, this time dressed in a raggedly looking doctor’s coat and with fake blood all over him, jumps out and gets in their faces. Cassian practically jumps out of his skin, his arm shooting out reflexively and shoving Nesta back behind him. Nesta swats at his arm at the action and pushes past both him and the teenage doctor. It takes a moment, but then Cassian is falling back into step beside her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“So now doctors are terrifying too?” Nesta teases.

“I was just startled, not actually scared,” Cassian defends.

The next room has a hole in one of the walls, two more teenagers inside making some sort of ghostly moaning sounds and reaching out toward them. They keep a wide berth of their outstretched arms, heading into the next hallway that’s awashed in a sickly green light. They’re halfway through when a fake spider drops down from the ceiling. Cassian jumps again at the scare, causing them both to stumble back a step, as he throws his free hand up to swat at the fake spider.

“You’re going to break it,” Nesta says with a shake of her head, grabbing Cassian’s hand and pulling him the rest of the way through the hallway.

The next room has a giant cauldron in the middle of it, dry ice rising out of it and onto the floor. Nesta already knows what’s going to happen before the teen jumps out of the cauldron with a screech. Apparently, it’s not as obvious to Cassian, a loud shout tearing from his throat and his grip on Nesta’s hand tightening. Nesta can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of her this time. Who knew she’d be spending her Friday night being the one to comfort her boyfriend through a haunted house. Last time she checked, it’s meant to be the other way around.

The room exits at a set of stairs, and they follow it down into some sort of basement. There’s no lights, just darkness blanketing them from all sides. It leaves Nesta feeling unsettled for the first time all night, and that, paired with the sound of rattling chains that starts to echo around them, has her pressing closer to Cassian. Suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw starts up, causing Nesta to jump. The door behind them flies open, casting light into the basement and on the man in overalls and a mask holding the chainsaw in front of them. Neither Nesta nor Cassian needs any further motivation, and they both scramble out the door and into the fresh night air.

“So,” Cassian starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Next time, we just order takeout and watch a Halloween movie instead, yeah?”

#my fic #acotar #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #my local haunted house also did the dark room chainsaw bit #and it truly is terrifying

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet uglies, sternclay 60 sfw? OwO

Here you go!

60 Sterncly SFW. we’re both on a reality show (like the queer bachelor) where we’re told to be friends but the first time we met, you were incredibly rude and judgmental and I don’t know if I can do this for the damn cameras

“So, Barclay, now that we’re a few days in, what’s your impression of the other contestants?”

“They, uh, they all seem like great guys. We come from a lot of different backgrounds, so that’s kind of interesting to be around but, uh, I live in a place that’s like a big, chosen family, so being in a house with a bunch of types of personalities is kinda, uh, homey.”

“There’s no one you think you’ll struggle with?”

“Uh. Well. I, uh, I don’t like Joseph too much. He came in and he’s so, like, phony from all the years in the FBI. It’s like he’s trying to be polite and charming but really he thinks we’re all idiots for being here. Which, like, buddy, last I checked you signed up for this the same as the rest of us.”

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

“Joseph, any worries about the other contestants?”

“No. I mean, we’re competitors on a dating show, not enemies. I think we’re all trying to show Vincent the best versions of ourselves.”

“There’s no one you’ve had conflicts with?”

“........I, um, Barclay and I got into a small argument earlier about the house rules. But I’m sure if we both stick around long enough we’ll come to an understanding.”

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

“Gentlemen, this cannot continue.” Ned, the producer, sits on the couch across from them. Barclay glares at Joseph, but the other man keeps a cool demeanor. Great, he’s making Barclay look like the big, angry mountain even off camera.

“I thought reality shows needed conflict to thrive.” Joseph cocks an eyebrow.

“They do, but about big things, like love and rivalry. Not how to properly load a dishwasher.”

“I’m just trying to be efficient.”

“My way is perfectly fine.” Barclay snaps, “jesus, I worked in kitchens for years, I know how to get clean plates.”

“That doesn’t make it optimal.”

“Do you have to be right about everything?”

“Gentlemen, you recall we have a housekeeping staff, right?”

“It doesn’t matter” Barclay doesn’t take his eyes off Ned, “we’re supposed to all get along, not all try and prove we’re the smartest guy in the room.”

“See, this is your problem, you need everyone to like you, to see you like a big brother, but you’re missing the fact that at least three of them have decided your gentle giant persona is a threat and they’re trying to oust you.”

“It’s not a persona, it’s just how I am. We aren’t all government shams disguised as men.”

Joseph’s facade cracks for a moment, blue eyes trying to light Barclay on fire.

“Enough.” Ned shakes his head, “you may despise each other as much as you please behind the scenes. In front of the cameras, please try to act as if you’re not ten seconds away from coming to blows. Agreed?”

They trade a final, furious look.

“Agreed.”

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

They’re a little over three weeks in; Vincent is still doing lots and lots of short, individual dates between the group outings, so the contestants have ample time to hang around the house and get on each others nerves.

Case in point: Joseph was right when he warned Barclay that others saw him as a threat. Chad, Alex, Nico, and Rich have all decided to go after him. Just this morning he’s been told he’s not man enough for Vincent (he shooed a wolf spider out of the kitchen with a broom instead of squishing it), too girly (he offered to make cupcakes if people wanted), and too big (who'd want to fuck a six foot tall puppy).

His mood is not helped by Joseph chatting away on the couch about his former job with the FBI. Barclay swears it’s all the asshole knows how to talk about. Maybe it’s time for Barclay to play a game of his own.

“Hey, Joseph.”

The other man turns, black hair perfectly slicked back like he thinks he’s some kind of movie star.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t make it until eight tonight without talking about your job.”

The other contestants in the room snicker, several even giving Barclay a thumbs up.

Joseph adjusts his shirt sleeves, “You’re on.”

Ten hours later, Barclay is forced to get his wallet. The other man never mentioned the FBI once. In fact, he did Barclay an even bigger favor; he didn’t talk at all.

He finds the agent sitting on the back steps leading into the garden. Stays standing as he holds out the cash, “you win fair and square.”

Joseph looks at the money, then looks away, “I did it to show I could, not for the bet.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to go, uh, quite so hard on the silence thing.”

“I didn’t mean to. But, um, every time I was going to open my mouth, I realized it was somehow related to work. So I kept quiet.” He sighs, stretches out his legs. He’s in slacks, because of course he is, “I must have been so tedious to listen to, no wonder I was driving you up the wall.”

“Joseph-”

“I really am married to my career. I guess it’s not surprising my last chance for love is on a T.V show.”

“Hey, I get it.” Barclay sits down next to him, “when I was first working in commercial kitchens my hours were crazy; I barely saw my apartment, my friends, my boyfriend who pretty quickly became my ex. But it was what I needed to do to build the career I wanted for myself. To do what I loved.”

Only the crickets and the distant waves reply. Then, “You said you were a private chef now, right? Along with writing cookbooks?”

“Yeah. Kinda surprised you remembered.”

“Listening is a major skill in my profession. Besides, it’s polite to pay attention to what people tell you.”

“What’s your job now? You only ever talk about the FBI stuff?”

“Paranormal investigation. I never bring it up because people assume I’m out chasing Bigfoot with a shaky-cam or trying to communicate with haunted dolls.”

“So...what is it instead?”

“Helping people figure out they’re homes aren’t haunted or the monster on their property is just some owls. I like the challenge of solving the mystery, and I like helping people feel safe in they’re homes.”

Loud voices form inside; the caterers must have refilled the bar. He doesn’t really want to go in. It’s too nice out here.

“You wanna hear about the restaurant my coworkers swore was haunted?”

Joseph perks up, turning to face him, “Yes, please.”

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

He’d been really looking forward to beach day. Six guys are already gone, and Vincent has taken his fleet of suitors to the sunny San Diego shores. Barclay is dismayed to find all but three of the other guys have waxed their chests. Joseph hasn’t, but his happy trail is nothing compared to fucking black forest on Barclays torso. Nico’s gotten half the guys to call Barclay “bigfoot.”It makes him feel like he’s back in high school P.E freshman year, and his body image is rapidly sliding into that of a shy fourteen year old.

“Barclay!” Joseph comes jogging out of the surf towards the towels they lay down side by side when they arrived, “you should come in, it’s really the perfect weather for swimming.” He drops onto his towel, black hair a bit mussed. The swim-shorts that he thought were blue with green spots turn out to have not dots, but tiny UFOs on them.

“I, uh, I’m good. I, uh, I burn easily and I don’t think anyone wants to rub sunscreen on my hairy back.”

“Hey, Bigfoot, what’s wrong? Scared of what’ll happen if the cameras get a load of your gut?”

Barclay growls, stares at his toes. Joseph tracks Nico as he finishes jogging by. Then he calmly picks up a frisbee, aims a throw, and knocks his snapback off his head. He’s sitting down before the other man can work out who threw it. Barclay chuckles, but doesn’t get up.

“Bigfoot’s my favorite cryptid.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“And who gives a shit if you have a stomach.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re cut.”

Joseph grabs his sunglasses, “because I like that for my body. I happen to like yours just as much. Um I, I mean, it seems like Vincent likes it.” He tips his head towards the Bachelor, who gives them both a long once-over.

“...Will you do my back?”

“Of course, big guy.” The nickname sounds so right on his tongue it makes Barclay want to set his head in his lap and ask him to pet it.

It’s late afternoon when Ned herds them all onto a boat which promptly steers towards some cliffs. Joseph stays close to Barclay, pleasant expression noticeably tightening the closer they get to the rocks.

“I’ve been dreading this. Cliff diving is not something I’d pick to do on my own.”

“Heights?”

He shakes his head, “Deep water. I know it’s not rational, and I even checked to be sure there hadn’t been large shark sightings in the area, but I can never shake the feeling there’s something waiting just out of sight, ready to surge up and eat me.”

They all climb up together, Vincent staying on the boat to watch them jump (this is technically a friendly competition to show off how brave they are). As they’re turns get closer, Barclay sees Joseph doing deep breathing exercises.

They hit the edge. The agent freezes.

“Shit. I don’t think I can do this.”

“C’mon, where’s my daring special agent?”

Joseph still doesn’t move.

“You, uh, you wanna jump together? Maybe the megaladon or whatever will eat me instead.”

“Megalodons are extinct; we’d know if they weren’t, same as we know Whale Sharks aren’t.”

“They you are.” Barclay murmurs, smiling.

Joseph manages a smile back, “On three?”

“Yep. One, two” he grabs Joseph’s hand “three”

The water rises to swallow them with terrifying speed, but nothing is waiting for them except one very startled fish. They surface together, Joseph laughing triumphantly, hair plaster to his head and sun shining in his ocean eyes.

If Vincent doesn’t pick him, he’s out of his mind.

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

“Ohmylord, we have to play this.” Joseph cannot believe his luck; he figured the barcade group date would mean a lot of solo time, but here’s his favorite game in the whole wide world.

“Monster Hunt?” Barclay laughs as he lets himself be lovingly shoved down into the seat of a cut-out Jeep, “very on brand.”

“They had this at the bowling alley near my house. I’d play when my parents had league night but couldn't get a sitter. I never could beat the Mothman level without a player two.”

He doesn’t have that problem tonight, even with Barclay distractingly delighted and handsome in the seat beside him. After that, they make it their mission to find every two-player game in the thrum of flashing colors and tinny music. He finds they both like the Bowser Bourbon Smash, and somewhere around their fourth, heated game of air hockey they each polish of one too many of them to stay upright without the support of a game, a helpful show staff member, or each other.

When they get back to the house (their fellow contestants all in a similar state to themselves) they manage to make it to Joseph’s room before collapsing into a giggling heap on the bed.

“That, hic, that was fun. Games are, hic, fun.” Barclay blinks at him, “what’re you laughing, hic, at.”

“You, you got the hiccups. S’funny because you’re so big, like, like watching a, a pitbull with a, um, a” he makes a squeezing motion that his sober self would recognize as “squeaky toy.”

“M’not big” Barclay pouts, “I, hic, maybe everyone else is, hic, just small. Ever think of th--hic--at.”

“S’not a bad thing.” Joseph shifts so they’re facing each other, “like how big you are. Makes you sexy.”

Barclay blushes, “you’re, hic, one to, to talk. You’re hot, so, hic, so fucking out. Got, got those eyes. That, hic, that face” He touches Joseph’s cheek, “love your face.”

“Love yours too.” Joseph says, stroking his beard. Then they’re moving in inelegant tandem, grabbing at each others shoulders and faces as their mouths find each other. Barclay is so warm, whimpering when Joseph rolls him on top, nipping his lips and pawing at him like a puppy hoping for a treat. Joseph is going to hold him close and let him have it.

A clatter from below, one of the other men knocking something over in the kitchen, breaks the spell.

“Wait, wait” Joseph reluctantly slides his hands of Barclays ass, “we, drunk, we’re drunk, too drunk.”

Barclay blinks down at him, pouting a little even as he groans “fuck, you’re, you’re right. Wanna, gotta remember this. Don’t wanna” he yawns, “regret it.” The instant he flops onto his back Joseph climbs into his arms and falls asleep to the slow rhythm of his breathing.

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

After that night, they agree to be more careful; they’re here for Vincent, to see if one of them is his true love. That’s what the contract they signed says.

“More careful” turns out to mean watching their alcohol intake around each other and only touching platonically (including falling asleep on the couch together. They wake up to cameras recording their nap. Barclay isn’t sure what Joseph threatens Ned with, but the footage never sees the light of day).

But unless they’re on a solo date with Vincent, they’re by each others side. Barclay teaches Joseph dominoes and how to make biscuits. Joseph introduces him to terrible old horror movies that they watch on his laptop and compliments his cooking every chance he gets.

They must be doing something right, because they move to the next round week after week, Vincent clearly enamored with both of them. Barclay certainly understands the feeling. Just not for the person who he’s supposed to.

“Joseph? If, uh, if neither of us win, what are you gonna do after this.”

“Go back to work. Maybe pitch my book about U.S cryptids.” Joseph’s smile goes shy for a moment before recovering, “but I wouldn’t worry, big guy; I think you’re the front runner for sure.”

Barclay knows for a fact that Joseph is a fan favorite and the suitor most people think will win. Which is why, when Vincent selects his final four, he’s not surprised Joseph gets the first rose. Then everyone but Barclay is holding one and Vincent is touching his shoulder.

“Barclay, please don’t take this as a sign I’m not deeply fond of you. This wasn’t an easy choice but I, well, I feel like your heart may not be in this anymore.”

He takes Vincent’s hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. It was wonderful just to get to know you. All of you.” He looks at the final four, at Joseph’s calm, polite expression. He meets blue eyes as he says, “I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

With that he turns, all too aware of the cameras tracking his exit, his face, how he’ll have to do a final interview and not reveal that he’ll hate Vincent forever but not blame him in the slightest if he marries Joseph.

“Wait!”

Every eye, lensed or no, turns back to the gazebo. Joseph is at the edge of the steps, poised to run. When he sees Barclay stop, he turns to Vincent.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.” He hands the bachelor the rose, “I hope you understand.”

There’s no soundtrack on set, but strings swell in his ears all the same as Joseph descends the stairs and leaps into his arms, kissing him so hard he still has stars in his eyes when he opens them.

“It’s not a marriage proposal” Joseph whispers, kissing his cheek, “but I do have a question for you.” He pulls back, all cameras on them but his attention for Barclay alone, “would you like to be my boyfriend, big guy?”

Barclay rests their foreheads together, “Yeah, babe, I really, really would.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #bachelor au #taz amnesty

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-40)

Word count: 4.8K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Fluff, angst, feels, sickness

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. You’re a Rockstar <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

No one talked to you today, the whispers though, had escalated. No one was bothering to keep it quiet either. Not just your classmates, even the faculty kept giving you looks, ranging from distrust to pity. Professor Whitman, who never cared much about anything, took a whole minute to find you in the class and give you a once over, like he was seeing you for the first time- Sam Winchester’s flighty wife, back to ruin his life again.

The judgement you could take. The pity was painful. What did they see? A girl who couldn’t appreciate a good man? Or as much as you hated to think of it that way- a girl who couldn't be a mother again.

It came as a surprise when Jody called you to her office after the class. When you followed her in, she closed the door behind and unexpectedly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Y/N,” she said. “It’s awful.”

You waited for her to let go of you then asked, “How much trouble is Sam in?”

Jody pursed her lips. “I want to say, ‘not much’ but we’ll only know on Monday, I suppose.”

“Are you part of the enquiry committee?”

She nodded. “All of the freshman faculty panel is on there. You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. Your grades are impeccable. You can’t possibly be sleeping with all of us.”

“I’m not even sleeping with Sam!” You let out, frustrated. “And I’m more worried about what happens to him.” You were a student. The most they could do is sack you from the students committee and bump down your grades. 

Jody regarded you for a moment. “The two of you are so similar. It’s uncanny.”

She sighed. “I’ll be upfront with you, Y/N. As much as I’ve tried to shake them, Sam’s priorities are set. Even absent, you were very high up on that list. With you in front of him, there are very few things Sam wouldn’t give up for you.”

You already knew that. But was it right to let him make all those sacrifices for someone as undeserving as you?

The thought plagued you after you’d left Jody’s office, just as it had plagued you for the past two days. Outside, you ran into Madison.

“Oh, I was looking for you,” she said. “Sorry, I missed the first few lectures, but I have news for you. One good, one bad.”

“Bad one first,” you said, apprehensive. 

Madison made a face. “Starting the day after tomorrow, I have no place to live.”

“What? Didn’t you have a lease for the whole year?”

“Lacey is screwing someone, who knows someone else who knows the hostel director. And, well, long story short, my lease got prematurely terminated.”

Anger flared inside you again. This was happening to Madison only because she was staunchly standing with you. 

“I want you to come house hunting with me. My brother’s agreed to help me out with the money. So, I’m good to go.”

The idea popped up in your head immediately. “Why don’t you move in with me?” 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Meg?”

“Meg’s almost moved out next door. I was supposed to put out an add for a roommate but with everything that’s going on…” Convincing Meg to continue with the move had been very difficult. She thought it was some sort of betrayal to leave you by yourself in all this mess. Cas supported her on that. However, everyone was camping in your living room anyway. 

Ultimately, you had to put your foot down and tell her to move her ass out. Your life might always remain a tragedy. It shouldn’t pause her or Cas’s life. She had still slept on your sofa last night.

“You’re serious?” Madison was trying her best to contain her excitement.

“As a heart attack.”

She let out a loud squeal and tackled you. “This is the best thing ever. We’ll be roomies!”

“Not if you call me that.”

Madison’s laughter rang out in your ears. “Now you’ve already offered. You can’t take it back, roomie.”

“Wait, what’s the good news?” 

Her face split into a huge grin. “I heard from the HR at Acton Gris. They won’t hire me as an intern. But she asked me to apply for the position of summer associate next year. She said my chances looked great.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“Yes! I’m thinking of applying for an on campus job this year.”

Madison was sincere, smart and she worked very hard. No wonder good things were in store for her. “Let me talk to Molly today. See if she has some inside intel on vacancies.”

“You’d do that?” Madison couldn’t stop beaming and you smiled right along with her. “The world is a much better place with you in it.”

Not everyone thought that. Following the pattern of the past few days, Rebecca decided to show her face again after the lecture. You had been expecting her at this point. Maybe she couldn’t sleep without venting off her frustration on you. As usual, she had Lacey next to her, who really had gone fully darkside.

“Missing your Professor?”

You saw Madison start, but Rebecca put in. “Oh, stop being her Lapdog, Maxwell. You don’t have to rollover each time she blows a whistle.”

“It’s alright, Maddie,” you said in a calm voice. “As it happens, I do miss him very much.”

“I hope at least the sex was worth it,” said Lacey.

You grinned at her. “Mind-blowing, actually. I remember this one time, I was screaming his name for literal hours. God, the things that man can do. It’s in-credi-ble.” You drew out the last word with a relish.

Lacey’s jaw dropped.

Rebecca recovered quickly. “Christ! You’re shameless. That man’s married with a son. Have you got no shame at all?”

“Weren’t you the one making out with Sam at Maddie’s birthday party in the bar restroom?” You shot back. “I remember you described the bit about feeling his abs in extreme details. He wore his wedding ring around his neck. So how are you not shameless?”

Rebecca’s face reddened in an instant. “What… how…?”

“Doesn’t feel so good when the finger is pointed at you. Right, Rebecca? When you’re the one being put on a spot and your character is being brought into question. It was okay for you to make out with a professor. Why are the rules so different for me?”

“I- I was drunk that night. And I never slept with him!”

“Don’t you dare paint him in that light. As if you were some drunk woman he took advantage of in a toilet cubicle.” You spat. “You’re so desperate that you don’t think twice about lying over something so demeaning. You didn’t touch Sam because at 2 in the night, he wasn’t even there in that bar. So shut that bullshit.”

There was a crowd gathered around you now, and she didn’t like her words coming back to bite her.

“How do you know where Sam was that night?” Rebecca questioned, clearly baffled and out of her element, but trying to salvage the situation and save face.

You rolled your eyes. “We’re having an affair, remember? Keep up, Rebecca. You filed that complaint. Also, don’t worry about his wife, really. She totally doesn’t mind.” You winked.

The murmur around you was starting to intensify. You didn’t know how long it would be before the actual story came out. Or if it ever would come out. Neither did you care. You didn’t owe an explanation to any of these people. 

Rebecca breathed out harshly, and spoke through her teeth, contempt dripping in each word. “You’re disgusting. That child of his-”

“Don’t. Don’t utter a word about that boy,” you hissed, the anger finally burning through. “You’ve done enough harm to Sam’s reputation. But I swear to God, Rebecca, you’ll live to regret it if you so much as dare to think about Max, you deplorable excuse of a living thing.”

The warning was so raw, she flinched back from you as you stormed out. 

Madison did not follow you to the library. She knew when you wanted to be left alone. Attacking Sam was one thing, but you really did want to rip Rebecca’s throat for wanting to bring Max in the middle of it. The fierce protectiveness you felt for him was like nothing else you had experienced before. 

Throughout the following hour, you kept glancing at the door of the library, expecting Max to walk in. Sam had said he would visit. 

Maybe you would ask him to read out to you today. If anything, that could fix your mood.

“Umm… Y/N?”

You looked up to see Molly standing over you. 

“Hey. I didn’t see you there.”

She shuffled from one foot to the other looking at you awkwardly.

You squared your shoulders, realising what she might’ve heard. “Anything you want?”

“I- I wanted to say sorry.”

That brought you up short. “Why?”

Molly ran her fingers through her red hair. “I didn’t know you were… you know… Sam’s wife, and I said horrible stuff to you the other day.”

It hadn’t actually been that horrible. 

“I’d heard the rumours but I swear I didn’t believe a word. Then I ran into Chase Lincoln yesterday. He told me.”

“Everything?”

Molly nodded sadly. “It was wrong of me to make assumptions, Y/N. What happened in Sam’s life was none of my business. And for the reason you left to be so horrifying? I could have never imagined. I’m really, really sorry. I don’t know how to apologize.”

“Stop saying sorry,” you said at once. “I know you’ve always meant well for Sam and for me, Molly. Everyone likes to gossip. It’s no big deal. You didn’t hurt or offend me.”

“There must be something I can do, novia.”

“Never bring it up again. Please. Let’s just forget that conversation happened.”

You saw her eyes start to fill up. “Take the rest of the week off, yeah? Come back Monday.”

“You’re low on staff already.” You did not want anyone’s sympathy.

“I’m not doing this for you,” she said. “Spend the weekend with Sam. He’ll need a distraction more than ever before that hearing on Monday. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Molly disappeared into the librarian’s room before the waterworks started. She didn’t want you to see her tear up so you didn’t follow her in, continuing with your sideways glances at the door. The sharp ring of your phone made you jump.

“Hello?” You answered the unknown number

“Y/N? It’s Alex. Sam left me your number in case of emergencies.” She sounded frantic.

“Is everything okay?” 

“Can you please come over? Max is really sick and… he’s… he’s asking for you.”

*****

Instead of knocking on the door, you straight up punched the security key and barged into the house.

“Max? Alex?”

“Up here!” You heard Alex’s voice. Taking two steps at a time you made it to Max’s room. Your chest contracted, seeing Max in the bed. He was curled up on his side, cheeks wet, face puffy from crying. 

Alex was sitting on a chair next to him, distressed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, rushing to Max’s side and placing a hand against his forehead. He was burning up.

“I don’t know,” said Alex, “He was fine when I picked him up from school. He said he was feeling sick half an hour ago and now he’s running a fever. I tried calling his usual doctor but it says the number doesn’t exist anymore. He’s been crying and calling out for Sam and... you.”

“Did you try Sam?”

“He’s not reachable.”

“Max, honey, what’s wrong?” You asked as gently as you could. “Do you hurt somewhere?”

He opened his eyes and your heart lurched at the tears in them. “Stomach. My stomach hurts. I want dad.”

“Sam will be home at night. He’ll be with you.” You turned to Alex. “Is he allergic to something?” 

“Not that I know of.”

You were sure he hadn’t had outside food in at least a week, so food poisoning was out.

“Does your body hurt, baby?”

Max nodded slowly, drawing into himself. “And my head.”

“Alex, could you please find the first aid box and get me a thermometer?”

She scampered off to find it, relieved to have someone else take charge of the situation. Keeping one hand on Max’s forehead, you reached out for your purse with the other and pulled out your phone. Thankfully, the number was on the speed dial. He picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Cas, where are you?”

“At the hospital. Everything okay?”

“No. Max is running a high fever. I’d guess around 101. He says he’s feeling sick, and has stomach and body ache.”

There was a pause, then Cas said. “Can you drive him to the hospital? Bring him directly to the paeds ward on the 7th floor. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”

Alex was back with the thermometer. 102.3. Thankfully, she had a license and Claire’s car was in their driveway. You asked her to bring it out front.

After she left, you gently coaxed Max into a sitting position, he looked drowsy and was still sniffling a little. “Honey, listen to me. You’re going to have to deal with a little inconvenience, okay? We’re going to drive you to the hospital very quickly.”

“Hospital?” He mumbled. eyes filling up again. 

“It’s just Cas there,” you soothed him. “You remember Cas, right? We all played jenga together.”

Max opened his mouth to say something, instead his eyes widened and threw up over the front of your sweater and into your lap. 

He started crying immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled up. “It’s okay, baby. It’s no big deal.” You removed the puke covered sweater and used to wipe away the vomit stuck to your jeans. “See, it’s all gone. No need to worry at all.”

The retching had left him weak and shivering. 

“Just stay put a minute.” You hurriedly tossed your sweater in the hamper by the door, and pulled on one of Sam’s overlarge shirts over your T-shirt. Once back, you grabbed Max’s grey blanket and wrapped it around him. Slinging your purse around your torso, you lifted him in your arms and carried into the car that was already waiting at the curb. You held Max close to your chest in the backseat, whispering soft reassurances in his ears. 

Just as Alex pulled up in front of the hospital, Max threw up on you again. It made him cry harder. You realised it was not just humiliating for him, he was missing his dad terribly. 

“Max, honey, it’s totally okay,” you assured him, kissing his brow. “I used to throw up so much as a kid, gran used to call me projectile Y/N. Just puke all around me all the time. Hell, ask your dad. He held my hair when I threw up in the toilet. It’s my jam. And we’ve got a  towel now. Let’s clean you up, okay?”

Thankfully, the blanket wasn’t soiled, so you could keep it around him as you carried him in the lift.

Cas was waiting for you there. He immediately guided you to a bed and laid Max down on it. You started to step back.

“Y/N, don’t go,” Max rasped out. 

“I’m right here, Chirp. I’m not going anywhere, but Cas needs to take a look at you.”

Max still reached out with his hand. You looked at Cas. He gave you a quick nod and you rushed to Max’s side once more, grasping his outstretched fingers tightly. Cas pressed Max’s tummy, asking where exactly it hurt, then checked the temperature again along with the pulse. You watched apprehensively as Cas pulled down Max’s eyelids and asked more questions. Meanwhile, the chills kept getting worse.

“It looks like he’s caught a viral fever. The nurse outside told me it’s been doing a round at the school. We’ve had many kids this week.”

“Why is he throwing up then?”

“It’s probably the phlegm. I don’t think there’s a reason to worry. I’ll give him an IV with paracetamol and nausea suppressants. He’ll feel much better in a few hours.” Cas hesitated. “Maybe you should ask Sam before we start the treatment. Only he can sign off on the papers. You’ll need the details of the health insurance.”

“I can’t get to him. We’ve been trying non-stop.” 

Would Sam want you to make such decisions on his behalf? Max was looking paler than usual and was clearly in pain. You couldn’t wait till midnight to start him on medication. It was killing you to see him hurting like this.

“Screw the insurance. I’ll pay whatever the bill comes out to be… and I’ll sign off on the papers as well.”

Cas gave you an apprehensive look. “Y/N?”

“Look,” you said through your teeth, “I’m still his legal guardian. I have that right. Just start him on the medication. I can’t bear to see him like this.”

“Alright.” Cas said something to the nurse behind him who rushed out and then came back with a syringe. 

“This is going to hurt just a little, Max,” Cas said, flicking at the needle.

You crouched down next to Max’s head. “You’re my brave boy, aren’t you? One little prick and that will be all. You’ll feel so much better afterwards. Can you do that?” 

Max gave you one quick jerk of his neck. “Close your eyes.” He did. 

Cas pushed the needle into the tiny crease of Max’s arm and you flinched, tears pouring down your cheeks. Max did not even make a whimper. The nurse stuck a piece of white tape over the puncture mark after Cas was done.

“You need to swallow these two little tablets,” Cas said, handing them to Max along with a glass of water. Max looked at you and you nodded encouragingly. Without any fuss, he did as Cas said. You hugged Max very tightly to your chest. “You’re the bravest little thing in this world, you know that? And I’m so damn proud of you. You get every cookie you can think of when you feel better, yeah?”

“We’ll keep him here till the nausea subsides,” said Cas. “Once he feels better, you can take him home.”

Cas seemed concerned, but it wasn’t directed at Max- which made you feel better. It was directed at you. “You better sign off on those papers, Y/N.”

“Can you please bring them here?” You pleaded. “I don’t want to leave Max.” The boy in question was still hugging your middle tightly.

“Of course.”

It was with shivering hands that you filled out the form. You stared at the paper for a whole minute before ticking off on the small box in the relationship to the patient column against mother. Max had fallen asleep in your arms and the tears just wouldn’t stop. You knew he was going to be okay, the fever was already coming down and he had stopped shivering. Sweat dewed up on his forehead. 

Occasionally you wiped it off with the back of your sleeve. 

But you were terrified of this feeling- like the world would go dark if a single wrong thing happened to this boy. There was a point in your life when you were ready to own up to this feeling, looking forward to it even- and then you had lost it, along with every other emotion in your heart. Since the day you had met Max, you’d been dancing along the edge of the precipice of this very feeling- this selfless, immense love. Not ready to take the leap. Scared that you’d be shattered if you did.

Were you scared of being a bad mother? Or were you simply scared of being a mother? 

As you sat there, alone, in the small clinical room, with Max softly snoring in your lap, you realised that what you truly feared above and beyond everything was giving in to feeling this love and losing it again. 

If you accepted him as your son, and then something happened to him, you wouldn’t make it out of it alive. Literally. Not accepting Sam’s love and a place in his and Max’s life was not only a product of your doubts and self-hatred. It was a plain survival instinct. The epiphany was so strong, it left you breathless.

You felt a hand against your shoulder. Cas’s blue eyes were sympathetic in their depth. “You can take him home now, Y/N.” He didn’t try to reassure you beyond it. He had a subtle way of comforting without saying the words out loud.

You called Alex again, who had been reading in the waiting room and she drove you back to Max’s place. He’d been asleep through the ride, right until you put him to bed. Insisting that Alex go back home and study for her exams, you stripped down to your tank top, pulled on a pair of Sam’s tracks. After making sure that Max was still out, you cleaned up your clothes, and the mess on the floor and side of Max’s bed. You didn’t dare close the door of the bathroom, lest Max call out to you and you couldn’t answer. 

Taking the chance, you made some chicken soup for him, and only then did you wake him up, gently. 

Max called out for Sam the moment he opened his eyes and your heart broke again. Doing your best to reassure him that Sam was on his way, you cajoled Max into changing out of his dirty clothes and into fresh ones. 

He refused to eat the soup, but with soft insistence, you persuaded him to finish half a bowl of it. 

“You’ll read to me?” He said in a muted, dull voice as you tucked him back in the bed.

“Of course, sweetheart, what do you want me to read?”

“Anything.”

You looked around the room, your eyes landing on the only book over his nightstand. 

“Alright, here we go.” You flipped to the page with a bookmark. “We could not wait for Atticus to come home for dinner, but called and said we had a big surprise for him. He seemed surprised when he saw most of the back yard in the front yard, but he said we had done a jim-dandy job. “I didn’t know how you were going to do it,” he said to Jem, “but from now on I’ll never worry about what’ll become of you, son, you’ll always have an idea...”

*********

It was stupid and incredibly irresponsible on Sam’s part to let his phone drain out completely. Even worse, he’d left it to charge in the meeting room and forgotten to check it in the next couple of hours while he met with the children in the boy’s home. He came back to 17 missed calls and 23 text messages- from Alex and Y/N. 

Max was sick and he’d had no idea.

Sam had frantically called first thing after going through the texts. Y/N had picked up only to whisper that Max was better and asleep, and that Sam needn’t worry. For the next five hours, Sam worried ceaselessly anyway. It drove Chase up the wall, but he played his music loudly in the car all the way till Sam dropped him off and didn’t point out how Sam was a total maniac. 

The clock on his dashboard blinked 1:22 as he made the bend to his house.

Sam parked the car all wrong in the driveway, barely giving it a second thought before running inside. He should’ve been quieter, knowing Max was asleep, but the anxiety barely kept his legs moving. He would have continued at the same rate through Max’s door if the scene before him hadn’t made him stop.

On the bed, Max was sleeping peacefully. He was dressed in a thin cotton t-shirt, the lower half of his body was covered in his blanket. That wasn’t what made Sam stop. Y/N was curled up beside him, her arm thrown around Max, who was nextled so comfortably in her embrace that he belonged there. Max’s book was balanced over Y/N’s hip, wedged open on the page she had been reading out of. On the nightstand, stood a bowl of cold soup, half empty, along with water and strips of medicine. The table on Y/N’s side held a cooking pot filled with water and a washcloth lay dipped in it. She’d been nursing him- from fever or the sweat, Sam couldn’t say.

Slowly, he walked up to Max, and very very carefully placed the back of his hand on his forehead. No fever. 

Sam looked about himself. The floor was strewn with Max’s clothes that smelled like he had been sick over them. Sam picked up the clothes and carried them to the washing machine. Inside was already a dry load of clothes that belonged to Y/N and him. So Max had thrown up on her. More than once.

Sam knew from the messages that Y/N had taken Max to the hospital- had her friend, whom she trusted implicitly take a look at his son, signed the papers as his guardian and paid the bill out of her pocket.

The thought occurred to Sam as he undressed for the night. In that last message, Y/N had apologised for signing off on Sam’s behalf, as if he could ever be mad at her for dropping whatever she was doing to look after his son, the way a mother would.

Sam understood now why Max had thrown a fit when Sam had forbidden him from seeing Y/N. It had hurt Sam that he couldn’t be enough for Max, that Max was looking for something more in Y/N. But seeing them together now, Sam could see he had been completely wrong. Max wasn’t asking something more, he’d been asking for what already belonged to him- Y/N’s love. Max had been right all along.

Sam pulled the covers and duvet off his bed and dragged to Max’s room where he laid them out at the foot of Max’s bed, so he’d be sleeping next to him on the floor. An alarm started going off on Y/N’s phone, and Sam jumped to turn it off. It was already 2 O’ clock. She had set successive alarms for every hour of the night, Sam presumed to check on Max. Sam turned off all of them. He was home now, he could take care of it. 

He checked Max’s temperature once more- still normal- and then bent down to place a kiss on his forehead. It was almost November. Max always had bouts of viral or flu in the cold months. He should have foreseen it. If Y/N hadn’t been around…

The expression on her face was so peaceful as she held onto his boy, tears sprang into Sam’s eyes. This was everything he wanted in his life. Everything. Right in front of him. He bent down once more and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She didn’t wake at his touch, but adjusted herself closer to Max on the tiny bed, the book falling off her hip with a soft thud onto the thick carpet. 

Sam lay down on the floor, thinking of a night very long ago when Y/N had fallen asleep on the  sofa in his house, back in Lawrence. He’d read to her from this very book that night- for the first time. Sam had slept besides her on the floor that night as well. A writer would have called the parallel poetic… but Sam saw it for what it was, shrouded in a mist of uncertainty all around him- a haunting ache inside his soul.

He couldn’t thank her for what she’d done for his Max today- not only would that gesture be insufficient, it would be insulting. No, Sam wouldn’t thank her. Instead, he would check up on Max every hour, make her breakfast in bed, and iron her clothes before she woke up, so she wouldn't be late for classes tomorrow. He would pack her a lunch and kiss her goodbye at the door. Maybe she would see through him and understand how incredibly grateful he was for today… and how tragically hopeful he was for the future, when he could do these simple things everyday without the excuse of an unsaid thank you.

“I love you, Darling,” he whispered. “It can only ever be you.”

*****************************

A/N 2: It’s been a hard, awful few days. I must be made up of stronger stuff than I thought I was.

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated. 

Five more chapters to go!

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[aimmyarrowshigh]

Dark Greetings this Spooky Season Ms. V. Can we get a list of your favorite Halloween movies and specials? I know you have seen *everything* and I am trying to go beyond my usual rewatches this holiday month.

V. AIMMYARROWSHIGH’S CRITERIA FOR HALLOWEEN EPISODES

Does the Halloween element combine convincingly with the usual universe of the show (ex: Lizzie McGuire 2x09 “Those Freaky McGuires” is not good as a Halloween episode because it changes the rules of the Lizzie McGuire universe, whereas Community 2x06 “Epidemiology” is a GREAT Halloween episode because it manages to logically introduce zombies to the regular Community universe)?

Does the Halloween element advance the plot of the episode/series (ex: the reason Boy Meets World 5x17 “And Then There Was Shawn” is literally the best Halloween episode ever made is that it uses the horror movie tropes it satirizes to provide a CRUCIAL turning-point to the plot of the show)?

Is the Halloween episode in the forefront enough that it’s clearly a holiday episode (ex: HAVING ONE JACK-O’LANTERN ON A DESK DOES NOT A HALLOWEEN SPECIAL MAKE, LAW & ORDER 16x03 “GHOSTS”! You gotta go ALL-IN, like Bob’s Burgers 3x02 “Full Bars”!)?

Does the Halloween theme balance well between spooky and warm-n-fuzzy (ex: Criminal Minds 11x21 “Mr. Scratch” is too fucking bleak, but Criminal Minds 12x06 “Elliott’s Pond” has a joyous/celebratory tone to the ending despite being a genuinely scary episode)?

Is it generally a well-written, acted, and designed episode of television (ex: Saved by the Bell! 3x26 “Mystery Weekend” is seriously, not exaggerating, the worst thing I’ve ever watched in my life; Psych 1x15 “Scary Sherry, Or Bianca’s Toast” is a triumph of the medium)?

THE BEST, bar none, Halloween special ever made is Boy Meets World 5x17, “And Then There Was Shawn.” Period. There can be no argument, except MAYBE Community 3x06, “Epidemiology,” but I like “And Then There Was Shawn” better because the parody and homage as less… biting? And because I think it continues and addresses the emotional core of the regular BMW season better than “Epidemiology” does for Community s3. “Epi” DOES plant the seed (…heh) for the Season 3B major plot arc of Shirley’s pregnancy and Chang Deciding To Murder, but it gets some major minus points for mocking Yvette Nicole Brown’s weight with other characters’ responses to her costume, tbh. And “And Then There Was Shawn” is just fucking iconic. It is THE Halloween episode manual, IMO, if there were to be a textbook on how to write a perfect Halloween episode for your sitcom.

HOWEVER, I also have to give major props to Bob’s Burgers and Psych, as complete series, for their CONSISTENTLY excellent Halloween episodes. A lot of series that have multiple Halloween eps really phone it in after one or two, because they don’t have any more ideas for how to incorporate Halloween pastiches while maintaining the overall feeling of the series (tbh B99, while the Halloween Heists are excellent in general, is/has been coming very close to this line, and I think that if they HADN’T had to switch out the Heist to Cinco de Mayo in s6, they would have jumped their Heist Shark [and I think they know it, too, because it was lampshaded in the episode itself]) or they just straight-up don’t have any more ideas for what or how to have the characters they’re bound to parody or pay homage to a Halloween thing after they’ve already done one or two. And let’s be real: those one or two have probably been either The Shining or Rear Window, because those are pretty much the two that every show starts with.

Bob’s manages to make every Halloween episode feel very fresh and organic to the series, which I think they do have some leeway to do because of the nature of cartoons keeping the Belchers living a kind of loop of never aging, yk, but amazingly they’ve only done the “Tina feels too old to trick or treat, maybe? Nope, she’s not 14 yet, so there’s still time!” thing in a way that felt tropey once (in 3x02 Full Bars). They’ve been able to address Tina being 13/in 8th grade, and worrying about it being almost too late for her to keep trick or treating, in ways that were in-character and added to the overall episode in 4x02 Fort Night, 5x02 Tina and the Real Ghost, and 9x04 Nightmare on Ocean Avenue Street, without me rolling my eyes at the screen and going “TINA, EVERY SINGLE SHOW WITH A TWEEN IN IT HAS ALREADY DECIDED THAT THE AGE AT WHICH YOU MUST STOP TRICK OR TREATING IS FRESHMAN YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL, COME ON NOW” which… at this point, is a Feat. Because like, I’ve POSTED over a thousand Halloween episodes, right? But I’ve watched and screencapped ::checks folder:: 3,905 Halloween episodes since 2014. Which is, um, a. lot. The ACTUAL BEST Bob’s Burgers Halloween episode is 6x03, “The Hauntening,” which is just… achingly perfect television. I know I’ve posted about it before (probably a couple times tbh) but the way that it aired originally back-to-back with The Simpsons 27x04, “Halloween of Horror,” so that the evening of Sunday cartoons juxtaposed eight-year-old Louise whose family worked so hard to scare her like she wanted with nine-year-old Lisa’s family working so hard to keep her from being too scared and make sure that she felt safe… reader, I FUCKIN CRIED. Little girls being deeply loved while also Spoopy Things!!!!!! IS WHAT HALLOWEEN SPECIALS ARE!!! FUCKIN!!!!!! ABOUT!!!!!!!

Psych, though, has the benefit of not really having any, like… central tone to the series? Beyond “friendship” and “having fun with joking,” tbh? So it’s able to do what a lot of series get docked “points” for in my Foolproof Halloween Special Ratings System That Is Completely Subjective To My Tastes And Mood, which is really just run full-tilt into parody and homage without really worrying about overall tonal connection to the rest of the season or series. 1x15, “Scary Sherry, or, Bianca’s Toast,” while it DOES fall victim to the way-too-common Halloween episode trap of making mental hospitals into a Scary Thing (they are a medical normality and a necessary thing for health for many people and should not be feared), is delightful Spooky Fun AND has the benefit of having Shannon Woodward in it.* We all know by now that if an episode of any show has Shannon Woodward as the guest star, it will by default end up being one of the best, if not THE best, episodes of that series. It’s just how having Shannon Woodward as your guest star rolls. I also really like, with Psych’s Halloween episodes, that quite a few of them understand the underlying thematic scope of Horror, which is “The Monstrous Feminine Is A Thing And All Horror Tropes Are Actually About Women’s Interior Lives Because Men Can’t Write Women And Fear Women Always,” yk, in a way that is neither TOO Actual Horror, which I am too afraid of to Do, or too trite and demeaning, which is the other basic trap that Halloween stuff falls into A Lot. Like, Scary Sherry is very much about women villainizing other women, avenging other women, and being in very specifically-female pain, even though Shawn & Gus are still the lens through which we solve the mystery, and so are 4x04 The Devil Is In The Details And The Upstairs Bedroom and 6x03 This Episode Sucks. But they give their Monstrous Females dignity and breadth, which is impressive, ESPECIALLY since they’re one-off guest characters. Also, 3x15 Tuesday the 17th is just plain funny and well-done, like, just give it props for the title alone.

*(Speaking of Shannon Woodward, another amazingly good Halloween episode is Raising Hope 4x07, “Murder, She Hoped,” which is among my very favorite Rear Window homage episodes and has probably the funniest gag in ANY Rear Window ep, in Martha Plimpton floating across the screen in the Grace Kelly silk nightgown and peignoir and announcing that it was on sale at Walmart, can you believe?! and honestly, yes. Perfection.)

Also excellent:

• The Addams Family (1991) + Addams Family Values (1993) • Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School (RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU WERE GAY FOR SIBELLA AS A CHILD!) • Scooby-Doo and the Witch's Ghost (RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU'RE GAY BECAUSE THE HEX GIRLS!) • Halloweentown + Halloweentown II: Kalabar's Revenge • Mom's Got a Date with a Vampire! • Z•O•M•B•I•E•S (to a lesser extent, Z•O•M•B•I•E•S 2) • Clue (1985) • Coraline • Corpse Bride • 6teen 2x00 Dude of the Dead • Arthur 21x00 Arthur and the Haunted Treehouse • Lamb-Chop in the Haunted Studio • Arthur 8x04A Fern-kenstein's Monster • Arthur 10x02 The Squirrels • WandaVision 1x06 The All-New Halloween Spooktacular (I KNOW YOU, SPECIFICALLY, DEAR @plavoptice, HATE MCU!WANDA AND I DON'T BLAME YOU, YOUR REASONS ARE VERY VALID! But this is a good Halloween special so I'm putting it on my list In General.) • Boy Meets World 2x06 Who's Afraid of Cory Wolf? • Ghostbusters (2016) • Gravity Falls 1x12 Summerween • Leverage 4x02 Ten L'il Grifters Job • The Loud House 2x40 Tricked! • Mockingbird Lane 1x00 Unaired Pilot • It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (Classic, etc.)

I'm SURE I'm forgetting some that I'll rewatch this year myself. I'm a big Halloween Baking Championship fan, tbh, which is on Discovery+ now so I recommend that if you like mostly-relaxing nice people baking cakes that look like bats and such.

I'm also IMMENSELY INTENSELY EXCITED for The Muppets' Haunted Mansion on Disney+ next week!!!

#halloween #**halloween

[delos-mio]

Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 2

A/N: Part 2! I hope you enjoy this chapter. No major warnings apply! Thoughts, feelings, predictions always welcome <3

***

After dropping you off that evening, Nikolai found his mind to be running a mile a minute. It was 1am, relatively early by college standards, but he had no desire to go back to the party and no desire to go home. Instead, he walked around campus until his feet throbbed. He thought about your smile and your laugh, the way you bit your lip and the way you toyed with the ends of your hair. He thought about how you could very well be in the arms of another man right now.

He could have lived without that mental image.

It seemed wild to him that you could make so many feelings flood back to him in such a short amount of time. It hit him like a ton of bricks the moment you locked eyes, and it was instantly like the last 5 years of silence never even happened. God, he wished they never happened. How could he have been so cruel? Who just up and left the person they were very clearly falling in love without a trace? Nikolai, that’s who. And under the penetrating glow of the moon, for the next six or so hours, Nikolai hated himself for it.

Nikolai quietly tried to sneak back into the apartment he shared with Aleks around 7am. Generally, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, so he figured it’d be no problem. As the front door clicked shut behind him, another door clicked open inside the apartment. Alina, clad in only one of Aleks’s shirts, exited his room and immediately jumped upon seeing Nikolai. He quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the ceiling, trying to look anywhere but at the half-naked girl before him.

“So, I take it he wasn’t too upset I left the party early?” he asked before she blushed and quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom.

Nikolai pushed his hair back from his face and shook his head. Of course Aleks had company. He made his way to his room and let the back of his knees hit the mattress, flopping onto his back. His eyes fluttered shut as he mulled over the events of the evening. He knew he needed to turn his brain off and actually try to get some sleep, but that was still proving to be rather difficult. As he was getting lost in his own thoughts, he was interrupted by his door being flung open and Aleks leaning in his door frame.

“Do you mind? I’m really tired,” Nikolai grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

“You dog! You got home later than me,” he said with a smile evident in his voice.

“It’s not like that. You’ll notice I didn’t bring anyone home with me, now did I?” Nikolai was starting to get irritated by his roommate’s presence and hoped he’d leave him in peace and quiet sooner rather than later.

“Maybe not. But you could have. Seemed like you and Genya’s new roommate had something going on,” he pried.

“Can you fuck off? Respectfully?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you sleep. But you’re gonna tell me about her when you wake up.” With that, Nikolai heard his door shut again, leaving him in the stillness of his room. He fell asleep half hanging off the bed where he landed with the girl who got away on his mind.

----

When you woke up the next morning, Nikolai was still fresh on your mind. The way he smiled, the way he smelled…everything about him haunted your dreams. It didn’t even take a full minute before the guilt settled in. Jesus Christ, what were you thinking? Did Matt cease to exist because your first love cropped up out of nowhere? You just started flirting with Nikolai again like it was as easy as breathing. But you couldn’t help yourself—Nikolai had worked his way into your head instantly just like he had when you were 17. Like the first time you saw him take off his helmet, shake out his perfect, golden hair, and skate to the bench. It had been a wrap since that moment. You groaned into your pillow, feeling a little nauseous and a lot guilty. After freshening up and pulling a sweatshirt on, you wandered out into the living room of your apartment with Genya where she was eagerly chatting with Zoya over a cup of coffee.

“Fancy seeing you here, ditcher,” Genya teased as you grabbed a mug for yourself.

“I didn’t ditch,” you said. “Nik told you guys we were leaving.”

“Where’d you end up anyways?” Genya asked with a tiny smirk. This line of questioning amused Zoya and she gladly joined in on the antagonizing.

“I can only assume, knowing him, that you ended up somewhere more...private,” Zoya interjected.

“It wasn’t like that. I um, we ended up just going to get some food. Catch up or whatever,” you said while you shot daggers at Genya. You paused to take a sip of the too-hot drink before continuing. “Where have you been hiding Nikolai anyways?”

“He ain’t hiding- have you met the dude? I met him during Freshman orientation. Zoya and I lived in the dorm room next to him and Aleks,” she said as a matter of fact. “We’ve been hanging out ever since. Real good guy.”

“I know,” you sighed, pushing around a pen that was left on the coffee table.

“You like him! Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about him being totally your type. You and your pretty boys. Mhmm, I bet he liked you too,” Genya teased and smiled again.

“No, he’s just an old friend,” you lied. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Could have fooled me,” Zoya mumbled, but you caught it. The comment did nothing to ease the growing knot in your stomach.

“Seriously. He’s my friend. I kinda got carried away with the flirting last night, but I was so excited to see him, you know?” You looked at them both, silently pleading with them to let it drop. “We’re just friends. Nothing else.”

“That may be true now, but the dude has it bad for you. I saw the way he looked at you, dude,” Genya said softly, finally sympathetic to your anguish. “Can I ask how you know each other? Besides ‘high school or something’?”

“We didn’t even go to school together.” You leaned back into the cushions, letting your focus drift away from the girls across from you. “My parents own an ice rink in my hometown and I’d work the concession stand when I got out of school- do my homework and pour hot chocolate or whatever. Nik played hockey with his high school team there.” You smiled to yourself. “I saw him come off the ice one day and thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. And one night, he walked right up to me after practice and started talking to me like we’d known each other forever. I didn’t have a ton of friends in school and hadn’t really been noticed by boys like...ever. So to have this super hot dude flirting with me was wild.”

“Oh my god, was Nik your first crush?” Genya squealed.

“I’d had a couple guys that caught my eye before him, but he was the first guy I really liked. First guy I kissed. First guy I…” you trailed off, letting the pause speak for itself.

“No wonder he was so happy to see you,” Zoya said.

“He kinda ghosted me when he left for college and I hadn’t talked to him since the last night we were together. I was too scared to try and find him on Facebook or anything. I didn’t want to see him with other girls hanging all over him and hurt my own feelings, you know?” Genya and Zoya exchanged a sympathetic look. “Anyways, that’s about it. Pretty boring stuff.”

“Babe…”

“I gotta start getting ready for work,” you said, abruptly standing and putting your mug in the sink. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, you shuffled out of the room, hoping neither of them caught the hitch in your voice. So, maybe you weren’t as over that ghosting as you thought you were.

----

The weekend passed with a lot of idle time thinking about when you could possibly see Nikolai again. You were really regretting not scrawling your number somewhere for him. It was torture not knowing how to find him again outside of groveling to Genya, or hoping dumb luck would make you run into him.

You made it to Monday morning and somehow managed to make it to your 8:30 am class on time; a rare feat for you. Thankfully, the class was all engaged in a lively discussion of what constituted a modern classic novel, so it was easy to stay alert and engaged. Before you knew it, your professor was dismissing you and reminding you all about the paper that was due on Thursday. You shuffled down the stairs of the academic building and paused once you got to the quad. Normally, you’d head home for a few hours before your afternoon class, but you had a little time to spare today before your study group. But you also had Nikolai’s face burned in your mind. Would it be totally weird to try to find him?

The building that housed Science and History was only a quarter mile from your classroom, so you made quick work of the walk and tried to hype yourself up, telling yourself that it was normal to want to see him this bad- you’d missed out on a few years there! Of course you wanted to see your friend. When you got inside, you realized you had no idea where you were going. You had yet to take any sort of History class while at school and had absolutely no idea if he was even in class at this time. God, this was seeming like a dumber and dumber idea the more you walked around. After wandering aimlessly for a minute, you saw a familiar head of effortlessly messy golden hair slink out of a classroom.

Immediately, your eye was drawn to him. You were thankful he didn’t notice your presence because you were definitely staring. All weekend, you were sure you had a picture-perfect vision of him in your head, but you were abruptly reminded that he was much more handsome than you could dream up. He had traded in his button down shirt from the other night for a cozy looking grey sweater. You allowed yourself one more moment to admire him from afar before you approached. But Nikolai had turned to face you straight on, face lighting up the moment he saw you.

“I was wondering when you’d come around.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“So, you don’t think I’m crazy for wandering around a building I’ve literally never set foot in, hoping by cosmic timing you’d be here?” you smirked.

“I promise you, I don’t think you’re crazy. I mean, I was considering doing something quite similar myself,” You couldn’t stop the heat that started to rise in your cheeks.

“So, where are you headed now?” you asked, rocking on your heels.

“Well,” he pondered, “I was going to meet Aleks at The Moose if you’re walking that way.”

“I’m not, but I have a couple minutes before I have to be at my study group if you want to sit outside,” you offered.

“Of course, darling,” he grinned, hazel eyes playful as you found a bench next to the bike rack. “How was your weekend?”

“Not bad,” you shrugged. “I had to work both days, but it was pretty slow, so no complaints. I only got grilled by Genya and Zoya a little. It could have been a lot worse,” you smiled.

“They do love any information they can get their little hands on,” Nikolai said, leaning back into the bench. “You...didn’t see Matt at all?” he probed, trying with all his might to look and sound nonchalant, but failing.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not take an interest in you?” he asked with gentle eyes, but you just glowered.

“No. I didn’t see Matt this weekend. We haven’t even talked since Friday, honestly,” you said. Nikolai didn’t interject at all, just looked at you to go on, if you felt like sharing. “We haven’t really been getting along lately. He’s a nice guy and all, but I don’t know how much we have in common. And he never seems to have time for me unless it’s on his terms. Like, he expects me to be available whenever it works for him, but he’s always conveniently busy if I ask him to do anything with me.” You kicked at a rock near your toe, eyes fixed on the ground, totally unsure why you just told Nikolai all that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “I’m saying this as your friend,” he started, making you look in his eyes again. “You deserve someone who understands what a gift it is to spend time with you.” It was so simple, but it made tears instantly spring in your eyes. “Hey. Hey, now. None of that,” he smiled, thumbing a tear away. “Would you maybe want to come over Friday? Get pizza and watch a movie or something?”

“That sounds really nice, Nik,” you nodded. It was then he broke into a blinding smile and you were unable to stop the swirling in your belly.

“Could I—would I be able to get your number? So I can send you my address or whatever,” he added quickly; you were really starting to love seeing him get flustered.

“I think that’s a good idea, yeah.” You reached for some scrap paper and pencil from your bag and scribbled down your number, placing it in the palm of his large hands before standing up. His fingers just barely brushed yours as he took the paper before stowing it away in the front pocket of his jeans. “You can always use that number before Friday too, if you want,” you said with a sly smile and patted Nikolai’s cheek gently. His laugh carried a bit as you walked opposite directions out of the quad, your feet feeling like they were being carried by tiny, pink fluffy clouds.

Fuck. Did you just set up a date with Nikolai? No. No, not a date. Just two friends eating pizza and watching movies. Friends did that all the time.

But as you walked to the cafe where your study group met, there was a crashing wave of guilt that washed over you. What the fuck were thinking? All you were doing was playing with fire, practically begging fate to burn you. You were mentally beating yourself up, feeling like a total shit bag as you pushed open the door to the small cafe, seeing your group already gathered and breaking off into pairs, Matt beaming at you when you came into view.

“Hi, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek as you sat down next to him.

“Hey,” you smiled back with tight lips, hardly able to look at him.

You started going through notes for an upcoming Logic and Reasoning exam, but you found yourself unable to process anything you were reading. Your mind was elsewhere and you only managed half-hearted affirmations and hardly contributed any correct answers. Here Matt was, sweet and excited to see you. He was good, he was nice. Maybe you just needed to make more of an effort with him. Should he really want to do the things you wanted to do, or were you being selfish? You weren’t sure.

“Something wrong?” he asked suddenly, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Just don’t feel good, that’s all,” you shrugged, looking back at your notebook and computer. He accepted that answer and didn’t probe any further.

“So, you should come over Friday. I don’t have anyone else to hang out with and thought we could hang out,” he said into your ear, hand gripping your thigh.

“Can’t,” you said with a shake of your head. “I already have plans.”

“Oh there’s a surprise,” he said, half under his breath. And that...that was it. You immediately slammed your pen onto the table and looked at him with hard eyes.

“Would you just say whatever you’re trying to fucking say?” you seethed.

“Just seems awfully convenient that every time we’re supposed to do anything, suddenly you have plans with I don’t even know who” he said, clearly annoyed. “All I’ve done is try to accommodate you and do what you want, but that doesn’t seem to be enough,” he added with a melodramatic sigh, which was more than enough to set you off.

“Oh, that’s a fucking joke, right?” you laughed. “Maybe you’d know more about my schedule if you ever bothered to talk to me more than once a week. And you literally just said I should come over because no one else can! Like, I’m your girlfriend- I shouldn’t be your last ditch option,” you scoffed. “You know what? I can’t be here right now. Call me when you’re ready to rejoin all of us in reality.” With that, you grabbed your bag and stormed out the door, letting your feet take you quickly in any direction that was simply away. No, you were right about what you said to Nikolai- Matt only saw you as convenient.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov au #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone fanfiction #ootw #masterlist

[tteenagepetulance]

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝓷𝓮𝔀𝓵𝔂 𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓃𝓎𝓁 𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

wonderstruck & dancing all alone (left) every night with us is like a dream (right) + a collectable lithograph to match !

𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈

she breezed past the threshold of betty’s rose garden, turned left at the hedges, and went deep, deeper, deeply.... back into the folklorian woods, where a magnificent tree reached ancient branches up towards nearly perpetual lavender skies; some called it a wonder, some called it a miracle, others called it a warning. that didn’t stop her from reaching out two fingertips & opening up the tiny hidden door, painted in swirls of teals and bright pinks, beckoning her towards a pandora’s box named freedom... and with a tumble, she promptly fell right down the rabbit hole. 

she found wonderland & this time, she wasn’t getting lost in it.

welcome to fae land’s mistywood high, home of the bullfrogs! once dilapidated school buildings brought back to life by thickets and weeds, swathed in a new coat of pastel pollen paint; teeming with life through vines and ivy, wisteria and lavender and baby breath filling every crack along concrete hallways. plums of roots, shoots, and flowers blooming out of lockers as birds chitter and crickets sing, binders labeled in floral washitape: Large Wing Anatomy Vol.156, ALCHEMY OF RARE GEMSTONES, the encyclopedia of rules and ramifications of ingesting fae food. sneaking out into the mushroom fields and having your first kiss over bioluminescent fungi, all your love immersed in neon blue. a world of neverending youth, dizzy drunk with nectar juice and the splendor of puppy love, each one as intoxicating as the one before. the cafeteria is teeming with political warfare, lines drawn along cliques and conformity. the maddening spin of petals and popularity, crying tears of mascara in the bathrooms... oh honey, life is just a classroom.

how exciting it can be, to dream up new worlds & wonders as the taylor’s version remasters release, and sparse them across new chapter eps, to revel in the majesty and whimsy of our hopelessly romantic inner youth. i hand picked these songs because i think they embody the whirlwind rush of high school, exacerbated under the conditions of nearly endless youth for my fickle fairy friends. 

collaboration continues as my good friend, jack antonoff, returns to my side once again to help with production, this time with his iconic indie-pop sound from bleachers alongside him. every song is remastered under his touch, and you might hear the fluttering beat of fairy wings, the twinkle of their magic, the cry of the bullfrog, the chorus of the crickets, and the endless wistfulness i feel when i think back to this journey we started on. lover, state of grace, and daylight got special attention from the both of us, as i wanted to recreate vibes and aesthetics of mistywood to the deepest of my heart’s desires, and as always, jack thoroughly delivered. also joining me again is hozier, who took complete creative liberty with his remaster, which will bring you to your knees with wonderment and hope. maren morris also joins this chapter for a feature, lending her gentle vocals to create an echoing, beautiful rendition that’ll haunt as much as it hopes. when i started this project, i knew i needed troye sivan to join me on at least one track, and he helped spin a gossamer-light tale of sparkling first infatuation, and helped elevate the track with the original demo lyrics from my days at nineteen. brendon urie rejoined my side for a heart-stopping, strings & piano only rerecord of ME!, a titular pop track from the past two years that’s been passed over by many, so i decided to present it in an incandescent, softer light. lastly, the wonderful kacey musgraves lends her voice and songwriting talent to help combine two iconic songs to create a whole new story - you belong with // betty finally brings the james/august/betty love triangle to fruition, after inez accuses august of actually having feelings for betty, and the titular night of prom that changes everything.

this album is a love letter to love itself. // these songs are open letters. // no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. you have to believe in love stories & prince charmings & happily every after. that’s why i write these songs. because i think love is fearless. // fearless is walking into your freshman year of high school almost immortally at fifteen. // an endless seventeen-year-old standing on a porch, learning to apologize. lovestruck kids wandering up and down the evergreen High Line. // the purple-pink skies of the soccer field on the walk home; the dazzle of opal necklaces i couldn’t afford gleaming from a department store jewelry case. // crowds of loving, vibrant people in the bleachers, watching acorn lacrosse. // daydreaming on parchment and mused about who might ask who to the dance or how nervous i was singing the anthem at the local fairyball game. //  // they are the moments you saw sparks that weren’t really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. // a single thread that, for better or for worse, ties you to your fate. // wonderment. intrigue. romance. i noticed things and decided they were romantic, and so they were. // creaks in the floorboards and ultraviolet morning light. // we crave romance. we long for those rare, enchanting moments when things just fall into place. above all else, we really, really want our lives to be filled with love. // love, wonder, and whimsy they deserve //  being young and needing someone so badly, you jump in head first without looking. // real love shines golden like starlight, and doesn’t fade or spontaneously combust. // opening the curtains to see the clearest, brightest daylight after the darkest night. // their secret admirer looks at them and sees an elaborate sunset of brilliant color and dimension and spirit and pricelessness. // all the angles of the kaleidoscope that is you. // i don’t think you should wait. i think you should speak now.

𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

enchanted

ivy

i know places

wonderland

daylight - whimsical world version

out of the woods (hozier remaster)

invisible string

new romantics (bleachers remaster)

ours (remaster ft. maren morris)

state of grace - twinkling fireflies version

you need to calm down

we are never ever getting back together

shake it off

blank space

stay stay stay

the way i loved you

i wish you would

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

lover - midsommar night version

𝒷𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈

you belong with // betty (kacey musgraves remix)

ME! piano remix by kitty committee studio (ft. brendon urie)

sparks fly (original demo lyrics ft. troye sivan)

op notes: hello & welcome to mistywood! thank you so much for everybody’s interest in this!!!! in my mind, all of these “chapter eps” occur after the release of all of taylor’s versions. this was a very self indulgent project, as you can see, and i can guarantee the rest will be as well!! as you can probably tell, the first two portions of liner notes were written by yours truly, while the last paragraph is a scouring off all of taylor’s to thoroughly ~capture~ the prologues she always provides. please enjoy! i take zero criticism lmao too busy being absolutely unhinged!!! 

please remember that likes are appreciated, but reblogs beat the tumblr algorithm! support content creators!

keep an eye out for next week’s creation, forever & always are the sweetest con (chapter two) - just as a sneak peek, they’re gay, they’re cowboys, they’re werewolves, and i’m thrumming with excitement over getting started!! i’m aiming at having them posted by next weekend :) 

tag list: @tscreators, @networkthirteen, just ask to be added to the next one! credit: coloring (@maxiresources #1, @suunflowerx foodie, @bbyhyuck summer’98), vinyl mockup purchased

#tsedit #ts edit #taylurking #taylornation #networkthirteen #tscreators #taylor swift #taylor swift edit #taylorswiftedit #myedit #taylors version

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”: Volume 3, Chapter 1

Summary:

Erik N'Jadaka Stevens. The top student in his graduating class at the Naval Academy. The youngest graduate to do so.

Erik excels at M.I.T. studying bioacoustics and sonic warfare. Hounded by Tony Stark to become his protege in Malibu, Erik sets out to forge a path that will take him into the military and Special Ops to complete his ultimate goal: Revenge for his mother and father and the overthrow of the Wakandan Royal House. With the help of his roommate, Disa, he may have found a way to balance first love and his need for justice.

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only.

"My nose wide as the Red Sea (Red Sea) Lips full, fillers don't fill me (Fill me) Soon as my cousin killer's on trial (Woah) Family gon' pull 'em sitting courtside Godsend they say, we singing la-la-la Don't want no vultures on our si-i-ide Looking black as the messi-i-iah I got time…

When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow Superpower"

Kirby—"Superpower"

Chocolate City.

That's what they called this particular section of dorm housing on the fourth floor of the building known as New House that Erik N'Jadaka Stevens found himself standing in at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

M.I.T.

"No man, this dude is different. He's twenty, but he acts way older. Quiet. Not real friendly…I don't mean in a bad way…he's just not gregarious. Grad student, not a freshman… I didn't ask. He applied to be here and Jay said he'd be a good fit. Oakland…I don't know…"

They were feeling him out already.

The lone voice he heard was in another room talking on a phone. The person wasn't even aware that Erik had entered House One that Chocolate City shared with iHouse, another identity-based undergraduate group who used the first two floors while they used the other three top floors.

Erik had money to get his own apartment or his own house if he wanted. Working for Tony Stark as an intern and a Stark Fellow for a year prior to M.I.T earned him money to live like an adult. Hell, he gave up a luxury apartment and tasteful eclectic furniture to move cross country and hunker down among thirty-one young Black men from around the world—correction, thirty young Black men, and one young white Italian man—who came to study a wide range of STEM-related fields.

Erik stared at the Chocolate City Mission Statement on his phone:

"Chocolate City is a brotherhood of MIT students and alumni who identify with urban culture and share common backgrounds, interests, ethnicities, and/or experiences. By cultivating a tradition of social, intellectual, character, and leadership development, the Brothers of Chocolate City exemplify a high standard of excellence which is founded on continual growth. We seek to enrich the MIT and greater global communities by embodying the principles of our brotherhood."

Taking a deep breath, Erik took time to meditate on what his purpose was in being there in that commons room space at that moment. It was a promise to his Uncle Bakari, Aunt Shavonne, and his Grandpop that he would spend at least six months in the dorm to have a proper group living experience that he didn't have at the Naval Academy. One that was less rigid and military guided. And not a juvenile hall. He shook off the memories.

Six months.

He gave his word.

Erik rolled the suitcase he had with him against a wall and the movement alerted the unseen speaker to end their call. A lanky fade-wearing young man with glasses and very light skin walked in from another room.

"Hi, Erik?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, welcome! I'm Rasheed. Junior year. Engineering. One of two Co-Chairs here. You look different from the Zoom chat…hair is longer…"

They shook hands and Erik ran his fingers over the short 'fro he was cultivating. It was one of the perks of being away from The Naval Academy and Stark Industries. He could let his shit grow freely. He could wear regular clothes. He could stand down.

"Growing it out for a minute."

"Are you wearing gold slugs?"

"Yeah," Erik said becoming annoyed with comments about his appearance.

The moment he left Tony Stark's employ he had pure gold panther slugs made for his bottom teeth to match the ones his Baba used to wear.

"Is this all your stuff?"

"Nah, I have some more out in my car."

"What do you drive?"

"1970 Chevrolet Chevelle."

"What? A muscle car. What color?"

"Black."

"I'll go down and help you bring the rest of your stuff up. Everyone is still moving in and finding the campus. We're having a dorm meeting with the Chocolate City crew before the big New House meeting downstairs later tonight."

"Okay. Cool."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the large hall on the first floor to the exit. Outside the afternoon air was crisp and Erik admired the brick of the building as they walked away from it to where he parked temporarily.

Rasheed whistled when he saw Erik's car.

"You sank some money into this bad boy."

"My grandfather had it for years. Fixed it up and passed it on to me. He still adds stuff to it if I ask him too."

"That's cool, bruh. Real cool."

Erik pulled out two more roller bags and a duffle, along with his computer bag from his trunk.

"That's it?"

"Yep," Erik said.

"You can stay parked here until tomorrow night. That's when you have to use your residency parking passes and move it to your assigned area."

"Bet."

Moving his things back up into his assigned floor, more young men had arrived in their commons and introductions were made. One husky guy with a crimson and white MIT sweatshirt sat on a couch with his laptop playing music. The music switched up and a voice Erik recognized filled the room.

ButtaFly.

A DJ that hosted a popular MIT radio show. A DJ he listened to for months while he worked for Tony Stark.

"You are listening to the Cosmic Café…up next I'm going to have some new music by Kirby, Seinabo Bey, and I'll also throw in some classic Mutabaruka dub poetry. I want to give a big welcome to the new students arriving for the start of a new school year, especially to the young men of Chocolate City. My homegirl Jennifer is the Graduate Resident Tutor there so hey girl…I hear some really brilliant new students are over there, so welcome… welcome to all the folks over at New House…"

Erik stood in front of red and white hoodie.

"Where is the campus radio station at? Do you know?"

"WMBR?" hoodie asked.

"It's in the basement of the Walker Memorial Building," Rasheed said.

"Is that far from here?"

"Not really if you don't mind walking."

Erik pulled up the campus map on his phone.

"What room do I have?" Erik asked.

He followed Rasheed down a hall to the far end. Two twin beds, two desks, a decent window…

No one else had belongings there yet.

Erik picked the side away from the window and dumped his stuff.

"Thanks for helping me," Erik said.

"No problem—"

"What time is the meeting?"

"In two hours—"

Erik left the room with Rasheed at his heels.

"The rest of the guys will be back, and your roommate—"

"Later. I gotta go peep something first. I'll be back on time."

Erik passed by more Black male undergrads entering Chocolate City.

"Hey, Erik!"

Darcy, the other Co-Chair called out to him as Erik headed toward the elevator. A bright white smile on a rich round mahogany face tried to get his attention as Erik swept past.

"I'll be back!" he called out again.

Erik checked his cell phone. ButtaFly's show lasted for another thirty minutes. He stuck in earbuds to listen to her as he walked outside once more. Zipping up the bright orange windbreaker he had on, he used his phone GPS to guide him to his muse. The voice that haunted him for so many months when he worked for Stark. The voice that soothed him when he was in bed alone. The voice that seduced him when he pleasured himself in that big queen-sized bed he used to own.

Things were different now.

He had a twin bed and a male roommate. He had to share cooking duties with young men when he once ate with billionaire playboys and a Black Princess of Monaco. Erik used to fly on a private jet with Tony Stark anywhere in the world and had access to tech that these students were just trying to learn about and would never get to see on a higher level in a lifetime.

So different.

No more smoking weed and jerking off naked to Buttafly's voice in private trying to imagine what she looked like as he came in his hand with deep guttural moans. Very shortly, he would come face to face with the woman of his dreams.

A woman who helped guide him back to his ultimate purpose in life and she didn't even know it.

Chapter 2 HERE.

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​  @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​  @shookmcgookqueen​ @yoyolovesbucky​

@raysunshine78​ @the-illlestt​ @terrablaze514​  @l-auteuse​ @amirra88​ @jimizwidow​  @janelledarling​

@chaneajoyyy​  @sweetestdream92  @purple-apricots​  @blackpinup22​  @hennessystevens-udaku​

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @bugngiz​ @stariamrry​  @honeytoffee​ @meilintheempressofdreams​

@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​ @thewaysheis​—awkward

@tchallasbabymama​

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@nizzle-mo​

@cecereads209​

#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 3 #Erik Stevens #Killmonger Fanfiction #njadaka #Erik Killmonger #Uzumaki Rebellion #Black Panther Fanfiction #Smut

[ri-ahhh]

for the win

After dealing with a lifetime of insecurities, Winnie Walker finally gets the courage to pursue her dreams, with a few bumps along the way. But that confidence may not carry over when it comes to a certain hazel-eyed football player who’s had her attention for much too long.

A/N: this was a random inspo that hit me out of nowhere a while ago and I was gonna make it an epic oneshot, but I think I’ll just break it into parts instead. So, hence, this is part one. Hopefully you like it enough for it to be even worth posting more.

warnings: none yet, other than this is def gonna be as cheesy as you think it is

***

Winnie Walker has always considered herself an enigma. Not in that annoying, ‘I’m so cute and quirky’ type of way, but rather in the way that made her someone who never quite fit into one defined space. The kind perfected by years of self doubt, an emotionally distant mother, and the random ebb and flow of confidences and insecurities that always helps her remember that she is, in fact, perfectly un-extraordinary: her face is too round, but she’s always been called pretty; her personality is dry enough that she finds it challenging making female friends, but she fits in well with the boys; and she has a penchant for being the last one to talk about anything she might be feeling until she puts a pen to paper and speaks through the mouths of others.

Sports and writing were her main passions, but it still took until her senior year of high school to decide that she wanted to be a sports journalist. Not just a journalist, though -- more than anything, she dreamed of stepping out into the light as a broadcaster. Shy by nature but an athlete at heart, it once again put her in that enigmatic grey space where she wasn’t sure what the hell she was thinking.

But it’s what her heart was calling for her to do. For the first time in her life, Winnie Walker felt sure about something despite everyone’s doubts -- including her own. She grew up an athlete, and some of her fondest memories as a child were caught between either being in her dad’s man cave with all of his friends, cheering on their team of choice for whatever sport was on, discussing heatedly what plays should or shouldn’t have taken place. Or, on the volleyball court. 

The full ride offer from USC that was presented but never came to fruition because of a devastating knee injury in one of her last club tournaments haunted Winnie in the months leading up to her high school graduation. 

Her mother, Dahlia, was not-so-secretly thrilled. A stage mother through and through, she had always supported her daughter as she made headway in her sport as a star player, but it was an open point of contention that Winnie planned to follow her passion for it all the way to college. She wanted her middle daughter to attend the local university, get a nice marketing degree, and settle into a high rise in downtown Dallas, where she could point at during brunch with her friends and brag about the pretty penny her kid made with her perfectly nice degree she attained in her perfectly nice hometown. 

That’s not Winnie, though, and everyone except Dahlia knew it. No one was all too surprised that she still wanted to escape to California (again, except her mother), even if they were slightly shocked about her decision for a major. The reactions from her friends and sisters and dad had her even more excited as she scanned the email of her academic acceptance into USC. It finally gave her the courage to spill the beans to her mother as well.

Dahlia Walker very much scoffed in the face of her quiet, introverted, hopeful daughter sitting across the kitchen island while she scrubbed at the dishes from dinner.

“Winona, sweetie, you refused to even speak at your sister’s wedding as the maid of honor, and you want to be on TV? With all those... men?”

Winnie cringed a little bit and rolled her eyes at the slightly far-off look on her mother’s face as she no doubt started imagining the sweaty athletes the reporters would stand next to post-game.

“You don’t think I could do it?” she asked flatly, flicking a chip of her nail polish off her finger so it flew across the otherwise spotless granite — her mom hated when she did that. 

Dahlia’s hands picked up their pace again in the suds, slowed down by whatever middle-aged fantasy was going on in her mind. She shook her head, the highlights in her perfectly styled blonde bob shifting under the recessed lights.

“The girls who do that are just so bouncy. Friendly. They curl their hair.”

Winnie bit her lip. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Her body felt deflated. “I knew I could count on you to be supportive.”

“Oh honey, I’m just trying to be realistic with you,” her mother said dismissively. Like she didn’t realize the pang her words caused to spread in Winnie’s chest; it should have been be all-too familiar by then, but the sting was never weakened with age or predictability. “And California? Are you really ready to be so far from home? You hardly ever even leave your room.”

It had taken everything in Winnie to hold back the open scoff she longed to throw at her mother; instead, she just stood up and left the kitchen, along with any childish hope that Dahlia might ever make an effort to really know her middle daughter.

Because anyone that knew Winona Elle Walker could predict just how much she would thrive in California. In the persistent sunshine that never quite reached the peak of being too hot for very long, unlike the nearly six months of 90 and 100-plus degree days of summer she knew so well in Texas. Within close proximity to a beach that didn’t have swamp-colored water washing ashore.

In a place well over a thousand miles away from Dahlia.

And that’s exactly how Winnie found herself in LA: thriving. She made friends easily, enjoyed life on the USC campus while she studied the exact major she had set out for the first day she sat down in her first class -- Navigating News in the Digital Age class -- and it was a relatively cheap flight home if she ever missed it too much. Winnie started feeling less like an enigma, and more like someone whose quirks were becoming more of a benefit to her success than she could have ever imagined.

Now, as a woman in her senior year, nearly 22 and set to graduate in only a few months time, she’s finally up for the most coveted position in her major: being the prime time student reporter at the biggest sporting events of the school’s entire athletic program — the Trojan football games. Reporting at football games was a job always reserved for seniors, and she had been driving her roommate — and best friend in California — Naomi crazy all summer prepping for the spot’s audition.

“Winnie, babe, you know the plays backwards and forwards. You’ve understood more about the rules of football since you were a kid than I’ll ever know as a grown woman. You have all the key players’ and coaches’ names and numbers memorized. You couldn’t be any more prepared,” she smiles, good-natured irritation clear in her eyes and behind the blinding smile that shone from her mocha-colored skin.

It softens some when Winnie stood from the couch, and Naomi reaches over and slaps her retreating ass just hard enough to make Winnie yelp and giggle. “Not to mention those squats are paying off big time, bitch. You’re gonna kill it.”

Winnie rolls her eyes and continues to make her way to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “The camera won’t see my ass, but thanks.”

Naomi winks. “No. But Grayson Dolan might.”

Grayson Dolan — the walk-on that had stunned everyone when he was thrown into a game his freshman year after two of the starting tight ends had become injured on two consecutive plays. Now a senior himself, he’s led the team ever since in receiving yards, receptions, and TD’s, and is a clear prospect for the NFL in the coming months.

He also happens to be the player Winnie had drunkenly admitted she had a crush on during a girls night last year, and her friends have yet to let her live it down. She had felt ridiculous saying she had a crush as a 21 year-old, but that’s really all it was; he was hot, an extremely talented player, and she barely knew him beyond that one time he had spilled a drink on her at a frat party, and the rather interesting reputation that followed him around campus. There was nothing more to it.

Even if her attraction to him hasn’t died down in the passing time.

Winnie only blushes and pours herself a little extra, blaming the Maison No. 9 when Naomi throws her head back with a cackle and calls out the matching pink in her cheeks.

The morning of her audition, a mere two weeks into her fall semester, Winnie has butterflies fluttering madly in the pit of her belly. Her truer nature of being somewhat shy and timid in these situations has never left, always flaring up in moments of self-doubt and unpredictability. Undoubtedly, however, this audition deserves all the nerves; it’s a clear stepping stone into network broadcasting, and would almost guarantee her a spot as an intern at FOX Sports next semester.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, silently urging herself to get her shit together, and takes a deep breath before eyeing Naomi’s curling iron plugged in by the sink adjacent to her own.

Winnie hasn’t curled her hair once in the nearly four years she’d been in LA. Not for nights out, or auditions, or even a date. A brief moment of madness overtakes her as she stands there staring at the metal device, her hand starting to reach out as words that should be long forgotten ring loud and clear in her head. For a second, the pale beige paint of her apartment bathroom turns the light blue and grey color scheme of her childhood one. Her mom had ‘surprised’ her with the the renovation one year when she decided to redecorate the house while Winnie was at volleyball camp, insisting she had chosen Winnie’s favorite colors, when in reality it simply matched the rest of the monotone suburban house that Winnie secretly couldn’t stand. It was boring, and typical, and...stuck, despite its relative newness.

With that, the fog clears as quickly as it had come, and she sets her jaw determinedly. She hasn’t let Dahlia psych her out for this long; she isn’t about to let now be the first time since she’s been out here on her own.

And maybe Naomi was right. Maybe she’d catch a certain tight end’s eye with a tight end of her own, after all.

The nausea suddenly returns as she shakes her head and reaches for her straightener instead, flicking it on before sectioning off her hair.

“No wonder you’re so fucking single, Win.”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #blurb #g blurb #why am i posting this in the height of everyone elses amazing oc’s #stupid

[prettywordsyouleft]

Labelling Love | Part 1 (Collab)

Summary: Meeting you changed the way Eunwoo viewed romance and love entirely.

Pairing: Cha Eunwoo x female reader

Genre: university au / romance / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Welcome to the second series in the monthly Love In Fours Ways collab with @jackiejacks923​ @noona-clock​ & @this-song-thats-only-for-you​ . In the final week of each month during this collab, we’ll be each sharing a mini-series using 4 of the pictures/concepts illustrated in the book that inspired our series that I’ve credited below. 

Credit to: Puuung - Love Is In The Small Things // #76 , #60 , #4 , #33

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 // Collab Masterlist

Part 1 - Not Being Able To Concentrate Because She's There

Cha Eunwoo didn’t believe in love at first sight. Or upon a second or even a third look. He was certain that it was nothing but a phenomenon of the hopeless romantic. A guise that someone who wanted to fall in love badly held over the top of feelings that could be more easily described as attractive or interesting. Eunwoo had met many people in his lifetime that he could easily commit to saying he was attracted to or interested in upon first sight. Such was the nature of being human, so he thought.

However, love was something that came with time. A feeling that grew with experiences shared together, not something you felt straight away. He was a firm believer of this.

So what exactly could he call the feeling that was making his heart beat erratically in his chest as he watched you right now?

Blinking forcibly in attempts to regain control over his physical reaction, Eunwoo licked at his lips, realising his breath was heightened. Now clamping his lips together, he did everything he could to tear his eyes away from your direction and back to the guide in front of him.

“This is the campus library. I hope you took down notes on how to get here because you’ll be spending a lot of your time cramming here. There are eleven floors and this place houses pretty much every book about absolutely everything you could ask a question about. This area here is known as the main study lobby. Most students find the second-floor study area pretty noisy though so if you’re…”

Eunwoo lost his focus again on the tour and slipped back to you at one of the tables quietly reading a book. Sliding your hand onto your neck to better support your head as you continued perusing the pages before you, Eunwoo gulped as his skin began to tingle.

“Its attraction,” he breathed out slowly, trying to claim the feeling overwhelming him as that. It didn’t feel like enough to say it was mere attraction though and Eunwoo frowned. “I’m interested too.”

“And I’m intrigued,” another voice announced, nudging Eunwoo playfully. Glancing at the fellow freshman at his side, Eunwoo cringed at his high school buddy Harvey overhearing his outspoken thoughts. “Who are you attracted to? The tour guide? She’s like forty, dude.”

“No, but if you are, by all means ask her out when we’re done.”

“So then who? The rest of us are guys. But hey, if you’re unsure and want to experiment-”

“Could you stop yourself from talking instead?” Eunwoo replied dryly, dragging his feet reluctantly as the group started to move along. He glanced over his shoulder back in your direction, blinking when he found the table you had been reading at now empty. Spinning around, he thought he saw the end of your ponytail descending the stairs at the front of the building but he couldn’t be too sure.

Harvey jostled him around. “Whoever she is, maybe you imagined her. She could be the girl of your college dreams.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I would be better off imagining up a new friend than having you around, Harvey,” Eunwoo commented before letting out a sigh.

Perhaps you were just a fleeting moment of temptation, after all.

Eunwoo was simultaneously relieved and horrified to find that you existed the following day at his first lecture. Harvey’s teasing had simmered down somewhat when the tour moved out of the library and Eunwoo began to believe maybe his friend was right and he conjured you up.

Seeing you in the flesh again solved the puzzle of whether you existed or not.

However, as the hairs stood up on his arms and his eyes fixated on the side of your head as you moved across the front of the lecture hall to the staircase, Eunwoo was troubled by seeing you in person again.

His physical reaction only felt greater this time as well.

Not this row, he begged internally as you came closer to where he was set up, closing his eyes when you diverted towards him. Of course, the universe was testing him right now. Still, he didn’t understand why you of all the people in this world had to cause his insides to implode with nervous excitement like this.

“Hello,” you greeted softly and pointed at the seat you had stopped before. “Can I sit next to you?”

“Oh uh um well uh-”

You grinned. “It’s just the centre of the room and the row, so...”

“That’s exactly why I chose this spot,” he admitted and you bit your lip to control your delight before sitting down.

“I’ve always been the only one who chooses by the environment on where to sit that I’ve known of.”

“Well it makes the most sense to,” he managed to comment and you nodded along eagerly. “You have to be comfortable in order to learn.”

“Precisely! I’m so glad to finally meet someone who thinks the same. I’m Y/N and you are?”

“Eunwoo,” he replied, taking the hand you held outstretched towards him.

He had to clamp his mouth shut before the squeak building up in his throat was expelled, his cheeks feeling hot with his efforts. You mirrored the flushed expression before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eunwoo. I hope this semester will be productive for the pair of us.”

The first lecture was anything but productive. Eunwoo couldn’t concentrate for the first time in a learning environment in years. And when he hadn’t been as focused in the past, it was due to being unwell and needing to be resting at home, not because a gorgeous girl had sat down beside him. He was well versed in ignoring others around him when learning.

It threw him completely to be unable to focus at all with you next to him.

Eunwoo chalked it up to first day nerves. Or anything else he could kid himself of. But after a second lecture with no true coherency of what was being spoken about in the class and then on the third being called upon and blanking over an answer he knew in great detail from previous study, Eunwoo knew it was due to you.

The problem was he liked you too much to try and avoid you. It wasn’t just the physical reaction now either. Every time you arrived early for class and you chatted over topics before the professor arrived. He was enamoured by the way you thought. Conversation was all too easy between you.

Which was why you didn’t hesitate to gesture to his empty page. “Another day of not taking down notes?”

“Hah, yeah.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those geniuses who don’t need to write down information to remember and ace all your tests,” you breathed, leaning towards him.

Eunwoo wished right now he was one of those types. He was immensely grateful that all lectures were recorded so he could cram in note-taking later when he was back home. Staring down at his blank page, he let out a nervous laugh. “Nope, that’s not me.”

“Then? Is the content too hard? I could help you during lunch today to get your head around it?” you offered, blinking softly.

He should have been honest with you then, however, the offer to have a meal with you seemed more desirable than anything else and he found himself nodding along. “Could you?”

“It’ll be my pleasure! I can’t have you falling behind so soon into the semester.” Eunwoo groaned out loud as you giggled. Glancing at you with a brief pout, he then grinned. “I’ll buy lunch then for your help.”

“Ooh, deal!”

It was evident even to you after twenty minutes of attempting to explain the situation that Eunwoo was distracted. You didn’t know why, however. At first, he was determined to make his way through the entirety of lunch fully invested in what you had to say. And for that matter, he had been invested enough to hear each word you spoke, they just didn’t make enough sense. Was it because of the perfume you had on today? It had been fragrant in class earlier on, but now squeezed into a tiny table at the back of one of the bustling campus cafes, it washed over him completely. Was it the way you brushed your hair away from your neck and placed it all to one side of your head, exposing your delicate skin? Honestly, Eunwoo couldn’t tell why he was being like this, and admittedly he was growing quite concerned for his sanity.

You were driving him down a path he had never wandered before.

Harvey’s remark about university being known as an experimental time in a young person’s life came to the forefront of his brain. Was his physical attraction to you that out of control that he couldn’t focus in your company? Or was it just you as a whole?

He whimpered with the lack of an answer.

Glancing away from your book, you placed down your pen and sighed. “This isn’t helping, is it?”

“No.”

“And it’s not the professor that’s the problem, is it?” you continued and Eunwoo shook his head sadly. “I bet the content isn’t that hard for you-”

“It’s you.”

“Excuse me?” you asked slowly, brows knitting together. “I’m the problem?”

Eunwoo opened his mouth, only for embarrassment to flare up within his stomach. How could he tell you that it was because of boyish feelings that he couldn’t concentrate in your company? He’d barely known you for a week now. It would haunt him for the rest of his semester if he confessed this early into things.

However, his lack of response had done enough damage, your hands hastily grabbing for your belongings scattered over the table in between lunch. “I’m sorry I’m such a problem. You should have told me earlier, Eunwoo.”

“No, it’s nothing like that!”

“I’ll sit somewhere else on Monday so you can concentrate on the lecture. Good luck with your semester.”

“Y/N!” he called out hopelessly, reaching out for your lower arm. You halted all movement and stared at his gentle grip over your arm.

He knew he had no other option.

“I can’t concentrate because ever since I met you, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

_________________

Part 2

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