#normally this is when I turn to poetry but I’m also burnt out and that’s not gonna happen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dallonm-archive · 3 years

Photo

HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS | SHORT STORY UPDATES #5 & COLLECTION INTRO

[image description: a pale orange sky with dark orange clouds. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO SWALLOW MATCHSTICKS”. /end id]

Hello y’all! Since I already mentioned this briefly, and I’m in a really good place with it, I thought I’d quickly actually introduce my collection title and talk about what it’s about!

Originally, I was going with the working title “How I Break My Bones”, but I didn’t like that the “I” suggested a singular POV in a title for the collection. Whilst brainstorming titles I came up with the line “I swallowed your matchsticks but you still set me alight” and was like what the fuck, that sounds like a poem line [I didn’t wrote poetry back then :)] but I loved the imagery so I just! Smacked them together! Also matchsticks apparently matchsticks are poisonous and that really enhanced the meaning. Funnily enough, the fact that matches start fires isn’t central to the title; fire isn’t an important image in the collection (except for one story), however burning is? But the burning imagery usually comes from mentions of sunlight rather than actual fire, which I think is very interesting and fitting for the collections Vibe.

I’m letting the collection grow thematically with the stories I write, but the central idea is self destructive behaviour, and decisions that are very very irrational to literally anyone except the main character(s). Some of them get to this from being pushed to their limit, but for others there’s a more continuous sense, that what we see is just part of a chain of self destructive behaviour that’s their normal. Lemon Teeth especially is interesting in that sense because there’s this general idea of “hey how the fuck are these two still alive”, whereas with, Tabby, the narrator is pushed to a limit they’re not even aware of until there’s consequences. The title plays with this idea of self destructive behaviour that’s actually out of defence: someone swallows matchsticks so they can’t be burnt, but the matchsticks poison them (the severity of that is also dependent on how many you swallow! I think my google history is really concerned that I’m eating matchsticks!). Your perception of reality tells you to do this irrational action so one consequence can’t happen, but you snap back into reality and realise the consequence of that action is actually far greater than the original fear, but it’s too late to reverse it. Also! A lot of WLW/femme NB characters is the goal, on the grounds of Haha I Do That.

I try to keep this collection very fluid where all the stories are very individual, but are similar when it comes to core themes and it’s been very fun to develop! I also feel like visually this collection is very orange and red? Do NOT know what that means yet <3 but a lot of the stories are visually very hazy and sometimes dreamy, but the content itself is very dark. I’ve been playing around with this idea of “injecting” haziness into a narrators POV so their perception of reality warps and intensifies as the story progresses and we end up in High Reality Territory. I’ve talked about some of these before, but I’m going to go through the current stories I have in here in their current order under the cut - mainly because I find it very interesting to actually see them all in one place and how they function as a collective, and also to see how much it changes! I also won’t have a taglist for this WIP, as I just use my general taglist for short story updates, so if you want updates then you can join that!

general taglist ; ask to be + or -! @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @harehearts @amnestys @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @feverdreamwritings @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdy-writes @keira-is-writing @flip-phones

content warnings for the stories in order that they appear: murder (ammonite) / fire (lemon teeth) / car accident (how to relax on class A) / toxic relationships (the name i gave her) / cults (and saturn, too + church mud). nothing is talked about in detail.

Disclaimer: These stories are my original work - plagiarism and any form of copying will not be tolerated.

[image description: two large rocks in the ocean, with waves crashing over them. in the middle, in white text, reads “AMMONITE (LAND’S END)”. /end id]

After finding washed up bones on the beach, Dennis pretends they belong to his missing wife Melody - and as he continues to talk to her, his innocence is brought into question.

This story means a lot to me because it was the first one I drafted post writing hiatus that felt like it actually resonated with the way my writing has changed. It was one of the easiest first drafts I’ve done, and editing is going pretty smoothly as well! I loved playing with the moral ambiguity element and creating this very eerie balance between “cold blooded killer” and “grieving husband” and as the author! I do not know whether he actually killed his wife or not! This is one of three stories that I should start submitting this month.

[image description: a black background with 4 lemons in the centre - 3 whole, one cut in half. In the middle, in white text, reads “LEMON TEETH”. /end id]

A house narrates the night its inhabitants burn it to the ground, and tries to understand the human condition from their toxic, tangled relationship.

I drafted this after Ammonite and it ~sucked~. I went to edit in January because I wanted to submit it to a magazine ( <3 missed the deadline <3) and ended up rewriting the whole thing and it is SO much better. It’s gotten quite surrealist but I’ve never written surrealism so I don’t want to call it that yet? But I mean, some of the imagery + the fact that the narrator is a house experiencing complex thought is v surrealist! I want to fine tune that element more because when it comes to submissions I’ll need to actually determine whether it’s surrealism or not but I’m very excited to because out of all the stories this is the one I want published the most! I love it so much. I loved turning a bunch of wood into a character (they’re so sarcastic and mean?? love it), and Lawrence and Frances are perhaps one of THE most fucked up relationships I’ve written so far <3

[image description: a silhouette of a cat against a dark orange background. In the middle, in white text, reads “TABBY”. /end id]

A reclusive man who’d rather exist as a phantom than a human notices the neighbours aren’t feeding their cat, and is sucked into a world that breaks the stillness of his own.

This is the only story here that has an update post that’s not outdated so you can check out more about this story HERE. In hindsight, I think this is the one that really drove where this collection is going the most; I had a lot of different thematic ideas in my head and drafting this naturally organised my thoughts and highlighted the most important ones to me. This also really helped me figure out the perception of reality in this collection and that’s also a central idea (and one of my favourites to explore). I’ve always said I love writing things that feel hazy, feel dreamy, but this story took that took a new level and I feel there’s a lot more depth now? Tabby felt neither like high realism nor realism, it felt like reality with this “glow” that only the narrator seemed to be aware of. This glow reels the narrator into this dreamlike perception of reality to the point where he can’t distinguish the real world from his perception of it, and ends up doing things that he otherwise wouldn’t do had he had a clearer perception of what’s going on. It’s like dreamy reality: make it insidious! I read back on this draft the other day and I’m really excited to start editing, this is the third out of the 3 stories I’m aiming to get published first!

[image description: a single car in the middle of the road on a foggy night, with bright orange headlights. In the middle, in white text, reads “HOW TO RELAX ON CLASS A” /end id]

Whilst trying to manage a bad trip, our narrator makes an unlikely friendship with the driver who just hit his best friend.

I’m currently drafting this, and will likely make an update post for it soon so I won’t talk to much about the story itself here. But if you want to know how the draft is going: it’s sure going! This is in 2nd person instructional which I’ve never written before and it is very difficult at times but also very fun. I can already tell this is the story that’ll need a lot of fine tuning and editing but I really love the premise and where it’s going. This is sort of an evolution of a short story I wrote in 2019 that sucked <3 but I only got the actual idea for the plot a couple months back. My only complaint right now is I’d like a new title because I don’t like this following the “How to __” structure when the collection already does that.

[image description: A black night sky. In the middle, in white text, reads “THE NAME I GAVE HER”. Below the text is 6 moons in different phases, all glowing yellow. /end id]

A woman tries to see her relationship outside of the rose-tinted glasses the night her and her girlfriend fake their deaths.

I wrote this around October but never finished it, and I think I still haven’t figured out the crux of this story or even how it’s meant to be told but I love it too much to let go and really wanna make it work. This is the first WLW story I wrote that’s like, clearly a WLW couple but it’s not about that, and that meant a lot to me. Like I always knew I could just write WLW characters existing but to actually write that, especially with such emotional complexity and also pain that’s not tied to their sexuality was really freeing for me. Also lesbians really are like “damn I need symbolic imagery in my queer story :/” and just write about the moon like the way this story is JUST a bunch of moon imagery and is also structured around the phases? Very sexy

[image description: the view of an orange and purple sky, with the sun rising behind a darker purple mountain. A tree’s shadow takes up the right side and bottom left corner. In the middle, in white text, reads “AND SATURN, TOO”. /end id]

I haven’t drafted this yet (I plan to after HTROCA) but it’s lived rent free in my head long enough to know I want it in this collection. This story chronicles our main character - an ace lesbian who might not know she’s ace yet?? - as she spends the summer on a commune her parents sent her to and I for one am loving having a second cult-y story to explore (although this isn’t explicitly a cult, it just has the undertones and the narrator makes it very clear how she feels about that). This was originally going to have a romance, but lately I’ve been really into the importance of presenting lesbian and sapphic identities beyond the relationship aspect and the element of personal/individual identity. Like HTROCA, I want to have a full update post on this story one day so I won’t talk much about it now, but I am currently brainstorming it and I’m! Very obsessed with it!

[image description: a close up photo of an eye rotated sideways. The photo is filtered red and repeated and on the left hand side, flipped the opposite way. In the middle, in white text, reads “CHURCH MUD”. /end id]

We’ll pretend I didnt spend the last month talking shit about this title BUT for those who don’t know the origin story of my novel Revelations, Revelations is that it was meant to be a short story for my dissertation that quickly unravelled into what it is now. Since I’d already presented the concept to my advisor, I decided to turn it into a sort of “RR But With An Alternate Timeline/Inciting Incident” where Felix and Dorothy escaped the cult at the same time, at the height of their conflict and it got fucked up REAL quick. It was actually so fascinating because whilst it was definitely intentionally heightened, it felt like I was exploring both of their “dark rooms”, exploring a possibility that they would both happily ignore, but was very much almost a reality. I’m no longer doing Uni this year because of covid (I couldn’t stand another zoom lecture), so I don’t know if I can use this story next year but I really want to turn it into something. I just have to strip the RR elements from it and turn it into its own - my <3 third cult story <3.

And that’s where we currently are! I’m not sure if I’ll do collection driven updates, since I just write whatever short stories come to mind and if they fit then great and if they don’t then great, but I might do one say 6 months from now just to see how much it’s changed. This is my primary WIP this year, as 2021 is the ~year of submissions~ for me and hopefully I’ll be able to share some of these stories with y’all soon!

#short stories #atlastracking #wip intro #how to swallow matchsticks #me introducing my collection after roman introduced theirs i am just a SHEEP!!!!!!

67 notes · View notes

shikamarubae · 4 years

Text

War of the heart pt4

Pairing: Kakashi x reader, Itachi x reader

Summary: You are trying to understand what happens and the reason for your kidnapping, but in the meantime you end up getting too close to Uchiha Itachi

Warnings: Mention of blood

A/N: English isn´t my first languge, please keep that in mind, i hope you like it.(i appreciate comments and criticism).

The parts in italics are memories/dreams with memories.

Tags: @flowersgirl02 , @affection-rabbit , @dumb-dork @jillanaholland

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

After an entire week confined to that mountain, you had managed to reach several conclusions. Whatever you did, neither of the two men who had captured you seemed to intend to harm you, what's more, there was a general effort for you to recover quickly, so your conclusion was that for whatever they wanted to use you, they needed you healthy and unharmed.

The second thing you realized is that they were extremely confident that you would not be able to escape, so they did not put surveillance on you and even left you alone for hours in that place, as at that precise moment. It was already night and there was no one around or so it seemed, sitting outside the entrance to the mountain and with views of the precipice you concentrated on your body, your energy and your chakra, several minutes passed and you determined the direction and speed of the wind, you tried to focus your chakra on the side of your hand and with it cut the burst that was directed towards you, nothing happened, you tried again several times, less and less concentrated by the frustration that was beginning to take over you, it was One of your most simple techniques, it was true that it was easier to create air blades with a sword or a fan, but you had not been able to do anything. It was the first time that something like this had happened to you, even having been hurt on the brink of death, you had been able to use your chakra without problem. Suddenly your mind clicked and you ran into the mountain, looking, around the room you occupied, the plate of food, it was a soup, there was still a little, you wet a finger with the content that was left and you smelled it, It smelled normal, vegetable-like, and the flavor had been common, too, if somewhat tasteless.

Everything pointed to that it was a normal soup but your instinct was screaming that they were doing something to you, something was making you not be able to use your chakra and the only possibility was food.

You wandered around the room, feeling the cold stone under your feet, thinking or trying to do it, if it wasn't the food, what could it be?

Then you realized something, if they had made you unable to use your chakra but still needed you alive and healthy, what they required of you was something that didn´t need chakra and you only had an ability with those characteristics and Itachi knew it because, in two of the missions you had done with him, you had to use it.

Nervously you bit your thumb nail, it was true that all the possibilities you were contemplating altered you but at the same time you were somehow calmer, if they only wanted you for that ability, it was that the reason for your kidnapping had nothing to do with Naruto and that you are family was just a coincidence, that was good, on the other hand, anything that needed the use of your hereditary ability was not good, the things that were hidden or locked behind barriers, were there for some reason.

Even if your life was not in danger at the moment, not being able to use your chakra was a problem and surely in the future you would need it, so you had to find the source of the problem.

The only other thing they had given you was the haori you were wearing, you took it off and looked at the cloth, leaving it far from you, you tried to use some technique again, the simplest one you could think of, walking on the wall. You weren't even able to set foot on it, so that wasn't it either.

You thought that maybe it was the place, that mountain, but it was impossible because you had seen Itachi use his sharingan without problem, it had to be something else, something was making you unable to use your chakra and you were going to find it.

You walked down the corridor, several times walking the small path between the exit to the precipice and your room, the place was small, the only rooms were your room and on one side before reaching the exit the place where you cooked, it was small and there was firewood and some kitchen utensils, you moved each and every object, you checked the firewood and even some food stored in a box, one by one and taking care to leave it exactly as you had found it but there was nothing or so you believed until that when trying to put one of the logs for firewood in place, you stumbled and instead of hitting a wall you ended up in another hallway. Puzzled by the discovery, you went deeper into the hall, feeling the cold hard wall with each step, thus trying to guide you through the darkness.

Orienting yourself in unfamiliar spaces was not your forte and despite being part of ANBU spying was not your thing either, even if it was in harmless situations or by mistake, it was something you had never been able to do and many times it had ended in embarrassing situations.

This was supposed to be a birthday party, but the birthday girl hadn't been anywhere for 20 minutes, although nobody seemed to care much, you took a last bite of your piece of cake and got up.

-I'm going to the bathroom-you warned the rest of the guests sitting at the table and somewhat dizzy from the ingested alcohol you walked to the women's toilet, you weren't drunk because you hadn't drunk so much but the alcohol always left you feeling sick that it made you wonder why you drank.

When you got to the women's restroom the door was closed from the inside, you knocked several times but you didn't get an answer, so your mind told you that it was a better idea to use the men's one, the door wasn't closed, you pushed a little but you stopped at identify what was happening inside, Kurenai was against the wall and Asuma between her legs, your eyes shot open and the dizziness you had felt disappeared, you wanted to turn and go but you had stood there, if they saw you they would think you were a pervert , you had to move your legs and walk away but that did not happen, your feet had been nailed to the ground and you could not look away, until you felt a brush on your ear and suddenly a voice-Do you like what you see?

With your face red and your legs trembling with fright, you turned around and your back collided with the wall next to the door when you met Kakashi, his hand resting on the wall, pinning you against his body, he looked at you with amusement, with a sparkle in his eyes as if he had just discovered a lost land, while you remained red-faced, trying not to look at his face, you were eaten by shame.

-I ... I wasn't ...

"I didn't expect you to like this kind of thing," he said again in your ear, making a chill run down your back, unconsciously you leaned into his voice, getting closer to his mouth.

-I don't like it-you protested-it was by mistake, the women's restroom was ...- You tried to explain yourself but you stopped when you saw how the man who had you trapped discovered his sharingan and looked at you with both uncovered eyes.

"Go on," he said with a tone of amusement in his voice.

-What are you doing?

-It's really entertaining to see you so embarrassed, your face right now is almost as red as my eye.

-Is this something you want to record in your memory? -Kakashi nodded and you reddened more, looking away and hitting his chest as a complaint -It's not funny that you remember me as a pervert, you are the pervert.

-Well, at least I don´t hide it, I carry it with pride -the tone of amusement didn´t leave his voice, but the slight blush on the piece of skin that was revealed indicated that he felt some shame, although he tried to pretend not to continue teasing you.

-Say what you want-squeezing your own cheeks to make sure you weren't burning, you tried to walk away but with his free hand he pushed you against the wall.

-Let's wait for them to finish

-YOU ARE A PERVERT -You yelled indignantly but when you heard the bathroom door open giving way to the other two ninja, you hid your head in his chest, trying in vain not to be seen.

"It's our turn," murmured the man who was now holding you against him, starting to walk, pushing you both into the bathroom.

You shook your head, trying to get that out of your mind, suddenly your face had started to burn at that memory, you rubbed your cheeks and sighed, it was not the time to think about it.

You had already checked three of the rooms you had found and there was nothing, they were practically empty except for the beds and some bookshelves, but nobody seemed to have used them in quite some time, you thought that you were not going to find anything until you got to the room further away in the hallway.

The room was completely dark but you could see that it was occupied, there was an unmade bed, the sheets were thrown back, it smelled of burnt candles and on the shelves there were things, you went to the first one, just some books, you moved them trying to find something but there was nothing, straining your eyes, you could read the titles, it was literature, some poetry books and some novel, nothing remarkable. It didn´t surprise you much since even though those two were criminals, they were still people and you supposed that they would have their particular tastes.

You felt the wood of the furniture in case you left something but there was nothing, you went to the next shelf, in this there was also a book, but there seemed to be more personal objects, a notebook, it had stripes on the cover, you took it but when doing it, something fell from the pages, two photographs.

In one of the images, two boys in pre-adolescence, you tried to distinguish their faces and quickly you distinguished one of them, Itachi, that must be his room.

You did not recognize the other boy but from his features you assumed that he was also an Uchiha, in the next photo you recognized the two children, again Itachi, with a cat between his arms and the other smaller child, with his small hand squeezing Itachi's shirt, it was Sasuke, the boy had an expression so different from what you were used to, a cheerful smile and flushed cheeks.

A strange feeling took hold of your chest, you felt like someone was squeezing it, you opened the notebook and there were more photos inside, in the academy, with the boy in the first photo, with Sasuke as a baby, playing together, eating dango with a girl that you recognized as Izumi, training, with her parents ... you did not know when you had started to cry and you did not realize until one of your tears fell on the sheets of the notebook and you quickly left it in his place, your lower lip trembled and tears kept falling, why a ruthless killer was going to keep all those memories ?, it was not a forgotten book, the notebook was very visible and clean, without a speck of dust, that meant that it was seen often, was it possible that perhaps Uchiha Itachi regretted what he had done?

Forgetting what you had gone there to do and with the tightness in your chest still present you decided to leave the room but a few steps down the hall paralyzed you, you had forgotten that Itachi and Kisame would return at any moment, not knowing what to do you hid behind one of the shelves, you dried your tears and covered your mouth, trying to block any sound that could come out of your body, the steps getting closer until they reached the entrance of the room, you heard Kisame's voice say something you did not understand very well And then Itachi came into the room, all the candles lit suddenly, letting you see the man, he seemed calm so surely they had not checked your room.

The man walked around the room, stumbling several times on some things that were on the floor, curious because of this you peeked a bit from your hiding place, Itachi used his hands to lean on the first shelf and you could hear a loud sigh, his eyes closed, he took off the robe he was wearing, revealing black clothing, similar to the one you had seen him wear when he was still in Konoha. The next thing you saw stumped you. He walked to the bed and stumbled again, this time dropping to his knees on the floor, you didn´t understand what was happening, why did he stumble on things that could easily be avoided? Itachi stayed in that position for several minutes, until he finally started hitting the hard stone floor with his fist until his knuckles bled, then, with his fist still filled with blood, he rubbed his eyes, staining his face with the red liquid that It was mixed with the tears he was dropping, the only thing that came out of his mouth were sounds of frustration that shrunk your heart, he was suffering.

The sounds and the continuous blows on the floor, together with the smell of blood and candles were making you nauseous, you couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know if having seen those photos and the state the man was in had affected you emotionally or maybe it was just that you wanted to stop the nausea, but you didn't have a logical explanation for what you did.

Your arms wrapped around his body , stopping the punches, the sobs and the sounds of frustration, his eyes wide with surprise “stop please” it was the only thing you said, you expected him to push you away, to do something for getting into his room but he didn't move. He didn´t return the hug but leaned on you, with his forehead resting on your shoulder and your arms squeezing him, you felt his breathing, heat, weight and smell on you, flooding all your senses, nullifying any logical and rational thought, the only thing that happened in your mind was a small voice telling you that it wasfine, that it was correct.

#Itachi x reader #Uchiha Itachi #Kakashi x reader #Hatake Kakashi #Naruto #Fanfic #Scenario

89 notes · View notes

madneywhre · 4 years

Text

The Misfits

Hi! So I am currently writing a highschool AU called The Misfits. It is about the BAU as teenagers. Going through four of the roughest years of their lives. Highschool sucks for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Rolling with the punches of life and high school, these students find solace in each other. Anyways! It continues after the break

CW! Mentions of mental abuse, emotional neglect, physical abuse, suicide, and homophobic slurs.

---

Spencer woke up early… way too early, but he was excited. This was his first day of highschool. Sure, he was at least five years younger than everyone in his grade, but he was ready. His mother on the other hand was not. She hadn’t moved out of her room in three days. He walked into the room and went over to her bed.

“Good Morning Mama, I start high school today.” He says seeing that she was awake and reading. She looked at him and back at her book without saying a word, he realized that she was too far gone to respond right now. He walked out of the room sadly, going to the kitchen to look for food of some sort. He had become used to doing things by himself, adapting to the new changes. His dad had left six months earlier, which only worsened his mother's downward spiral. Spencer wanted his mom to get him ready for his first day: to cook him breakfast, pack his lunch, maybe even do the cheesy pictures that other moms did. But not Diana. No. Never Diana. Electronics were evil, from the government. His dad had bought him a phone and paid the bill; the only thing he did. Not that he ever answered Spencer's attempts to reach out but it was nice to have though, just in case.

After standing on plenty of stools, Spencer decided on poptarts. He popped the strawberry pastries in the toaster and shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking as he waited for the poptarts to become warm and toasty. His mind wandered to a time two years ago, his first day of middle school. His mom was still lucid then, she had made him breakfast and read to him. He was only seven then,he was nine now; always was smart for his age. It wasn’t easy to be the youngest in the grade. He got jostled around a lot and took a lot of elbows to the nose, but he was used to it. He was also used to the looks he got when he did the advanced work in class,the looks of doubt. He hated them. His attention popped back to the pastries when they sprung up in the toaster. He jumped before realizing what had just happened. He pulled them out and hissed at the heat, dropping them onto a paper towel. He sat and ate, allowing his mind to wander again. Remembering his mom before she went down hill. Before he was forced into being his own parent, he was already expected to be an adult.He just wanted to be cared for, like most kids did,he was only nine after all. Sure, he was in highschool, but he was still little. He still wanted the crutch of his mom and dad. He wanted to be held. When he went into his mom’s room earlier, he had hoped for her to scoop him up and give him a kiss on the forehead, and read some poetry to him. Or even just talk to him. Just be a human, and she would, in time…

After he finished eating, he had to rush to get dressed. Trying his best not to think about the fact that he had to walk the five and a half miles to school. He was too young to sign himself up for the school bus, obviously too young to drive, and on top of that he didn’t have anyone to carpool with. He rushed into his room and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks, his old striped comfort sweater, and his tennis shoes. The only reason he wore a sweater was because it helped calm him down when he was having sensory issues, though he was always cold. Probably from the lack of vitamins in his diet. He rushed to pack his lunch, not able to find his old lunch bag, so he used a grocery sack. He remembered when his dad would pack his lunch and he lost some composure. Small tears stinging at the corners of his eye, a lump rising in his throat, the building pressure behind his nose. He pushed it all down, while making a sloppy PB and J and throwing a sleeve of Saltines into the sack. He called it a day and got his bag, shoving his lunch in the torn backpack. He walked out of the door and started the trek to school, getting to watch the sunrise. The purples made a small smile peak at his cheeks, the pinks mixing with the oranges made his chest feel warm. His hands flapped happily and he walked with a small bounce in his step. Sweat already starting to bead at his forehead.

It took him an hour and a half, but he got to the school in enough time to get his schedule. He knew that he was assigned a guide for the first day, just to help him around the school because he was so young. Spencer walked into the main office, and didn’t even clear the top of the counter, his messy curls peeking up from behind it.

“Um, excuse me. I need to get my schedule.” He said in a squeaky voice.

“Okay honey, just come right around here.” The nice secretary lady said. Her name plate read Alex Blake.

The small boy walked around to her side of the counter and smiled at her. “I’m Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D.” He said confidently, trying to show that he belonged here.

“Oh the youngin. Okay honey, your freshman guide is Aaron Hotchner. He is a Junior. You guys surprisingly have a similar schedule, so stick with him. Let me know if you need anything.” She said, pointing him over to a tall ravenette man.

He walked over, and in a small voice approached him. “Hi, I’m Spencer, your freshman. I need my schedule, please.” He said with a squeak, his voice rising in pitch because he was nervous.

“Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II.” He said without looking at the kid. He handed him his schedule and held back a gasp. “How old are you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Spencer wasn’t surprised this was one of the first questions. He had become used to this. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.” He liked how that had worked. So far, this hadn’t sucked.

…

Jennifer had woken up hours earlier, going on a run before school. She did her best to stay in shape during her off season, still allowing herself to indulge in normal teenage things from time to time. WIthin the three hours she had been awake, the young woman had already worked out and showered, standing in front of her mirror, looking at the shell of the person she once was. Tired, dark bags fell under her eyes, her face puffy from the long nights spent crying herself to sleep. Her sister had died seven months ago. Her sister's room had been left untouched, besides the clothes that she had taken from her closet. She would sleep in her sister's hoodie, only to put it back the next day so it wouldn’t lose her smell. Her death hit her harder than she let on. She had slowly started to become numb inside, forcing a smile only around her parents and friends. Everytime she passed her sister's bedroom a small piece of her heart would break again.

Today was supposed to be the day her older sister started Senior year. They were going to be in school together for one year. Their year. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. Refusing to let tears fall from her eyes once more. She felt so broken and weak, though everyone told her it was normal. It would probably be easier if everywhere she turned Rosalyn wasn’t staring back at her. Her door being open, a crack, her shampoo bottle, the untouched toothbrush. Everywhere Jennifer looked she saw her dead sister. She refused to shower in the bathtub after finding her sister in it. She tried… once. It ended with her shaking and crying in the tub, her mom having to turn off the water and pick her up. Since then she barely walked into that bathroom. She blinked, being brought back to reality. She puts on a burnt red dress with paisley print on it, paired with simple white shoes. She brushed through her hair, and tied it up, a ribbon lacing around the ponytail. She had opted for a softer sense of style. Mainly to portray the happiness she longed to feel.

She soon walked downstairs, greeted by her mother. Her father was already at work, having seemed burying himself in it since the death. Her mom was the American Dream of a mother: supportive, stay at home mom that cooks breakfast and dinner. She loved her mom, though she wished she saw her break down just once. Not just act like everything was okay.

“Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?” Sandy asked cheerfully.

Jennifer looked at her and put on the fake smile that had an all too comfortable home on her face. “Good morning, Mom. I slept well. What’s for breakfast?” She asked in a happy voice.

“French toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, and orange juice.” She answered, setting a plate of food in front of her. Sandy was sweet, really. And Jennifer appreciated her so much for the things she did.

Jennifer's eyes lit up when the food was sat in front of her. She took a sip of her orange juice and smiled at her mom. “Thank you Mama. It looks really good.”

Sandy smiled softly, living to see the smile of her daughter. It broke her when Rosalyn killed herself. She never let Jennifer see how it hurt her. She had to be strong for her daughter, keep her afloat too. She would cry when Jennifer wasn’t around. Sitting on the rug of her eldest’s floor, her smell enveloping her as she sobbed into it. Blaming herself for not seeing the warning signs of her daughter's depression. The withdrawal, the sudden “I love you’s’, soon to be followed by long hugs.

Both ladies had happy, light conversations until it was time to leave for school. The time Jennifer was dreading. Sandy drove her happily, happy to see her daughter entering such a crucial time in her life. Reminding her not to forget that she had volleyball practice after school. After multiple rounds of I love yous and goodbyes, Jennifer walked into the school. She walked to the Secretary and was assigned her Freshman Guide. Emily Prentiss. Jennifer shrugged it off until she saw the other female. The blonde had known that she liked girls, coming to terms with it over the summer, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Emily was gorgeous. She had a totally opposite look of the younger woman. Tall, pale, dark haired beauty. Jennifer felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘Keep it together Jareau!’ She thought to herself.

“So you’re the freshie I have. Good to know. I’m Emily.” She said with a nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” she said with a squeak in her voice that she swallowed.

“I’m gonna call you JJ. Fits you better. Here’s your schedule. Try to keep up.” She says handing her it and walking off.

JJ. She liked it. She made a mental note of it. From this day forward she was JJ.

…

Penelope has already been up for hours. Grooming herself to look perfect for the first day. She wanted to make sure everyone knew who Penelope Garcia was,though she wished her last name fit her better. During roll call she always had to explain that she was, in fact, Penelope Garcia. She had buried her feelings with her parents. Six feet under. After her parents died, she moved to Virginia and moved in with her mom’s best friend, of whom she thought of, and called her aunt. This was the first year she wanted to be back in school,the previous year she opted to do homeschooling. She didn’t want to be around anyone, but she decided that this year would be different. She would push herself to be happy. She was going to force herself into her old happy persona. Maybe it would start to feel real to her again. Though the issue wasn’t that she was sad, it was that she wouldn’t allow herself to be. She felt the need to be happy all the time. Show everyone how strong she is. That was except for one person, Derek Morgan. He was the next door neighbor's son. Her aunt had set her up to hang out with him because they had one thing in common: a dead parent. They had hit it off. He would come over and just talk to her some days when she was having a bad day, sitting out in a tree that she thought was secluded, until Derek came up. She was crying and he let her cry on his shoulder. He told her that it would all feel better soon. That it would take time. And from that moment forward, they were best friends. Soon morphing into more. This summer they had made it official.

Penelope smelled the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes through the air and followed it downstairs. Greeting her aunt with a bubbly smile. “Good morning Alyssa! It smells amazing!” She complemented. They both sat and ate, light conversation flowing between them. She received the text that Derek was ready, finally home and showered from his football practice.

“Goodbye Alyssa. Derek is gonna drive me to school today. Love you!” She called out from the doorway. Her black skirt ruffling up in the breeze.

“Have a good day Pen!” She called back, the screen door slamming in response.

Penelope walked over to Derek’s house, knocking on the door. He greets her with a toothy smile. “Good morning baby girl” He says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he walked out to his car with her. They had been dating for about four months, though they had been pining for at least eight months.

“Good morning handsome. Are you ready for sophomore year?” She asked, smiling at the male. He always held her hand while they drove. He could drive early because he had a birthday that fell early in the year.

“Of course I am, are you? I know how hard this is. Especially since you’re new.”

“I’m ready. I’m just gonna take this year by the horns, no one knows me, no one knows what happened. No one knows my past. All they know is I’m the new girl. That's all they need to know.” She says matter of factly.

Derek looked over at her and smiled. “Okay, but remember. I understand, and I am always here. No matter what, no matter how bad you think it is. I’m in your corner.”

Penelope blushed softly, “Thank you… I know.”

After ten minutes they pull up to the school. Penelope took a deep breath and swallowed. Smoothing out her pink top. She looked cute, really. Pink top, black skirt, white shoes. Though, her and Derek looked out of place together.

She looks over at him and smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “Lets go kick ass.”

Derek let out a nice hearty laugh and rolled his eyes, “Lets go kick ass.”

They walked into the school, hand in hand, smiles on both of their faces, like nothing could ruin their happy high,

…

Five a.m always came too early in Derek’s opinion. Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he threw on his practice uniform and grabbed his equipment bag, heading to the field. When he arrived, he ran his five laps around the field and then drank water, heading out to practice. Three long hours later he was dripping sweat, putting away his cleats.

One of his teammates comes over to him, “Yo Morgan, you coming out to breakfast with the team? We’re going to IHop before school. It’s a tradition.”

“Nah man, I’m good. Thank you though.” Derek said, not wanting to give an explanation to why.

“Come one man! It’s tradition! It's your first year on varsity, just give me a good reason why, and I will leave you alone. Just one good, legitimate reason why.”

“I’m… I’m picking up my girl okay? It’s her first day here, and I promised her I would pick her up and drive her. Chill?”

“Show me a picture of ‘your girl’ and I’ll leave it be. Lady Man Morgan.” He teased, pushing his shoulder.

Derek pulled out his phone and showed him his lockscreen, him and Penelope together, Her head resting on his chest. There was a significant height difference between the pair. “That's my girl. Her name is Penelope, but I call her Pen.” He boasts, until he hears a scoff and a chuckle. Who did this kid think he was?

“Oh, THAT’S your girl. Dude just skip her. She ain’t cute anyways.”

Derek felt a small bubble of anger rise in his chest, “Watch what you say, that’s my girl. You right, she ain’t cute, she is beautiful. I can’t see what would make you think otherwise McClellan.” He replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? The ELEPHANT in the room… Well picture I guess.” He added snarkily. Of course he was talking about her weight, most people did. It always pissed Derek off in public, when people would see them at dinner and stare at her. Making comments about her or what she was eating.

Derek glared at him, “Oh… so you’re that type of asshole. Okay, well be sure to never invite me anywhere with you again. I would much rather hang out with my girlfriend. She is gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, and stronger than you would ever be.” He spat, turning away and texting her. ‘Good morning, gorgeous. I hope you slept well, I just got out of practice. Will be ready to go at 9:00’

She responded almost immediately, like normal. ‘Good morning babe :), I slept amazing, I’ll meet you at your front door.’

Derek smiled and put his phone away, driving home. Greeted by his two older sisters in the kitchen, Desiree and Sarah. They basically raised him. His mom was always busy working as a nurse at the hospital, and his dad died in Chicago when he was ten. It was still hard, even after six years. Big dates always reminds him of the lack of a father. The first day was no different. His fifth grade year was his last first day with his dad. His dad would always make chocolate chip waffles and give him a pep talk. Tell him to be good, make sure he was always kind, and then kiss his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He missed it every year.

Desiree tried to keep the tradition of chocolate chip waffles alive, trying to keep their dad alive with the memories. “Der! I made waffles for you, for after you shower. Please shower first. You smell like sweaty boy and feet.” She called from the kitchen, not even seeing him yet.

Derek just laughs in response and goes upstairs getting ready for the day. He looks in the mirror and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Dad, I promise this year I am going to do my best in school, I’m going to stay out of trouble, and I’m always going to be kind. I gotta girlfriend this year. You would love her pops. She’s feisty, she’s so smart and kind. Her folks are gone too. Maybe you know them… maybe not. I don’t know how it works, but I gotta go pops. I love you.” He said into the mirror. Sometimes he would talk to the picture of his dad that he hung on his mirror, looking himself in the eyes. He found it helped on the hard days.

He walked downstairs and smiled when he smelled the waffles, “You guys are the best!” He commented through a mouthful of hot waffle. Light banter flows between the siblings, followed by hugs. Derek leaves when Penelope walks over to his house, hearing her humming something before she even knocks at the door. He smiles widely at her, she looked pretty today. He always had thought she was pretty, even when they had first met. “Good morning, baby girl!” He greeted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could secretly get a smell of her perfume. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla, or cake.

The two drove to school, Derek holding her hand the entire time. They hadn’t kissed or anything yet. Just hand holding, they had cuddled while watching movies, but they both didn’t want to hurt the other. Derek knew she wasn’t in the best state, so he was always her best friend first, boyfriend came second.

He looks over at her and smiles when she says, “Let’s kick ass.” “Let’s kick ass.”

…

Emily woke up bright and early, dealing with her mother. Of course, today of all days she had to be home. She woke up to her light being flipped on, “Emily! Get out of bed, it is six in the morning. You have school today!” Her mother said, her voice raised.

“Mother. It’s six. School starts at NINE FIFTEEN.” She said, her pillow now over her eyes, “Leave me alone.” She groans

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you have two minutes to get out of bed before I pour water on you. Now. And look presentable.” She commands, the door slamming shut with her exit.

Emily groaned and got out of her bed, her dark messy curls falling over her eyes. She lets out an annoyed huff and throws her hair into a messy ponytail and walks to the bathroom. She washes her face and then goes into her room, pulling out an outfit. Fishnet tights, ripped jeans, cuffed of course, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt, and a band tee over it. She slipped on her Doc’s and an assortment of chains. Her mom always hated how she looked, how she dressed. It started out as a way to piss her mom off, show her that she isn’t some political figure. She never would be. She sat down at her vanity to do her makeup, she favored dark colors, purples and blacks mainly. She smiled as she winged her eyeliner, it came out perfectly. The raven headed girl decided to go downstairs, drink some coffee. Maybe it would make her feel better.

When she got downstairs her mother audibly gasped, “Emily! You look like the grim reaper's wife!”

Emily looked at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet and getting the items to make her coffee, pouring the cream into the bottom of a tumbler filled with ice, pouring the hot coffee over it. “As long as SHE is pretty, I’ll take it,” She mouthed, knowing her mother hated her sexuality. She often told her it was a phase, just a rebellion.

Elizabeth dropped the spoon she was using to eat her oats, “Emily, you and I both know that you’re just rebelling. Don’t talk that homosexual talk in this household. It’s dirty and imperfect. We’re Prentiss’ we don’t do those things.”

The teen looked at her and scoffed, her heart dropping. She took it, always did, always would. Though she would never show her mother the pain she caused; she would never let her win. The second that Emily showed any trace of hurt, she would win. Emily translated that to her normal social life. Always making herself look like a hardass, scaring everyone around her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, or else her mother would use it, and treat it like a weakness. Emily was always a pawn in her mother's political games. She knew it.

Emily had let the stress get to her, taking the coffee upstairs, she dug in her bedside drawer to grab her old friend. She would smoke weed whenever she needed to relax, whenever her life seemed like too much. She was high most of the time. She normally used a dab pen, though sometimes she would use a (joint/blunt). She never used bongs, she held herself higher than that. She put the pen to her mouth and inhaled. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hold…. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated this process a couple of times, feeling the buzz of more vapor in her lungs than air, knowing that's her sign to stop. She could longboard to school now. Forget about the rest of her problems momentarily. Though, it was less than ideal to do in her boots.

She goes downstairs, and thankfully her mother is gone. She said her goodbyes to her nanny, Amanda, and walked out the front door with her long board in one hand, her backpack on, and her music blaring in her ears. She would listen to a mix of most everything. Sometimes it was screamo, sometimes it was soft pop. Today it was her love playlist. She liked to imagine herself riding alongside a pretty girl, holding her hand as they skated together. She pushed the two miles to school, arriving early anyways. She makes a beeline for the secretary. She had become close to her the previous school year after Blake found her crying in the bathroom because of her mother. The vile names she had spit at her. Ever since then she had become a confidant.

“Blake! You will not believe what happened. Ugh! It was so fucking, sorry, freaking stupid!” She huffed, pulling a chair besides her desk.

“Well, good morning to you too Emily. What happened?” She asked, holding back a laugh

“Well for starters, my mother was home. That in and of itself is horrible. Then she wakes me up at six this morning, demanding I get up and dressed. So I did. But THAT wasn’t good enough for her either, now was it?” She spat angrily, her hands tapping on her leg that was bouncing up and down, anxiety still very obviously present.

“Oh… wow. She said something about your clothes didn’t she?”

“OF COURSE she did. Because GOD FORBID her precious little perfect angel. She said something about me looking like the Grim Reaper’s wife. So I said as long as SHE is pretty, I don’t care. That thoroughly pissed her off. It’s like she just doesn’t care. I’m not her perfect little girl, and she can’t use me, so she decides that I’m just not good enough. All A’s and on honor roll, not to mention the advanced classes. But THAT'S not good enough.” She ranted, the older woman listening, nodding her head and adding small affirmatives.

“I’m sorry that she is like that. I think that your outfit is quite cool, and she has no reason to get mad at you over that. It is your sexuality, and you can’t control who you like. I wish I could help you, but from what I’ve heard, she isn’t around much, and your nanny is pretty accepting.”

Emily nodded, taking a ragged breath, “You’re right… I better shut up, there is a freshman” Emily says, seeing a blonde girl walk in. She looked like that Junior that committed suicide. Shit. That was her sister. She was gorgeous, unique looking. She was soft. Her hair framing her angular face perfectly. She was just beautiful. Emily honestly forgot to breathe for a moment, letting her face turn a rosy color before realizing what she was doing. She shook her head and got up, walking behind the desk, over to distract herself.

It took about ten minutes, but Alex came over to Emily, presenting her with the freshman. Her mind started to race, the pretty girl standing in front of her, leaving her speechless. She soon heard that her name was Jennifer. JJ… It fit. It was soft enough to be spoken with the utmost love, but also to be called carelessly. She made it known too.

“I’m gonna call you JJ, it fits you better. Here’s your schedule, try to keep up.” She spoke back, trying so hard not to turn into a pile of mush in front of her. She turned on her heels and walked fastly in the other direction, making sure no one could see the radiant smile painted on her face.

…

Aaron woke up at 5:30, making sure he had enough time to get breakfast ready for his mother and his little brother. He had always made sure to step up, wanting to make the house a more peaceful place. His dad had begun taking his rough days and frustrations out on Aaron, soon becoming more than just yelling. The young boy made sure to keep his brother and mother safe, taking the brunt of the abuse. His father died when he was fourteen, and he had a wave of relief crash over him. He knew that he didn’t have to take the abuse any longer, he didn’t have to wait until his father went to sleep to do things because he was afraid of getting thrown against the wall. He didn’t have to step in between his mother and his father, letting the punches land on his body. The first time his father ever hit Sean was the day Aaron knew he wasn’t able to be a kid. He grew up extremely fast, acting and talking like an adult from the age of eight. He had never learned how to be a kid. He never knew how to play with other kids. And that would come to affect him. He was always seen as the hardass, from the clothes he would wear, to the way he talked. He was always more mature, not laughing at the jokes his classmates would tell, not really having many friends. He always stuck up for everyone though. He would see freshmen being made fun of by upperclassmen and he would make sure he put a stop to it.

The ravenette would make his family breakfast everyday, today he was making them french toast and eggs. He saw a very sleepy looking Sean bound down the hallway, his hair a sleep ridden mess. “Good morning, breakfast is on the table. I need to go get ready for school. You have forty five minutes to eat and get dressed. I’m walking you to the bus stop this morning.” He said leaving the room, running into his mother in the hallway. “Good morning mama, breakfast is on the table. Have a good day at work.”

The male got into the shower quickly, rushing to get ready. He pulled on a pair of khakis and a green polo shirt, looking like a dad about to go golfing. He chuckled and rolled his eyes at his reflection, smoothing out his hair. He looked at his phone and realized that he needed to get a move on. He took Sean to the bus stop, walking back for his friend, Dave Rossi to pick him up. Dave and him had been friends since elementary school, seeking solace in each other. He was the stability that Dave needed, and Dave was the rebellion he needed. The man pulled up in his classic convertible. Aaron climbed into the front seat, relaxing into the leather.

“Hey Dave, thanks for picking me up.” He piped up with a small smile.

“Aaron! It’s no issue. How is Sean and Amanda?”

“Oh, they’re good. Sean misses you, he keeps asking me when you’re coming over again. Mom misses you too.”

Dave smiled at him and hummed in response, “I’ll have to come over one night for dinner” He said, pulling into the school. It was a short drive, but it was one that was well worth the gas.

Aaron walked into the school building and met with Blake, getting introduced with his freshman. Spencer Reid. When he saw the boy he was confused, he looked like a child. “Hi, I’m Aaron. What’s your name?”

“Spencer, I’m your freshman. I need my schedule.” He squeaked out. Damn he even sounded young.

Aaron was puzzled. How old was this kid? “Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II. How old are you?” He asked, his voice lower in pitch.

Spencer looked up at him. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.”

Aaron looked at him, keeping his face in a calm manner. Nine. He was nine in high school. He knew that he needed to protect him. He was an easy target. He led the boy to their first hour, showing him the ropes. Maybe this year wouldn’t be terrible.

…

David woke up to the smell of food cooking. This was new. Normally he was home alone. He used to have his nanny Laura around, but when he started highschool his parents decided he was old enough to stay home without constant supervision. He missed the company though, seeing as how they had grown a nice friendship in the time. He wandered downstairs and saw his parents in the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. They were home… For the first time in at least a month.

“Ma! Pa!” He greeted from the doorway, soon walking into the kitchen. He felt a warm bubble of happiness in his chest, something he felt less and less. The young man was lonely to say the least. He never had his parents around as a kid. He was always being handed around from nanny to butler, his parents deciding to buy his love instead. It started with nice toys, soon turning to electronics, and then a car. He was spoiled, but not on his own accord. He knew that his parents felt guilty for how they were absent in his life.

“Bambino!” His father greets, kissing the side of his head obnoxiously like the Italian father he was. Though the warmth of the moment was short lived when his phone rang, calling both him and Mrs. Rossi into work. Dave sighed, knowing that no arguing or sadness could help his case.

Dave sat in silence, eating the eggs his dad had made for him. He put his dirty dishes in the sink rinsing them off to make his job easier for later. Even though he had people to do these things for him, he insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t that lazy. He knew that he would be on his own, so he figured he needed to know those basic life skills. He did get to learn some things from his friend Aaron. Aaron and him had been friends since fourth grade, despite the social classes. He thought of Aaron like an older brother, though they were the same age. He needed the responsibility and boundaries the other male had, craving that himself.

Dave walked upstairs, getting ready for the day. A hot shower, followed by jeans, a white tee-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair messily fluffed to the side. He went for a Greaser esc style. He packed his bag, soon going out to his car to pick Aaron up. He felt bad for the man because he didn’t drive yet, he was too busy to deal with minimal things. Or that is what he said. When he got to the males house, he smiled warmly. He was so alone at home, any interaction made him happy. When Aaron told him Sean missed him his heart swelled. Dave was an only child. He always loved children, being around them, playing or talking to them, coloring, really anything they wanted. He thought of the Hotchner family as his family away from home. Amanda being around more than his mother ever was.

Dave pulled into the school at 7:15, leaving time to screw around before his first hour. His grades never suffered from his antics. He felt himself slipping into the persona of David Rossi, the class clown. He acted different at school, making himself overly obnoxious, trying to be funny because he wanted acceptance. Was that really too much to ask?

#spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #criminal minds au #high school au #themisfits

45 notes · View notes

troglobite · 3 years

Text

i filled out a survey abt being a grad student at my university

and it was poorly done bc at no point did they consider WHERE i was geographically, and despite knowing that i’m in the english program they fucking asked me about fucking like. scientific research. and conducting studies.

and also just like. asking questions that need a nuanced answer

“do faculty&admin in your dept treat students with respect?”

well, let’s consider: 1. the professor who has been my cheerleader through everything and is on my committee 2. the professor also on my committee who agreed to do so despite never meeting me bc she’s kind, and has been supportive and forthcoming abt working w my weird situation 3. the admin woman upon whom we ALL rely bc she’s kind and quick and smart and good at her job 4. the interim dgs from last semester who was really kind in speaking to me 5. the prof i’m grading for now who’s professional, kind, smart, a good prof to her students, and gives us a reasonable workload and goes out of her way to make sure we know what we’re doing

and let’s also consider: 1. that first prof’s husband who’s been a condescending and mildly bigoted jerk to a lot of students 2. the woman who was GOING to be on my committee but turns out she actually fucking HATES me and treated me like SHIT in the ONE class i took with her 3. the woman i TAed for last semester who was a bigot, extremely unprofessional, extremely cruel to her students behind her back, and really gave no thought to our workload or our concerns--and also deliberately and knowingly treated me worse bc i was trans 4. other profs that i’ve heard abt, including one that a friend is TAing for, who micromanages her work, badmouths her, insults her to her face, and uses the students in the class to SPY on her

and then let’s also consider: 1. number one from the last list being petty enough to run a Native prof out of the dept bc of a totally normal reasonable request 2. the poetry prof who’s involved w equity diversity and inclusion work that i took a class with who’s pretty kind, but also occasionally just says shit that sucks ass and gives recommendations to students (me) that are??? really insensitive and weird??? 3. the actual dgs who’s like, mostly professional and really dedicated to creating good dept-wide events and info mtgs for students, but completely fucking sucks ass at working with individual students and talks over them all the time but is still okay at his job???

like. i cannot give a yes or no answer to that question, you piece of shit survey.

anyway i actually came here to make a post about this:

part of the survey inquired about your physical mental and emotional health

and there was that typical section that was like, “out of the last two weeks, please rate how often you have felt these ways”

afraid, anxious, can’t stop worrying, finding little to no joy in anything, feeling hopeless, feeling isolated, etc.

normally, when i fill out these surveys and i think about it, i rate them “a few days” or “rarely” or whatever

this is the first survey i’ve taken in a while that’s had these questions and you wanna know what i rated every single one of them?

“nearly every single day”

and that’s the fucking truth. i’m losing sleep, i have no energy, i can’t focus, i’m constantly overwhelmed and anxious, i cry at the drop of a hat, i’m losing my FUCKING mind and i’m so fucking tired. i’m just tired. i’m burnt out and exhausted and i want off this fucking ride.

and they were like “here are some on-campus resources if you need help”

and again i’m like MOTHERFUCKER I’M IN A DIFFERENT FUCKING STATE DOING ALL OF THIS REMOTELY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP

anyway i’m fine

1 note · View note

hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Ménage (11/13ish)

SFW. Injuries, healing, rest.

@janitor-boy @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @yogsathot @dilfyjuice

Enjoy! ~

For a moment, Dewey didn’t quite realize what had happened. He saw Molly run toward the angel, her hand dark with something, speaking words he couldn’t decipher over the ringing in his ears, and then a searing light like a bursting star filled the room. Then, silence. He gasped, air rushing back into his lungs as the choking pressure around his throat was suddenly gone, and through the purple spots in his vision. he saw the angel was gone as well.

Molly looked over at Dewey, who despite gasping for air, looked as if he would be alright; a shaky thumbs' up confirmed that he was unhurt aside for the burns around his neck. Nodding, she got to her feet, grabbing the bowl and dipping her fingers into it again. Methodically, she painted the dark mixture on every doorway, every window, effectively creating a seal around her home so that the angel couldn’t return.

When that was done, the empty bowl slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor as she knelt beside the two of them. Dark blood stained her hands, dotted the back of her shirt, and there was drywall powder in her hair, but all she saw was them, all she felt was relief that they were okay. And, she noticed with a smile, Dewey hadn’t let go of Beej’s hand.

The angel sat up, checking himself over; his throat hurt, but other than that, he just felt a little bruised. Molly began smearing a dark substance on the doorframes, the sills of the blown-out windows, and he turned to Beetlejuice, recognizing the dark substance spattered around him to be blood.

"You okay?" he rasped, squeezing the demon's hand.

Molly soon returned, and he realized what she had done. He could smell the blood on her hands. The angel couldn't return. For now, they were safe. Dewey felt weak with relief, though his brow furrowed with concern when he noticed that not all of the blood was Beetlejuice's. Dewey scrambled up to his knees, ignoring the ache in his back as he did so, joining Molly at Beetlejuice’s side.

"You're both still bleeding…"

Slowly coming around, Beetlejuice realized Dewey hadn't released his hand, and when Molly returned she took his other one again. It was something else to focus on besides his face feeling like it was burned from the ill-advised attempt to bite the angel, his chest feeling like it was slowly inflating back into place, and the generalized agony of that came from some of his shadow mass being torn from him.

He also became slowly aware he tasted blood in his mouth, but it wasn't until Dewey actually said the words, "You're both bleeding" that he realized blood was pouring out of his nose.

His first concern at that statement was Molly, however, and once again he attempted to sit up. Once again, he was unable.

Feeling helpless because he was too weak, he asked loudly,

"Molly--are you okay? Did that angel touch you?!"

He was aware it sounded like he was asking about an assault of a different kind, but he didn't care, and didn't want to think about what that angel would have done to her.

"Dewey--what about you?"

The more she looked at him, the more injured Beetlejuice appeared to be, his chest burned black and sunken, his face an angry red, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. He didn't even appear to have the strength to sit up on his own. And here he was worried about her. She shook her head, once again lifting his hand to her lips, since it seemed to be the only place she could touch without hurting him.

"No, no, sweetheart, they didn’t touch me, I just fell back into some glass. They're just scratches, I promise, I'm fine."

She looked over at Dewey, who had joined her kneeling by the demon's side. Concern was etched into his face, in the crease of his brow and the downward turn of his mouth, and Molly noticed that the ring around his throat was already fading.

“I’m okay,” he promised, looking over at her as she kissed his knuckles. Dewey would heal more quickly from an angel attack than he would, since holy fire was designed to be harmful to demons. But he could help. He could take some of the pain away, if he worked quickly.

“Take a deep breath,” he advised, gingerly placing his hands on Beetlejuice’s chest, ignoring the disquieting texture of burnt flesh beneath his palms. “I’ve never done this on a demon before, so it might hurt a bit.”

His hands began to pulse with that golden light, and at first, nothing seemed to happen. Would he even be able to help, or would angelic contact make the wounds worse?

But then skin started to knit back together, the blistered red disappearing from the demon’s face as the scorches were healed, his chest no longer having that terrible sunken look. Relief smoothed out his brow, Molly smiling gratefully over at him as she held Beej’s hand. He couldn’t hold the healing pulses for long, though, and soon the glow faded, his hands shaking a little as they dropped back at his sides.

“Any better?”

His chest felt less like a truck had parked on it, and the skin on his face felt completely mobile again instead of like stiff and crackly, uncared for leather. There was still a bone-deep ache throughout his body from his tentacles torn from their roots, but he didn’t expect Dewey to be able to help with that. He hadn’t thought an angel would help heal him in the first place.

His tentacles had retreated to their realm when the superior angel had pinned him, not able to withstand the holy light the being had concentrated on them. Shadow couldn’t exist without light, but too much overwhelmed it in this case.

“Every angel is terrible,” Beetlejuice muttered, afraid of what permanent damage the angel may have done to him. He stare up at the ceiling, before seeing the surprised and offended expressions on the other’s faces at the statement he’d just made. “Rainer Maria Rilke. The Duino Elegies? The second elegy? Eh, forget it.”

At least now he could sit up with minimal assistance. Doing so, he decided to leave early 20th century lyrical German poetry behind. Instead, he praised with a groan,

“Magic hands. Thank you.” Looking Dewey straight in the eye he gave him a half smirk. “I bet those magic hands feel good in lots of places.”

A sigh of relief passed her lips when she saw Beetlejuice come back to more of his normal self, though she could only imagine how sore he must be from taking the brunt of the angel’s attacks. She sat back on her heels, furrowing her brow a little at his crack about angels. When he clarified its source, the name somewhat familiar to her, she smiled. Molly was fairly certain she had that book on her shelves somewhere; perhaps she’d pull it down and give that particular poem a closer read once things had settled back down.

She hid a more knowing smile behind her hand at the flirtatious statement, rising to her feet with a groan. While certainly not a life threatening injury, her back felt raw and stinging from the cuts and abrasions, and her living room was in shambles.

“Dewey, can you get Beej up and take him into the bedroom? I’ll be in a second, I’ve got to at least get the glass off the floor.”

Sooner or later she would have to take a shower and get all the blood and bits of glass out of her back, but she was dreading doing so. Ignoring the sticky pools of spilled liquor on her kitchen floor, she carefully picked her way to the supplies closet to dig out the broom, getting the glass and drywall off the floor. That fucking angel really had to go and break every glass in the house, didn’t they?

While Molly seemed to understand the reference, or at least the allusion to poetry, Dewey looked confused, his head cocking to the side like a Labrador trying to decipher a sound its never heard before. His hands twitched toward Beetlejuice as he sat up carefully, groaning deep as he did so, but he seemed to be able to hold himself up on his own. Indeed, his injuries seemed healed enough for him to have the energy to flirt.

Dewey flushed beet red, quickly looking down at his hands, though his wings gave a rather pleased ruffle quite on their own. He stammered, not quite sure how to respond, not quite sure how he should respond, and was grateful when Molly gave him something to do. He helped Beetlejuice to his feet, steadying him by slinging one striped arm over his shoulder, and got him to the bedroom, sitting him down on sheets that were still rumpled from sleep.

“Is . . . Is there anything else I can do to help?”

He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, feeling a heavy shift in the air between them, unsure how to proceed but wanting to make the effort to continue the peace between them. Looking down at the carpet, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, by the way . . . I didn't want you to get hurt."

If it'd been his choice, Beetlejuice would have ignored the mess of a partially wrecked house and the broken glass everywhere, but he also knew breathers tended to be concerned about things like that, so when Molly left his side to start cleaning, he didn't tell her he'd rather just have her come back to bed.

Instead, it was the angel who helped him up and took him to the privacy of the bedroom. With his own arm over Dewey's shoulder and a reciprocal warm arm around his waist, he hobbled back to the bed. Just the short walk winded him, and he sat staring at the floor for a second, even as Dewey gingerly took a seat beside him.

"I'll be okay," he replied, and flicked a glance over at his companion at the apology.

Dewey looked nervous, or anxious, or -- Beetlejuice had no energy to devote to puzzling out what worry the angel had. Although he'd taken to fidgeting with his hands in his lap again, the demon reached over and stilled them with a squeeze over both.

"Hey. Dewey. I'll be okay. You were obviously trying to protect me and Molly and being all altruistic and angelic and stuff, but you think I was going to let you hog all the glory? You think I was gonna let you give your boss the boot and look like a damn hero in front of Molly? So she'd be all starry-eyed and hot for you, her savior--so she'd forget about me and fall into your arms? So she'd maybe even banish me, and you'd have her all to yourself?"

He turned a narrowed eye stare at the angel, whose eyes widened in return at the accusations. Beetlejuice let the tension ride for a moment, but when Dewey continued to look stricken, he knew the joke had fallen well off the mark. He shook his head and tried to amend the poor tease.

"Nah, I'm just joking! That thing was a prick. How could I resist an ill-advised attack on an angel?" he replied. "You didn't want it here, Molly didn't want it here. She'd already told me you and I could stay here together . . . was I just supposed to let that prick take away the best things I ever got?"

He squeezed Dewey's hands again, and weaseled his own hand between the angel's. Man, that warmth was addictive. Glancing down at himself, he saw his shirt had been scorched and his tie charred. Fucking angel and its fucking holy fire.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off. It's ruined, and I can't imagine Molly's gonna want ash in her bed . . ."

Before Dewey could give any indication whether he was uncomfortable with him half naked again, Beetlejuice's shirt, tie, and jacket were gone. Sitting next to the angel wearing only pants must be his new thing.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up in the sheets and blankets and be surrounded by Molly's scent, but she hadn't returned to the bedroom yet. With a sigh, he eased to rest against Dewey's shoulder. He felt the angel's wing brush against his back, and he smiled.

A jolt rippled through him, caused equally by surprise at the touch and shock at his cold hand, but it was quick and hardly noticeable. The furrow of his brow, however, was prominent as Beetlejuice seemed to quickly accuse him of fighting the angel for his own gains, primarily Molly’s affections. It didn’t dawn on him that the demon was teasing until he spelled it out for him; only then did he relax, laughing a bit at being unable to grasp the joke. In his defense, the healing he had done, not to mention the fighting itself, had taken a great deal out of him, he couldn’t remember being this exhausted. So when a cool hand pushed itself between his, he didn’t protest, pressing his palms around it in a gentle squeeze.

Dewey only nodded when Beetlejuice announced that his shirt was coming off; he’d noticed it was singed and scorched around the chest, and couldn’t possibly still be wearable. Besides, he’d grown used to the sight of him shirtless, and especially under the circumstances, the last thing in the world he felt was uncomfortable. Even as a cool cheek pressed against his shoulder, head resting heavily against him, he smiled at how strangely natural it felt, tucking a wing protectively around him. The sensation of feathers brushing bare skin was new to him, and Dewey would be lying if he said he didn’t like it

“I’m, uh . . . ” He started lamely, clearing his throat before starting again. “I’m glad you’re here. Molly wouldn’t have been able to banish the angel if you weren’t, and . . . I’m also sorry for some of the things I said about you. Y’know, before.”

The part unspoken was, “Before he had broken free of the near brainwashing of the angelic hierarchy, before he had discovered for himself that demons weren’t the mindless forces of evil he’d believed them to be, before he had known that Beetlejuice was just as lonely and desperate for companionship as he was.” He hoped the demon knew all that.

Molly did the best she could to clean up, sweeping up the crumbled drywall and shards of glass into somewhat neat piles, sopping up as much liquid as she could off the kitchen floor, and draping towels over the yawning holes of her busted windows. They would have to be boarded up until she could get them replaced, and the kitchen floor would need scrubbed, and she would need to find a way to patch the walls and get the debris out into the garbage can . . . but that could wait.

The spell had drained her, mentally and physically, and when she glanced outside, she noticed that the sun had almost finished setting, the world painted in deep shades of indigo and violet. Time must have flowed differently inside her house while the other angel was here. No wonder she was so tired. With the floors swept and the windows covered, it was good enough.

All she wanted was to join the two of them in the bedroom, but she had to shower first, or the scrapes on her back might get infected. It was quick, the water cool to ease the stinging, and a few tentative passes with a washcloth got the bits of glass out.

Here, she ran into a bit of a dilemma. There was no way she was going to be able to comfortably sleep with a shirt on, not with so many raw scrapes and scratches on her back. She doubted Beej would have much of an issue with her going topless, but it might be a little much for her angel to handle.

“Oh well,” she whispered to herself, “he’s gonna have to come to grips with the fact that I have tits sooner or later.”

She did at least throw her sleep shorts back on and wrapped a towel around her chest before walking into the bedroom, smiling fondly at the sight of Beetlejuice leaning heavily against Dewey, who had one wing folded gently over his upper body, their hands clasped. They both looked equally drained, nearly asleep just sitting there, and she couldn’t help bending to press a kiss to both foreheads.

“You two look exhausted,” she said, stroking her hands through their hair. “Do you want to try sleeping? I’m wrecked.”

Molly climbed into the bed, leaving the towel behind, and held open the covers for the two of them to join her. At least, she hoped they would.

Beetlejuice was vaguely aware of the sounds Molly made: sweeping, the water in the shower, and now her padding across the bedroom floor to stand in front of them. The warm touch of her lips and breath near his hairline and her fingers in his hair nearly made him purr.

When she stopped and he felt the mattress dip as she climbed onto it, he opened his eyes and twisted to see her settling at the head of the bed with an expectant air. Although he still felt like he'd been rolled by a truck, Beetlejuice grinned when he saw she was topless. With a grin he nudged Dewey in a "hey lookit that, bro!" manner before pushing himself off the edge of the bed too.

It was a slower move to upright than he expected; it seemed like his muscles had seized up a little. Carefully he turned and crawled up the bed to Molly's left, so he could sleep on his less injured right side. That trespassing angel had torn out a hunk of tentacles from his left side, the sinistra. Maybe they'd done that on purpose. Maybe they'd attempted to strip away some of the evil they thought was in him. Maybe he was delirious from exhaustion and pain, and overthinking all that.

Shaking his head, as he settled into the mattress, he called down to Dewey,

"Hey. You joinin' us or what? It's an exclusive club, and Molly's offering you a membership. Price of admission is taking off your shirt, like us," he said with a grin, enjoying watching pink creep up the angel's cheeks.

Dewey's eyelids felt as though they’d had lead weight attached to them, heavy even as Molly came close, smelling so warm and sweet from the rose-scented soap she used in the shower. The kiss to his forehead made him hum, and he felt the vibration of Beetlejuice doing the same beside him. Only when an elbow sank into his side did he lift his head and look up, and immediately felt a hot flush creep from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest. He hadn’t expected to see her . . . like this. Not yet, anyway. Not so soon. All the years of turning his back, leaving the room, giving her at least that modicum of privacy, and now, he finally got to see what he could only create in his mind’s eye. She was just as beautiful as he’d imagined, maybe more so.

He felt frozen in place by the sight as Beetlejuice slid into the bed beside her, Molly turning to face him and lay her head against his shoulder. When the demon spoke, grinning and beckoning him into the bed with them, he got clumsily to his feet. A twinge of self-consciousness rippled cold through him as he worked his way out of his shirt, the sweater vest getting momentarily caught on his wings, but he was too tired to feel it entirely.

Cautiously, he slid into the bed behind Molly, careful not to brush up against her back. He could see how scraped up and red it looked, and could only imagine that was why she had gone shirtless. He wanted to heal her, wanted to see her skin smooth and whole, but he just didn’t have it in him tonight. He pressed as close as he dared, her body heat intoxicating, and draped one arm over her waist. She didn’t protest, settling down between them, and he smiled, laying his head on the pillow as he pulled the covers up around the three of them. Like an extra blanket, his wing draped over them as well, soft and protective.

Molly happily settled against Beetlejuice’s bare chest, his skin cold at first but warming beneath her, affirming his invite to Dewey with a sleepy smile and a nod. The angel crawled into the bed behind her as if she were made of glass, his movements slow and deliberate, his arm wonderfully heavy and warm as it settled in the curve of her waist. She had never felt safer, being held between them, nor more loved. In that vulnerable moment between waking and sleep, her loneliness felt like a distant memory, and a single tear slipped from her eye, unnoticed and gone in an instant.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #beetlejuice #dewey finn #rp #AU #Beetlejuice x OC #Dewey X OC #Beetlejuice based on blumjuice

11 notes · View notes

paullahotes · 4 years

Text

Incalescent- Chapter Two

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!OC

Summary: Em just wants to be loved and have a family for once in her life. But nothing has ever gone right in her life before so why should it now?

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: semi-abuse from father figure, gross feelings

A/N: Listen, I don’t think I’m a good writer so this could be terrible! Let me know what you guys think of it!

Three periods had crawled by, each one continuously going slower than the last. I was now sitting in my algebra class, watching the clock tick by slowly. This school was shaping up to be different than the others I had been to, everyone wanted to know me here. A couple different boys, whose names I didn’t remember, had all introduced themselves to me. They were all eager to meet the new girl, they rarely got new people in this town and I was ‘front page baby’. Of course I was not too eager to meet any of them and vehemently denied an interview for the front page of the school newspaper.

When I had gotten home this morning before school, my dad wasn’t there but the house was a mess. Our couch was shredded, pieces of wood and clumps of foam covered the living room. The pan he was cooking dinner in was burnt to a crisp, too far gone to be saved. When I threw it out I made sure to double bag it and bring it right to the can to make sure the smell didn’t linger in the house. The only thing I could do for the rest of the smell in the house was open a few windows and leave them for the day to air everything out.

Thankfully Emily had given me a new outfit and food for school because I had no time for either when I looked around at the mess before me. Though, currently the wolves were the last things on my mind. The one thing at the forefront was that I had killed my mother and my father hated me for it. There would be no getting out of talking about this with him, maybe he would want to work things out. I knew though that that was far fetched, in his mind, I had killed the woman he loved. I had sucked the life out of her, leaving her dead and me a burden on him. My face practically mirroring hers a constant reminder of the tragic events.

“Miss Abbott?” The teacher called from the front of the class, his hoarse voice pulling me from the self hating thoughts. He was staring me down, waiting for a reply so I shrugged at him. The class was turned looking at me now, every pair of eyes trained on my face. “Miss Abbott, you’re new here, so I’ll give you some leeway this time but from now on you have better be paying attention.”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered back copying down the notes from the board that I had been neglecting. I had already taken this math class three times, I could probably teach it by now. Taking the notes however proved to be a good distraction from my thoughts and before I knew it, the bell was ringing for lunch time.

Paper bag in hand I made my way to the cafeteria and found a table in the corner that no one was sitting at. I sat in a seat so I wouldn’t be facing everyone but so I could still see if I was going to be ambushed by anyone. The few boys who introduced themselves to me this morning all stared me down as they say at a different table. I could hear them muttering about how anti social I was and how even Bella, who had ditched everyone for Edward, was still better than I was coming off.

I didn’t think much of it as I propped my right leg up on a chair, to help with the swelling from the bite from Paul and scrolled through the apps on my phone. The lunch Emily packed me was delicious, with a good mix of veggies and fruit. I usually bought school lunch and picked at it because it was gross so this was a good change. There was nothing interesting on my phone except for a few texts from my dad begging me to come home and apologizing but I wasn’t ready to open up that can of worms over text with him.

“You’re back!” someone said, sarcasm was practically dripping from their mouth. When I looked up one of the girls sitting at the tables with the boys from earlier was looking at some newcomers. If looks could kill the three new people who were standing waiting for seats would be dead.

Two of them were clearly vampires, the small girl with black spiky hair had the palest skin I had ever seen, even for a vampire. She had a sincere smile on her beautiful face, looking as upbeat as ever even with a whole table of people glaring at her The other vampire was a guy, he was standing behind the vampire girl and the other human girl. He was wearing a beige sweater and khakis, his hair disheveled but there was evidence of gel suggesting he wanted to look disheveled on purpose.

The third one of them was a human, if she didn’t have deep brown eyes instead of golden like her two companions I might mistake her for a vampire too. Her skin was so pale it was almost grey. Her long brown hair hung over her shoulders, held back by a plain brown headband. She kept looking up at the male vampire like he was a Greek god with the sun shining out of his butt. He seemed very plain to me, with his beige outfit and brooding look on his face. He looked like he was ready to cry and recite poetry about something sad.

“Our family just loves Forks so much, we couldn’t stay away!” the small girl said excitedly, taking a seat at the table. Her two friends following suit while everyone else at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The rest of the group fell back into their conversations, the girl who was fake excited turned away from the newcomers to talk with everyone.

The table next to me began talking about the three people who showed up at the other table across the cafeteria. One of the people whispered something about doctor Cullen’s wife not liking the big city so they all came back here. The word ‘cult’ was thrown in as a reference to their family because none of them ate or really tried interacting with anyone at this school. I found out from eavesdropping that there were three other siblings that came here last year but graduated. I wondered to myself if Sam and Paul knew that the Cullens were back since just this morning, they told me that they had left.

I studied the two vampires as they pretended to eat their lunch. The girl picked her food apart trying to make it seem like she was taking bites but the guy was actually taking bites. I’d seen my dad eat food to pretend to be human over the years but he said it tasted like ashes. He told me that he assumed the venom in his system just burned it up so why not just take a few bites to blend in with the humans.

The human girl with them also picked at her food not eating it. Maybe she was trying to make the vampires look more normal or maybe she wanted to be one so bad she picked up their habits evan as a human. One of the boys called her ‘Bella’ as she was picking apart the bread on her tray. This was the girl they were talking about earlier, comparing me to her. Which would probably make the guy vampire Edward.

My first thought when finding out that this was the girl everyone thought was better than me was petty. She was plain and from what I could tell didn’t give a damn about anyone else besides the vampires she was with. She was listening and contributing to the conversation with everyone at the table but her eyes barely left the guy. The whole thing gave me secondhand embarrassment.

It wasn’t too long until the bell rang and I was heading to my next class. I pulled my hood over my head to keep my hair from getting wet as I crossed the courtyard to get to the little buildings scattered along a paved sidewalk. This was the first school I had been to where it wasn’t one whole building but a bunch of little ones placed around a campus. Everyone rushed alongside me, most had umbrellas and the ones that didn’t, ran full speed through the crowd to get to their class faster.

I left my jacket on the coat hook by the door when I got to class and found a seat toward the back so that I could be left alone. The assignment for the beginning of class was written on the board, the rest of the class had started writing about it in their journals so I pulled out my notebook. Writing isn't my strong suit but the prompt on the board read ‘write a narrative about something upsetting’ and I knew exactly what to write about.

While I was writing my narrative I glanced up as two people sat at the desks in front of me. Bella and Edward were sitting there, both turned facing each other with their notebooks out. She was glancing over at him every few seconds and I could hear her breathing hitch every time. I had to suppress an eye roll at the sight of it. Sure I had been lonely my whole life but I couldn’t imagine being that into someone. Though how would I even know since I’d never been in that situation.

The class got started and a couple people shared what they had written. I didn’t volunteer to read mine because of how emotional it sounded. Bella and Edward didn’t volunteer either and every once in a while I thought I could see Edward turn and glance my way. After the first couple times Bella noticed and turned back to me and gave me a questioning look. I made sure I looked like I didn’t know what was going on and just sat there doodling in my notebook.

“Are you new?” she asked me when the bell rang, signalling us to leave and head to our last class. This school and everyone in it was going wildly out of their way to talk to me and I wasn’t having it.

“Yeah,” I told her bluntly and quickly walked away. I grabbed my jacket off the hook and shrugged it on going to my last class. I got there before everyone else, having sped off as fast as I could. I could feel my calf throbbing as I sat down. The bite mark wasn’t an open wound anymore but the teeth outline was still there surrounded by bruises. If I didn’t think about it the pain would go away but since I was reminded of it I had to limp to my seat.

I found a seat in the back of this class as well, internally thanking the universe for giving me the best seats as this school. As I sat at my desk waiting for the other students to arrive I stared out the window. The rain had subsided for the time being, the sky still covered in dark clouds. The day had gone much different weather wise than what it had been this morning when Paul was walking me home.

The early morning sun was peeking through the trees as Paul and I walked side by side to my house. His hand kept bumping into my arm as we went. I had seen a couple cheesy movies where the boy and girl would be walking and the boy would bump his hand into hers on purpose because he wanted to hold it. But Paul and I had just met. He was probably so close because my leg was threatening to give out at any second. Emily had thankfully cleaned and bandaged it well so I wouldn’t have to worry about it for a couple hours.

The walk back through the forest was different than last nights run through it. It had been dark and stormy, a combo that hadn’t let me really appreciate how beautiful it was. Though my mental state probably wouldn’t have let me appreciate it either even if it hadn’t been dark and stormy.

The scenery was gorgeous. The entire forest floor was covered in old fallen tree trunks and moss. The green had overwhelmed me on the drive in but being here with the sunlight peeking through the tops of the trees was amazing. You could hear birds chirping and if you listened close enough you could hear the river rushing over rocks a little ways ahead.

Paul nudged me and smirked as we approached the river. My mouth set into a tight line as I thought of having to jump over it with how badly my leg hurt. I frowned up at him and he still had a smirk on his face.

“Do you think I’d make you jump this after trying to take a chunk out of your leg?” He asked me, his eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yeah, actually,” I mumbled back to him. His smile was so bright as he looked down at me. He shook his head and stepped back a bit before putting his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pulling them down. I looked away quickly as blush spread over my cheeks.

“You should watch this, I think you’ll think it’s cool,” I peeked back over at him making sure not to look down but directly at his face. His smile grew wider as he spoke again. “You’re cute when you blush.”

My face got even redder than before, I could feel the heat spreading across my face rapidly. Before I could even think of anything to say and let alone say it, Paul was visibly shaking. Then suddenly he exploded into a grey wolf five times his size. I stood there with my jaw practically on the ground. He grabbed his shorts in his teeth and walked them over to me.

“You were right, this is pretty cool,” I told him patting his head like I would a regular dog. He didn’t seem to like it so he nudged my hand out of the way and flung his shorts at my face. “Alright, alright I’ll carry these but I don’t know how you being a wolf is going to get me across the river.”

Paul laid down on the ground and gestured with his head for me to get on his back. My eyes widened and I took a step back and muttered ‘no way’ quietly. Then before I could do anything else Paul jumped up and ran at me full speed. I let out a shriek as he charged at me and jumped, my leg kept me from going to high and I was suddenly on his back. A low rumble from his chest alerted me to him laughing.

“I’ll remember this,” I growled at him, gripping onto his fur. The wind whipped passed up as he ran forward, faster than I could run even when my leg was healed. I made a mental note to work on my speed so he wouldn’t have an edge on me. We got to the edge of the river quickly and he leaped across it like it was nothing, landing gracefully on the other side.

“So how’d you like it?” Paul asked smugly a few moments later as he was pulling on his pants. It had been such a rush not being the one who was jumping. I was able to just sit back and let the wind whip through my hair and relax. Him turning into a wolf was pretty cool too, way better than being half vampire.

“It was alright, I’m glad I’m half vampire and can’t turn into some dog,” I tried ending my sentence sounding like I was teasing him. I wasn’t used to feeling anything but empty. I had never come close to even a sliver of happiness. The feelings I felt being around Paul and the feelings I felt back when we were at Sam and Emily’s house were foreign. My life had never known anything like this and as my stomach turned itself into knots I knew it couldn’t last forever.

“I know that you secretly wish you were as cool as me,” He taunted me, the bright smile back on his face. I tried not to look directly at him now that I knew I would blush at everything he did if he had that smile.

“Please, I could find someone cooler than you without even trying,” I shot back, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. This was the longest interaction I had ever had with anyone in my whole life. Even longer than anything with my father. I didn’t even know that I knew how to interact with anyone like this.

“Hey now, you gotta be nice to me or we can’t be friends,” Paul joked back, bumping into me. I looked up at him, my mouth opening then closing because I didn’t know how to respond. The look on my face must have worried him because he grabbed my hand and said, “I was just joking, we just met but I think we’ll be the greatest friends.”

“I’ve never had one…” I mumbled looking up at him. My forehead was furrowed as I looked up at him. It was pretty pathetic that I hadn’t had a friend but it was all part of keeping the family secret.

“You’ve never had a friend?” He asked sounding like he didn’t believe me. I shrugged as we kept walking and didn’t look up at him.

“My dad never let me have one, he wanted to keep our existence a secret and thought that if I ever had any friends that they would somehow find out about us,” I explained, the more I thought about it the more dumb it sounded.

“Your father sounds like a dick,” Paul muttered. He was right, that is how my dad sounded. Why else would he keep me from having friends? Why else would he keep me from being happy? Maybe it all went back to him blaming me for my mother dying, though if I could go back in time I would change things. I would never kill anyone consciously, that wasn’t me.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, we’re your friends now!” Paul said trying to pull me out of my thoughts. We were coming to a clearing and Paul slowed down his walk. “The whole pack is like one big family, we fight like real siblings and we have bonfires together. I really think you’ll get along with everyone once they see past you being a vampire.”

“Everyone?” I asked sounding a little uneasy. “There’s more than you and Sam?”

“Yeah! There’s actually ten of us that are wolves, two more phased for the first time the other day which indicates that more vampires are in our area.” He explained to me as I wrung my hands together. There were ten wolves in the ‘pack’ he was telling me about. Less than twelve hours ago I didn’t even know wolves existed and now I knew about ten.

“There’s a lot of you…” I quietly exclaimed. “How do you know when to phase? How can you tell that vampires are near?”

“You’ll have to come out to a bonfire sometime and hear our tribes stories. They explain it all but in short and to quote the stories ‘we have always had magic in our blood’,” Paul explained to me as we walked along somehow even slower than before. Meeting him had been a good distraction from my feelings and the pain in my stomach told me that as soon as I was alone I would spiral.

“That sounds fancy, I don’t think there are stories of how vampires came to be,” I muttered to him. “Though if there were they would probably be dark and contain no magic.”

“Don’t sound so negative about vampires, you aren’t so bad,” he emphasized ‘so’ and wagged his eyebrows at me jokingly. I let out a small chuckle, rolling my eyes at him.

We made our way out of the thick trees and into my backyard greeted by the sun being out fully. There were no clouds in sight. The warmth spread over my skin and I let myself smile widely. The weather had been disastrous since our arrival yesterday and the sun was a welcome change.

“You don’t sparkle,” Paul commented from behind me. When I turned to look at him he sounded surprised, the look on his face was priceless.

“I am half human, silly,” I told him. He cocked his head to the side watching me. “Maybe that makes me deadlier than a regular vampire. I look completely innocent.”

“It sure does,” He muttered before shaking his head and giving me a small smile. “I’ll see you later right?”

“Of course, what else do I have to do? Stay home and hang out with my dick of a father?” I asked him referencing what he said earlier. He was beaming now and waved me off. As I turned to walk to my house he was pulling off his shorts again and phasing into a wolf. I heard a loud howl in the distance as I was opening my front door, bringing a smile to my face.

“Miss Abbott,” someone said pulling me out of my daydream. I snapped back into reality and saw that this teacher was catching me for not paying attention too. I stared at him until he spoke some more. “Miss Abbott, I was wondering if you would like to introduce yourself to the class but if you’re too preoccupied don’t let me bother you.”

“My name is Em and I’m new. That’s all you really need to know,” I replied, sounding sarcastic. I didn’t mean for it to come off bad but I was irritated. More so with myself than the teacher who interrupted.

“Great,” He muttered back, the edge in his voice sounding like he was ready to retire any second. None of the students were staring at me this time except for the two who were sitting directly in front of me, again. Bella and Edward stared back at me, both looking different levels of shocked. Edward looked like he was shocked and frustrated. Who knew a vampire could be so uptight about a new student with an attitude problem?

“Mr. Cullen, one student not paying attention is enough for me for one day,” our teacher called from right beside our desks. I gave the teacher a quick glance and then looked forward to the front of the room where he had our lesson up on the board. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Edward stiffen and turn around, clearly upset as he clenched his fists.

Besides a few snide whispers among the other students of ‘the new girl must already love Edward’ and ‘god she’s JUST like Bella, amazed by Edward already’, the class went by quickly and I was out the door while the bell was still ringing. The walk home was brutally cold with the wind whipping at my face, numbing it. With the way Edward already seemed interested in me I didn’t want to risk running home and being found out that I was some type of vampire.

Each step I took brought me new anxiety, that tightened my chest with every breath. There was no doubt that my dad would be home now, waiting for me. I had no idea what to expect from him since everything was on the table now. His mood had changed rapidly during our confrontation that I didn’t even know what to expect from him in that sense when I walked through the door.

When I turned down the street I lived on I could see the car out front of our house but I couldn’t remember if it had been there this morning or not. If he was home he would know that I was close by now, he could probably hear my footsteps and he could definitely hear me breathing hard. The door to the house swung open as I started up our front steps, he wasn’t there but I could hear him walking in the kitchen. My ears picked up on the soft sound of clothing moving against wood, telling me he had taken a seat at the kitchen table.

Once I was down the hallway and into the kitchen I could see him. He was sitting with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped in front of his face. He didn’t look up when I came into the kitchen or as I took my time placing my backpack on the island and taking my jacket off. I took a seat at the table across from him and sat silently, waiting for him to talk.

“I didn’t mean for you to ever find out about your mother,” he stated after a while of silence. His face was unreadable, blank. This terrified more than if he was showing any emotion at all.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair of you to have kept that a secret from me? Don’t you think it’s unfair to treat me the way you do? Don’t you think it’s unfair keeping so much from me?” I asked him those questions with a shaky voice. My body felt like it was vibrating, heat spread from my stomach throughout my whole body. I kept myself from crying but the rest of my body was reacting. A slight sweat was building up on the back of my neck and scalp.

“Everything I have ever done was to protect you,” he said a little bit of emotion breaking through. The way he said it made me want to believe him but he had kept me not only from knowing the truth about my mother but also from knowing anything outside of our little bubble. I didn’t want this to keep happening. As much as I hated myself for now knowing what I did to my mother I wasn’t ever going to die so I had an eternity to go out into the world and explore and I wanted to start doing that soon.

“I can understand that to a point but you’ve never talked about my mother, not once. I didn’t even know what a mother was until you put me in school and I saw that almost everyone else had one. I grew up thinking it was only something in movies, I thought mothers were fictional!” My voice wavered in the end, a few tears spilling out and rolling hotly down my cheek. He sat back, crossing his arms across his chest and looked like he was thinking for a minute.

“You seem to have given this a lot of thought, I guess your little run gave you a lot of time to think,” he was calm now, back to showing no emotion. Though there was a slight edge to his voice. I took in a shaky breath, an indication of how worked up I was about this.

“I’ve been thinking about having this conversation with you my whole life. Do you know how hard it is to not have friends? How hard it is to have the only real interaction you have be with your father and even those interactions are few and far between?” My voice was beginning to crack with every emotion I had felt over the last twenty-three years coming to the surface.

“Em,” he let out a long breath, his eyes almost rolling. “You know how important it is to keep our secret! If anyone found out that we were vampires there would be terrible consequences.”

“How would they find out? What harm would it be for me to have a few friends? Do you think I would go to a sleepover and just tell them I was a vampire? Do you think I introduce myself as ‘Em, the vampire’?” This was when I began to raise my voice. The tears were flowing freely down my face as my father was glaring daggers at me.

“Do you know how hard it is to have the love of your life taken away by a child that you never even wanted?” He shouted at me, standing up so quickly the table lurched forward and shoved me back. The chair tipped back from the force and I hit the floor, not bothering to use any of my enhanced abilities to stop myself. I was lying on the floor when he continued. “You have no clue what I’ve been going through every single day since you were born. I can barely look at you, your face is just like hers, you remind me of her so much. It’s unfair that you get to live when she’s dead!”

“Why didn’t you kill me then? Why did you let her have me?” I sobbed out, tears blurring my vision so that I couldn’t see anymore. The only thing that could be heard for a while the crying, each hiccup-like intake of breath echoing off the walls.

“She wouldn’t let me, she wanted you so bad. She wanted to start a family with me. She was so optimistic, she thought she would live and I could turn her into a vampire and we could raise you. The perfect little family that she always wanted and I was willing to give her anything,” his tone was different now, almost like he was crying too but I still couldn’t see him. My tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m going to leave for a while, to give you some time to breathe. You have my cell phone number so if anyone needs you to confirm you have a dad or anything, just call. Follow the rules while I’m gone, I’ll know if you don’t.”

With the last threat he left, the door slamming so hard behind him that the whole house shook. It felt like years before I could calm down and pick myself up off the floor. My body was stiff as I stood up and put the table and chair back where they belonged. That was when my brain decided to rearrange things and not think about or process anything that had just happened. With the couch from the living room destroyed I decided to move some chairs around to make up for it.

Once the house was completely rearranged and the sun had set, I began to cook my myself some dinner. Though my stomach currently felt like lead I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep at any point tonight if I didn’t eat. When the house began to smell like the food I was cooking, I started to feel better. I let myself breathe the delicious scents in as I stirred my food around the pan.

All the movies and tv shows I had seen over the years told me that this is what your home should always smell like. Your parents should be cooking in the kitchen while the kids are scattered around the house doing homework or other activities. Though I was fully grown now, I had been since I was around 7 years old, but now I was considered a real adult and most people at this age don’t live with their parents anymore. I had never had that and I felt like no matter how many years passed I would still crave a family.

The loneliness crept back in as I stared down at the suddenly inedible food in the pan. The once delicious smells were making my stomach churn, my nose crinkling in disgust. Before I could even register it I was dumping my food out in the trash and scrubbing the pan violently in the sink. I hadn’t even finished my second day here in Forks and I was crying again, the tears running down my face as I splashed the sink water everyone in anger.

How could my father do this to me? Why would he spend over two decades with me, raising me, if he hated and resented me so much? He didn’t seem to give a shit about what my mom had wanted since he barely even acknowledged that I was around so he wasn’t doing it for her in any way.

A sudden knock on the back door pulled me out of my angry thoughts. I jumped at the sound making the soapy water in the sink spill over the edge and on the floor, soaking the bottom of my pants and shoes. The sun had set by now so I couldn’t see out onto my porch but my ears picked up on a rapid heartbeat and a familiar scent was beginning to seep in through the crack in the door. When I flicked on the porch light I was proven right, Paul was standing there soaked from the rain I hadn’t even noticed. I slid the door open silently, letting him in.

“What’s wrong?” His hands came to my face as he asked, palms cupping my cheeks and thumbs wiping my tears away. Part of me knew this behavior was odd from someone I had just met-been attacked by, yesterday. But another part of me wanted to be cared for like this, craved the soft, caring touches.

“My dad left to give me some space to breathe for a while,” I choked out trying to calm down. Paul pulled me into a hug and I didn’t protest, pressing my cheek to his bare chest. The heat was coming off of him in waves, practically burning my cheek.

“Maybe this is a good thing,” Paul tried to assure me, rubbing a hand up and down my back while his other was placed on the back of my head. “He is a dick after all.”

We stayed like that for a while, until reality kicked in a told me I shouldn’t be hugging a complete stranger. I couldn’t tell why but I felt a strong pull to Paul. If I had been in my right mind at all yesterday when he was carrying me through the woods or this morning when he walked me home I would’ve realized it earlier. The second he wasn’t touching me a part of me felt empty, having not realized I felt anywhere near whole when we embraced. I hadn’t even know him for a full twenty-four hours yet so I would be keeping these feelings to myself.

“Are you hungry?” I found myself asking him, gesturing awkwardly to my kitchen.

“Actually I came to see if you wanted to have dinner at Emily’s,” he told me looking around my kitchen. “You said you were going to come over after you got off of school but you never did. I didn’t have a real reason to come and check on you since we just met yesterday and I shouldn’t be worried so Emily suggested that I come and invite you to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot about it with everything that happened when I got home,” my cheeks flushed, the heat pooling in them immediately. Maybe my dad kept me from having friends because he knew I’d be a terrible one.

“Don’t even worry about it, I just really wanted to see you again,” he said the last part unsurely, like he didn’t know that he should actually confess that. His cheeks turned a little red after he spoke and he rubbed a hand awkwardly on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I would!” My feet squeaked as I walked forward to go with him. I had forgotten about my soaked pants and shoes. “Let me just change real quick.”

I flew up the stairs as fast as I could, throwing open my bedroom door and searching through my boxes of clothes for new pants and shoes. It felt like I had been up there forever once I came downstairs in my new clothes. Paul was waiting for me outback already in wolf form, his shorts in his mouth.

“I can hold those for you,” reaching out I took the shorts from him and climbed on his back, gripping his fur tightly. He took off as fast as he could through the woods, it was so dark out tonight that even I could barely see. The way he ran showed me how sure of himself he was, whipping between trees and over fallen ones without hesitation.

The sound of rushing water filled my ears as we neared the river. Paul never thought twice as he picked up speed and suddenly we were soaring over the it. The water was rushing violently from the heavy amount of rain we had gotten, mist spraying up at us as we went. We hit the other side of the river with a thud, without missing a beat Paul continued forward until we were outside Emily and Sam’s house. Their small cottage lit up the small clearing it was in. I could hear several people laughing inside as I waited for Paul to turn back and put his clothes back on.

“Come on,” Paul said from beside me. He was now dressed and holding out his hand for me to take. My face flushed as I took his hand, feeling more comfortable than I ever had as we walked into the house with our hands intertwined by our sides.

“Welcome back!” Emily called out to me when we walked in. She crossed from room quickly and was pulling me into a hug away from Paul within seconds. When she pulled back she kept her hands on my shoulders and looked me over. “Is everything all healed?”

“For the most part! My leg is still bothering me a bit,” I told her. She looked passed me over to Paul and gave him a sympathetic look. When I glanced back at him he looked like he was on the verge of tears. So I quickly said, “At least you guys know now that I’m not a dangerous vampire, I’d want to keep my people safe too if I were you guys.”

“What kind of bloodsucker are you then?” A boy asked from the kitchen. He was sitting next to Sam and another girl I had never seen. His face was round and youthful but his eyes were hardened like he’d been through a lot. Even though he was sitting I could tell he was a few inches taller than Paul but not as tall as Sam, the three of them the tallest people I have ever been around. The girl next to him that I had never seen was beautiful, her long black hair was pulled into a braid that she had over her shoulder, a scowl on her face as she looked at me. I wondered if they were two of the other wolves Paul had been telling me about earlier.

“I don’t really know,” I replied honestly, shrugging at all of them. “All I can say is I may be half a vampire but I’ve never killed anyone for their blood.”

“Never?” The girl asked me sounding skeptical. No one except for my mom but this wasn’t the time for that. I shook my head at her, everyone in the room looked a little shocked.

“I do steal things though, like blood bags from hospitals so I don’t have to feed directly off of a human. Sometimes I hunt animals…” I trailed off, looking between everyone’s faces. Beside me Emily grabbed my hand and led me to the table and pulled a chair out for me. I was sitting beside the boy I had never seen with Paul on my other side. I could tell that he didn’t like me already from the way he stiffened when I sat down next to him.

“Enough about this! Em is welcome here anytime and she is to be left alone unless she decides she wants to be interrogated.” Emily informed everyone, her eyes landing on the boy next to me. He huffed and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms,

“Don’t mind, Jacob,” Paul leaned in to whisper in my ear. “He’s still in highschool and in love with a girl who doesn’t love him back.”

“Shut up, Paul!” Jacob barked from beside me, getting up so quickly his chair flew back and slammed into a wall. The girl I didn’t know looked like she had gone through this before, Emily wasn’t paying attention as stirred some food and Paul was laughing next to me so hard the table in front of me was shaking.

“Just sit down, Jacob,” The girl said before Sam could say anything, though he was poised and ready, his fists pressed to the table. He took a few deep breaths and picked the pictures off the floor that he knocked down with his chair and came to sit back down. This time he made sure his chair was further away from me and closer to the girl.

“Thanks, Leah,” Sam told the girl, giving her a nod. She nodded back and then went to get some food like nothing happened. Paul started to put food on my plate without saying anything, then began to hesitate when I looked over at him to ask him why.

“I didn’t know if you felt like you should help yourself or not,” Paul explained, continuing to put more food on my plate for me.

“Thank you, I’ve just never…” I trailed off not knowing how to explain this to him and the rest of the people who were now staring at me.

“You’ve never had dinner before?” Jacob asked snidely beside me, a laugh coming out of him.

“I’ve always eaten dinner alone, my father doesn’t eat and he’s my only family,” I began to explain. What I said made the expression on Jacobs face falter, some food threatening to fall out of his mouth as it hung open.

“Haven’t you ever been invited to a friend’s house?” Leah questioned, stopping to ask before she took the forkful of food she had.

“I’ve never had a friend,” I told her quietly. My life was starting to sound pathetic to them and I could tell. I felt Paul’s hand press against my back and rub gently. Everyone was silent for a couple minutes, quietly taking bites of their food. I pushed mine around my plate, taking small bites here and there. Even Jacob was quiet next to me, his face no longer pinched in disgust at my presence.

“Hell yeah another blood sucker free day in the books!” A voice giddily announced walking through the door. I stiffened waiting for them to notice me. The person who announced it stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on me, the three boys following in behind him stopped too and followed his gaze to me. The youngest boy who followed in the first boy looked between Paul and I and gave me a small smile and a wave.

“Sorry to ruin that for you,” I dead panned, our eyes never breaking contact. The young boy who smiled at me laughed quietly to himself, the two others cracking a smile.

“Yeah, you should be,” He said walking over to the table and grabbing a seat directly across from me. As he filled his plate he began to talk to me, “I’m Jared, by the way. You must be Em, the girl Paul im-” Paul growled and kicked him under the table. Jared and Paul stared each other down for a minute before Jared finished filling his plate and began eating. I took a bite of my food as Paul calmed himself down, he didn’t seem angry but worried about whatever Jared was going to say. Though all he could’ve been saying was that Paul attacked me but he did seem to get upset when that was brought up.

“I’m Seth and these two are Quil and Embry,” the youngest boy said with a mouthful of food. He smiled at me and some food fell from his mouth and down his shirt. He began to laugh, causing more food to spill out of his mouth. I slapped a hand over my mouth as I tried to stifle my giggles. That’s how the rest of the dinner went, filled with laughter and happiness. They showed me how a real family was supposed to be and surprisingly I wasn’t sad, I was the happiest I have ever been.

After everyone was done eating we sat around Emily and Sam's small living room talking and laughing more. Everyone except for Jacob, who was sitting outside on the porch in the dark, were sharing stories. Even Leah, who had been scowling lame when I arrived, seemed to be warming to me as I sat quietly next to Paul on a couch. The heat was radiating off of Paul in waves, warming up my body as I sat snugly against him. I felt happy here, at peace. A bunch of people I had just me were accepting me into their home, into their family. Between the heat and the melodic laughter my eyes began to get heavy and before I could even register it, I was asleep.

Tagged: @angelenemies @twilightxcx

#paul lahote #paul lahote fic #paul lahote smut #sam uley #jacob black #quil ateara #embry call #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #jared cameron #twilight fic #twilight #twilight fan fic #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn

86 notes · View notes

jeonandjoonie · 4 years

Text

All for Seokjin, Part 1

posted on wattpad and this tumblr only.

All for Seokjin part 1, Part 2(Final)

Your attempt to get with Seokjin. college au. Seokjin X Reader.

word count: ~7k

W: no i did not look over this, and no i do not know how this will end :)

=========================================================

You walked by the gym pool listening to Hitman Bang. Waiting for the time to hit 8am for your morning aerobics class. You had 45 minutes left, having rushed over to your collage campus to get a close parking space.

Your phone vibrated indicating a text message from your friend Yuri saying she wasn’t going to come to this class as she decided to study for an astrology exam later for that day.

You internally screamed for a moment at the thought of not having your friend while you repeatedly stepped on blocks while listening to “We are Bullet Proof pt. 2”.

As you turned a corner you decided to wander inside the gymnasium. You peeked through the doors to see a couple of guys throwing the ball around. You were about to continue walking when you saw your crush Kim Seokjin. You internally sighed thinking about how beautiful he is. Broad shoulders on display as he threw the ball back to his friends. You knew nothing about Seokjin. Besides his name which you happen to catch on orientation day. However, one thing you were certain about was his body. The way he talked, the way he used over exaggerated hand gestures. The line of his legs. His broad shoulders. His rosy lips, and the playful glint in his eyes. The genuine happiness of seeing how his friends all laughed at what he was saying. You saw his eyes close with laughter, and the way his face became red as he pretended to be offended.

As you imagined your hands trailing through his soft brown hair, your eyes lingered to his eyes only to have him staring back at you. Your eyes widen in shock and you quickly moved out of the door way. You felt your face heat up and you ran away as far as you can. You find yourself in a bathroom stall that was next to the gym. You took cover in there for a while as you catched your breath.

You never thought you would be in a situation where you are viewed as a wirdeo. Why did you run? You should have just casually smiled or nodded and retuned walking as if you were lost or looking for someone else. Gosh, he probably thinks you are a freak. But you’re sure he possibly didn’t see all of you.

As you finally got courage to exit the bathroom you walked out. I mean there’s no way he would be outside waiting for you, right?

And sure enough, he wasn’t waiting for you. This twisted love story you were hoping for does not exist. Honesty you expected him to be waiting for you outside, expected some love story in which he is leaning against the wall and ask you what you are doing as he tilts his head and a smirk appears on his flawless face. Defeated you walked out of the building.

You first saw Seokjin in your college orientation of your freshman year. You sat next to him during the lunch break. He was so focused on eating that he never noticed you staring right at him. The way he filed up his cheeks as he ate and laughed with his friends siting next to him, friends you later find out are Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon. You were alone that day, as your friends went to other schools. And the only people you knew had orientation on a different day. You picked up his name by peeking at his packet sheet. He was an acting major. His name Kim Seokjin.

You never saw him again despite you attempt of trying to casually pass him by the theater department. It wasn’t until the beginning of this year, of your junior year, that you saw him again. You were sitting at the library typing away on an essay when someone sat next to you. You didn’t pay the person any attention as you were so engrossed and on a roll on your paper. It wasn’t until you felt burnt out that you decided to go home. You tucked your laptop away and stood up to see the boy next to you. He looked familiar. He looked up and gave you a casual smile, you retuned it and rushed away. As you were walking thinking of the boys stunning smile, despite that it was closed lip and shy, it was so bright and memorizing. Then you realized it was Hoseok. You didn’t know his name then, but you remembered him.

Suddenly feelings of Seokjin rushed to your brain. You remembered your countless nights trying to find any social media of his but never finding it. You did have a few suspect accounts that were all on private and despite your urge to create a fake account you never did it. Soon Seokjin became a distant loving memory in the back of your mid as you walked the campus filled of hungry and deprived students.

But now Hoseok, or as you know him at the time Seokjin’s friend, was inside the library. You did something you always said you wouldn’t do. You swallowed your pride and waited outside the library in a bench. Trying to come off as a “need for a change of environment to write” you continued to write your essay with little advancement as you typed wordlessly. For a second you were worried. What if he left in a different exit and here you are wasting your time as the sun is beginning to go down. And then Hoseok walked out. He put his earphones on as he walks briskly down the path that led to the parking lot. This was perfect as your car was also parked there. As you neared closer you realized what twisted fate this was. Hoseok’s black Toyota car was parked right next to your Hyundai. You paused how awkward would this be. He didn’t see you outside the library or noticed you walking behind him. But he did see you walking out the library. Would he think of you as a wiredo. You didn’t want that, so like a wierdo you found the closet tree and hid behind it. Thankfully the tree was big enough to cover you. So you peeked to the side and watched as he turned on his car and slowly backed out.

You looked for that car every time you parked, you even opted on missing some perfect parking spaces just to be near that location. All that work paid off when you saw his car one more time. He was parked right next to you. So, you sat in your car rolled down your window and waited as you scrolled through your phone. You convinced yourself, this isn’t suspicious behavior. Almost all students sit in their cars waiting for their classes to begin not wanting to sit in the quad and be bothered.

You heard males voices. Your ears trained on their conversation.

“C’mon Hoseok, give me a ride, I don’t want to wait for Seokjin. He’s so slow in taking exams”.

Seokjin.

“Fine. Fine, but I’m going straight home, you can tell him to get you from there. I’m so tired from studying for that exam”.

“Aay Namjoon, so who was that girl earlier?”

“Don’t ask me” A new voice said. “That’s Yoongi’s business”.

“Shes no one” You heard the second voice respond. All the voices laughed.

You heard doors opening so you slowly turned your head over just to make sure. Sure enough, you see Hoseok laughing as he climbed into the car.

Within you vision blonde hair appeared. You didn’t pay much attention to it. You were trying to remember all the names you heard, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi. When suddenly the blonde hair turns around and you find yourself face to face with this beautiful (and deadly) boy. You were so shocked with the exposure and his soft features that you stood there like a deer in headlights. You felt guilty for eaves dropping, but they didn’t know that.

“hey” The voice said.

“He-Hello”. You replied. Looking down.

“Do I know you?”

“Me?” You ask dumbly. “Uhh I’m not sure. I don’t think so”. You could feel a blush forming into your cheeks. Normally this stuff wouldn’t bother you. But this boy is beautiful, he knows Seokjin, and you were just eaves dropping on his conversation.

He looked at you as he tilted his head. He raised his eyebrows and said, “No, I do. Last Semester Poetry” He said more to himself.

“Yeah I guess” you replied, as you did in fact take poetry last semester. Then it hit you. Rapper boy.

In your poetry class there was this guy who never showed his face. He always covered himself with a bucket hat and wore mask all day. That and the fact that you sat up front, so you never bothered to look behind you. This boy would always write “raps” for the workshops. You can’t even make fun of him through because they were good. Although one was questionable (A-to the G to the U to the STD), the memory of that day almost made you laugh. You remember having this urge to look around to see if anyone felt that same as you did.

If you would’ve known the boy under the bucket hat and hidden behind the mask was this beautiful. If you would’ve known this was Seokjin’s friend. You would have shamelessly partnered up with him during every activity.

“Hey Yoongi! Do you want a ride or what?” You hear Hoseok shout out.

Yoongi gave you a nod as you giggled (yes, you were trying to be cute. He unfortunately did not seem affected by it).

He got into the car and they drove away.

If you were to say you didn’t wait in your car for one more hour after hearing that Seokjin is still taking an exam you would be lying. You waited, and he never came.

After seeing these 3 boys, you started to notice them everywhere, including Seokjin as you started to look around you. Never in your life did you realize how tall your schools’ trees are as you became more aware of your surroundings. All for Seokjin.

Now hear you are in your aerobics class. Excited that you saw Seokjin once more. That’s twice this month.

Later that night as you showered you really had to reflect on yourself. What are you doing? You are really coming off as a stalker. You’ve made up your mind that you are going to talk to Seokjin. If you continued this way then you would definitely be a stalker or some wiredo.

Tomorrow, no matter what you WILL talk to Seokjin. Even if its with just one of his friends.

The following weeks you were on a hunt for Yoongi, or rapper boy. You only managed to catch him once walking towards an Art building. You were with Yuri, she was planning your tactic on getting Hitman Bang tickets for his upcoming stadium tour. You saw Yoongi with his earphones on. So, you knew you had to be loud and direct. You fast walked up to him as smoothly as you can.

“Yoongi!” you yelled in his face. Yoongi looked at you shocked. You startled him, but you were expecting that, so you didn’t really care. He slowly removed an earphone. He looked behind you almost worriedly. You turned around to see a girl staring at both of you with a concerned look.

You turned back to him. “uhh… Yoongi”.

“Yes...Who are you?”

You cannot believe this as if he didn’t approach you first in the car and now he was going to act as If he didn’t know you.

You felt a presence behind you before you can respond. Annoyed with both Yoongi and this obvious presence that doesn’t understand space. You stepped aside allowing them to come into the conversation. You looked to the person, already guessing it was the girl.

Silence.

“So umm” Yoongi started with a cough.

“Yoongi, I am only hear because you told me to meet you here.” The girl said firmly.

Oh dang. Were you getting in the way? Embarrassed and feeling confident that someone would think you were enough to be a threat, you laughed.

‘oh, I just saw you Yoongi and wanted to ask you a question”.

Yoongi nodded for you to go on, before sneaking a glance at the girl.

“You…uh… you are still… rapping right?” you said slowly.

“Yeah” he simply responded.

“Well… I uhh… I write poetry” you begin, “and I wanted to perhaps add music to it, So I was wondering if you can give me some tips or you know anything to possibly get into it. Maybe a show I can attend or an event?”

You heard the girl next to you snort. Obviously thinking this was your way of trying to be flirty and get close to him.

Yoongi just looked at you. I mean he really looked at you.

You were dressed in blue jeans, a gray shirt and a green cardigan. He remembers your poetry was sweet and strangely depressing, for someone who opts for icy pink gloss.

‘Yeah... sure...” he finally says. “I... uh... actually I’m going to perform this weekend if you want to stop by and get into the crowd. I’ll introduce you to a couple people I know”.

Perfect.

You knew Yoongi was inviting you to get more people to his show, but you didn’t care it was a win for everyone.

“Yeah sure” You said a bit to enthusiastic.

Once again earning a snort from the girl next to you.

“Here I’ll give you my number and text you the location. The venue isn’t confirmed yet” He shyly said.

You quickly got your phone that was in your back pocket. He said his numbers out loud and you called him.

“That’s mine you said” as his ringtone of some Travis Scott song come on.

“Okay see you then!” you said cheerily, turning around just in time to see the girl roll her eyes.

“What do you want Yoongi?” you heard her ask annoyed.

“I Just wanted to see you, ___ (If you’re a Yoongi stan ayy)”.

You meet up with Yuri, who waited for you by distracting herself with some study abroad booth.

“who was that?” she asked as you joined her. Picking up a pamphlet to Spain.

“Him… Oh, Yoongi, he’s in or was in my poetry class I just asked him about some competition”.

Yuri turned to you with a smirk “sure...”

Before you can protest she smiled saying “He’s cute”.

You wanted to slap her. Cute? He’s Beautiful, gorgeous. Frankly you were proud of yourself for not stuttering in front of him.

“He’s okay” you responded.

“okay, is that why you were so bubbly for him and got his number”

Your eyes went wide.

“Ummm NO, Yuri as you can see he’s with some girl”.

“ouch, sorry” she said laughing.

You turned back to Yoongi and the Girl to see him smiling like a goof. This was the first time you seen such a smile on him. Well actually you haven’t seen him enough to know but with the way he acted and the couple times you seen him you never excepted him to make such an expression. The girl herself was even wearing some goofy simile, contrary to her icy vibe from before.

You only wished you and Seokjin could see each other like that one day.

You got Yoongi’s text friday night. He said it was at some bar Saturday night at like 9:30. He and his crew, some D-town name, are going to perform. He also added a “bring your plus ones”. You felt bad for Yoongi. Like yeah right you were going to bring people with you only to flood you with questions of why you were going to see some rap kids perform. You didn’t even go to slam poetry readings.

However, after googling the bar and seeing how it was in a questionable part of town and right next to a strip club and a pool place. You decided maybe its best to come with people. Yuri was not an option. You knew that girl would find out all your plans and secrets of your longing for Seokjin. You weren’t going to ask any of your other friends because they were going to think you were crazy or trying to sell them off. So, you texted your cousin to come with you. He likes rap music. He was younger then you, so you made sure to demand him to come.

He said hell only go if he can bring his friends. Of course, you complied. The more men, even if they were little boys the better. They were freshmen in college. And maybe Yoongi would be happy you brought some “dudes”.

You got your cousins text message that he was outside your house. He was going to drive you because he knew if you took your car you would play only Hitman Bang.

You walked out to see his small black car and noticed three other bodies in the back. You opened the door to the smell of vanilla.

You were wearing black jeans, your black low-heeled ankle boots, and a black jacket. You didn’t know what one would wear to a rap place, but this seemed acceptable enough. You looked at your cousins’ clothes and saw brands and words all over. Guess some cool kid clothes. Something about Anti or whatever.

“AAY, __”. He said putting the car to drive.

“Hey” You replied cautions of the guys behind you.

“So, this Jimin, Taehyung, they are my roommates”. You cousin went to a different university. Honestly you were thankful he came given the fact that he was 2 hours away. But you’re sure they don’t mind. Some horny freshman wanting to see the world.

‘Hey!” they said in unison. All fresh and young.

“And the one in the middle is Jungkook, he’s still in high school but it’s okay”.

The boy shily smiled at you.

“Jaebum, what do you mean high school? We’re going to a bar. They are not going to let him in”.

“Its okay,” you heard a sweet voice say behind you. “I have a fake ID”.

Oh my. You were not going to go to jail.

“Uhh, how old are you, Jungkook?”

“I’m 19... I uhh failed a grade.” He said the last part quietly. The other boys snickered next to him.

“Wait, you guys are 21, right?” You knew Jaebum was 21 having celebrated his birthday with the family at a park a couple months ago.

“I’m 21” the one named Jimin said.

“I’m 20, but I also got a fake ID” the other said.

Oh, god, 2 fakes.

“Okay if you guys get caught that’s on you. I don’t know you. I’m not going to jail”.

“It’s okay, nothings gonna happened relax” Taehyung said reaching into his pocket to pull out a blunt.

“Oh, hell no” you said “Put that away, I don’t want double charges” you practically shrieked.

Taehyung only chuckled “It’s okay, Relax, I got a medical Card”

“A MEDICAL CARD, Is that fake too? “

“Tae, just put it away” Jimin said.

You were grateful for Jimin as Taehyung began to put the blunt back into his pocket with a pout. That is until Jimin said

“Once she goes with her OWN friends, well be good”. You can feel the ice in his tone that fake niceness as he smiled at you. You couldn’t see him as you were facing up, but you just knew he was smiling as you heard all the boys in the car snicker.

“Yes” You replied, “not wanting to be beat by the kids, “Once I find my friends, you know the ones who are Performing”.

“Yeah I just hope were not the only ones” Jaebum said “You said they are underground?’

You cannot believe your luck. You were stuck with these kids who are plain jokes.

“He’s good okay” You defended Yoongi.

Cause honestly, he was good.

“well be the judge of that” Jimin replied.

You turned around and made sure Jimin saw you rolling your eyes at him.

“oooo” Jungkook and Taehyung said, like the little kids they are.

“watch it, little girl” Jimin said lowly.

“okay” you said laughing.

You didn’t notice Jimin’s grin. Nor Jaebum’s glares at Jimin through the review mirror, nor Taehyung’s smug smile at Jimin and Jungkook nudging Jimin’s side.

You walked inside the dimly lit bar.

Its horizontal shape led to a rounded end where you saw a group of people gathering. On top of a stage was a DJ, which was honestly just some dude with a laptop.

You sat wearily on the bar stool as you ordered your strawberry drink with minimal alcohol. You didn’t want to get drunk you had to be aware, if you wanted to get close to Seokjin.

You saw how Jungkook and Taehyung ordered tequila shots.

You rolled your eyed. As you got up to leave you were not going to be responsible for them. You couldn’t believe they got in, the security didn’t even bother to look at their ID’s. With a grunt, he simply allowed you all to enter.

You walked up to the crowd this is where the “party” will happen. You heard murmurs and tried to find the words Seokjin among them.

The only voices you heard was Jaebum, as he and his friends gathered behind you.

A minute later and the lights in the dimly light corner turned off. The loud blare of the typical horn that you find in rap battles went off. You heard a pre recorded “D-BOY” and you knew instantly it was Yoongi. Sure, enough the lights turned on and Yoongi appeared at the center of the stage.

The rap began, and the music followed. It was an okay show you couldn’t even enjoy it, nor could you process the fact that Namjoon or RM, as he is known here, got on stage. You were so caught up on trying to find Seokjin. What if he didn’t even come and you simply wasted your time. Which wasn’t so wasted as Yoongi and RM weren’t so bad.

Then you saw Hoseok.

“Come on”, you shouted in Taehyungs ear who was at your left. Taehyung didn’t hear you as he was too busy feeling the music. He had his hands out shouting AAAYYY and OOOOs . You turned around to see all boys into the performance.

You kept your eye on Hoseok, not wanting to lose him.

The show ended and you quickly grabbed Taehyungs hand.

“Don’t you want to meet them?” you asked him not waiting for an answer as you saw his grin appear.

You grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him across the floor to where you had your eyes on Hoseok.

You knew the others would follow along like ducklings.

You didn’t realize how many people were there as you squeezed yourself through the crowd. When did they all show up?

You appeared in front of Hosoek who looked confused as you approached him.

“Hey” he said in a low voice, trying to seduce you yet confused as you still held Taehyungs wrist.

“Hi, you’re Yoongis friend yes?” you asked knowing the answer “Agust D” He corrected “yeah I know him”.

“Cool. Where is he I have his biggest fans here”

You heard shuffling behind you knowing full well the kids did not appreciate your comment.

“Uhh, yeah Um I think he left to an after party”. Hoseok said slowly obviously trying to think of a way to deny you kindly.

“Okay, cool, Ill just call him” you said, annoyed at him thinking you are some stalker.

“Okay well I see you there then” Hoseok smirked at you.

You smiled back at him and you pulled out your phone. You called Yoongi without second thinking and were surprised to hear him answer.

“Hello” he said.

“Yoongi! Hi, I saw you, you were so great!”

“oh” Yoongi sounded surprised, “thanks”

“Yeah, listen so I brought my little cousin and he wanted to meet you, he thinks your great. I think he wants your picture”.

“What the-“ you heard Jaebum say as his friends laughed at him.

“Uhh yeah sure, wow that’s great” You could hear Yoongis smile form as he laughed. ‘Okay hey, I’m at my place, you guys can come over I can meet you there”.

“Okay sure text me the place”.

At the car Jaebum was so confused on how he left so quickly after the show.

“How is he home already? does he think he’s like a celebrity”. He laughed as he turned a corner. “Why did he run off”.

“Yo, that’s Agust D!” Taehyung replied “he was lit”.

“Jaebum, he lives like 10 minutes away, he probably just didn’t want to linger”.

“Still did he have to zoom out”

The kids continue to laugh as you pulled up to a house. It had a fresh green grass and roses all along the side.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting for Yoongis house, but a white picket fence wasn’t it. Didn’t Hoseok say he was at an after party, why was it so quiet. All you saw was a light through the windows.

“Taehyung, since you’re his biggest fan you go up”

“What, why you’re his friend”

“Is this even his house” Jungkook asked “I thought there was a party”.

“I know me too” You replied.

“Go, Tae” you said once more. Jaebum parked the car in front of the house across the street.

“I’ll go Jimin said. “I’ll go…” Jimin didn’t finish his sentence. You were confused with his words, why did he sound so nervous. You turned around in your seat to see him staring at his hands in his lap.

“I’ll go” he repeated, more to himself.

“Okay…then go” Tae said furrowing his eyebrows.

Jaebum started to laugh, “Yo man, are you okay?”

“I’ll go!”

“Then GO!” Jungkook said pushing his side.

“I’ll go” Jimin said again.

“I’ll-”

Jimin looked up with his eyes tightly closed.

“Jimin” you began “are you-”

“I’ll GO FOR A KISS”. Jimin shouted and caused everyone to look at him. Your eyes went wide, Taehyungs jaw dropped.

“ll go for a kiss” Jimin said once more, quietly this time. “A kiss, I’ll go”.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked directly at you.

Oh hell no.

Before you can even protest Jimin gets up and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“OH man Holly –“

“What the h-”

And Taehyungs laughter is all you hear as you felt your cheeks flush red and warmth swept all over your body. At that point, Jimin dashed out the car and ran up to the door.

You turned around in you seat, “Shut up” you said, as the kids all laughed.

You felt yourself sink lower in your seat. Why was Jimin so cute?

“Hey, Hey” Jungkook said trying to contain his laughter, “he’s waving at us”.

You looked out to see Jimin waving at you guys.

“Come on let’s just go” you said trying to get away from their jeering.

As you got closer you slowed your steps until Jungkook was next to you, you quickly shuffled behind him not wanting to face Jimin alone.

“Yo man” Jungkook said as he slapped Jimins shoulder laughing. You quickly pushed past them both, as Jimin was distracted with Jungkook, and entered the house to see the girl Yoongi was with sitting on the floor with a cup in her hand. You heard low music playing and a lava light in the corner. Where you at someone’s parents’ house? Why was everything so clean and normal looking. You were expecting one old couch with weed reeking out the walls, but everything was…normal?

“Ha, so you made it” You looked down to see Hoseok laying on the floor in front of the couch.

“Yeah, I did” you said awkwardly. What kind of party was this?

You felt so out of place. This was obviously a let’s go home, listen to slow jazz, while we drink wine, and reminisce on our friendship kind of party.

“Hey, y/n” You heard Yoongi say as he come from around some corner. He was followed by Namjoon who looked to have just taken a shower. “Thanks for coming, what did you think of the show?”

“It was great, good job!” you told him, earning a smile “You were all great” you continued saying, taking your gaze to meet Namjoons who only grinned showcasing his dimples.

You saw some girl come out of a room, that turned out to be the kitchen. She carried out a big bowl full of some garlic and shrimp pasta. What the hell was going on? You were obviously intruding.

“Umm, so I don’t mean to take much of your time” you said as you saw them all gather at the coffee table.

“No, No worries” Yoongi said.

“I just have my uhh… cousin who wanted a picture” you let out, remembering your lie. You heard Jungkook snicker behind you. Yoongi looked at you smiling as if he admired you.

“Right” he said slowly.

“Right” you said in a daze. gee, what a man.

“umm” so you said quickly, “So this is Jaebum” turning around and gesturing to him like a gameshow host. “He’s my cousin and this Is Taehyung, and Jimin, and Jungkook” Your purposely avoided Jimin’s glare. “They’re your fans and would like a picture”.

“Really?” Yoongi asked them.

“Yes really!” You answered for them, “Both of you!” you quickly added remembering Namjoon.

“Wow, already more fans, baby” you heard the second girl who brought the pasta out say. “But don’t forget I’m your number one fan” she pinched Namjoons cheeks as she said this.

“Not anymore” you thought you heard Jungkooks whisper. You turn to him to seem him glaring at the girls hands on Namjoons face. You finally meet Jimins eyes only to telepathy communicate to each other that you both heard that.

“Thanks” Yoongi said, his smile growing larger. “Here, before all that, why don’t you guys come and eat, we got plenty for everyone!” Yoongi said scouting over to a side.

“Sure thanks” Jung kook said before any of you can politely decline.

You saw as each of them made their way over to the small table. Jungkook took a place next to Namjoon and Taehyung squeezed himself next to Yoongi. Jimin and Jaebum simply seated themselves on the couch. Not wanting to be noticeable you followed suit.

“This is so embarrassing” you whispered to Jaebum

“You said they were your friends” Jaebum whispered back.

“No like that!” you protested.

“Seokjin! Bring out more plates and sodas, we got company” Hoseok shouted. Hoseok said. Hoseok singed. Hoseok verbally articulated those beautiful words. Seokjin.

Seokjin.

Seokjin was here.

Seokjin was in this house.

You were going to see Seokjin.

You were going to hear Seokjin.

You were going to breathe Seokjin

You were going to meet Seokjin

Seokjin.

He walked in with mismatched plates. He placed them on the table. He walked out and came back with a couple bottles of soda after having counted the new guest. He walked back out and came back with a fruit bowl. He came back with a chair and placed it off the side of the coffe table sitting directly infront of you. You saw as he got himself a blue medium sized plate and served himself a large amount of the pasta. He begins eating as he placed the plate on his lap and took out a set of chopsticks and a fork from his gray sweater. You saw him eat away happily. You thought you heard him making pleasing noise as he swallowed every bite deliciously. He kept on eating laughing occasionally as the others joked. You did the same you didn’t even realize you had a plate set up for you, be it from you own hands on auto pilot or Jaebum who served you. You took a bit from your food not taking your eyes off of the way Seokjins eyes crinkled.

The pasta hit you taste buds. It was delicious.

“Wow…this is good!” You exclaimed out loud. You didn’t mean to, but as soon as the “wow” came out you thought it would be too awkward to stop there.

You looked up to see Seokjin staring at you. His eyes meet yours.

“Thanks!” he said. You couldn’t even see his lips form those words as your eyes were captured by his stare. You couldn’t look away not when you held eye contact with Seokjin after he directed his word towards you. He knew you.

He now knows who you are.

He knows the color of your eyes and the features of you face. He knows the sound of your voice and the way you munch your food. He knows you like this taste. And given the fact that he said thanks, it seems that you are eating his food. Seokjin made this?

You are eating Seokjin’s food.

Suddenly the food taste so much better. You greedily took another mouthful of the pasta as Seokjin directed his attention back to the group.

This time you made sure to savior the taste. The way the creamy sauce slid down your throat.

You looked at Seokjin to see him looking at you curiously. He then looked at Jaebum sitting next to you.

“Who are you guys?” he asked confidently. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before”.

Your face reddens. This is your time to give him your name. For him to put a name to your face.

“I’m Taehyung” Taehyung said from the floor.

“I’m Jimin”

“I’m Jungkook”.

“ Jaebum”

Your turn.

“Hi, I’m __”.

The girls said Hi after every name. Seokjin nodded after you gave all your names.

“I’m Seokjin” He said.

The rest introduced themselves properly. There was only an awkward moment as everyone tried to connect the dots on how you all ended up eating pasta together tonight.

Yoongi spoke up, “I know ___ from this poetry class I had. I recently ran up to her the other day and she told me she was interested in rapping”. He said the word, “rapping” as a question. You didn’t look like the rapping type whatever that was, but then again, neither did Namjoon.

“Yeah” you piped up continuing your lie.

“Yeah, so I told you I’ll introduce you to some people” Yoongi turned to Namjoon. “This is Namjoon he produces the beats with me he’s also a good lyricist. I trust him with everything”. He turned to Hoseok, “Hoseok here is learning too, He’s really improving, you guys can learn together!” He said with fake enthusiasm as he smirked at Hoseok.

Hoseok ignored him and said “Yeah, I’m planning on releasing a mixtape soon”.

Namjoon snorted “Soon, when’s that for you? In ten years”.

The group chuckled slightly. Obviously, some inside joke. You saw as Jungkook and Taehyung also laughed. How embarrassing.

The room went silent, so you thought you should speak up.

“Umm yeah... I was thinking of…maybe, I’m not sure yet” You added not wanting to commit to anything yet. You were only here for Seokjin. “You guys performed great! I’m so glad I came”.

“Thanks” Namjoon and Yoongi said in unison.

“But yeah” you continued “I brought my cousin with me, Jaebum, and his friends came too”.

“Ahh, right” Yoongi said “You guys wanted a picture?” he asked shyly. Cute.

“Yeah, that’ll be great” Taehyung said, obviously more accepting to your lie after meeting his newfound idols.

The boys all got up and placed themselves next to Yoongi and Namjoon who stood up and posed.

You got up and took out your phone to use your phone camera. You and the girls all took pictures and counted down telling the boys to pose this way and that way.

It was enduring to see Yoongis and Namjoons smiles as they posed with their new fans.

After you were all done taking pictures and you heard Jungkook asking for Namjoons twitter handle and soundcloud, you turned around to sit back on the coach, but you bumped into Seokjin.

“Sorry” you both said.

You saw how Seokjin was taking pictures of the boys, looking like a proud father.

Was he behind you the whole time taking pictures?

Did he smell you? Did you smell nice? Was your hair greasy? How did your body look? Did you look flattering from behind?

You sat down with a pout annoyed with being taken off guard. As you all settled down Seokjin begin to clean up the area.

“Ayy can I just crash here?’ Hoseok asked.

“On the couch” Yoongi replied to him.

“It’s okay Hoseok” Seokjin said “you can stay in my room”.

So, they all lived together besides Hoseok.

“Thanks, I wasn’t looking forward to Namjoon’s late night juice breaks”

“what is that supposed to mean?’ Namjoon asked confused.

“Where are you going?” __ (yoongi stans) asked

“Me? I’m gonna go and take a look” Seokjin said. He stood and crossed his arms looking at the group as if he was prepared for attacks.

And attacks did come.

“Again?”

“Dam are you for real?”

“take a look at what?”

“It’s his hunting”

“He’s patrolling the area, show him some respect”

“He’s protecting us”

“Your going to get hurt some day bro”

“Stop going alone”

“You’re so wirde”

“This is a bad idea”

Yoongi turned to Taehyung and whispered “This guy believes in aliens”

...Aliens?

“Hey stop it” Seokjin shouted.

“First” He begin holding out a finger.

“I know what I’m doing”

“Second” He held out a second finger. He turned to look at Jimin who was the closet to him.

“Yes, I believe in Alien’s, so I’m going to go look for them. I do this at least once a month. I have done my research I know what to look for and what precautions to take”.

“Thirdly” another finger “I have been doing this for 2 years now after reading a journal entry of extraterrestrial life. You can say I began my research from then on. And lastly nothing you can say will change my mind. I am looking out for aliens because I believe they are around us”.

“Four months ago, I saw a UFO over the trees down by the Myo forest. I’ve been going there since to see if I can see them again. I wasn’t able to capture an image or sound of it but now I am more prepared and alert”.

Seokjin said all this as red color began to slowly take over his face. He was confident in his belief, but he was aware of all the different reactions he could get. His friends knew him, but he wasn’t sure of what the new people would say or if they would ridicule him.

Namjoon giggled to himself the whole time while Hoseok looked at all the boys face trying to guess their reactions. Yoongi had his fist clenched with an emotionless face. He looked ready to fight anyone who would speak against his friend.

“And before any of you ask, no you cannot come with me, I don’t need a science lesson following me”.

“What!” Namjoon said defensively “I was just letting you know. I also believe in life outside our own universe, but we also need to look at facts and calculate the probability of them hanging around our solar system”.

Seokjin looked at him.

“Okay well I’m going to go get ready” he said as he disappeared into the hallway.

The room was silent for a third time.

You didn’t even know how to react. Believing in aliens wasn’t a big deal but the way that his friends were silent and how defensive and red Seokjin has gotten makes it all suspicious.

Was Seokjin some obsessed crazy alien believer?

“So how much does he believe in aliens?” Jaebum said.

You didn’t know if you should slap him or thank him for asking.

“Uhh a lot, I mean he’s not crazy!” Namjoon said shaking his head.

“Almost there” Hoseok whispered.

“Almost there” Jimin repeated out loudly.

“Hey, its not that bad” Yoongi said with a sigh.” He believes in them passionately he’s not some crazy person”.

You saw as they all kind of looked at each other and chuckled to themselves. Even Jaebum was shaking his head. Undoubtedly there were all thinking that Seokjin was on the verge of lunacy.

You didn’t like this.

Why were they speaking so badly of Seokjin? They thought of him as a crazy person.

Seokjin wasn’t crazy. Maybe.

Either way you felt like you needed to defend your man.

“I believe in Aliens” you said strongly.

You honestly had no opinion for them.

Everyone looked at you. Since you looked like you were ready to fight.

“Me too” ___ (namjoon stan) said “but not the way Seokjin does”.

You were going to slap her.

“I wish I could go…alien…hunting” even to you, as you said the words, they sounded crazy.

Alien hunting.

“Go with Seokjin then” Hoseok challenged you.

You crouched back in your seat.

Yeah” Jeabeum said patting your shoulder, “maybe if you ask him he’ll let you go”.

As much as you wanted to be with Seokjin, you weren’t sure about being in a dark forest alone with him, when even his friend thought of him as borderline crazy looking for aliens.

“uhh I don’t know” you said “He looked like he likes to go alone I wouldn’t want to be a bother to him”

“I’m sure you won’t be” yoongi said encouragingly. Obviously not getting what you were trying to say.

Hoseok laughed at you.

“I’m sure he will, he seems like a nice guy” Jimin pushed. The group (besides Yoongi) picked up on your hesitation.

“You could come” a voice bellowed from the hallway.

You all turned to look at Seokjin standing in the hallway.

“You can come with me”. He smiled at you with determination.

He was obviously like Yoongi, thinking you were sincere.

Which you were. You would like to be with Seokjin, only you would like to be doing some other activity and not alien hunting.

“nah, I think she’s good” Jaebum answered for you.

“It’s too soon” Hoseok said.

They all looked worried now. They were all trashing you at first. They didn’t think Seokjin would agree and they didn’t want you going out with him at night in some forest. You both just meet. His friends didn’t know if you were crazy and your cousin didn’t know if he was trustworthy.

Seokjin walked up to you. He held out his hand at you.

“Let’s go” he said to you. He smiled and winked at you. And suddenly.

Suddenly.

The world was beautiful.

The world was okay.

You looked at his outstretched arm to his shoulder, up the sides of his neck, to his lips, his nose, and settled on his eyes. His eyes with genuine, filled with concern and admiration. That maybe he finally has someone who understands him. As much as his friends will fight for him he knew they didn’t get it, but maybe you did. He wanted to believe that.

You wanted to believe that.

“Okay” you said as you took hold of his hand. Your mind didn’t register the “OOs” coming from the kids nor the protest of his friends.

You shyly held onto his hand and felt your smile appear.

You were going with Seokjin. You were holding Seokjin’s hand.

He knows your name.

He knows your face.

He held out his hand for you. He smiled at you. He asked you to go with him.

To the forest. At night. Alone

To go alien hunting.

#college au #seokjin #bts #bts x reader #jin #aliens #bts fic #bts college au #seokjin x reader

18 notes · View notes

reginaofdoctorwho · 4 years

Text

okay let me talk about my crush for a minute because I am literally the spirit of the hey Darren vine at this point for him

when i first met him i got really shy because he was handsome and nice and smart and instant crush. could not talk to or in front of him for a year. he still would say hi to me in the hallways or make jokes or remind me when we had a scholastic bowl club meeting.

one time when i was having a really bad self esteem day (there are stories there) and I was talking to him about scholastic bowl i asked if he had any tips for the year for me (he graduated the last year. I'm graduating next year) he joked "just be smart" and i said something about being not smart. "says who?" "says me" "well, that's stupid." "ah, so we're in agreement then" and at this point im starting to panic a little because oh no now I'll just be annoying him because i didnt think why am i so dumb? and he instead tells me that "no. it's stupid that you're calling yourself dumb. you're very smart and you just lack confidence. You shouldn't talk bad about yourself self." which was incredibly sweet! I had friends at the same time who would just say something like "you know, you really are pretty dumb"

when Notre Dame burnt down our band teacher kept updating the band on the condition of the organ (because it was his first instrument I think?) and one day he tells us that normally in fires, the metal bits used in construction will melt and drip in the organ pipes and ruin them forever, but there was a platform about that luckily was shielding the organ from the falling metal and there were pictures of the dripping metal or something. I remember my crush saying "that's so metal" which made me laugh, and he turned and looked at me from across the room and smiled.

he offered a couple days ago to give me any advice he can about college since he didn't know if I chose yet. when I said i was applying to one in august and i had a major planned for already, he told me to tell him if I need help with it and that the college is a great one and I'd love it there.

he heard I had a solo for the chorus's broadway cabaret concert and said "oh shit m, that's really cool!" and asked me about the song i was singing

whenever i needed an article for the school newspaper he would write one. band? he wrote like five in one year, and I think two about scholastic bowl. he'd also go around telling other people to get one done. (he wasn't even part of the newspaper club)

he would always make sure to thank me whenever i brought snacks in for the scholastic bowl practices

he saw me in the hall one time after school the day before winter break, decided not to leave and go home after all, and went to the first (and only, unfortunately) meeting of a poetry club I was trying to start. I don't remember him ever showing an interest in poetry before, but he stayed for the whole meeting and was really nice the whole time

even before the "don't call yourself dumb thing" he one time asked me how old I was the month after my birthday, I fucking forgot how old I was, I said the wrong age, then like 2 minutes later I remembered and was like "ah fuck wait what month is it?" so

he's one of very few guys at the school who has never acted creepy towards me

he would try to make me feel included in scholastic bowl, especially back when I was the only girl on our team, and explained the rules to me and would tell me that I did know a lot of the answers, I just needed to be confident

he wrote in my yearbook that i was the nicest person in our school and then next year when the school called him back to train the new stage tech people I saw him and blurted out "What are you doing here?!" and he also made all the other members of scholastic bowl that year sign my yearbook

My friends actually like him?? Which they never usually do with one of my crushes. One of my friends was like "oh it's him? Yeah I can see why. He's nice, cute, smart, kinda buff" which I guess he is?? he was on the school soccer and tennis teams I think?

he's honestly such a nice person and I have the biggest crush on him

1 note · View note

unfortunate-stranger-losers · 4 years

Photo

All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Twenty-Three - Quigley goes on the Lam

They planned out their route as soon as Quigley had stopped crying. When he calmed down, Inky returned and led Beatrice to Monty’s chocolate stash, which she quickly gave to Quigley when they went down to the eerily empty Reptile Room. Beatrice spread out the map Quigley had previously marked on the table, placing a few lamps on either end to keep it open, and then she traced multiple possible paths to Prufrock. She had a very distinct frown when she was concentrating, one that Klaus and Sunny also shared. Bertrand watched her carefully, occasionally glancing at the chair Quigley had curled up in, though the boy also peered over, watching Beatrice mess with the map with a sort of fascination.

“I think our quickest route, assuming the children are at Prufrock- it should only take them a day or two by bus to get there from Paltryville, where we assume they were last, and it took us about a week to get here, so they should be at the school already. Considering how much gas is left in the car, we should have about two days straight before it gives out, so Quigley can stay in the backseat and we can switch who’s driving. We’ll abandon the car instead of filling up on gas- people will notice the stolen car. After that it’s a week’s walk to the school, but we can cut that time in half if we use public transportation to hit this city, this city, and this one. It may take longer depending on if we can find a place to sleep or if we have to walk all night, and if Olaf catches up to us, we’ll take two days to divert him by traveling in this direction. It’s not a short trip by any means, but it’s the fastest way to our children.”

“Sounds good.” Bertrand nodded.

“Wow.” Quigley said. “You know the city layout that well? Public transportation isn’t even marked on this one.”

“Well, you learn a thing or two after being raised in a cult and then stuck on the run for fifteen years.” Beatrice smirked. “Quigley, pack as much food as you can so we don’t have to stop for it on our drive. Bertrand, let’s find new bags to store supplies in, there should be some around here somewhere. Then we head out.”

Quigley met them outside, tilting his head curiously as the adults did their best to hug a snake. Inky gave them cuddles with its head, then hissed and slithered away.

“What’s that about?” he asked, moving over.

Beatrice smiled sadly. “Inky has somewhere it wants to be, so it’s going to catch up to us later.”

“It’ll find us. That is a smart baby eldritch horror.” Bertrand said.

“Well, I got the snac- sorry, baby what?”

“You got the food?” Beatrice asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Quigley shrugged and slid open his bag, rifling through it. “Almond bags, granola bars, whatever was still nonperishable in the house basically. And then I shoved all the water bottles that could fit.”

“Good thinking.” Beatrice said.

“I got some books, too!” Quigley added, showing them a stack he had under his arm. “For the ride. I can read them out loud if you guys want, to keep us entertained. I used to do that on roadtrips with my siblings.”

“Thank you, Quigley, but that’ll just tire you out.” Bertrand smiled, taking some books from him so he could swing his bag back over his shoulder. “We can explain some things to you on the drive. VFD, the Snickets-”

“Our kids.” Beatrice added. “And you can tell us about your family.”

“Yeah.” Quigley paused, and then smiled. “I’m seeing my siblings again!”

“Hell yeah you are!” Beatrice said, holding up a hand for a high-five, an opportunity Quigley quickly took. “Let’s get in the car.”

Quigley smiled and ran to the backdoor, jumping in and dropping his bag on the ground beside him. He hesitated, though, as Beatrice and Bertrand got in the front seat, his hand hovering over the door handle.

“You guys are safe, right? You’re not gonna kidnap me?”

Beatrice and Bertrand shared an incredulous look, and Bertrand said, “You only thought to ask this now?”

“Father used to say I have the opposite of trust issues. I trust a lot.”

“Ah.” Bertrand sighed, then turned back. “No, we won’t kidnap you. In fact, soon as we find your siblings, we are finding you a safe, permanent place to live away from all this bullshit.”

“Promise?”

As Beatrice started the car, Bertrand leaned his hand back and took Quigley’s, shaking it slightly. “Promise, kid.”

“Good.” Quigley shut the door, and then said, “I suspected you were trustworthy, anyway. You’re very well-read.”

“Oh, God.”

The first day of driving, Quigley was mostly quiet. He pulled out a purple commonplace book to take notes in, only now and again asking a question while they talked. Every so often he’d throw in a trick question to try and figure out if they were lying, but thankfully they were pretty honest with him, so he relaxed quite a bit. He ended up passing out a few hours into the drive, apparently not having done much sleeping the last few days. Beatrice and Bertrand parked every few hours to swap who was driving and who was sleeping, and once Quigley fell asleep, they kinda stopped chatting. Not much to talk about. Not anything that wouldn’t make them feel worse.

When Quigley awoke, they pulled over at a gym to freshen up, and then took off again. Quigley started talking, then. About his siblings. It sounded like Klaus would be good friends with Duncan, you said he was into research? Duncan’s an aspiring journalist, he’s amazing. He’d love Isadora, too, she’s really into poetry. They could talk about that together.

When he talked about his parents, his voice fell, and he curled up a little, muttering about how they used to travel a lot- now he understood it was VFD, and now he wasn’t sure if he liked that- but when they were home they spent all their time with their children.

“They were… great.” Quigley muttered, trying not to cry.

After a pause, Beatrice, who wasn’t driving, turned and put her hand over Quigley’s. “You must miss them very much.”

“Yeah.” Quigley nodded, and he shook slightly. Jacques hadn’t said that to him, hadn’t mentioned his parents after saying he knew them. “Did you… know them well?”

“Only a little, I’ll admit.” Beatrice said. “We saw each other in class. Went on a couple missions. But… I know they were good people, Quigley. Wonderful people. And…” she patted his hand again. “We’re honored to help their children any way we can.”

Quigley smiled. “What… what did you guys do?”

“Once we went to Paltryville, we were in a large group.” she said. “We nearly burnt the town down but we stopped the fire so technically we were the heroes in that situation.”

“I got hypnotized.” Bertrand said.

“Hypnosis?” Quigley bounced slightly, leaning forwards. “You didn’t tell me that! What’s it like?”

Beatrice shot Bertrand a concerned glance, and he sighed as he turned a bend in the road. “Wish I could tell you. But you’re kinda… amnesiac during it.”

“Wow.” Quigley said, fascinated.

Beatrice smiled, bit her lip, and said, “Your Mother trained crows, right?”

“Carrier birds. She loved them.” Quigley smiled. “We all kinda absorbed the basics just by listening to her.”

“Did we tell you I trained bats?”

“No!” Quigley bounced again, pulling out his commonplace book and flipping to a new page. “How different is it from birds?”

“Well, they sleep in the day, usually.” Beatrice said. “They’re nocturnal.”

“So were you when you were younger.” Bertrand said.

Beatrice laughed and punched him on the shoulder.

When they ran out of gas on the second day, night was already starting to fall. They managed to ditch the car at the edge of a town, and Beatrice helped Quigley shoulder his bag before they made their way through, passing building after building. Finally they found a hotel, and Bertrand went in while Beatrice and Quigley waited outside. When he came out, Quigley said, “Did you get a room?”

“No, of course not, we don’t have cash.” Bertrand said. “But I managed to scope out which rooms are empty. We’re gonna break into one of those, come on.”

Quigley jumped, and then stuttered, “Um- okay?”

“Higher floor is less likely to get sold late at night.” Beatrice said. “We can climb in through a window.”

“Um-” Quigley began.

“Room 315.” Bertrand said. “Quigley, get in there and make it to the stairwell, wait outside 315 until we open the door. Don’t go with anyone else.”

Quigley nodded. “What if you get caught?”

Beatrice and Bertrand shared a sad look, and then she said, “We won’t. Go on in.”

Quigley nodded, quickly scampering into the building. He kept his head low, trying to remain unnoticed by the other people milling about the lobby. He found the stairs quick and raced up, playing with his hair to calm his nerves- it had gotten a bit longer than he normally kept it, but he was fine with that. He actually kinda liked it. Now he could see why Isadora was so excited to have longer hair instead of matching her brothers. It was fun.

He made it to the third floor and pushed the stairwell door open, cautiously creeping down the hall, jumping when he heard noises from other rooms. His mind drifted to the idea of them getting caught, of people grabbing and shouting at them that they shouldn’t be here, getting handed over to the police…

He stopped outside of Room 315 and started playing with his hair again. That would distract him, at least. The soothing, swishing feeling… it was so nice. God, he needed to grow it out a bit more. Maybe to the shoulders. That’d be nice without getting distracting. If it was too long it’d fall in his face and he wasn’t sure how he’d keep it out.

He jumped as the door in front of him started to rattle, and stepped back as it swung open. Bertrand smiled down at him, put a finger to his mouth, and then gestured for him to come in. Quigley beamed and skipped in, watching as Beatrice shut the window, tossing her hair back like it was no big deal.

“Can you show me how to do that?” Quigley asked, as soon as Bertrand shut the door.

“When we have the time, yeah.” Beatrice nodded. “We’ll sleep here and set out in the morning. We’ve got a long walk but if we can get to the bus station by tomorrow night we can sleep as it drives.”

“I’m good at walking. We’ll be fine.” Quigley said. He moved to a bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

“Will you be alright?” Bertrand asked. He dimmed the lights some more, as Beatrice sat by the window to start their first watch.

“Sure.” Quigley said. He hesitated, and then said, “Just wake me up in an hour or so, I can keep watch.”

“Oh, honey, no.” Beatrice shook her head, smiling. “We’re used to this. You get your sleep, okay?”

“But I’m on the run with you now.”

“No,” Bertrand said quickly, “We’re just getting you to your siblings. You go to sleep, okay? Get some rest.”

“I want to help.”

“You can help by getting rest. We’ve got a long walk.” Bertrand reminded him, sitting on the other bed and smiling at him. “Goodnight, kid.”

“...okay.”

Quigley ended up crawling into bed, but after several minutes of laying there, he found he wasn’t able to calm down enough to rest. His head felt a bit bleary- that feeling when you’re tired but still can’t sleep. That was normal, right?

So he rolled over and said, “I can’t sleep. Can’t I just… stay up with you guys?”

Bertrand and Beatrice sighed, and Bertrand moved over to Quigley, sitting beside his bed. “What do you normally do to fall asleep?”

Quigley shrugged. “Nothing, really. I don’t sleep a lot.”

“Insomnia?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Bertrand smiled and glanced over at Beatrice, who nodded at him, before turning back. “When my kids were younger, I’d just recite poetry when they were too nervous to go to sleep.”

Quigley frowned at him. “Yeah but I’m thirteen, I’m not a baby.”

“It might help. Sometimes it’s easier to fall asleep with something in the background- music, recitation, calming noises, that stuff.”

“We don’t have music,” Beatrice said, hugging her knees and smiling, “But we do have my husband and his wonderful extensive knowledge of John Godfrey Saxe.”

Quigley hesitated. “Sometimes Isadora would read poetry til we passed out. I guess it might work. If you’re okay with it.”

“Sure.” Bertrand laughed. “My kids think it’s embarrassing so I usually just do it with Sunny. What do you know about John Godfrey Saxe?”

“A bit, from Isadora.” Quigley said, before grabbing a pillow and hugging it. “She’s a poet like you, I think I mentioned?”

“Yeah.” Bertrand nodded. “I can’t wait to meet her. We’ll talk your ears off.”

“I can’t wait.”

Bertrand smiled, and then sat against the dresser, resting his arm on his knee. “Well, The Blind Men and the Elephant. And you try to sleep, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Bertrand looked over to Beatrice, who just beamed at him and waited.

“It was six men of Indoostan, To learning much inclined, Who went to see the Elephant (Though all of them were blind), That each by observation Might satisfy his mind.”

Despite his insomnia, Quigley was asleep by the final verse, exhaustion pulling him again. Bertrand stood up, making sure to tuck the boy in and ensure he was actually sleeping and not just pretending. He smiled and said, “That always worked on Klaus.”

“And my singing worked on Violet.” Beatrice sighed. “We’ll try that with him next, I guess.”

Bertrand sat on the other bed, glancing cautiously at his wife. “Should we have even taken him with us?”

Beatrice didn’t meet his eye. “If we didn’t, he’d either be abandoned in that house or taken to VFD. Either way, he’d be fucked.”

“If Olaf catches up to us-”

“He won’t.”

Bertrand sighed and moved to sit beside his wife on the windowsill. He reached over and took her hand, and played with her fingers for a bit. She smiled and relaxed against the wall, leaning her head on her shoulder.

“If he does,” Bertrand said seriously, “We’ll have him run. Pretend he doesn’t know us.”

“Pretend we don’t know him. So Olaf has no interest.”

“That way at least he won’t be…”

They were silent again. Then Bertrand hesitantly pulled his wife’s sleeve back and ran his hand over a dark bruise. Beatrice didn’t move, but she did shiver slightly.

“I never thought he-”

“There’s a lot we never thought he could do.” Beatrice whispered. “A lot we never thought we could do.”

Bertrand moved his hand back to hers, and squeezed it. “Bea… it still doesn’t give him the right to-”

“I know.”

Bertrand shut his eyes. “The things he did-”

“I know.”

“The things he said-” He clenched her palm again, and she leaned forwards, using her free hand to cup his face.

“We won’t let any of it happen.” she said, but Bertrand could feel her trembling. “Not to our babies. Not to anyone.”

“Beatrice…” he slid his hand to her arm again, and then said, his voice breaking, “If- if he goes near Violet-”

“He won’t.” Beatrice said certainly, that fire lighting behind her eyes again. “We’ll kill him.”

“That’s what scares me, Bea. I- I never thought he could- he would even think-”

Beatrice sighed. “Time flies by, and carries away our tender caresses for ever. Time flies far from this happy oasis and does not return.”

“We are not sure of sorrow, and joy was never sure.” Bertrand replied. “Today will die tomorrow, time stoops to no man’s lure.”

“Farewell past, happy dreams of days gone by. The roses in my cheeks already are faded.”

“Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf.”

They looked at each other, and then Beatrice leaned further, giving her husband a soft, comforting kiss.

#asoue #asoue au #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #runaway baudelaires au #all those things they couldn't say #mine #asoue fanfiction #my fanfic

5 notes · View notes

marypsue · 5 years

Text

an author meme because @viletorpedo tagged me and I think we may have descended into a vicious author meme tagging cycle

Author Name: MaryPSue. My ffn is different, but also now defunct, so I don't see much purpose in putting that username here. This was a username I chose when I first signed up for tumblr back in 2011, based on a whim and the main character of a parody webcomic I was considering making. (It never came to fruition.)

Fun fact: the 'P' doesn't stand for anything and is really just there for aesthetic purposes, though it has variously been used as an initial for Perfect, Pitch, and Perdita depending on context and circumstance.

Fandoms You Write For: Anything moderately popular which has either a dead kid as the main character, a fraught central sibling relationship, a female character Cursed With Awesome, or all of the above. Probably best known for stuff for Gravity Falls (and Gravity Falls Transcendence AU) and Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood fandoms, though I'm currently exercising my right to be the most basic of fandom bitches by primarily pouring my energy into canons where Tom Hiddleston portrays a dark-haired woobie who thinks of nothing but murder all day. (I know there's got to still be at least a ghost of a Crimson Peak fandom out there somewhere, dammit.)

Where You Post: Here, and AO3. Most things end up in both places, though I don't know what tumblr's policies re: links and the main search are anymore so often there isn't an AO3 link included on my tumblr fic posts.

Most Popular One-shot: By kudos, that'd have to be...A Semi-Normal Life (Gravity Falls, Transcendence AU)! I didn’t expect this one.

Most Popular Multi-chapter Story: Again going by kudos, Raising Stakes (Gravity Falls).

Favourite Story You Wrote: Picking just one is very hard, but I'm going to put in a good word, at this close date to Halloween, for Samhain (Rise of the Guardians, Guardians of Childhood). You don't need any familiarity with the source material to read this one; it's a ghost story and a romance and a tragedy with what is arguably a happy ending. Well, a happy ending for a ghost story.

Story You Were Nervous To Post: Definitely all of them, though I'll admit to a particular anxiety about posting others (MCU, Thor). Partly because the last thing I'd posted had not been working out on the writing end and I had to take it down because I was so unhappy with it (something I'd only done once before in my entire fic career) and I was completely unable to tell whether this was any better; partly because of the subject matter; partly simply because I have avoided a good 90% of all the MCU movies, especially the crossover-y Avengers ones, and so did not have the level of knowledge of canon that I like to have before posting things so I can be sure I haven't got simple details wrong. (Changing things deliberately from canon is one thing. Not knowing a thing which might turn out to have bearing on a fic is quite another.)

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Sometimes they're a bad pun that's relevant to the plot, premise, or themes of the story; sometimes they're stolen song lyrics or snippets of poetry; and recently I've caved and just started giving my silly working titles to oneshots, or titling them like episodes of Friends. (The SPN/MCU Thor crossover that I ended up taking down got the positively insipid and overused, if extremely relevant, Lana Del Rey lyric title 'gods & monsters' when I posted it, but the working title and probably the title I should have actually given it was 'oh whats THIS hot topic clearance bin nonsense now'.)

Do You Outline: Sort of.

Complete: 118 works and counting!

In Progress: Something Borrowed, Something Blues (Gravity Falls, Transcendence AU) and Imbalance (The Adventure Zone: Balance).

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: I'm sitting on a Crimson Peak/Haunting of Hill House (the novel, not any of the adaptations) crossover for Halloween that I'm really excited to share. I'm really thrilled with how it's turned out! It's a little experimental, a little romantic, a little queer, and hopefully a lot creepy.

Other than that, I've got a couple of continuations of things sitting in Drafts Limbo (there is some kind of ending in the works for The Family Business, though I have no idea how long it'll take to get there, and I have a host of ideas but no solid plot for what happens next in Girls In White Dresses), and some things I haven't shared because I'm not sure they're finished or that there's an audience for them or that they wouldn't be better off with the serial numbers filed off (a series of casefics where Dean Winchester gets cursed into a female body and is Not Particularly Happy About It At All, a definitely very hilarious probably non-canon-compliant oneshot where Darcy Lewis starts to suspect her new roommate is the supervillain of the week in disguise), but mostly my ideas lately have tended towards origfic. (Please. I have so many ideas and so many OCs for origfic. Help me.)

Do You Accept Prompts: Only if I announce I'm taking prompts on this blog. It does happen, though not as often as it used to.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited To Write: Hm. Well, right now I'm juggling ideas for two or three silly romance novels: one that's a thinly-veiled Mystery Trio AU featuring incubi; one where a burnt-out author of paranormal romances goes on vacation and ends up having to solve a murder that looks like it was committed by a werewolf to clear her name; and one that's a Hallmark seasonal romance movie for Halloween, where a high-powered marketing director comes home and ends up getting involved in the effort to save an old inn, which turns out to be haunted by an amorous ghost.

I've also got a couple of Stephen King-esque horror stories set in small rural towns that prominently feature flashbacks, and one mystery/thriller in the vein of definitely not bfu rpf where I've deliberately badly filed the serial numbers off the MCU's stable of actors to look at what happens when a megacorporation decides that its contracts should give it absolute control, not only of its actors' bodies, but also their minds. (That sounds...so serious and meaningful when I put it like that. Don't be fooled, it's 100% an excuse to reimagine the Avengers as a bunch of competent women who are actually friends, and also do that 'what if actors started becoming their characters' thing that's always fascinated me, with a side of social commentary blatantly tacked on.)

But...no real plans to write anything that's going to get posted anytime soon, sorry. Unless y'all are particularly interested in my original fiction.

Tagging: @gretchensinister, @pingnova, @seiya234, and anyone else who I didn't tag the first time I think this came around and who wants to do it.

#chatter #'see? im self-aware! i mock my own interests first so you can't!' she screams into the void

8 notes · View notes

twtd11 · 5 years

Note

(Late to the party but these have been sooo good) 48 && 86

I had to take a break from these because I got a tad burnt out but I think I’m good to finish them now:

Fake dating & I didn’t mean to turn you on

It’s the 1920s and Hecate and Pippa are both attending a literary salon in Paris (I’m sorta stealing this setting from a fic @miricleo and I are kinda writing together. Hey look, I found us a plot!).

Hecate is a poet. Pippa is a bookshop owner/publisher.

Hecate was drug there by Ada, while Pippa is hosting the salon. Hecate and Pippa bond over their mutual disdain for some modernist poets. Pippa doesn’t know that Hecate is also a poet when she raves over ‘HB’s’ writing. Hecate is silently pleased but still wants to go home.

The actual salon starts and even though she intended to remain silent, Hecate ends up in the middle of the debates often with Pippa agreeing with her but sometimes with Pippa taking the opposite view. It’s enough to keep Hecate interested in someone she would normally dismiss.

This goes on for a couple of months.

One day, Pippa has coaxed Hecate to come to lunch with her and while they’re out, Pippa’s rapscallion of a former boyfriend shows up. Hecate isn’t at the table at the time, but the stupid boy assumes that whomever Pippa is eating with must be involved with them. He’s harassing Pippa when Hecate returns. Hecate gets all glare-y as she walks back to the table and totally plays into the idea that she’s dating Pippa because it gets the idiot to go away.

Pippa apologizes profusely for idiot boy’s assumption but Hecate shrugs it off.

All three of them end up at the same party. Hecate’s there in some sort of suit and Pippa is totally in one of those slinky 1920s dresses. Idiot boy is there being an idiot. Hecate swoops in and saves Pippa and they end up having to pretend to be dating for the remainder of the night. There’s dancing. There’s lots of dancing. Hecate and Pippa end up slow dancing and getting quite close and they both get a little (a lot) turned on. There’s dilated pupils and heavy breathing and staring at each other. They’re about to kiss when something interrupts them. Hecate, embarrassed, retreats.

At some point, there’s a car and Pippa ends up having to sit on Hecate’s lap. She isn’t really trying to turn Hecate on, but she’s brushing her fingers over the nape of Hecate’s neck and occasionally breathing into Hecate’s ear or whispering things to her, and it’s completely driving Hecate crazy.

Hecate turns into a complete recluse after that because she freaks out. She stops attending the salons and everything. She does, however, write lots and lots of poetry about the situation and about how she’s completely in love with Pippa. It’s very angsty.

She ends up being forced to return to England by some terrible family member. She is miserable. She wishes she had made the most of her time in Paris. All she has now is her poetry.

She writes even more.

Ada manages to visit Hecate and Hecate uses the visit to smuggle her poetry out to get published.

Ada immediately takes the poems to Pippa to publish them. Pippa realizes that a bunch of the poems are about her, both when they were happy and flirting and after Hecate ran away and now during Hecate’s confinement.

Pippa publishes the poems and they become the talk of the town.

Somehow Pippa devises a way to get Hecate released from the clutches of said evil relative.

Hecate and Pippa have a tearful reunion and decamp back to Paris where they live happily ever after (until the Nazis show up).

#hicsqueak #hecate hardboom #pippa pentangle #the worst witch

18 notes · View notes

demyrie · 5 years

Note

I'm curious but why did you delete JAM? It was one of my favorite JxD fics and I never got to finish reading it.

ahhhh oh dear, yeah, that happened.

So, for everyone arriving, I wrote a fic called Just Another Mission for the Jak and Daxter game series, and Jak/Daxter pairing. Yes, the green haired elf protag with the fuzzy orange thing, which btw used to be a human and was a human in fic. I think I started it when I was maybe 14 (yikes omg) and a few years ago, I deleted it, and I don’t delete fics.

Rant and personal history ahead, but tldr; i deleted this particular fic because:

1) I became more and more uncomfortable with the way I’d treated certain characters without giving them respect or resolution (throwing around things like domestic abuse while being too young to properly understand What I Was Doing or How to Answer Very Triggered Friends Who Had the Misfortune of Reading This I’m So Goddamn Sorry, as well as falling into that Not Like Other Girls slash fan ditch of treating female characters like shit/obstacles to the main pairing WHICH IS JUST ******) as well as personally uncomfortable portrayals of obsession and taking advantage of people that turn my stomach to this day (see reason 4)

2) i got way in over my head with my own writing/style which was so obtuse and self-indulgent that I felt a great amount of shame over it, including the attention it had gotten, and the way it went to my head and turned me into an egotistic little shit. I was an asshole peacock and I regret it. There was a break where I got waylaid before the final confrontation in the fic (see reason 4, also a very bad time to get held up in any narrative) and when I returned to the story, i nearly cried because it was such a mess and I didn’t know what I was saying anymore. Finishing it was a struggle and I even remember one JnD fan friend being like “hey this chapter seemed really curt??? short?? not like you” and I was like YEAH THATS NOT ME ANYMORE god i hope

3) there was a sort of ... anti-JxD surge in my little pool from people I really respected and it made me think i was doing something wrong even just remembering it, so I cut off that memory.

4) it coincided with two ugly relationships in my life that marred it, and I just wanted it gone for my own mental health.

So anon, I’m very sorry that you never got to finish it. I had good intentions in mind and gave them a happy ending where they realized they loved each other, even if the journey there was difficult.

It both touched me and broke a piece of my heart when someone came to me years ago and asked me why I had deleted it, saying the story had given them the courage to come out as gay to their family. In that moment, overwhelmed with how ProblematicTM the whole story was, I was really struck with just ... how subjective our world experience is, and how so many things can mean so many different things to every single soul and how terrifyingly VALID peoples experiences are, no matter how they come by them. We’re all so unique and convoluted, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure -- and one man’s trigger is another man’s key to Becoming. But no matter how inspiring, I couldn’t bring myself to repost it.

Hopefully this will be the only fic i ever delete with relish. Jak and Daxter will always be a good memory for me, regardless. Thanks for the ask, anon.

(even more) personal stuff below the cut. tw for stalking, harassment, manipulation and emotional abuse.

So.

Im a firm believer in stories living beyond their authors (something that JK rowling doesnt seem to understand iykwim). I don’t normally delete past works, because while I wrote them, I also know that they’ve outgrown me as most narratives do: people are absolutely allowed to enjoy what they want to or need to, not just because I think said thing is reflective of my current work or jives with my current stage of life.

However, JAM was a particular Thing that Had to Go.

The timeline is hella fuzzy to me because I’ve blocked a lot of it out, but I was coming out of middle school and struggling with my mental health. On the real life side, I was stuck in a situation with a close friend of mine who was very fixated on us being in a relationship and the pining was loud enough to hear from the other side of the country. Wounded people pleaser that I was, I flipped (exhaustingly) back and forth between “i dont like you like that” and “but I want you to be happy so what if I tried liking you like that?” and there was massive amounts of hidden hurt and resentment and tension and abandonment complex activation and just ... a strangling of anything that made our friendship good for either of us.

Also she was a she. So. Yannoe, gay is difficult.

This definitely burnt me out on the “best friends pining” trope and is probably legit the ONLY reason I’m not equally in the erasermic and erasermight camp haha. That trope feels claustrophobic and draining to me, so I leave it for others to enjoy.

It also coincided with a married 45yo adult man luring me into a “platonic, ecstatic, boundary-breaking, you-are-my-beautiful-young-muse, words cannot express how much I love you” creative type relationship that inevitably turned possessive, domineering and manipulative. Within the bounds of the Renaissance Faire community, I thought he was a safe person and he was not, and his constant reassurance that I wasn’t like other women my age was absolutely hypnotizing to a undeveloped soul who really, really wanted to be special.

We traded poetry and tarot card readings over email. He bought me manga and shared stories about his time overseas and in the service. He made me props to go with my renaissance faire character and showed me where to find cheap leather so I could piece things together myself.

He also stalked me and owned me for the better part of a year and I only realized it once he started harassing a dear friend of mine overseas, whom I was visiting, about a package that he’d sent, which apparently he’d covered in original poetry to let me know how much he loved me But Not In a Hetero or Sexual Way Bro, so of course he didn’t want it to get lost in the postal system. So what is he going to do? Note my friend twice a day asking if its arrived until she inevitably, tearfully spills that this guy is stressing her out and who is he anyway?

My horrible secret was out, which only sounded horrible when I explained it to someone else. I realized this man was trying to follow me wherever i went and I got so fucking angry that he was messing with my friend that I had to stop it.

(He called me a cunt when I broke it off with him on the phone in the dark on the floor of my bedroom in the middle of the night so my parents wouldn’t hear, then sobbed and said he was sorry. I was so dissociated from the rush of anger and helplessness that it took for me to actually MAKE the call that all I could do was wiggle my foot and watch it in the reflection of the mirror on the back of my door, and think maybe I was a cunt but I wasn’t his cunt anymore. So there.

Afterward I slammed my forehead into the mirror a few times to make sure I’d actually done it and it wasn’t a dream.)

During all of this, I was writing this stupid fic. I think. Honestly, I don’t fucking know, but I can’t think of it without thinking of him and how i was devoured.

The stress of hiding this “totally wonderful but NORMAL PEOPLE DONT UNDERSTAND WHAT WE HAVE!!!!” grooming shit from my parents was gutting me alive, and I was so far gone RE: worthiness/autonomy that I didn’t even consider why I BOTHERED diffusing his petulant accusations over notes on deviantArt again and again as he baited me into shit just to explode over how I didn’t love him and I figured out another way to soothe his engorged and tarry ego without explicitly lying that I loved him too.

He made me regret my silver tongue and way with words as I used it to defend myself again and again, and crushed my love of writing. I would pace the neighborhood for almost an hour several times a week, claiming I was ‘exercising’ but really trying to understand why i felt so trapped, or where the lines between love and hate lay, or why I wanted to cry all the time, as i low key tried to get hit by a car just to force something to change in my life and jolt me out of his smothering, needy nightmare of constant texting and emails and notes. I couldn’t fucking flinch without him knowing about it, and asking me if I was okay. For this reason, I react very poorly to people fretting over me at length, and loudly. I get angry and feel violated, or just pinned to the floor by someone Performing their love on me with no real regard for my health.

This whole time, I was escaping into fandom. It probably saved my life, in one way or another, because I found friends who supported me and made me laugh in the JnD sphere. Especially the friend whose distress caused me to snap and realize This Couldn’t Continue.

This terrible man was the first one outside of my friend group that I showed my writing to, the first adult as well. It was on the dark side even then, but he said it was wonderful and amazing. He teased me for being stuck up in my authors notes on JAM (one of the reasons I’m just getting over ... talking ...) but said it inspired him to start writing as well. He used that writing to imagine hokey sprawling stories of him being a hot rod racer and me being his sexy girlfriend, Very Totally in Love. Why Couldn’t We have Just Met in a Different Lifetime??? not that its a relevant question for my young 16yo friend lol just something dreamers wonder lol lol here why don’t you take this traditional irish engagement ring aka claddagh i bought for you, lie to your parents and say I bought one for everyone in our renfaire group, and turn it toward your heart, to imply that you’re in love, so that I can keep your heart safe for you until you find a boyfriend?

FUCKER YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKER ok I’m done. Fuck.

JAM was a project of mine that spanned a year or two and is intrinsically tangled in those very bad relationships and very bad lessons. I deleted it because I needed to, for purely personal reasons beyond the fact that it was generally bombastic, over-long, tone-deaf and dealt with very serious issues poorly. Due to these experiences, you won’t catch me in a hot minute writing either best-friends-pining or heavy jealousy/possessiveness fic, but everyone else? Go crazy just tag your shit.

so. anyway. isn’t subjectivity actually terrifying? You never know what something can mean to someone else. So just ask, maybe.

Damn, son. Some fics you just can’t repost.

#just another mission #jam #demyrie writes #personal #abuse #stalking #emotional manipulation #i would say p/edophilia but this site doesnt know what that means and this isnt it either so how about abuse of a minor #recovery #mental health #suicidal ideation #triggers #Anonymous

9 notes · View notes

stilesxeveryone · 6 years

Text

Something Fucky - Steter Week

~It’s day 6! I went with time travel! I almost didn’t get this done because I got writers block halfway through and had no idea how to end it! I hope you still like it though.

As always, you can find it on AO3 and my account, and I’m always open to requests for anything!~

Stiles grumbled as he walked alone through the silent forest. It wasn't supposed to be silent. He wasn't supposed to be alone. But, for some magical bullshit reason, they were.

He kicked at a rock, sending it flying away with a satisfying noise.

He and the pack had been fighting a witch. Like, three minutes ago. It shouldn't be silent.

It had just been one witch, and she had only been sacrificing three animals every week, so they finally gave into Scott's plan of trying to talk to her.

Talking turned into fighting surprisingly quickly, but also not at all. He shouldn't be alone.

As soon as the witch laid eyes upon Stiles, she had begun her villain monologue. Turns out she had killed her last coven of witches to gain more power and was now looking to recruit some powerful magic users. Forcefully. She was not against using date rape drug magic.

It sounded a little too much like Deucalion for any of the pack to be comfortable letting her go. So, despite Scott's shouting, they fought the witch.

Why was it so silent?

The witch wasn't lying when she said she had gained the strength of her dead coven. They had fought witches before and they were often easy to deal with (assuming no one was cursed or poisoned), but this witch wasn't backing down at all.

Stiles had stepped up, cast a paralysing spell at the same time the witch cast a spell of her own. The last thing he remembered after that was flashing lights, then he was waking up on the forest floor.

Why was he alone?

He reached a clearing, still kicking a rock in front of him as he grumbled about witches and stupid fucking puppies and did they seriously deal with the witch and abandon him?

He looked up to take in his surroundings and froze.

That was the Hale house.

Not a burnt husk but the actual fucking Hale house from before the fire. It had a roof and everything.

"Oh, God," he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Fucking witch, what did she do?"

Any werewolf in the house was probably already aware that he was standing there. And would possibly be helpful in getting him back to where he was supposed to be.

If they believed him, at least.

So, letting out a very exhausted sigh, he walked up to the front door and knocked.

A few moments later the door swung open to reveal a young man, probably sixteen, with dark hair and some of the grumpiest eyebrows he had ever seen. Second only to Derek. Which meant,

"You're Derek, right?"

The kid glared and asked, "What do you want?"

"I'm, uh," what did he want? "I'm looking for the alpha of the territory, which I presume is Talia?"

The kid's eyebrows shot up and his body tensed. For a moment he looked like he wasn't going to do anything, but then he was nodding and walking back into the house. Stiles figured he was probably supposed to follow.

It was almost surreal, no, it was very surreal to walk through the house. He almost expected to look into a room and see the usual charred nothingness, to look up and see blue sky, but no. The place was perfectly fine, and normal, and pretty fucking nice. Just expensive enough to be elegant and charming, but not too expensive looking to be posh and make him even more uncomfortable.

Young Derek, still broody and grumpy—now because of teen angst rather than guilt and grief—led Stiles up the stairs and to the right. He knocked on a door and, once a 'come in' sounded, opened it. He left before Stiles could walk in, probably off to write angsty poetry or whatever the kids did these days. Or back then.

Shaking his head, Stiles got his thoughts back on track and entered the study looking room.

"Alpha Talia Hale?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as both a show of curiosity and submissiveness.

"Yes, and who are you? How do you know Derek, but he doesn't know you?" The woman, Talia, was beautiful in the same way as Derek. Dark hair that framed her face, gorgeous eyes—even when they flared supernatural colours (or especially when), an intimidating amount of muscle and a raised eyebrow.

He took all of this in within a second and replied quickly, "My name's Stiles. I'll explain how I know Derek after I tell you why I'm here."

It was times like these that made him thankful his legal name was such a mess that he could use his name and not worry about anyone searching him up and finding something. He didn’t know if this was just a back in time thing, or if it was dimensional too, so he had no way of knowing if his dad was in Beacon or not. Possibly even a little him running about, too.

"Yes, why are you here?" Talia asked, raising an eyebrow. It made him wonder how many generations of Hale carried the eyebrow language trait.

"Well, the explanation for that is a bit weird and you're probably not gonna believe me but," he paused to take a steadying breath before continuing, "I come from like twelve years in the future."

Talia stared. Stared a little longer. Used a bit more eyebrow language to convey she thought he was crazy. "You expect me to believe you're from the future?"

"Is there anything I can do to help you believe?" he asked. "I know who your emissary is, if that might help? Maybe he can do some tests, too!"

"You know who my emissary is?" So much eyebrow was happening. "Please, do tell."

"It's Alan Deaton. Or at least it should be, I'm not really sure if any dimensional travelling has happened or if it's just time travel." His hands were flying everywhere.

The eyebrow language paused as Talia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, so you know a well-guarded secret of ours. How nice. Yes, we best go see Deaton to try and prove your theory."

Stiles grinned, success! "Oh, also," he wasn't going to mention it, but thought it might be fun and also didn't have any brain-to-mouth filter, "is Peter listening in on our conversation from behind the door?"

Talia just heaved a sigh in response.

Talia was driving, her husband as right hand in shotgun, Peter as left hand behind him and Stiles as person of interest behind Talia. It wasn't ideal but, really, nothing about the situation was ideal. At least no one had to sit in the middle.

"So, if you've lived in Beacon your whole life, does that mean there's a younger version of you currently running about? What happens if you meet him?" Peter asked, body turned towards Stiles as much as possible without taking off the seatbelt.

"If this isn't some alternate universe where I don't exist then yes. And I don't wanna know," Stiles said, frowning at all the ideas of how terribly that could go.

"How old are you?"

"How old are you?" Stiles countered, raising an eyebrow that rivalled a Hale's.

"That is a really childish way to avoid a question."

"In about seven years I'm gonna ask you the same question and your answer is going to be even more childish than mine, dude." No, Stiles wasn't still frustrated by Peter's vague answer. How could anyone possibly entertain the idea?

Peter looked surprisingly offended by the response, "Are you holding what future me does against me?"

"Yes, yes, I am. It's what future you deserves." Stiles nodded to himself.

Peter looked like he was going to refute that, but paused, squinted at Stiles, then asked, "How exactly did you travel through time?"

"I'm honestly not too sure," he said with a scrunched nose, "I was fighting this witch in the preserve with my pack and we casted spells at the same time. Next thing I know I'm waking up, sans pack, and the Hale- and Derek's fucking sixteen again."

Almost blurting out the fact that the Hale house is a burnt husk in his time? Not a good idea.

"So, what, your spells interacted weirdly, and it sent you back?"

"Yeah, that's the best I've got so far. It's also possible we were too close to the Nemeton and it decided to do something fucky." Stiles shrugged.

They continued on like that for the rest of the car ride, bickering and asking questions, trying to annoy Talia so much that she cracked. Even once Deaton had confirmed Stiles' story and started on preparing a ritual to get Stiles back to his own time, he and Peter were constantly talking.

By the time Deaton was done and had gotten him back to his own time, he was a lot more enlightened on how the Hales used to be, and Peter was a little bit in love.

He wouldn't remember it though.

It was strange. Almost as if he had met the boy before, but the memory was just out of reach, his fingertips just brushing the image.

He recognised the scent. It was different, less ozone and the crackling of magic and power, definitely different emotions splicing through. It was the same though, a tang of medication settled underneath fresh baked cookies and old books and stress.

The boy looked different too. Even though he couldn't remember what he was supposed to look like, he just looked different. Like he wasn't quite there yet.

Then it clicked.

"You must be Stiles."

#steter #steterweek #steter week 2018 #teen wolf #fic #my fic #stiles stilinski #peter hale #talia hale #alan deaton #derek hale #time travel

85 notes · View notes