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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

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Romanced! Male!Companions react to Sole/Lone/Six being unable to walk the morning after.

I’ve got M!Companions from FO4, FO3, and FONV here, but let me know if you guys want me to include anyone else at all!

Might be just a little NSFW?

;)

Fallout 4 --

Danse:

Danse would feel absolutely horrible. After the initial flush on his cheeks at the mention of sex, his expression would turn to one of devastation. There honestly wouldn't be any sense of satisfaction whatsoever at having hurt you, and he would internally berate himself for not being as attentive to you, and as aware of your reactions as he should've been. That day he would tell you to take it easy and he would be at your constant beck and call in an attempt to make it up to you. He would spend all day beside you, working on cleaning and repairing your weapons and armor, engaging in idle conversation, and maybe listening to the radio. The next time you two are intimate he will be exceedingly gentle with you, and will take extra care to ensure you are more prepared for him before really getting into it.

Deacon:

He would feel really bad to have hurt you enough to impact you like this, but also he would feel just a small twinge of satisfaction at having been able to do so. He'll do his best to take care of you after you tell him about it though, spending the whole day with you in bed, just chatting away, playing little games with you, like “two truths, one lie” or 20 questions and the like. When the time does come for you two to be intimate again, he'll have you take the lead a few times in a row to get an idea of your preferred pacing so he can replicate it better and hopefully not hurt you in the future. But, and he's not particularly proud of this, he will ask your permission to tell some of the others back at HQ what had happened. (He just really just wants to see the look on Carrington’s face, and prove a certain something to Glory about his anatomy. But, of course, he wouldn’t use your name if you didn't want him to. Discretion is this man’s forte, after all).

Hancock:

Is it still considered aftercare if it happens the day after you've had sex? Well, whatever it’s called, Hancock would do all that he can to make up for how he had made you feel. He should know better after all by now, he would feel horrible and try to think back to the way you had reacted to some of his movements in an effort to pinpoint what exactly had hurt you so he could make sure to never do it again. If you wanted chems to numb the pain, he'll surely offer them, and besides that, he'll spend the whole day just looking after you. Holding you close, telling you jokes and stories, making you food, maybe giving you a message, just anything to make you feel better. And when you two are intimate again, he'll be sure to make it up to you. Big time.

MacCready:

Initially, he might feel a distinct sense of pride at having rendered you immobile with his vicious love, but once his brain wraps around the fact that you're actually in pain, he'll feel pretty bad. Maybe not as bad as he should, which he tries to hide, but it's pretty obvious given his little grin he has plastered on his face all day. But he’ll be sure to take good care of you, grabbing snacks and refreshments before curling up next to you with a couple of comic books, really just taking full advantage of the day off. From now on, when the two of you do have sex, he will try to prevent this from happening again by having you be in control for the most part, at least until he learns your body and its limits a bit better. He still might not completely ease up, but he’ll at least make it seem like he’s not as proud of what he’d done as he actually happens to be. And just a heads up, he may just bring up the fact that he was the one who “loved you so hard that you couldn’t walk” at every given opportunity, so just be aware of that.

Nick:

The poor old detective would feel dreadful, this was part of the reason he'd been hesitant to engage in physical acts of intimacy with you in the first place. Even if you assured him it was nothing more than some temporary soreness, he'd have trouble rationalizing being with you intimately for a little while. He would also take an easy day himself so he could keep an eye on you and get you whatever you might need. When you did manage to convince him that you would be okay to have sex again, he would be overly tender and gentle, just to make sure that you know how much your well-being means to him, and to assure you that he would never repeat the actions that had ended up hurting you ever again. As far as he was concerned, he wanted you to wake up feeling good after being with him, to feel satisfied and giddy and maybe just a little tired, but certainly not in pain.

Preston:

Oh lordy, good luck trying to get him to touch you again after he finds out that he hurt you. Initially, his brain would send a little spark of pride to the forefront of his mind when you first told him, but his conscious self would instantly shut it down, disgusted by the fact that it was present at all. He would insist you take the whole day off and would try to keep up on his work while also looking after you in every way possible. You'll really have to work to get him to be with you intimately again anytime soon, as he'll be quite worried about you, and once you do manage to convince him, he'll be extraordinarily gentle and slow. He's very sweet, but you'll have to be patient with him as he pauses with every heavy breath you release, or gasp you take, or moan you utter. Even good noises are scary for him, but don't worry, he'll get back to his usual pace eventually, and now be extra aware of your every reaction to him; which, as it turns out, can be quite handy.

X6-88:

The courser will be conflicted. On the one hand, you were aware that X6’s lovemaking is rough, you've known that from the start, so the two of you wouldn’t be unused to scenarios like this occurring. However, for it to have escalated to physically impairing you enough to prevent you from walking… that made him feel an ache of regret in his chest. Luckily, X6 doesn't miss a thing, and likely will recall which aspects of the night had led to this specific outcome, and he would try to eliminate those factors from future interactions. As for now, he will ensure that you are safe, and as comfortable as possible; he will guard you as you take the day to rest, and will fetch you anything that you require. Normally, when you were hurt, he would recommend paying a visit to the Institute medical facility, but in this case… he would rather try and help you himself if it comes to it. You’re not entirely sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed, or just possessive over certain areas of your body now, but you’d say his crimson cheeks were a bit of a giveaway.

Fallout 3 --

Butch:

On the outside, he would be the prime example of the sympathetic boyfriend. He would apologize and spend the day cuddling with you, playing with your hair, eating snack cakes and drinking nuka cola. On the inside, however, he would feel a certain sense of fulfillment, and would have to consciously hold back the wicked grin that threatened to spill onto his lips at the thought of his lovemaking being wild enough to make it so that you couldn’t walk. He certainly wouldn’t actively try to do it again, but he also wouldn’t necessarily try to prevent it from happening, so just be prepared for anything. But whether or not he’s successful in making you sore again, he’ll fully dedicate himself to caring for you afterwards, ensuring that you’re comfortable and content in his arms at the end of each night.

Charon:

The ghoul can’t say he’s surprised, he did warn you that this might happen, after all. His previous sexual experiences have all been initiated by past employers, so most of them have ranged from pretty negative ordeals to downright violent encounters, and though he'll try to leave that in the past, it's tough for him to let go of it completely since it’s really all he knows. That being said, he will still feel bad about hurting you, and will really try to take more care the next time the two of you are intimate. You'll have to work together on communication and focus more on foreplay in the future, but Charon aims to please, and would never purposefully try to hurt you (unless, of course, if you told him you were into it ;).

Jericho:

He’ll honestly just grin nice and big when you tell him. Sorry. If you wanted tenderness and sympathy, you should probably look into being with someone else. Jericho would consider this to be an achievement on his part, and assure you that this was a sign that the two of you had really done it right. He might complain a bit about having to stay in for the day, but that doesn't mean he won't still take care of you, in his own sort of way. He'll offer you a drink (or a few), or a cigarette (or a whole pack), and would probably just end up falling back into bed next to you and taking a nice, long nap at your side. He wouldn't really promise to change anything the next time the two of you have sex, but he might try to reassure you that it will get easier with more "practice."

Fallout New Vegas --

Arcade:

Oh, he would definitely laugh, because it's a joke. Obviously you're joking with him… right? No!? But-- how? He would be confused by this, and too busy thinking through what he possibly could have done to make you physically unable to walk, to actually address the issue. Once he snaps out of it, he'll ask if you're okay and try to keep his snarky and sarcastic quips to a minimum for the day. As much as Arcade loves giving you a hard time in general, this time he'd be too embarrassed to bring it up. In the event that you do mention it, you'd best be prepared for the pink hue that would adorn, not just his cheeks, nor even his face, but his entire body. When the two of you do have sex again, Arcade will be happy to let you take the lead so you can better control the pacing and keep from hurting yourself at all, (which really is just a win-win scenario, considering the fact that he really prefers you being in control anyway.)

Boone:

His brows would furrow at the news, barely noticeable through his sunglasses, but he would simply set down his rifle and bag and settle back into bed with you. The ex-soldier would curl his arms around you and stay beside you for the remainder of the day, rubbing his arms along your body comfortingly. He’s not big on small talk, but Boone would love to just sit and listen to you ramble all day long. When the evening comes, he’ll be sure to get up and make you both dinner before encouraging you to go to sleep early. Despite his stoic exterior, he's actually quite the tender caretaker. The next time you two are intimate together, he'll consciously focus on being more gentle and controlled with his movements, and certainly won't be shy in making sure you're properly "prepared" for him when he does get a little more rough.

Raul:

Aw, the poor old ghoul would feel horrible about hurting you, the ridge above his eyes would crinkle upwards as he flashed you a sympathetic smile. He'd be a little embarrassed about it as well, feeling like it was rude of him to let his self-control slip enough to have ended up hurting you. He'd take care of you for the day, taking the opportunity to tidy up your living space as he chats with you about anything and everything, telling you stories of his life from before the bombs dropped, teaching you some words in Spanish, and telling cheesy jokes to make you laugh. He would give you a bit of time to recover before agreeing to sleeping with you again, and this time he would suggest either you taking the lead, or using a safe word in case his control started slipping again.

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 3 years

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Could we please have companions eating sole's food and shes an amazing chef? Like she can take 3 things and make a tasty meal outta anything? Thankies!

Here you go! 🥰💙💛 I had a lot of fun with this one 😉😂

Cait - Is not expecting much when she first forks a bit of it, but decides she will give it a chance since she is hungry and she's not one to be horribly picky about what she eats. As soon as the stuff meets her tastebuds, her eyes go wide and she starts eating the stuff as if it will disappear before her very eyes. She is asking for seconds before she even finishes her plate.

Piper - Is very, very skeptical at first. After all, she saw what F!Sole put in there and it did not look like a good mix of ingredients. But to spare her Blue's feelings, she carefully picks up a tiny bit of it and takes a bite, aiming to suffer through it if she has to. However, to her immense shock, the stuff is actually one of the best things she has ever tasted. She gets a huge grin on her face as she tarts shoveling the stuff in. With her mouth as full as it can be while still allowing for a bit of conversation, Piper starts complimenting F!Sole and asking for the specific instructions on how to make it so she can completely wow the ever-unimpressed Nat.

Curie - Is confident that F!Sole can cook. After all, F!Sole seems confident in herself and her abilities to cook, so Curie hopes for the best. When she bites into it, her eyes light up with life renewed and she looks at F!Sole as if she is some sort of heavenly angel before declaring that her current plate of food is the best food that she has ever had since coming into her synth body. Which naturally does wonders for F!Sole's ego. The entire time after that, Curie is showering her with compliments and making happy humming noises and just enjoying the food. She then asks if F!Sole could cook that exact dish every night.

MacCready - When he sees how she's making the weird concoction, he proclaims how it sort of reminds him of the way Lucy used to cook things. Of course, Lucy was not quite that good at cooking, but she certainly mixed ingredients together in strange, unforeseen ways not unlike F!Sole. Therefore, when the food is served to him, he turns around to make sure there's a clear path to a place for him to escape and barf if needed. But when he tastes it, he completely forgets all escape plans in favor of practically diving into the food before him. When the plate is completely empty, he asks her if she could cook more of that very soon. Like maybe at the next mealtime.

Deacon - Tries not to look too hard at the ingredients as she's making it, but knows what things that she's throwing together. When he is handed his plate, he tries to steady himself and give her an actual chance. Maybe she's good at cooking? This theory is confirmed quickly. As soon as he tastes it, he's eating it like crazy until he's finished the last bite and then he's licking his fingers for any remaining taste. He wastes no time in asking her if she could cook that for the gang back at HQ. After all, he wants to see Doctor Carrington's face when F!Sole proves herself to be more than just an agent. If they're going to get him to finally see her like Deacon does, F!Sole's cooking is most certainly the best way to go.

Codsworth - Cannot actually eat it. But he does comment on how incredible it looks and how it must be absolutely amazing since everyone is eating it at a lightning pace. He waste no time in attempting to compare it to pre-war cuisine and mentioning how it looks like different dishes.

Hancock - Does not know what to think when he sees her making it. It does not look like a good mix, and he does not really want to eat it but at the same time, he knows she is good at pretty much everything she does, so he just goes with it. He trusts her. When she finally serves it to him, he takes a bite quickly, curious what it will taste like. When it meets his mouth, he almost feels like there are some kind of fireworks going off and a choir singing nearby. After a moment, he looks at her and asks her, completely dead-serious, if she had put some kind of souped-up chems inside when he wasn't looking.

Danse - Is more than a little afraid at first, and he is not entirely sure he wants to eat it. But because she looks so hopeful about him trying it, he decides that he can miserably cram the stuff down his throat and try to look at least a little happy about it. But when he actually tastes it, his eyes get big and he looks at F!Sole in shock. He only has one thing to say before he digs in--- "Outstanding."

Preston - Can't help but wonder if the stuff is going to be toxic when he eats it, but he tries to stay positive even if the stuff kind of looks like something puked on his plate. He sticks his spoon and sort of fiddles with it a little before taking a tentative small bite. When he tries it, his eyes light up and he raises his eyebrows as he looks at her, questioning playfully if she has any more tricks up her sleeve that he should know about. He happily finishes the rest of it and starts making suggestions that she should teach that recipe to the Minutemen so that they could make the best and the fullest use of available food resources.

Valentine - Cannot eat it, but he can definitely smell it. It activates a pre-war memory of the original Nick Valentine and he gets intense nostalgia as he asks F!Sole if she thinks it smells like whatever food he is thinking of. When she agrees, they both begin to reminisce about the old times and the food of days gone by.

X6-88 - Does not really want to eat any of it at first, insisting that he has rations and that it is really not necessary to eat something with the combination of ingredients that she just mixed. He finally concedes, though, when F!Sole looks so disheartened by his lack of desire to even try it. When he actually gives it a chance, he finds the food to be quite satisfactory and expresses that to F!Sole. This is probably one of the highest compliments that can be received from X6-88. Well, that and how he surreptitiously withdraws a ration container from his pocket and rakes some of the leftover food into it.

Dogmeat - If he manages to get a bite of it (which he usually does since Piper can't resist feeding him human food) he is wagging like crazy and licking all over the surface or the hand that had the food on it. Usually he ends up ratting out whoever gave him the food because he won't leave them alone until they give him another bite.

Strong - Does not expect anything good or anything bad, and is aiming on proceeding with it just like he would with any meal. But when he gets a hulking mouthful of it, he actually pauses and looks down at it before looking at F!Sole for a moment. After that one short pause, he wastes no time in standing up and grabbing the pot or pan with the rest of the dish and pouring it all onto his plate before pigging out.

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heliads · 3 years

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The Value of a Friend

Peter Parker is fairly surprised when a classmate, Y/N L/N, is able to figure out his secret identity as Spider-Man. He’ll come to rely on her over the next few months, although he may make a surprise discovery about his feelings for her on the school trip to Europe.

masterlist

Peter Parker’s legs swing absentmindedly over the edge of the roof. There’s nothing much going on right now- brick, stucco, and metal as far as the eye can see. The lights of the city that never sleeps reflect off of the windows; a thousand sights and sounds and happenings littered down the boulevards. Despite all the comings and goings, the rush of people across the streets, nothing major has happened all night. Peter knows he technically shouldn’t be hoping for crime, but he does want at least one thing to happen to justify him staying up this late on patrol duty.

Peter’s got the usual mask pulled down over his face, disguising the heavy circles under his eyes. He may have superhuman strength and durability, but his powers don’t appear to help him run on less sleep. However, Peter’s used to staying up long nights patrolling. This particular moonlit outing isn’t unusual.

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye, and Peter shifts to glance over at the orderly streets behind him. There- a girl walking down a sidewalk, her pace brisk and hurried to steer her quickly through an alleyway. With a rush, Peter realizes that he recognizes the girl. Her name is Y/N L/N, she’s in some of his classes. He wouldn’t exactly consider her a best friend, maybe more of an acquaintance. This isn’t due to any specific animosity, Peter just never really got the chance to talk to her. Sometimes, however, he wishes he had.

Y/N isn’t just smart like the other students in his class, she’s clever. Peter has seen the way her eyes light up when she figures something out, the same light that winks out from underneath her eyelashes when she laughs over a bad joke with her friends. Peter shakes himself for a second. Why is he thinking so much about her eyes? He shouldn’t have the way she smiles memorized at all, ready to call up at a moment’s notice.

Besides, Peter realizes with a dull chill, Y/N’s eyes are different from Peter’s on one grand scale. Y/N has no superpowered senses, and so she cannot tell that there are two or three men shadowing her as she wends through the streets. Peter curses softly, realizing that the men are definitely following her. Without a second thought, he leaps down from the building, swinging towards them on ropes of spider silk.

Peter’s goal was to take them out before they got close enough to reach Y/N. However, they were too far away and it doesn’t look like a secret rescue will be happening tonight. They’ve already cornered her in a narrow street, hands pulling guns out of coat pockets. Peter acts as quickly as he can- spiderweb launched at one, dragging him back against the wall of the street. The other Peter takes on directly, aiming a blow at the man’s head that knocks him backward before Peter hits him again. Peter would usually tie the thugs up and leave them for some other soul to deal with, but the men are already running away without a second’s hesitation and he doesn’t much feel like trying to track them down.

There’s a soft sound behind him, like a gasp of breath, and Peter turns around to see Y/N standing there, looking shaken but unhurt. Peter panics for a moment before remembering that his mask is still snugly in place. She would have no way of knowing him. Peter takes a hesitant step closer, reaching out his hands to show that he means no harm. “I’m, uh, Spider-Man. Are you alright?”

Y/N shakes her head hastily. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for saving me from those guys.” Peter waves a hand. “No problem. All in the job description, you know?” Y/N laughs, but the sound dies slowly from her lips as she stares at him. Her head cocks slightly to the side, as if she’s considering something. She raises a hand slowly to point at him like she’s unsure of a truth but determined to say it nonetheless.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Peter stiffens, turning hurriedly to make sure that nobody could have heard her. Dimly, he realizes that he should have denied this first instead of acting like this was something to be hidden. “Uh, no. I don’t know who that is.” The lie sounds fake even to his own lips. A small smile is growing over Y/N’s lips, as if she’s incredulous. “You are. Peter Parker from chem class is Spider-Man.”

Peter figures that the game is up, so he tugs his mask from his head. Y/N’s eyes dart to his face, washing over every detail as if in awe. “It’s true. You’re actually Spider-Man?” Peter nods thickly. “How did you know it was me?” A slight blush forms in Y/N’s cheeks. “I, uh, you looked familiar.” Peter raises an eyebrow. “I was wearing a mask.” Y/N blushes harder. “You have the same voice. Is that better? You sound the exact same.”

Peter lets out a huff of breath at that. He can’t deny it- he’s messed around with voice settings on the suit before but never bothered to permanently give himself a different-sounding voice as Spider-Man. Now he’s paying the price for it. “Maybe.” A slight smile tugs at the corners of Y/N’s lips. “You were ready to be Spider-Man but you didn’t even have an excuse prepared to explain yourself?” Peter feels defensive. “Well, most people don’t actually figure it out. You’re the first, actually. Well, I had to tell Ned but only because he saw me crawling on the ceiling. I didn’t realize he was there, though. I don’t usually crawl on ceilings.”

Peter realizes he’s rambling and does his best to stop talking. Y/N’s smiling at him again, and he feels surprisingly fine about it. “I would hope not. Crawling on ceilings is kind of hard to explain away.” Peter scratches the back of his head, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, that’s kind of why I had to tell him.” Y/N flashes him a grin. “Well, I appreciate the rescue, Peter-Not-Spider-Man. I’ll see you in class?” Suddenly, Peter doesn’t want to leave. “I can walk you home if you like? I hear it’s kind of dangerous out here.” Y/N nods her approval. “Sure thing. Just make sure you put your mask back on first.”

Peter becomes friends with Y/N after that. There’s almost no way not to- she knows the biggest secret of his life, how could they not be friends? Ned is thrilled to find another ‘Friend of Spider-Man’, as he dubs Y/N, and the three of them get along surprisingly well. MJ, too, is glad to see Y/N around, although MJ has yet to discover Peter’s secret. At the rate he’s going, though, Peter has a shifting feeling that she’ll find out soon enough.

It’s after one of his late night patrol rounds that Peter finds himself knocking on Y/N’s window. He’s slumped against the window sill, hand pressed to his side. There was a mass robbery on the East Side, something Peter stupidly thought he could handle without a second thought. He stopped the robbery, that was true, but they’d managed to fire off several shots with some newfangled weaponry that even Tony would have to take a second look at. The result is this: a bloody cut on his side that doesn’t look like it will be going away any time soon.

After a couple of seconds, Y/N throws open her window. She leans out, eyes widening when she sees Peter still dressed in his Spider-Man suit. “What’s going on?” She hisses, then her gaze finds the bloody slit on his side. “What is that?” She glances behind her, as if making sure everyone is asleep, then gestures hurriedly for him to climb through the window after her. “Quick, come in.” Once Peter’s standing in her room, Y/N closes the window, then leans against it, staring at the blood on his hands and the nervous look in his eyes.

“What happened?” Peter grimaces. “Robbery. Bit off a little more than I can chew. Do you have a first aid kit? I think I need to get this bandaged up but if I go home now Aunt May will freak out. I can’t stress her anymore, and I don’t think Ned knows how to stop bleeding.” Y/N shakes her head. “Gotcha. Give me a second, I can grab some supplies.” Y/N heads out of her room, reappearing in a minute or so with a box of bandages and medical supplies held triumphantly in front of her.

She directs Peter to sit on a chair by her desk, and he does so, careful not to get any blood on, well, anything. Y/N takes a seat opposite him, bandages and an antibiotic for disinfecting the wound in her hands. Her brow furrows as she begins to treat the wound, and Peter can’t help but let his gaze linger across the determined look in her eyes, the slight curve of her lips as she focuses on the cut on his side.

After a while she straightens up, and Peter looks away hurriedly, feeling a slight blush heat up his cheeks. “I think that should hold you for a while. You said you had superhuman strength and stuff like that, right? You’ll probably be able to sleep it off.” Peter climbs back through the window, but just before he swings away he turns back, leaning his head through the opening to Y/N’s room. “Thanks a lot, Y/N. I mean it. I can’t think of anyone else I could turn to.” Y/N smiles at him, a smile that seems to light up the whole room. “No problem, Peter. If you’ve got my back, I’ve got yours.”

Peter is certainly grateful for his friendship with Y/N over the next couple of months. He ends up making a couple more stops by her room for help patching up various injuries, and when he has to deal with the aftermath of Tony’s death, she’s always there with some way to hear him out and cheer him up. Honestly, he doesn’t know what he would do without her.

When Peter gets word of the school trip to Europe, he thinks it’s the best thing that could happen to him in a while. Time to himself, with friends, touring interesting places. He’s hoping that a change in scene will finally let him breathe for a second, let him put aside the mask and suit and be Peter Parker once more. However, the appearance of the suit in his suitcase and one Nick Fury convinces him that this trip won’t just be a vacation, however much he wants it. Hopefully, he’ll have time to tell MJ how he feels in between the attacks of the elementals.

MJ. What is Peter supposed to do about MJ? He knows he has feelings for her, that much is obvious. He had a plan, carefully laid out steps that would culminate in Peter telling MJ he loves her and presenting her with a black dahlia necklace. However, as the fights with the elementals grow and grow, he has a feeling that won’t entirely work out. What is he supposed to do now?

He’s confessed his plan to Ned, just to hear another point of view. He told Y/N actually, at a different point in time. She’d seen the necklace and was wondering if he had a sudden taste in jewelry. It was strange, though, the second Peter had told her how he felt about MJ Y/N had gotten this sudden look, like she was shuttering the light in her eyes closed against the world. The sight of her, the smile slipping from her lips, made Peter feel like he’d done something terribly wrong. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Y/N seemed fine after that, but he did notice that she stopped talking about the dahlia necklace or anything in the plan at all.

Things with the elementals end up going from bad to worse. Peter finds out that the man he thought was his friend, Quentin Beck, was actually the one behind the elementals all along. In fact, the elementals were nothing more than elaborate holograms, and Peter had gone and given Beck control over E.D.I.T.H. in the form of Tony’s glasses. Mr. Stark’s last gift to him, and Peter had tossed it away in a moment of misplaced trust.

It’s not like Peter is alone, though. MJ found out about Peter’s secret identity as Spider-Man, and now she, Y/N, and Ned are figuring out how to take down Mysterio alongside Peter. Peter feels a sudden rush of gratitude as he looks back at his friends. With people like them, people that matter that much to him, Peter feels like he could take on the world. And with Mysterio’s control over E.D.I.T.H., he just may have to.

The battle ends up going surprisingly well. Peter manages to turn the tide on Mysterio, refusing to fall for any of the man’s schemes and tricks. In the end, he is able to wrest control of E.D.I.T.H. away from Mysterio, thus enabling him to remove all of the drones and end the man’s plans once and for all. Now that the fight is over, though, Peter almost doesn’t know what to do.

He finds himself stumbling down Tower Bridge, limping from all of the various injuries he’s managed to obtain during the fight. The first thought in his head is that he should look for Y/N, for the one girl he always turns to whenever he needs help. Then MJ runs out from among the cars, and Peter focuses instead on her. She dashes over to him, throwing her arms around him and telling him that yes, everyone is okay and yes, he saved them all.

Distantly, Peter can see the figures of Ned and Y/N approaching, but it’s alright. They’re his friends, he doesn’t have to worry about pulling his mask back on. Peter pulls away, fishing around in his pocket for the black dahlia necklace. He feels crushed to see that it’s in pieces, but MJ says something about how she likes it better broken. It’s funny, though- Y/N has always been able to fix things. To fix him.

Peter pushes Y/N out of his mind. He’s not thinking about his friend, he’s thinking about MJ. MJ, the girl he loves, the girl who is right in front of him. The girl who’s just leaned forward and kissed him. Peter lets himself kiss her back, lets himself lean into her and block out the rest of the world. There’s the screech of traffic echoing around him from the parts of the city that haven’t yet shut down, and that is what drags Peter back to reality.

They break apart after a few seconds. MJ starts to step away, saying something about how she should probably get going before too many people see familiar Midtown students with Spider-Man. Peter nods, noting that Ned and Y/N have changed direction upon seeing MJ head their way once more. There’s a strange expression on Y/N’s face, a strange emptiness that hadn’t been there before. Peter wants to go run after her, to say something to make that quiet sorrow go away, but his feet feel leaden in place and all he can do is watch as she walks away.

Peter gets back to his hotel room late that night. Ned files in after him, chuckling softly about how his best friend managed to save the day and get with MJ in one go. However, Ned’s face falls as he says this. “Did you really have to kiss her in front of Y/N, though?” Peter frowns over at his friend. “What do you mean?” Ned spreads his hands. “Well, you know, because Y/N likes you. I thought it would be kind of mean to kiss MJ when she was right there.”

Peter feels like the ground is falling away underneath his feet. “Y/N likes me?” Ned nods. “Didn’t you know? She’s had a crush on you for a while now. Sorry, Peter, I thought you knew. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” Peter waves away his friend’s apology, already heading to the door. Ned’s voice stops him. “You won’t be able to find her. She was scheduled to take an earlier trip home. Remember? It was planned out earlier in the month. She had to make it home early for some family reason, she talked about it on the flight.” Peter remembers this now, and his stomach turns at the thought of Y/N on that plane, all alone and stuck with the picture of him and MJ kissing.

Ned turns away to pack his suitcase, but Peter can’t think about anything productive at all. He’s beginning to realize that he’s made a very big mistake, something he can only hope to undo. There was a reason he hadn’t felt anything when he kissed MJ, when it had been awkward and emotionless. It wasn’t just because they were tired teenagers and didn’t know what to do, it was because he didn’t love her at all. No, the girl Peter loved is on a plane right now, and she thinks that Peter doesn’t care about her when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

What is he supposed to do? Y/N will hate him for this. Somehow, that one thought is enough to motivate him to reach towards his suitcase, to start packing again. He has to make it back, has to find his way home to tell Y/N how he really feels. He can only hope that Y/N will let him stick around long enough to say it.

Y/N doesn’t come to her window for a long time after Peter knocks. He’s almost beginning to think that it’s a lost cause and she’ll never want to speak to him again when the sash gently opens and Y/N leans out. She’s usually used to seeing Peter crouched on her windowsill, but for some reason she startles at seeing him like it’s his first time visiting.

Peter speaks softly, his voice barely louder than the wind. “I think I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” Y/N holds up a hand. “I don’t need any explanations. You can do whatever you want, you didn’t have to come by.” Peter shakes his head. “Yes, I did. I know you had feelings for me once. I was kind of hoping that you hadn’t changed your mind about me.”

Peter ends up leaving Y/N’s room much later. He has a grin that he can’t seem to shake, and a bounce in his step that doesn’t fade for hours. He might just have managed to save himself, to convince the girl he loves that she should take a chance and stay with him. Besides, he’s kissed her enough to say a thousand words.

peter parker/marvel tag list: @namoreno, @mycosmicparadise

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #spiderman #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #spiderman oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot

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byologee · 3 years

Text

an actually practical guide to being premed and getting into med school by someone who did it successfully

Majors and Classes:

Personally I feel you should choose a major that will be complementary to your premed studies-- something STEM or social science based that overlaps with your premed classes and will allow you to take upper level science classes that relate to physiology, disease and illness, pharmacology, etc. HOWEVER do not let this deter you from majoring in a non-bio STEM area like biochem or from pursuing a different science or liberal arts major.

That being said, consider double majoring in Public Health because it is very relevant to premed and going into medicine.

Make sure you take the correct order of bio and chem classes. This is important so that you take classes at the appropriate time when you have the appropriate skill level and so that you do not have any gaps in your premed education or major classes.

Be aware of what upper level bio and chem classes require prereqs that are not a part of your major requirements or premed requirements; for example some upper level bio classes require microbio which is not a premed requirement at all schools NOR always a major requirement. Plan your underclassmen years accordingly to allow you to fit in certain prereqs for upper level classes.

If you plan on taking lower level lab intensive courses, take them as an underclassman-- they will prepare you with basic lab skills you can apply to upper level classes and to irl lab work, plus most of your classmates will be underclassmen. You do not want to take these lower level lab intensive courses as an upperclassman. You will be bored and probably annoyed.

Take an intro level public health class as an underclassmen to see if you are interested in public health; this will also be relevant to your med school apps.

Gen chem 1 and orgo 1 are weedout classes. Many people will switch from premed and/or bio to public health or prePA after taking gen chem 1 and orgo 1. This is normal; don’t be judgemental. If you’re the one switching to public health or prePA, don’t feel bad or ashamed.

Do not take orgo 1 or 2 with super hard progressors. It’s just not worth it. Many people say that harder orgo progressors prepare you better for the MCAT, but this is false as the MCAT does not have a lot of orgo on it. Many people will fail out of orgo even without super hard professors. Set yourself up for success by taking orgo profs with good reputations, not profs with reputations for failing everyone, being purposefully difficult, or just nasty.

If you take a (relatively) “easy” professor for orgo 1, under no circumstances should you take a hard prof for orgo 2. You will suffer.

The best way to study orgo 1 and 2 is to memorize all the reactions. Copy reactions until you have them memorized. Then you can simply apply what you’ve memorized to synthesis reactions. This works for NMR too, just memorize what NMR specs look like and apply.

Always go to TA office hours for gen chem 1, 2 lab and orgo 1, 2 lab. The lab reports are very difficult and the TAs can help you more than professors can. Professors will be mostly absent for labs. TAs will know what’s up.

You do not need to take biochem 2 for the MCAT, biochem 1 will suffice as it generally covers amino acids and proteins and not respiration and metabolism. Most of the biochem on the MCAT is about amino acids and proteins; all metabolism can be self-studied. (This is my opinion to save you time, if your advisors tell you otherwise LISTEN TO THEM and not me).

If you take AP psychology you do not need to take intro psych.

You need to take a sociology course for the MCAT and premed reqs. You should take The Sociology of Deviance if offered at your college as this is more relevant to the MCAT than intro socy.

If you have to take a professional writing class for Gen Eds, try to take a science writing or health professions writing course as these will be relevant to you.

Take stats even if you don’t have to as it is very relevant for understanding papers.

If you switch to another pre-health path like prePA or prepharm you will generally have to take different prereqs. Clear this with your advisors and come up with a plan.

Med schools like to see a diversity in courses and not just science courses, so you need to take at least 8 humanities credit hours. Diversify your college education and take interesting and relevant humanities courses; this will also help with CARS on the MCAT.

Research

Many medical schools want you to have research experience. You can do clinical research or bench research.

You should start research early, either 2nd semester freshman year or summer before sophomore year.

The best advice is to research professors and PIs in the BSCI and public health departments and email ones you are interested in about working in their lab. You can do this before 2nd semester freshman year or during that semester. Email example: Hi Dr. X, I am an undergraduate freshman at UMD and am looking for research opportunities in X field. I discovered your lab and read your paper, “X,” and am very interested in this subject! Elaborate on what interested you I was wondering if there are any open positions in your lab for an undergraduate researcher. I have taken X, X, X, courses. I would be interested in working in your lab for 2 years. Please let me know if you have any openings! Best, X

PIs generally look for undergrads to commit to 2 years of research, but you can quit earlier if you feel like it. This is also why you should do research earlier-- that way you are not cramming it in during your upperclassman years.

The goal is to get some abstracts, posters, presentations, and maybe a pub out of it, but these things aren’t absolutely necessary.

Clinical Experience

Med schools like to see 10 months of continuous clinical experience, which translates to about 200 hours. However, this number is too low and to be really competitive for med school apps you should aim for 1000 hours if not more.

The best way to gain clinical experience is to work part time as a scribe, CNA, MA, or tech. You can take CNA and MA courses the summer before sophomore or junior year and apply to positions online. CNA/MA gives you a lot of experience working with patients. Scribing gives you a lot of experience working with doctors and seeing what they do. It’s best to start clinical experience sophomore year or junior year so you can gain enough hours prior to applying.

You should also have clinical volunteering hours which you can get by volunteering at hospitals such as Children’s or Shady Grove or any other local hospital. Other clinics also accept volunteers, you just have to look around. Check your health professions advising office (hereon abbreviated as HPAO) for their recommendations and job listings if available.

You can also shadow doctors. Your HPAO may have a continuously updating list of physicians in your area who are available to shadow. You can also genuinely just email local providers. Note that you will need to shadow a DO if applying DO.

Check your HPAO listserv for job openings and clinical volunteering opportunities.

You can find jobs by googling “CNA job near me” or “scribe job near me” and browsing postings on Indeed and other job sites, or alternatively postings on hospital sites.

Community Service

Med schools like to see 10-12 months of continuous community service, or around 200 hours. This is too low, and you should aim for around 600 to be a competitive applicant.

Join school listservs and look for volunteer postings. Go to your school’s First Look Fair or college organization fair (usually held at the beginning of each semester) and sign up for emails from clubs that do volunteering or other various organizations. There are many organizations on campus that do volunteering and service.

Ideally you want to work with marginalized communities off campus. This sounds shitty but you want to work with communities who need it. You should also aim for a sustained service opportunity, not a once a month thing but a weekly, continuous experience. Volunteering through clubs and societies like the women’s premed organization are not valid experiences.

Google local homeless shelters, women’s shelters, STD testing clinics, and food banks-- these are all really good places to volunteer at. You can also volunteer at crisis hotlines.

You can also utilize clinical experience for community service, so volunteering at a hospital, clinic, urgent care, etc. But you also need non-clinical community service, so make sure to prioritize both.

Consistency is key. Doing an experience for a longer period of time (ex. 4 hours every week for 10 months- year) is very valuable. Even doing an hour of volunteering at the same place every week for two years is great. Building relationships, gaining experience, understanding consistency-- med schools value this. Long term experience is very important.

Extracurriculars

You should also be involved in extraneous, non-community service based organizations and extracurriculars. It’s ok if these organizations include some aspect of community service. This can also include paid-positions that are not clinical.

Examples include campus ministries, sports, dance, art clubs, music/choir, social, restorative, and environmental justice organizations, interest groups, tutoring, co-ed frats, etc.

Joining societies, like the American Women’s Medical Association or your college’s namesake Pre-Med Society is a great way to do extracurriculars, build your resume, and get leadership experience. You can also join major-specific societies.

Check with your HPAO for a list of pre-health societies you can join. Your college will also have a website or list of clubs and orgs you can investigate.

Med schools like to see that you are well-rounded, so having a variety of experiences is important.

Advising

It is extremely important that you build a relationship with your advisors. It is very important that you outline all the classes you want to take with them and when AND that you meet with them every semester. Discuss your plans with them, ask questions, ask for suggestions and tips. If you make any major or minor changes you need to speak with them too. They are a resource; use them.

You will also need to build a relationship with your pre-med advisors at your HPAO. You may need to do an intro workshop to be able to meet with an advisor at your HPAO.

Meet with an HPAO advisor every semester to outline your courseload, volunteering, clinical work, extracurriculars, and application plan. Your HPAO advisor will help you craft a narrative for med school apps and can help advise you with regards to coursework and what opportunities to pursue. They can help you decide when to take the MCAT, when to apply, devise a school list, etc. so it’s best to start meeting with them early. The better your relationship with your HPAO advisor, the stronger the recommendation letter you’ll get from them.

If your grades drop you NEED to speak with an HPAO advisor. You should be checking in with them every semester to go over your grades and course history and make sure you are on the right track to apply. This is really really crucial.

If your HPAO offers workshops for applying to med school, crafting a school list, financing med school, writing a personal statement, etc. then GO TO THEM. Utilize the resources that are available to you.

Make sure you are on your HPAO listserv.

If your HPAO offers peer to peer advising consider using this resource to speak with current college students who are going through the application process.

2 Areas Med Schools Look At: Leadership + Diversity and Inclusion

These are two hot topics med schools care about. Here is how to address them.

Leadership: there are numerous ways to gain leadership experience; getting elected to a leadership position in a club or organization, being a TA or UA, getting a management position at your job, or being any kind of team leader in a community service endeavor. The important thing is that you are able to express what you learned and how you grew or changed from that experience, plus how you will apply what you learned in the future.

Diversity and Inclusion: Hot topics in medicine right now, my advice is to read about diversity and inclusion in medicine and what it means-- read articles, op-eds, peer-reviewed papers, etc. There are a few ways to go about this issue; one is to find out what is unique about you that you can contribute to medicine, the second (and most important) is to work with underserved and marginalized communities. Being able to express in med school apps and interviews that you understand the difficulties faced by marginalized groups and are committed to better health and wellness outcomes is REALLY important. Being able to show awareness about diversity in medicine is so key. To do this, spend time working with the marginalized and underserved through community service and clinical work. Be able to show med schools that you understand and care about diversity and inclusion.

You should be thinking about leadership and diversity/inclusion throughout all four years of undergrad-- how will you incorporate these things into your app?

Letters of Rec

Getting letters of rec (you will need 5-6) is very important. To do this you will need to build relationships with the following…

Professors: You will need recommendations from 2 science professors and 1-2 non-science professors. To get recs you need to go to office hours, ask questions in class and outside of class, email profs questions, stay after class to ask questions, participate, show an interest in what they are teaching. Office hours are important unless the class is small. Build relationships with professors ALL THROUGHOUT undergrad. Go to office hours even if you don’t have questions, especially in junior and senior year. Go and ask them to review prior tests and papers. Ask if you can explain concepts to them to get clarification. Listen to other peoples’ questions, piggyback off them. A prof is not going to write a LOR unless they know you.

Physicians: You need to have clinical experience to get an MD LOR. And you NEED an MD or DO LOR. Get the clinical experience, then ask whatever physician you worked with the most for an LOR. Many will say you do not need a DO LOR to apply to DO schools; I cannot advocate for this as I was told by my premed advisor that I needed one. Be safe and get one if you plan to apply DO.

Other: If there is anyone else who knows you well and can write a strong LOR, ask them. Your boss, manager, volunteering organizer, team leader, club sponsor-- whomever.

Committee Letter (CL): Many med schools require these. Your college probably has a unique CL process. Go to workshops, research, and ask your advisors how this process works. Maintain a relationship with your premed advisors to obtain a good CL letter.

Building a Narrative

This is talked about a lot junior and senior year when you are applying, but it’s important to think about building your narrative all four years of undergrad.

What this means is that you want to center your application around a theme or common experiences. You want to build a cohesive resume of common volunteering, clinical, and extracurricular experiences that complement each other. You should be able to summarize all of your experiences and draw a narrative about you based on what you have done.

For example, my narrative centered around marginalized and underserved communities as well as social and restorative justice. I used my volunteering experience with marginalized, underserved kids and my experience working with traditionally underserved patients to explain why I want to be a physician, what my medical vision and mission is, and what I have learned about medicine. Because I am interested in family medicine I was able to tie my experience working with the underserved into my goal of improving community health and welfare among marginalized groups. I also discussed how my passion for social and restorative justice ties into my clinical experiences and how I plan to integrate this passion into my practice of medicine.

One of my friends centered her narrative around being a Spanish-speaking person of color AND the descendent of physicians and how this has shaped many of her experiences in medicine and healthcare.

You don’t have to plan out your experiences to conform to a pre-chosen narrative. You do have to be able to draw common themes and lessons from your experiences, however.

MCAT

Talk to your premed advisor about when to take the MCAT and what classes you need to take prior to taking the MCAT. Ideally you want to take biochem 1, physics 2, and sociology of deviance before taking the mcat along with all other prereqs.

You also want to take the MCAT before applying (ideally) so that you can craft an appropriate school list. Your MCAT will give you a boundary for which schools you can apply to. Think of the MCAT as a checkpoint you must pass to apply to certain med schools.

Many people start content review six months before their test. Some start 2-3 months prior. Do what you think is comfortable.

You can use books or purchase review courses (Kaplan, Princeton Review) or use free online review content (Khan Academy).

Practicing how to take the test is more important than content review. What that means is that doing practice tests will help you more than reviewing content. Take as many practice tests as you can (AAMC makes their own).

Do a practice test one day, review what you got wrong the next day. Repeat this enough times and you will do well on the MCAT (511+).

Don’t anticipate retaking the MCAT. But don’t exclude it as a possibility either, so plan when you take the MCAT accordingly.

General Advice:

ALWAYS listen to your premed advisors. Do not elevate advice given by random strangers (including me) on the internet above advice given by your advisors. They know you. They know your history, your transcript, your personality. Us internet people do not. Trust your advisors. They know what they are doing.

Take everything said on the internet by supposed med school app experts, med students, doctors, premeds, SDN mods and commenters, premed redditors, and other random internet people with a BIG grain of salt. We don’t always know what we are talking about.

Limit the amount of time spent on SDN and premed reddit as well as other premed online forums. It can get unhealthy real fast.

You don’t have to study all the time. It’s ok to take breaks and have fun.

Don’t be afraid to reach out and get help or ask questions. Everyone else is struggling too. Your professors want you to do well.

Do non-science related things. Give your mind a break and diversify your experience.

Failing a test is not the end of the world. Many people fail tests and classes. You won’t be alone. Always remember that the curve exists.

If you are having a problem, talk to your professors and TAs. They are there to help.

Study with people. Quiz each other. Make study guides and ask each other questions. Help each other out.

Utilize campus resources- tutoring, study groups, yoga classes, conferences and seminars, counseling, etc.

Buy the MSAR when you start building your school list. It will make comparing schools so much easier.

A B or even a C is not going to ruin your chance of getting into medical school. People get in to med schools with 3.1 GPAs. You will be ok if you fail one test, have a few Cs or Bs, withdraw from a class, etc.

Getting into med school is more about fit than anything else. It’s not about how smart you are or how good your GPA or MCAT is. Everyone has a 4.0 Everyone has a 528. What matters is fit-- who you are, what you believe, what your values are, what your aspirations are-- and how you can demonstrate these things through your application, interview, and overall experiences. Remember that top tier schools are research-oriented (Einstein, Baylor, Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Stanford, NYU, Duke, Mayo, UChicago, Mt Sinai) whereas other lower tier will be more community focused.

ALL med schools (excluding caribbean med schools and a few DO schools, looking at you DMUCOM and LECOM) are valid. All med schools are good med schools. Med school is med school is med school. You will come out with an MD or DO and you will get into residency.

Always apply DO. Just do it. DO is great, DO is a viable option and good opportunity. Do it. Do not exclude it.

Links and other Resources:

AAMC: MD applicants, helpful resources in general https://students-residents.aamc.org/preparing-medical-school/preparing-medical-school

AACOM: DO applicants https://www.aacom.org/become-a-doctor/how-to-apply-to-osteopathic-medical-college

MSAR: handbook to med schools (MD) https://students-residents.aamc.org/medical-school-admission-requirements/medical-school-admission-requirements-applicants

AAMC’s how to apply to med school https://students-residents.aamc.org/applying-medical-school/applying-medical-school

AAMC’s FAQ and tips to creating a good app: https://students-residents.aamc.org/ask-experts/ask-experts-create-winning-application

Why Diversity Matters in Healthcare https://explorehealthcareers.org/career-explorer/diversity-matters-health-care/

#premed #prehealth #studyblr #med school #mcat #my posts #mine

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

Joy

A/N here’s a fluffy and angsty piece I wrote from a request! It’s a bit long but I hope you enjoy 🥺❤️

Request:

https://harryskalechips.tumblr.com/post/620429539601956864/hi-i-was-that-anaon-that-asked-if-you-understand

Claire has had the biggest crush on Harry Styles since eighth grade, now he notices her but it’s for the wrong reason.

Word count 10.1k

“Fuck baby!” Harry pants as he catches Claire running towards him. She was coming from the bleachers, holding onto the big sign with his name on it.

“Congratulations!” She smiles as her arms wrap around his neck. He lifts her up and spins her in a circle. His sweat sticking onto her skin as he took an inhale of her sweet perfume. “You played so great tonight!”

“I was so stressed I thought we were going to lose the game but I glanced at you in the bleachers.” Harry smiles as he sets her down. “You’re so fucking cute, you know that right?” He takes her chin in his hand so he can lean forward to kiss her.

“I’m your number 1 fan.” She bites her lip as she smiles. “And you know...you looked really good.” Her cheeks flush as she compliments him. She’s been in love with him since 8th grade! How did she get so lucky to be his girlfriend? To be standing in the bleachers cheering him on as she wore his sweater?

---

“Hello?” The familiar voice whispers. “Earth to Claire?” Claire blinks her eyes as she falls out of her daydream.

It’s high school and just like every cliché movie, Claire had a major crush on one of the most popular guys in her grade. Harry Styles. The boy sat next to her in AP Bio and although he barely spoke to her, her heart somehow always fluttered when she would get a whiff of his cologne or when she would make eye contact with him on the field. Funny thing is Harry was on the football team with her brother, Tom. So when she would stay after school for her ride home, she couldn’t help but focus a bit more on the cute boy.

“Are you okay?” Hannah asks as she takes a spoonful of her fried rice. “I was literally mentioning how we should come back tonight and watch the senior boys’ football game-” She chewed on her food a bit more as she notices her best friend staring at the table behind them. Following Claire’s gaze, it was the group of boys from their grade. Since lunches were split between grades and Claire and Hannah always chose to sit near the middle, they always had a clear view of the athletic boys who were having their meals at the circle in front of the big windows.

Harry was sitting on the table with his elbows on his thighs as he laughed at Niall Horan’s joke. The rest of the boys were Jack Norton, Samuel Donevy, Mark Randers, and Kai Dowery. Not all of them were on the senior football team but they played other sports and probably had the highest record of dating the girls at their school… except for Harry. He was quiet and he never showed any interest in a girl. Maybe he’s gay? Claire thinks from time to time.

I mean she’s been observing him since 8th grade. She would look at what snacks he would eat during break time, what sweater he would wear for the week. For God’s sake! Claire started eating oranges while walking back and forth in front of him. She was hoping he would ask for a slice. She thought she looked cute as she peeled her orange walking back and forth. From the corner of her eye, she noticed him staring at her. Maybe, he wondered what she was thinking? Or maybe, he thought her red oversized flannel looked cute on her? … Wrong!

Harry watched her during his break time while he ate the small cookies from the bag in his hands. What the fuck is Claire doing? Can she stop? Holy shit, I would aim perfectly if I hit her in the head with my shoe! Can she choke now, please?

I guess that’s how it’s always been since Claire met Harry. When he first transferred to her school, she fell in love with him but Harry paid no mind to her. Instead, she was just some random girl who he’s known for three years.

“You’re staring again.” Hannah throws a pea at Claire. In retaliation, Claire throws it back as it lands near her elbow.

“They’re just in my line of sight.” She scoffs as she takes a sip of her water. “And yes, we can go watch them tonight but we can’t head to the after-party. I need to study for my chem test tomorrow.”

“What? Claire, how else are we going to have fun? I told Brooke, we were going.” Claire wasn’t just friends with Hannah. They had a bigger friend group of 5 but she and Hannah were obviously the closest. The other girls were at their club meetings.

“Go with Brooke then? I’ll just uber home.” Claire packs up her container. She stands up to throw their garbage in the trash bin before coming back. “You know, I don’t want to let you down like this.”

“Sis, you would only stay home tonight if it wasn’t Harry Styles on the football team.” Hannah teases as they get ready to leave. “At least you’re coming to the game.”

“Tom!” Claire runs to her older brother. Hannah and Brook were already sitting in the bleachers as the game was starting in 30 minutes.

“What?” He snaps back. He was sitting on the bench, taking a sip of his water watching the other boys warm up.

“I’m just letting you know, I’m going to uber home tonight. I’m not going to the after-party.” She had to tell her brother where she was going after the game. Ever since their mom and dad divorced, Tom was in charge of his little sister. He had to drive her to places and make sure he knew where she was. It’s been their routine. Hannah would drive from home and to the party. He would meet her at the party so they can drive home together but it seemed like tonight was not the case.

“You don’t need to.” He takes his sister’s sweater and rubs his sweat on it.

“Tom!” She calls out his name in disgust.

“The party is at our house tonight.”

“What about Ben’s?”

“Renovation.”

“But what about mo-”

“She’s working the night shift in the ER today.” He stands up and takes his foot to his back to stretch. “Now, go. Make sure you order 6 boxes of pizza after the game. The guys and I will bring the beer.”

“What’s wrong?” Brooke questions as she watches Claire climb the stairs to their seats. It was starting to crowd, so she had to yell a bit louder.

“The party is at our house tonight?” Claire replies with a confused face. “Tom is so stupid! How could he plan this without telling me?”

“Claire, you know what that means right?” Hannah shakes her head as she takes a sip of her soda. “Harry Styles is going to be at your house tonight! Perfect timing to seduce him!” She wiggles her brows. Claire cringed. Seduce him? That’s exactly what she didn’t want to do. She can already picture him pushing her off.

“No, thanks.” She pouts. If only she didn’t have a test tomorrow, she could be downstairs ogling Harry across the room. Instead, she’ll be ogling a stupid video with the catchy crash course intro. “You guys have fun but you better tell me if some girl starts talking to him.” Brook laughs as she checks her phone.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s going to be standing in the corner drinking a cup while watching other people get pissed drunk.”

The Falcons won. In other words, Harry’s football team won. It ended with Claire coming out of Hannah’s car with a bunch of people waiting for her to open the door. Now, she sat at her desk rubbing her temples in frustration. She could hear people laughing as the music beat vibrated against her floor, making the glass of water on her desk shake in the corner of her eye. I’m about to-

“Sorry, I thought this was the washroom.” She turns around to see Harry standing in her doorway. He had his baseball cap on backwards. He was wearing a band tee she couldn’t recognize.

“Oh, i-tt’s the next door on your left.” Claire stutters as she stands up immediately. “Hi.” Harry gives her a strange look before looking around her room.

“Hi.” He pauses before talking again. “Nice room.” He was about to go but Claire needed to speak up. This was the only time she had his attention.

“Did you study for the chemistry test tomorrow?” Oh my fucking god… You’re so dumb Claire.

“I don’t have chemistry.” He raises his eyebrow at her before holding onto her doorknob. “Sorry to bother.” And with that, he closed her door shut leaving her dumbfounded. Claire stood there as her heart kept beating fast. That had to be the third time Harry spoke to her.

The first time was in freshman year when he asked her for an eraser during math class. The second time was in Biology class three months ago, when he told her to shut up after she kept asking Mr. Lisak questions about the nucleotides in genes. She hated herself, she really did.

After a while, Claire came to a realization that she couldn’t study tonight so she stood up once again to head downstairs to see what fun she was missing.

“Hannah!” Claire pushed herself through the crowd to greet her and Brooke. They were sitting in a circle with some other kids from their grade. Brooke moved over so Claire can sit with them.

“I thought you were studying?” she whispered to her friend as she took a sip of her mixed drink.

“I couldn’t concentrate.” Claire bit her lip. She was watching the board game in front of them but as she looked up, she noticed her brother laughing with his friends. What stood out to her was that Harry was with them. “I have to go.” Y/N stands up as she watches her brother call her over.

“Where are you going?” Hannah asks as she leans into Gabby.

“My brother needs me.” She sits up carefully as she continues to walk towards Tom. “What do you need?”

“What are you doing down here? I thought you were studying?” He asks as he crosses his arms. His friends were laughing to themselves as they watched the siblings talked. “What are you guys laughing about?” He eyes them. Carlos shakes his head as he looks at me.

“Isn’t Claire in eleventh grade? So, is Styles-”

“Shut up.” My brother interrupts him. “Don’t drink too much, you have to help me clean.” he talks to Claire again.

“What? I wasn’t the one who initiated this whole thing!”

“Yeah, well you came downstairs so you’re automatically co-hosting with me.”

“Reports on last night’s cleanup?” Sandra asks Claire as they walk to Bio. Sandra and Kaitlyn were the other two girls in their friend group but they both hated going to parties so instead, they chose to have movie nights when the other girls were out.

“It was horrible.” Claire rolls her eyes as they enter the classroom. Other students were getting settled in as well. Claire didn’t need to admit it. Today was an absolute shit day. First off, her chemistry test was a total fail. Her mom seemed to be too suspicious about last night’s events, and now, Mr. Lisak was assigning their bio assignments.

“Glad to know I won’t ever have to deal with that.” Sandra brushes her hair away from her face. “You don’t even like parties, I can’t believe you still go.”She sets her textbook on the table. “I know it’s because your boyfriend Ha-”

“Shut up. Don’t say his name!” Claire pulls Sandra’s hair softly. Harry was just so happening walking behind them to his seat.

“Claire.” He calls her out. Harry was calling her.

“Yeah.”

“I need to talk to you after class.” He doesn’t look at her as he unloads his backpack.

Harry and Claire walked alongside each other as they exited the school’s building. She had to text Hannah to find a group of friends to sit with since she didn’t know how long this conversation would take. Harry stopped them in front of a tree near the football field. What did he need to tell her?

“Your brother thinks you have a crush on me.” He keeps a straight face as he looks at her. Claire chokes on her breath. She takes a step back and looks at the field.

“Whaaaat? I do not!” She scoffs back with a particular tone. She never told Tom, how would he know!

“So, you don’t like me?”

“No, of course, I do! You’re such a nice guy- and you play really well on-” She rambles on as she watches Harry just look at her.

“It’s a yes or no question.” He shakes his head.

By the time, Claire got her thoughts together, she notices him already walking away from her, she had to yell. “No! I don’t like you!” He pauses in his tracks and turns around.

“Okay good because I need a favour.” Claire widens her eyes. Harry Styles after three years of having the fattest crush on him, he’s happy to know she doesn’t like him? She lied!

“What do you need?”

“I need you to go on a date with Finn Hartley.” Harry walks back towards her as he holds onto the straps of his backpack.

“Finn Hartley? You don’t even talk to him!”

“How would you know?” Harry questions her making her mouth run dry. She’s been obsessed with you, that’s why.

“I just- I don’t think you hang around him that much.”

“Well, I do. I need you to go on one date with him.”

“Why?”

“He likes you.” Claire widens her eyes once again. How did Finn like her? She’s always been busy with her attention on Harry. She didn’t know a boy liked her.

“How long has he liked me?” She mumbles as her cheeks begin to flush.

“Since the beginning of the year. I lost a bet with him so I had to set him on a date with you.”

“What was the bet on?” She bites her lip. Claire didn’t even realize she was standing so close to him. He still smelled the same. She was wondering if he was warm enough to hug her. Maybe, if she kissed him now, all these feelings would go away.

“Some stupid shit.”

“Why does my brother think I like you?”

“Stop asking questions, Jameson.” He calls her out by her last name.

“Just one date?” She pushed back, ignoring his last statement. Harry just sighs and turns her around before pushing her to walk back towards the school building. She couldn’t help but notice how his hands were still on her shoulders as they continued to walk.

“Yes, one date. If you don’t like him, that’s okay. I don’t care.”

Claire sat in the bleachers by herself as she took a book from her bag. She was staying after school today since Tom had another practice. She couldn’t help but notice Harry doing push-ups with some other boys.

It’s a bit weird how easily Harry’s presence can bring her joy. Despite him not noticing her, just seeing him already made her day.

He was already sweating due to the sunlight that was directly pointing in their direction. He stood up walking to the bench to take off his shirt but for some reason, this was his first time noticing her. I mean, he knew that Claire Jameson sat in the bleachers every time they had practice but this was the first time that he caught himself looking at her.

She sat quietly in the bleachers as she read her book. She seemed to have been smiling from something she was reading but little did he know, it was because she was watching him.

“Did you tell Harry I like him?” Claire sits in the passenger seat next to her brother. He put his shades on and started the car. Claire was watching Harry get into his own car across the parking lot.

“Styles? You like Styles?” Tom laughs as he rubs his itchy nose.

“So, you didn’t tell him?”

“Claire, I’m not going to lie I think you’re kind of out of his league.”

“Really?” She blushed. Her brother thought she deserved better? But Harry was her first love!

“No, you ugly sack of potatoes.” He turns out of the lot as he blasts the music. “I’m so going to tell mom you have a crush!”

“Tom!” ~ Bz. Bzz.

Claire drops her pen and leans over to grab her phone on the bed. It was from Harry.

Harry: I’m coming over tonight. H.

Claire blinks repeatedly as she stares at the message. Luckily, she already updated her friends about Harry but this was just out of nowhere!

Claire: Why?

Harry: I need to give you some tips on how to make Finn have the best date H.

Claire: Shouldn’t he be working hard on how to make me have the best date.

Harry: I’m just coming over to give you some tips on what to talk about. H.

Claire couldn’t help but let her cheeks turn red. She never knew he texted with his initial at the end.

Claire: okay.

“Hey.”, Claire smiled as she opened the door for Harry. It was around 7 PM and he seemed to have change into a red flannel and black jeans.

“Hey.” He glances at her and walks in.

“Sweetie, I see your friend is here.” Claire’s mom steps into the foyer. “I’m Morgan. It’s nice to meet you…”

“Harry.”

“Styles?” Tom comes downstairs with a bag of chips in his hand. He then looks at his sister and laughs. “Holy shit, you actually could go-” Claire throws her slipper at him.

“Mom, we’ll be in my room.”

“Oooooo.” Her brother teases as she pushes him out of the way. She grabs Harry’s wrist so she can take him upstairs.

She slams the door close as Harry sits on her bed. What is she doing? Why is he here? Why did she lie about not liking him? Now, she has to go on a date with his friend, when she’s been wanting to go on one with him!

“Are you okay?” He licks his lips and leans back on her bed. His legs were wide open as he watched her and she had to look away before she invites herself in between them.

“I’m fine.” She glances at his face then looks away. She sits at her desk and looks at him. “I haven’t been on a date before.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”

“How would you know that?” Claire was a bit offended. He knew she’s never been on a date. That no guy has ever been interested in her… no wonder he paid no attention towards her.

“I don’t know.” He looks at her ceiling. She still had those glow in the dark stars.

“Before we talk about my date though, you need to come clean.” She mumbles as she plays with the tiny cracks on her phone. She pushed it away after feeling some glass on her skin.

“About what?” He sniffles and sits up a bit more. He couldn’t stop himself from picking up a frame of her. It was her sixth birthday, and she was blowing her cake with her dad and brother beside her.

“Tom doesn’t think I like you.”

“Oh.” He puts the picture down and shakes his head before looking at her. He leans his chin on his hands before kissing his teeth and replying. “Yeah, It was me. Thought you liked me?” Claire’s heart stopped beating. Was it obvious? How she would always ramble when she would see him? How she watched him on the field and in the cafeteria. Holy shit, how she would eat things based on what he would eat?

“Well, I-”

“Yeah, I know you don’t Claire. I realized you’re just a weirdo.” Claire crinkles her face.

“Thanks.”

“No, but for real, I had to make sure you didn’t like me or anything. That’s fucked up if I tried to set you up with Finn.” Well, you’re in for a surprise.

“Really fucked up.” She laughs at herself.

“Okay, let’s get started.” He yawns a bit. “I told Finn that I got your input about going on a date with him and he’s happy about it-” Harry continues on but for some reason, Claire found herself just looking at him. How he would rub his chin and use his hands to explain things. “Claire. Claire!”

“Yeah!” She falls out of her trance. Trying to pull it off smoothly, she spins her chair around and looks at him. “I’ve been listening!”

“No, you haven’t.”

“Yes, I have!”

“What did I just say?” He smirks at her, leaving Claire to smack her forehead on the desk. “Hey, stop you’re going to get a bruise. Why are you hitting yourself so hard?”

“I’m stupid!”

“Or more like falling asleep.” He pulls her off the chair to join him on the bed. “Y’know if you don’t want tips. It’s fine, I was thinking about talking you through it but I should just leave.”

“No, don’t!” Claire urgently replies back. God, does she sound desperate or what? Seduce him! Hannah’s voice enters her mind. She possibly can’t. Should she?

Claire decides to give a go. Maybe, if he rejects her, this is how she’ll find out if he’s gay or not. She lets her hair down before biting her lip. She leans a bit back on one of her elbows as she reaches over for her remote to turn on the TV. Specifically, Netflix.

“What the fuck are you doing Claire.” Harry sits next to her with his eyebrows furrowed. He pushes her arm, making her completely fall onto the bed. He leans over to take the tv remote but just as he was hovering over her, the door busted open.

“Claire, what did I say. No closed doors when boys- Oh My God!” Morgan yells as she looks at Harry partly hovering over her daughter as the screen of movies and tv shows are on display.

“Mom!”

Harry quickly pulls away and stands up before clearing his throat. Claire sits up as well, tying her hair back up.

“I’m leaving. No closed doors!” Morgan quickly walks away. Harry turns around to look at her before throwing himself back on the bed.

“Are you okay?” He rubs his eyes and looks at her. He honestly thinks this girl is weird. How does Finn like her?

Hm, how should Claire respond to that? I’m fine. I was just trying to seduce you that’s all.

“Yeah, my ponytail was giving me a headache and I was wondering if we should watch a movie while you explain the stuff.” Harry didn’t reply when she was done speaking. Instead, he reached over to pull her hair tie off her, softly as possible.

“There.” He throws it back at her before taking the remote. “Wanna watch a random episode of friends?”

“Um, sure.” She takes the hair tie back as she sits a safe distance away from him so they can watch the show.

Throughout the episode, Harry ended up sitting against the wall with Claire as he spoke about what to expect from Finn or more importantly from a first date. This time she listened well and tried not to focus too much on him. Of course, it still made her heart beat fast when he would laugh at her stupid questions but if Harry thought she was a weirdo… then a weirdo she is.

Click. Claire hears as she opens her eyes. It was Tom holding his phone as he took a picture of her and Harry. Claire wanted to yell at him so badly but she was kind of happy he took the pic. Plus as she turned a bit, she noticed she was laying on Harry’s shoulder. God, how did they end up this way? Last she knew, She was closing her eyes subtly as he continued to explain what was a good conversation starter. Did he think she was a loser? That she can’t even impress his friend? Well, not too wrong, she can barely handle a conversation with him.

Tom laughs as he walks forward to tug on Harry’s ankle. “Yo Styles, wake up.” Claire immediately pulls away as she stretches her arms.

“Fuck did I fall asleep? Sorry, Claire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Do you like my sister or not?” Tom glances at his sister before looking at Harry.

“What? No dude.” Harry gets off the bed as he rubs his eyes. “I fell asleep by accident.” He looks at Claire as he rubs his chin.

“Mom is asking if you want some dinner before you leave.”

“Oh no, It’s fine I got to head home anyway.” Harry glances at the clock. It was about 9 PM. He never stayed this late at a girl’s house before. Quite frankly, he never really went to their house, they came to his.

As Harry was driving home, he couldn’t help but sniff his flannel a lot, especially on his left side where Claire was sleeping. As he parked his car and came inside, he noticed how lonely it felt. How the picture of his dad sat on the fireplace. He missed him.

“You fell asleep on Harry?” Kaitlyn clarifies as the five of them sat on the field. Their Classes were about to start in 15 minutes and this was usually the time when all of them could hang out.

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, when did Harry start noticing you?” Hannah laughs as she plucks some grass and into her fingers.

“I don’t know… ever since my brother hosted the party at our place?”

“It had to be before. Finn likes you! When did that bet take place anyway?” Brooke questions as she lays her head on Sandra’s lap.

“That’s true, you should ask.” Sandra braids Brooke’s hair as she listens to the conversation.

“I barely ever spoke to Finn in my life.” Claire leans up to look at the sky. “Now, Harry only notices me because of him.”

“That’s cute. Imagine if Harry ends up liking you or you end up having a crush on Finn.”

“I don’t know. I’d pick Harry over anyone.”

“Ooooo.” Kaitlyn teases as she playfully pushes Claire into Hannah’s side.

“Jameson!” The girls look up to see Harry a bit further from them. He stood in a black T-shirt and his signature skinny black jeans.

“I got to go. Duty calls.”

“Yeah, your boyfriend is calling.” Brooke burst out in laughter as Claire pulls some grass herself before dropping it in Brooke’s face.

“Yeah.” She catches up to him as they begin to walk inside the building.

“He’s asking you out today during lunch. Where do you eat?”

“In the cafeteria…” Claire pouts a bit as she looks at Harry. He really never did notice her. She sat in front of him every day and he had no idea!

“Oh okay. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What? I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Cut the crap, Claire. I don’t know what’s your problem today but that’s all I needed to tell you.” And with that, Harry walks away, leaving her pretty sad.

She didn’t feel right. How obsessed she’s been about him, only to have him talk to her a couple of times due to a lost bet. It sucked.

Last night before they fell asleep, they were talking about the what-ifs on her first date. She remembered him smiling and laughing at her awkwardness. Now, it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her.

Hannah sat in front of Claire in their usual seats. She was drinking some chocolate milk while doing her homework. Claire seemed to barely touch her food. “Are you okay? What did Harry tell you?” Hannah couldn’t help but asks. She noticed how her best friend barely looked at the table behind them ever since lunch started.

As Hannah brought the topic up, Claire couldn’t help but look at the table, only to catch Harry already looking at her. Well, hi to you too. “I’m fine. It’s just- Harry was kind of mean today. I thought after getting to know him, he would be a bit nicer.”

“But do you really know anything about him?”

“I know…” Claire seemed to be lost on this one and it upset her more. She claims to be in love with him but she doesn’t even know what he likes? What his favourite colour is? “I know he has a sister named Gemma. She’s in University.”

“How do you only know that?”

“He said it in 8th grade, during a presentation.” Claire shakes her head and looks down. She is so pathetic.

“Hey Claire,” She looks up again to see Finn Hartley standing at their table. “Hey, Hannah.”

“Hi.” Claire forces a smile at him as she feels Harry’s eyes on her.

“I was wondering if I could get your number and take you out on a date?” Finn smiles at her as she glances at Harry once more. He seemed to be far more interested in Natalie and her friends who sat at their table a couple of minutes ago.

“Here you go. I can’t wait where we’re going to go.” Claire genuinely replies as she fills in his phone.

“Thanks.” Finn smiles as he puts his phone in his pocket. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You better come over and help me prepare for this date.” Claire lets out a sigh as she begins to eat.

“Wait so, he’s taking you out to Mcdonalds?” Hannah asks confusedly as she sits on Claire’s bed. “For a guy who seems to like you, his date location choice seems pretty… uh”

“I know right?” Claire pauses as she tries on a new shirt. “ I don’t know it’s fine. It’s my first date though. I’m really excited.”

“I’m really happy for you, babe. After Harry stopped talking to you, I can only imagine how open-minded you are to this.”

“Thanks for coming, it means a lot.”

“Anything for you.”

“So, what would you like to order?” The girl asks the pair as they look at the menu and at her.

“I’ll have combo 1 please,” Finn states as he looks at Claire.

“I’ll have combo three, the chicken nuggets.” She smiles. The night was a bit awkward, she expected Finn to talk a bit more. That’s what Harry told her. Instead, he was quiet as a mouse, barely acknowledging her.

As they took their seats in the booth, Claire couldn’t help but take a french fry in her mouth. She was quiet too and Finn was just trying to eat his burger.

“Are we okay?” Claire couldn’t help but asks. Harry told her that Finn was excited about tonight but instead, he was acting as if he hated being here. The boy looks up and nods his head.

“Yeah, I ‘m fine. Just a bit shy.”

“It’s okay. Me too. It’s kind of my first date.”

“Really? This is probably my third but I don’t go out much.” Claire dips her nugget in her sauce as she laughs a bit.

“Same. Let’s get to know each other.” She takes a bit of the meat in her hands. “ How did you and Harry become friends?” She wasn’t going to lie. Finn was cute but she didn’t know much about him.

“Oh, Haz and I? We’re next-door neighbours. I knew him since he moved in.”

“Why haven’t I seen you during middle school then?”

“Homeschooled.” Finn laughs as he takes a sip of his soda. “You’re probably wondering what our bet was. I would have asked you on a date without his help but I was really nervous.” Claire smiled at him and shakes her head.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. I’m glad I’m here tonight.” Was that a lie? She wasn’t mad to be here but she did wish she was with Harry instead.

“Harry and I were playing soccer in my backyard. I ended up getting more shots than him. I mean, the guy is better in American football than his English soccer, isn’t that crazy?”

“I’m sure he was a bit rusty.” She laughs about their bet. “What was his reward if he won?”

“Nothing actually. Sometimes, I think he purposely lost so I could finally go out with you.”

“That’s nice of him,” Claire admitted. So, she didn’t know much about Harry but that little story from Finn made her think the world of Harry. She wished that he still talked to her.

You guessed it. Claire was stuck on the bleachers again waiting for her brother. Tomorrow, they had a home game so tonight’s practice was a bit more longer. She played with her hair as she watched the boys run from one side of the cone to another. She was trying her best to not look at the curly-headed boy.

After her great date with Finn, she came to the conclusion that maybe it was time to get over Harry Styles.

After all, he really made sure to let her know he doesn’t like her.

Once practice was over, she noticed Tom talking to his friends before climbing the bleachers to meet up with his sister. “Claire, tonight we have a change of plans.”

“What?” She whined. It was already 5 PM and all she wanted to do was head home and sleep.

“Jeffrey and the others are heading to the diner for some food, you can either come or you can walk home.” Claire put her backpack on as she stood in front of him.

“I’ll uber home.” She really didn’t want to walk for 30 minutes if she was being honest.

“I’ll drive her,” A voice speaks out. Tom and Claire look at the bottom to see Harry holding onto his sweat bag. Tom smirked at his sister before walking down again. Claire followed along without another word.

“No funny business Styles, you drop my sister home and then you leave.” Usually, Tom wouldn’t let a guy from his team talk to his sister but weirdly enough, he let Harry drive his sister home. After all, she had a big crush on him. Tom walked away leaving Harry and Claire on the field while the other boys were in the change room. She glanced at Harry to see him rubbing the back of his neck before nodding his head to the exit.

“Let’s go.”

Step by step, Claire followed him to his car. It was a regular black sleek Sedan. She sat in the passenger seat while she watched Harry throw his bag in the trunk before sitting down in front of the wheel.

She sat awkwardly in the seat as Harry just observed her. “What?” She mumbles as she stared straight ahead of her. Harry just laughs at her as he shakes his head. After a couple of seconds, the boy leans over to grab the seat belt on her side. He clicks it on and puts his on too. “You could have just told me.” She bites her lip as she adjusts the strap on her chest.

“Yeah but for some reason Jameson, you act like you have no brain cells when you’re around me.”

“No, I don’t.” She protested as Harry smirks at her. He starts the car and begins to drive. “Thanks for the ride though. It’s nice of you.”

“I wanted to hear about your date last night.” He glanced at her. She’s pretty. Holy shit, stop that Harry.

“Of course you do.” She rolls her eyes as she takes an inhale. His car smelled exactly like him. “It went great though. In the beginning, it was a bit rough but after a while, it was really fun.”

“That’s good to hear.” He didn’t know why he asked her. After their date, Finn knocked on his door, telling him everything about it. It made him a bit… upset. The only question in Harry’s mind was why? Why did it bother him? He barely spoke to this girl since a couple weeks ago and for some damn reason, he’s been thinking about her since.

He remembered how talkative she was during Bio class. She was way too interested in genes than anybody else in the room. How she bit her pencil when she couldn’t understand the topic. He already knew she was going to raise her hand up by the way she kept glancing at her notes and then at the slides.

How she was reading something while she sat in the bleachers or on some nights, she would just watch them train…. He was suddenly getting a bunch of thoughts of her thrown into his head.

“Harry?” She pokes his arm as he stares at his wheel. They finally arrived at her place after not really talking during the drive home. Now, she needed the boy to unlock the door. He shakes his head and looks at her house. Harry shrugs his shoulders, waiting for her to get out but the only problem was she didn’t know what button unlocked her door. “Can you unlock the door?” He presses the button on his side before looking at her. “Thanks… would you like to come in?” Claire screamed in her head. Why would she ask him that!”

“Your brother said no funny business. I’m scared you might try and seduce me again.”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Claire lies as she grabs her backpack and steps out. “Okay, fine go home. I was going to make you dinner!” Harry smiles at her. He was only teasing her but to see her so flustered made him a bit happier.

“I’m coming.” He pulls his keys out and unbuckles his belt.

They sat together in Claire’s kitchen, eating some pasta. Tom wasn’t home yet nor was her mom so they had the house to themselves. Harry already had two bowls why Claire just ate slowly while watching him eat.

“You know, we never really talked and we’ve known each other since eighth grade,” She speaks out as she pours him a glass of orange juice. She sat in her hoodie and her tights after they came home.

“I don’t talk to a lot of people, especially girls.” He mumbled thanks after, she put the juice box down.

“That’s not true. I saw you talking to Natalie and her friends!” He raises his brow at her and takes another forkful of the pasta in his bowl.

“Do you stalk me, Jameson?” “No.” She widens her eyes and pours more juice in his glass. It was still full… “I don’t know anything about you.”

“I have a sister named Gemma.”

“I know.” He drops his utensil in his bowl. He slowly drags the cup towards him since he didn’t want to spill the juice. The girl beside him filled it to the brim.

“Drink it.” He looks at her then his glass of juice.

“I already have a cup. No thanks.”

“Drink it.” He smirks and pushes it towards her. She filled it to the top so she has to fix it.

Claire leans forward as she takes small sips from his glass. She couldn’t help but think of how lips touched it before hers. After she finished it halfway through, she pulled away and wiped her mouth. She was about to look at Harry for his reaction but instead, he pulls her closer to kiss her. He kissed her!

His hand was on her arm as he pulled her towards him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him but instead, she stayed frozen. His lips were so soft just like she imagined. He couldn’t help but suck on her top lip as it tasted like orange juice.

He pulls away as he looks at her and bites his lip. “I have to go.” He sits up immediately and gets ready to leave her house. Claire chases after him and just as he was about to walk through the open door, she couldn’t help but call him out.

“Are you gay!?” She watches him with tears in her eyes. He regretted kissing her. A boy like him didn’t like her. The boy she was in love with wanted nothing to do with her.

“What? No!” He replies with a particular tone in his voice. He was obviously offended. “Bye Jameson, thanks for the food.” he mumbles.

Claire closes the door and locks it before walking to her staircase and sitting down. Her sleeves were her only substitute as tissues while she continued to cry. Harry Styles was her first kiss and he walked away from her right after.

Let’s go Falcons! Let’s go!

The cheerleaders chanted in the corner of the field as the boys continued to vs the Panthers. Claire was sitting in the bleachers as usual with Brooke and Hannah. She tried not to come tonight but the moment, Hannah showed up at her house, she couldn’t say no. Now, they sat together cheering on their school. From the corner of her eye, she could see Finn sitting with his friends. They were known for running the robotics club, which was really cool.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Claire announced as she stood up from her friends. Their school was winning by 92-77. She was barely watching the game anyways. After last night, she’s been avoiding her brother. She didn’t want Tom to know about Harry and their kiss.

“Hey.” Finn elbows her and smiles. They stood at the front of their vending machine with some other guests standing behind them.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry for not calling you back after that date.” Maybe, he wasn’t interested in her too. “I just- my mom is sick and she went back to the hospital.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that. It’s fine Finn.” She couldn’t help but hug him. She hated it when she heard stories about her friends’ parents. When something bad happened to them, she couldn’t help but feel as if they’re her parents too, especially since her dad left them.

“Styles!” Norton yells at him as he misses the ball. The coach calls time, making their team head back to the benches.

“What were you looking at!?” Tom snaps at him as they huddle up. Harry shakes his head as he takes his helmet off.

“Sorry, I don’t know.” But he did know. He was looking at Jack running with the ball but his eyes caught Claire and Finn hugging near the vending machines. He obviously had no idea why it made him lose focus.

“Get back on the field and if you get your head out of the game one more time, you’re out!” Coach Turner smacks his board on the pole. The other team was finally catching up.

“What took you so long?” Brooke questions as Claire sits beside her again. Hannah was taking selfies with their poster.

“Saw Finn.” She replies back as she smiled at the boy who looked at her one more time before talking to his friends.

“You missed Harry getting yelled at by your brother. I think Coach Turner did too.”

“Why did he get yelled at?” Her brows furrowed as she caught eyes with Harry. He was about to snap the football behind to her brother. It was crazy how they could still see each other even though she was on the bleachers. She wasn’t far though only 6 rows up.

“He missed a play.”

“Party tonight at Ben’s!” Hannah cheers as she leans on Claire’s shoulder but for some reason, Claire couldn’t stop thinking of Harry.

“Another win for the boys!!! HUH HUH!!” Norton yells as the boys enter Ben’s house. Harry followed behind them with a smile on his face as he took a beer from a random guy who offered it to him. After the game, Jack and Tom seemed cool with him again. After all, he scored two touchdowns after his mistake. Now, tonight was their celebratory party… like always.

“You played really well, Harry.” Natalie walks to him as he stands at the table where the snacks were laid out.

“Thanks, Nat.” He purses his lips as he looks at the variety of chips in front of him. He was having a hard choice between them.

“I was wondering if you wanted to I don’t know… Go somewhere a bit quieter?” Harry pretended to act clueless but he knew exactly what she was talking about. He never really liked a girl but he did play around with Natalie from time to time. He just hated the way she talked. Harry was about to say yes until he saw Claire across the room, dancing by herself… surrounded by other people who seemed to ignore her. Where were her friends? Did she know that she can’t dance?

“No thanks.” He walks away to grab Claire from the crowd. He brought her outside on the patio where most people were just chilling. Where was Tom?

“Claire.” He tries to stabilize her as she holds onto his shoulders. “Why are you drunk?” If anything, Harry knew Claire wasn’t the type to lose her self control at parties. He noticed she was just as sober as he was… at least most of the time.

“Why di coach Turnerrr yell at you?” She pouts and leans into him.

“I made a mistake.” His hands placed themselves on her waist. He could feel her skin through the thin cropped cardigan and skinny jeans she was wearing.

“You know! I like Finn.” Harry couldn’t help but look down at their shoes.

“You do?”

“Yeah! Especially when he told me how youuu lost the gamee so he can go on a date with me!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He lies as he takes a whiff of her sweet perfume. She smelled like lavender.

“You’re British! How could you not be good at soccer?” She looks at him as she slurs. She takes her pointer finger and taps his nose.

“True.”

“You know who I like more than Finn though?” “Who?”

“You! I’ve liked you since eighth grade!”

“What?” His eyes widened. Harry stared at her eyes to see if she was lying but instead, she smiled sweetly as her cheeks were pink as the colour of her room.

“Mhm. Been in love with you since! I always tried to get your attention but you never noticed me!”

“Claire.” He looks at her. He doesn’t know how he feels about the new fact He doesn’t even know what to say. Yeah, he’s always wanted a girlfriend but he never really found a girl for him… well except now. Harry was liking the idea of Claire being his girlfriend. He thought that she liked him but after the first time, she said no, he got his answer and he never thought about it again.

“Holy shit Claire!” Brooke comes out of the house to see them too. She was wondering where her friend was. “Hi, Harry.” Harry took his hands off of her immediately as he pushed the girl into her friend’s arms.

“Hey. I brought her out here, it was pretty hot inside and she’s pretty drunk.” Brooke trusted him as she took Claire. She knew he wasn’t trying to take advantage of her. Truthfully, she heard their whole conversation and the moment she saw Harry’s reaction to Clarie’s confession, she had to come in.

“Thanks.” Harry just nods before walking back inside.

“I knew what I said. Stop bringing it up.” Claire groans as she and her friends sat on the football field just like usual. It was now a Monday and ever since Friday night’s party, her anxiety has been killing her.

“You know, you can always pretend you don’t remember.”

“What?” She takes a sip from her thermos as she listens to Kaitlyn’s suggestion.

“That’s true. You were drunk! Just pretend you don’t remember.” Sandra agrees with her.

“You should. Remember how he just left after kissing you.” Brooke joins into the conversation.

“Tom should never hear about that.” Claire rubs her eyes.

“He won’t as long as you never tell him.” Hannah shakes her head and laughs. “He probably yelled at your ass when you guys were driving home.”

“I still hate how he drinks then drives.” Brooke pouts as she bites her lip. She may have a crush on Claire’s brother.

“He barely drinks though but yeah, I definitely got yelled at.”

“Shit was that the bell?” Sandra sits up and helps the other girls stand up too. “We gotta go. I’ll see you in Bio Claire.”

“Pssst, Psssst Claire!” Harry whispers at her as people enter their classroom.

“What?” She looks at him and takes her pencil case.

“Meet me at the tree during lunch.” Claire wanted to say no. That Hannah needed a buddy to sit with but it was Monday and the other girls had no meetings today so they were going to be a full table anyway.

“What? No.” That was the first time she said no.

“Yes, you will.”

“Class, Let’s get started.”

Harry leaned against the tree as he watched the girl in the dress walk towards him. The sun was shining on her as she carefully walked on the field trying not to get mud on her white sneakers.

“What do you need, Harry? Does Finn want to go on another date?” Claire arrives as she holds onto the straps of her backpack. She was cute, really really cute. Harry had to shake out of his thoughts as he spoke to her.

“You know, you were drunk on Friday.” “I know. I got yelled at by Tom.” She picks up a stick and peels its skin. Harry takes the thing in her hands and throws it away. “Hey!”

“Do you like me?” He cuts her off as he steps closer to her. “You better not lie this time or so help me God, Claire.”

“I told you I don’t.” “Who do you like then?” Harry tested her.

“Finn.” She replies confidently as he clenches his fist.

“That’s not what you said last Friday.”

“I didn’t say anything last Friday! Especially, not to you!” She lied. She knew Harry didn’t like her. She needed to save herself the embarrassment.

“You told me you-”

“I don’t even know anything about you! You barely let me in!”

“Why do you care so much about knowing me!” He yells back at her. She turns around as she feels tears in her eyes. “Are you fucking crying?” She turns around again and sighs.

“I tell you anything you want to know about me but the moment I ask you something, you cut everything short!” “No one cares about me-”

“I do, Harry! I care about you!” She rubs her face and hugs herself. Why did she have to care so much about this boy?

“If you think this is some romantic movie...” He looks at the field then back at her. “That I’m going to comfort you and tell you shit about myself than you’re wrong Claire.” He takes his backpack and leaves her there, by the tree.

“You okay?” Tom unlocks the front door and lets his sister inside the house first. “If you’re still mad about me yelling at you on Friday, you deserve it. You know you need to be careful during these parties.” “I get it, Tom.” Claire walks straight upstairs and shuts her bedroom door.

The pillows surrounding her head comforted her as she continued to cry. It’s pretty sad how she thought he was different. She always admired him from afar but now that she knows him she wants nothing to do with him. She was surprised when her brother opened the door.

“Tom,-” He ignores her and shuts the door. He stands away from her as he watches her cry.

“Did I make you cry or did somebody else?”

“Do you miss dad?” Claire ignores his question and sits up.

“No, I hate him.” He throws the tissue box on the vanity towards her.

“I miss him.” She glances at the picture from her birthday as she wipes her tears with the tissues. “Some times I wonder why I like Harry so much.”

“What did he do? Is he the one who’s making you cry.” Claire shakes her head not to disagree with him but to point the conversation somewhere else.

“Maybe ever since Dad left, I needed to find another person to help me cope with the divorce. Maybe, that’s why I always thought of him.” “I don’t know Claire.” Tom itches his head as he watches his sister. “You do know I’m here for you right. Even when I move off to college, I’m still here.”

“I wonder how I’m going to get home now.” “Learn how to drive you dumbass.” Claire sticks her middle finger at him as she opens her arms.

“Now, come hug me.”

Finn sighs as he kicks the soccer ball past the soccer net. Harry and he were hanging out by the soccer field near their houses. “Fuck man, I don’t know what to say.” He looks back at the curly-headed boy sitting on the grass. “You’re saying if I didn’t win the bet, you wouldn’t have realized you like her? Claire?”

“I’m sorry. I just felt like I needed to tell you about this. You can be mad at me. I just- I don’t know.” Harry rests his face in his hands. Finn sits down in front of him and pushes his arms.

“You sure you like Claire Jameson?” He raises his brows at him. “I thought you said she was stupid and weird.”

“She is Finn! That’s the problem!” Harry falls on the grass as he looks at the sky. “She’s not even stupid. She’s actually really smart. She’s just awkward and clumsy - and she’s so fucking cute like that I don’t-”

“Okay, I get it you like the girl.” Finn laughs sadly as he looks at his friend. “You know, I really think she’s a nice girl but when we were on our date, she couldn’t help but talk about you a lot. She kept trying to ask me questions about you.” “I don’t even know if she likes me. She said she did. I asked her today and then she said no! Girls are crazy man!” “I know but in fairness, this is the first girl you spoke about to me.”

“She drives me crazy.”

“Can you imagine how crazy you’ve been driving her since eighth grade then?” Finn laughs as he stands up again. “Come on, let’s play one more round together and make a bet.”

~ “Hey.” Finn catches up to Claire as they walk in the hallways together. Lunch had just started and she needed to meet Hannah at their table.

“Hey Finn, how are you? How’s your mom?”

“We’re good Claire, thanks for asking.” He holds onto his binder a bit tighter. “I was wondering if I can take you out on a date again?”

“Oh okay.” Claire looks at him. “When?”

“Tonight?”

“Um, on a school night?” “Yeah. I know it’s just my only free day.”

“Okay. Are you going to pick me up?” “Yeah, wear something nice alright?” Claire raises her eyebrows in surprise. Wow, his standards obviously upgraded.

“He’s taking you out again?” Hannah rolls her eyes as she eats her burger. “To Mcdonalds?”

“No. Somewhere nicer.” Claire glances up to see Harry already looking at her. Niall seemed to be talking to him but his attention was somewhere else, or someone else.

“Stop looking at him!” Hannah throws a piece of her sliced cabbage at Claire.”Chant with me. We don’t like Harry Styles, we don’t like-”

“I have to go.” Claire stands up and throws her lunch out. “Go to Sam’s table.” She walks out of the cafeteria. She needed to clear her mind before class and Harry in her peripheral vision wasn’t helping anybody.

She needed to scream at him. She needed to scream at herself. She needed an outlet. By the time she knew it, she was back at the tree from yesterday. As she sat down, she couldn’t help but pout. She’s frustrated, really really frustrated.

“Where we going?” Claire asks Finn as he drives out of her neighbourhood.

“Harbour.” He smiles at her.

“I love the harbour!” She couldn’t help but feel the excitement as she sat in her seat.

By the time, they were there, Finn helped her out of her seat before going back to his. “Finn, Where are you going?” Claire asked in panic as he started his car again. She really tried for this date. She was wearing a bit more makeup than usual and she was even wearing a dress.

“Look behind you.”Finn smiles sadly then drives away. Claire turns around to see Harry in a suit, holding a rose.

“Harry…” She walks towards him. He gives her the pink rose before holding onto her hand and directing them to the restaurant in the front. “Wait, what about Finn?” Harry rolls his eyes as he pulls a seat out for her.

“Is it not obvious that I’m your date tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me love, or I might get that boy to come back here and continue this date for me.” Her cheeks flushed red as she looks at him.

“Why couldn’t you ask me out on a date?”

“I won another bet Finn and I made so, he had to set us up.” Harry licks his lips and smirks. “You better finish everything on your plate sweetheart, I’ve been saving up my money since 5th grade for a date with a girl.”

It was around 6:30 PM as they walked alongside each other in front of the water. Harry couldn’t help but give his jacket to Claire since it was quite cold tonight. “You wanted to know more about me huh?” “Yeah.” Claire rolls her eyes at Harry’s statement. “Just forget about it-”

“My father passed away 5 years ago and we couldn’t pay for our house, so we moved to a smaller one. It’s where I live now. I have a stepfather so he’s been helping my mom now.” He glances at her and squeezes her cheek. “Don’t cry, Claire. I know it’s sad but that’s what life is.” Claire stops walking. For the first time in three years, she’s able to look him in the eyes without feeling nervous.

“I’m here for you.”

“I know.” He takes her hand and nods his head to the right to gesture they should walk again. “You know what’s funny? I ‘ve always known about you. I just never really spoke to you.”

“I know!” Claire laughs as she plays with the rose, bumping it on her face. “I used to watch you all the time and observe what stuff you wore and what you like to eat.” They stop walking in front of the boats.

“So, you were a stalker?” Harry laughs as her cheeks turn red. “Oh, stop acting shy. I like you too.”

“I never said I liked you!” Claire begins to walk again but Harry grabs onto her wrist to pull back.

“Well, I’m telling you… I like you, Claire Jameson.”

“I like you more, Harry Styles.” Harry’s eyes crinkle as he hears her response. He rubs her hair at the top of her head, before kissing her forehead.

“Alright, I won’t fight with you on that.

~ Five months later

“Hey, baby,” Harry smirks as he catches Claire into his arms. Football practice had just finished and Hary couldn’t wait to take his girlfriend home, especially with the heart eyes she’s been giving him since the whole thing started.

“Hi!” She hides her face in his T-shirt as she wears his hoodie.

“Gross!” A voice teases them, “ Styles you better have my sister home by 10.” Tom walks with their other teammates out of the change room. Harry just nods as he takes his girl’s hand.

They walked together towards the tree at the end of the field. The sun was setting as mixtures of purple and pink covered the sky. Claire sat down as Harry laid his head on her lap.

“I have a question.” She asks her boyfriend as she plays with his soft brown curls.

“Mhm.” He closes his eyes and rubs his face on her stomach.

“Would you rather date me or the most beautiful girl in the world?” Harry just rolls his eyes and sits up.

“The most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Harr, that was supposed to be a trick question.” Harry leans in to leave kisses all over her face.

“You are. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.” He kisses her and smiles, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles fanfic #harry styles imagines #harrystyles oneshots #one direction #one direction one shots #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #frat boy!harry #highschool! au #harrystylesfluff

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

To Tell You The Truth Part Four

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: I promise I'm not doing this on purpose...I'll see you guys on Monday. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains vivid depictions of gore and minor allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

"Well, there's our ride." Ezra observed, sounding relieved. You didn't blame him. The two of you had pushed yourselves hard to get to the camp with enough time to spare for harvesting after your short rest. Night had slowly fallen as you moved, so it had been a blessing to see the large fire from the mercenaries' camp.

"Let's go then, c'mon." You murmured, striding forward. A hand on your sleeve stopped you in your tracks, and you turned back to give him a look of confusion.

His eyes had gone wide, deep brown reflecting the greenish-yellow gleam of the fire. "Damon spoke of Karolclan mercs. He conveniently forgot to mention that they were the Karolclan mercs. The only ones that fucking matter." Ezra hissed, "That's fuckin' Mikken's crew, gentle soul, or I will eat my haul."

You hadn't actually been concerned about the mercenaries until Ezra resorted to dropping 'fucking' every other word. He hadn't cursed this much when you had taken a chunk out of his arm.

"Martyr's malfeasance, we are in the shit." He continued, sounding panicky. "See that woman? Inumon, the fuckin' Krebine defector. The fabled blood-soaked bloodhound from that whole mess with the Second Illumination."

Your stomach knotted nervously despite not even knowing who (or what) the Second Illumination was. "I...maybe I should go in alone?" You suggested. Ezra fixed you with an incredulous look, those heavy brows drawn tight enough to carve furrows in his forehead. "Look, I'm...I'm not threatening, right? If I go in first..."

"You wander into that camp of Fringeling mercs, raw at the end of tour--" He stopped, shaking his head grimly. "Gentle soul, the outcome of that particular negotiation technique has less and less favor as the seconds pass."

You swallowed hard. "They might be more willing to accept our terms if I...if I offer them something first. Damon said I-" You closed your eyes, not wanting to repeat what Damon had said about you and your potential bodily bargaining capabilities. "M-Maybe I could-"

"Damon is dead for a reason, gentle soul. And if that man did anythin' to you regarding something like that, he deserved every slug Number Two and myself placed in his churlish, thieving junkie guts." Ezra snarled. "Did he-?"

"I told you not to ask." You reminded him in a whisper. His fury made you feel warmer even as your stomach dropped out.

"That...you did." He allowed reluctantly. "I apologize. Intrigue will always be the death of my good sense." He pulled himself up a bit, squaring his shoulders. "All the same, no. I am not throwin' you into that lions den alone. You are no Daniel, gentle soul. Stay clear and close and I'll talk us through." Ezra bumped his helmet against your own, his tone serious. "When it comes time to dig, I'll need you sharp. I've never harvested one-handed before. I'm gonna' need some help. But we'll keep it creamy, and it'll all be fine." He assured you with a wan smile.

You did your best to smile back, but you were certain it looked more like a wince. Ezra gripped your arm tight, almost like a hug.

"Alright, gentle soul. Deep breaths."

…

The fabled Mikken's reception was...less than warm. As Ezra haggled carefully with him, all easy smiles, bowing and scraping, you watched the man's second in command slink closer in the light of the fire. Something about her eyes set off warning bells in your head; now this was a Krebine. She had the lethal grace, the jammer belt, and on her flank hung a red canvas square with a faded, complex insignia.

Inumon, Ezra had said. It sounded almost like inhuman.

You weren't particularly surprised when she lunged at you, but that didn't stop you from being scared stiff. Your back hit the ground hard and you felt her body press down on you, the square angles of her helmet skidding against the round dome of your own. Her eyes flicked back and forth, like she was waiting for you to start struggling. Prey, that was all you were to her.

"Inumon here has been lookin' for a way out since touchdown." Mikken remarked calmly to Ezra. "I'd reckon you'd best jump to it if you're tryin' to keep your pay...and your partner."

Inumon was muttering under her breath in Vayok, those eyes watching you as she palmed roughly over the front of your helmet. You didn't make a sound. You weren't sure if you even could have at that point, her weight concentrated on your abdomen all but cutting off your ability to breathe.

Ezra crouched next to your head, his knee rubbing your shoulder as he fixed Inumon with a fierce gaze through his helmet. "I am the gatekeeper to more wealth than any of us have ever seen." Gone was his easy smile, his words as strategically aimed as thrower shots. "And you've been wastin' in the Green for far too long to let that slip away."

Inumon slid Ezra's confiscated pistol beneath your chin. You cringed, giving Ezra a panicky look.

The prospector seemed unaffected by Inumon's threat, the knee pointedly digging into your shoulder the only indicator that he took note of your fright. "I'm afraid I am the only means to the successful end of your venture." He tipped his eyes up to Mikken. "And I say the terms have changed." Ezra rose to his full height once more, his voice firm. "Thirteen points, plus a ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft, or no deal. Find a way."

Inumon ground her helmet down against your own and you could feel the thrower pressing up into your gorget gasket. The chiclet of Brism popped free from its tape, landing somewhere behind your head inside your helmet. The side of Ezra's boot rested against your arm and you closed your eyes, attempting to center yourself with the steady pressure.

"Now, I do not intend to breach my station," Spoke up one of the other mercenaries, his voice humming mechanically. "But perhaps the secondary hydrogen four offers a viable solution to this stalemate." He hesitated, then continued, "one that will keep us all in pay."

"My boy, this is a winner." Ezra agreed, his genial smile back. "I think a little backup thrust is an easy drop under the circumstances. What do you say, boss?"

Mikken waited for what felt like an eternity before growling out, "Fine."

Inumon jerked away from you at the sound of his agreement, spitting more Vayok. It was clear that she was dissatisfied with this arrangement, and she made that lack of satisfaction abundantly clear when she grabbed hold of Ezra's filter and switched it off.

The man began to choke almost immediately, coughing and struggling for breath while Inumon just stared at him impassively through her helmet. You inched your hand towards her ankle. If you pulled, she would at the very least be knocked off balance; she would probably let go of Ezra's filter and then-

Mikken suddenly spoke up in Vayok, barking some sort of order, and Inumon reluctantly released the switch. She hissed something at Ezra that made his back go rigid even as he gulped air, the prospector glaring at her venomously before he seemed to be able to stop himself.

"Well…" he drawled, his tone dripping with forced joviality as he reached down to help you up from the ground, "gentlemen...and women, let's get rich." Acting like he was assisting you in dusting yourself off, he pressed the side of his helmet to yours and muttered, "too close, sorry about that. Glad you would have helped though." Obviously he had noticed your intent to go after her ankle.

You gripped his good arm tightly, nodding as you kneaded at the exosuit sleeve. You didn't trust your voice, certain that if you opened your mouth you would start crying and wouldn't be able to stop.

Ezra patted the back of your helmet and then pulled away. "Ready to dig?" He asked brightly.

...

It was indeed the Queen's Lair, or as close to it as reality could get. Rows upon rows of small mounds dotted the shallow crater, each one promising aurelac pearls that dwarfed whatever you had harvested previously.

Ezra was as giddy as a child, his exhaustion forgotten as he scampered around the dig site examining everything while you prepared the diffuser and the fazer squeeze bottle.

One of the hummocks had been pierced, the blood spattered around it serving as a clear indicator of the excavationary skill Mikken's crew possessed. "Somebody already gave her a go?" Ezra queried curiously, tugging free the knife that was still embedded in the hummock.

"We found it diggin' for tie-downs." Mikken tilted his head back towards the fire, indicating the mercenary in the red exosuit. The empty left sleeve of his suit had been knotted and pinned at the shoulder. "Our boy dove in fist first, and it ate his arm."

Ezra shook his head, ruefully drawling, "That's the price of a dry breach." He seemed a touch too self-assured when he continued, "but my chem will calm the brine." He began using the knife to test the area, carefully tapping the hilt against the hummocks.

It was important to know how filled with brine each mound was, as the prudent prospector would begin with the least full and work their way up, nullifying and draining the brine as they went to reduce the potential risk. Of course, you had never seen a cluster of this particular magnitude. You were uncertain if there was even a way to safely 'runoff' the no-doubt copious amounts of brine, but you were game to try if Ezra was.

"Hello, sweetheart." Ezra crooned as a hollow noise rang out from beneath the knife's questing grip. The older man flipped the knife around and stabbed into the mounded earth, slicing it open gingerly. He was solely using his left hand, the right hanging limp at his side.

You pressed the square container of diffuser into his hand when he gestured you over, and you could feel him shaking. Whether from excitement or weariness, you couldn't say.

"You got the cocktail mixed, gentle soul?" He asked idly as steam issued from the hole, the nuller working its magic to render the gear-dissolving brine impotent.

"Of course." You replied, all business. This was what you knew how to do. "Are we pulling them all and then de-blistering and fazing, or are we fazing as we go?"

Ezra hummed contemplatively, working his jaw. "I'd say a bit of both." He murmured. "Lest our gracious hosts grow impatient with us." He cocked his head surreptitiously over at Mikken, who was looking back towards the campfire. "We'll pull a few, faze, rinse and repeat."

"How's your hand?" You asked softly.

"It is...not suited for delicate work." Ezra grimaced. "I can feel it again and it is not festerin', mind you, but I know better than to try and use it for anythin' important."

You nodded. "I'll handle the skinning, then."

The two of you worked nearly in silence for a time. You constantly checked your watch, the red indicators at the top blinking to warn you that the second cycle had long since shifted into the third.

Ezra was slow, almost too slow. The minutes between pulls seemed to be stretching longer and longer as he struggled along left-handed to extract the aurelac sacks, and you noticed Mikken beginning to get antsy.

"Want to swap?" You offered, climbing down into the crater. "Skin a few, rest."

"No, n-no no, I'm fine." Ezra waved you off with that easy grin, but his eyes were grave. "I would not be of any particular use for the de-blisterin', my hands...I'm not up to snuff, gentle soul." He sighed. "This is the more prudent option. I am simply weary due to our forced march, you can sympathize."

"Is there a problem?" Mikken asked, his thrower rifle whining as he primed it.

"We're just discussing a switch, maybe taking a short break." You squeaked before Ezra could pipe up.

Mikken shook his head. "No breaks. You work through to the end or you don't get on the rock jumper. Simple as that." The thrower remained primed, aimed lazily to the side of you.

"Indeed." Ezra replied dryly. "We'll get back to it then." His hand caught your own and he squeezed it, whispering, "I will endure, gentle soul. I have no choice. Salvation beckons."

The hours dragged by, that mercenary with the voice modulator (who apparently went by Jack) wandering over every now and then to collect the extracted pearls and package them up. Your neck and back ached, fingers cramping from how tightly you had to hold the scalpel. But if you wavered you would puncture the blisters of carrom acid that protected the aurelac, ruining the pearls beyond any hope of salvage.

Ezra's breathing was dissolving into hacking coughs yet again. His battered filter had clearly given out. You rose from your spot beside the crater and nearly toppled in, pins and needles flooding your body.

Mikken leveled the thrower at you and you raised your hands. "I-I'm just going to tether to him! If he can't breathe, he can't harvest." You reasoned frantically, tapping your tether tube and then gesturing down at the wheezing man. "We have enough length that he can still work, I promise. I can always move closer."

Mikken muttered something under his breath, but lowered the gun.

You stumbled into the pit, moving as fast as your half-sleeping limbs would allow. Ezra didn't even seem to notice your presence until the tube had been hooked up for several seconds, the man starting violently and stepping back from you. "Martyr's malfeasance gentle soul, don't creep up on a man unawares." He said blearily. "Liable to get perforated."

You scooped the large knife off the ground where he had dropped it and gave him a gentle nudge towards the lip of the crater. "I know you don't trust yourself to faze right now, but I'm sure you can at least skin a few. Hop out. I'll extract."

"Gentle soul, I-" Ezra shook his head, extending his left hand to you. His whole arm was trembling and jerking wildly, muscles in spasm from the prolonged toil. "I can assure you that is a poor choice." He said through gritted teeth.

"You need to rest." You insisted.

"No, I need to get the fuck off this pestilence-ridden Nessus before I lose the last tenuous fragments of my sanity!" He snapped, raising his voice in frustration. You cringed at his volume and Ezra swore again, closing his eyes tightly and taking several deep breaths. "I-I apologize, gentle soul, it's not you that I'm-"

"Hey." Mikken said sharply. "You're here to dig, not have a damn conversation."

"And how much longer do you expect us to do so, praytell?" Ezra queried angrily, attempting to pull himself up out of the shallow crater. "The shadows are growin' heavy. We were hardly a dose away from the freighter pass when we arrived, and it has been--"

Mikken interrupted him with a shrug. "Don't take more than five minutes to prime the jumper for takeoff. And Jack's been loadin' as you harvest, floater." He spat the term like a curse.

You could pinpoint the exact moment where Ezra entirely lost his composure, the prospector seizing your scalpel and wordlessly sawing it into Mikken's heel. The mercenary toppled into the pit, his thrower going off as he did. Hideously silent aside from his struggling breathing, Ezra caught the back of the man's neck and forced his entire head into one of the many open wounds on the Queen. The brine hissed and sizzled as Mikken thrashed, then everything was still.

You stared at Ezra, who was staring down at the still-twitching body at his feet. "The...the shot will bring the rest of 'em in." He choked out. "Don't say anythin'. I'll do my best to salvage this, alright?"

You nodded dumbly, setting the knife back down on the ground and instead grabbing the small squeeze bottle of fazer. If worse came to worst, you at least knew you could use the fazer as a distraction.

Ezra launched into a string of profanities under his breath, each one more creative than the last. The man was clearly furious with himself for losing his grip on his temper, but you could hardly blame him. Floater.

You heard the distant clatter of gear approaching, catching sight of Inumon and Jack storming past the campfire. Your heart leaped into your throat as the mercenaries clustered around the crater, throwers aimed at you and Ezra.

"Greedy fool!" Ezra announced, his smooth grin back on his face. "Couldn't help himself. Took a stumble gettin' a closer look." He gestured down at Mikken's remains. "Now, time presses! And I am going to need assistance if we are to-"

Whatever he would have said was drowned out by the deafening music and static from Inumon's jammer belt, the woman circling the pit as the sound overrode the transmission from Ezra's helmet com. Your ears rang at the sudden auditory assault, making you shake your head in a vain attempt to dislodge the noise.

Inumon knelt at the edge of the excavation, her eyes trailing down the length of Mikken's body. You clutched the bottle of fazer tightly and, as you heard the primer on her gun shriek to life, you yanked Ezra's arm and pitched the fazer into the nearest open mound. Ezra grabbed hold of you, pinning you to the side of the pit and shielding you with the bulk of his suit.

The resulting chemical reaction rocked the ground and kicked up a massive cloud of dust. Ezra snatched Mikken's gun, cradling it in the crook of his bad arm and then grasping your hand to all but fling you in front of him. A thrower shot whizzed past your helmet and Ezra shouted, "go, go!"

His heavy boots thundered on the ground behind you as the two of you fled into the surrounding woodland. The prospector jerked you down into a bush and you heard the thrower prime as he checked the ammunition.

"Fuck, how fortuitous." Ezra groaned, "best hope they come in singles."

As if in response to his comment, that merc named Jack emerged from the dust cloud, yelling, "over here!" when he caught sight of your headlamps. His shot went wide, but Ezra's didn't.

The older man jettisoned the empty thrower as Inumon came careening forward over Jack's body, her shots not nearly as haphazard as Jack's. Half-blind, you and Ezra ran through the woods while she pursued.

You finally skidded to a stop behind a large tree, gasping for breath and turning off your headlamp. Ezra began fumbling, like he was looking for something. You heard the whining buzz of the scalpel.

He suddenly said, "If we uncouple, you can run a distraction, opening me up for the backstab." You nodded quickly, already trying to undo the tube. Ezra grabbed your hand, halting you. "Are you sure?" He rasped, the concern in his tone causing your eyes to tear up momentarily. "I know that you are-"

The jamming signal blared through your coms again, making Ezra flinch and stiffen in pain at the ear-shattering volume. You, on the other hand, ripped yourself free and slammed your fingers down on your comm-box, killing the radio in your helmet. You then reached over and muted his channels as well, effectively nullifying the blaring jamming. Ezra seemed to stagger at the silence, grabbing onto the tree to steady himself before he turned back to you.

"I can do it!" You assured him, yelling so he could hear you through your helmet. Without the aid of your com, you had to resort to analog measures. "I can do it."

He looked torn for a moment, then leaned down to shove his helmet against yours. "You run fast, and you don't stop. You keep plenty of trees between you and her. You come straight back here as soon as I make the kill, so we can recouple. Clear?" He demanded, his own voice raised. His eyes met yours fiercely and you nodded, letting him know that you got the message. You switched your filter over into his purifier hurriedly before he could protest or stop you, and then you uncoupled from the tether.

You sprinted off, keeping low as you watched Inumon's headlamps advance through the trees. A shot rang out, but she wasn't aiming at you. It sounded like she was headed for Ezra.

No time like the present, you decided, and you quickly threw your head forward to locate the lone piece of Brism. A few shakes later and the gum tumbled against your clear dome for you to scoop up with your tongue. The second the smooth coating hit your mouth it was like something exploded behind your eyes. Chewing furiously, you felt energy surge through your body. Despite your weariness, your dwindling oxygen and your fear, the woods around you flared to new and vibrant life. And through it all strode Inumon, her attention focused wholly on where she thought Ezra was.

You bolted forward, keeping the trees between yourself and her for as long as possible, letting her get as close to Ezra as you dared before you finally lunged at her. The clumsy scuffle of your boots in the thick underbrush obviously alerted the woman to your presence, too late to change course now though. Her body swung around to face you as you charged in.

You hadn't realized she had a bayonet on her thrower. The deadly blade pierced your stomach, your own headlong motion aiding the plunge. The Brism cranked the pain bright, sensations dulled and heightened at the same time. You shakily dropped your hands to the barrel of the rifle, about to try and push yourself backwards off the bayonet, but then…

Inumon started cackling at you, more Vayok words you didn't understand laced in with her scornful laughter. It was plain to see that she was mocking you though, mocking your pitiful attempt at stopping her. She probably thought you were useless, a useless little floater--

You're a floater, who the fuck would even care?

The fledgling pride in your timid belly roared to life like a bonfire at her taunting and you leaned into it with every ounce of the Brism burst, slamming your helmet against hers with enough force to stagger the both of you. You didn't recognize your own voice when you screamed, "don't you fucking laugh at me, bitch!" Blood and saliva spattered on the inside of your dome and you gritted your teeth, continuing to bear down on her head with your helmet.

Her eyes went wide like you had startled her, and she began fighting to free up her thrower from your abdomen. You snapped one arm beneath the barrel, the other above it like you had done a hundred times before to get the rifle away from Damon and you managed to jerk it out of her grip with the superior leverage of the bayonet, staggering back a step.

Ezra loomed out of the darkness behind Inumon as the two of you struggled, the man brandishing the laughably-small scalpel with deadly intent. The blade stabbed into the gasket on Inumon's helmet, whirring wildly through the rubber gorget and then piercing the skin beneath it.

Her maniac gaze landed on your face inches from her own and she shrieked, clawing frantically at your suit and then at Ezra as he punched the knife home again and again.

You took another step back, sinking to your knees as you tried to maintain your hold on the gun so it didn't end up doing even more damage...

The next thing you knew, you were being eased back against a tree trunk. Ezra was fumbling with your suit, trying to retether the two of you and working around the thrower.

You pawed weakly at his arm and he jolted, staring wide-eyed through his helmet. "Go." You rasped, shoving the tube back into his violently-trembling hands. "Go…" His jaw worked and he turned his head away, seemingly to look at Inumon's body. Then back at you. "Leave, dammit!" You spat, slamming your fist into his good arm. "Don't let--all of this be f-for nothing!"

That appeared to do the trick. Ezra staggered to his feet, grabbed his confiscated pistol from Inumon's corpse and took off towards the fire of the dig site without so much as a goodbye.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your vision blurred, your body working harder and harder to pull what little oxygen it could from the air left circulating in your suit. Now that the Brism burst had faded you could feel every inch of the bayonet, and each quivering, shallow breath served as a painful reminder that you hadn't died just yet. Inumon's headlamps were all but blinding, exploding starry across your eyesight every time you blinked back the tears.

You had always assumed, somewhere, deep down, that you would die alone. Being a floater, you had been alone for the majority of your life, and after enduring Damon's noisome company, you had hoped to be solitary for the rest of your days. As you watched Ezra's form dissolve into the haze of your tears, however, you couldn't help but wish that, just this once, you didn't have to be alone.

Part Five

#ezra (prospect 2018)#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect imagine #eventual romance #slow burn #Forgive Me #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #SPACE #canon-typical violence

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marcholasmoth · 3 years

Text

OSRR: 2318

so today was kind of an important day for me. it didn't start out that way, but it wound up being probably one of the most important days of my life. maybe ever.

let's get to it.

i didn't get much sleep last night. (1) i just don't sleep well, (2) it takes forever for me to get comfy, and (3) i was up talking to the disaster group chat, trying to convince them to sleep. it was fine.

i got up on time though, and because i already scheduled the appointment in zoom, all i needed to do was click on the pop up to start the call, and i was able to work with my student for an hour and a half. she was definitely getting it by the time we were done working. i'm pretty proud of her.

after that, i popped in to my multidimensional calculus class's zoom meeting to talk with my professor. we chatted for about half an hour about things in general, about how my work is progressing, about how i'm doing in my other classes, school-related things and otherwise. it was nice to talk to her. she's fun.

around 1, i went downstairs and saw my parents for a few minutes before returning to my room where i was set up. i had eaten some food, and i grabbed my salad from the other day and i retired to my room to eat and work on math.

as i was working, i got a call from christine! my appointment was scheduled for today, of course, and i remembered that as i saw the caller ID say "no name." so christine and i talked for an hour or so. i told her about my empty days, and she suggested paying attention to if that happens again and what my stressors might be. i told her about thanksgiving and my anxiety that i always get. i told her about my schoolwork progress. i figured out that i was honestly pretty impressed by myself. while we expected my brain to boot up like it usually does toward the end of the semester, i'm still proud of the fact that i was able to do about two months worth of high-level math in eight days. she was proud of me too. as we continued talking, i brought up a few things that i had heard in the past - how a student once recommended me as a chemistry tutor to her whole class, about how our program director said they get the most compliments and praise about me. and it kinda hit me then, combining with this morning's successful tutoring session, that it was nice to be able to do something that helps someone and to know that the things i do matter to other people. i also brought up the lady from last week at the pottery place, who last week said "someone over there has a lovely singing voice" as i sang along to the radio. and i realized it was satisfying when other people enjoyed what i was doing, when i was doing something because i wanted to. so much of my life, i mentioned, has been some facet of "give everything to others," and i realized that i didn't owe anybody anything. i don't have to do anything i don't want to. i don't need to give in to other peoples demands, just because they want me to do something. and that sort of realization that you have control over what you do and the fact that you don't have to do something just because someone else wants you to do it, that's liberating. freeing. i leaned back in my desk chair and smiled up at the ceiling, bright and wide as i realized i don't live for other people. i live for me. and that's how we left my session today.

but that wasn't the only breakthrough from today.

later, after i had showered and then gotten dressed and worked on more math after determining it was difficult to focus on a problem while trying to hold up my towel (i just wanted to do math, okay? i was excited), i wanted to put my hair up and put my earrings on so when we went out to paint this evening i felt put together. so i went into the bathroom and i put in the effort to smooth out the bumps in my hair, so put in my earrings, to adjust my shirt.

and as i looked at myself in the mirror, i saw something i had never seen before:

someone who was confident. kind. smart. caring. pretty?? appreciated. not just appreciative, but also appreciated.

i saw myself. happy.

i looked in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, i saw something that i liked. loved, even.

i looked in that mirror, and for the first time in my life, i saw someone who deserved good things. who did good things. who is good things.

and that shattered my world.

tears immediately sprung to my eyes, and as i sobbed, i looked back at myself - that's me in the mirror, i realized - and i waved. i choked out a bright "hi" as tears continued to freckle my glasses, to stream down my cheeks that were pulled up in the brightest, biggest, most genuine smile i've ever directed at myself before.

the person i saw in the mirror was deserving of love and of good things, was kind and good and despite their shortcomings, was still worthy. and that made me cry some more.

when i returned to my room, i sat down to work on more math, but was interrupted by my momma, who came upstairs to check on me.

i told her all of my breakthroughs, about my successes for the day, and she said to me this: "i don't know what switch flipped, but you finally see what i see in you." and it didn't hurt. it didn't aim to break, or berate, or belittle. i saw it for the kind words it was: support. i saw them and i appreciated them, but i didn't need to rely on them. that was new. because of my constant and unyielding lack of self-esteem throughout my life, i've relied on the praise and comfort from others to keep myself together, to believe in myself because others believed in me.

but today?

i believed in myself.

and i think i began to believe in myself, too.

after another long hug from my mom, who spat angrily at the school that fucked me up, and after i mentioned my brain was likely fucked long before that, i went to go see lisa and casey to paint.

i didn't paint another mug, but i did get to pick up renee's mugs. and they look amazing!! (i'm so excited to give them to her. i think her gift is my favorite one i'm giving this year.) i painted a bowl today! i started with the idea of doing a midnight blue and a tangerine orange because that's joel's favorite color combination, but then i grabbed yellow because why not, and i found myself back at the table, at a total loss for how to paint my bowl. the past month and a half or so i've been painting, i've been using almost exclusively black and white because of the unus annus mugs i've done, so sitting down without black and white felt wrong! so i got back up and grabbed the black and the white and i sat back down. i laughed at that. i painted the inside yellow, and after lots of contemplation, i painted the outside black. i grabbed some writing bottles, and i made a swirly pattern on the black outside with the white, adding in dots where the joints were, either in white or yellow. i realized i hadn't done a design like my Classic Swirls, so i did that today. my hands shake a lot, so i'm okay that the swirls aren't perfect smooth. they never will be, and i'm okay with that. (radical self-acceptance?? what is this???) but i made the swirls on the outside, and did a small flower of dots on the inside in black and white. this left the edge - a mostly painted but incomplete ridge at the top of the bowl. i didn't want to paint it all black, as i'd have to touch it up and wait for a while, and i didn't want to paint it yellow because i'd have to remove a lot of black and clean off the edge and i didn't want that. so i took my white writer bottle and made dots along the center of the ridge all the way around, and then put black dots in between them. they ended up merging in a black and white snake that vaguely reminds me of dao's beetlejuice overalls, but it worked really well with it. i accidentally hit the wet edge a few times. the first wound up looking cool, but it wasn't uniform anymore so it bothered me. then it turned out i just made it worse. when i finally fixed it, we were getting ready to leave, and the strap of my backpack pulled at the same spot i had just redone and took off some paint and smeared the rest! the agony!!! so i just did it again. i also got the glaze off my backpack, too, so there's nothing wrong. the bowl's edge looks a teensy bit off, but i'm not perfect, so neither is my bowl. and that's okay. my hands shake, i knock things over, i'm indecisive. but that's okay! i'm not perfect, and i don't need to be. who i am is enough.

after we painted, we got dinner together, sitting at a secluded applebee's booth at 9pm on a tuesday. i ate super fast because i was apparently very hungry. we sat and talked a little bit, and it was nice to just sit without needing to focus on trying to keep my hands from shaking at very fine motor skills.

i listened to christmas music on my way home, and upon arrival, i made my way upstairs to finish up my math homework - the last two problems for today's section. i also rewrote my to-do list, which is more of a "what's left" list, as all of the remaining bits of homework are on it with due dates and stuff. at the top there's a few boxes with the dates in them from now to the last day of the semester, so i can keep track of things that way, too. i just needed my list to be clean.

i talked some more to the group chat, my beautiful disaster children with whom i shared my mirror breakthrough, and i helped one of them with some chemistry homework. chem is tough, but once you have someone explain it in a way that begins to make sense, everything else will click and fall into place. kind of like my math homework! which is honestly pretty easy, and that's something i'm grateful for. it takes concentration and focus, but it's easy to do if you're invested.

and for perhaps not the last time today, i am once again impressed with my brain's capacity to cram. but it's really not cramming - it's just learning a lot in a short period of time, but not intending to forget it. which is cool, to know that i can do it, but it's frustrating that i have to know that i can do it like that. if there's one thing i wish i could do about one thing, it would be that i could keep up with due dates in all of my classes instead of waiting until the end of the semester to get everything done at once.

but yeah. today was a really wonderful day.

and even better: i made sure joel and i will actually get to spend time together tomorrow because i'll have my homework done and he doesn't have anything scheduled, so i will actually get to spend time with him tomorrow! i'm so happy!

😊

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2300s #sunshine boy #today was good #today was very good #christine is an angel #therapy is for everyone #loving yourself is cool #even if it takes you twenty eight years to start on the path to it #your own time is as good as any #take your time #you deserve the good things in the world #you are good #you are good enough #you are going to be okay #🧡

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 2: You Can Run Around Infinite In My Head]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make.

Potentially a better love story than Twilight (we’ll let @killer-queen-xo decide when it’s all said and done 😉).

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Rome by Dermot Kennedy.

Chapter Warnings: Language, mentions of violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Missing In Action

I wish she would stop staring at me.

Lucille sat at the Lees’ usual table and apathetically picked through a heaping salad. (Friday was salad bar day, which I appreciated considerably more than the chicken finger obsession that marred Mondays at Calawah University.) Every once in a while, Rami nudged her and Lucille would spear a cherry tomato with her fork and bite it in half with perfectly even, white teeth. But her large blue-green eyes—they reminded me of webs of seaweed tumbling in the cold, frothing La Push waves—always found their way back to me, strangely focused, inquisitive, perhaps accusatory.

Ben probably told them how much he hates me for whatever nebulous reason and now they all hate me too and I’m going to spend the next two years being death-glared by five ridiculously attractive and somewhat incestuous foster kids.

Chemistry was a three times a week class. Ben hadn’t shown on Wednesday, and I was 99% sure he would skip again today. I spotted him around campus periodically, always from a distance: dropping quarters into a vending machine, clandestinely vaping behind dorm buildings (what self-respecting pre-med student VAPES?!!), browsing YouTube videos in the library next to a tower of unopened textbooks, biology and chem and physics and calculus. He wasn’t home, he wasn’t sick; there was no attempt made to construct any sort of pretext. He was patently avoiding me.

I stabbed moodily at the serrated disks of cucumber in my salad. Jessica was blathering away about the latest season of The Bachelor and ranking the contestants’ eyebrows from best to worst. “...Like seriously, has she never heard of microblading?!”

“For real,” Angela offered, not especially invested but forever a good sport.

Lucille’s eyes settled on me again as she sipped a cup of steaming tea, staring until her forehead crinkled with the effort, staring hard, almost leering.

“What’s her problem?” I muttered.

Jessica shot a glance towards the Lee table and slurped her Sprite. The great mystery surrounding her potential Mormon-ness persisted. “Who? Lucy?”

Only Lucille’s friends called her Lucy. Jessica, a shameless aspiring socialite, presumed she was everybody’s friend unless they explicitly informed her otherwise, which of course no one ever did.

“Yeah,” I answered glumly.

“Maybe it’s your dress.”

“My dress? What’s wrong with my dress?”

Jessica wrinkled her nose and surveyed me as if I were a bug, and not a cute bug like a roly-poly bug or The Very Hungry Caterpillar or whatever. Like a really hideous bug. Like one of those spider-cricket hybrid things that hopped straight out of a hell dimension and into the dark, drippy corners of your basement. “It’s, like, very 1960s. But not in a sexy Woodstock way. In a ‘I’m about to join a hippie murder cult’ way.”

“I got it at TJ Maxx. It was on sale.”

Jessica snorted. “Probably for a reason.”

“That’s it. I’m giving all the hippies in my new murder cult your address.”

She and Angela laughed. Mike and Eric, the missing pieces of our daily lunch puzzle, were preoccupied with a campus protest to convert fried fish day (Thursdays) into tacos day. I sympathized with their efforts, but didn’t feel that my one-week tenure as a Calawah University student gave me much right to go around overhauling the dining hall schedule.

“I doubt she’s actually offended by a dress,” Angela said, nibbling on French fries that shed grains of salt like snowflakes.

Jessica sighed dreamily. “But Lucy’s just so fashionable...and that accent...” She drifted off into some daydream which began—I could only assume—with Lucy’s invitation to go shopping together and concluded with marrying Ben on some lush tropical island in the South Pacific.

Lucille was definitely fashionable, especially today: short black dress with sheer sleeves that ran to her fragile wrists, black polka dot tights, black heeled oxfords, dangling ruby earrings like beads of blood. She would have blended in perfectly at Paris Fashion Week. Rami was wearing a cardigan and khakis, per usual; Joe was in dark fitted jeans and a roomy U Chicago hoodie despite the fact that Forks was at minimum a thirty-four hour drive from the Windy City. What did Angela say his major was? Finance? No, Mathematical Economics. So he’s probably aiming at Chicago for an MBA or Econ PhD someday. Angela had told me that Joe was wicked smart. He better be if he’s entertaining fantasies of grad school at the University of Chicago.

Scarlett had come straight from Fencing Club and was wearing bright pink yoga pants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut out, sprinkling Hot Cheetos into her open mouth, her blonde hair secured in a tight French braid. You know those girls who are so irrationally, gluttonously, unfairly beautiful that it doesn’t seem possible the genetic lottery could spit out so many winning numbers at once, and you comfort yourself with the certainty that there must be some set of circumstances that would level the playing field—I bet she looks like anyone else without all that makeup, she just has a really good sense of style and knows how to maximize her assets, there are definitely some goofy oversized ears hiding beneath that hair and that’s why she always wears it down—and then one day you run into them wearing sweatpants and a ponytail in the tampon aisle at Walmart and they’re still so perfect it stings you, baffles you, makes you feel like there must have been some divergence in the evolutionary chain because there’s no freaking way you’re the same species? Yeah, Scarlett was one of those girls. Scarlett was the queen of those girls.

Ben was conspicuously absent from the table.

Scarlett’s pink leopard-print iPhone rang and she answered. “Hello?” She turned to Joe. “Dad says you left your phone at home. Do you need it?”

Joe was gnawing his way through his third slice of pepperoni pizza. “No, I’m good, thanks though.”

Scarlett relayed the message. “Dad says he’s going to bring it by just in case.”

“Oh my god, ScarJo, I’m fine! Tell him not to!”

“Dad says he doesn’t trust you and he’s going to be here in fifteen minutes. He’s also bringing the Game Theory homework you left by the hot tub.”

Joe groaned and rolled his lively dark eyes as Rami grinned at him; Lucille was still watching me and entirely oblivious.

“Isn’t it weird that Ben and Lucille have accents?” I asked Jessica. “That they’re from the U.K.? I didn’t think fostering kids was an international thing.”

“It’s not that weird. Dr. Lee is British too. Maybe there’s some kind of exchange system, I don’t know. But you know what I do know?”

“What?” Now my interest was piqued.

She smiled. “That the British accents are hot.”

“Ugh,” I exhaled involuntarily.

“Please get a hobby,” Angela begged Jessica. “Start a YouTube channel. Make care packages for orphans. Grow marijuana. Adopt a cat. I have a shift at the animal shelter this Sunday morning, you want to come with me?”

“Sorry, can’t. I have a temple thing.”

Temple on Sunday. The mystery is solved. She’s a Mormon for sure. I mentally resolved not to let her set me up with anyone unless I was still single on Valentine’s Day. Which, obviously, assuming I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, I will be.

I gathered up my trash and slung my backpack over my shoulder. “Okay, well this has been a bizarre lunch to be completely honest, and now I have to go to Chemistry so I’ll see you later and hopefully we can brainstorm some more alternatives to Jessica’s current life trajectory on Monday. Because I am not looking forward to being a bridesmaid in these impending Lee nuptials.”

“Oh please!” Jessica lamented. “He doesn’t even know I exist. You, on the other hand...”

I scoffed. “Yeah, he wants to kill me. I truly have a gift.”

They waved as I left. I could feel Lucille’s eyes on me until I reached the door.

Sure enough, Ben wasn’t in Chemistry. I tried not to notice. I drew my atoms, wrote my equations, took my notes diligently and in my favorite sky blue ink. But I felt the emptiness in the chair next to me like a black hole, like an immense and dragging weight, like a snag in the fabric of all those interwoven strands of physics that orchestrate the universe like an immortal puppeteer. Why can’t I forget this guy? Why do I still feel like I’ve met him before?

Halfway through class, I hauled my emergency sweatshirt out of my backpack and pulled it on over my dress, floral and flowing and golden yellow like the sun, the sun that never shines here in Forks. I had liked it plenty under the florescent lights of the fitting room at TJ Maxx, and I had still liked it this morning; but Jessica’s words hummed around in my skull like wasps. The zipper of the sweatshirt was broken, but it accomplished the task of obscuring my dress well enough.

After Chemistry, I journeyed to the campus library to find a book I was supposed to read and present for a different class. I looked it up in the computer catalogue, spent an embarrassingly long time trying to figure out how the Dewey Decimal System works, eventually wound up finding the book on the highest floor of the library...and, to add a little extra peril to the mission, on the highest shelf. The book mocked me from its lofty, unattainable stronghold. The title was embossed in gold letters down the crimson spine. The Walruses And Me: A Transformative Experience. Idiotic title, I’m aware. It’s about some marine biologist who spent months alone in the Arctic studying the lifecycles of walruses. A noble pursuit, sure, but still a terrible title.

There wasn’t a chair or stepstool in sight. I tested my weight by stepping up onto the second-lowest shelf. The metal immediately squealed and shifted in protest. I retreated back down to the carpet, defeated by gravity. I scowled up at the book and sighed melodramatically. Ugh.

“Need something?”

I spun around to see Joe in his University of Chicago hoodie and pale flawless skin and intangible magnetism, that bewildering trademark Lee ethereality. I instinctively crossed my arms, clutching the sleeves of my sweatshirt, shrinking inwards like a startled armadillo in the Arizona desert.

“Are you, uh, anemic...?” he ventured.

“Oh no, I’m not cold. I’m just trying to hide my dress. My friend said it was too hippie-murder-cult 1960s.”

I figured he’d laugh, make a snide comment, maybe just blink in confusion. Instead, he glimpsed down at my dress—what could still be seen of it, anyway—and shook his head. “The neckline isn’t right for the 60s. And you seem like you’ve showered at least once in the past two weeks, so definitely not a hippie.”

I smiled, completely unexpectedly. “I didn’t realize Econ majors knew anything about leftist counterculture.”

“Disparaging it is our favorite pastime. Are you trying to get a book or are you just disrespecting university property for entertainment?”

I pointed. “The big red one.”

“The Walruses And Me...?”

“I know, it’s a horrible title. Not my personal preference. It’s for a class.”

“Bestiality 101?”

“Good guess. Marine Mammals.”

“Ahhh.” He glanced up and down the aisle, tapped his chin with agile fingers, pondered something I wasn’t privy to. “Turn around for a second.”

“What? Why?”

He waved his hand mysteriously in front of his grinning face. “It’s a magic trick. I’m going to make your problem disappear.”

“You can’t climb that,” I warned. “You’ll fall and break your neck. Or you’ll knock the whole shelf over and cause a tragic domino effect and the university will withhold your diploma until you pay them restitution.”

“I’m extremely athletic.”

“Are you sure?” I appraised him with exaggerated skepticism for comedic effect. “My dad refers to you only as the spindly annoying Lee.”

Oh my god, WHY did I say that?

Now he would definitely hate me. Now I’d have two mortal enemies on one campus. I mentally calculated how humiliating it would be to transfer to some Florida college, any Florida college, after only one week at Calawah. Hi mom, yeah I’m coming to live with you and Paul, a gang of hot pasty foster kids wants to slaughter me.

Instead, Joe threw back his head and cackled wildly. A librarian—mid-fifties, angry red hair from out of a box, fuzzy cat sweater—glared into the aisle and shushed him.

“Chief Swan...he actually...he calls me that? Really?!” Joe managed, wiping his leaking eyes. “That’s hilarious. I’m so glad my life is in his hands. Okay seriously, turn around.”

“Why would you help me?” I asked suspiciously.

“That’s just what I do. I’m a friendly guy.”

“This friendliness must not run in the family.”

Again, Joe’s cheerful demeanor didn’t falter. “You mean Ben? Forget about Ben, he hates everyone. Don’t take it personally.” Then he added: “Plus, as I’m sure you know, we’re not biologically related. No overlapping genetic material whatsoever. I didn’t get the male supermodel gene, he didn’t get the irresistibly charming gene, life’s not fair but the world keeps spinning.”

“It sure does,” I agreed softly. Unexpected wisdom from my new favorite Lee. I turned away from him. “Fine, I’m not looking, go ahead and dazzle me with your supernatural friendliness—”

“Done.”

“What?” I whirled around. Joe held The Walruses And Me in his hand. “How...did you...?!”

He passed me the book as I sputtered incoherently. “I told you. Magic trick.”

“I don’t....?!” I gawked up at the top shelf, at Joe, back to the top shelf. Sure enough, the space where The Walruses And Me once lived was now just a vacant slit in the row of dusty books. How could he have climbed up there that quickly? How could I not have heard anything? “The shelves didn’t even creak,” I murmured shakily.

“Yes, well, that’s due to my conveniently spindly physique.” Joe winked. “Any other problems I can help you solve at the moment, Baby Swan?”

“No. And don’t call me Baby Swan, or I’ll push this whole bookshelf over and tell the feisty librarian lady you did it.”

“That’s cold, ma’am.”

I liked that Joe didn’t make me feel like Ben did: unworthy, unloved, infuriating. Joe made me feel something else, something lighthearted, casual, buoyant; like the world didn’t have anything in it worth worrying about, regretting, agonizing over. Like unadulteratedly myself was all I ever needed to be.

I heard a muted buzz and Joe slid his iPhone out of his jeans pocket. Dr. Lee must have successfully delivered it. “Whoops, I forgot that Ordinary Differential Equations existed. Got to go. See ya.”

“Bye,” I replied. And then Joseph Lee was gone, very quickly, a little too quickly, the same way that Ben had vanished on that first afternoon after Chemistry.

Forks is weird. Calawah University is weird. And the Lee kids are super fucking weird.

Long Walks On The Beach

“Can I ask you a random question?”

“You just paid me $100 for an oil change that took fifteen minutes. You can ask me anything you want.” He grinned, flashing bright teeth and deep dimples.

It was Saturday afternoon. I had shoveled down a Chipotle veggie bowl as Archer changed the 1999 Accord’s oil in a small garage with a cracked concrete floor and the searing pungency of gasoline fumes thick in the air. He had apprenticed all through high school and rented his own shop after graduation. Archer now had a loyal clientele that encompassed virtually the entire Quileute reservation and a growing chunk of Forks...including Charlie and me, of course. Archer was the only child of Larry Foxchild—Charlie’s best friend since they worked together at Dairy Queen as teenagers—and the closest thing to a son my dad would ever have. I guess that made him like a brother to me, something that seemed intuitive now that I’d thought of it.

After the Accord was serviced we drove it down to La Push to walk on the beach, climb the salt-lashed rocks, toss pebbles into the roiling surf, reprise our childhood enthusiasm for poking dead washed-up marine creatures with shards of driftwood.

“Do you know anything about the Lees?” I asked Archer, investigating a deceased green shore crab.

His brow furrowed. He looked so serious like that, suddenly so much like Larry: the same tan skin, jet black hair, umbral eyes like oil wells, strong jaw overlaid with the stubbled shadow of a beard. We really aren’t kids anymore, are we? “The doctor and his kids?”

“Yeah. The foster kids. They’re really pale and strange and half of them are British.”

Archer chuckled. “I know who you mean. They’re hard to miss.”

“Are they...” Just eccentric rich people? Traumatized from abusive childhoods? Government experiments? CIA agents? Secret murderers? The image of Ben in that first Chemistry class came roaring back to me, including the adjective that had flashed red behind my eyes like an emergency exit sign: fierce. Finally, I decided: “Dangerous?”

Now Archer full-on laughed, gripping his belly, shaking his head. Drops of saltwater flew from his short hair. “Seriously?!” he exclaimed. “Come on, they’re freaks but they’re not, like...that kind of freaks.”

“Are you sure?” I was starting to feel better already. Of course they’re not actual demons, you fucking idiot. This is Washington, not The Twilight Zone or Black Mirror. Not goddamn American Horror Story.

“Yeah.” Archer skipped a grey pebble over the water, something I’d never been able to do. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know them all that well. They usually keep to themselves. But I’ve never heard anything bad about any of the kids. And everyone respects Dr. Lee and appreciates him for taking the pay cut to come to some bumblefuck town like Forks. He’s insanely highly credentialed, has degrees from Harvard or Yale or somewhere like that. Super impressive. We’re lucky to have him. I definitely sleep better at night knowing he’ll be the one to fix me up if I ever get a few fingers ripped off on the job.”

“Don’t even say that. Then who would I grossly overpay for oil changes?”

Archer smiled, then sobered as he peered out over the Pacific Ocean.

“What?” I asked, feeling a plummeting in my guts like primal fear.

“Well...okay, so there is one thing that’s always bothered me. You remember Grandpa Foxchild?”

“Yeah, of course.” He had been an impossibly ancient man with long grey braided hair, a low rumbly voice, gnarled arthritic hands, ceaseless wrinkles. I remembered Charlie calling me when he passed away last spring. Renee and I had picked out a flower arrangement to send to the funeral.

“So,” Archer said slowly, like he was still puzzling it out himself. “Grandpa used to say things like ‘That Dr. Lee has been around a long time.’ Which of course makes no sense, the Lees moved here like two years ago. And I’d tell Grandpa that, but he completely ignored me. He would just keep repeating it. ‘That Dr. Lee shouldn’t still be here.’ ‘That Dr. Lee should go on home to where he came from.’ ‘That Dr. Lee isn’t right.’ Creepy shit like that. My dad and I always assumed it was the dementia talking, but...I don’t know. It just bothered me. Because Grandpa...he wasn’t just being gossipy or suspicious. He was angry. And he was afraid. Grandpa was at Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima and he would talk about that no problem, mention landmines or flesh melting off a soldier’s face like it was nothing. He was a tough guy. Immeasurably tough, I’ll never be half the man he was. But if you mentioned the Lees, Grandpa got scared. Why the hell would he be so scared of them?”

I didn’t have an answer for him, not a single word. I just stared at Archer, my eyes growing huge, my heart sprinting, blood pounding in my ears. He knew. Grandpa Foxchild knew there was something off about them, and now I know it too. I don’t know how I know, but I do.

Archer tittered nervously. “Anyway, that was genuinely disturbing. But like I said. It was probably just the dementia.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“It had to be,” he insisted. “There’s no other logical explanation.”

“I guess,” I agreed, scooping up the green shore crab corpse with my bare hands. I hurled it out into the waves, imagined it sinking through murky water and suspended grains of sand, the body settling into prehistoric silt, the scavengers descending upon it, the inescapable wheel of birth and death and resurrection through those who unwittingly carry our atoms with them into the next generation, into the perpetual future.

That night my dreams were full of pale skin and scorching eyes, Ben and Joe and Rami, Lucille and Scarlett, crashing waves, cold water and bleached bones; and Grandpa Foxchild’s mistrustful refrain: That Dr. Lee has been around a long time.

Benjamin

I soared down the staircase and through the dining room. Gwil was working late at the hospital, Mercy outside tending the animals, everyone else presumably scattered throughout the house. I had to get out before anyone noticed me. I had to get out without Rami or Lucy knowing.

I yanked open the door to the back porch. Rami was waiting there.

“Good evening,” he greeted me in that slow, thoughtful drawl.

“Stay the fuck out of my head.”

“You know how it works, Benny Boy. I can’t ignore the loud thoughts. And you’ve been having some very loud thoughts lately.”

I stared down at my shoes, all black Adidas. Black is good. It doesn’t show stains. For example, purely hypothetically, splatters of human blood and organs. “I can make it quick. I can make it painless.”

Rami’s aura flared maroon; not enraged, no, not quite that, but certainly revolted. I was always finding new and horrifying ways to revolt them, whether I was trying to or not. “She has a family, Ben. A father. You know Chief Swan, you’ve seen him around town. He’s a good person. She’s a good person. You really want to do this? You really want to relapse like this?”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t have to. Hearing thoughts is a tricky thing, and not a gift that I would ever want; unspoken words are rarely a steam and usually a storm, disjointed and twisting, interrupting each other, bottomless layers of whispers and screams. But I was sure Rami could catch the important parts: that I didn’t know the difference between good and bad people, that I didn’t know what to think of people at all, that for me her blood was not a desire but a compulsion. I couldn’t stop envisioning it spilling over my tongue and teeth, down my throat, hot and pulsing erratically and fading. “Why can’t you hear her? Why can’t I see what she’s feeling?”

Rami shrugged, characteristically placid and restrained. It was maddening. “There are seven and a half billion people on this planet. So maybe every once in a while you get one that lives in our blind spots, there’s something chromosomal or psychological that puts them on a different frequency. I don’t know. How the hell should I know? All I know is that you definitely shouldn’t be seriously considering...well. What you’re considering.”

“Have you ever met someone whose thoughts you couldn’t hear before?”

“No,” Rami admitted; and was that a ghost of unease that crossed his face?

“Please, Rami. Let me go. Pretend you never saw me.” My words come out strained, hushed, like a spilled secret, like a confession. I’ve never wanted anyone’s blood like I want hers.

He heard that; I could see the dismay in his eyes. Now his aura is dark grey, almost black. Disappointment. Resignation. Mourning. “I told you what Lucy saw.”

“What she saw is impossible and you know it.”

Again, Rami shrugged. That blind, mindless faith. I wished I knew what it felt like. “She’s never wrong.”

“Have you told him?”

“Who, Joe?! Of course I haven’t told Joe. He...”

“He wouldn’t believe it either?” I snapped, like it was a victory.

“No,” Rami amended carefully. “No, he would believe anything Lucy saw.” Lucy had visions: flashes of the future, the past, the present. They were rare and unpredictable, often fragmented, snapshots rather than arcs. But they were always true. Or, rather, the other Lees claimed they were. The real Lees. “I don’t know what he would do about it,” Rami said finally. “So I’m waiting it out. And killing one of the primary participants is definitely not waiting it out.”

I seethed as I glared at him, hating him in that moment, hating myself only slightly more; and he heard that too. But then that wispy, fleeting haze around him was a pink like the last threads of sunlight sinking into the Western horizon. Forgiveness. Attachment. Love.

“Come with me, Ben,” Rami said gently, opening the door. “Come back inside. You can beat this. You’re better than this. You’re a good soul. You wouldn’t be with us if you weren’t.”

I tried to laugh. It came out like a snarl. “I haven’t had a soul in a long time.”

#joe mazzello fic #joe mazzelo x reader #borhap #borhap fic #borhap cast fic #twilight au #twilight #supernatural au

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