#[i prefer chicken to just about everything else rip]

[silverskye13]

If your friends give you some good ways to get iron back besides supplements, please share with the class 😅 only realized i was anemic recently after dealing with it for years :') no pressure! just thought i might ask since i don't know anyone anemic myself

I have been told! High iron foods are your friends. Red meat [though chicken also has a decent iron content], and organ meat specifically [liver, heart, tongue] are high in iron. Leafy greens like spinach and collard greens, as well as broccoli and peas. There are also high iron cereals you can buy. They tend to be on the more bland end of the cereal spectrum, but still good.

[I personally like the frosted mini wheaties. The crunch... So good...]

Also, sometimes the issue is less iron intake, and more your iron absorption. Vitamin C can sometimes help with that. Citrus fruits are a good pick. I'm thinking about grabbing some nectarines since they keep for ages. They get expensive this time of year though, which sucks >:/

Multivitamins are always a choice as well, if you don't wanna change your diet, or have food problems and can't/don't like the new foods. [I know you said you don't like supplements, but I am sharing everything I've learned with the class.]

I personally don't like how expensive they are, but the convenience is nice. I've been told iron pills can make your stomach upset though, and vitamins in general have mixed results for people. I would do your own reading on that.

That's! All I got! Good luck with your blood!

[monayen]

Ouuu maybe something where Sebastian finally snaps ( ´ ▽ ` )

there is like no fics about him x reader!

Hungry | Sebastian

➷ Paring - Sebastian x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - Noncon, fingering, choking, breath play, rough, mental break, unsafe sex

a/n - sometimes it hits me that im writing freakiness with a character who has de tomato smith chicken legs in his name. yes i'm still writing... inbox open for any requests or ideas, i love to see them still :3 (oh and if you like charlie from smiling friends i have a fic uploaded on my ao3)

Sebastian doesn't know how long it's been since he's had a good meal. His stomach aches for something delicious, and he can feel how his body slightly trembles at the growing malnutrition.

He's gotten used to a lot of things since his “adoption”, but hunger isn't one of them. The mush Randal attempts to give is questionably edible (and probably not safe for the human body) and Luther believes a “sustainable” mixture of bland, flavorless ingredients is enough to satiate.

The pressure in his head can also be accredited to Randal’s voice. He's lost track of what he's rambling about today. Something about ghosts, he deduces, and he much prefers not to listen. He just wants to go to sleep, he really does, but his throat itches and he's reminded that Randal has neglected once again to refill his water bowl. 

“Can I, uh, get some water?” Sebastian asks, interrupting the trainwreck-train of thought spewing out of Randal’s mouth. “I thought you got water like three days ago! You thirsty boy.” Randal cocks his head to the side and Sebastian can only sigh in response.

“I need it every day. Food and water every day.” It's fruitless to try to get him to remember, but his lightheadedness is getting worse, and he just wants to be properly taken care of. 

Randal shrugs, turning his focus to one of his dolls, tugging at the flimsy cloth arm before it completely rips off. A dark, small thing crawls out of the fluff, and immediately scampers into a vent in Randal’s room. He doesn't note it and tosses the torn doll to a shadowy corner in his room, probably not to be seen again.

“Eh, go ask someone else.”

Sebastian doesn't waste time to exit the room, already cycling to the next person who could actually listen to him. He grits, the ache growing in his stomach and head becoming almost unbearable. 

He just needs to find you, which… he doesn't actually know where you are. As much as he’s tried to understand this house, it's complicated and confusing. It brings him back to his thoughts of you. 

You're everything this house isn't.

You’ve been here longer than him, listed as one of Luther’s pets. However, you’ve seemed to actually gain some independence from that. Different from the adherents that are Nyen and Nyon, instead being more akin to a housemate. 

You also don't seem to have any of the… oddities that everyone else has. No crude whiskers or unblinking eyes. You’re allowed your own wardrobe, nothing like the frills and puffs he has to wear. It's almost taunting how pretty and kempt you are.

It’s actually a bit interesting how Luther could allow this, but he assumes you pull your own weight enough to be well fed and unbothered. Sebastian scoffs, how fortunate is that?

Both of you haven't actually interacted that much, and it only serves to add to that untouchable status he's framed around you.

You are in your own world, independent and capable of leaving. But you don't. You continue to stay and wander around the house without a care. While Sebastian is stuck as a poor entertainer at for a bizarre young man, scrambling for any chance of freedom.

Despite this, you don't actually torment him in any way that matters. His envy does run deep, but you're the closest thing to a saving grace right now. He knows the catmen don't really care, and Luther might just shoo him away like the nuisance he is.

Finally, after checking room after room, he spots you sitting on a vintage leather couch with an unmarked book resting on your lap that definitely would be hard to read with how dim the lights are. 

He hovers in the doorway, unsure how to start a conversation. His eyes also don't know where exactly to look, do you realize your skirt is riding up?

You beat him to say something, looking up at him through your lashes, “Hi Sebastian. Do you need something?”

You're as courteous as ever, offering a small smile that doesn't help at all to calm Sebastian’s nerves. 

“Do you have anything to eat?”

You set aside your book and give him a look he can't place. Now up and off your seat to get closer to him, he can see how your brows furrow and lips purse. Suddenly, soft hands grip at the side of his face, and he stammers reactively.

“God, you look terrible. You poor thing.” It comes out sickly sweet, the proximity only heightening the warmth spreading over his freckled face. 

“I–I know…” He sighs, not moving from your touch, “Please, can you just feed me?” 

It sounds pathetic, but at this point he's practically begging for something, anything from you. He relaxes when he hears you giggle, hands leaving his face. 

He sees you walk over to the nightstand drawer beside the couch, rummaging through it before pulling out… a stick of jerky and a juice-pouch, setting it on top in all it's glory.

It isn't much, but it's enough for Sebastian to practically salivate and let out a sound of relief. It could be stale for all he cares, as long as he can taste the added sugar and salt, he’s happy. He almost wants to jump into your arms and thank you.

“Ah, that's perfect–”

You cut him off, a smile planted on your face, “What are you going to do for it?” 

It catches Sebastian completely off guard, mouth agape, “What?” 

You don't falter at all, sitting on the couch as you stare at Sebastian’s shaking figure, “C’mon, you play with Randal all the time, don't you? How about we play something?” 

Sebastian doesn't know how to respond. He's tired, hungry, and growing frustrated. Your voice stays sweet and it provokes a realization, how stupid is it to think you of all people could give him some slack? You aren't any different than the rest of these weirdos, no matter how you hold yourself. 

His stomach growls on cue, and Sebastian can't seem to shake this feverish feeling anymore.

You notice the lack of a response, his face shaded by the dim lighting. Deciding to only poke him further, “...Unless, you aren't really that hungry.”

You don't realize how his fists ball on the side of him, teeth slightly gritting to push out his words, “Just give it.” 

A small laugh leaves your grinning mouth, teasing and like nails on a chalkboard to Sebastian’s ears, “Ooo,” You sing, “feisty!” 

Sebastian’s nostrils flare for a second, seemingly thinking something. He’s red, and his lips tremble ever so slightly. You stare intensely as he pauses and huffs before making his way towards the nightstand. 

“Another time.” He simply states, an unrecognizable irk coating his words. You don't allow this, grabbing his arm as he reaches out for the food.

“I said,” The same saccharine smile stays across your face, “what are you going to do for it?

A switch almost seems to flip in Sebastian’s brain. You don't get to comment on the deep redness that adorns his cheeks, before he suddenly grips you by your shoulders and pins you down on the couch.

Yelping, you trash against his grasp as he hovers over you. He's breathing heavily, his chest drumming up and down as you push your hands against it.

“W-wait!” Sebastian doesn't care about what you have to say. It's all stupid words, stupid words out of your pretty mouth. His head is still reeling, and he doesn't know where the strength to keep you down is coming from.

All he knows is that he's the one with control right now. Something he hasn't had for a long time.

“Stop moving!” He huffs, eyes wide as he grasps the bottom of your shirt and bra, flipping it up to expose you.

His movements are almost thoughtless, as if a ghost possessed him to cup your breast and snake fingers between your thighs. Thoughtless doesn't make it any less rough, and soon enough your bottom half is exposed too.

“Listen, Sebastian, you– you can just have it! I was only messing around!” You try to excuse yourself, but his hand remains groping at your body like you're the first soft thing he's had to hold in forever.  As if you're going to be ripped away from his hands at any second. 

His erection pokes at your pinned down hip, the fabric of his outfit practically straining him. “I don't listen to you.” Sebastian spits, nor loud or quiet. 

It's directly for you to hear.

More words sprew from his mouth. “You think you can just taunt me? Mess with me? Like everyone else?” They come out faster than you can respond, jaw hanging open to croak out any excuse. 

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He suddenly moves and flips you over onto your stomach, head pressed down onto the aged leather of the couch, hands forced behind your back.

“I need this.” Those words are whispered to himself, low and dark. If you could look at him directly in the face, you’d see the cloudy look overcasting his eyes, the sweat that builds on his forehead, and the furrow of his brows as he looks at your figure. The dim room isn't enough to hide you.

All you can see is leather and flipped strands of hair in your vision. Instead you can only focus on the sound of his deep, shaky breath. Along with the sound of him shuffling to remove his own clothes. He moves on top of you, lanky body pressing against your behind, practically caging you. So close that it's hard to thrash around. And even if you could, you'd only be pushing up against him more.

You gasp when he puts his skinny fingers between your thighs, spreading you apart with a swift motion. Sebastian doesn't waste any time in pushing his fingers inside of you, hunched over as he continues to whisper to himself.

The pounding of your heart is loud in your own ears, you're sure he can hear how it patters against the couch more when he decides to curl his fingers. You whine, almost unintentionally arching at how good it shouldn't feel. But it does, and he knows because he lets out a laugh, “You like this?” It sounds both mocking and genuine.

The leather muffles you, but you manage to moan out a “No–” to which Sebastian seethes at. He leans into your ear, fingers still pumping into your heat. “Don’t lie. You– you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't.” 

You’re unsure if Sebastian is trying to convince himself or you. The slight waver in his voice pairs with the hastiness of his fingers, itching to draw out more moans from your mouth. It’s impossible to ignore the several digits Sebastian pumps into you, him noticing how your thighs begin to quake and muscles tighten around his fingers. As quickly you're brought to the edge, Sebastian retracts. You whine at the now empty sensation, practically huffing like a brat. You don't even realize. Now his hand grips at your side of your hips, your own wetness uncomfortable on your skin. 

“Maybe you’ll like this more.” Sebastian whispers, prodding at your entrance with this length. It’s hard to speak with how he continues to push your head down into the cushion, though any denial would fall on deaf ears even if you could. He slips in too easily, practically bottoming out the second your tightness wraps around him.

Sebastian is all too loud, words and moans mixing into pure nonsense. You wonder why nobody has heard anything yet. The door isn’t even locked. He doesn't care at all it seems, too engrossed in the feeling inside you to even consider the consequences of being caught. 

Sebastian’s hand on the back of your head releases, and you think maybe he’ll let you turn. Maybe you’ll actually be able to scream properly for Luther with air properly filling your lungs and mouth not pressed against leather. He isn’t slowing down at all though, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. A hand snakes around the back of your throat and squeezes, your heart dropping at the growing pressure on your windpipes. 

Sebastian's grip on your throat tightens, the need to claim something, anything, overtaking him. He's spent. He's so close, and he's not about to stop now. He's on the brink, and the feeling of you tightening around him, the way you're almost helpless under him, only serves to push him further.

You can't breathe, your eyes widening frantically, and the only thing you can manage to do is grip the couch. The lack of air is making your vision blur as Sebastian continues to thrust into you, not seeming to notice or care. Your mind begins to swim, the dim room now spinning in your vision.

It's a terrifyingly intense sensation, being so close to the edge yet being choked, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving you feeling dizzy. Your body betrays you, arching and pulsating at the rapid thrusts. Croaking out whatever air left in your lungs, you come with a shudder, your muscles gripping Sebastian’s cock as he continues to pound into you.

Sebastian follows with a guttural moan, thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches his own climax, shooting into you. The hand around your throat tightens momentarily, before finally releasing, sending you gasping for air. He practically collapses on top of you, his own breath heavy. 

He still holds you against the couch, though you wouldn't have the strength to move him to begin with. You feel the shuffle of him getting off on top of you, finally pulling out with a small groan and letting you at least get onto your side. He now lays beside you, body wrapped over yours. The couch barely fits you both, all you can feel is the heat of both your bodies and the sensation of wetness dripping between your thighs. 

Sebastian nuzzles against you like a baby. He looks exhausted, eyes shut and brows furrowed. You look to find any empathy—any guilt. It isn't there. If anything, he looks content. As if you both will stay like this forever. 

“You're right.” He murmurs, a soft rasp in his voice you aren't used to. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

[inahallucination]

the poets dedicate their 20s to learning skills that they always wanted to know but their parents wouldn’t let them because they weren’t important or “manly” enough

just fun things like sewing, knitting, cooking, gardening, etc etc

//

neil learns to knit for the sole purpose of knitting todd sweaters

he’s already a decent cook though because he used to sneak into the kitchen with his mom when his dad was out of the house

he can take care of plants so that if todd can’t (if he’s sick or away) todd’s plants dont die

he learns how to sew too, but he generally prefers knitting

he also likes to knit silly hats for todd’s plants

he also likes to knit silly hats for charlie

all the poets have a neil perry special sweater

but no one has as many as todd

he also knits blankets because todd gets cold

he knits stuffed animals too and a lot of them are stored away for his and todd’s “kids when we’re emotionally and financially stable enough to adopt” 

//

todd learns to garden to pick flowers for neil 

he gardens other things too

he grows veggies and fruits and just cool non-flower plants that he likes

his veggies and fruits get collected and sent to the rest of the poets 

once one of the poets picked a flower from him and he hissed at them but like two minutes later he picked his own flowers to make neil a flower crown

favoritism 

todd already knows how to sew - he stole thread and a needle from his mom and tried to fix a shirt when he was young

he fucked it up but he ended up using it to practice, and the next time he ripped a shirt he fixed it

he fixes neil’s clothes

at welton he sewed ‘i love you’ into the sleeve of one of neil’s shirts (neil still has it)

he’s learning how to embroider 

he can’t cook but not for a lack of trying

he gives the poets plants and teaches them how to take care of them

//

charlie learns embroidery to make his clothes “extra charlie”

obviously

charlie also learned how to cook but his skills vary

like he can only make dishes he really really likes

everything else is....

it’s better if he’s not in the kitchen unless he’s there to cook his favorites

once cameron didn’t go through with a dare so charlie stole his shirt and embroidered a chicken into it but cameron didn’t even acknowledge that he was being insulted because he was genuinely awed by charlie’s skill

charlie knows he’s good but every time someone compliments him on it he gets all blushy

todd told him once that he was “really cool” after seeing him work and he threw a pillow at his face

he’s teaching todd how to embroider btw

//

cameron learns to sew for practical reasons

its just easy and convenient to be able to fix tears in his clothes tbh

he learns to cook too for the same reasons

he doesn’t particularly care of them as much as the others - he really just learns the skills because he thinks that they’re skills everyone should know

cooking and sewing can be relaxing after a long day tho 

but still its mostly just practical reasoning

//

meeks and pitts learn to cook for experimental reasons

they’re both fine cooks on their own but put them together and shit will blow up or come out looking like it could kill you

//

the first thing meeks learns to make is tea

the second is pancakes 

like cameron a lot of his skills are learned because they’re practical skills to know

he actively makes fun of people who don’t learn them because theyre too “girly” btw just thought you should know (neil and todd’s dads in particular)

but cooking is something he just really likes

it takes him 3 days but he learns pitts favorite dish that his mom made after he confesses how much he misses it 

//

pitts convinces neil to teach him to knit solely for the purpose of making his and meeks’ robot kids tiny sweaters

thats all he ever makes

he knows how to cook because meeks gets invested in his stuff and despite being a good cook and liking to cook, somehow forgets to eat

he also knows about plants because he sometimes helps carry todd’s 27534875 giant ass plants from the car to his apartment/house

i think pitts is lowkey the kind of guy to learn a little of everything so his friends can ramble about it to him tbh tbh

he tries and tries but he just doesn’t have the patience to embroider and he’s really surprised that charlie does

he actually knew how to sew since welton and often times when meeks accidently ripped his uniform because it got caught on like a loose nail on their invention, he’d fix it 

(he never told meeks but since pitts hates getting yelled at, he was worried that meeks would get yelled at too and since meeks and him made a lot of stuff and meeks clothes would often get tears into them, he would spend any minute away from meeks to learn. because he didn’t want him to get in trouble)

//

canon knox probably wouldn’t learn shit tbh tbh

fanon knox however, is the kind of person to learn everything he can so his “future wife doesn’t have to worry”

thats his only motivation tbh tbh

he makes really good pie btw

//

anyway back to anderperry

neil cooks for todd and his “secret ingredient” is love 

neil may knit mostly for todd but he also knits himself sweaters (though todd steals his sweaters all the time so perhaps those are just for todd too)

todd refers to his plants as his and neil’s kids and never notices how red neil turns

neil thinks that todd doesn’t know about the toys he’s saving for their future kids but he does and todd thinks its the sweetest thing in the world

todd gets into the habit of sewing little messages into neil’s clothes

most of the fruits and veggies that todd grows are neil’s favorites

[reidyoulikeabook]

A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

[chiliiscereal]

Prompt idea: the turtles with a friend or s/o that sleep walks.

Turtles with and S/o that sleepwalks

———-

So I based this off how my cousin sleep walks hope you don’t mind :)

Raph:

-home boy freaked out the first time he saw you sleepwalk

-he was up at night getting some cake but when he saw you walking by HO HO BOY did he jump out of his skin

-no one else was awake and you practically materialized out of the shadows!

-he eventually calmed down enough to realize that you weren’t awake

-I mean, it wasn’t exactly obvious

-you sort of walked around aimlessly a while mumbling

-that wasn’t really something sleeping people did..

-“babe, what’re you doin’ up? It’s 1 in the morning!”

-“I gotta put the salami CD’s in the chicken coop”

-“umm.. what?”

-once it finally clicked he didn’t exactly know what he should do

-was it a myth that you weren’t supposed to wake up a sleepwalking person?

-was there some sort of side affect?

-instead of intervening he just sort of sat at the table and watched

-he didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong but he also didn’t want you to get hurt

-he found himself getting up a couple of times when he thought you were gonna run into a table, moving it out of the way at lightning speed

-Other than that you were fine

-you simply walked back into your room and shut the light off

-he asked about it the next morning and you told him you sleep walk if you’re really tired

-and, sadly, being in highschool meant that you were tired all the time

-apparently you’d done it since you were little and you were used to it by now

-Raph didnt exactly know what he should do about it

-you told him you were fine and that he should leave you be, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you

-he decided the best course of action was to help behind the scenes

-that meant making sure you didn’t stay up late

-if you slept walked when you were really tired then he’d stop you from that state of feeling

-he had an alarm set for when he’d start hinting that it was bedtime

-he’s unplug the WiFi if you didn’t get the message (subtly of course) and then he’d turn around and tell you that the WiFi always got spotty when it was late

-he’d even stay up a little later to see if you were going to sleep walk

-if not then he’d head straight to bed

-but sometimes you still did it

-he’d found the best option was to just pick you up and place you back in your room

-“but the salami CD’s...”

-“they’ll still be there in the morning.”

-he’d pull you close to him and let you snuggle in close, the two of you sitting on your

-he always left before you woke up though

-yet you knew he had been there

-it was hard not to know when you woke up with a huge dip in the other side of your bed

-the two of you had a system and it worked

Donnie:

-Donnies already up and working by the time you start walking around

-the thing is, he didn’t realize you weren’t awake for probably an hour

-you were just walking from room to room and occasionally picking things up

-he was used to you being up late in his defense

-but when you ignored him or started mumbling... yeah that ripped him off

-“babe can you pass me the screwdriver?”

-“no, the radishes aren’t condensed.”

-“...I’m sorry?”

“Radishes.”

“Are you even awake?”

“I gotta go condense the radishes before Mikey finds out.”

-this boy was educated on the sleepwalking in a matter of seconds via research

-he knew you needed the rest so he never woke you up

-instead, he would find wherever you were walking around and have you stay in his room while he worked

-you never broke anything and it was nice to not be alone in a way

-besides your sleepwalking never lasted for long

-often it ended with you wandering over to him and slumping against his shoulder

-that meant he got to hold you while the night was quiet and peaceful

-the next morning you always woke back up in your own bed

-Donnie denied that he ever had anything to do with your sleepwalking

-but all you had to do was test it out to find the truth

-you walked into his room without a word one night and he didn’t even seem surprised

-“you good babe?”

-you chose not to say anything, you just kept walking

-“how are those condensed radishes doing?”

-you didn’t know what that meant but you assumed it was something you said in your sleep

-“you’re awfully quiet tonight. Usually you don’t stop talking.”

-you sit down beside him and place your head on his shoulder

-boy doesn’t even hesitate in pulling you closer and going back to work

-you don’t bother telling him that you know

-it’s nice to have someone looking out for you

Leo:

-oh he found out the first time you slept walked

-even brought it up casually the next morning

-he has insomnia so anything that happens after hours he’s already aware of it

-for the first few nights it was him joking about the cause being something supernatural

-he stopped when he thought you were getting offended though

-he diiiiid however say you were the sleep to his insomnia

-he can’t sleep at night and nothing can wake you up!

-you two balance each other out!

-and believe me, he has TRIED to wake you up to no avail

-doesn’t matter if it’s a loud noise or shaking your shoulder, nothing will wake you up

-unfortunately, since he’s always awake, he gets to see everything you do while wandering around

-AND he gets to see it while recording

-he’s got videos and videos of the random nonsense that comes out of your mouth

-and if he ever finds you cleaning in your sleep heaven knows he’s gonna find a way for you to take care of some of his chores to

-“come on, babe! You were already folding clothes! What’s a few extra?”

-he does find himself having to emergency portal you at times

-like the time you nearly walked off the skate ramp

-he portalled you into his arms as quick as he could

-“who decides to put a skate ramp right where people can fall down it?” He’s mumbling as he carries you back to his room

-having you there helps his insomnia very much

-in a way you’re both helping each other

Mikey:

-took the longest time to realize you sleepwalk

-if took him a whole two months

-usually you stayed in your own room

-he only realized when you walked into his room started picking up his art supplies while he was painting

-usually when he was painting you would plop down beside him and ask him questions (all during the day)

-but now you were picking up brushes and mumbling about how you needed to save the tomato’s before the bear ate them all

-poor baby ran to Donnie, thinking you were sick or delusional

-his older brother casually explained that it’s probably just sleep walking and he calmed down

-he was a little freaked out but grew used to it after a couple more night of it

-doesn’t really understand why you sometimes do normal things in your sleep like cleaning or fixing a sandwich

-still finds himself helping you out though

-he’ll be right next to you, folding clothes or passing you the mayo

-recently he found out he can ask you questions and get pretty funny answers

-“do you prefer hot dogs, hamburgers, or pizza?”

-“soggy bread.”

-“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”

-always keeps you updated the next morning

-it embarrassed you to no end

-he didn’t need to hear all that stuff!

-one night he asked a less casual question

-“so how do you feel about Mikey?”

-“I would eat a thousand soggy breads for Mikey if he asked.”

-“r-really?”

-“of course. I love him!”

-that was the first time you openly said you loved him

-honestly his heart stopped for a few seconds

-he brought it up that next morning and no, you wouldn’t eat a thousand soggy breads if he asked

-but yes, you loved him to pieces

[chasingpj]

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

pairing: leo valdez x gn reader

summary: five ways he says i love you through his actions

warnings: implied nudity and s*x, discusses food and eating and nothing else, i think. oh, and maybe some typos

category: headcanons

love letters/notes

leo is a busy boy

he's always picking up new projects so he can spend all day in his workshop or the forges with his siblings

when you guys live together, he leaves small notes on the refrigerator for you

they're always short, saying simple things like "i love you" and "i miss you already"

for the love letters, he'll leave them in random places for you to find

if you're a big reader, i can see him hiding it between the pages of your book

one day, you pick up your book to read, and the note falls on your lap

it's a love letter written on a piece of blueprint paper; there’s a little bit of oil smudged on the side of it

he got distracted while he was working on something because you were the only thing he could think about

his love letters never fail to make your heart flutter

sometimes they make you cry

he's quite sentimental

leo always tells you he does better writing down his feelings than he is saying it out loud because he can organize his thoughts better

you know that leo has a hard time with that because of how he grew up

when you guys have an argument, which isn't very often, he writes his feelings down on paper

he's always quick to apologize if he did something wrong, and the notes help him form the apology that you deserve, and you're quick to forgive him

once, you were super angry after an argument, so you locked yourself in your shared bedroom

you needed to calm yourself down

the both of you much too angry and stubborn to make a compromise

as your recollecting yourself, 40 minutes in, a folded piece of paper slips from under the door

the letter has teardrop stains, and the ink is slightly smudged

on the paper, it's all his thoughts written out in the best way he can explain them

after reading what he wrote, you quickly deemed that whatever you were fighting about was silly, and you guys made up

you love his spontaneous notes so much that you do them back

you guys have a game of who can find the most creative hiding spot for your notes

one time you found one tapped to the inside of the toilet cover

you found it hilarious

you throw folded post-its with messages in his tool belt

he finds them during the day while he's working on something

after you joined in on the fun, he scatters notes in random places, and every few days, you find a new message hidden somewhere randomly

they're just so sweet; there’s never a time where they don't make you smile

gifts

this is a given

it's not a leo headcanon if gift-giving isn't included

he would make you things like roses from scrap metal to literal furniture

if you have a lot of jewelry, he will make you a cute jewelry box

if you're a big book reader, he'll make you bookcases to support your book collection

he's always giving you little trinkets that he made with leftover materials from projects

he loves making things for you and gets upset when you decide to buy something from ikea instead of asking him

"babe, why would you buy that? I could have just made it for you!"

when he's on his way from returning on his quest, sometimes he'll find something that reminds him of you in a store, and he'll buy it

when he has the money for it, he'd buy you a star :(

says that he spent even more money to buy an extra bright star

because "you're the sun in my universe"

brb gonna cry

also, he'd gift you a bond bracelet

you know, those bracelets where every time you tap on it, it makes the other person's bracelet vibrate

the both of you get anxious when one of you goes on quests, so the bracelets bring the other person who's at home comfort

because when you tap back, at least he knows you're alive and vice versa

one of the best gifts you've ever received from him was your engagement ring

he made it himself

he took so much care and effort into making it

imagine leo forging your wedding ring himself??? i'm in spain with no s

he was so nervous that you wouldn't like the style, so he had piper casually bring it up to you

piper was so nonchalant about it that you didn't even think twice about the question

the ring has the prettiest gemstone or diamond (whatever you prefer)

you cried so hard when he told you he made it himself that you couldn't even say yes to his proposal clearly

he makes both of your wedding bands too

he carves a saying that's dear to the both of you on the inside

this is nothing to do with anything but imagine when you guys have kids, he makes animals out of pipe cleaners for them i'm gonna cry, brb pt 2

overall, whether he makes the present himself or not, he puts a lot of effort and care into it

every gift has a meaning and a place dear to your heart

cooking for you

leo is canoningly a good cook

he loves cooking for you

and you love eating what he makes

he's usually busy on the weekdays, so he cooks on the weekends

you guys always joke that he'd be the cutest househusband

you got him an apron for Christmas as a joke gift one year, and he wears it all the time

there's something so charming about him wearing an apron with a funny saying like "Mr. Good Lookin is Cookin" or with like a ripped out shirtless guy in front of it

you giggle every time you see him wearing it

oh, no matter how many times you've seen it, it's still so bizarre when he takes out hot trays from the oven with his BARE hands

everything he makes tastes amazing

he makes all kinds of food and is always trying something new

if you tell him what you’re craving, he’ll cook it for you

once he woke you up to ask if you wanted ribs… it was 3 am but like, of course, you wanted some

unless you're vegetarian or vegan, sorry, HAHA

often though, he does make Mexican food

it reminds him of when his mom was alive

he always has some story to share

every time he makes caldo de pollo (chicken soup), he always talks about how his mother would make it in the summer and that when he was little, he would always complain about eating hot soup in hot weather

you know he doesn't notice his constant telling of this story, but you don't mind

it's so bittersweet when he talks about his mom

through the cooking of his traditional food, you feel closer to him and his late mother

the memories he shares with you makes your eyes sting with tears

especially when leo says how much he wishes that esperanza could have met you

sorry, that was a little emo

also, leo usually wakes up earlier than you

he knows you're a sleepyhead, so he'll cook breakfast for you

so that when you're running around in the morning trying to get dressed and your things together

you never leave the house hungry because there's always a tupperware filled with breakfast, and if he has enough time, he'll fix you something to take for lunch too

if you come home late from work or school, he'll make dinner even if he's tired to surprise you

so many times you've come home from a shitty day at work or school, and the small table where you guys eat your meals is all set up with your favorite food

leo greets you by peeking his head into the hallway from the kitchen, tossed curls, cheerful brown eyes, and a bright grin

"I hope you're hungry," he says, despite knowing that you are hungry

and then you guys talk and laugh together over a delicious meal

compliments

leo's really observant

he notices when you’re in a bad mood, even if you try not to show it

he also notices when you change little things about your appearance

if you get a haircut or you get your nails done, he'll comment on it right away

especially outfits

if you buy something new, he'll complement it

imagine standing in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in your new outfit

leo comes behind you, his hands coming around your waist

he'll pepper kisses on your neck, a soft hum leaving his lips as he meets your eyes in the mirror

"is this new, mi amor?" he asks, hands running up your sides

once you affirm that it is a new dress or shirt, he'll smile and tell you how beautiful you look in it

maybe says he'd rather see it off of you wink wink

there's never a day where he doesn't compliment you

he thinks you're the prettiest person in the world

you've caught him staring at you lovingly plenty of times

he's just asking himself how did he manage to get someone as beautiful and amazing as you

you always squirm under his gaze and playfully ask what is he looking at

"you're so pretty, mi amor. I can't help it."

AHHH!!!!

alongside the endearment of mi amor, he'd always call you bonita and hermosa

you're so sweet to him, and he can't help but tell you how much you mean to him every chance he gets

surprises

leo is an acts of service kind of guy

i think he'll spontaneously do things to make you happy

if you've been busy studying for finals or just beat up from a day at work

he'll draw you a bath

or he'll cut up some fruit for you and leave it at your desk

he randomly buys you flowers

he never needs an occasion to buy your flowers

it'll be a regular tuesday, leo just happened to walk past a store with flowers displayed in the front, and he thought about how bright your smile would be if he showed up with a bouquet

I feel like he's pretty introverted, enjoys being at home with you

the both of you are pretty broke for a while, so a lot of dates were at home

leo made the most of it

you guys will have nice dinners at home

he'll set the table nicely, set the mood with candles

he'll redecorate the space so well you feel like you're at an actual restaurant

and of course, his food is amazing

breakfast in bed is another thing he'd do for you unsolicited

especially if you guys had a looong night wink wink

you're woken up by his still groggy voice, fluttering kisses on your cheeks

you open your eyes to see he's set a tray with your favorite breakfast on top of the bed

the two of you will eat breakfast together, which usually leads to you staying in bed for the rest of the day

just enjoying the warm cocoon your sheets create around the both of you

overall, he's super observant and caring, and he goes the extra mile to make sure you're happy because he knows you do the same

anyways, does anyone know where I can get a leo?

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @Slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky

[iovnyu]

2:34am

content: sick boyfriend! jake

warning: there is a slight mention of fake vomiting (?) i don’t know if is important to warn about but just letting you know! 

a/n: hello!! i believe this is my first jake timestamp, if i am not mistaken lol. also i am still working on the niki boyfriend headcanon so ill try to upload it next week or the week after!! remember to look at the request guide here before you ask for one !!

this whole relationship was new to you and jake. when it comes to serious relationships you both were very inexperienced but either way, you were comfortable with one another. 

there were many awkward moments in the beginning of the relationship but, you guys managed. it did take a while for it to hit you that you were dating jake. nonetheless, that didn’t change the way you saw him. he was still the goofy australian boy that somehow made you happy -- especially whenever you were going through a rough time. you were basically there for each other through everything.

currently, you were tending to jake’s needs. here you stood, making chicken noodle soup in the kitchen of the boys’ dorm. you wouldn’t say you are the best cook but you knew how to make simple things and experimented with different recipes often. but, there was one thing you could cook well -- and that was chicken noodle soup.

it was simple, you made it often since jake always got sick and preferred your soup rather than the canned ones at the market. although it was basically the same things put together in a pot, he likes to believe that your cooking “hits different”. 

niki came into the kitchen, shaking your shoulders. “y/n!!! can you cook it any faster? he is whining like a baby!” he whined. 

“i am almost done.” you said, turning to niki -- who looked like he wanted to rip his ears out. niki let out a big sigh and while silently cursing at the whining boy in his room.

quickly grabbing a spoon and napkins, you brought the warm soup into the room jake was in. jake’s face immediately lit up. “is it chicken noodle soup?”

nodding, you carefully walked towards him, making sure to be careful and not spill the hot soup on the floor. “it’s super hot, please be careful jake.” you said, eyeing him as you placed the bowl on his night stand next to him. 

“i am always careful, what do you take me as?” jake scoffed, immediately grabbing the bowl and quickly setting it back down. “-- actually it is quite hot. ow.”

laughing, you grabbed the spoon and scooped the soup and slowly brought the spoon to him. “here, say ah.” you said, as you tried your best to not spill the hot soup on him or his bed. jake opened his mouth and blew on the spoon and ate the soup.

“oh my god. are you feeding him??” sunoo said as he stood in the doorway, shocked and disgusted. “you guys are so--” he said, fake vomiting. he walked out into the hallway and closed the door, telling the others to “not go in or else they will experience extreme disgust”.

“i like it when you fed me like this.” jake said, smiling at you. “maybe i should get sick more often.” rolling your eyes, you shut him up with another spoonful of soup. 

“you’re lucky i’m your girlfriend.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

Part 1

masterlist

Because, my darlings, I have no impulse control and Yoongi demanded to be written. I’m going to see if I can balance between SW and this, alternate releasing chapters for each story, but we’ll see. The title is a working title. don’t know if I’ll stick with it. I’m open to suggestions. Enjoy, my lovlies! It was a blast to write!-- Chaotic puff

here’s a link to the song the MC plays in this chapter!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrKjywjo7Q 

Yoongi didn’t go to events like this. He was a professional, but even professionals got blocks sometimes, and he was having a block. He couldn’t seem to produce anything new. He had spent hours in his studio trying to come up with something, but the muse had abandoned him. He needed to get out of his head, to get out of the studio for a while.

That was how he ended up sitting through a university showcase watching young, aspiring musicians present their skills. It was a far more classical feel than he used in his music. He was a rap god. He didn’t really use Debussy and Mozart in his work. But there was something amusing about watching all the fresh faced youths taking their showcase so seriously. Most of them would never be serious musicians. They would never play for a national symphony, but the way they all looked it was as if they were playing for some great orchestra or symphony instead of a small college showcase was amusing. It was all so serious, all so insignificant.

He was bored with it. Bored with the overly perfect renditions of the same songs that people had been playing for decades. Where was the feeling? Where was the passion? They were all just clinically passing through the motions for a grade. None of them would make serious musicians, not playing the way they did.

He was about to leave when the first strains of the cello caught his attention. It was the first real emotion he had heard from any of them. His eyes snapped to the stage to see a pair of girls. One was seated at the piano while the other was sat on a solitary chair with a cello before her. Both of them were as perfectly put together as every other student that had gone before them had been, black dresses and not a hair out of place.

He ignored the pianist in the favor of the cellist. Her eyes were closed as she played the rest of her face serene. She was completely at peace even though the song she played showed a deep sorrow. The song was just as recognizable as every other piece that had been played that night. The only difference was the musician.

She was lovely, pale and fragile under the stage lights, but there was also something almost unbearably sad about her, and it showed in her playing. The piece itself was already melancholy, but the way she played it was nearly heartbreaking. Her hair was pulled back in a neat updo that left her face clear for his perusal. Even with her eyes closed her face was filled with emotion. The simple string of pearls around her neck highlighted its curve, its swan like quality. Everything about her was simple, classic, graceful as she played.

He looked through the program he had been given when he’d first arrived searching for the song, searching for a name, her name. There is it was. The Swan composed by Camille Saint-Saens played by Kang Y/N and accompanied by Guem Nina. Kang Y/N. The name rang through his head carried by the melody she played. Beautiful. Beautiful and sad just like the song she played, just like her.

The song passed by too quickly for his liking. Before he knew it she was pulling her bow across the strings for the final time. Both musicians bowed to the audience before disappearing backstage and out of his sight. The spell was broken, but Yoongi still wanted to know more. Who was she? Why was she so sad? Why had she chosen that song? Yoongi wanted to know it all. The thought of her sent inspiration running through him. The fire was lit again telling him to create, to compose, for her.

He wanted to know what she would think of his music. Did she listen to rap? More specifically, did she listen to him? Or did she prefer classical music like the kind she had just played? Did she play any other instruments? Did she sing? How would the cello sound intertwined with his own style of music? He wanted to know the answer to all of these questions and so many more, but first he had to find her. Kang Y/N. His new muse.

So he sent out a bodyguard to find out everything about her that he could. Perhaps he should have felt guilty sending out a man to practically stalk the girl and bring him information on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about the invasion of her privacy. She consumed him, filling his thoughts. He wanted her near him. He wanted to hear her play, wanted to wipe the sadness from her features, and he was determined to do just that. She was meant to be his, and he wouldn’t rest until she was.  

Y/N was unaware of the thoughts coursing through his head as she was backstage tucked into a broom closet peeling herself out of her dress and the uncomfortable heels in favor of a pair of ripped jeans and a comfy sweater. She let her hair down from its tight confines and secured it in a loose pony tail. She loved playing, but stepping out on stage was always nerve wracking for her. The dresses and the perfectly put together faces never seemed like her. She wasn’t fancy or elegant. She was just… her. She didn’t even own the cello she had just played. She could never afford such a beautiful instrument. It belonged to the school.

She had had the cello on loan so long as she participated in the university orchestra, but that deal could no longer be upheld on her end. Family and financial obligations would no longer allow it. They were barely making ends meet as it was. She didn’t have the time to spend at rehearsals and practices when she needed to be focusing on her studies and working. Even her studies would have to take a back seat if their fortunes didn’t take a turn for the better soon.

It was just her, her grandmother, and her baby nephew, well no longer quite a baby. He was going to be three before she knew it. Her mother had taken off years ago. She flew in and out of their lives whenever it suited her usually when she wanted someone from them. Her father, bless him, couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. He was a dreamer. He sat at home most days contemplating the great questions of life like some sort of great philosopher. Most times he was drunk when he did this. She thanked god that he wasn’t violent drunk. His head was in the clouds more than else when he was drunk. Her sister, well no one really knew where Ha Jin was. She had taken off after the baby was born. She’d left Eun Jae with her and their grandmother, and she’d disappeared into the wind just like their mother had.

Part of her wanted to blame her little sister, to scream to the high heavens that it wasn’t fair that she was too young to be responsible for a child, but so was Ha Jin. She had been a child when she’d gotten pregnant, just seventeen when the baby was born. She was far too young to be a mother. Y/N couldn’t blame her for not being ready to raise a child, but she could blame her for abandoning Eun Jae.

Eun Jae didn’t know his mother. As far as he was concerned Y/N was his mother. She and Halmeoni were his whole world, his whole family. Her father couldn’t be counted as any sort of parental figure. He couldn’t be counted as one for his own daughters much less for his grandson. She’d heard her grandmother curse on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless son.  Y/N had cursed on more than one occasion that the gods had given her such a useless father. But they had to work with what they were given, and this was the hand that fate had played them.

She had been eight when she’d figured out that both of her parents were useless. She’d been sixteen when she’d gotten her first part time job to help support the family. She’d been nineteen when she’d had to become a mother for her nephew. It was a shitty life, but it was hers.

Despite all the chaos Eun Jae had brought into the world, she wouldn’t trade him for anything. She loved that little boy more than life. He was her little angel, her light, the reason she was willing to sacrifice anything, to sacrifice everything. She may not have birthed him, but he was her son. He was the reason that she was sitting in a chicken place late in the evening a few days after the showcase with Nina. The pair of them were huddled over a phone making a profile on an app called sugarbebe.

“Are you sure about this?” Nina asked as they finalized her profile. “Maybe you could get another job.”

“I’m already working two jobs, along with school and practice, and Eun Jae. I can’t take on anything else.” She shook her head tiredly, glaring down at her phone in distaste. “We need the money.”

“What are you going to tell Halmeoni?” Nina questioned brows furrowed worriedly.

“I’m not going to tell Halmeoni anything. She thinks I’m looking for another job to take the place of orchestra.”

“And she’s okay with that?”

“No.” She laughed recalling the look on her grandmother’s face when she had told her that she was quitting orchestra. “She’s pissed at me. Says I’m wasting my God given talent, and that I’ll end up like my mom and my father and my sister if I’m not careful.”

“Harsh.” The other girl cringed knowing full well just how scary Y/N’s grandmother could be. “I still can’t believe it was your last concert.”

“It was only a showcase. Forget orchestra. Halmeoni said all that, and I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of giving up school to help with the bills.”

Nina’s eyes widened almost comically. “She’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah. I know.” She shuddered thinking of what her grandmother would do to her if she did quit school to help. It would not be a pretty picture. “I think she’d beat me black and blue with her favorite soup ladle.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t find out, and let’s hope you find yourself a rich sugar daddy.” Nina raised her glass in a mock toast, and Y/N raised hers as well.

“Here’s hoping.”

They pressed the button submitting her profile on the app. It was too late to back out now. If she was lucky whoever chose her wouldn’t be too old or perverted. With any luck he wouldn’t be ugly either, but that was asking a lot and she didn’t hold that much hope.  She’d be lucky if the guy wasn’t too much of a creep.

They both stared down at the phone in shock as it chimed, the banner announcing that she had a match on sugarbebe. Neither of them had expected anything quite that soon.

“Well, open it! What does it say? Who did you match with?” Nina asked excitedly eyes taking up almost the whole of her face with how wide they were.

She tapped on her phone opening the profile. MYG. No picture. Age twenty-seven. A producer. There wasn’t much information, but there was a message from the man asking to meet in person.

Nina looked over her shoulder frowning as she examined the profile as well. “He doesn’t have much information does he?”

“He wants to meet.”

“When?”

“Friday.” She gulped suddenly filled with nerves. It was all becoming so real. “He’s wants to meet on Friday at D-2.”

They both knew D-2. Every young person in the city knew it. It was the hottest club in Seoul at the moment, made even hotter by the fact it was owned by the king of rap himself, Agust D. To get into D-2 you either had to be rich, famous, or willing to wait in atrociously long lines and tipping the bouncer an outrageous amount of money wouldn’t hurt your chances either.

“D-2?” Nina gasped practically ripping the phone out of her hand to read the message herself. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what it says.”

“Do you have anything to wear?”

It was a good question. She really didn’t have anything that could be considered worthy of a place like D-2. Nothing she owned was really sexy. It was mostly comfy sweaters, jeans, and cute skirts. Things she could wear to school and work and were comfortable enough to chase a toddler around in. None of those would be appropriate for the club. Neither would any of the dresses she used for concerts. And the look on her face clearly conveyed that to Nina.

“You can borrow something of mine.” She assured gently patting her friend’s arm. “Maybe he won’t be so bad?”

“Maybe.” She agreed nervously.

“You can borrow that purple dress of mine. I can lend you some earrings too.” Nina offered sending her a reassuring smile. “At least you know if he’s meeting you at D-2 he’s gotta be rich.”

Y/N smiled back nervously. “I’m just hoping he’s not too much of a creep. Eun Jae is supposed to be with me at the apartment on Friday. Do you think you could babysit? If I ask Halmeoni to keep him at the restaurant she’ll ask questions.”

She had a small apartment close to campus that she stayed at normally. Eun Jae would bounce between the apartment and the family home with Halmeoni. It was good for him to be out of the house and away from her father sometimes, and it allowed her to keep Eun Jae close. She saw him often enough as she worked at Halmeoni’s restaurant, but on the weekends he would stay with her at the apartment. She’d take him back to Halmeoni’s on Sunday evening, and they’d both stay the night. Halmeoni would watch him during the week while she had classes, practice, and work, and Halmeoni lived closer to the preschool they were sending him to. She hated being away from him so much, but it was the best they could do for the moment.

“Of course I’ll watch Jae-ah.” Nina smiled. “You know I love the little guy. I’m his favorite auntie.”

“You’re his only auntie.”

“Technically, you’re his aunt.”

“Well unless Ha Jin suddenly shows up with a maternal instinct, I’m all he’s got in the mom department.”

“Poor kid.” Nina cringed teasingly.

“Hey.”  Y/N shoved her shoulder playfully. “I’m a great mom.”

“You’re okay at it.” The other girl dodged another hit. “I mean, he does have a sugar baby for a mom.”

“First of all, rude. Second, it’s only until we get our heads above water again, and then never again. This will all be a bad memory.”

Nina squeezed her arm sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll actually have a good time.”

“I really don’t think so, but how bad could it be?” It wasn’t going to be forever, and she could put up with anything to help her family, for Eun Jae.  

part 2

[haechanniesunflowers]

Misunderstandings and Mayhem

Part 1

Y/n didn't understand how hard married life was until she married Chan and moved in a house with him. They made things work and compromised for each other. Now it wasn't just her and her individual needs but they both had to care for each other and their needs, because they lived separately before marriage. Sometimes she needed space but had to come to terms with the fact that she will have Chan around most of the time so she had to adjust and change her habits, same with him. They complemented each other, him being an extrovert and taking the lead in most things and her being an introvert, handling everything perfectly so things go smoothly.

They promised each other that other people won't get in the way of their marriage and you'd talk and resolve each and every argument, no matter what.

Chan liked going out and exploring things and y/n preferred staying home and chilling. He wanted to try a new Korean bbq restaurant and she wanted him to have a good time so she agreed to go out with him. Y/n only ate chicken and he knew it but it was something she wanted for Chan so he was ecstatic when she said yes to the plan. He enjoyed the food and her company, they talked about work and people who got on their nerves. He had beef while she opted for jajangmyeon (with chicken ofc). Seeing Chan happy and eating to his fullest made her happy and content. There's nothing more she wanted. Chan looked at her with loving eyes till his gaze focused on someone behind her and his eyes widened. He got up with a huge smile and went to meet the said person, leaving her confused. Y/N looked back to where Chan had gone and her heart sank when she saw Sana, his old friend and former label mate. Sana and Chan had been close since they were trainees and they maintained their friendship for over 10 years. Y/N understood their connection and tried her best to accept it but Sana made her feel insecure about herself, she was prettier and more successful than her and she had a strong friendship with Chan even if they didn't keep in touch for a long time.

Y/N felt frustrated and annoyed that Sana showed up out of nowhere and Chan was giving her his undivided attention. They talked for some time, while y/n sat alone at their table, till he brought Sana to meet her. Y/N stood up to meet her and was suddenly conscious of how effortlessly pretty Sana was.

"hey how have you been?" Sana politely asked.

"very busy haha, we rarely get time to go out like this" y/n replied, hoping she'd get the hint.

"come on you should join us" Chan insisted.

Y/N smiled on the outside but screamed on the inside. She desperately hoped Sana would decline.

"oh I was waiting for Yuta and Momo here, we have work to discuss. I'll hang out with you guys another time." she explained with a smile.

Y/N knew Sana was a good person and posed no threat but the insecurity and jealousy made her lose her mind. The last bit on sanity she had went down the drain when Chan and Sana hugged, before she left. It wasn't a quick hug, it was an embrace that lasted a few moments. Y/N felt like ripping the hair from her scalp. She wanted to scream and whine like a baby, and for Chan to take care of her and give her attention.

Y/N didn't speak much after Sana left and only listened to Chan talk about his trainee days and friendship with her. Great. Now he was discussing her. Chan was oblivious to her emotions and kept talking. He didn't even notice her mood when they went home. She didn't say much and went to bed after showering.

The next morning Chan told her that his family was coming to Korea for 2 weeks and would be staying with them. She smiled and told him she'll happily make arrangements for them. Chan was thankful, while y/n decided to bottle her feelings and move on.

That is until, Chan brought up Sana again and said he wanted to invite her over to meet his family. That annoyed her to no end. She was filled with rage and finally spoke.

"why? what does Sana have to do with this?" she asked in an annoyed voice.

Chan noticed it and furrowed his brows.

"why not? she's my best friend I want her to meet my family."

"no Chris, she's not a part of this family and doesn't need to be involved in any of this."

"why are you against her? She's been my friend for a long time and you knew it, it's not like she popped out of nowhere."

"just because she's your friend, doesn't mean she has to be a part of our personal time."

"you don't need to be against the idea."

"I'm giving you a valid argument and you don't want to hear it because you suddenly met her and won't stop thinking or talking about her!"

"hey chill out. Why are you insecure about this, you're the wife and she's the friend."

"well excuse me for being upset after seeing you hug a woman right in front of my salad!"

"she's my friend and nothing else! Don't turn this into something weird."

"I'm not turning this into something weird. Why can't you see the problem? I didn't like you hugging her at all! I don't want her to be around you and touch you!"

"that's it! Do I make a big deal when you hang out with Seonghwa? I don't because I'm not jealous or insecure."

It made you angry that Chan could see right through you.

"that's because you know I won't ever hug him because I respect our relationship and boundaries."

"you're making a huge deal out of nothing."

"no I'm not, you're gaslighting me!"

Chan angrily got up and sped to the door.

"we'll talk when you calm down and think about what you've said." he said and left.

Y/N sat at the table, thinking over the fight. She didn't think she was wrong and didn't understand why Chan wouldn't see the problem.

She stayed home for the next six hours, waiting for Chan to return.

He came home and sat next to her on the couch.

"are you feeling better now?" he asked.

Y/N turned to face him.

"yes. Do you see the problem now?"

"sweetheart, there is no problem. You need to understand that."

"Chris how can we resolve this if we don't see the problem?"

Chan was annoyed and angry beyond belief.

"I don't want to waste my energy over this stupid fight. Do whatever you want." he stated and went to bed.

Y/N felt angry and scared. She went after him and tried talking to him but he didn't give her any answer. He pretended like she wasn't there.

"okay fine, ignore me all you want. At least act normal in front of your family." she reasoned.

But Chan stayed quiet and turned the other way.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH9

This is the first new chapter! Every last bit of it has never been read before (except by me and my betas)! What nefarious schemes will Adrien and Chloe try? Find out below!

Previous    First      Next      AO3

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Chapter 9: Emperor’s New Clothes

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Adrien asked as Chloe adjusted her wig. He peeked over the railing to the courtyard below with a frown. All of their classmates were gathered, enjoying their break—completely unsuspecting of what was about to commence.

“Of course it’ll work. These people are idiots who will believe anything.” Chloe snapped her compact shut and tossed it into her purse. “If they had any sort of intelligence, they would have seen right through Lila by now.”

“Yeah, but what if they-” Chloe pressed a finger to his lips.

“Just leave this to me, Adrikins. Being mean isn’t exactly your area of expertise.” She patted his cheek. “Little Miss Lie-la is about to be exposed. Now get into position!”

Adrien swallowed hard before climbing down the stairs to stand by the science lab door. Even though he agreed to help Chloe get back at Lila, he wasn’t entirely ready to deal with the guilt that came with it. Lila was a menace, and her lies needed to stop—that much Adrien could agree with, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his skin crawl.

To justify going through with it, he reminded himself why he’d agreed to help in the first place. Marinette didn’t deserve to be pushed away from her friends, and freeing them from Lila’s grasp would help her move on. This was for Marinette, and on those terms only, he could accept it.

“Hello, everyone! It’s me, your favorite superheroine, Ladybug!” Chloe called into the courtyard as she descended the stairs, and every head turned to face her.

“Is that Ladybug?”

“It is Ladybug!”

“Is there an akuma?”

Adrien hung back with a wince as a crowd gathered around her. This was for Marinette. Lila needed to be stopped. He agreed to this.

“Yo, Ladybug, what are you doing here?” Nino asked.

Chloe placed a hand on her hip. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood being a super amazing superheroine and protecting Paris from akumas, and I thought I’d stop in and visit my bff. So where exactly is Lila Rossi?” Chloe pressed a hand over her eyes and scanned the courtyard.

“She’s over here!” Alya waved. Despite Lila’s best efforts to shrink behind Alya, her new bestie wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to talk to Ladybug.

“Ah, there you are, my bff. It’s been so long since we’ve last seen each other. You remember? That time I saved your life, and we became instant bffs?” Chloe crossed her fingers. “You haven’t returned my calls, so I was starting to get worried.”

“Lila’s been out of the country until recently, and she’s been super busy catching up on school ever since she got back,” Alya explained. She patted Lila’s shoulder with a beam, and Lila offered a sheepish grin in return.

“Uh, yeah…” Lila’s face blanched.

They had her cornered. This was actually working! Maybe Adrien wouldn’t have to get involved after all.

“Oh, right, you went to Achu to visit Prince Ali. Funny though, I talked to Prince Ali yesterday—his assistant wanted to make sure that Paris was safe for his upcoming visit, so naturally they called me—I asked him how your visit went, and he didn’t remember inviting you to come to his palace.” Chloe cupped her cheek in one hand. “How weird is that?”

“Wait, what?” Everyone turned to look at Lila who stiffened, and a smirk curled on Chloe’s lips.

“But you were gone for over a month, Lila. I thought you said Prince Ali invited you to come stay with him,” Rose said. She hugged her scrapbook full of Prince Ali magazine clippings to her chest.

“He did!”

“But Ladybug just said he didn’t.” Alix crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, she must be mistaken,” Lila said. “I’m your friend. Why would I lie to you?”

“Ladybug is a superhero. She’d never lie to us either.”

“What’s the truth then?”

“Yeah, Lila, tell us the truth.” Chloe egged. “Or perhaps you’d prefer to hear it from someone else? I’ve got a pretty killer witness. Adrikins, be a dear and come over here.”

Adrien hesitated, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t go through with this. Even though Lila deserved it, he couldn’t bring himself to call her out like this in front of everyone. There had to be another way.

“Wait a second, Adrikins?” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we have to wonder who’s telling the truth, do we, Chloe?”

“What? I’m not Chloe! She has way better hair than I, Ladybug, do. Plus she’s way funnier, prettier, smarter, and hey!” She spun around as Kim ripped off her wig.

“Ugh, we should have known,” Alya said. “You’re just upset because Lila beat you for class rep. Honestly, Chloe, grow up!”

“Yeah, Chloe, this is super lame.”

“Why do you always gotta pick on people?”

“You just can’t stand that someone’s getting more attention than you.”

Chloe shot Adrien a cutting glare as if to say, “Get out here and do your part,” but Adrien shot her an apologetic wince before ducking into the science lab.

“What are you doing? You can still stop that girl,” Plagg said when Adrien pulled his shirt aside.

“I panicked. I don’t want it to go down like this,” Adrien said. He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “I just can’t do it.”

“So you’re just going to let her keep using everyone?” Plagg asked.

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Transform me!”

“Nice try, Chloe, but Lila won fair and square,” Nino said when Chat Noir landed in the courtyard.

Chloe blew a piece of hair from her face grumpily. “You all are so stupid if you actually believe anything she says. Even Dupain-Cheng realized she was a liar. I don’t want to be your class representative anyway. You’re all so lame.”

“The only liar here is you, Ladybug,” Alix said, and Kim waved her black wig over her head tauntingly.

“Lila is a liar! Ask Adrien. He can tell you!” Chloe’s cheeks flushed an angry red.

“Dude, leave Adrien alone.” Nino groaned, shaking his head. “Just admit you’re jealous, so we can all go home.”

“I’m really sorry if I’ve upset you, Chloe. If you want, I can talk to Mlle. Bustier about letting you be the class rep instead if it means so much to you. I don’t want us to fight,” Lila said humbly.

“Liar!” Chloe stomped her foot.

“I’m not lying! I promise,” Lila said. She held up her right hand for emphasis.

“Oh really?” Every head turned around as Chat Noir laid his staff across his shoulders.

“Yo, it’s Chat Noir! Like for real this time!”

“What are you doing here, Chat Noir?” Alya pulled out her phone to record.

“I heard that m’lady was making a house call, so I thought I’d come by and make sure everything was in order.” He cast a smirk in Chloe’s direction. “But it looks like someone just wanted to play dress-up.”

Goading Chloe probably wasn’t his smartest move, seeing as she was absolutely going to kill Adrien for chickening out, but he needed everyone on his side. Taking cheap shots at Chloe was always an instant crowd-pleaser.

“So, since you’re so honest, is there anything you’d like to share with the class?” he asked Lila. “Now would be a good time to get anything that your friends don’t know about you off your chest.”

She didn’t seem deterred by his presence at all, eyes glinting with amusement. Chat Noir bristled, grip tightening on his staff. Lila held no remorse for any of her actions, and she’d cling to her lies until the very end. Chat Noir bit his tongue hard as she turned to everyone else and plastered on a pout.

“There is something I want to tell all of you…” She clasped her hands over her heart. “I’ve been hesitant because I know you all have mixed feelings, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“What?” Chat Noir and Chloe said in unison.

“Why do you say that, Lila?” Alya asked.

“Well, the other day on my way home I saw Chloe going to Marinette’s house, and now she’s here calling me a liar just like Marinette used to do,” Lila said, letting her face fall into her hands. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve to be treated this way.”

Everyone crowded closer to her offering their sympathy as alligator tears rolled down her cheeks, and a host of cutting glares aimed at Chloe. They should have planned for something like this. Lila always bent the truth to suit herself.

Rage boiled in Chat’s core, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to tackle Lila to the ground. How could anyone be so despicable?  

“Hang on,” he said firmly, forcing his shoulders to relax. “I’ve met Marinette a few times, and she doesn’t seem like that type of girl.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s true either, Lila,” Alix spoke up. “I mean, Chloe and Marinette hate each other. Chloe would rather die than set foot in her house.”

Alya pursed her lips and turned to Chloe. “Is it true? Did you go to Marinette’s house?”

Chloe averted her gaze, crossing her arms over her chest. “I did go to see Dupain-Cheng at her tiny, disgusting hovel, but…she refused to help me—stupid little goody-two-shoes,” Chloe said. She met Alya’s gaze head-on and squared her jaw. “But with friends like you, I’m starting to see why she left. She was nothing but nice to you losers, and yet you’d so easily believe that she’d help me get back at someone. You’re all so pathetic.”

“The only pathetic one here is you, Chloe. Lila’s never done anything. None of us have! We’re sick and tired of putting up with your crud,” Nathaniel said, and several classmates echoed their agreement.

“Whatever. I don’t want to be your class representative anyway if you’re all too stupid to tell the difference between a diamond and a lump of coal.” Chloe flipped her hair over her shoulder, hips swaying as she stalked to the locker room.

Chat Noir almost chased after her, but his staff beeped with a message from Ladybug. There was an akuma across town. Chloe was going to have to wait.

♪♫♪ Broken Pieces Shine ♪♫♪

Marinette chewed her pencil, tilting her head to examine her designs from different angles. Clara’s deadline was still several weeks away, but she already had tons of ideas. Would Clara like a tasteful pantsuit or a flowing gown? Which one said ‘award-winner?’ Maybe if she added a sash or changed up the neckline…

The lunchroom bustled several simultaneous conversations, condensed into a uniform hum in Marinette’s ears while she worked. She was vaguely aware of her friends at the table with her, but when Macy leaned in to get a closer look at what she was working on, she still jumped.

“Ooo, are those for you-know-who?” she asked.

“Shh!” Marinette covered her sketchbook and glanced around to ensure no one had overheard. “Yes, but they’re not final. I’m just playing around with some ideas.”

“I like them,” Macy said. “Look at this one, Eliott. Eliott?”

He was unusually quiet that day, but Marinette had been too enthralled in her own work to notice. His nose was buried in a booklet, seemingly as engrossed in it as Marinette had been with her designs. He only looked up when Macy stuck her hand in front of his face.

“What?” He blinked.

“Marinette is designing top-secret things, and she needs opinions,” Macy said.

“Can’t you ask Martin?” he asked.

Macy gave him an incredulous look. “Martin left 10 minutes ago to go work with his group on their science project. Weren’t you listening?” She scolded. Though in Eliott’s defense, Marinette hadn’t noticed either.

“Oh, sorry. Guess I was distracted.” He closed the cover but marked the page with his finger. “So what do you need?”

Macy shook her head, taking a bite of her cake. “You two are such space cadets today.”

“What are you studying, Eliott?” Marinette asked. She tilted her head to get a better look at the cover.

“I’m in a community play, and we have rehearsal tonight,” he said nonchalantly.

“Wow, that’s so awesome! What part did you get?”

“Oh, it’s nothing special…” Eliott sat back with a smirk and shrugged.

“He’s being modest. He’s playing one of the leads, and he’s super excited about it. He memorized his lines in like 3 days, but he always reads over the script again before rehearsals.” Macy finished her cake and stood up. “I’m gonna get another drink. Help Marinette with her designs!”

“Fine, but can you get me a slice of that cake, please?” Eliott requested. He pressed his palms together with a smile. Macy rolled her eyes but headed for the dessert stand anyway.

“So, you got a lead role. What play are you guys doing?” Marinette asked, and Eliott tossed her the script.

Miraculous! The Battle of Heroes’ Day

“Oh, so it’s about Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Marinette said with as much casualty as she could muster. “Wait, if you’re playing a lead role then that means…”

“You guessed it, m’lady.” He winked.

Marinette bit back a laugh. The director definitely cast the right person. Put Eliott in a blond wig, and even she’d believe he was Chat Noir.

“That’s so awesome! When is it opening? I’d love to come watch.” She passed back the script, and he found his page again.

“Not for a couple more weeks, but if you want, I can see about getting you into one of our dress rehearsals soon,” he offered.

“Really? Yeah, I’d love to.”

Macy returned with Eliott’s slice of cake, but not before Gabrielle locked on target. “Did you save any cake for the rest of us? No wonder your uniform looks so tight these days.”

When Macy froze, Marinette turned to Gabrielle with a glare. “She got it for Eliott because some people don’t spend all of their time thinking about themselves.”

“I think about other people all the time,” Gabrielle said with a wicked grin. “I’ve actually been feeling sorry for Macy after Simon rejected her three weeks ago. If only she were prettier, then maybe Eliott would be more than just a friend.”

“Eliott and I aren’t like that.” Macy shot back.

“Clearly,” Gabrielle said with a grunt. “Tell me, Eliott. Have you ever thought about dating Macy?”

“Well, no, but-”

Gabrielle threw her head back with a laugh, and Macy’s cheeks flushed a deep red. She stormed from the cafeteria, tears bubbling in her eyes. Gabrielle watched her go with a triumphant smirk that made Marinette’s blood boil.

“You should go after her,” Marinette said to Eliott.

“Trust me, she doesn’t want to see me after that.” He shrugged and returned to his script.

“How can you say that? She’s your best friend, and best friends should always be there for each other no matter what!” Marinette slammed her palm on the table, but when Eliott refused to look at her, her jaw clenched. “You’re wrong. I think you’re the exact person Macy wants to see right now.” She didn’t wait for his reply before gathering her sketchbook and chasing after Macy.

The halls were empty and quiet, the chorus of chatter from the cafeteria fading as Marinette raced down the stairs. Macy was nowhere in sight, and Marinette didn’t know where to begin looking for her. After a week, Marinette was still learning her way around—not to mention still learning her new friends.

If it were Alya, Marinette knew exactly where to look, which treat from the bakery would always cheer her up, and as a last resort, where she was ticklish. She didn’t have those ins with Macy yet.

Eliott would know.

Eliott… How could he sit by while his friend was upset? Didn’t he care about her at all? If they really were best friends, then why didn’t he stand up for her and believe her when she said she was hurt? It was so obvious that Gabrielle just wanted attention. How could he let her come between them? Why did he let her walk away? Shouldn’t he chase after his best friend and make sure she was okay? Isn’t that what friends were supposed to do?

Marinette leaned against a row of lockers, shoulders heaving and tears stinging her eyes. Wasn’t she a good friend? Didn’t she always take care of everyone? So why would they turn their backs on her? How could they leave her all alone?

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s blazer.

Marinette sat on the floor with a sigh, resting her head against the lockers. “It just gets so hard,” she whispered. “Always being there for everyone. Being the one to fix everything for everyone. Sometimes I just wonder… who will be there to fix me when I need it?”

“You’ve got me,” Tikki said. She floated up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “And your parents, Master Fu, Adrien.”

Marinette smiled at that, petting Tikki’s bulbous head with one finger. “Thanks, Tikki. I needed a friend.”

Screams echoed up the hall, and Marinette jumped to her feet. Shaking off the last of her doubts, she slapped her cheeks and took a deep breath. She wasn’t alone, and she would make sure her friends never were either.

“That sounded like it came from the cafeteria. I think it’s safe to say we know where Macy is,” Marinette said. “Transform me!”

Terrified teens with crooked teeth and unibrows rushed past as Ladybug entered the cafeteria. All around the room, her classmates cowered from the akuma zeroing in on Gabrielle in the center. Macy had become the perfect porcelain doll carrying a mirror in her hands—no doubt where the akuma was hiding.

Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Gabrielle’s shoulders and tugged her to safety, even if she deserved whatever punishment Macy was about to give her.  “Get somewhere safe,” she ordered.

“Duh,” Gabrielle said. Ever the gracious one.

“You’re welcome.” Ladybug rolled her eyes as Gabrielle raced off.

With Gabrielle out of the way, the akuma settled for Thomas. She held her mirror in front of him, and his handsome face broke out in angry red zits. The misshapen students fleeing the cafeteria all made sense. Gabrielle told Macy she wasn’t attractive, so now she was making everyone else look the part instead.

“You shouldn’t have let her get away, Ladybug. I think everyone here would like to know what she’s ashamed of,” the akuma said.

While that much might have been true, Ladybug wasn’t in the business of agreeing with one of Hawkmoth’s villains. “Revenge is never the answer, Macy. You’re better than this. Let me help you.”

“I’m not Macy anymore. My name is Mirror-Mirror!” she shouted. Her glassy eyes bore all of her pain, the real Macy screaming inside. “If you want to help me, then give me your Miraculous!”

Ladybug dodged her strike, flipping backward onto a table. Mirror-Mirror wasted no time charging in again and again, the destructive force of her anguish taking its toll on the cafeteria. It was impossible to get a hit in edgewise without seeing herself in the mirror, and Chat Noir hadn’t turned up yet.

“Kitty, I’m battling an akuma, and I really need your help! Where are you?” Ladybug spoke into her yoyo phone. Looks like she’d have to navigate this one on her own. “Lucky Charm!”

A slingshot seemed straight forward enough, but what could she use as ammo? Nothing stood out, and in her moment of distraction, she barely dodged a flying table. Her lucky charm skittered across the floor as she stumbled into her landing, and Mirror-Mirror closed in.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall, what darkest fears hide in us all?”

“No!” Ladybug tried to shield her face, but it was too late. Her eyes locked with her reflection, and she sank to her knees, all of the fight leaving her body.

What was happening? Everyone else got pimples or big feet, so why couldn’t she move? If Macy’s mirror made everyone unattractive, then why? Why did she feel so…helpless?

What darkest fears hide in us all?

Of course! Her mirror didn’t just make people unattractive. It turned them into the thing they’re most ashamed of—the parts of themselves they hid from the world. And what was Ladybug ashamed of? Failing? Perhaps. Having her identity exposed? Probably.

But as Mirror-Mirror reached for her earrings, their eyes locked, and she saw what she truly feared. The mirror didn’t take her powers. It took her will to fight. More than anything she wanted to save Macy. To save Alya. Her friends. Everyone. But her legs refused to move.

Ladybug’s greatest fear wasn’t losing. It was being powerless to help the people she loved most.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered, head falling.

Mirror-Mirror’s fingers closed around her earrings, but before she could remove them, Chat Noir’s staff struck her side, sending her flying into the wall.

“Ladybug!” He rushed to her side. “Sorry it took so long, m’lady. Are you alright?”

“No.” She shook her head.

Chat Noir cast a nervous glance at Mirror-Mirror as she stood up. “Come on. We’ve gotta move.”

“I can’t,” Ladybug repeated.

“Are you hurt?” Chat Noir bent one of her knees. “M’lady? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t save her, Chat Noir.”

He searched her expression before scooping her up and leaping out of the way of another attack. He set her down gently and brandished his staff. Would he leave her one day too? What if she couldn’t protect him either?

No. That was ridiculous. Chat Noir would always have her back.

You thought Alya would have your back too. Look how that turned out.

That was different. Lila was manipulating her.

Who’s to say a villain couldn’t do the same to Chat Noir? He could turn his back on you.

He wouldn’t.

But he could.

Ladybug squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against the darkness clouding her mind. Ever since she became Ladybug, she’d always relied on her head to get through tough situations. Now even her own thoughts were working against her. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Macy needed her help. She needed to save her friends.

Mirror-Mirror kicked Chat Noir in the gut, spreading him on his back. His staff rolled into Ladybug’s feet as Mirror-Mirror closed in. She needed to help him, but her legs wouldn’t budge. Her lucky charm was only a few yards away. If she moved now, she could reach it before Mirror-Mirror changed Chat Noir too.

But what was the point? Even if she did reach it in time, she still hadn’t figured out what to do with it. This battle was over.

“Hey, Macy!”  Eliott stood in the doorway, shoulders squared and head high. His hands were balled into tight fists to hide how they shook as he approached.

Ladybug assumed he ran away after getting zapped just like everyone else, but he looked completely normal. She hadn’t seen him since she left to find Macy, so he should have been in the cafeteria when Mirror-Mirror first attacked. Had he gone to look for Macy after all?

Mirror-Mirror abandoned Chat Noir, freeing him to rush to Ladybug’s side. He retrieved her lucky charm on the way and placed it in her hands. “Come on, Ladybug. Think.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you earlier,” Eliott said, and when she raised her mirror, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Go ahead if it will make you feel better, but it’s not going to do you any good.”

When Eliott remained unchanged, she lowered the mirror with a growl. “Why isn’t it working?”

“Because I’m already the thing I’m most ashamed of,” Eliott said. “I was a bad friend to you, and that hurts me more than anything else ever could. Marinette was right. Friends should never turn their backs on one another, and that’s why I’m never going to abandon you again.”

“LB.” Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Eliott hadn’t abandoned Macy, and Chat Noir wasn’t abandoning her. Not all friendships were destined to fail. So long as she held onto her faith in the people she loved, everything would be alright.

Ladybug turned the slingshot over in her hands. If she combined it with Chat Noir’s staff… She loaded the slingshot and aimed for the pillar diagonally across from them. The staff ricocheted off the wall, soaring right into the mirror. The glass shattered, and a black butterfly fluttered out.

Chat Noir pulled her to her feet, and she captured the akuma with one swipe of her yoyo. She took a deep breath as Miraculous Ladybug returned everything to normal, the last traces of her insecurities fading. When Chat Noir offered her a fist, she stretched up to hug his neck instead—he didn’t complain.

As Hawkmoth’s magic faded, Macy collapsed forward into Eliott’s arms. “What happened?” she groaned.

“You were akumatized, but I’ve got you,” he said gently.

Students filed back into the cafeteria, cheering for another victory over Hawkmoth. Gabrielle stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed over her chest, and Eliott eyed her with a frown.

“I know I should have stood up for you, but Gabrielle didn’t let me finish,” he said. “You’re not just a friend to me, Macy. You’re my family, so of course I’ve never thought of you that way.” When Gabrielle rolled her eyes, he continued, “I think this has shown us that we all have things about ourselves that we don’t like, and just because I’ve never seen you that way doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re really beautiful, Mace.”

Macy hugged his neck, prompting more cheers from their classmates. Ladybug and Chat Noir used the noise as cover to slip silently out the door.

♪♫♪ Stall Me ♪♫♪

The day was over when Adrien made it back to school. Most of the students had already gone home, and he believed Chloe had too until he rounded the corner to his locker. He was going to have to face her eventually, though he hoped to delay it a while longer.

She didn’t say anything, but he knew that look all too well. Arms crossed, hip cocked, lips pursed. It was the same look she gave her butler when he took too long to bring her sushi, and Adrien lowered his head like a puppy awaiting a scolding.

“Chloe, I-”

“Oh, now you want to speak.” She quirked a brow.

“I’m sorry!”

“What happened?” She demanded. “I needed your help, and you didn’t have my back. We could have exposed her!”

He averted his gaze. “I know.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?”

“It just didn’t feel right. I panicked.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Next time I’ll do better. I promise.”

“Next time? No one in this school is going to believe anything we say about her now because you chickened out!” She jabbed his chest with her finger. “I hope your conscience is happy. You made me look ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Maybe I should leave like Dupain-Cheng.”

“Chloe-”

“No! No more excuses. If you really want to stop Lila, then call me when you’re actually ready to do something,” Chloe said. With a flip of her ponytail, she shoved past him.

Adrien leaned against his locker with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. Mirror-Mirror didn’t have to show him what he was ashamed of—he already knew. He was a coward, and now everything was ruined.

[crystalgirl259]

Guilty Pleasures Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Noah’s Ark

It would be over three thousand years before Zane met the strange demon known as Kai again. In those years the human race had grown at a rapid rate and had taken over pretty much the entire planet. Zane couldn't help but wonder if the human's sudden growth was always part of the plan or if the weapons he and Kai had gifted Adam and Eve had had a hand with it and aided in their expansion. Zane shuddered as he thought about the weapons from Heaven and Hell.

After he had sealed the Garden of Eden, the Almighty had only asked him once where the shurikens were and thankfully he managed to convince them that they were in the garden somewhere.

He had tried to find the two weapons in later years but it seemed that they had been lost to time. The angel was standing among a large crowd, watching as Noah finished building his ark. Noah's family had begun to lead the pairs of animals on board. While most of the crowd laughed and jeered at the man, Zane was just barely managing to keep the bile down, knowing what was coming. He wanted so desperately to warn the people, to tell them Noah was telling the truth and that they needed to find boats.

But at the same time, he knew that they wouldn't listen and that it was too late anyway.

Before they finished even a small boat the flood would come and wash them all away. As the angel wrestled with his thoughts, he suddenly felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to see Kai standing beside him with a big grin on his face. The demon hadn't changed at all since Zane had last seen him. The only different thing was the brunette's missing wings that had been hidden, much like Zane's own wings.

"Hello, Zane." Kai greeted warmly and Zane wondered what had drawn the demon here.

"Kai," Zane replied awkwardly. He still didn't know how to properly interact with a demon, even if this one didn't come off as a threat right away.

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword and icy shurikens, how do you think that worked out for us?" Kai asked with what Zane could swear was a mischievous purr.

"The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again." He replied, trying to keep his attention on the boat.

"Probably a good thing." He shrugged as he looked around at the crowd and back at the boat. "So what's all this about? Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo?" He asked and Zane had took swallow the lump in his throat as he thought of a response.

"From what I hear, God's a bit tetchy and is wiping out the human race... with a big storm." He stammered, catching the demon off-guard.

"All of them?"

"Just the locals." Zane tried to smile, but it was so strained even Kai could see through it. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese, or the Native Americans, or the Australians."

"Yet."

"And God's not going to wipe out all the locals; I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they're all going to be fine." He tried to reassure, but it had little to no effect on the brunette.

"But they're drowning everybody else?" He scoffed as he looked around at the crowd who were ignorant to their impending doom. His eyes widened when he saw a small group of kids running and playing in the crowd. "You can't kill children." He gasped in horror when Zane reluctantly nodded, snake eyes wide open. Not even a demon would kill a child. Why kill something when they wouldn't go to hell, anyway? Something that couldn't defend itself.

It wasn't logical.

It wasn't fair either, he thought. But only very quietly to himself. Zane had looked so helpless, but he hadn't agreed with the demon. At least he hadn't said it out loud. Although something had been in the angels' beautiful eyes. Kai liked to imagine that it was doubt. Still, he knew that having exactly that could be extremely dangerous. One doesn't simply doubt the great plan. Kai wanted to save the children. He did. The reason why he wanted to do that was far apart from any comprehension.

It couldn't be that wrong or right or whatever.

Only that way the children could grow old and be bad and ultimately go to hell, and that should be hells' only concern, anyway. He observed the Ark from every side. It was huge. Much bigger than a house, and much bigger than a dune, and much bigger than any animal climbing aboard. There should be more than enough space for everything and more. Also, the other unicorn was still missing. Kai wasn't too concerned, they still had the other one.

An idea started to form, as he observed the Ark.

There were a lot of animals and no one was paying as much attention to them as they should. A unicorn had already gotten away, anyway. Maybe, just maybe, this could also work the other way around. There should be enough space...

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

Zane felt bad. He felt as bad as he never did before. He felt even too bad to listen to his conscience, which tried to tell him something. It couldn't be that important, though. The fresh air didn't make it better. The angel was the first one to discover seasickness. On the third evening, Zane sat outside between a flamingo and a gazelle and tried to keep the contents of his dinner where they belonged.

"Snowflake, are you ok?" Kai asked, suddenly standing between him and the flamingo. The flamingo watched him suspiciously with his head tilted.

"Oh, I'm fine," Zane answered bravely.

"Are you sure? The light makes you look a bit greenish." He said and the angel tried not to stare at the demon's long and probably soft hair in the wind and falling into his eyes.

"Maybe a bit tired." He said, clinging onto the railing.

"Tired?"

"Tired." He repeated. Kai had never seen an angel getting sick before. Maybe it was Gods' anger that made it that way. Maybe it was something entirely different. Either way, the demon was worried. It was a huge ark. There were near to no waves at all. Which meant, the floor was practically not shaking any bit. Zane glanced at him, help to seek. The angel sighed dramatically once more.

"I'll make you some ginger tea." The demon finally said.

"I'll feel miserable till the end of-"

"You'll be fine in two or three days, trust me." The demon assured him. Zane took a step forward, then let himself fall against the railing again and got even greener if possible. "What did you eat?" Kai asked as he took the angel carefully by the arm.

"Some tuna I think," Zane admitted reluctantly.

"Bad idea." He sighed as he shook his head. Zane flinched at the word bad. "Let's go inside, ok?" The demon suggested as he half carried him inside. His hands felt hot, but also his touch was strangely calming, and maybe just a little bit nice. "What do you usually do to calm yourself down, angel?" He asked reluctantly. This made the angel jump a bit. Then he looked to the ceiling with a pinch of guilt, as they slowly walked down the stairs and deeper into the Ark.

"I read or write something."

"You should stop that."

"I will do no such thing!" Zane cried as he ripped his arm away and a moment later he grabbed for Kai again because he almost fell over a big rat.

"I mean you should stop that as long as you feel bad." Kai chuckled lightly as he brought the angel back to his cabin which he shared with different breeds of pigeon and two friendly brown chickens.

"Will you read something for me? Please?" Zane asked as he snuggled into a blanket. Kai hesitated for a moment, but then he grabbed a scroll that was lying next to Zane's bed. How could he say no? The angel looked at him expectantly. The scroll was made of dried leaves and the tiny symbols looked like they were written with blood. Since the demon couldn't read, he had to improvise. He sat down next to the angel, not too close but not too far, opened the scroll from the wrong side, and began to tell a story.

Zane closed his eyes and smiled so sweetly that it made Kai almost forget how words work.

But he took a deep breath and continued his story bravely. Kai kept talking quietly over the singing of some budgies, the yawning tiger, the cheeping degu until Zane calmed down enough to not sleep but dream. After he had made sure that Zane was feeling better, the demon left him alone, although he desperately wanted to stay. But he had other things to do...

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

Zane had rested for hours and was now refreshed. The angel felt much stronger, although still shaky. But now he was bored and he had been thinking about Kai for a while now. For some reason he couldn't explain, he just wanted to see him again. Preferably sooner than later.

"Kai? Where are you? Could you... Could you read me another story, please?" He shouted as loud as he dared, which wasn't very loud, as he approached the section where there were zebras, some apes, and a few butterflies. It was quite dark. Only a few candles lit this section. There he found Kai, but the demon didn't look pleased to see him.

"Wait a moment, Snowflake; don't come here." He said, sounding nervous.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Zane asked and went there, anyway. Just then, a young girl that had been hiding in the shadows and he had almost walked into ran and hid behind Kai. He stared at a terrifying demon surrounded by small children, mouth agape. Two were holding his hands and one was sitting on his shoulders, badly braiding his long hair with tiny and probably not very clean fingers. In the background, they heard a hog making some unhappy sounds.

"What did you do?!" Zane almost hissed.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Kai said, trying to act innocent.

"I'm talking about the children! Where do they come from?"

"Oh.. hey... I haven't even noticed them."

"Kai." Zane scowled as he crossed his arms. He uncrossed them again, however, because he needed them for stability. He felt himself getting sick again. Was the floor getting shakier?

"You can't kill children." The demon finally said softly.

"WE CAN'T- can't keep them here." He insisted, trying to keep his tone down as the small girl sitting on Kai's shoulders started crying.

"What do you intend to do? Throw them overboard? Does the ineffable plan tell you to do that?" Kai snarled and for a moment their eyes were locked. Zane then sighed and fixed his gaze on the floorboards as the demon glared at him.

"What now, angel?"

"No, I don't –Do you even know how to take care of children?"

"Do you?" Kai asked sarcastically.

"No, I don't…"

"Me neither." The demon sighed. Zane watched the kids held Kai's hands and hid behind him. He quickly realized that they were afraid of the angel. After a moment of careful consideration, ha decided that he didn't want them to fear an angel. He was supposed to be the good one. "Do you think about snitching?" Kai asked, his voice sounded somehow hurt.

"No, I- I thought, that we both don't know how to take care of children, but maybe we could learn it together." He offered awkwardly. At first, the demon felt like he was petrified, but then he sighed.

"If you want to, yeah, whatever; you look for something to feed them and maybe a bit of clean water and Ava over there wants to see the unicorn so I'll go with her and show her if you keep an eye on the others for a while because I can't take all of them there because Amon over there is scared of horses and I don't know how he will react to a unicorn." He shrugged and Zane nodded. They had never taken care of living beings, before. Okay, not really.

But they learned quickly and all the children survived.

Kai in his snake form would curl around the children to keep them warm. Zane would cook something nutritious for them to eat. He would eat most of it, but they're also would be more than enough for the children. After that, they would talk. Tell stories on a stormy night to calm everyone down. Mostly the angel, because the shaking of the ark didn't make him feel good. Still, his stomach would get upset from time to time.

"I'm glad, you were there," Zane said one night quietly, as they watched over the children sleeping. Kai didn't answer. He picked up a beautiful feather of a parakeet and gently put it in Zane's hair.

"I gave the Mammoths' ration to the children; I mean... it's a huge animal, so it should be fine without one dinner." He said casually after a while. Then the angel wondered, when the last time was, that he fed the mammoths. It couldn't be this long ago. The Ark would have a little fewer passengers when it arrived than when it started sailing. But the children would all survive and grow to be adults. Raised by an angel and a demon, all of them got to be fundamentally human.

Lurking between the goats, there was a second demon which none of the other beings noticed.

Even then he had smelled bad, but to be completely honest, everywhere on the Ark it smelled pretty bad. Between lurking sessions, he enjoyed scaring the birds. There were a few penguins that he didn't like. One had bitten his hand when he tried to pet it. Therefore Morro made the penguin stop flying. All the other birds hated him for that. Sometimes he also scared some children. But weren't there more than there were supposed to be? One time he saw the demon Kai holding the hand of a small girl as she cried.

After a while, she stopped crying as he talked to her calmingly and fell asleep in Kai's arms.

This confused Morro. Why would he do that? This was the first time when Morro suspected something. He didn't like it. Something was going on, something fishy, and it wasn't the fish. He couldn't prove it though, not just yet. He didn't know how to yet. But he was lurking in the shadows, ready to strike. Still, he was new to the job, but he gave his best and already could do an impressive amount of lurking in a day or preferably at night...

[maemi324]

The Rescue

Hello there! Welcome to my first ever BNHA Reader insert!  Reader has a quirk named Harpy. Essentially they can scream really well and that makes the primal part of peoples brains sort of act up and make them freeze, if not only for how loud the sound is. They then use their talons (which are retractable) to go in for the kill.  Warnings: Violence, some blood, brief mention of drug use. Kidnapping.  I think that’s everything. If I’ve missed something please let me know and I’ll add it to the list!

Warmth, safety, the cool breeze of an open window. The smell of his scent all around her in the darkest hours of night.

Brows furrow, two hands grasp at her legs and pull, a startled gasp all too quickly ripped from her throat. She choked, a hand with something sweet smelling pressed tightly against her mouth and nose. Before she could even process who or what had her, she was back in darkness. 

“She’s gotta look a bit beat up, otherwise they won’t think we’re serious!” “ Ya, but you can’t kill her either idiot!” Back and forth the voices went, swinging from side to side. Her body felt heavy, numb, a metallic taste in her mouth, head pounding. Her eyes turned to her arms, tied behind her back, blood dripping down from her shoulders down to her feathered arms from what she could see.

Wait...Blood? 

Blink

The men surrounding her stood up

Blink

Snarl and Hiss at her throat, talons sharp and cutting, arms free

Blink Eyes open

The room was large and dark, blinds closed so that only thin streaks of sunlight entered through the window, air strung tight as a series of groans filled the room, surrounding her. For all intents and purposes, (Y/N) couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse.

She could feel the hair on her body standing on end, the stuffiness of the room pushing down on them like needles that hissed and ached at the barest of touches.

Right, hands off, keep hands off arms. 

Shaking arms moved their sticky hands away from their positions, a rush of cold against the fresh spot- Stop! Stop please stop!- Shaking hands held out bare before her eyes, an image she couldn’t comprehend, heart beating as if echoing out from the appendages

She didn’t know where she was, just that she’d woken up in this dark place with pain singing from her back- Now bare, bleeding, one of them had a quirk? Whip, was it?- and the sides of her face.

Oh god, oh god, what’s happening? What’s happened, what’s going on? You’re not safe here, you’re not safe here, you’re not safe here-

That voice in her head was so distant, saying things through the glass of an aquarium, bubbles of red spilling out and upwards, to where?

No.

No time to ponder, she needed to get out of here, before they got up, before the enemy had time to wake up and-

The room lit up with light, a crashing, booming sound that had her arms up to guard her face, a sharp hiss slipping between sharp teeth. No.

She scrambled, nausea seeping into her arms and stomach as her heart jumped, racing so fast she could feel its beat behind her ears, 123412341234- New bodies swarmed the room, confusion in their voices- they were loud so loud, who was screaming, why did her throat hurt?  She blinked, the faces were blurred, they were below her now, hands outstretched as they came closer.

“We’ve secured the area!” “ The hostage!” “(L/N)! You’re safe now!” “Get back! Get back or you’re next!” She shrieked and snarled, watching as they clapped their hands over their ears, screams muted in agony. Her eyes narrowed at the others who fought through the pain to reach her.

She jumped down from her perch- When did I get up on a table?- launching herself at the nearest person, a sudden sense of euphoria sent something zinging through her veins and sitting sickly in her stomach as talons made contact with soft skin, pulling away wet. 

Strong hands were everywhere, reaching, grabbing, pulling, some far away part of her screamed for them to let go, let go, they burned! Arms wrapped around her torso as the soft sound of chains rang through the fog of her mind, they had her, they had her, they had her- 

Eradicatetheenemyeradicatetheenemy- 

So she screamed.

She screamed until the hands that burned dropped away, until the arms wrapped around her torso dropped, the ground thudding with the weight. She ran for the window, she couldn’t fight them all, she had to run!

She cursed, the bodies on the ground halting her path, she plowed through them as if they were nothing but wooden dolls that now barred talon scratches, but it still slowed her down, seconds mattered, this was life or death, life or  death she didn’t want to die here, she wanted- Gotta get away, gotta get away, gotta get away, need out, need out! Where is- why couldn’t she think, she needed him, she needed-

The window was just within her grasp, just a little closer-!

A large red blur- a feather?- caught her around the middle just as her talons barely scraped the windows sill. She flung backwards, a fault of her own momentum, air a distant memory as she slammed into the ground, everything going dizzyingly silent. Her vision greyed out around the edges as her senses made their way back to her, a gasp of dusty air, whatever remnants of the wall found themselves nicely jammed into her back.

She shook, talons clawing into the floor as she raised herself back up to a standing position, staring down a very familiar face.

“-(Y/N)? Are you with me?” his voice was a level of calm she couldn’t fathom right now as her heart fluttered wildly. She recognized those eyes, sweet honey laced with concern. Hawks, right when she needed him. Her eyes glanced to the ground, captors littered about the place, eyes narrowed as she glanced up at the sudden noise.

“Stand back, she’s overwhelmed!” there were more behind him, oh god there were more behind him, this wasn’t her hero, this was some apparition, this wasn’t her mate-

“No, no you’re not real!”

She turned to run again, back to the window, the feather still in its guarding place. Her body was starting to burn and ache in a new sharp way that was  flooding her senses, eyes watering. She didn’t want to die here, she was so tired, why wasn’t she stronger? Whywhywhywhy-

She gasped as the sound of debris cracked underneath his foot as he stepped forward, wings spread out before him, a brilliant red that had her attention. Her own feathers were so small compared to this, a higher level predator, the others gone behind the wings, scavengers, she was done for- “ Easy (Y/N)...”

“Get back, I won't be fooled by some quirk!”

He put his hands up in surrender, right at eye level. His baser instincts told him to fly over there and reassure his mate with his scent, calming coos while leaving the thugs to the other pros. As much as he wanted to take his feather and slice their throats individually in front of his mate, if that's what it took to make her feel safe, avenged-

His logical half knew that would rile her up more, she could put herself at risk and others. He relaxed his ruffled feathers, though still kept them spread. If she could just focus on him...that would help. The blood stains on her arms and legs, mainly coming from her back, they needed to be tended to, preferably before she passed out.

“It’s alright, no one else is moving, and neither am I, okay? Keep your eyes on me. We’re all just gonna take it slow and stay right here.” He paused, watching for any little tells of fleeing. When he was met with none, he spoke up again, “ I’m going to put my hands down now alright?” he followed through with the action, nice and slow as they went down, quickly discarding his gloves into his pockets. 

She was shaking, shivering, the adrenaline was starting to wear off. She flinched at the sound of more debris falling, a grunt telling him someone wounded had slipped from it. He kept his gaze on (Y/N) making no move to address the noise behind him.

“I can prove to you I’m the real deal.” She looked doubtful but she didn’t say anything. He knew she was preserving what little energy she had to flee or fight again if she had to.

“I know that your favorite color is (F/C). I know you hate it when i steal the last piece of chicken at dinner” his relationship with her was by no means a secret. He felt conflicted about airing such personal things out to the rest of these pros, even if they were small. Her comfort and safety came first, if talking about all the little things he knew about her made things okay in her mind, then it was worth it.

To his, and her surprise, that got a scoff from her. He kept his features neutral, though on the inside, his heart was singing with relief, it was working.

“You love ripping stupid commercials to shreds, and that your favorite scent is (F/S)” Her stiff posture began to relax a bit as he talked, talons lowering down to her sides as the nail itself shrunk down to it’s usual size. 

“I’m going to take a step forward now, alright? Nice and easy.” he stepped forward, his long legs making the distance that much shorter.

“You also call me a poultry shit if I’ve been a bit mischievous, which me? Mischievous? Never” That pulled a soft huff of laughter. He took that as his cue to take another step. When she didn’t put her guard up, he took another, now just an arms length away from her.

He lowered his voice, just for her, “ I also know that when you’re overwhelmed, your skin gets really sensitive, not even air is light enough”

He was so much closer now. She could smell his aftershave, the one he used every morning, and something else under that that always followed him around. It made him so much more...real.

“K-Keigo?” she whispered, the sound just barely reaching his ears. He nodded, his hands casually outstretched to her. “That’s right Angel” Her eyes blurred as warm liquid spilled down her cheeks again, forgoing his hands and launching herself straight into his chest as she sobbed, his name spilling from her lips as if the mantra would keep him here.

His arms wrapped around her gently, hand gently running through her tangled hair and feathers lightly. “That’s it, it’s alright now. I’m here, you’re safe. You did so good Angel, you held out for so long” He praised, ignoring how her nails dug into him.

“Keigo” She whined, nuzzling her face into his chest as if that would bring them closer. He hushed her softly, murmuring to her sweet praises as he carefully took off his jacket, bundling her up in it as he gently picked her up.

“We’re gonna get you all patched up, dove” He cooed, stepping over the various thugs that still littered the group. If he should manage to hit one in the stomach with the tip of his boot, that’s his business.

The paramedics swarmed over, taking her from his arms, but he still held tight to her hand. He wasn’t going to leave his mate, not for the commission, not for anyone.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

I Ain’t A Judas (part two)

[Off-West End]

TW: Blood

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

Lynn had seen her fair share of gruesome injuries in her time, both as an active sports player and gym coach. 

When she was on her high school’s wrestling team, she vividly remembered throwing her (male, mind you) opponent to the ground and hearing the distinct sound of bones cracking. There was something haunting about being on top of a person while their skeleton seemed to fold inward, having her ear so close to that sickening snap. The resulting nightmare-inducing scream was actually a mercy to the other noise.

She had scrambled off of the boy, backing away on her hands and knees like she was a scared animal. Her opponent must have landed wrong when she pinned him because his knee was bent at an unnatural angle and he was screaming bloody murder. Someone in the audience threw up. Someone else fainted. The boy’s parents rushed over to him and began yelling.

The parents had tried to sue Lynn for the broken leg, but the school defended her, saying it wasn’t her fault and injuries were to be expected in sports. She obtained a title of sorts, being one of the most feared wrestlers in the district. She took it with honor, despite its double-edged outcomes.

The experience desensitized her to all types of gore, but not without a price. For a while, she was sensitive to any sound that resembled snapping bones. Even a foot stepping on a twig was enough to bring back the memory of the boy and the broken leg. She got over it eventually, but at the time, it had been hell.

Injuries became repetitive after that. Broken arms, broken legs, broken noses- she saw it all when she became a coach. They always went the same way, too- that damned snapping sound, a limb bent at an angle that wasn’t normal, screaming that was so loud it could probably break the sound barrier, everyone in the general vicinity panicking like chickens with their heads cut off. Not that Lynn blamed them for such a reaction; she supposed it wasn’t ever the same after you were chest-to-chest with someone when the injury happened.

But in sports, broken bones were the worst thing that could be inflicted upon someone. Scratches, bruises, black eyes, bloody noses, even the broken bones themselves to some extent were nothing compared to other horrors. So as the repetition of injuries continued its cycle, Lynn believed nothing could get worse than that time back in high school.

And then she entered the darkened White bungalow and saw Carrie on the ground, surrounded by blood and covered in blood and frothing up blood, and that way of thinking was thrown out the window.

This. This was worse.

Lynn used to think that the screaming was the worst part of any injury, regardless of severity. That elongated, guttural sound of agony that the victim didn’t have the power to mute or muffle, bearing completely raw emotion, ripped out from the throat without control or consent. 

But as Lynn had knelt above Carrie White’s body, she now knew that the screaming was a mercy. The silence was the real thing that she should have been fearing all these years.

The screaming, at least, as awful as it was, meant the victim was alive. Even with their mind clouded with agony, they were sentient enough to even feel that agony. They were there, they knew, they could feel.

Carrie White was not, did not, could not.

The silence did not bring serenity. The silence did not bring peace. The silence brought panic- overwhelming, blood-rushing panic that made Lynn feel like she was standing in the middle of a rushing white water river, battered by the current. It made everything fall away into little broken pieces that would never be able to form its proper puzzle ever again. It made her feel true, unadulterated, unbridled terror for the first time since she was sixteen and in a gymnasium that smelled of salt and sweat with another kid screaming his heart out right beneath her.

It made her feel helpless.

And then, as if a giant log had been hurled from the raging river of dread and hit her in the face, awareness came rushing back to her. She stopped the flow of tears that she had not been able to fight back in those initial moments of hysteria and got her head on straight. 

Sue was there, holding Carrie’s body close to her chest. Margaret was there, too, face-down on the floor, unmoving, but Lynn could have hardly cared. Her focus was entirely on the young girl bleeding all over the place before her.

The cause of that bleeding didn’t feel real, either.

  “Her throat. She slit her throat.”

Lynn remembered watching something on TV, one of those cookiecutter crime shows that had been copy and pasted dozens of times before, saying something about how a throat wound could bleed out within minutes, if not seconds. She cursed her school training for not teaching her how to deal with this, opting instead to make all the teachers relearn the heimlich maneuver and CPR for the hundredth time in a row.

When she took Carrie’s small, shaking body into her arms, she discovered something worse than the silence. The gurgling. That wet, foamy sound that gargled in the back of Carrie’s throat, so desperate for proper articulation and enunciation, choked back by a torrent of her own blood. It may have meant she was still alive and fighting, but Lynn much preferred the silence.

Unwrapping Sue’s shirt from around Carrie’s neck and actually gazing upon the wound felt like a physical knife against Lynn’s throat. She had never been one of those people who could feel pain from watching others get hurt, and yet, in that moment of raw horror, she swore she could feel her own flesh being sliced open, muscles and tendons snapping away like weak thread, vessels punctured and windpipe split, slowly filling her lungs with her own blood, drowning her, restricting breathing--and then she realized she wasn’t breathing. Not while she looked at the gash. It used its severed arteries as a noose and strangled her, so she strangled it back.

Even with the hideous green and brown curtains wrapped around the wound like bulky bandages, Carrie’s neck was still so small. Lynn’s hands were so large. She felt like she was trying to asphyxiate a baby bird.

Lynn realized then that the experience in the gym was not the most horrific thing she had ever witnessed. At least she was a teenager when it happened. Being an adult and squeezing onto a child’s slashed open throat hurt in more ways than she could truly express. There was just something so fucking terrifying about being the one to pinch gushing blood vessels closed, to be the hands around a dying girl’s throat, to be the one and only defining factor to if that girl would survive the night. Even though she knew it had to be done, Lynn wanted to cut her hands off for the things they had done in those horrifying six minutes before the ambulance arrived.

Carrie’s eyes had looked so dull, so lifeless. It was a stark contrast to half an hour before she was bleeding out all over the place, when they were full of joy and life.

Lynn had never seen Carrie so happy before. She had never seen her dance, either, which made everything pre-blood dump even better. Carrie looked like a normal teenage girl, having fun at her school prom, being treated as she should have been all these years.

Lynn remembered, clear as day, those hours before the destruction.

Carrie had truly stuck out like a sore thumb in the Prom, but not in the way that any of her bullies had been expecting. The dress she wore, hand-sewn herself she had said, was soft pink and seemed to glitter in the overhead lights. Her red hair was brushed back to neatness, though that one iconic lock of bangs still dangled in front of her left eye. When they had spotted each other, Lynn was endeared to watch Carrie rip away from Tommy and run over to her in her heels. 

  “Miss Gardener, you look incredible!” Carrie had exclaimed.

  “Thank you, Carrie,” Lynn said. “You look beautiful.” As shy and modest as always, Carrie ducked her head and said, “Oh, thank you.”

Tommy had then walked over to them. “Miss Gardener, I don’t think I would ever see you in a dress.”

Lynn gave him a sharp look. “Tommy.” 

Tommy cleared his throat. “You guys want some punch? I heard Stokes and Freddy spiked it.”

  “Oh no,” Carrie said in a woebegone voice. “Isn’t it dangerous to drink spikes? What if someone chokes?”

  “Really?” Lynn said to Tommy at the same time.

Tommy had laughed, then noticed Lynn’s unamused, deadpan expression. He stopped instantly.

  “Uh-- No.” He said. “I’m joking.” He rubbed his palms on his black pants. “I’m going to get us some of that punch! Which is not spiked!”

Lynn rolled his eyes as he skittered away, then turned her attention back to Carrie. She looked so amazed as she gazed around the Prom, like it was the nicest event she had ever been to.

She and Carrie had talked until Tommy came back, but it wasn’t the last she would see of the girl. She chatted with her several times during the night, even danced with her on a few occasions. It was nice to see her smile after everything.

But of course, it had been ruined. Would Carrie ever get to experience true bliss without someone taking it away from her?

The memory of the blood dump had brought Lynn back to the present, to the blood on her hands on that moment. Every time she would lift them long enough for Carrie to get air, more would gush out, and she slammed them back into place every time, desperate to halt the flow. She wouldn’t have taken them away at all if Carrie wouldn’t have suffocated from the pressure on her neck. 

Lynn thought about Chris when she was effectively strangling Carrie. Her own will was keeping her from adding the proper weight to Carrie’s neck, so she made herself angry to compensate for the thing she really didn’t want to do.

How could anyone be so cruel? Especially to someone who didn’t deserve such treatment? Lynn imagined it was Chris beneath her hands, and that made her squeeze tighter.

She knew it had been Chris, and not just because of her gut feeling. Norma had told her.

During the panic of laughter and shock and confusion after the blood dump, Lynn had found Norma Watson, Chris’s second-in-command, in the crowd. For a moment, she didn’t know if it was even really her, as she wasn’t used to seeing her without her trademarked red backwards hat, but then recognized her snarky face and grappled onto her with her nails dug in. However, when Norma looked at her, her face was anything but snarky. It was horrified.

  “What happened?” Lynn had demanded. “Who did this?”

  “Chris,” Norma told her instantly. She looked back to the stage, to the blood dripping off the edge. “I-I didn’t know it was blood…”

  “What?”

Norma shook her head, mouth hanging open.

  “Norma!” Lynn dug her nails in further. She didn’t care if it got her fired, she had to know. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Norma looked back at her, wide-eyed and sickened. “I didn’t know it was real blood.” She said. “Chris-- she said it was red water. Just dyed with food coloring. I didn’t think she would--”

Lynn had released her, noticing that Carrie was now gone. She couldn’t stick around any longer. 

Before she rushed away, she could have sworn she faintly heard Norma utter, “I’m sorry.”

When the paramedics finally came rushing in, Lynn did not let go of Carrie. She couldn’t risk it, not anymore. Not when they were so close to salvation. The paramedics let her stay by the girl’s side until they got to the actual hospital, but then not even she could remain. She had to peel her hands back, and they were completely covered in blood.

She and Sue sat in the waiting room for what felt like forever, when it was really only two and a half hours at best. They spoke to each other in brief, choppy instances. The stink of guilt wavering off of Sue was sickening--though, that may have just been the stench of the rancid pig blood and regular human blood mixed together into a miasma upon their skin.

When the nurse finally came out and walked up to them, Lynn had been expecting the worst. Surely such a lethal wound take longer to treat. But it didn’t, apparently, because the nurse said that Carrie was stable and Carrie was going to live and they would be able to see her if they liked.

They did.

Lynn and Sue both comforted Carrie when she woke up. Her voice was very hoarse and weak, and Lynn guessed that was both because of her throat wound and from her having to strangle her to keep her from bleeding out.

Carrie didn’t seem very happy to be alive, but then Lynn realized she didn’t have much to live for in the first place. Her mother was all she had, and now even she was gone (the doctors said it was a heart attack). Lynn was hoping to take the place of that empty maternal role and give Carrie the life she deserved. She just wanted to see her happy again.

It was one in the morning when Lynn finally left the hospital. Since she had rode in the ambulance, Sue’s mother dropped her off back at the White bungalow to get her car. 

The place was already swarmed with yellow tape and crime scene investigators. A few neighbors were standing out on their porch, watching the scene. Red and blue lights lit up the dark street. A police officer walked up to Lynn while she was trying to get to her car and began asking her questions about what happened.

By the time she got home, Lynn was mentally and physically drained. The first thing she did when she pulled up in her driveway was step out of her car and throw up in the lawn. Carrie’s blood was still on her hands.

Lynn lost her complete sense of time when she took a shower. She stood beneath the spray of scalding hot water and blankly watched blood run down the drain. She dimly wondered if this was what Carrie saw That Day in the locker room.

She finally broke when she got out of the shower. Staring at her own reflection in the fogged up mirror, she crumpled. Everything she had been holding back hit her like brass knuckles and she sunk to the floor, sobbing.

The tears stopped, eventually. When Lynn dredged herself from the bathroom floor, she went downstairs, started a fire in her fireplace, and threw her blood-stained Prom dress into the flames.

She would not be getting sleep tonight.

--

Carrie was permitted to leave the hospital two days later. By then, it seemed like everyone in the whole country had heard of what happened. Apparently a few reporters had even tried to sneak into the hospital under the guise of being family members to do an interview with Carrie, but were wrangled out.

Carrie herself looked no better than the day she came in. Her hair was wiry and tangled, and her skin was very, very ashen. Her eyes were dead, sunken into two pits in her skull. When Lynn had stepped into the hospital room, her gaze did not brighten like Lynn had been hoping. She just stared at her with a blank expression.

Lynn was given strict instructions to keep an eye on Carrie’s neck, to come in if even a single stitch popped out. Carrie was prescribed tramadol, which she should take a few hours after arriving home. If Lynn’s house could even be considered her home.

The drive was silent. Lynn tried to fill the space, but Carrie never responded. Hell, she barely even looked at her. All she did was look out the window with the same dead fish look in her eyes.

Was this even still the little girl she had danced with at Prom?

  “Here we are,” Lynn said as she parked. “There’s someone waiting for you inside. I’ve told them all about you.”

Carrie tensed. Lynn realized her mistake and quickly went on, “They’ll like you, I promise. It’s nothing bad.”

Carrie’s anxiety did not go away. Lynn quickly unbuckled both of their seatbelts (had Carrie ever even ridden in a car before?), then led Carrie inside. Instantly, Carrie flinched, probably expecting someone awful to be waiting there for her, but instead a grey pit bull bounded up to them, tail wagging so fast it became a blur. Carrie relaxed slightly.

  “You have a dog.”

It was the first thing Carrie had said to her all day. Lynn smiled and nodded, scratching behind the dog’s ear.

  “I never told you?”

Carrie shook her head.

  “Well, her name is Rosebud. You can also call her Rosie. She responds to both.”

Carrie nodded. She reached down and tentatively pet Rosebud. Rosebud responded by eagerly licking her hand. Carrie pulled away with a tiny noise, but it wasn’t one of shock or fear, rather awe. Had Carrie ever touched a dog before?

  “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Lynn gave Carrie a tour of the house while Rosebud trailed after them. Carrie nodded to everything she said, not voicing her opinions about anything. Not that Lynn was expecting her to. She wasn’t like that. Even if it weren’t for her traumatic injury, she wouldn’t say anything.

By the time Lynn was done showing Carrie around, she realized it was only now turning to 12:00. They still had the whole day stretched out before them, and Lynn had no idea what to do.

It was weird, she thought. She had imagined raising Carrie herself several times before this, but she always pictured them doing regular family things like watching TV together or baking or going jogging. Now that the opportunity was finally in front of her, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Though, in her defense, in all of her fantasized ideas, she hadn’t pictured Carrie with a slashed open throat and severe trauma.

  “Would you like to do anything?” Lynn asked. Might as well like Carrie choose.

But Carrie just shook her head, looking as clueless as she felt. 

  “Ah-- well…” Lynn was grasping at straws here. What did Carrie even like to do? “Here, I’ll turn the TV on for you. You can watch something.”

With a small bit of coaxing, she got Carrie to sit down on the couch. Rosebud jumped up next to her. Lynn turned on the TV and opened up the channel guide, then handed the remote to Carrie.

  “Turn on whatever you want.”

Carrie looked down at the remote, then up at her, blinking.

Oh, please don’t tell me she doesn’t know how to--

  “I-I, umm…”

Yep. That was enough of an answer. Carrie didn’t know how TVs worked.

  “Oh, let me--” Lynn took the remote back and began explaining how it worked. “See these two arrows? If you press on them, you can go up in the channels. That’s what all of those little boxes on the screen are. And you can select with this circle in the middle.” She demonstrated, selecting one of the channels and turning on one of those house hunting shows where the white couple (and they’re ALWAYS white) never seem satisfied with any of the options they’re given even though they’re all beautiful houses. “So, is there anything specific you want to watch? Sports? Cartoons? Movies?”

  “This is okay,” Carrie said softly.

  “Alright,” Lynn set the remote down next to her. “You can change it anytime you want.”

Carrie nodded, then looked up at the TV. Lynn lingered beside her for a moment before walking into the kitchen.

Wow, okay. She did not expect motherhood to be this awkward. This was definitely going to be an adventure for her and Carrie both.

--

Time passed. The hours went by. Carrie didn’t say very much. There were some instances where Lynn completely forgot that Carrie was even there and found herself rushing back into the living room to make sure she was as she had left her (which she always was). 

It was a very quiet day, indeed.

At around five o’clock in the evening, however, that quietness was broken.

There was a whimper.

It was so faint that Lynn thought she was just imagining things at first. She had looked up from the soup she was making (the doctor said that Carrie was going to have a liquid/soft food diet for awhile) and furrowed her eyebrows. She strained her ears, but the only sound she got in return was the voice of one of the Property Brothers (she couldn’t tell which was which) from the TV, so she turned her attention back to stirring the noodles in the pot in front of her, writing it off as nothing.

But then it sounded again, this time slightly louder.

Lynn’s spoon clattered against the countertop when she took it out of the pot. She looked out of the kitchen. Maybe it was just Rosebud? She whistled for her pet, then heard the scratching of claws beneath her. She looked down and saw that Rosebud was already there, begging for food in the way she always did when Lynn would cook. Lynn gave into her adorable puppy dog face and tossed her a piece of meat, which she scarfed down greedily.

Well, the whimper was probably just from Rosebud pleading for food in her usual doggy way. But then there was another whimper while she was looking down at the dog, and it had most certainly not come from Rosebud.

Lynn’s eyes widened.

Remember when it was said that Lynn sort of forgot that she had a child now living in her house? This was one of those times.

Lynn hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room, where she found Carrie curled up against one of the pillows, hand on her throat. Lynn was half-expecting there to be blood everywhere and was expecting Carrie to already be dead even more. If only she had been faster, paid more attention, actually known what the fuck she was doing and how to take care of a child--

Carrie whimpered again.

Lynn knelt down beside the couch and gently touched her arm. Carrie flinched away, eyes popping open wide. She looked at her as if she were expecting someone else, someone worse. There was terror written all over her face, and Lynn could tell she had an apology sitting on her tongue.

  “I-I’m sorry--”

And there it was.

  “Shh, it’s alright,” Lynn said to her, keeping her voice low and soft as to not freak the poor girl out even more. “You’re alright. You’re not in trouble. Are you okay?”

  “M-my neck--” Carrie’s voice was strangled, caught in her throat like it was snagged by a fish hook. “I-it hurts--”

Lynn cursed herself for not knowing that. Of course that would be the cause of Carrie’s pain- she got her damn throat slashed open! Was she expecting it to be her damn elbows or something?

  “The painkillers have probably worn off by now,” Lynn said, glancing at the time projected underneath the TV. “I’ll go get you some more.” She retrieved a tablet of Tramadol and a glass of water in record time, not wanting to leave Carrie alone for very long. She helped her sit up, then set the two items in her hands. Carrie went to take a sip from the cup, but flinched away at the last second.

  “N-no--”

Lynn frowned. “You have to drink, sweetheart.” She said. “You need to take that medicine.”

  “I-I can’t--” 

  “It’ll make the pain go away.”

Carrie shook her head, then cried out in pain when she did so, nearly spilling the water. When Lynn reached out to steady her, she jerked away as if her hands were made of fire.

  “Hey, hey,” Lynn spoke softly. “It’s okay, Carrie. You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Carrie looked at her, and there were tears glistening in her big hazel eyes.

  “Why don’t you want to drink?” Lynn asked. Maybe if she knew the cause of the problem, she could solve it.

  “Hurts--to swallow.”

Once again, Lynn mentally punched herself for not knowing that. She couldn’t imagine what Carrie must have been feeling at that moment. Was she worried that the stitches would fly out if she simply took a drink of water?

  “Oh, honey,” Lynn said sadly. She reached out and gently rubbed Carrie’s shoulder, hoping to comfort her. “I know it hurts, but the medicine will help with that, I promise. You just need to take one sip, that’s all. Just one. Think you can do that for me?”

Carrie looked at her uneasily, then nodded. She drank from the cup and put the pill in her mouth while Lynn rubbed her back comfortingly. The poor thing got an expression of absolute agony on her face when she swallowed, but she managed to force it down.

  “It hurts!” Carrie cried.

  “You did it, baby,” Lynn said, smiling warmly. She thumbed away the tears that had sprung to Carrie’s eyes. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Hurts,” Carrie uttered again. The hand that wasn’t holding the cup grasped at her neck, as if she thought the flesh was still splitting open and she could mend it back together if she held it for long enough. 

  “I know,” Lynn said. “The medicine is going to help with that, though. You’ll feel better soon.”

Carrie nodded weakly. Her eyes were so dull and lifeless. Lynn wished she would smile.

  “I’m going to go take the pot off the oven before I burn the whole house down,” Lynn said. “I assume that you aren’t up to eating right now?”

Carrie shook her head.

  “Okay. But when the medicine starts working, you’re going to have to eat something. Doctor’s orders.”

Lynn went back to the kitchen and took the pot of soup off of the burner. She got to it just in time; it was about to bubble over the edge.

When Lynn went back to the couch, two bowls of soup in hand, Carrie was leaning back against the cushions, a glazed look in her eyes. Her hand was still on her neck. Lynn nudged her gently to get her attention.

  “I’m back,” Lynn said, sitting down next to her. “I hope you like chicken noodle. Homemade.”

Carrie blinked at her slowly. “My Mama would make me boiled chicken.”

  “I--” 

That sounded absolutely disgusting.

  “Sounds delicious!”

Carrie shrugged. Pain flashed in her eyes, and Lynn knew it wasn’t because of her neck for once.

Everyone knew about Margaret White and her weird teachings, but nobody had ever thought to do something about it. Lynn was, shamefully, one of those people. Even after she grew attached to Carrie, she still held out hope that it wasn’t as bad as everyone was saying, that the bruises that constantly showed up on Carrie’s little body were just from clumsiness.

She should have known. She should have been smarter. Maybe if she stepped in sooner Carrie wouldn’t be the way she was now.

  “It was certainly boiled,” Carrie finally said, and Lynn couldn’t help but bark a laugh. Carrie blinked at her in delight.

  “I bet it was,” Lynn said back, patting her head.

She and Carrie ended up switching the channel to some animated movie while they ate. Or, while Lynn ate. Carrie didn’t touch her bowl from where it sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Some time passed. Lynn noticed that Carrie was starting to blink a lot more, as if she were fighting off tears, but when she looked directly at her, she realized it was from weariness. 

That was right. Tramadol’s main side effect was drowsiness. Lynn tried not to smirk.

  “Someone is sleepy,” Lynn said.

  “Mm-mmm,” Carrie shook her head stubbornly, then let out the most adorable yawn that Lynn had ever heard. 

  “You definitely are,” Lynn set her bowl down, then picked up Carrie’s. “Think you can take a few bites for me? Just a little.”

Carrie looked at her, then the bowl, then back to her, then nodded. She took the bowl from Lynn and began taking small bites.

  “Good girl,” Lynn smiled, rubbing Carrie’s back. Maybe taking Carrie wouldn’t be so hard after all!

  “Hey, Miss Gardener?”

  “Yes, sweet girl?”

  “You wanna know what it was like?”

  “What?”

Carrie looked up at her, eyes like hollow glass, a thin line of soup dripping down the corner of her mouth, and said, “Your hands felt like they had been hanging me.”

…Or not. 

[fishmongeringstudies]

forty six: stick and stick

yesterday's dessert is some kind of chilled lychee soup containing what i initially thought was exactly two lychees but turns out, i have just discovered, to be two lychees and a fuckton of nata de coco. for the uninitiated, nata de coco is a kind of compact jelly-like substance made from fermenting coconut water, a fact that i learned of fifteen seconds ago despite the fact that i have been inhaling nata de coco like a vacuum cleaner with a broken power button since primary two and probably even before that. the initial metaphor i wanted to make here was one for how we often overlook the bright spots in life because we are too busy focusing on the lychees, but perhaps the real takeaway here is that we should stop looking altogether and look things up on google every once in a while.

day six: i've figured it out. breakfast comes with some kind of fruit juice (typically orange or apple), lunch is accompanied by a liquid-based dessert like red bean soup or cheng teng, and dinner is served with a side of fruit. the same kind of protein is never brought out twice in the same day, which means a white dory afternoon will be followed by some form of the chicken, and a chicken-based afternoon will never lead to a chicken-steeped evening. vegetables. which usually means broccoli and/or cauliflower (good) and other times means carrots.

when i was a child i hated carrots because they didn't taste like crunchy water but instead had a mild and disgusting sweetness to them alongside the distinct taste of something that had risen from the earth like a mushroom or a zombie. my father would force me to eat them whenever they appeared in the wild, that is, in restaurants and at friends' houses, and i would cry and throw a tantrum and then he would hit and/or scold me, deploy the well-worn battle tactics of asian parenting, et cetera. 'just pretend you're eating something else,' my mother would reason with me very reasonably. 'yeah, well,' i would say with the kind of eloquence only an eleven year old who's read too many books from the young adult section of the library possesses. 'no.' and then i would cry and throw a tantrum and if my dad wasn't here i'd go pour myself some milk and sulk in a corner of the living room. if he was, well, you know.

so there are a number of ways to cook carrots. this presupposes of course that one cooks one's carrots, something i will humbly allow because if you eat carrots raw then you are a rabbit or a furry and i will never acknowledge your existence no matter how many fursuits you buy me. returning to the matter of the non-heathen population, you can either cook carrots very slightly by means of such technologies as 'the boil' or 'the steam', or you can cook them a lot by means of such technologies as 'the boil but harder or 'some kind of pan-frying, preferably with onions'. my point is carrots can be made to neither taste nor feel like carrots. if you have ever had japanese curry i'm sure you've had the experience of putting something chonky in your mouth and discovering that despite the deceptively similar mouthfeel, that was not a chunk of potato, but the carrot. carrots that can pass for other vegetables are not true carrots in my mind and therefore have rights. carrots that look and taste and do wushu like carrots do not have rights.

the carrots that sometimes appear in the bento boxes which some kind soul i have never had the luxury to speak to because i am in government-mandated quarantine due to potential exposure to covid while flying halfway across the globe delivers to the little table propped up outside my room at eight, twelve, and six o'clock every day do not have rights. they are barely boiled and completely unsalted, unflavored, unwanted, unicorn. they are not submerged in a homicidal sea of sauce. and worst of all, they have the mouthfeel of a fist-sized clump of dental floss baked in an oven at medium heat for five hours. to put it more bluntly: the mouthfeel. bad.

you may be thinking at this point that i am throwing away all of the carrots, but i'm not the kind of loser you think i am; i am an even greater loser. i am the ultimate loser, the loser of all losers, which actually makes me a winner, which cancels out the loser accusation, which means i am probably a real human being, and if i don't eat my fruits and vegetables my digestive system will digest itself or my primary five science teacher will be disappointed in me. this is how you eat carrots. you shove all of them in your mouth in one go like hamsters do with their mouth pouches, pinch your nose shut, and then chew like a madman until you can swallow without ripping your throat open. this doesn't erase the mouthfeel problem. but at least it solves everything else.

a confession: i fear that i will give in to my cowardice. it is day six and i have figured everything out but there are eight days to go, and history has proven that eight days can change the effective composition of the world. i know as little about myself today as i will tomorrow, and yet we try to establish the parameters of our lives regardless, plotting the graphs over and over again until our mouths are green with mildew and our skin is clear as glass, revealing veins pulsing with blood, oxygen, nutrients, whatever else secondary school biology imparted to me. we can only learn how to live life by living it, after all. so it's all right if you don't always want to look back over your shoulder. your neck might snap off, you know? you're right to be afraid. but give it a try sometimes. put that carrot in your mouth.

07.08.21

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

Can you do a reddie secret admirer one shot? I’ve been starved for one and I love your work

“Gimme, let me see that,” Bev moved forward and ripped the note out of Eddie’s hands, bringing it up to her face to read what it said. “This is some adorable stuff, Eddie. Do you have any idea who it might be?” She passed the note back to him before leaning against Ben. All of the Losers were gathered in the clubhouse, hanging out post school to regenerate.

Eddie shook his head, “I really have no idea. I don’t know anyone who might be able to write nice notes like this and I also have no clue who would...put this much effort into something like this for me.” He shrugged, slipping the note back and forth between his fingers. “It’s probably a joke, anyway. One day they’ll reveal themselves and it’ll be this huge joke.”

It was that sentence that made Richie perk up from the hammock, the comic he was reading falling into his lap, “Woah, Eds. You don’t know that. This person might genuinely be into you. We can also collectively agree that it’s a guy? No girl would be able to write shit like that.”

“Exactly, that’s exactly why I know this whole thing is a huge joke!” Eddie snapped, whipping his head around to Richie. “The last thing I need is for you to start...making fun of me for this. Sometimes your jokes are well timed and appreciated and other times, like now, everyone would just prefer it if you kept your mouth shut.” Around him, the loser's jaws dropped but none of them said anything as Eddie grabbed his stuff and left the clubhouse, the note scrunched up in his hand.

He was halfway home when Eddie heard the familiar crunching of Richie’s shoes following behind him. Thanks to his long legs, Richie was able to catch up to Eddie quite quickly, which was annoying when he wanted nothing more than to get away from his friend. “Eds, hey, wait up!” He sounded out of breath, as though he had been running and that made Eddie turn around, his eyes narrow. “Thank you, jeez!”

“What do you want Richie? Can’t you take a hint that I want to be alone?” Eddie snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. “Go back to the clubhouse, I’m fine. I just want to be alone okay?” He hoped that would be enough to satisfy Richie and he’d turn around to head back, but he wasn’t in luck as Richie stayed put. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you, I’m just...I know this is a joke, but is it really stupid of me to want it to be real?”

Richie’s jaw dropped just a little and he ran his hand through his hair, “Eds, of course it’s not. I wasn’t making fun of you back there when I suggested it might not be a joke. I was serious. We’re not in middle school anymore, we’re High School seniors, people have grown up and you...you’re a catch Eds. Any guy would be lucky to have you on their arm.”

Eddie bit his lip, looking from the ground and back to Richie, who was still staring at him. “You really think whoever sent these could be...actually into me?” He asked, voice quiet and Richie was quick to nod his head in agreement. “Why wouldn’t they tell me who they are though?”

At that, Richie chuckled a little, “Uh, well there’s loads of reasons Eds. Maybe he’s a little scared that you won’t feel the same once you find out who it is? Maybe you guys are friends already and he doesn’t want to ruin anything. I mean, you are friends with more than just the losers now. You have all the guys on the track team, and the student council.”

“You think it might be someone on the track team?” Eddie asked, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous about the whole situation. The guys on the track team, minus Ben, were all somewhat popular at their High School. “I mean...wow,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks, Richie, you really made me feel a whole lot better about this thing.”

Richie smiled and if Eddie was paying attention, he would have realised it wasn’t a proper Richie smile. “No problem Eds,” he winked. “Anything for my favourite Loser.” He turned to look back towards the clubhouse. “I left my bag and everything back there, so I’m going to go get it. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, taking a few steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Richie.” He turned to head back, when he heard Richie call his name. He turned back around, a questioning expression on his face. “Yeah?”

Instead of saying anything, Richie just shook his head and waved Eddie away, “Nothing, see you later Eds.” He turned around and walked away. As he did, Eddie smiled at him, before he turned around, heading home.

* * * * *

“You gotta tell him, Rich,” Stan spoke from next to Richie as he rummaged through his locker. He had been putting secret admirer notes through Eddie’s locker for three months now, and every day he told Stan he would tell Eddie it was him. He never did, he always chickened out when he got even a little close. “If you don’t tell him, he’s really going to think it’s a game and you’ll lose your chance.”

Richie slammed his locker shut and rested his head against the metal, banging his head, “I know, fuck, I know. I just- what if he freaks out and I lose him? What if he laughs at me...or worse screams at me for making a joke out of him. It’s not a joke Stan, I love him!”

Stan raised an eyebrow and looked down to the note that was in Richie’s hand, “Don’t tell me you love him, you need to tell him that.” He looked up and over to where Eddie’s locker was, where he was talking to one of the guys on the track team. “I’d also be quick about it because to me, it looks like Danny is going to ask Eddie to prom.”

Eyes wide in panic, Richie whipped his head around to see that Danny was, in fact, talking to Eddie close and intimately. A feeling of jealousy, not that Richie would admit that, took over him and he grabbed his back, striding over to where his best friend was and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Morning Eds, what a beautiful day it is right?” He asked, before looking up at Danny who was looking awkward. “Oh, hey Danny.”

“Hey Richie,” Danny muttered. “Uh, sorry but Eddie and I were having a conversation, could we have a little privacy?” He asked and Richie scoffed, tightening his arm around Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie seemed to notice, as he looked up at him, frowning slightly.

“Anything you have to say to Eddie you can say to me, right Eds?” Richie asked, looking down at him to meet his curious gaze. Eddie frowned once more but nodded and turned back to Danny to hear what he had to say. “See? So ask away.”

Eddie sighed, “I’m sorry about him, you were about to say something, Danny? What’s up?” He was smiling now, as though he was waiting for Danny to say something life changing and the green eyed monster flared up in his stomach.

Danny glanced at Richie before he turned back to Eddie, “So I heard that you’ve been receiving notes in your locker from a secret admirer?” Richie froze up a little, but neither of them noticed as Eddie perked up. “Well, it’s me. I’m the one sending the notes and I was hoping I’d be able to take you out on Friday and if it all goes well, take you to Prom next week?”

The students in the hallway all stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the three of them. Eddie’s eyes were wide and his cheeks red as he looked from his locker, to the note in his hand and then back to Danny. Richie, on the other hand, was frozen in shock. For the first time, he was lost for words. “I-” Eddie mumbled. “I guess?”

“Great, pick you up at seven?” Danny asked and Eddie weakly nodded his head, the happy look that was on his face now gone.

Just as Danny started to walk away, Eddie pulled out of Richie’s grasp to head to class and Richie finally found his words. “Wait, wait stop!” Richie yelled, making everyone turn their heads back to Richie; including Eddie and Danny. “No, no this is all wrong. Danny- you’re an asshole because you’re not the one sending Eddie those notes and the fact that you’d claim you were makes you even more of a douchebag.” A few whispers broke out in the hallway, but Richie wasn’t done. “Eds, Eddie. This- this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. I had a plan, I swear I did and it involved a lot more romance and a picnic and maybe roses.” He chuckled nervously and took a step closer to Eddie.

“What- what are you saying, Richie?” Eddie whispered, his eyes filled with tears. All Richie wanted to do was pull him into his arms and make everything okay again. God he wanted to punch Danny for being such a prick.

He took another step closer to Eddie, “It’s me,” he whispered. He pulled out the fresh note from his pocket and walked right up to Eddie with it, holding it out for the taking. “I’m your secret admirer. I’m the one who’s been sending you the notes and putting little gifts in your locker because, because I am so in love with you and I have done so for so long. I was just...scared to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you as my friend.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he took the note from Richie, opening it up to read over the words; the words that Richie had been too scared to say out loud. Unknown to Stan and everyone else, Richie had in fact written his identity in that letter, finally believing it was time to come clean to Eddie.

Eds,

Fuck, you probably know it’s me now and this is letter number 15, I’m running out of paper so let’s just run with it. I love you. I love the way you laugh at all my jokes, I love the way you help me with the pranks without question. I love how much you just get me and I get you. I don’t know if you feel the same about me but god I hope you do. You’re amazing and you deserve the world, even if it isn’t with me.

If it is with me though, and you do feel the same, would you meet me on the field after school? I planned a little date for us, yes a date, so we can talk about all of this. It’s not a joke, I would never joke about this, not with you. I hope to see you there, Eddie Spaghetti.

Love, Richie

Letting out a breath, Eddie looked up from the letter with tears trailing down his cheeks. Richie was sure that Eddie was about to turn around and leave him, and his heart, in the dust. Yet, instead of walking away, Eddie pocketed the letter and took a step forward, pushing up on his toes as he wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck to bring their lips together.

The kiss wasn’t deep or dirty or anything like that. No, it was soft, sweet and absolutely perfect. Eddie’s lips tasted like the cherry chapstick his mother made him use and they were both smiling into it so much they couldn’t really deepen the kiss. Slowly, Eddie pulled back and sat back down on his heels. “I’ll see you on the field afterschool. Don’t be late.”

Richie grinned, running hand through his hair as he nodded his head, “See you after school. I definitely won’t be late.” As Eddie walked away, Richie broke into a wide grin, punching the air just a little before clearing his throat and heading to class. He had finally scored the guy.

* * * * * 

@bi-bi-richie @bovaque @derrylosers @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @halfway-happy353 @inthebreadbinwrites @isaacslaheys @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madidraw @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @njess04 @oldguybones @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @rebecca-the-queen  @reddie-to-cryy @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @richietoizer @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @violetreddie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead 

[danceworshipper]

Oliver Adams - HPHM Profile [redone]

(information is as of sixth year - shared universe with @ask-hphm-crew)

Identity

Name: Oliver Tyler Adams

Gender: Male (cis)

Age: 16

Birthday: May 28th, 1973 (gemini)

Species: Human/wizard

Blood Status: Halfblood

Sexuality: Pansexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Residence: The family farm in the Irish countryside. It's huge, a bit outdated decoration-wise, and homey. His room is on the third floor, looking out over the field and he can see the sunrise if he wakes up early enough. The farm is so old and imbued with magic that Oliver can use underage magic without the Ministry finding out

Personality Type: ESFJ-A (the consul)

Magic

Wand: 13 3/4 inches of pliant pine wood encasing a phoenix feather core. The wand is thick and heavy, light in color, and with no defining marks other than Oliver's name carved into it with a knife. Doing this did not damage the wand in any way, but when Ollivander saw it he nearly had a heart attack.

Animagus: A mixed breed cat, Siamese/Ragdoll, similar to the stray cats that lounge around the farm

Misc. Magical Abilities: Legilimency and Occlumency, though he doesn't practice them often

Boggart Form: In earlier years, it was a werewolf, since one could be heard howling somewhere near the farm during full moons. As he got older and met actual werewolves like Chiara, Oliver lost his fear of them and his boggart changed to a mortally wounded vision of himself, having failed to save anyone from the vaults and meeting his own painful end

Riddikulus Form: The vision of himself is instead only afflicted with a concussion, with his Quidditch team mothering him as he insists he's fine

Amortentia (what do they smell like?): Oliver would smell like roast chicken, fresh tomatoes, and bright sunshine

Amortentia (what do they smell?): At the current point, Oliver smells the ocean, cat fur, and wood polish. As he has no strong romantic interest (though that may change very soon) the smells just make him happy and aren't related to any specific person

Patronus: Dolphin

Patronus Memory: His first time seeing the ocean. Nothing went wrong that day, and he got to see dolphins for the first time too. He and his family all had a great time together.

Mirror of Erised: His mother and grandparents standing proudly behind him. It's his graduation day, not an injury to him. Everything turned out okay

Specialized/Favorite Spells:

- Reficere Aspectu - temporarily repairs his vision. The spell he uses for Quidditch matches.

- Lumos, Aguamenti, Wingardium Leviosa - extremely useful spells for around the farm

- Arania Exumi - spider repellent is always useful

- Orchideous - he conjures flowers for his mother and grandmother all the time

- Reparo - the first Transfiguration spell he got on the first try

Appearance

[concept image made using the zepeto app]

Height: 6'3

Weight: 191 lbs

Physique: Skinny with noticeable muscles from all the Quidditch and farming

Eye Color: Light, slightly greyish blue

Hair Color: Dirty blonde, usually kept in a bowl cut that his mother gives him. Oliver knows it's not fashionable (Andre is constantly nagging him to change it) but he doesn't really care enough to learn hair charms

Skin Tone: Light, no freckles. He burns easily so when he comes back at the start of every year he's a bit pink

Body Modifications: His eyesight is atrocious. He wears round glasses most of the time and uses a temporary vision charm for Quidditch

Scarring: Oliver has a nasty scar on his back from being kicked by a cow as a kid, and some scratches on his arms and legs from the various animals and work around the farm

Fashion: This kid has no fashion. Andre is in hell. Oliver wears shorts whenever he can and t-shirts. If it's cold he'll add a flannel. Around sixth year he starts updating his wardrobe a bit, but keeps his usual clothing for around the farm. No point having decent clothing get all dirty and ripped up

Hogwarts

House: Gryffindor

Class Grades:

- Astronomy: E

- Care of Magical Creatures: E

- Charms: A

- Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

- Divination: E

- Flying: O

- Herbology: O

- History of Magic: A

- Potions: A

- Transfiguration: A

Quidditch: Keeper since year 3

Extracurriculars: Dragon Club, Gobstones Club

Favorite Professor: Professor McGonagall. She's his head of house, and she reminds Oliver a bit of his grandmother with her stern but kind nature. She encourages his love of Transfiguration, even if he isn't the best at it, and she's a huge Quidditch fan

Least Favorite Professor: Professor Dumbledore. Oliver is an easygoing, agreeable guy most of the time. He respects his elders as his grandparents taught him, but only when they deserve it. Dumbledore most certainly does not

Relationships

Mother: Katie Adams

- Katie is a shy, quiet woman. She was homeschooled for most of her life, receiving at-home tutoring in her later years as her mother Gertrude was unable to properly teach her what she needed to know, and she's only seen the inside of Hogwarts twice: when she sat in for her O.W.L.s and her N.E.W.T.s.

- As a mother, Katie made sure to raise Oliver to be kind and always drink his Respect Women Juice. She had him take on some of the farm duties at a young age to help teach him responsibility

- Oliver got kicked by a cow when she turned her back on him for no more than ten seconds. Katie's boggart is what would have happened had Oliver been standing slightly closer - he would have been paralyzed, as the kick would have hit his neck

Father: Kyle Donovan

- Oliver never knew him. He was a muggle who left Katie shortly after she became pregnant

- He was a decent guy in general, but the idea of being a father at the age of 24 scared him and he ran like a coward. He never knew about the Wizarding world, and even if he wanted to return to try and make amends he'll never be able to find the family farm ever again, thanks to Marvin

Grandfather: Marvin Adams

- Marvin is a cranky, slightly old fashioned kind of guy. He cares a lot about tradition and keeps telling Oliver that one day the farm will be his, and then his kids', and then their kids'. Oliver doesn't have the strength to tell him he's not sure he wants kids at all

- Marvin loves his wife. There were many times in their relationship where it looked like the marriage was about to fall apart, but they were somehow always able to get through them - mostly by him apologizing to Gertrude

- Oliver is able to hold his own in a duel thanks to Marvin. Despite being an old crud, he's got a lot of fight in him

Grandmother: Gertrude Adams

- Gertrude was horrified that Oliver was going to grow up without a male influence, which is why Katie never moved off the family farm with him. The old woman made Oliver learn to cook and sew so that he wouldn't be a useless husband in the future

- She's the type of person who'll say that she still dreams of marrying her teenage sweetheart and moving to an island with him, but she doesn't mean it. She loves her family and her life, but she does one day want to retire on an island

- After Oliver graduates Hogwarts and takes over the farm, Gertrude will finally be able to convince Marvin that they can retire without worrying over the farm, and they'll move to a lovely beach house. Her last ten years will be spent in her own little paradise

Love Interest: Isla Lyall @sapphicsaffir

- Isla is the twin sister of Vera, one of Oliver's closest friends in Gryffindor. Isla is in Ravenclaw, so originally they didn't spend much time together. However, Oliver always found Isla cuter than Vera

- People who didn't know them well thought Oliver and Vera liked each other, but anyone who did know them knew Vera would rather die, and that Oliver preferred the red haired twin over the blonde one

- Vera is the one who keeps pushing to get them together. She told Oliver that she knows Isla likes him, but he refused to believe it. Still, she kept trying, saying that if anyone had to be her brother-in-law she'd rather it be him

- In fourth year, Ravenclaw lost a crucial match and it took them out if running for the House Cup. Isla, a chaser, was disappointed, but went to the final match to support her sister and her crush

- Gryffindor won, and in the excitement, Isla ran up to Oliver and yanked him down so she could kiss him. Oliver understandably short-circuited, while Vera yelled "Finally!"

Best Friend: Andre Egwu

- When Oliver first met Andre, they didn't like each other at all. They were on opposing Quidditch teams, after all. But their mutual friends forced them to spend more time together, and now the two are practically inseparable. It makes little sense to most people.

- They're the kind of best friends who insult the living daylights out of each other to show their love

- They went as friends to the Celestial Ball. A few people got the wrong impression, but they've never considered dating each other. They feel more like brothers than anything else

Rival: Anyone on an opposing Quidditch team. Even if the rivalry doesn't affect them off the pitch, Oliver's instinctive reaction when he sees his opponents is one of distaste (ironic since both his best friend and his girlfriend are his rivals)

Enemy: Every last member of R

Dormmates:

- Charlie Weasley

- Ben Copper

- Jae Kim

Pets: a barn owl named Priscilla, and a sheepdog who stays at the farm named Sparky

Closest Canon Friends:

- Charlie Weasley

- Nymphadora Tonks

- Diego Caplan

Closest Noncanon Friends:

- Vera Lyall @sapphicsaffir

- The gang from @ask-hphm-crew

- Unnamed members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team

Storyline

- Oliver was raised a happy, carefree little boy. His incident with the cow never deterred him from helping his mum and grandparents around the farm, and he even gave the cow an "I'm sorry I provoked you" treat as soon as he could. He didn't ask about his father until he was ten, and Gertrude sat him down and told him what happened. Oliver resents the man that fled his mother. Gertrude knew he'd be angry and didn't tell him his father's name

- During his first couple years at Hogwarts, Oliver made friends and charmed his way into most of the professors' good graces. In year three Oliver joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and after his first match against Ravenclaw, he and Andre started butting heads until their other friends forced them to hang out more

- Oliver gets involved with the Cursed Vaults almost by accident. He has no cursed brother like the game says, but he does have a desire to help people, so when he hears of a group of students trying to save the school from certain doom, he gets involved right away

- His discovered Legilimency throws him for a loop, as no one in his family has that power. He rarely ever uses his mind reading without permission, but when it becomes necessary he's usually able to do it without the target finding out

- After Hogwarts, Oliver will take ownership of the family farm for a few years, but it's not his passion and he hates the idea of being stuck there for the rest of his life. At age twenty two he sells the farm to one of the farmhands with three young kids and uses the money to buy a bakery with an apartment above it. He grows some of his own ingredients and buys the rest at discount from the old farm, and also runs guitar lessons out of his apartment. His grandparents are a little disappointed, but they understand, and his mother reveals that she had a secret boyfriend who she moves in with and later marries. He's a nice man with a kid a little older than Oliver

- Oliver and Isla have a small wedding a little before the Battle of Hogwarts. A few years later, Isla gives birth to twin girls Kenzie and Kleio. Five years after that, their son Caspian is born

Extra Info

- Oliver is a family man through and through. If he had to, he would have stayed on the farm forever to support his family. When he has his own family, he's an extremely devoted father even though he was never sure he wanted children when he was younger

- Despite not moving on to play Quidditch professionally, Oliver does join a recreational team after he sells the farm, as does Andre, who starts up his own fashion line

- Oliver is a total house husband. Isla is a cursebreaker, and Oliver brags about her to whoever will listen. She often comes home to a fresh cooked meal/baked goods

- Oliver's a cat person. He adopts two stray kittens when he moves to the bakery and loves them with all his heart

- He can't be alone for more than a few days or he'll go crazy. He loves spending time with his friends or even meeting new people

- He starts playing the guitar at the age of seven. Marvin is the one to teach him. Later on he learns about the muggle electric guitar and buys one as soon as he can figure out how to get electricity into his apartment

- Oliver visits his grandparents at their beach house at least five times a year. He can't get enough of the ocean, even when it's too cold to go swimming (and he'll usually do it anyway)

- He's the tallest one in his immediate family. Oliver assumes he got his height from his father, but he actually got the height from Gertrude's side of the family

- Oliver will always prefer to cook himself than to go to a restaurant

- He's a fairly good dueler, but Diego could always kick his ass

- Oliver will try to arrange a big meetup with all of his friends at least once a year. Not everyone can make it every time, but he refuses to let their friendships fade into the past

- He loses the bowl cut in year seven, when Andre convinces Tonks and Diego to hold him down so Andre can fix his hair. Oliver ends up liking it and keeps it that way for years to come