#DIRECTLY AFTER I MADE THE QUIZ AND WERE WE COMPLAINING ABOUT IT
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asleepinawell · 2 years ago
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ah hell lads
w/ @sntoot whose vote for worst dungeon also helped doom us :’)
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yisanged · 2 years ago
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not a vent really. maybe sort of technically i've just had something to be annoyed about in like every class today at school. kill. and i was complaining and it just got really long you know me
uuughhhhhh i only did sort of alright on my english quiz and i probably bombed my math test i ran out of time and had to stay like 5 minutes after the next period started to finish it and while i was trying to get out there was some tall asshole standing in the middle of the aisle that was my only point of exit because our desks are pushed together into columns in that class and there was a cluster of people by the teacher's desk on the other side so i tried to get past him and accidentally pushed him a little and he turned around and was like hey you almost just knocked me over you could at least say excuse me all bitchy shut the fuck up you were all but yelling to your friend no way you would've heard me and you were the one blocking the only way out in the first place also i did say sorry you just didn't hear me cause again you were being loud and obnoxious. and during health some lady came in to tell us not to smoke but she decided to stand directly behind my desk for like half the presentation so everyone was looking towards me and she kept talking about "penis cancer" with that phrasing specifically and saying that cigarettes maim and kill you which is such strange wording. maim? and i kept giggling which was embarrassing cause everyone was looking. and during band i had to stay behind cause i had to practice playing my solo and ensemble piece with the piano accompaniment but i had to like carry all my stuff over to the next room and the bell rang just then and the director made a big deal of not letting anybody out until i got out but i had to like grab my reeds and put my bocal in the top and then get a good grip on my four foot long instrument that will fall apart if you grab it wrong and also i forgot to put my reed water back in the case so i still have it with me right now. also we need to play a chromatic scale for the judges at solo and ensemble but i fucking can't do that. i can go from low f to high d which is just shy of two octaves but that's iffy as is i keep fumbling two notes specifically so i don't know if i can extend it to a proper two octaves by the actual event which is saturday TWO fucking days from now at 10:50 am gross. and gym is just bad always and the asshole blocking my way is in my gym class awkward ew. and my bag strap is broken and keeps falling apart because it's cheap as hell and i need a new one but don't really want to buy one but it's stressful carrying it around at all because the school has a really strict no backpacks during class policy and our principal is pissy about it even though none of the teachers care and technically any bag big enough to carry all your books in are banned which includes mine but it's so stupid i don't have time to go all the way across the school to get my bag then get to where my bus is and the buses leave five minutes after the last bell rings on the dot and my dad works everyday but thursday now and can't pick me up if i miss it and it's kind of far to walk and especially to snowy to walk lately and uuuuuggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh. sometimes i don't feel real when i'm at school i think back on my day and it feels like that that happened to another person that isn't me. i feel like that's a symptom of a problem but whateverrrrrr whatever. i'm functional so not like it matters at all
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obeymebutnotlikethat · 3 years ago
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Dark Au: Chapter 6
Previous chapters:Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, chapter 5
"I should've let you die."
"Well, I should've killed myself when I had the chance. Look on the bright side: there is always next time."
They winced as they grabbed onto their shoulder and leaned back. It was taking every ounce of strength not to crumble upon the floor.
The good news is they survived Beel's rage. The bad news is they survived Beel's rage. All they wanted to do was go home but, complaining would only ruin Diavolo's plans; ruining Diavolo's plans meant Lucifer on their ass. So, sucking it up was the only option.
Well, until they went into their room and cried. Crying alone in their room sounds good right now. It would be better than having to travel in demon-infested hallways. Right, they can't call it an infestation because that's wrong. Infestation is the term for bugs but, some of them look like bugs.
"I shouldn't have to be babysitting some easy kill," Mammon complained, "Don't look at me like that. Your broken body does nothing for my image."
They glared and swung their bag at him. He might be a Demon but, they concluded he wasn't much of a threat.
"Whose fault is it I'm like this?"
"You're saying it's mine?" he scoffed, "You were the one pissing off Beel."
They bit back a wince and narrowed their eyes at him. If they closed their eyes, they could re-imagine their body going through the wall again. The thought of that appeared to make the pain worse, and they internally groaned.
"Mammon, MC."
They slid their eyes over towards Simeon. Perfect, they thought. He's the one they're looking for.
" Was starting to think you wouldn't be here," Mammon laughed.
"Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Mammon was getting irritated and bored. As Mammon has said before, he is very simple-minded."
"The hell I did!"
"Oh, right, that was just something I believe is true. Which it is," They sighed, "You wrote TSL, right?"
They watched Simeon blink in surprise. A part of them cheered that Satan's unnerving help on the school's stairwell was correct. While he did not directly say it, they were good at guessing. Another part also made them thankful Mammon was not as aggressive as his brothers. Considering, they bullied him over breakfast.
"I assume you heard something from Satan," Simeon stated as he watched MC nod, "I wrote it. Might I ask why you want to know?"
"We need Levi to make a pact with them for revenge," Mammon glared.
"I'm supposed to challenge Levi to a TSL quiz. It's not for revenge but-"
What was a good excuse? They couldn't use the "I-need-to-go-up-to-an-attic-that-Lucifer-threatened-me-to-stay-away-from" excuse. That would make them sound insane. How would they tell anyone that: while they were coming down from the drugs, they heard a voice coming from the attic? So, they limped their very prey-like body toward the sound, and Lucifer greeted them at the stairs.
"...I heard about the fallout between Belphie and Lucifer. I want to help fix their relationship."
It wasn't technically wrong. Mammon and Beel had mentioned Belphie to them while they were to stay in Beel's chambers. After the near-death experience with Beel, their wall was destroyed, as it bordered the kitchens'. So, after a lecture by Lucifer, they had to stay with Beel as he had an extra bed. Nearly dying at the hands of a hungry Demon makes no difference it seems.
They found no interest in another incident as their body refused to function. The quickest solution was utilizing Mammon to stay with them too. With two upset Demons, they hazily asked about the other bed.
"Is that so?" Simeon smiled.
"Yes, we stayed up binging it all night. Do you have an upper hand?"
They beamed with joy as Simeon led them to a side room and explained the upcoming chapters. Even though they barely knew Simeon, a part of them was pleased he would divulge such information. Then, their whole being was as the quiz began.
Before they knew it, the school day had ended, and they gathered in the council room for the quiz. Surprisingly, everyone decided to attend. They probably wanted to see them fail, they thought.
The quiz was going better than expected, and their body screamed at them: one, for the still residing pain throbbing amongst their lower back and a pull at their shoulder; two, for the information they were about to repeat.
Levi is the biggest TSL fan in the House of Lamentation, and he's also the Avatar of Envy and a Demon. Mammon told them earlier that it's difficult for Levi to lose his cool. They assumed it had something to do with him being an Otaku.
"How long are we going to keep this charade up? "
They frowned at Levi's complaint.
"MC, it's time to exact our revenge with the big guns. Let's see how Levi likes this!" Mammon cackled.
They were so dead. Somehow, Mammon always seemed to go overboard with his cockiness.
"Well, this is interesting," Diavolo grinned.
Of course, they were mere entertainment for these Demons; unless he was referencing Mammon's child-ness antics. They were too busy observing the possible risks as the other brothers seemed intrigued.
"It seems my advice is about to pay some dividends. Excellent," Satan smirked.
"Are you telling us you provided aid to them? How very wicked of you," Asmo drawled, "I suppose I should ask your take, Beel."
"You'll have to pay me with food."
"Whose idea was it to invite him here? All he's done is eat and salivate over MC," Asmo raved.
They rolled their eyes at the catfight and tried to ignore the fact Beel wanted to eat them. Shit, they wanted to sit down. Building up the courage, they stepped closer to Levi.
"Alright, let me tell you about volume 9 of TSL," they grinned.
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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years ago
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DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.
FartsApp
Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.
For me at least.
While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.
Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.
Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we���re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.
Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.
Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).
During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.
That one, surreal night.
I still can’t believe it happened.
Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.
Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.
Yes: I know how lucky I am.
It’s been 4 months since he found out.
And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.
Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.
Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.
Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.
Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…
No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.
I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).
“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”
I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.
The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.
But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.
And he obviously didn’t.
He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.
I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.
Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:
Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”
Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”
Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”
Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!
Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”
He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.
One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…
Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”
Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”
Dave: “I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”
Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”
Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.
Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.
Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”
Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”
Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?
Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”
Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”
Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.
Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).
I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.
It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.
Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.
I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.
I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).
Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”
Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?
Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.
And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.
Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.
Another couple of minutes passed.
Was he making another…?
Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”
Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?
I literally pitched a tent in my pants.
There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!
It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.
The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.
Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.
But I had to tell him.
Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”
But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.
Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”
Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…
Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”
Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”
Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”
Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.
He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.
After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.
I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.
Dave: “Tim… come here…”
I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.
Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.
Another fart, just as big as the first one.
He was on fire that day!
Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.
Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.
Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”
He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.
Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”
Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.
I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.
Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.
Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”
Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”
Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.
I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.
This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.
“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.
I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.
“Dave… what?”
It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.
“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”
“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”
I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.
Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.
“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”
“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”
“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”
“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”
And he hang up.
He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.
I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.
But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.
And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.
“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.
It was Dave. Again.
He sent another video.
I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.
He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.
“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”
Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.
“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”
He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!
“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.
“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.
My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.
My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.
And I couldn’t be happier.
End of Episode 1
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imgoingtocrash · 4 years ago
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my teen angst bullshit has a body count
by @imgoingtocrash for @hailxhydra
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Jim Morita, Hydra Agents
Summary:
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
Two years ago, Peter Parker escaped Hydra's control and was taken in by the Avengers. Traumatized from the experience but healing, Peter's starting to get a hang of this whole normal teenager thing. However, when Flash brings up a happily forgotten trigger from his past, Tony comes to give comfort and remind Peter that he's worth more to his loved ones than Hydra could have ever dreamed of.
Read on AO3
My fic for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! Hopefully you enjoy it @hailxhydra!!!
Full fic under the cut as requested by the exchange:
“—But I’m asking if it’s a good movie.”
“I’m telling you, it was either picking Selena for the third time or Rio, which is a stupid animated movie about birds.” Ned shakes his head dramatically. “Everybody else will fall asleep, and if everybody falls asleep, then Misses Rodriguez will give us a pop quiz instead of letting us have a movie day.”
“But I like animated movies. We like them. We watched A Bug’s Life like last week!”
“Because you hadn’t seen it before! Your film under-education is criminal, and if I don’t help you fix it, who will?!”
Ned has a point. Being kidnapped and raised by Hydra after the age of six really limits a person’s entertainment consumption, as he’s learned more than ever now that he’s surrounded by other teenagers who grew up with movies and tv shows to watch at their fingertips.
“I mean, Steve does have a list…” Peter points out weakly.
Steve keeps it in his little notebook along with other things he doesn’t understand the references to yet. He tried to encourage Peter to start something like that in the beginning, but Peter’s never really considered himself a list person. He just sort of soaks up the world now, like a curious sponge. Sometimes it means he has to Google things he doesn’t really understand the meaning of, but it also means a lot of movie nights with both the other Avengers and Ned, which is actually sort of a bonus.
Ned stops them in the hall. “Yeah, but are they cool movies or are they movies for old people and war veterans who haven’t been alive for the last 100 years?”
“...You know that I don’t really know the difference.”
Ned gives a sad shake of his head. “You’re lucky you liked Star Wars, bro. Otherwise we’d be in a very different place right now, like, friendship-wise.”
“You still didn’t answer the question.”
Peter got to pick the movie for their classes’ Cinco de Mayo party. Peter’s not sure what either movie has to do with the Mexican Army’s historical defeat of the French, but he only picked Selena because Ned suggested it. Maybe he should be regretting that choice, if the other option was harmless little Spanish birds.
“You know, Parker, I have a question,” comes a very annoyingly musical voice from behind them.
Peter just barely resists to roll his eyes. Every time with this kid. Not that Peter is any less of a kid than Flash Thompson, technically, but he definitely feels more mature.
Ned, also more mature than some of their other classmates, completely ignores Flash.
“You’ll be humming the disco medleys for weeks, I promise.”
“Wait, wait, disco? I thought you said this was supposed to take place in the 80s and 90s?”
“Music endures, dude.”
“Hey, el idiots, I’m talking to you!” Flash interrupts again.
“That’s not even how you—” Peter starts to correct, only to realize he’s stepped directly in it when Ned groans.
Flash laughs obnoxiously to himself. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, Penis?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter grumbles. It doesn’t really matter what he says now. Flash has the attention that he wanted, which means he won’t bug off until the bell rings and until he has the last laugh. And that always happens, because he’s really the only one entertained by all of the poking and prodding at Peter.
Peter breathes in, steeling himself. He’s survived worse. So much worse. Bullies with electric prongs and steel cages and control over every other aspect of his life. This is just high school. Normal kids survive it all the time, even when there are bullies and bad test grades and cliquey subcultures. This is just one privileged asshole who thinks Peter’s an easy target.
In some way, Peter’s actually proud of that. No one has ever seen him as un-intimidating before. Even his Hydra captors knew that if they lost control of him as an asset, he could easily turn on them.
(Part of him always asks why he never did. If he wasn’t evil, if he wasn’t like them, then why didn’t he just fight back? But Sam says that’s just his mind trying to deal with trauma, and Peter is trying really, really hard to get better at ignoring those kinds of intrusive thoughts.)
Speaking of talking to himself, Flash snaps his fingers in Peter’s face to get his attention back.
“You’d think for such a genius, you’d be a lot quicker on the uptake.” Flash shakes his head like he’s disappointed.
“Please just get to the point already,” Ned begs, throwing his head back.
“Correcting people all the time, sucking up attention with the whole goody two-shoes act. I’m saying you’re a teacher’s pet, loser. And one day, everyone’s going to see it for the act that it is, and when they do—”
Peter’s hearing blanks out.
Pet.
It echoes.
C’mere, Pet.
Stay down, Pet!
He was property, he was an animal, he was a weapon, their weapon, he was a mutant and he deserved it, needed it, he was the Spider, a mongrel, nothing, he was nothing and no one and Hydra was the only home a no-good runt like the Spider would ever have and he should be grateful—Kneel, Pet, be a good boy and kneel for your masters—but he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t—
Foolish Pet, you wouldn’t survive out there.
You need us, Pet. You’ll always need us.
“Peter?”
He returns to the moment with one heaving breath, only to realize he can’t take in another.
His collar is too tight, they always put it on too tight and if he complains they hit him and if they hit him he bleeds and it gets on his clothes and he won’t get any more until his bath and he hates bath time because they water is cold and stings his skin and the soap is so harsh it burns his nostrils and they’re watching him he knows they’re watching because they never leave him alone because if they did he would try to escape, he would—
“Peter, what’s wrong, are you—?”
He did. He escaped and ran away but now they have him again and he can’t live like this, not when he knows about best friends and pizza and friendly ribbing and how warm he feels when Tony pulls Peter close on the couch and presses a kiss to his head and tells Peter that he’s proud. He can’t be here anymore, he has to go, he has to run.
“Peter, wait!”
Tony is, to say the least, nervous when he gets a call from Midtown Tech’s front office.
He trusts Peter by now. The kid has come a long, long way since he snuck onto the Avengers helicarrier during the chaos of a Hydra raid. Skinny as a rail, scared, brainwashed...abused.
The Spider.
Peter didn’t like being with Hydra since they were the ones that made him enhanced, but he sure as hell didn’t want to be locked in an enclosed space with a bunch of Avengers at the time either.
As was evident by the fight he put up until Steve knocked him out. Steve still feels bad about cold-clocking a kid when Peter jokingly brings it up now, but Tony’s never shamed Steve for the decision. It was that or some kind of drug injection with the way Peter fought back tooth and nail, confused and defensive. Practically feral, from the well-fitting clothing to his lack of speech.
It was all for the better, though, once they got him back to the compound.
Peter was a talkative kid once he let himself be. Funny, too. Almost normal, if you forgot the mutant spider genetics and years of torture from a bunch of descendant assholes that seemed to hate and resent the very thing they created.
That’s why Tony agreed to let Peter start school. Real, normal, human school just like every other teenager in America attended until they finished all twelve years of it.
Because he needed to be normal, sometimes. He needed movie nights, [other things], and most importantly, friends that were his own age rather than a bunch of adult superheroes that often acted like children.
But also because Peter wanted to go, and Tony had a really, really hard time denying anything that the kid wanted when he could so easily provide.
Peter had such a hard time wanting anything, in the beginning. What did Peter want to wear instead of the plain, grey, dirty sweatpants from Hydra? What did Peter want to eat now that he could have an adequate amount of calories for his enhanced, still growing body? What did he want to watch? Listen to?
All of these choices were suddenly available to Peter, but shaking years of being denied any kind of want, any kind of choice took a toll on him that took a lot of work to get through.
Peter had put in the work. Unsurprisingly well. He was smart—tactically from years of being trained for missions, academically from whatever education Hydra must have thrust upon him. Not so much socially, but they were doing better as Peter spent more time around people that actually cared about him and lobbed insults around to tease rather than to actually cause emotional harm.
But was that enough...training, of sorts, to be around a bunch of teenagers? Sure, Peter was technically also a teenager, but they’d found him at 14. Tony still looked at Peter and saw the wide-eyed little kid sitting in the corner of a containment cell, flinching every time Tony moved.
Two years later and a lot of growth physically and emotionally, but was it enough?
Tony was hesitant about it, wish-washing the entire summer with maybes and I’ll think about its until the deadline arrived and Tony had to actually make the call.
Peter had pleaded, citing an extensive, cheesy list of films that made him want the high school experience himself for some reason. He very genuinely enjoyed shopping for school supplies. He passed Midtown’s entrance exam with results that faked years progressing in homeschooling that Tony knew would have been true, if Peter had gotten the chance to grow up like he was supposed to.
So, Tony eventually said yes, knowing that one day this call might come and Tony would have to be prepared for whatever was on the other end of the line.
An “incident” of some kind. Whatever that meant. The secretary was entirely unclear, only insistent that Peter’s family should get down to the premises immediately to handle things.
That was Tony.
Part of Tony couldn’t fathom why Peter chose him out of everyone on the team to latch onto. Another part wasn’t exactly shocked. Trauma recognized trauma, after all, even if the context was entirely different.
Tony knew what it was like to be belittled. To be seen as something you weren’t. To be abused by someone you never really trusted in the first place.
He and Peter talked a lot in that little containment cell. Hours of Tony blabbering like he always did when he was uncomfortable and Peter just sitting and waiting, waiting, waiting for the strikes to start coming.
When he said his first words.
When he told Tony his name—not Spider, but Peter Parker, a little boy from Queens who lost his parents and his whole normal life in the same night, according to FRIDAY’s records.
When he touched Tony’s arm for the first time and got a smile instead of a reprimand.
He waited and Tony was patient and it was a rough road, but...Tony was kind of a parent, now. A parental figure, at least, among others of varying degrees of quality and influence on a scarred teenager.
He was Peter’s family, whether either of them was any good at it in a traditional way or not.
And also, you know. His money was paying Peter’s tuition. His time went into helping Peter study for the entrance exam. His name was technically on Peter’s manufactured birth certificate because he was the one forging it and it wasn’t like anyone else was offering when the subject came up.
And maybe, a little, because he cared about Peter. Loved him. Wanted to be what Peter needed, what he deserved, and what better way to do that than to write his name on a piece of paper that signified the job he sort of kind of wanted?
Tony slams the car door behind himself after pulling into Midtown’s parking lot, putting on his sunglasses for the brief trip into the early afternoon sun. He’s checking security cameras, exits, and also preparing a hefty sum of cash to go into Principal Jim Morita’s bank account as well as a handful of government officials, if that’s what it takes.
Again, not that Tony doesn’t trust Peter, it’s just...when you get this kind of call and your kid is a highly trained former assassin, you prepare exit strategies on multiple fronts.
It’s been two months and Peter has only made one friend at this place. The kids can’t all be angels like Peter proclaims Ned Leeds to be. If one of them touched Peter out of nowhere or said the wrong thing, maybe Peter lashed out. Maybe Peter forgot to hold his strength back like he’s been training to do. Maybe something was broken.
Maybe it’s something far worse.
Tony has to be ready for that. He has to be ready for whatever it takes to protect Peter.
At the very least, the police aren’t on site. That’s probably a good sign that they’re willing to leave this as an internal matter for now.
The unhelpful secretary of before leads Tony out of the office by the arm at a quick pace, not explaining the situation at all before they arrive at the scene. Whatever it is. Tony was definitely expecting more blood or yelling or...anything, really.
A small crowd stands outside of a door, marked by a golden plaque to be the janitor’s closet.
Leaning on the door itself with his arms resolutely crossed is a kid about Peter’s age. Short black hair, light brown skin, dressed so similarly to Peter that Tony’s starting to wonder if that’s where Peter’s new obsession with those geeky little t-shirts has come from.
“Mister Leeds—” An older Asian man pleads, dressed in a suit and standing up straight with all of the authority he can seem to muster against the stone wall that is the teen in front of him.
The kid shakes his head in response. So this is Ned, then.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not moving. If he wants to stay in there to calm down, he should be allowed to stay in there.”
“I’m sure his parents—”
“He doesn’t even have—you don’t even know what he’s gone through!”
“And you do?”
“Well...kinda? No. But—but he’s obviously freaking out and everyone crowding around him is only going to make it worse!”
The adult rubs a hand across his forehead, stressing at a fold of wrinkles that settles there from the stress.
“Ned, I recognize you’re just trying to be a good friend, but this is a problem for—”
Tony clears his throat, catching the attention of both parties.
The older man sighs. “Oh, good. Thank you, Theresa, you can go on back to the office. We’ll take it from here.”
The secretary nods, brusquely turning around and heading off, leaving Tony there to be examined by both Ned and what must be the principal.
“Mister Stark, I’m glad you could come down, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Principal Morita.”
“Obviously you know who I am,” Tony replies, shaking the man’s hand. “What did happen, exactly? Theresa was sparse on the details.”
“I told you, it’s Flash’s fault! He was being a dick and—” Ned shouts.
“Mister Leeds.” The principal interrupts, stern. “Another student apparently said something...unkind to Peter. He didn’t take it well and locked himself in the closet. I haven’t even been able to assess the situation properly yet. Normally I would start with asking Peter’s side of the story, but...”
He looks to the closet, where Ned still stands, defensive.
“The bouncer is a real stickler, got it,” Tony jokes, aiming a small smile at Ned. “Peter does seem to attract the protective type.”
“Oh,” Ned says, suddenly meeting Tony’s eyes and gaping like a fish. He seems to have finally realized exactly who he’s talking to. “Oh, wow. Mister Stark, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan, like, so huge. Peter tells me to shut up about you at least three times a day. When he showed me a picture of you guys I was like, ‘Oh my god, your dad is Tony Stark!’ and he was like ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess you’d know who he is, huh?’ like he totally didn’t get how awesome it is that you’re Iron Man. And I know you’re only kind of his dad, but still—”
“It’s suddenly become very clear to me why you two are friends,” Tony responds, keeping his smile on.
It’s actually kind of sweet to see that Peter’s found someone to confide in, even if he’s seemingly left out the more traumatic elements. But he also knows that Peter can hear them through the door, and he wants to get to the kid as fast as possible instead of dawdling for time.
If Peter wants to see him, that is.
He does, doesn’t he? Tony has been there for everything, so far. Every breakdown when the choices became too much, when the world outside of Peter’s little cell and all of the things he did that he wishes he could forget attack him at night. He hasn’t gotten old enough to not want Tony around when he’s upset, right?
“Sorry, Mister Stark. Sorry,” Ned apologizes. “I’m just nervous and worried about Peter and—”
“I get it, kid. You’re good.” He gives a reassuring grasp to Ned’s shoulder. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I really need to see Peter now. You can ask him yourself, but I’m usually the exception to any rule about Peter wanting to be alone.”
“Right, yeah. I’ll just—”
Ned turns to open the door, but gives Morita a shifty look, like he doesn’t trust the man not to dive bomb in if given the chance.
“Peter—”
“Let him in,” replies Peter’s strained voice. He’s definitely been crying. Poor kid.
Ned pulls back and nods at Tony, stepping aside to let him through.
“You did a good job protecting him, Leeds. Thank you,” he says to the teen before stepping into the dimly lit closet and shutting the door behind him.
The room smells musty and over-powerful at the same time thanks to the potent combination of cleaners and the mop cart sitting so close together. Out of anywhere Peter could have picked, this probably isn’t the kindest to his sense of smell if it’s making Tony already scrunch his nose.
It’s lit by a single pull-chain light bulb, and in the shadows of it sits Peter, curled into himself and leaning against a rusty metal shelf filled with paper towels, cleaning equipment, and a few bottles of product that have to be expired.
“Hey, Pete.” Tony frowns at the cracked floor tile, but settles himself next to Peter anyway. His back catches some kind of spray bottle sitting on the shelf that digs uncomfortably into his back.
Peter sniffs, not looking up from the cradle of his arms. “Hey.”
Tony heaves a sigh, for the drama. “So, I hear you got your first bully.”
Peter shrugs. “Guess so.”
“That Ted kid is pretty nice. He’s a good friend.”
“Yeah. And his name is Ned.”
Tony stops beating around the bush. “What happened, Peter?”
“It was fine. It was good, you know? I got an A+ on my Spanish test, and Misses Rodriguez offered to let me choose the movie we were gonna watch for the Cinco de Mayo party as a reward. I didn’t even know any of the movies, but Ned said Selena was good because Jennifer Lopez is hot, so that’s what I picked. It was a good day, Tony!”
“...But?”
“But then Flash—”
“I meant to ask, is that his actual name? Like, legally?”
“No.”
“Oh thank god.”
“Flash said…he said I was a…” Peter’s hesitant to let it out.
“Pete, a lot of kids at this age are testing boundaries. They’re going to say a lot of stupid, insensitive, offensive—”
“He said I was a teacher’s pet.”
There’s a long minute of silence. Tony blinks curiously a few times. He doesn’t want to belittle what Peter’s feeling, but he also doesn’t understand why it’s caused him so much stress.
“I know, I know it’s—but they used to—” Peter swallows hard, probably only delaying another wave of tears. “Sometimes, before, they would call me…”
“Pet.”
Peter nods, starting to shake next to him on the floor, their arms lightly touching at just Tony saying the nickname.
“They liked it. I think it made them feel better about themselves if they acted like I wanted it. Like—like being locked in the cages or collared or—or being muzzled was good for me.”
“You need to learn a lesson, little pet. Be a good pet and eat your dinner. Stop your crying, pet. No more of your barking, pet.” Peter quotes with venom flinging from every syllable. “But I didn’t want that, Mister Stark! I promise! They gave me these powers and I didn’t want to be their pet and they made me—”
“Peter, I know. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, I know.”
Tony curls Peter into his side, rubbing his back consolingly.
“When Flash called me that I just—I felt the collar around my neck again and I couldn’t breathe though the muzzle and they kept kicking the cage even though it hurt my ears and I could never sleep in there because it was so small and—”
“Peter—” Peter’s hyperventilating. He’s panicking, Tony realizes. Probably just like he did initially. A flashback that triggered him into having a panic attack.
“And I know that’s not what Flash meant but I was back there and I can’t—I can’t stop—”
Peter breaks into sobs, burying his face into Tony’s shirt and clutching on tight.
“Oh, Pete. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Tony soothes.
He presses a kiss to Peter’s hair, unsure when he became this tender. Probably the moment he realized this was the way he wanted someone to treat him in the midst of his worst, most vulnerable moments.
“Sometimes the bad memories come back unexpectedly, it’s alright.”
“But don’t wanna think about it anymore!” Peter cries childishly.
If it wouldn’t break Tony’s ribs, Peter would probably start banging at his chest in frustration.
“What if it gets bad and I don’t talk anymore and I can’t go to school like a normal kid and I lose everything and then you won’t want me anymore because I can’t get over this and stop being a stupid animal who needs its owners to—”
“Peter Parker, no. Absolutely not.”
Tony pushes Peter away so he can hold the boy’s face in his hands. So that he can fucking imbue into this kid how much he is loved and cherished and human.
“You’re not property, and you’re not an animal. What they did to you was wrong, and you know that now. I know that you do.”
Not just because Peter’s been to therapy since integrating with the Avengers, but also because he’s talked to all of him during his recovery from the horrors of his earlier childhood. About how his life felt before and how it feels better now. How he wouldn’t have left in the first place if he really wanted to be a part of Hydra like they raised him to want.
He’s not the child soldier they raised anymore. He’s so much more than they ever allowed him to be in that awful place.
He loosens his grip on Peter’s face only to bring him back again with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe if Peter feels him, touches him, the kid will remember all of the growth he’s made, the family he’s gained.
“Buddy, you are getting better. I know it. I’ve seen it. You know we’re all so proud of you and the progress you’ve made.”
Tony sighs. Part of him wants to sugarcoat it. That Peter has seen the worst of the world and now he’ll just be able to move on from it scott-free. It’s what he deserves, but Tony knows from experience that nothing in life is that sort of kind.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t have setbacks. I have had setbacks. Healing from the bad stuff is really, really hard, but it doesn’t make you anything that they said you were. You’re a wonderful, good kid who deserves everything he’s worked so hard for. And you’re going to get it because you have me and the team and your new best friend behind your back. You’re not alone, you’re not in a cage, you’re—you’re home, Pete. You understand?”
Peter sniffs, a sign that he’s worked himself up again, but his weak nod into Tony’s chest tells him that some of them at least might be happier tears.
“Listen to me, Pete. And I mean really, truly listen.” He looks down at the snot-covered, tear-stained teenager practically in his lap. He does love Peter. He wouldn’t have gone this far for any other kid in the world.
“It doesn’t matter what happens—hitches, mishaps, a dumb teenage mistake. You’re our kid now, Peter. You’re never going back to Hydra. Never. Not with me around.”
He knows it means something to say it out loud rather than leaving it to be assumed. He doesn’t have as much of a problem admitting it as he thought he might.
“I’m never giving you up, or letting you go, or treating you like anything other than a person. Do you understand me? That is something you never, ever have to worry about. Not from me.”
Peter sobs against him. This time it feels a lot more like relief. A release in the safety of Tony’s arms that Peter hasn’t really allowed himself, even after two years of being free of Hydra.
Peter didn’t tell the team everything. He may never even tell Tony everything. But this is one more thing Peter doesn’t have to carry alone, and Tony is happy to help their kid navigate the horrors it's brought back into his improving life.
They sit there for another minute, Peter’s whimpers muffled in Tony’s dress shirt. He’s sure the principal and Peter’s friend are getting antsy. But all the same it gives Peter another chance to calm down, and this time he seems a lot lighter when he picks his head up to look at Tony.
“Feel better?”
Peter gives a sniffle, but accompanies it with a nod and bright, attentive eyes.
“Look, I think school’s a bust for the day. Let’s go home. Whatever you wanna do, just you and me. Nobody else needs to hear about this unless you want to tell them, okay?”
“And if you wanted, I guess…”
Peter tilts his head, expectant.
“We could...nah, it’s probably offensive, right?”
“What?” Peter insists. Tony tried to warn him, but Tony also can’t resist an idea once it pops into his head.
“I just thought, you know, if you wanted—if you thought it would help, we could get you a—“ He almost ruins it, but catches himself.  “An animal. Like a dog or something.”
Peter is silent. He bites at his lip, contemplative. Looks in the direction of a mop bucket in the corner.
“Is that bad? You don’t have to, I just thought it might make you associate that word with good things, but if not—“
Peter finally meets his eyes with a tentative grin on his face.
“What kind of dog?”
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marvelobsessedteenager · 4 years ago
Text
Playing Cupid
Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader
Warnings: Fluff?? Hopefully lmfao, a sprinkle of angst, My Best Friend’s Wedding Spoilers? (edit: cuRSING LMFAO COMPLETELY FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE)
Summary: You’ve been playing Cupid your entire life, setting people up left and right, and have never put much thought into who would be your eternal soulmate. That is until you met Tom Holland. But you don’t know if he feels the same way you do, and you only find out when someone else decides to be your matchmaker.
A/N: Heyo! First fanfiction piece and mAN am I nervous, haha. Enjoy? Also, the scene that I’m talking about below is linked for those of you that haven’t seen the movie :)
-------
“I don’t know what to say, y/n/n. I’m going to look like a div and-“
Not wanting to hear Harrison’s complaining, you quickly pinch his lips in between your fingers and shush him, ��First of all, you already look like a div and that’s pretty much never going to change.”
Haz rolls his eyes and grunts as you continue, “Second of all, it’s just a conversation, Haz. Amelia’s pretty chill and is probably the easiest person to talk to. You’ll easily fall into conversation with her. You guys like the same things, why do you think I chose her out of all the girls?”
Ah, yes. That was your job after all. Well, not a job job, though you wish you’d get paid for setting people up with each other. You’d be a billionaire before you reach the age of 25.
But it was your job as a friend to be like a bachelorette for others and help them reach the love they crave. It was quite simple, really. Harrison claimed it had been a gift you were born with - a power sent by the gods above. It seemed like everyone you’d pair up ended up thriving as a couple.
Perhaps it really was a gift, and you were destined to you use it for good.
Right now, you, Haz, Tom, and Harry were inside a cafe giving Harrison the pep talk before his blind date. Amelia was practically your best friend - besides the three dumbasses you were currently with - and was constantly grumbling about not being able to find a guy she genuinely likes. When asked about her interests, you noticed they were strikingly similar to Harrison’s, who was, coincidentally, also single. Ergo, you set them up, knowing they’d be the perfect couple.
“Now,” you run your hand through his untamed hair that he’d spent hours stress-tugging, “Go out there and talk to her. You’ll do great, Hazzy.”
He stares at you intently, blue eyes boring directly into yours, clouded with immense fear. You could tell he was on the verge of backing out, so you take this as your chance to lighten up the situation.
You sigh as you fix his collar while maintaining eye contact, “I’d totally be in love with your dazzling ocean eyes but you’re not my type so stop staring at me, and go stare at her.” You tease and look up at him through your eyelashes, tilting your head towards where Amelia was sitting, waiting for Harrison to ‘arrive’.
He chuckles, “Right. How could I forget?” He gives you a sly smirk, and leans down to whisper in your ear, “Your type is everything Tom is.”
He pulls back fast enough to catch your fleeting eyes and the slight blush that crept up on your cheeks at the mention of your crush.
Well, less of a crush and you’d admit, you’re maybe, slightly, completely and utterly in love with Tom.
Harrison, the one who’d introduced you guys - stating ‘fate has brought you two together’ - effortlessly guessed that you were head over heels for Tom. He even began calling you ‘Cherry’ whenever he saw you go red at the mention of his best friend.
Your friendship began when you went to your local pub for a light drink with one of your closest co-workers. She’d spotted a cute guy whose eyes never left hers, even from across the room. A pub quiz was starting in a few minutes, and you’d told her that that was her chance to go and see if the chemistry was as real as it looked.
Of course, being the good friend she was, she immediately tossed that idea out the window.
“I can’t leave you here alone,” she’d said. Fortunately, it didn’t take long for you to convince her to go. With the quiz starting in a couple seconds, you searched around for a lonesome guy and spotted Harrison.
You downed the rest of your scotch and strutted over to confidently sit beside him.
Before he even got the chance to speak, you opened your mouth and blurted out everything in a word vomit: “Hey, I’m y/n and my friend’s watching because I told her that I’d talk to you and start up a “romance” since that was the only way I could really push her to leave me to talk to the guy that she’s had her eyes on so please just shake my hand and we’ll sit here and talk or do the quiz or whatever the fuck you want, just go along with it?”
You ended it with a lopsided smile, your hanging hand awaiting his own.
Luckily, he’d laughed it off and clasped your open palm. You and him got on like a house on fire, and instantly became close. Later on, he introduced you to Tom.
You never believed in love at first sight, but, fuck, Tom sure was a sight.
“Oi, hurry up, it’s hot as shit in these disguises,” Harry whines as he tugs the collar of his hoodie, interrupting your train of thought.
You shake your head, “Anyway,” you clear your throat, “Remember, it’s just a girl.”
He closes his eyes, chest rising as he takes a deep breath and nods, “It’s just a girl.”
“Attaboy,” you turn him around and push his shoulders, “Go get her, tiger.”
You take a seat with the boys at a booth that was directly in the sight of your friends with Amelia’s back pointed in your direction. You watch with pride as Haz rolls his shoulders and walks over to Amelia, politely touching her arm. He sits in front of her and starts up a conversation, and has her shyly tucking her hair behind her ear and giggling.
“So,“ Tom says lowly, making you jump slightly at the sudden close proximity, “we just sit inside in these ridiculous disguises and watch them?”
You gasp, offended by his words, and playfully slap him across his chest, “These are not ridiculous. they’re fool-proof.”
“Right. ‘Cause no one wonder why we’re wearing hats and sunglasses inside. And it’s totally normal for the three of us to be hiding behind our menus.” He mocks, sending you a quick wink that would’ve made you weak to your knees had you been standing.
“Shut up Thomas, let me concentrate.” You giggle, pushing his face away, despite the gnawing feeling of wanting him even closer.
For an entirety of 3 excruciatingly long hours, you intently watch the couple, paying extra attention when they finally - finally - stand up to say goodbye.
You gasp as Harrison charmingly holds her hand and plants a kiss on it. You grab both Harry and Tom’s cheeks, shoving them into yours as you squealin delight, “It’s working!”
You feel Tom smile into your cheek, “You love playing Cupid, don’t you, y/n/n?”
“Oh, you bet. It’s kinda sad I don’t get to shoot people asses with an arrow to get them to fall in love but the reaction is enough to satisfy, I guess.”
Harry and Tom let out a loud laugh as you watch Haz walk Amelia out and return to the group with a dreamy smile.
“I take it it went well, didn’t it lover boy?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, as Haz jokingly punches his arm.
“She’s so..perfect. Honestly, it’s- I’m literally speechless. I asked her if she’d like to go on a second date and she said she’d love to.”
You grin widely at the revelation and was about to say how proud you are when you receive a text from Amelia, and immediately check to see if she was right. To your horror, she was.
You facepalm and slide your hand down your face as you bring your eyes to meet Haz’s, looking at him in disappointment.
What a fucking idiot.
His face drops, and he tenses, instantly panicking, “What? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Did she say something?”
“Haz, honey.” You smile sympathetically, “Maybe next time, check to see if your fly is down before the date.”
———
When the four of you return home, you cross out Haz’s name from the list on the whiteboard, and happily clasp your hands together as you turn to face the trio.
“All right, Haz’s mission has been a success.”
Harry snorts, “Yeah, even if she saw the Spongebob Squarepants underwear. Tell me, which character did she see? Sandy or Mr. Krabs?”
Harrison lets out an exasperated sigh while Tom and Harry high-five each other, “I told you guys, I was in a hurry this morning and this was the only one left.”
You let out an amused giggle but stop when Harrison glares at you and clear your throat. “Children,” you lightheartedly scold with an accusing finger, “settle down, it’s not that funny.”
“Yes, it is!” Tom manages to say through his wheezing, and your heart squeezes at how adorable he looks when he throws his head back in laughter.
“Anyway!” You yell, rolling your eyes, successfully grabbing the boys’ attention, “I believe it’s Harry’s turn” you turn to smile mischievously at Harry, who was now cowering in fear.
He fidgets in his seat and profusely shakes his head, “Oh, no, no. I’m good, honestly.”
“Harry, I’ve seen you cry while watching Bride Wars and cuddling a life-sized teddy.”
“So? It’s sad.” He mumbles.
“It’s a comedy, for god’s sake.” You frantically dismiss the subject, "Look, I’ve already found the perfect girl. Her name’s Sarah, she goes to the University of Arts, London, and has the same interests as you. Plus, she’s super smart, which should come in handy, especially for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He raises his eyebrow.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You chuckle, waving your hands around.
He shoots daggers at you before his face shifts, and you can practically see the light bulb go off in his head, “You know, you keep talking about us guys getting girls, but what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Cupid fell madly in love with Psyche. If you’re Cupid, there must be someone you fancy. Isn’t there, Cherry?” Harrison grills you, and you figure this is his way of getting back at you for calling the boy’s attention to his zipper.
“Uh,” you gulp, mind completely blanking. For the first time in your life, you practically had no comeback. No snide remark. No sass. Nothing. Your mouth went dry as your eyes briefly connect with Tom’s. He clenches his jaw and bows his head, trying to keep his lid on his simmering jealousy at the thought of you liking someone.
Someone besides him.
See, Tom was also completely head over heels for you. But because of your personality, it was hard to tell whether your flirting was just a part of you, or if you were genuinely into him.
There was always an unspoken spark between the two of you, and even if it was regularly being pointed out by friends and family members, neither of you have talked about it, nor confronted it.
It was just..there. Existing in every space, no matter the time, and though the both of you longed for one another, the profound fear of rejection and stepping over the ‘friendship’ line terminated the thought of any sort of engagement from both sides.
You simply dismissed the electricity in the air with a white, yet massive lie: “We’re just friends.”
“Well, this Cupid isn’t done with her job just yet. I still have to work on Tom, too.” You stupidly point out, mentally facepalming. Why would you say something like that?!
Great, you thought, I just forced myself to set up the love of my life with some girl and watch him happily fall in love with her and then he’ll get married and have kids and-
“I’ve..actually already got eyes on someone.”
Wait, what?
“Wait, what?” You raise your eyebrows, flashing him an incredulous look.
“Yeah, I like someone. I might even be in love with her.”
“Oh.” You slap on a plastic grin before anyone notices your crest-fallen face, rapidly blinking away the tears that have gathered in your eyes, “I’m..happy for you.”
You feel hot flashes run down your spine and your heart shattering into multiple little pieces, each bit slicing your lungs until you felt like you were suffocating. You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot, once succumbing to the hopes of maybe, just maybe, he would’ve fallen for you, too.
But, then again, who were you to get your hopes up? It’s Tom. There was no way in hell he would’ve wanted someone like you.
You clear your throat to try to get rid of the massive lump that was lodged in your airpipe and give him a humorless laugh, “Well, I guess you’re off the list, too.” 
You turn and bit your lip, supressing the tears that were just on the verge of falling as you cross his name out. You sigh and make up an excuse to leave the boys’ curious stares, saying that you needed to go shopping for groceries and snacks for the upcoming movie night that you suddenly dreaded.
Maybe you should grab an extra bucket of ice-cream for yourself.
————
“Heyo! I got double the amount of snacks because I know you fat fucks will probably focus on the food rather than the mov-“ You look up and furrow your eyebrows at the unusual sight of an empty and peaceful living room. You couldn’t help but feel your heart lighten just a bit. Maybe you really need some alone time to think.
“In here, darling!” Tom’s wavering voice calls out from the kitchen.
Or, no alone time.
Regardless of what happened a few hours ago, butterflies erupt in your stomach at the nickname before you attempt to shake them away, telling yourself he wasn’t yours, berating your body at its inability to control itself. You sigh, placing yet another plastic smile, and stroll over to the kitchen.
“Hey, Tommy. Where are the rest of the dudes?”
“Just you and I today, love.” He beams, and you could’ve sworn you caught a glint of impishness in his eyes as he walks back to the living room with a large pizza box in his hand.
But, no. Again, he isn’t yours. 
Though that didn’t stop the fire in your chest to grow with curiosity, nor did it stop the thoughts of something special happening tonight. Maybe a confession, your brain hoped.
Oh, great, you roll your eyes, now my mind and my body are betraying me.
You feign a sigh and look down at your arms that were filled to the brink with snacks, “Well,” you shrug, “can’t let the snacks go to waste.”
Once you were sure his hands were empty, you drop all the snacks on him, giggling when he threw his fists up, ready to punch.
“Y/n!” He lightheartedly rebukes you.
“Sorry, my love.” you mockingly apologize and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, “I’m gonna go get changed.”
You run out into your room before you see his reaction and slam the door, placing your head into your hands, mouth dropping at what you’d just done.
Did you just kiss him?! 
Wait, no. 
Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was just a kiss on the cheek. A friendly kiss, no less. It’s not like you made out with him and told him you’re madly in love with him.
Wonder what would’ve happened if I went a little to the left and- no. No. Get a grip!
“Why can’t my body understand he doesn’t like me?” You whine in annoyance.
After putting on your comfy pj's, and cursing yourself underneath your breath, you waltz back into the living room, situating yourself at the other end of the couch, ignoring Tom’s confused gaze. Usually, there was not a single sliver of space between the two of you, but you figured tonight you’d have to control yourself.
“So, what’d the boys pick out?” You wonder out loud, trying to get rid of the tense awkwardness that settled in the gap between your bodies.
“Some movie called My Best Friend’s Wedding and- why are you sitting so far away?” You jump a little at the quick change of subject within a sentence.
“Wh-uh,” You stammer, rummaging through your brain for an excuse, “I might have a fever?” You state, though it comes out as a question. You add a fake cough to cover up for your lame excuse.
Tom stares at you skeptically before rolling his eyes, “You suck at lying. Come here,” He pulls you by your arms and places them around his waist while his circle your shoulders. Your typical position.
You felt confused. He liked - possibly loved - someone, yet continues to cuddle you and give you pet names. It felt like he knew something, a very specific secret, and was toying with your emotions. 
He offers you a slice of pizza when he saw your dazed expression, which instantly melted away as you began eating.
Neither of you focused on the movie, too busy moaning and eating away at the delicious pizza. Blindly, both of you reach for the last slice, resulting in mild hand-to-hand contact that set your body on fire.
You slowly look up at each other, eyes alight with warmness, before you narrow yours and snatch the slice away, “Mine!”
Tom seemed to snap out of his daze when you made a run for it, “Hey! That’s my slice! Y/N!”
He staggers to his feet, immediately running after your giggles that led him to the kitchen, where each of you was on opposite ends of the island.
Your lips curl into a menacing smile as you slowly bring the slice to your open mouth.
“Don’t,” Tom warns, gradually inching towards you.
“Or what?” You challenge.
“I..won’t talk to you for a week!”
With pursed lips, you look down at the slice, pretending to contemplate your decision before you shrug, “That’s not even a punishment-“
In a quick moment, you feel your stomach flip as you squeal and hit a hard surface, only to realize that surface is Tom’s rigid back. He’s currently holding your thrashing self over his shoulder, arms tightly gripping your legs.
“Put me down, you buffoon! I do not enjoy being this close to your ass!”
“Oh, please. Anybody would kill to be in your position.” He begins his walk back to the living room when you realize the slice laid face down on the ground, completely forgotten by Tom, but not by you.
You gasp loudly, attempting to reach for the idle pizza that seemed to be getting farther and farther away, “Wait, Tom! The pizza!”
He laughs and throws you onto the couch and lays on top of you, head on your chest. You pout and hope and pray to the gods above that he doesn’t hear the wild thundering of your heart.
You’re at the part of the movie where Julianne takes Micheal somewhere secret to confess her feelings towards him, and a snide remark casually slips from your lips.
“Those glasses make her look like Yzma from Kronk’s New Groove.”
“Oh my god, I can’t unsee that now.” He chortles wholeheartedly, and you feel the vibrations from his chest rattle your body. A jolt of love and happiness surges through your veins. His laughter was like music to your ears. You would listen to it all day if you could.
God, you’re so in love with this boy.
“Why didn’t she tell him before the wedding?” He questions after calming down, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You huff out in slight annoyance and pause the movie, turning your head to look at him, “Did you not just hear her whole rant?”
“I still don’t understand it, honestly.”
“Well..would you?” You ask, slightly afraid of the answer. You knew this question was a loaded one, that this wasn’t about the movie anymore. That is was time to confront him about what was killing you inside.
He furrows his brows, obviously caught off guard, “Would I what?”
“Um,” You suddenly sit up, body facing his, “Let’s say that we’re best friends-”
“You’re saying we’re not?” He cuts in, jokingly placing a hand on his chest, pretending to be hurt.
“-And you’re in love with me.” You roll your eyes, despite the ache in your ribs resulting from the intensity of the banging of your heart. I’m actually doing this, you think. “You’ve been in love with me for a while now. But you’re scared that I might not reciprocate those feelings. Would..would you tell me anyway?”
You knew that that was not the plot of the movie, nor was it the reason Julianne didn’t tell Michael. This was your plot now. Your story. 
He blankly stares at you for a moment before he speaks, “Well,” he starts off softly, grabbing your hand, and for a moment, you fear this might be his way of letting you down easy, “Maybe I do want to risk it. If I want to let you know, maybe I’d set something up. We’d be at home, alone, watching a romantic comedy that seems to almost match our issue. But, maybe I don’t want their ending. The one where one ends up heartbroken and the other marries someone else.”
His gentle eyes finally meet yours, and you feel yourself softening, “And maybe I’m hoping you don’t want their ending, either.”
At last, you feel most of your insecurities melting away, knowing he felt the same way you did. He cautiously inches towards your face, and you do the same, lips merely centimeters away when-
“Wait,” you push at Tom’s chest, causing him to look at you with wide, panicky eyes, “So, I was the girl you were talking about earlier?” You wince, just an ounce of anxiety lingering.
Tom scoffs and shakes his head lovingly, “Yes, you dumbass.” He goes to lean in again, and you stop him. Again.
“Wait, wait, wait.” At this point, Tom closes his eyes and huffs in frustration, “Did you just spoil the ending for me?” You ask with wide eyes, staring at him in disbelief.
“Oh, for the love of-“
He crashes his lips into yours, and you freeze for a moment before melting into him. He pulls at your waist until you’re practically straddling him, lips never detaching from one another. They move in sync, almost like they were merely made to fit and function as a unit.
Just when it was getting heated, you reluctantly pull away when you hear a ruckus near the front door.
“YES! WHO’S CUPID NOW?” Harrison barges in, pumping his fist in the air.
“You set this up?” You disbelievingly question in between your pants.
“Well, I did most of the work.” He smirks and shrugs his shoulder, just as Harry appears from the doorway, punching him in the arm, “I helped, too.” He grumbles.
You glance at Tom and your eyebrows shoot up, lightbulb instantly going off in your head, “Wow, guys.” You praise, voice dripping with slick sweetness, “I can’t believe you finally got me and Tommy together. Now I can finally kiss him whenever I want and call him whatever I want.”
“Isn’t that right, babycakes?” You dramatically coo, cradling Tom’s red face in your hands.
His eyes light up as he finally gets it and plays along, “That’s right my cuddly-wuddly.” He murmurs, rubbing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss.
You titter into the kiss when you hear gagging noises accompanied by “Ugh, gross!” And “Get a room!”
Tom pulls away, resting his forehead on yours, “I love you.” He whispers, almost afraid to break the fragility of the situation. 
“Likewise, movie star.” You tease with a suppressed smile.
He shakes his head and lovingly rubs small circles on your waist when you hear Harry’s booming voice, “Why is there a dead pizza slice on the ground?”
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maevescene · 5 years ago
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Not Like the Others, pt. 1
Fred Weasley x Slytherin Reader
A/N: Super sorry if the timelines don’t match up. I tried my best but I was having heaps of fun with this one :) Part 2 coming soon!!!
Warnings: None that I can think of, fluff maybe? 
Summary: You’re in Slytherin, and on the quidditch team. You have developed a crush on Fred Weasley over the past few months, and are trying to uncover if he feels the same about you. 
___
The buzzing atmosphere in the dungeon was making you slightly itchy and totally nauseous. It was Friday morning before breakfast, and the common room was already bustling; green and silver paraphernalia was slowly covering the walls whilst excited students chattered amongst each other. 
“Knock ‘em dead, Y/N.”  
“Good luck tomorrow!” 
“I’m going to congratulate you now, I can just see the sweet victory! Divination has served me well.”
It was the first Quidditch match for the school year tomorrow, and being your third year on the Slytherin team, it made no sense to you to feel so nervous. You were a great Chaser – the best on the team, in fact. Your captain Marcus Flint made note of this regularly to bring the others in line.
But this morning, you knew there was something toying with your mind and trying to put you off. As you headed to breakfast, you tried to understand your queasiness, but couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
“Y/N,” a voice called behind you in the common room. You turned around to see your best friend Adrian seated on the black velvet sofa in front of the fireplace holding One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
“Hey,” you greeted while sitting down next to him. He draped his arm behind you across the back of the couch. “Weird question, but are you feeling okay?” 
He looked at you, concerned. “I think so. Am I meant to not feel okay?” 
You shook your head. “I must be nervous or something,” 
“You? Nervous?” he asked mockingly. “Why should you be nervous?” 
You felt a tingle run down your spine as his fingers began to tickle your neck. You immediately snapped your head to your shoulder to make him stop, but his fingers kept wiggling, even with limitations. You let out giggles and ‘stop it!’s as protest and tried to pull his arm away until he let up. 
“What was that for?” 
“You not realising how great you are.” 
Adrian has been your best friend since you two were children. Your families had been good friends since they were at Hogwarts, so you spent plenty of time together, having sleepovers and spending summer’s at his parent’s place in the country, which is where you both received your Hogwarts acceptance letters. You would consider him you friend soulmate, if such a thing existed. But many of the other students saw you as something more. Like now, for instance, a group of girls in your year are sitting next to the windows looking out to the black lake, giggling and whispering while looking directly at you - obvious signs of gossiping. You knew nothing would happen with Adrian. You were too good of friends to let something like feelings come and ruin more than a decade of friendship. And besides, he was like a brother to you. 
“Let’s go. I don’t want to miss out on any of those chocolate croissants,” you said.
Adrian packed up his textbook and meandered with you to exit the common room. You snaked your arm around his to link you together, just for the fun of keeping those girls guessing. Adrian didn’t seem to mind, as he looked down at you with a smile. 
***
You sat with two of your other teammates in the Great Hall. The uneasiness still lingered, as if you’d missed the last step on one of the moving staircases, which was admittedly a frequent occurrence. It was starting to get irritating, since you never felt like this, especially not before Quidditch. 
Your friends were all making an effort to have a normal morning to try and take their minds off tomorrow, although you could tell the upcoming Herbology quiz and the latest news articles about Sirius Black were the least of their worries.
The four of you came to an agreement early in your first year on the team together — that there was to be no speak of Quidditch two days before a match. It came about after a rather nasty incident during your first game together, which was also to never be discussed again. Several Slytherin students came up to the group to wish you luck tomorrow, and you all thanked them. As soon as they left, it was back to non sensical topics before someone blurted out anything to do with Quidditch. At least it was making you feel better. 
“We’re going to slaughter them tomorrow,” a voice sounded from behind you. 
Draco Malfoy. 
He had a twisted smirk on his face, and placed a hand on your friend Cassius’ shoulder, which made him jump. By them, Malfoy was talking about your opposition for tomorrow afternoon – Gryffindor. “I’d give anything to wipe that smug look off of Potter’s face.” 
As you tore a piece of croissant off, the uneasiness began to scratch at you again. But this time, you could pin point the feeling. It was as if a pair of eyes were lingering on you, nagging you to turn around. You tried to ignore it, but it was becoming unbearable. You looked to your right towards the table of professors, but there was nothing. It was probably just those unusual nerves. But as you looked to your left, a pair of eyes locked with yours. 
Fred Weasley. 
You grinned at him as if it was a reflex. He smiled back with a glistening look in his eyes, then took a sip from his goblet. 
“Y/N?” Adrian said, nudging your side. You returned to the conversation, going red in the cheeks as you finally understood the uneasiness.
To say you were in love was an overstatement. I was just a silly crush that you had on Fred, nothing more. He was in a few of your classes, and you have been good friends over the years. You were friends with lots of the Gryffindors in your year, actually. Despite the implications of being in Slytherin, and your friend’s morals, you were one of the friendlier ones and got along with people from all different houses, so it wasn’t surprising that you got on well with Fred, too. Maybe a little too well these past months, when this little crush emerged. You’d catch him staring at you numerous times in the day, and you always kept up a playful banter (which involved plenty of flirting) whenever you had the chance to speak with him. You always wondered if he felt the same about you, but knew it was best not to dwell on those things. You were just an ‘evil’ Slytherin, after all. 
“Are you ready for Potions?” Adrian asked you as the group started to head to the common room. You caught Fred’s gaze again with a side glance as you walked. You could’ve sworn he winked at you…
“Yeah. As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said mindlessly. A surge of heat rose to your face for the second time this morning, and you couldn’t help smiling to yourself.
“Great. I’m sitting next to you. I need to get out of Snape’s bad books desperately, and nothing will do that more than sitting next to our best Chaser. Snape loves you.”
You exited the Great Hall while you playfully elbowed Adrian. “You know the rules. No Quidditch talk until we get out of class. And gross.” 
*** 
“Postponed?” several voices chimed in confusion, which triggered an angry chatter to explode.
Professor McGonagall had summoned the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch players to the courtyard an hour into second period to announce the terrible news. You shook you head and huffed angrily. 
“We wanted to let the teams know first. Malfoy was sent to the hospital wing with an injury to his arm around an hour ago, and it looks to be serious,” she explained sternly. “Tomorrow’s Quidditch game will be postponed until further notice. The next match is scheduled as per usual, with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff in a few weeks. I’m very sorry about this.” 
You turned to your Slytherin teammates and joined in ranting and cursing out Malfoy. After McGonagall finished speaking privately with Marcus and Oliver Wood, the two Quidditch captains, she sent everyone back to class. You trailed behind Adrian and Marcus back in the direction of Potions.
“Shame, huh?” a voice said behind you. You turned around to see Fred, and a small grin formed on your lips.
“Yeah, it sucks,” you commented as you walked together. “Malfoy’s such an idiot. Just wait until I get my hands on that slimy neck of his.”
“Tell me about it,” Fred said, rolling his eyes. “My brother Ron is always complaining about him. His whole family is pretty slimy, if you ask me.”
“Definitely,” you agreed, looking up at Fred to meet his eyes.
“Listen, if you ever need to send a rouge bludger on him any time soon, just let me know. George and I will sort something out for you,” he said kindly, winking at you for the second time today, which sent butterflies rattling in your stomach.
“I might have to hold you to that offer when he gets out of the hospital wing,” you grinned as you rounded the corner to enter the dungeons. 
“Say, it is a shame about the match, since we were going to totally beat you guys,” you say, poking your elbow into Fred’s arm.
“Oh,” Fred sung, bringing a hand to your side, tickling your weak spots. “A little bit competitive, are we?” 
You scoffed and swatted his hand away. “Well we can be, since, you know, we are the best team in the school,” you sighed confidently but jokingly. Fred shook his head while you climbed down the stairs. 
“Wow,” he sighed. “Competitive and cocky! No wonder no one likes Slytherin.” 
“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully punching his arm. Fred knew you were sensitive about that topic, but he would say anything to get you riled up. 
“I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You’re different.” 
“Different?” 
“You know, you’re not like the other Slytherins. You’re actually very likeable.” 
He looked down at you with that same sparkly look he gave you this morning. 
“Maybe you wouldn’t like me as much if we had beaten you guys tomorrow,” you joked. 
Fred playfully nudged your shoulder as you walked up to your classroom where Snape was waiting outside. 
“Took a detour, Mr. Weasley?” he asked rhetorically. You peered inside the classroom to see Adrian already seated at your table. He looked at you, then at Fred. Maybe you were dawdling? 
“No, sir. It was just-“ 
“Five points from Gryffindor for being late, and five for holding up Miss Y/L/N.” 
You wanted to protest, but realised you shouldn’t defend a Gryffindor in front of your Head of House.
Snape made way for the both of you to enter the class, and resumed teaching. As you sat down in your seat, Adrian looked at you with the same concern he had on his face this morning. 
“What were you doing with Weasley?” he whispered. 
“Nothing,” you said innocently. “Just talking.” 
You both returned to the lesson about the properties of unicorn horns and it’s uses in different potions, but couldn't help yourself. You caught Fred’s gaze from across the room. He poked his tongue out at you for making him lose 10 points for Gryffindor. You poked back, which make him grin that cheeky grin. 
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gale-gentlepenguin · 5 years ago
Text
ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 3
(Original idea here)
(Master post)
_______________________________________________________________________
Chloé hated this stupid app.
How is Adrien not on her list of compatible matches? Clearly the app was broken and not worth everyone’s time. She and Max have been arguing about it since he overheard her complaining about the app. What made the whole thing worse was that most of the class seemed to agree with him.
“...The whole thing is a trashy internet quiz only for people who have no lives.” Chloé exclaimed to Max just as Marinette and Adrien entered the room.
“It isn't some ordinary internet quiz. There is so much processing of data, use of algorithmic solutions that would take months to explain and you would not even understand a fraction of. I have yet to crack the formula. But I guarantee that it is more then trash.” Max defended vehemently.
Adrien decided to avoid getting involved and tried to slowly move to his seat, but unfortunately, Chloé’s vision noticed his movement and pounced.
“Adrikins.” She exclaimed in a saddened tone as she pushed passed Marinette to get to him. “Please tell me you don't believe all the crap about this stupid app?”
The model scratched his head. He noticed Marinette looking at him, he could tell she was curious about his answer. 
“Why do you think the app is not effective.” Adrien deflected. He wanted to avoid talking about his views on the app until he talked with Marinette.
Chloé gasped.
“So many reasons! For one thing the questions are these weird riddles that make no sense! Like why would I even WANT to touch money that is on the floor? I don't care who it belongs to!” Chloé ranted. “Not to mention it doesn't let you make a new profile if you delete it! I tried making a new one but it just gave me all of the same information and profile I had before deleting.”
“It is a countermeasure to avoid fraud!” Max answered. “Since you already put in your original name, photo of yourself and age, if you tried putting the exact information in, it will simply reconnect you to the old account to avoid people trying to cheat the system. My test accounts got deleted yesterday because they found out I used stock photos for them.
Chloé rolled her eyes.
“But most importantly is that it completely messed up my matches. Look at these losers!” Chloé showed Adrien the list, she had a few in the 70% range. Adrien did believe some of the guys on that list did go to this school. “Of course if this list was legitimate, you would be on the list.”
Adrien noted that as a point on why this app has credibility.
“Its just a dumb app. You didn't buy into this did you Adrikins?”
Adrien took a step back, looking for some way out.
“I... uh...”
Thankfully for Adrien, Madame Bustier stepped in.
“Alright Class, Everyone to your seats”
The class quietly stopped talking and moved back to their seats.
The designer was watching the model in the seat in front of her. What did Adrien think of the App? Did he want to tell her that he believes in it completely and wants to try going out with her? Is he angry about it and feels that she is now standing in the way of his potential relationship with Kagami? 
Marinette shakes her head, this was not gonna turn out like her nightmare from last night. Besides, Adrien wanted to meet her in the locker room, not in the library, her nightmare was now not gonna come true..... she hoped.
She noticed Adrien look back at her.. He mouthed the word ‘lunch’ to her. She could tell he was confirming their meet up that day. She gave a quick nod. Adrien smiled and turned back. The brief smile giving her a touch of comfort.
 I apologize for being late, their was a discussion in the teacher’s lounge about an interesting new phone app.” The red headed teacher confessed.
“Was it Soulmate Searcher?” Rose asked. The blond rising from her seat as she asked.
“I believe that was the name of it. My colleague mentioned that their sister was trying it out and has a date with someone they met on the app.” Ms.Bustier replied.
“Are you thinking of trying it out?” Myléne inquired.
“There will be plenty of time to talk about that stuff after class.” The teacher said with a soft smile. Though she didn't let on She was the one that had tried out the app and was in the teacher’s lounge messaging her date for Friday. 
As class began, in the corner of the room sat a brunette that had interestingly kept herself out of the whole discussion about the app. She looked at the app and at her profile. She had not answered a single question, if she wanted to match up with the guy she wanted, she needed to be careful.
_______________________________________________________________________
“Adrien! Where are you going? I really wanted to continue our conversation from earlier.”
“I am sorry Chloé. I am in a hurry, I have something really important thing to do during lunch. We can talk later.” Adrien answered as he quickly headed out of the class.
Marinette wondered what the model was referring to, she could of sworn that Adrien wanted to talk with her during lunch. Something important must have come up. Marinette got up from her desk and held in her sigh. Maybe it wasn't that important that they talked.
As she was about to head out for lunch, her phone buzzed.
 at the locker room 
Marinette turned red, she was the important thing he needed to do. She mentally slapped her self for phrasing it that way.
“Important message?” Her best friend cooed.
“I well umm.” Marinette stammered.
“Relax Marinette, I am just teasing.” Alya assured.
She went to her ear.
“Don't worry about yesterday, that is staying between us.”
“Thanks Alya.  You are the best.” Marinette whispered back before heading out of the classroom.
“Hi Alya.” a familiar voice called from behind the reporter.
“Oh hey Lila. Hows it going?”
“I am alright, I just wanted to ask if you know anything about the new app that has gotten popular. ‘Soulmate searcher’. I heard Max and Chloé arguing about it and I was curious.” The exchange student inquired.
“Oh its great! Pretty much the entire school is trying it out. Are you thinking about getting into it?”
“Well, I am usually apprehensive about trying out apps that give out personal information. I imagine Adrien and Prince Ali would be the same considering how popular they are.”
“Oh its completely safe. Max has tried hacking into it over a dozen times, their cyber security is solid, and I can assure you Adrien has an account.” Alya eased.
“Oh that is a relief. But do you think the app is just a silly quiz or do you think there is more to it? I wouldn't want to get my hopes up on meeting my soulmate on here if it doesn't work.”
“Well Nino and I have a compatibility of 85% as of this morning, so I would say it matches up pretty well. Ivan, Kim, Myléne, Rose, Marinette and Juleka say that the match ups were accurate.”
“Marinette said her match ups were accurate? Who did she match up with? I am sure they are a great guy.” Lila prodded with a faux smile that would fool most people.
Alya hesitated, she realized she was getting into some dangerous territory. She couldn't just reveal Marinette’s list its personal.
“I shouldn't be talking about who was on her personal list. Everyone’s list is only visible to them and it would be an invasion of privacy unless she told you directly.” Alya answered.
“Of course. I just felt bad that Marinette and I haven't been getting along and I wanted to see if I could help her get set up with one of her matches. Perhaps putting in a good word for her.” Lila lied
“Thats really nice of you Lila. but you don't need to worry about Marinette she will be fine.” Alya said with confidence.
“Thats good to hear. Please let Marinette know that if she does want help she can reach out to me.” Lila answered. “I think I will give this app a go. Thanks Alya.”
“Glad I could help.”
Lila kept up her smile as she left the classroom, once she was out of Alya’s sight. Her eyes narrowed and her smile vanished.
Marinette is someone who has a clear crush on Adrien. Alya telling me that Marinette will be fine with her list means that Adrien must be Somewhere on the rankings. I need to find out how high and Beat that percentage. But to do that. I need to find her list... or I need to see Adrien’s.
Lila smiled at the thought. Adrien was a much easier target, all she needed to do was find him, and then she can find out everything she needs to know.
_______________________________________________________________________
Marinette quickly headed to the locker room where Adrien was patiently waiting.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting.” Marinette answered as she caught her breath from sprinting.
“Its fine Marinette. I am glad you could make it.” Adrien responded with a soft smile that made the girls heart melt.
“So... what did you want to talk about?” Marinette asked with cautious optimism.
Adrien felt himself blush a bit.
“I was gonna ask about what you thought of the app. The one we were both using this morning. You know...” Adrien scratched the back of his head with his left hand. He felt awkward.
“O-Oh! Um, well. I think that its a bit more then just a random set of questions like chloé said.” Marinette starts off. She wanted to say that she believed it full heartedly, that it was as if cupid himself crafted the perfect matching system for her and Adrien. But she remembered the dream she had last night, she remembered how angry he was in her dream. She needed to know what he was feeling about the app. “Though of course its still updating! The profile could change at the drop of a hat while its calibrating. I remember Alya mentioning that it could fluctuate and any number set up now isn't set in stone.”
“Even if its 100?” 
The question hung in the air just as much for her as it did for him. They were both aware of their compatibility test score.
“I never heard of a case like this. Do you think it was a bug?” Marinette asked. internally thinking that he was not pleased that they were both 100% compatible. She felt her heart crack at the thought.  “Alya mentioned that she and Nino were only at 85% and they are super close. So... I can't be certain.”
“I don't know. It might be possible that something glitched out. It did only recently get a global release.” Adrien answered. He looked at her closely, waiting to see her relived reaction that she doesn't need to take this so seriously. Truthfully, he didn't entirely believe something happened. The more Adrien thought about it, Marinette did seem like someone that he could align with on a lot of things. Sure they had different perspectives and even did have some differing opinions, it made them both learn. If he was being completely honest, she was one of the people he is glad was high on the list. 
Marinette tried her best to disguise her sorrow from the thought of their 100% was somehow not valid. It hurt to think about. 
“But considering it was with you. I can believe it was a high a number at least. So it being 100% could be valid.” Adrien answered.
Marinette’s face blushed at his words. Did he just say that he thought she and him were highly compatible?
FUCK! I just said that I honestly thought that Marinette and I were highly compatible. She had given me the chance to dismiss this as anything serious and I messed it up! Why did I say that? Sure I think its true but she will be angry just like in my nightmare and get akumatized. Adrien mentally screamed
“It is possible.” Marinette spoke up. “ I can't see how having someone I already know being compatible with me would be a bad thing.” 
“There is also the course of the profile correction. We still have 13 more days of fine tuning our profiles. So things on the list could shake up, should you want that.” Marinette answered quickly.
“Thats true. No need to jump in on this too quickly.” Adrien sighed with relief. Marinette was handling this rationally, which made sense, Marinette always knew how to clear her head and look at things objectively. That was why she was so good at figuring out how to help people. 
It is one of the reasons I like her. Adrien’s thought surprised for a second but he quickly recovered and snapped back to the conversation to catch her response. 
“Yea... no need to think to much of it.” Marinette agreed, her tone a touch sadder then before.
“Yea. I am glad we both aren't overthinking this too much.” Adrien smiled softly. “I am glad we could talk about this.”
“Of course...” Marinette was doing her best not to let her face betray her feelings
Adrien turned and started to walk off before stopping just short of the door. 
“Marinette?”
“Yes?” Marinette jolted, not expecting anymore words from the model.
“After the profiles are complete, and if we are both number one on the other’s list. Do you want to... give it a shot?” Adrien asked as he tried to keep his tone steady, His face was beat red as he was doing something on complete impulse. “If you want to that is. You are free to say no.”
Marinette felt her face burn at his question.
“Yes! I mean sure. It is worth trying out.” Marinette responded.
Adrien turned to her. He had a soft genuine smile that made Marinette feel as if cupid had struck her in the heart once again. But what he said next made her feel like Cupid dropped a tank on her.
“Thank you Marinette. It would be pretty nice if one of my best friends turned out to be my soul mate.”
Marinette could feel her face heat up.
_____________________________________________________________________
THERE I FINISHED part 3 (I don't know how both Part 1 and part 2 got over 1000 notes. The notes usually start to dip after the first part.)
If you want part 4, please let me know. I love hearing feedback and it feeds my impulsive need to write. And I am just gonna say it. 
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razanartuk · 3 years ago
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about me tag game thing
i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3
under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around
why did you choose your url?
this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.
i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.
oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.
anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.
one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.
any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them
in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:
emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier
dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.
horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.
mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.
how long have you been on tumblr?
i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.
do you have a queue tag?
no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended
why did you start your blog in the first place?
my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.
why did you choose your icon/pfp?
because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!
why did you choose your header?
in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.
what’s your post with the most notes?
i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.
how many followers do you have?
on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.
how many people do you follow?
i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.
have you made a shitpost?
let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.
how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?
that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful
do you like tag games?
yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward
do you like ask games?
i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.
which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing
do you have a crush on a mutual?
in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.
i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:
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sacredmouche · 4 years ago
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Pavlovian Conditioning | Kageyama x Reader
Word count: 1.8K
Warnings: none
Genre: Fluff (?), College!AU
College!Kageyama x College!Reader
"Damn you, Kageyama! I've been doing this for TWO FUCKING MONTHS, and you haven't fall into my obvious hints that I like you!" is what you wanted to tell him for a long time now. You have been dropping hints to him and he doesn't seem to notice. Helping him with his homework voluntarily, asking him to eat with you during lunch (coz boi he eats alone all the time), and writing his notes when he falls asleep during class, those are some things you do for him that obviously say "I like you, Kageyama!" but you don't know what is wrong with this boy. Is he that stupid or just numb? You don't know but what you know is that you are not going to give up until he realize that you like him and make him like you.
Another day, another stress brought to you by being a college student with Kageyama not taking your hints on the side. What a great time to be alive!
Today is one of those days when you feel like not dropping hints to him, you're tired and you have something big carrying on your shoulders. You’re a leader of your research group for fuck sake.
"We're only freshmen but why the fuck do we have to comply with all these activities?" you whispered with unbelievable look in your eyes. A day in university just come to an end and you are in your favorite cafe with all your school papers on the table, waiting for the barista to call your name and sip on that delectable coffee you just ordered. Studying in this cafe is relaxing and the ambiance is perfect for you to focus, so it is a part of your day to stop by here and study.
"It's because you're a college student, stupid" a familiar voice made you raise you head and it was your childhood friend who study in the same university as you.
"Oikawa!!" calling him with tears in your eyes, nope you're not sad you're just happy to see him.
"Hey hey, don't tear up cry baby!" he pulled the chair in front of you and sat down, looking all the papers scattered on the table then looking at you in disbelief.
"What in the hell- this is a lot" you looked at him and gave him a look that says "I fucking know, right" then letting out a big sigh.
"Yes, great king this is a lot, but that's not all! I have a quiz on my major tomorrow, and I need to study three chapters," you complained, pulling your untied hair into a messy bun.
Oikawa did not speak but you still feel comforted with his presence, but then he opened the topic you really do not want to talk about.
"So how's it going with-"
"For customer y/n?" the barista cut him off mid sentence, great maybe he'll forget talking about him. Goddamnit Oikawa, y u gotta bring him up?
You stood up and went to the counter to get your order, doing everything slowly so he'll forget what he was about to say a while ago. But it's Oikawa we're talking about, he'll never stop until he knows the answer to his curiosity.
Reaching you seat and as soon as you sat down, he asked "So anyway, how's it going with Tobio-chan?"
You gave him a look that throws knives that could kill him.
"W-what? I'm just asking, just wanna know!"
"well... I don't fucking know what is wrong with him! He doesn't take all my hints and I do not want to tell him directly. Is he that stupid?" Oikawa laughed and you raised your eyebrow making him stop.
"Yes, he's stupid. You're a Psychology major why don't you use psychology instead of doing common things that common girls do. Then, bye! I gotta go, good luck with school... and with Tobio-chan!" then he made his way out leaving you confused and thinking.
Use psychology?
You shrug it off for now and just start working on your school papers that is due tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.
"I'm home!" you announced your arrival as soon as you stepped inside your house, going straight in your bedroom and changed into a pair of pajamas and comfortable shirt.
You set up your study table with your psychology book in it, a notebook, and some pens and highlighters.
You've been studying for half an hour and you just started on the second chapter out of three chapters, you don’t really mind sleeping late if you go to school with confidence that you’ll ace your quiz.
"Hmm, Classical Conditioning... by Pavlov. Okay okay. Hmm okay I understand" you muttered while reading the textbook definition of the term. Studying the three types of learning as indicated on your Psychology book, an idea – a brilliant one – came to the magnificent brain of yours. A smile forming in your lips as you continue your studying.
I bet this one will work so be ready Kageyama.
------
“Good morning Tooru-chan!” you cling your arm to your friend who’s giving you now a disgusted look, but you just gave him a wide smile.
“What’s gotten into you? Why do you look happy? Why are you happy? Are you okay? And why the fuck did you call me Tooru-chan? I’m older than you, you know?”
“Woah easy boy, eaaaasssy. Why flood me with questions? My mind is already flooded” flooded with thoughts of Kageyama.
“Flooded with thoughts of Kageyama” he said that earned a laugh from you, he looked down on you and furrowed his brows.
“It’s because of you that’s why I am thinking of him more than usual, idiot. You’re a genius. I complimented you, take it or leave it” You sassed and walked faster.
“Why? What? What are you talking about?” he asked as he ran to close the big distance between the two of you.
“You’ll know it, I’ll tell you when the time comes. I have 10 AM class, I gotta go. See ya!” You left him there, this time he is the one who is confused and thinking. Why is she so happy? Why did she call me a genius? Not that I do not think of myself as one, but why did she call me a genius?
Making your way to your classroom, you stopped by to a vending machine, buying two cartons of milk. This class is your major and Kageyama is in that class too, so it makes you extra excited to reach the room. This subject last for two hours but you don’t really mind since learning is everything, right? And you’re a flirt and seeing Kageyama for two hours is too much to make your heart go boom boom.
After the quiz, there was some time left so a little discussion took place until it’s time to wrap up.
Lunchtime. Okay, this will work. I trust you, Pavlov. Don’t let your bitch down!
“Uhh, Kageyama–”
“Damn!” his loud voice made you jump; you were stoned in your place. Heart beating faster with a little bit of pain, thinking that he was irritated by you. You are about to tear up and take your leave, but he spoke.
“Hey, you were saying something? I’m sorry, it’s just that I forgot to bring my milk” your eyes sparkled. Heart skipped a beat. You’re in cloud nine, thanking the Gods.
“Yes, uhh let’s eat lunch together and here, wait a sec” you rummage through your things to get that extra carton of milk you bought on the way here.
“Good thing I bought two milks, it must be destiny” you laughed and handed him the milk and it’s his turn for his eyes to sparkle, he was so touched because it’s milk, duh. He wouldn’t share his milk with everyone, but you shared yours. Now he thinks of you as a goddess… of milk, who give free milks to those who needs it.
“Let’s eat lunch” he announced. I am not going to let this opportunity slip, a goddess asked me out. He thought.
Yo what the fuck? He agreed! Yes, this is it. A love story will emerge.
The two of you made your way out of the classroom and walked towards the university cafeteria. Now, what to do? You don’t really know what to do now, you both are eating in silence.
Come on, brain I need you please don’t leave me hanging!
But your brain is not cooperating with you, lunchtime ended and you both parted ways. It’s okay, you feel contented, you ate lunch with him and tomorrow you are going to ask him again because giving up is not on your vocabulary.
You are so eager to make him like you, so you are pulling Classical Conditioning at him to make that happen, all thanks to Oikawa for giving you that idea.
-----
It’s been seven days since you started using classical conditioning. Giving him his daily milk, you bought at the vending machine, watching as his eyes go sparkle.
You noticed the changes of him. Whenever you showed up, a big smile is forming on his lips just like the smile you see when you bring him his milks, his face painted with happiness just like when he is drinking his milk, and how his eyes sparkled when you give him his milk.
You rummage through your things just like the past seven days and give him his carton of milk. You stretched out your arms and handed him the unopened carton.
“Here you go, Kageyama. Your daily dose of milk” you said as you sip on your own milk.
He eyed you and took the milk
“You don’t really have to do all this for me to like you” your eyes widened at his words. Shocked. Wondering if he knew it all this time.
“Huh?” is all you can say
“I know you’re pulling Classical Conditioning on me to make me like you, did you not realize that I am not going to like you if you do that?” Oh. It hurts. Pavlov, you let me down. I hate you. You thought. Standing there in front of him, waiting for him to say another word even if it pains you. He is so straightforward it hurts, right there in my heart. But what the fuck? I thought he was stupid. He understands what classical conditioning is when all he does is sleep in this class!
“How long have–” he cut you off mid-sentence
“You associated yourself with my favorite milk, it’s not you who makes me excited, it’s the milk” he continued. Why am I still standing here? Every word he’s saying hurts.
“But that will be the scenario if I don’t like you,” Huh? You looked up to him, teary-eyed. A confused look emitted through your eyes.
“But I already like you, your presence alone makes me excited. With or without the milk. So stop.” he confessed and all you gave him is a wide smile that is filled with pure delight.
Thank you, Pavlov. You did not let me down.
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THANK YOU TO MY FAM @teentitannns and @gaydistriss!! I couldn't choose which character suits the plot and they helped me. Luv u.
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writing-freak · 5 years ago
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The Invisible Mutant pt. 3
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(GIF credit to its owner!! :) )
Peter Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 990
Pt. 1   Pt. 2
Masterlist
A/N: It’s finally here!! Yay! Finally some interaction with Peter! I’ve also got some fun things coming in the future parts, so stick around! I’m on a strict schedule these next few days for updating, so there’s a lot more coming soon - I’m hoping part 4 will be up late this weekend. Stay safe everyone, and thank you for reading!! :)
After the tour, you were feeling much more confident with not just the mansion and its layout, but the students within it, your new classmates. Since you hadn’t had much experience with friends (none, to be specific), you had expected your anxiety to be off the charts, slipping in and out of invisibility every few minutes. But instead, the students welcomed you into their home, their lives, and for the first time in your life, you were beginning to feel at ease.
The ease continued even through your first week of classes, despite the drastic change to your everyday routine. But you were doing well, and you were enjoying yourself. The things you were learning about were actually interesting, and at lunch you had a place to sit, between classes you didn’t have to worry about avoiding bullies that would punch you into a locker.
You were sitting at lunch now, playing with your bowl of soup as you listened to Jubilee complain about the history lesson you had had just before.
“It wasn’t that bad,” you muttered, thinking she wouldn’t hear you.
But that girl had near superhuman hearing, and she stared at you in shock.
The eyes on you caused your heart to elevate, and you were certain you had just turned invisible.
But Jean just laughed, and Peter joined in. “They’re not wrong,” the redhead agreed with you, shaking her head at Jubilee. “You just like to complain, and you know it.”
Jubilee sighed. “It’s heartbreaking to have friends who turn on you so quickly.”
Before you could speak to defend yourself, or apologize, you felt a sharp kick to your shin. Looking up quickly, you noticed Peter staring directly into your eyes.
“Ouch,” you said, glaring at the mutant. You were sure he couldn’t see you - your invisibility hadn’t worn off yet - but you glared nonetheless, the sudden contact setting your heart rate off again when you had just been so close to calming it down.
But when he let out a breathless laugh, his eyes still on your face, you couldn’t help but feel that you had been wrong, and he could see you. “I was just trying to see if you were still solid when you were invisible,” he answered nonchalantly.
“You couldn’t tell that when they picked up their spoon and ate their soup?” Jean asked, raising her eyebrows. You laughed along with the rest of the table as they made fun of the boy across from you, grateful for the distraction from your ongoing invisibility.
“Y/N!” Kurt greeted as he found a seat directly to your left at the table. “You seemed really confident in that lesson we had this morning with Hank. Would you mind helping me study for tomorrow’s quiz in the library after lunch?”
Just as your body was coming back into sight, your face flushed again, and you stuttered out an answer. “S-sure...I’d love to help.” It came out more like a squeak, and you shifted your gaze to your hands now in your lap.
Jean, sensing - or reading - your discomfort, spoke up instantly. “I could use a study session too! Count me in!” You sighed in relief as most of the others agreed (the exception being Jubilee, who had a much needed beauty nap waiting for her in her dorm).
“Brilliant,” Kurt replied, flashing his pointed teeth. “A math party!”
You felt your smile returning, feeling more present than ever at the lunch table. Cause even though your fears were still there, the people you were surrounded with helped you every step of the way.
As you finished up your lunches, which were accompanied by an unrequested demonstration of both Scott and Peter’s mutations (landing both of them a scolding by the mansion’s cook), you gathered your things for your library meeting. Upon rifling through your bag, however, you realized you had left your notes from this morning in your room where you had stopped after class.
“My notes,” you told the others. “They’re on my desk in my room. I’ll be right back.”
As you jogged out of the cafeteria though, and made it to the end of the hall, you were suddenly met with a tall figure blocking your path, one who had mysteriously appeared directly in front of you, and who was now carrying your math notes in his hand.
“Peter?” you asked, startled into invisibility for just a brief second. As you came back to focus, you looked questionly at the boy in front of you.
“Here are your notes,” he said joyfully, handing the notebook to you. “Saved you a trip.”
And then he was off again, in the other direction, before you could even thank him.
Breathing deeply to calm your racing heart, you turned around and followed the silver-haired mutant in the direction of the library. All of these people, constantly using their mutations. It was enough to put anyone on edge.
But you were only halfway down the hallway, you were jolted by yet another surprise.
Y/N, Charles’ voice rang in your head. Can I see you for a private lesson in my office?
You jumped at his sudden words, letting out a small yelp, and effectively turning invisible. Honestly, your heart could only take so much in one day.
Peter turned around, raising his eyebrows in your general direction. “What is it now?”
Sighing, you shoved your notebook back in your bag. “Can you tell the others I’m sorry I had to leave? I have to go see Charles.”
“Charles?” Peter looked surprised. “That should be fun.”
And a second later, he was out of view. You suspected he had been waiting to do that since he returned your notes, but had only been politely waiting for you.
You sighed, heading off once more in the opposite direction. That should be fun. Peter sure knew how to lift your spirits.
Now what did Charles want?
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malecsecretsanta · 4 years ago
Text
Merry Christmas, cor321!
For @cor321 Hiiii! I really hope you like this story, I tried to incorporate some tropes you mentioned. I enjoyed writing this for you :) Happy holidays!
Read On AO3
*****
Misery ²
The door opened, and in stumbled Alec Lightwood’s roommate, Magnus Bane, with his date– both giggling and cheeks pink, nuzzling each other’s noses, both smelling of alcohol.
From his desk on the far right side of the room, Alec looked up from the textbook he was reading.  He rolled his eyes and sighed.  What was this, the weekend?
No, it was only Wednesday, with classes tomorrow.
In fact, he was trying to read up for a quiz tomorrow.  Not to be subject to this racket…
No doubt they had just come from one of the bars on the edge of campus.  Maybe Magnus had even picked his date up tonight, as Alec didn’t recognize him.
It was an ongoing pattern with Magnus to hit up the bars nearby, and then either come back alone, slightly giggly from being buzzed, or with his latest hookup – as it was, Alec was starting to lose track of Magnus’s ever shifting schedule.  As a creature of habit, this made Alec’s head spin.
Magnus and his date finally walked into the room and came face to face with Alec.
And of course Magnus was dressed to the nines, even overly so, Alec noted, scrutinizing his outfit from head to toe.  Dark black hair done up in a quiff with dark red highlights, eyes lined with red and black liner, then clad in his form fitting maroon racer leather jacket, white tee, and slim black pants and low ankle boots.
Not to mention the number of silver necklaces adorning his neck and chest.
The longer Alec looked at him, he felt a slight tightness in his chest, a feeling that he wasn’t sure he was ready to reconcile within himself.
He turned away, feeling slightly flustered.
“Oh, you’re home,” Magnus said distractedly.
“Well, I’ve only been sitting here all night, and I was here when you first opened the door,” Alec stated dryly.  “And you only just noticed me over here, now? But, oh I see -- you were otherwise preoccupied…”  
He nodded at Magnus’s date, who now looked like he was attempting to shrink into the background.  He was clearly uncomfortable about the tension between the two roommates.
“By the way, he has a name. Elias,” Magnus stated.  “And he’s a great guy.”
“And…it’s also Wednesday night, and some of us still have classes the next morning,” Alec pointed out.
“Hey, Magnus,” Elias interjected, sounding incredibly uncomfortable, “Maybe he’s got a point. There are classes tomorrow still. How about we go out Friday night instead?”
Magnus whirled around to face his date.  “Wait, you’re leaving?” he huffed.
Elias gestured between them.  “There’s obviously something here that I shouldn’t get in the middle of.  It’s okay,” he said.
Magnus, however, had already turned back toward Alec, and the two roommates were glaring at one another like no one’s business.
“Uh, okay.  I’m leaving,” Elias said to no one as he quickly left.
The silence that followed his departure was jarring, and the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped to subzero with the way the roommates were locked in a glaring contest.  Neither looked away.
Then in the next minute, Alec just rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting back down, and trying again to concentrate on his books.
Magnus huffed in turn, as he went to his side of the room.  He opened up his mini-refrigerator, taking out a beer and taking a swig.
“Hey, shouldn’t you slow down?  You just got back from the bar, didn’t you?”  a snide voice said from the other side of the desk.
If Magnus’s eyes were laser guns, they would have burned a hole through the back of the desk.
Shut up, Magnus thought, crossly, as he tossed back the rest of the beer.
************
It was just Alec’s luck to end up having Magnus as his roommate in his junior year of college.  
Alec had initially planned to move into a double with his brother, Jace.  But then Jace had accepted an offer to another university at the last minute.
When Alec had found that out, he had groaned.
Now he was stuck with a double room, whereas he could have just applied for a single room to begin with!
The idea of having to share a room with a stranger was bad enough, especially with any habits they would bring about them.
Not that Alec was completely anal regarding his habits.
But he certainly had his share of bad experiences in the past.
Was it too much to ask to keep a room clean, no dishes in the sink, and everything in their rightful place?
Or having quiet hours when they should be quiet?
From past history, his roommates tended to fall short of these ideals within a short period of time, and it would always end up in a fight between them.
He was just not a roommate type of person.  Hell, he just wasn’t a people type of person.  He just preferred his own space above all else.
Alec didn’t think that was too much to ask.
As the time grew near, he eventually became more accepting of the idea of having a dormmate, as there was really nothing he could do about it.  So why fight it?
He even got to the point where he had nearly convinced himself that most people were reasonable and able to maintain mutual consideration and respect…
But that was before Magnus Bane, his would-be roommate, barged through the door, his luggage and belongings falling from his arms.  Walking in, he all but collapsed on the common area couch.
“Oh my god,” Magnus complained, bringing one hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion, ”That trek up  four flights of stairs was killer, why couldn’t they have given us an option to select ground floor?”  Then came a whole slew of moans and lamenting.
Alec just stared at this spectacle, his mouth dropping open, as his brain couldn’t even believe that anyone could be this dramatic.
He cleared his throat.  “Uh, where I’m from, most people would say hi to their new roommate and shake hands,” he offered in a sardonic tone of voice.
That made Magnus stop his dramatics, as he turned.
The surprise on his face made it clear that he definitely hadn’t noticed Alec until then.  
Alec wasn’t really surprised by that. Not many noticed him outright. There really wasn’t all that much to notice.  Anyway, it didn’t bother Alec too much, as he preferred not to be in the spotlight anyway.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Magnus said, suddenly affecting a dulcet tone of voice.  It was very musical, low, and sweet. As he looked directly at Alec, his brown eyes with glints of gold dilated as he surveyed Alec.  “I’m Magnus.  Magnus Bane.  I guess I’m your new roommate.”
His whole demeanor – along with his necklaces, crisp form-fitting leather jacket and black pants, and that silver earcuff on his left ear, not to mention his expertly lined black and silver eyelids – was enough to throw Alec off his regular standoffish-whatever type of attitude when acknowledging someone.
Alec, for once, was tongue-tied.  He didn’t know how to act…
“Ah, hello,” he managed, his throat dry.  What was this?  Why was his heart suddenly pounding?
He didn’t like this feeling at all.  But, actually, he had no idea what this feeling was.
Bottom line, he was uncomfortable.
He was … breathless, nervous.  He was…UGH.  HE DISLIKED THIS FEELING.
Yea, that must be it.  There was something off about this.
He decided, right then and there, that he did not like his new roommate for making him feel like this.
“I’m Alec.  Alec Lightwood,” he continued, finding it easier to find his voice, now that he had resolved his inner feelings in the meantime. “You have your space, and I have mine.  As long as we mind ourselves and give consideration to one another, things should be fine.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow upon receiving Alec’s words.  
Oh, is this how it is? he thought.  A smile crept across his face.
“So,” he said, using his lowest purr while looking at Alec under lowered lashes., “Alec, eh?  Is that short for Alexander?”
Wow, even just attempting this line on this guy was making him nauseous.  Funny, how he would be motivated to use this line on others.  But for some reason, he just felt like he wanted to annoy the shit out of this guy…
The guy’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by his response.
“Uh…” the guy said.  “Yea, actually it is.  But no one calls me that.  It’s just Alec…”
Magnus smirked.  “Alexander, it is,” he said flippantly.  Then bit back a grin as the guy scowled.
“Suit yourself,” Alec said curtly.  “It doesn’t matter to me.  Anyway, I already picked the right side, so the left side’s yours.”  He gestured briefly to the bed, desk and space to the left to him.  And with that, he retreated behind his desk, leaving Magnus just standing there, looking after him with his mouth falling half-open, and indignant.
The nerve!  Boy, that guy’s stiff as hell, he thought, starting to get annoyed.
As far as he was concerned, it was a waste of time to be uptight.  Wasn’t it much easier just to be more open and accepting about things?  Why so angry, dude?
He shook his head in disbelief.  But then he sighed.
This was his room assignment and roommate for this school year.  Unfortunately, there were no other rooms available.  He would just make do with this situation – at least until the next signup, which was in June.
He just prayed that it wouldn’t be too difficult living with Alec Lightwood.
His roommate continued to survey him, his eyes lingering upon his face which registered something akin to confusion – probably due to the duo-colored eyeliner he was wearing.  Then he shook his head, huffed, and turned to walk back into his space.
Magnus was left with mixed feelings, standing there.
Oh well, he thought, so much for the welcome brigade.  Great first day…
Such a shame, Magnus couldn’t help thinking as his thoughts went back to his roommate.  So stuck up.  But attractive.
Definitely attractive.  Such nice hazel eyes, thick dark hair, and great build. Truthfully, he was totally Magnus’s type.
It was just too bad that he was stuck-up and annoying.  And the way Alec had balked at his face, with his makeup and eyeliner, he probably also “didn’t approve of alternative lifestyles.”  But oh well, this was something Magnus was used to, ever since he himself had come out during middle school, and facing those with dissenting opinions.  Yea, they could all go to hell for all he cared.  He was proud of himself and his lifestyle; and determined to have a great year at school.
Neither a crappy person nor a bad situation could take that away from him…
******************
Months later…
Magnus hugged his books to his chest, as he climbed the stairs of his dorm building, huffing and puffing when he finally reached his floor.  Again he cursed inwardly at the three flights of stairs he had to climb, just to get to his room.
Then again, his brain suggested helpfully, you didn’t really need to wear your stiletto boots today, did you?  Just because that guy in lab was cute…
Oh be quiet, Magnus thought, wrinkling his nose.
As he approached his dorm room, another thought popped up in his head.
God, he hoped Alec wasn’t back yet.  Or, maybe he hoped that he was there?  Anyway, he was confused enough about him as it was.  Today had also been his long day, and he was exhausted.
He didn’t know if he had the strength within him to endure something unexpected…
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure Alec out….
And, usually, Magnus was pretty good at those things…
…………………..
Ever since that first day, it had been nothing but snarkiness from Alec.  Even when they were across the room from one another, somehow Magnus could still imagine the snideness being projected toward him by Alec.
Right against his back, like some stinging sixth sense, as if laser beams were shooting straight at him.
This animosity was getting ridiculous.
Magnus’s thoughts briefly went to the last guy he’d been seeing,  Elias, which was actually just under two month ago.
Unlike others, Elias had tolerated Alec being around, even with him being something awful.
After a while, Alec had even grunted a sullen “Hello” or even a small wave whenever Magnus had brought Elias  over to hang out.
That was uncharacteristically responsive for Alec, and Magnus was still weirded out by it.
Anyway, the thing with Elias had ended after maybe two weeks or so.
Since then, Magnus had not brought anyone back to the room.  He hadn’t wanted anyone else to encounter how weird Alec could get at times…
And could someone be more nitpicky about things?  For instance, he left one plate lying around in the sink one night a few weeks ago, and Alec had been ready to tear his head off.
Well, okay, he admitted, perhaps it was more than just one plate.
Maybe a few plates…and maybe even much more than that.
His mind went back to two days ago, when he had inadvertently hosted an impromptu dinner party for his three study buddies that he had brought over to go over notes for his History midterm.
Two of them, who had walked back with Magnus, had casually suggested getting carryout from the local Chinese restaurant since it was getting close to dinnertime.  That had seemed quite reasonable to Magnus.
And so they had.
The third guy, Marcus, who had come about an hour later, carrying two bottles of wine --- well Magnus hadn’t asked him to do so.
Before long, they were all eating, and studying, and having a light glass of wine – and it was actually kinda odd, but it was working.  They were actually getting some studying done, and yet somehow it had become very much a dinner party – in Magnus’s room.
Things were going great.
And then the key turned in the lock. Magnus froze, as his roommate, Alec, walked in.
The glare they all received from Alec, immediately as he walked in the door, was enough to freeze everything in the room.
Beside him, Magnus could feel the study group tense up.
Pretty much how everyone acted around Alec, when he was being Mr. Uptight.
Magnus felt a flare of irritation rise upon within him, as Alec cleared his throat in a very exaggerated way.  He tensed up even further as Alec’s eyes scanned the room.  He saw his gaze fall upon the plates and glasses strewn all over the coffee table.
Feeling an accusatory statement coming on, Magnus decided to beat him to the punch.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were coming back early from class,” Magnus offered as a way of apology.  “We would have gone elsewhere –”
But instead of accepting the apology, Alec’s face slowly turned red, as his mouth pressed into even firmer of a line.
“Oh?  And why is that?” Alec said, his voice tight. “Because you never think of asking me if you can have people over to our room?  Or that you never tell me about these things at all?”
Then his gaze seemed to freeze as he saw the books all over the couch next to them.  And his face suddenly paled.
“Uh, e-excuse me,” he stammered.  This was followed by an abrupt turn as he half-walked, half-stumbled to his side of the room.
Wait…
Magnus’s annoyance suddenly turned to confusion.  
Had he detected a note of embarrassment in his voice?
Hmm, that was new…
Oh, man, he soo didn’t want to get dragged into whatever Alec was going through right now…
“Uh, Magnus?” One of the guys, Marcus, was talking to  him.  He turned to him, albeit distracted.
“Yes?” he asked absentmindedly.
“You don’t look like you’re in the mindset to study right now.  We can take a break for a bit -- we’ve been at this for awhile now,” Marcus observed.  He nodded in the direction that Alec had stomped off to. “Don’t you think you should take care of that before it gets worse?”
The look on his face indicated that he already thought that it had…
“Hmm, maybe you’re right,” Magnus mused.  “Thanks, Marcus.” He smiled at him gratefully.
Taking a deep breath, Magnus made his way toward Alec’s side of the room.
He found Alec sitting on his bed, huddled in the corner with a book, which was completely obscuring his face.
Ah, he’s busy, probably best to leave him alone….
But something made him stay.
“Uh, Alexander?” he ventured hesitantly.
No response.  Ah well, Magnus thought.  Okay, play it that way, then…
He turned to leave.
“Uh, I didn’t realize you were studying,” a gruff voice emerged from behind the book.  “I didn’t mean to overreact.”
Magnus stopped where he stood and then slowly turned around.  Alec’s tone had been equally hesitant and unsure.
Now, how was he supposed to act?  Magnus ran his fingers through his hair, feeling slightly distressed.  He wasn’t used to feeling so off-balance.  He usually  prided himself in being able to take on any type of situation or confrontation.
And yet, now he was nearly speechless.
“Uh,” he said finally.  “That’s okay. I mean, things did get really disorganized.  Dinner was definitely not on the agenda when we first planned things.  And Marcus, he brought the wine over, not me…”
While Magnus was talking, Alec had emerged from behind the book, his hazel eyes intense and piercing, causing Magnus to nearly choke upon his words.
Oh my, he thought.  If he had thought that his roommate’s eyes were beautiful on that first day…well right now, that had been elevated to another level.
They were…incredible - the way they looked at him, searchingly, as if seeking something that had yet to be found.
“You don’t need to apologize,” Alec continued, his voice softening slightly, now with a nice gravelly texture to his baritone voice.  He seemed to avert his gaze for a moment, seemingly preoccupied.
Magnus resisted the shiver that nearly shot down his spine at the sound of the voice.
“That’s quite alright,” he said, managing to keep his voice even.   He took a deep breath.  “Not to worry though, we will clean up after we are done.”
Alec nodded.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.  He looked up just then and their gazes met.  Magnus inhaled sharply.  
There was an expression in Alec’s eyes that he wasn’t able to recognize.  Regardless, neither of them could look away.
For Magnus, funny things were starting to happen.  Like wind rushing past his ears, and his heart was suddenly pounding madly.
His throat was also, suddenly, incredibly dry.
He attempted to clear his throat.  “Well,” he said, putting on a smile in an effort to quell the tension that had seemingly appeared, “You’re welcome to come out and have some wine with us, as well as the rest of the food if you’d like.  There’s plenty.  I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet…”
Alec’s eyes appeared to widen at that.  “Oh,” he said.  “Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to impose…”
His eyes again seemed to search Magnus’s face intensely.  Magnus felt his cheeks turn pink upon his gaze.
“No, no trouble at all,” Magnus found himself saying.  “The guys are really cool too.  They won’t mind.  In fact, Marcus was the one who insisted I come in to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh really?” Alec said, surprised.  Something appeared to shift in his facial expression just then, and the beginnings of a smile started to appear.  “Well, that’s nice of him.  Tell him I appreciate it.”
Magnus attempted to keep his expression even, as his brain nearly imploded.
Wait, was Alec Lightwood, grumpy roommate Alec Lightwood, actually…smiling?
He didn’t even know if he remembered him ever smiling, not even on the first day that they met.  
And that was months ago…
“You can come out and tell him yourself.  Seriously, they’re cool,” Magnus insisted, suddenly making it his mission to bring Alec out of his shell.
Alec continued to look at him for another minute.
And then, he slowly nodded.
He got off the bed and stood in front of Magnus, shifting uncomfortably as he didn't seem certain on what to do next.
“C’mon,” Magnus said, in as gentle of a voice as he could muster amidst the awkwardness.  
He started to walk forward, turning back briefly to make sure Alec was following.
“Okay,” Alec said gruffly. He followed him out.
The chorus of “Hellos” directly toward Alec made Magnus smile.
………………….
Yea, that had been an interesting evening, Magnus mused as he paused right outside his own door.
And, a bit odd at the same time.  
That evening had turned out to be full of surprises.
He could have sworn that he caught Alec looking his way once or twice as the night progressed.  But then he would look away immediately with a flush upon his cheeks.  It had made Magnus a bit flustered, a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to having.
And especially not toward Alec Lightwood of all people…
Once the initial introductions had been made, everyone had settled back in their seats with their drinks.  Alec had then cracked a joke, which everyone laughed at.
Including himself, to his surprise.
And then Alec had proceeded to down a glass of white wine, his normally stoic, grouchy looking face softening into a smile with wonderful crinkles to the corner of his eyes.
The whole effect was simply magnetic, causing Magnus to nearly lose his breath as his heart stuttered. Again, he felt the stirrings that he had, upon that first day he had encountered Alec…
Oh god, what was happening to him?? Magnus thought.
Magnus had just stared at Alec in wonder, his mouth slightly agape. Who was this guy, again?  
One minute, Alec was practically lashing out at him over some preconceived notion of what was going on –and the next minute, he had comfortably settled in – a completely different person.
Well, at least it appeared so, in front of company…
……………….
Magnus came back to the present, continuing to stare at the door in front of him.
Where his enigma of a roommate was possibly on the other side.
Was Alec like Jekyll and Hyde, where one wouldn’t know which personality was going to emerge at any given moment?   Ugh, he wouldn’t want that type of situation...
Or even worse, was Alec the type who was absolutely amazing with everyone else, yet was still crappy when it was the two of them, alone –?
Magnus huffed, shaking his head, as he dug into his jacket pocket for his key.  
Alec was definitely beautiful but too much of a wild card for his taste.
Yea, the last thing he needed was to be anywhere alone with this guy, ever --
Not finding his key, Magnus juggled his books as he fished deeper into his pockets, which caused his books to tumble out of his grasp.  In an attempt to hold onto them, Magnus stumbled backward.
And then  -  he must have landed wrong upon his heel, because now he was on the way to the floor.
His books landed on the floor with a loud clatter, followed by him falling onto his butt.
“Damn!” Magnus cursed, his hand flying to his rear.  That was not a soft fall by any means.
Although, Magnus thought ruefully, it was more that his pride was wounded as opposed to any real pain.
He was just glad no one had seen this happen, or he would never live it down.
Just great, he thought, rolling his eyes in annoyance.  
Gingerly, he got up onto on one knee and proceeded to pick up his books.
What else could go wrong today?
“Hello?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
Before Magnus could react or stand up, the door had opened ajar and a curious looking Alec Lightwood had poked his head out.  He looked left and right, before his eyes went downward.
And now he was looking at Magnus, crouched on the floor, his books partially in hand, looking up at him.
Oh god, of all the people to see him like this…
Alec’s eyes widened.  “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Did you trip and fall?  Well, no wonder, those boots look like an accident waiting to happen, with those heels. I mean, they look really nice and all, but functional they totally aren’t…”
Alec’s cheeks had gone full on red as he spoke.
Was Alec…babbling?  Magnus thought, confused.  And…did he just say my boots looked…nice?
He reached out a hand toward Magnus, who just stared dumbly at the hand.
“Here, I’m trying to help you up,” Alec said gently.
“Thanks,” Magnus mumbled.  “I did fall before.  Sorry I’m like this…”
Magnus grasped Alec’s hand, which was fleshy and warm as his fingers closed around his, and allowed him to pull him up.  He shifted his books in his arms so they were more orderly.
“Here, come inside and sit down,” Alec said. “I was just about to have some tea.  Would you like some?”
“S-Sure,” Magnus said, feeling his cheeks burn as he followed Alec into the room.  He was feeling very on edge, just like that other night – certainly not accustomed to this Alec Lightwood.
Someone who graciously helped him up after he had fallen…and who was now offering him tea?
As Magnus sat down on the couch, Alec excused himself to go get the tea.
Magnus set his books down, and suddenly he felt kinda weird, his hands flitting about. Finally, he settled for crossing his legs, and clasping his hands as he rested them on one knee.
Alec came back in the room just then, holding a very familiar mug by the handle.  That was Magnus’s favorite cup.
Magnus just stared at him.
Alec seemed to recoil slightly under Magnus’s scrutiny.
“Ah,” he said in a hesitant tone of voice, his eyes going to the cup, “Don’t you always use this mug? I just assumed it was your go-to mug.”
“Ah, yes, it is.  I just didn’t know you were aware of that,” Magnus said, surprised.
Alec handed the mug to Magnus, who took it in both hands.  
“Thank you,” Magnus said breathily, suddenly feeling shy.  He closed his eyes as he took in the aroma of the tea.  Peppermint.
Then he realized that Alec was watching him closely, the corner of his lips slightly upturned.
“It’s my favorite type of tea to have, especially after a long day,” he said.  “I even added a dollop of raw honey in yours, I’ve seen you use that from time to time in your drinks.  I hope you don’t mind.”
And now…Alec’s cheeks had turned a slight pink.
“No, t-that’s fine,” Magnus said quietly. “I love it.”  He sipped at the tea.  Delicious, and totally hitting the spot.
“Long day, eh?” Alec said in a sympathetic tone of voice.
Magnus snorted, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness he was feeling just a moment ago.  “You don’t know the half of it…”
And before he knew it, he was telling Alec about the crappy day he had had.  Minutes turned into a half-hour.  Then an hour.  Then two…
It was so surreal, how much they were getting along.
**************
Alec was having the most out of body experience he could ever recall having.  And he could barely breathe.
Here he was, sitting across from his roommate, whom he had been at odds with for months, and here they were having tea, with Magnus talking animatedly in that musical voice of his.  Which Alec could have listened to for hours on end.
Just as long as his gorgeous soft brown eyes, and warm smile were completely directed toward him as he threw his head back and laughed.
It was such a beautiful sight, he basked in it.
He no longer remembered why they were at odds with one another.  In fact, perhaps it wasn’t that they were at odds with one another  -- rather, it was more displaced, in terms of how he had reacted upon first seeing Magnus.
Magnus, who had completely upended Alec’s life in every way since he first stepped into the room.
Who had affected Alec like no other.
Alec hadn’t had much experience with these things –  let alone meeting anyone he was ever interested in – to really know what that feeling was.
In fact, it had taken him a few months to figure out exactly why Magnus had affected him so. He had found Magnus attractive from day one – but didn’t know how to admit it to himself.  So he had done the exact opposite thing that he should have done. He’d shut himself off from him, acted all distant, for fear that he would be read like an open book.
Then to see Magnus flirt with others, go out every night, and bring home different people every night – it had sent him into a tailspin.  He had not been prepared for that, and it had wrecked him in all ways imaginable.
Then that had, in turn, caused him to close himself off further – even as he went deeper into despair.  He hated the feeling.  Jealousy was such a useless emotion.  But yet it was there, wrapping its thorny vines around his heart, piercing different parts of his heart and psyche just that bit further with every different person that would pass through that door.
But by the time Alec decided that he wanted to try to turn things around, the animosity between them had already gone too far, and he couldn’t figure out a way around it.
Until that night, when he had mistakenly called out Magnus for throwing a get-together when it was just a study group.
Embarrassed at having made such a colossal error of judgment, he had fled to the security of his corner, determined never to show his face to Magnus again.  But, Magnus, to his credit – had extended an olive branch to him, even though he hadn’t deserved it.  
After that day, he had started to come to terms with his attraction and feelings for Magnus.
Which just seemed to be getting stronger, the more he was sitting here and talking to Magnus.  God was he beautiful.
Then his insecurities started getting hold of him.  What would Magnus ever see in someone like him?  There was nothing special about Alec.  He was the complete opposite of Magnus, who commanded a presence whenever he walked into a room.
It was something that Alec could never even begin to know about….
“Alexander?”  God, it was that voice again…
Then Alec blinked, as he realized he had zoned out slightly, as Magnus was trying to get his attention.
He gulped, his eyes meeting seemingly curious brown eyes.  Which were looking intensely at him.
Were there always gold glints in there?  Or was that a trick of the light?
It unnerved him.  He wasn’t used to having Magnus gaze upon him in that way.
….
Meanwhile, Magnus was definitely experiencing a moment here, upon seeing Alec with the most curious, doe-eyed look, his hazel eyes holding a hopeful yet apprehensive look.
Directed at him.
Magnus inhaled sharply.  Magnus knew that look, from his prior experience with dating and first-meets.
Alec liked him.
Well, at the very least, Alec was attracted to him. Magnus was surprised.   Up until now, he hadn’t picked up on it at all.
It was strangely comforting though, knowing that he wasn’t alone with his feelings….
Magnus laughed softly to himself, as he leaned forward in his seat.
This seemed to evoke a reaction in Alec, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him…
Magnus berated himself for being so uncertain about things.  In other situations, he would have already been tossing off flirty one-liners galore, making the object of his attention blush fiercely.
But Magnus already knew – that was different from anything he had ever experienced before.
And thus demanded a different approach.
Magnus hummed as he thought about it for a moment.
Oh to hell with it, he thought.  Totally going for broke.
After all, Magnus could have still read things wrong…and it wasn’t as if he was laying everything down on the line, like he had a huge crush or something.
And perhaps, that was what made his decision so easy in the end – that there wasn’t as much vested in this, just yet.
Still, though, his brain thought, rejection either way would still be less than desirable –
Magnus quickly pushed his pride and ego aside.  Time to focus on the task at hand, before he lost his nerve…
“So, maybe I’m being a bit presumptuous,” Magnus said finally.  “But I’m typically not one to mince words.  Am I wrong to think that there’s something here?”
With a flourish of his hand, he gestured between them both.
……………………
Alec swallowed hard as Magnus’s question registered in his head.
He could only gaze at Magnus’s face – it was beautiful, and everything he’d ever wanted.  And suddenly, there was only one answer he could really give.
The truth.
“No,” Alec said, choking slightly on his words.  “You aren’t wrong in thinking that.” He paused, trying to figure out how to frame his words best.  “I’m sorry I acted so horribly these past few months.  I was going through a lot.  I also never really dated before, or had someone I was interested in so quickly –”
Magnus held up a finger and Alec stopped talking.  “Well,” he said. “There is one thing I want to know from you.”
“Yes?” At that moment, Alec would have agreed to anything Magnus was asking…
“How do you feel about us being roommates? Does that make this whole situation awkward to you?” Magnus asked seriously.  “Because I understand if it does –”
Alec grimaced.  “True, this could have been a less awkward arrangement,” he admitted.  “But then again, perhaps this was probably for the best.”
At that, Magnus’s eyes lit up with interest.  “Oh, really?  How so?” he asked.
“Well,” Alec said, “I was supposed to dorm with my brother Jace, that’s why we signed up for a double.  But then he left me at the last minute to go to school with his girlfriend, so there was a vacancy available.  If I had no one else to room with, I would have probably applied for a single.”  He then looked directly at Magnus.  “This is going to be shocking, but I’m not really all that great with people,” he said to Magnus, with a straight face.
Immediately he saw Magnus’s eyes twinkle as he bit his lip.
“No, you don’t say,” Magnus said, shaking his head in denial, even as he attempted to keep from laughing.
“So,” Alec concluded, “If we hadn’t become roommates, who knows if I would have even met you.  I mean, look at you. And look at me.  You’re so outgoing and gorgeous, and I prefer to be alone with my books –”
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Magnus breathed, his eyes flying wide open as he looked at Alec.
Alec shrugged, as a smile crept upon his face.
“Yea, I do,” he said.  “But you already knew that about yourself…”
Magnus appeared to ponder that statement for a moment, before a big smile appeared upon his face.
“Well, so I’ve been told,” he cracked, making Alec giggle.  
Then his face grew serious. “But actually, it sounds wonderful, coming from you.  Thank you,” he said softly.
Their gazes met and locked.
Feeling brave all of a sudden, Alec slowly reached over with his hand to entwine his fingers with Magnus’s.  Magnus’s eyes sparkled as he beamed at Alec, which made him feel warm all over.
They looked at one another, for what seemed like the longest time.
“What comes next?” Alec wondered..
Magnus hummed.  “How about a date?” he asked. “Would you go out on a date with me, Alexander Lightwood?”
Alec’s heart had never felt so full, ever…
“Yes,” he said.  “I would love to go out on a date with you, Magnus Bane.
Suddenly, Alec realized that Magnus had steadily moved closer to him in the past few minutes.
And now there was a devilish look in his soft brown eyes.  “Should we seal it with a kiss?” he asked softly, his voice nearly a purr.
It sent chills down Alec’s spine, he could barely think. And suddenly his palms were really sweaty.
”Uh, yea,” he gulped.  “T-That sounds like a good idea.  I- I actually never…”
Whatever he was going to say was lost as Magnus closed the distance between them, his soft lips pressing against his.  Alec’s heart started beating wildly with butterflies going crazy at the bottom of his gut. And then he felt his tongue gently sweep over the top of his lip, and it was the most incredible feeling ever.
Magnus moaned slightly as his hands moved to the nape of Alec’s neck, entangling his fingers through his thick hair.  That just felt so amazing, Alec moaned softly in return, as he did similarly with his lips and tongue.
When they disengaged from one another, both were breathing hard.
“Damn, that was awesome,” Alec breathed, laughing softly.  “I  hope that wasn’t too bad, on my part. I certainly don’t mind practicing more… especially if it’s with you.”
Magnus grinned widely.
“You weren’t too bad at all, pretty good, actually.  But you know what the perfect thing is about all of this?” he asked, as he leaned his forehead in toward Alec’s.
Alec looked at him inquisitively, with a smile on his face.
“Since we are roommates, we have all the time and opportunity to practice. I have so much yet to show you,” he whispered.
“I certainly like the sound of that,” Alec said shyly.
Magnus only laughed as he leaned in to kiss him again.
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orangeoctopi7 · 5 years ago
Text
Back to School
: Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 :
Stan was sullen as they left their morning math class.
“That was great!” Ford chuckled, “I thought Mr. Grauberger was going to spit out his dentures when you answered that tax-cut problem!” But he noticed his brother wasn’t laughing along. “What’s wrong?”
Stan fidgeted with his backpack strap. “Yeah, the look on his face was definitely worth it. It’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “The minute he passed out that quiz, I froze! I should know that stuff, it’s finance, it’s what I’m actually good at, but I just couldn’t think!” He scuffed his feet on the linoleum floor. “All this time, and I’m still just the dumb twin.”
Ford scowled. "That's not true. It doesn’t matter what some arbitrary scholastic test says, you’re smart! I never would have made it home if you weren’t!”
“I know, you’re right.” Stan gave a small smile, “I just... wish I could’ve proved it to them.”
“They don’t matter.” Ford said shortly. “If it makes you feel any better, you can copy off my answers the next time you freeze on a test.”
“Yeah, just like the good ol’ days.” Stan chuckled sardonically. 
They tried to lie low through the rest of the day, not answering questions in class or talking to their fellow students. Neither of them really had any friends, outside of each other, which hadn’t been great for their social development, but at least it made things easier from a time-travel perspective. Nobody found it odd that the twins were keeping to themselves.
Of course, they didn’t have all the same classes together. Ford had advanced classes in Physics and Chemistry. Stan had an extra hour of PE that was basically just more time for boxing practice, and Choir, simply because it was an easy A. 
Stan was enjoying taking some of his frustration out on a punching bag in the weights room when a hulking figure, almost as wide as he was tall, stepped behind the sandbag.
“D’you mind?” Stan complained. He didn’t want to hit whoever was back there when the bag swung back.
“Well, well, Stan the lesser. Practicin' for tomorrow's match?” Crampelter’s ugly visage peeked from behind the bag.
“Ugh. I forgot they held you back a couple of years.” Stan rolled his eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The bully demanded.
“You wouldn’t get it even if I explained it to you.” Stan smiled smugly.
Crampelter stepped up to Stan. He was still almost a head taller. “Your brother’s supposed to be the smart-mouth.”
“We’re trading shifts.” Stan replied flippantly, not even remotely intimidated. “Now do you wanna do this right now, or can we save it for the ring? Y’know, where I can get paid to punch your face in.”
“You’re just scared to take me without a ref!”
“Not even a little. I just need the cash. I got a parking ticket to pay, apparently.”
With that, Stan swung a powerful left hook into the punching bag, swinging it directly into Crampelter’s gut. The bully doubled over, and Stan took the opportunity to get out of there. While he was confident he could take Crampelter even in a dirty fight, it really just wasn’t worth the trouble. 
He decided to skip Choir today and check on Ford. It seemed like their childhood bully was looking for a fight.
It took Stan a while to remember where Ford’s classroom was. He tried to just peek in quietly, but the teacher’s head immediately snapped to the door.
“He’s not here.” She said brusquely as soon as she saw who it was.
“Uh… d’you know where he went?”
“Said he needed supplies for his science fair project.” and with that, she returned to the board, where she was writing what Stan now recognized as the equation to calculate the gravitational forces two objects exert on each other.
There were a few places Ford could have gone to find supplies. First Stan checked the Chemistry lab and the art room. He finally found his brother in the auto shop, which was empty this time of day. When Stan opened the door, Ford was standing at the back of the room casually, with his best ‘innocent angel’ look.
“Oh, it’s just you.” the scientist went back to rummaging through the welding equipment as soon as he saw his brother.
“What are you doing!?” Stan hissed as he crossed the shop.
“Well I can’t fix the time tape using whatever dad’s got lying around.”
“Yeah, I get that part. But you could get kicked outta the science fair for stealin’ from the school!”
“As a wise man once said,” Ford flashed his brother a knowing grin, “Only if I get caught.”
Stan couldn’t help but be a little proud, but there was too much at stake for that right now. “At least let me do it, I already swipe enough stuff that they’ll expect it, and it doesn’t matter if I get in trouble.”
Ford rolled his eyes but relented. “Knowing how the administration feels about you, even if I did get caught, they’d probably find a way to pin it back on you anyway.”
Stan took a look at the box Ford had been ransacking. “So whaddya need?”
“The smallest soldering iron you can find.”
“What kinda filling?” 
“It’s called solder.” Ford corrected him automatically, “Ideally, Lithium, but I know they’re not going to have it. Tin or Copper should suffice.”
“Anything else?”
“A face shield and anything else you can find that'll help working with small circuitry."
"Pretty sure Dad's got some jeweler's lenses in the pawn shop. If you tell him it's for the science fair project, he'll probably let you use ‘em."
Ford grimaced. “I’m worried if I ask to use any of dad’s tools, he’ll want to see how it’s coming.”
“So just show him the preliminary frame. It’s not like he actually gets how the perpetual motion machine is supposed to work. You can just hide the time tape in a drawer or something.”
Ford nodded reluctantly. “Well, I suppose I’d better leave, if we don’t want to get caught. I wish cell phones had already been invented; I’d text you if I thought of anything else I might need.”
“Pch, we never needed those pieces of junk before!” Stan scoffed. “Oh, wait! Before you go, I was lookin’ for you to warn you. I ran into Crampelter earlier, seemed like he was lookin’ for a fight, so, uh, might wanna watch your back.”
Ford flashed him a vicious smile. “Honestly? I welcome the opportunity.”
“Tryin’ to stick to the timeline, remember?”
“Fine, fine, I’ll try and stay out of his way, but if he comes after me…”
“Then you can use your 30 years of sci-fi survival skills to get out of there without causin’ a scene.”
“You’re no fun.” The scientist pouted.
“If I can’t leave Shermie a note, you can’t beat up Crampelter.”
Ford wanted to argue that one of those would alter the timeline significantly more than the other, but he also knew that Stan would not want to hear it. And besides, he really needed to get out of there before anyone else showed up.
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writing-appreciation · 5 years ago
Text
Hazel Eyes
SYNOPSIS: You have hazel eyes, but in most lights they appear to be a dirty brown. Instead of giving that complicated explanation, you just say you have brown eyes; but one day a boy says otherwise.
PARING: Stark!Reader X Peter Parker
WARNINGS: Moderate language. Possible Endgame Spoiler? If you look into it, yes, but on the surface, no spoilers.
WORD COUNT: 1,807
A/N: Just a little imagine for my fellow hazel colored eyes people out there. I am over it. This is actually inspired by something that happened to me not too long ago at class. Some elements are fictional, but inspiration is everywhere. So, enjoy!
..................................................................................................
It was annoying having hazel eyes that look brown. It made the question, "What colour are your eyes?" difficult to answer.
And that's the situation I found myself in today in Newspaper class. We weren't doing much as the school year was winding down. Other than planning stories for next year, we had nothing to do. Ultimately we all ended up playing random personality quizzes we found online. It was all fun and games until my least favourite question appeared.
“What is your eye colour?”
Without a beat I responded with a simple, “Brown.”
Ned, who was working the computer, just clicked on my answer.
Although I noticed how Peter seemed caught off by this question.
“Wait, my eyes are brown.” He said. “Look at me.”
I looked up, knowing what his answer would be. The lighting in this room sucked. The green specs in my eyes would be basically invisible here.
Peter looked into my eyes for a bit. Not gonna lie it made me feel awkward.
“No, she definitely has hazel eyes.” He finally spoke up, still eye locked with me.
I was taken back. Peter was the first person to notice my eye colour. Clearly he noticed my confusion as he cleared his throat and clarified.
“I mean, look, there’s clear green specs on the inner ring of her eyes. There’s even a little bit of blue. Ned look at them.”
Peter pulled Ned up by the arm and positioned him to face me.
“Hey Ned.” I said.
“Hi, (Y/n).” He replied awkwardly.
This is starting to feel like a circus show.
“Nah, man I’m just seeing brown eyes, not any green or blue.”
“Well, the lighting in here does suck.” I finally spoke up. I was a little confused because I had never noticed blue in my eyes.
“Yeah, but Peter saw the the colour.” Ned called his friend out.
This did throw me off. How did Peter see the colour in my eyes? It could be his hypersenses, but that still doesn’t make that much sense.
This seemed to hush Peter. A slight blush also climbed up his neck.
“Let me see.” MJ looked up from her book.
I walked over to her. She was sitting in the corner of the room. She observed my eyes.
“You know Peter likes you, right?” She whispered, looking into my eyes.
“Pft. No he doesn’t.” I defended.
“Dude, he just talked about the green specs in your eyes. He was one sentence away from confessing his love with you.” She said quickly, still keeping her voice low.
“Brown. Definitely brown.” MJ called out to the boys, but not breaking our eye contact.
“Okay, that’s it. (Y/n), come on.” I heard Peter call to me.
I looked at him to see him grabbing a camera and a hall pass.
“Peter, what are…”
“I’m proving you have Hazel eyes. Come on.” He began to walk out the room.
“Good luck.” MJ said, smirking.
Without anything to do, I decided to roll with this.
Peter was walking incredibly quickly. He was already halfway down the hallway when I exited the room.
“Peter, you wanna slow it a bit?” I called to him.
“Oh sorry.” He said and stopped so I could catch up.
“Not all of us have spidey powers of high endurance.” I whispered.
He laughed, “Alright I’ll keep that in mind. Come on, what’s a well lit area in this school?”
“Cafetiera? The lights are way too bright in there.” I suggested.
“No, I think we should go outside. Your colour comes out really well when you’re outside.” He absentmindedly remarked.
I looked at him puzzled.
“Well, I mean, like from what I’ve noticed. Not that I’m just staring at your eyes constantly. I just like keeping eye contact with people. Plus they’re good eyes. I mean, not that they’re not pretty. They are beautiful I MEAN, the colours go well together. The green specs and blue accents really bring out the element of kindness. They compliment your pr.. personality.” He stumbled on his words.
I laughed at his rambling, “Peter, breathe. And thank you.”
He finally looked back at me and looked mortified.
Maybe there was some truth to what MJ told me.
“So, I have a macro lens, so I should be able to get a nice photo of your eyes.
“Oh, the eyes that have green specs and blue accents that bring out my element of kindness?” I asked innocently.
He blushed even harder, if possible.
When we got to the school courtyard, Peter went into full photographer mode. He began correcting the white balance and setting the ISO.
“Where do you want me Photographer Parker?”
“Uh, here. Sit on the bench and I’ll try this lighting.”
I did as I was told.
Seeing Peter behind a camera was a sight I don’t think I’ll ever forget. He looked hyper focused. Not to mention the fact that a camera was centimeters away from my eye. Peter himself was directly in front of me. He licked his lips in concentration. I stayed still, not particularly wanting to leave this position.
I heard the shutters of the camera.
Peter pulled the camera away and sat next to me. He began to go through the photos. They looked great. Peter was right, there was definitely some blue in my eyes.
“Wow, if those weren’t my eyes, I’d love them.” I joked.
“You don’t like your eyes?” Peter asked, searching my eyes for an answer.
“Not really. They always look brown. But look at their real colour. It sucks.” I complained.
“Well, I think they’re pretty.” He said, smally. “Besides you don’t have ugly poop coloured eyes for real. That’s something I have to deal with everyday.”
“Peter, your eyes are not ugly. Their nice.”
“Yeah, just nice. Yours are beautiful.”
My breathing hitched. Peter Parker just called my eyes beautiful two times in the past 15 minutes.
Without thinking I grabbed the camera off of Peter’s neck and stood up. Peter followed my lead.
“Oh, no , no Parker.” I pushed him back down, “I’m taking pictures of your eyes now.”
“No, (Y/n), the goal was to get a picture of your eyes, not mine. Besides, they aren’t worth the memory.”
Instead of a response, I positioned the camera in front of his left eye.
He kept moving.
“Peter, stop moving. You’re gonna ruin the picture.”
And he did. So I focused in on capturing Peter’s eye in a photo.
It was my turn to sit down by him and show him the photo.
“See, nice eyes. Dare I say beautiful.” I teased him.
“(Y/n)...” He trailed off.
I looked up to him and saw him looking at me. His eyes flicked to my lips.
“Peter?” I responded.
Before I knew it he had his lips on mine. I felt the camera go limp in my hands. Peter pulled away and swiftly caught the camera. Damn, I couldn't lie. That was attractive as hell.
“Drop this?” He asked, confidence in his voice pronounced.
I just nodded as I stood up.
“We should probably get back. The bell’s gonna ring soon.” I quickly took off.
I heard him jog ahead of me. The little gentleman went to grab the door for me.
“M’lady.” He stepped aside so I could get back in the school.
I muttered a quick thanks and proceeded to walk back to class.
I couldn’t help but let my thoughts wonder. What the heck just happened? Peter B. Parker, the most awkward, adorable dork in MidTow Tech history just kissed me? I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss him more regularly. I mean, come on. He's cute, funny, smart, and is a superhero.
“(Y/n), please stop.” He lightly grabbed my arm before I could get far. This pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Listen, I don’t think it’s a secret that I like you.”
Wait, hold up. Does everybody know about this except for me? Why, more how, was I left out of this memo?
“Say something, because you’re starting to freak me out.” He pleaded.
I paused, trying to find some type of confidence. Luckily, I did.
“You know, my dad loves you, but loves the idea of me being single more.” I finally looked at him.
His face lit up. This could be interesting. Especially given who my dad is.
“Mr. Stark loves me? I don’t see a problem here.” He smirked.
I smirked too. This was definitely going to be interesting.
"Well then, talk to him. See how it goes." I suggested.
He looked mortified.
"May I suggest wearing your suit because you may want to make a hasty exist after you tell him you have a crush on his eldest daughter."
That clearly didn't help him feel any better.
"Okay, cool thanks for the tip." He breathes out as we enter the classroom again.
This time all eyes were on us.
"The pictures?" Ned asked as we sat down.
Peter slid the SD card into the slot and pulled up the photos.
"You're right, definitely hazel." Ned replied, now changing the quiz answer.
"(Y/n), come here!" MJ called.
I walked over to her corner. That's when an epiphany hit me. Her spot was adjacent to a window that overlooked the courtyard.
"So that kiss."
I heard a pin drop. Yep, her corner would've given her a front row seat to everything that just went down.
I feel like for a moment I forgot how to speak english. A series of strange noises left my mouth.
"Yeah, Ned and I saw everything."
I looked back to Ned and Peter, who was now completely red.
"We didn't expect Peter to make the move, but here we are."
I chuckled at this.
"Well, MJ, I guess you were right."
"I'm always right."
I waved goodbye and walked back to the boys.
"Hey, so I just texted your dad telling him we need to talk."
"Already? Somebody's in a rush."
"(N/n), I've literally been waiting since 7th grade."
I laughed, "Really? 7th grade, wow."
"Yes, really. Trust me, I was there. It was almost embarrassing how much he liked you." Ned chirped in.
"Dude." Peter playfully hit his friend.
"No, no Ned. Tell me more about how Peter's embarrassing crush." I pleaded.
And so he did. Ned went on about every detail he could remember.
I smiled as Peter sat with his head in his hands, clearly embarrassed about everything.
"It's fine, he's embarrassing and cute." I said.
Peter slowly raised his head, a familiar shade of pink dusting his cheeks.
This was going to be fun. All that was left was to break the news to dad that his daughter and his mentee both liked each other. That's a story for another time.
A/N: Trying to cope post Endgame, this helped. I'm still in denial.
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precuredaily · 5 years ago
Text
Precure Day 151
Episode: Yes! Precure 5 03 - “Who’s the Precure of Effervescence?” Date watched: 3 October 2019 Original air date: 18 February 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/wUrfDcF Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout
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If you like drinking games, watch this episode and take a shot every time they say the word “effervescent” or variations and report back to me. Cure Lemonade’s title and role call describe her as “はじける” (hajikeru) which every translator to ever touch this show has seemed to agree translates best as “effervescent”, an uncommon word which can either mean bubbly (in the context of beverages) or lively and appealing, when talking about people. To reinforce my point, here’s every English sub I could get my hands on:
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First off, here is the Arienai fansub from around 2007, the first ones to ever translate this episode to English and thus establish the use of the word “effervescent.”
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Following Arienai’s disbandment, in 2009 TV-Nihon took up the task of subbing and I know from talking with him that their translator was very aware of the Areinai sub, and also pretty new to translating, so he probably took heavy inspiration from their choice.
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Lastly, here is the version used by Pretty Cure Splash Subs in 2014, although they admit that they took the Arienai scripts for the earlier episodes and just tweaked them a tad.
Amusingly, “bubbly” in the sense of personality is a pretty good synonym. I can only assume that they keep coming back to “effervescent” because within the narrative, Nozomi and Rin are confused when Coco tells them there’s a Precure of “hajikeru” so they chose a less common word to convey that better. It feels a little clunky to read but what can you do. Anyway, enough about one word, what’s this episode about?
The Plot
Urara is auditioning for a show and the interviewers quiz her about her school life, since she seems upbeat. She’s unwilling to admit that she spends most of her time at school alone, and she can’t talk about seeing two upperclassmen turn into Precure, so she lies and says everything is great.
At school, Rin catches a Pinky with Coco, this time using a trumpet. He then explains that the two of them are the cures of hope and passion, and they still need to find the cures of intelligence, tranquility, and effervescence. (1 shot!) 
Over in Nightmare Corporate HQ, Bunbee tells Girinma he’s not performing up to standards, so he bring in the next consultant, a portly man named Gamao.
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After school, Nozomi takes Coco home with her as a fairy, gives him a cream puff (the signature food of this show) and turns on the television. When her dad sits up from sleeping on the couch she quickly tries to hide Coco and distract her dad by pointing out Urara on the TV, saying she knows her.
The next day during lunch, Nozomi and Rin see Urara sitting alone and goes over to talk to her, saying she can ask them anything. So, Urara comes right out and asks what Precure is, causing the two girls to fumble for an answer before running off when the bell rings for the end of lunch. However, Nozomi comes back to retrieve her left-behind bento and decides to skip class and take Urara on a tour of the school grounds. When Rin and Coco find out about this they’re upset and they run off to find her, but Urara seems to be having a great time with Nozomi.
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They get to the auditorium and Urara comments that she will stand on that stage someday! At this point, Nozomi declares that the two of them are good friends and reveals that she is a Pretty Cure, and don’t tell Rin. Well of course who should barge into the theater at that moment than Rin, with Coco on her heels, angry at Nozomi for cutting class and generally being a bad influence on the underclassman. But before Rin and Coco can properly chew her out, Gamao reveals himself and demands that they hand over the Dream Collet. Nozomi and Rin transform, urging Urara to run away, which she hesitates to do. Eventually she gets out, but she trips in the hallway, and after some introspection, decides to turn around and run back to help the two girls who protected her. Her strong feelings summon a yellow butterfly, allowing her to transform into Cure Lemonade! She unleashes her special attack, Precure Lemonade Flash, which takes the form of a flock of butterflies divebombing the Kowaina, freeing Dream and Rouge and allowing them to defeat the monster. Gamao runs off, complaining that he won’t get paid for this, and the auditorium resets to normal.
Outside, the girls remark that Urara is the perfect fit for the Cure of Effervescence, and Coco says he’ll fill her in on all the details after she and Nozomi serve detention for skipping class. However, the episode ends on a happy note, as the three new friends agree to work together from now on.
The Analysis
What I like about these shows with a larger roster of Cures is that it allows each girl to have their own reason for fighting. While all three girls so far have done it to protect someone, the motivation behind that protection has varied. Nozomi wants to help Coco revive his homeland. Rin wants to protect her oldest friend, Nozomi. Urara wants to save her newest friends, especially Nozomi, who saw that she was lonely and made it a point to spend time with her. Becoming a Precure ties directly into a personal problem in each of their lives, and that’s..... magical.
Urara in particular may hit close to home for some people, because achieving your dream can sometimes isolate you. Since Urara was always rehearsing or going to auditions, she didn’t have the time to make friends at school, and she was hurting for it. Nozomi was the first person to take notice of her, beyond simply being a celebrity. Nozomi saw a new student who seemed kinda lonely, and decided to show her a good time. The fact that she’s an aspiring celebrity is a side note for Nozomi, a cool thing to tell her parents, but it’s not why she approached her. They clicked in their first meeting and Nozomi decided she’d make a good friend. Then, when they were friends, Nozomi decided to tell her about Precure and their fight against Nightmare. Sure, it’s partly because Nozomi has little filter, but also she saw someone she could confide in. Unlike the other three members of the team, she didn’t pick out Urara as a good candidate to be a cure, Urara earned her spot purely of her own will. She literally ran away from the fight, but her concern for the others and desire to face her fears brought her back.
There’s a recurring trope in the team-building shows that I don’t like, though, which is that the existing heroines somehow find themselves conveniently disabled or unable to fight, making room for the new girl to swoop in, transform for the first time, and save the day. In the two-girl shows, if both of them got tied up, they had to use their wits to escape. I don’t mind it happening once or twice but it seems to be the only way the writers ever know how to introduce a new character is by making the other ones into jobbers.
On the villain side of things, we get to see a little more of Nightmare, which is always fun. Their HQ is a giant office building with devil horns!
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You kind of have to wonder if this is just in the middle of downtown or if the other buildings are all in some ~evil dimension~. Also, we find out what happens to under-performers at Nightmare.... they get dropped down a shaft. Seems like kind of a hostile work environment but it’s great for setting the tone.
While I’m discussing Nightmare, let’s talk about Gamao in particular. Gama means “toad”, which is why Gamao is a toad. SHOCKING. Anyway, unlike the go-getter Girinma, Gamao is very simple-minded: he wants to get the Dream Collet so he can get paid, and isn’t interested in wasting time laying traps or listening to the girls’ life stories. He’s portrayed as a very portly man, looking kind of sloppy in his human form, not at all up to the normal appearance standards of a corporation. he wears cargo shorts, a t-shirt (it actually has a giant T on it), and an unbuttoned button-down shirt. Everybody else in the company wears a suit. Nightmare must be pretty desperate for employees if they let him work for them. Also, we now have a bee, a mantis, and a wasp, so let’s lay out the motif of Nightmare. All of them are animals that prey on butterflies, which of course are the motif of the cures. It’s a very clever pattern that I hadn’t even noticed until it was pointed out to me the other day.
This episode shows us very clearly what Karen must have seen during the first episode, when the auditorium magically restores itself after the battle. (check the gallery) It’s never explained how this happens in most shows, but it’s a constant so at least they allude to it. Indeed, their battle does not go entirely unnoticed this time, since even though they’re indoors, the commotion of the fight causes the students in Karen and Komachi’s class to turn their heads and wonder what’s going on. Karen is going to check it out, but Komachi stops her because they’re in the middle of class. I really like how proactive they are in trying to solve the mystery and very soon their time will come.
I think that about does it for my thoughts this time. Next time, what’s that minty smell? Look forward to it!
Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 kettei!
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wxnnabe · 6 years ago
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number 6 w narancia Mayhaps?
@ narancia is best friend, what a tip top friend good on ya mum
You once drew comfort in the trio often sat in the park on a bench or lounging on a picnic rug. After a frustrating day of school, you would pass by the trio of misfits often-when you first saw them, you recognised them almost straight away-the mafioso of Passione, at least in the neighbourhood you resided in, were treated with respect. Bruno Buccellati was, after all, a good man, and his actions followed his name like a trail of evidence to that claim. You would only have to ask around a bit to know half of the ways he would go above and beyond for the rest of the community, and it was hard to admit that he was actually and probably very capable of murder. The trio here were amongst his little rag tag team-you would see them fleetingly, around about the city.
But you managed to notice them parked next to the water fountain first when you heard a commotion happening as you turned to the very opening coming home from school one evening. Two of the boys were tackling each other, pens and books flying. It seemed like any attempts at a peaceful picnic were lost, and you couldn’t help but think this wasn’t the first time as the third one had sat back and complained for them to knock it off. You felt something hit your leg, and as you bent down you found a pen-probably from all the fighting happening almost right in front of you. You picked it up, and for a brief moment glanced at the fight unfurling in front of you.
As luck would have it, your eyes caught on a book that was thrown onto the edge of a plate, smashing the plate and propelling some of the shards to your crouched figure. The bits of broken china and food on the plate were flying right at you, aimed for your face. Your hands flew up to protect yourself, and you barely managed to protect your face from the flying pieces of cake and fine china debris. Finally, the two stopped fighting to the crash of the plate and the scuffle and a muttered curse as you struggled to find your footing with a searing pain that was now throbbing through your arm. There was a sudden silence as their friend flew into action, calmly walking toward you.
“Ah, now look what you’ve done!” He calls out to them, and the two break apart, the blond one straightening up his bizarre suit. The other huffed slightly, but peered over to what had gotten his friend so worked up. You looked to the man looming in front of you. He was equally dressed in an insane get-up that you would have laughed at if not for your current situation. He gave you a wary once over, and you realised that you were still holding onto the pen in your hand. Words tumbled out of you in a stammer as your brain tried to keep up with what was happening.
“S-sorry I just, thought this was yours and I was gonna slide it back to you-” The one with the bandanna cut you off, pointing to your left hand.
“Hey, you’re bleeding!” He looked mildly concerned, though you could still see the cautious look from his friend in his eyes. Your eyes glanced from his to the man in front of you, to your hand as you bent it over to have a proper look where the throbbing was coming from. Sure enough, a piece of the plate had wedged itself into your arm, blood trickling down from your elbow. You blinked as a drop trickled down from the wound to the tip of your elbow. You let out a small mutter of “ouch” before extending your arm slightly as the blood dripped onto the pavement. The boy in front of you held your hand, and tilted your arm slightly to get a better look.
“Tsk…hey, at least next time watch out for your surroundings, you two!” The boy who was crouched next to you flashed you a warm smile.
“You’re in good hands, honey!”
You later learnt of their names. Guido Mista, the one who would playfully flirt with pretty girls and trembled at the sight of anything in pairs of fours. Pannacotta Fugo, one of the boys fighting, was smart and kind, but you learnt quickly not to tease his temper. And the last, Narancia Ghirga, he one who called out to you; he was energetic, and loud-but their was a fierce loyalty and trust that he gave to his friends you almost envied.
Often times, one of the others from the gang would tag along with them. Abbacchio and Giorno were nice, but reserved. Fugo explained they were often there so your little group wouldn’t turn into a four.You’d like to say that you were friends with them, but Fugo would deny it.
“You don’t want to be friends with us. You don’t want anything to do with us, if you can help it,” It frustrated him, when you hung out with them, but he eventually got used to it. Mista seemed indifferent to you; you had your suspicions he was simply acting cool, though, because he’d be all over you the moment you offered to shout them a pizza. Narancia did warm up to you, and would now welcome you every time you turned through the park. You would chat with the three casually, and Narancia would quiz you on school and your assignments. He seemed to pale as you described the multitude of your work, and Fugo would hastily change the subject. Narancia confided in you later on that he had dropped out very young, and was trying to study to finish his schooling.
“That’s really amazing, Narancia! If you ever need any help, just ask yeah?” You were sat cross legged next to Narancia, with Fugo chatting with Giorno about the book he was reading next to him and Mista off buying a pizza, losing some bet the group were haggling over before you came by.
“Yeah, I guess…studying’s a pain in the ass, so thanks for offering,” He grumbles, and you laugh.
“If it wasn’t difficult, it wouldn’t be worth doing right?” He gave you a mischievous grin.
“Right. Oh, and who are you again? Some kind of old wise master?” You were about to playfully smack him when Mista slides some pizza boxes down and plonks himself down with a loud sigh.
“Man, can we wait ‘til there’s five of us to start makin’ bets?” Narancia gives him a smug grin as his mouth is already stuffed with a slice of pizza.
“But then we won’t be able to exploit you and your phobia!” Mista looks about ready to cause a scene, but Giorno cuts in between the two and opens another box.
“It’s not like your short on cash,” Mista takes another slice, and sighs again, his tone pointed to the boy next to you as he speaks up.
“I just don’t like watching my money drain to a rigged bet, that’s all,” Narancia picks up on this, and leans back to catch Mista’s eyes.
“Oi, we didn’t rig it at all! Your just obsessing over nothing is all!” Mista stands to this, his slice long forgotten.
“Hey, don’t make me go over this again! I’m serious, four really is bad news!” While the two bickered on, Giorno had turned to you with a curious look.
“Why are you always here?” Despite how it was posed, his tone and expression didn’t look malicious. And though he had asked you with a serene smile, you could see he wanted an answer that satisfied the question. You pondered for a while. Surely you knew that they were dangerous? If the wrong person saw you hanging out with them, they could get the wrong idea about you…or, even worse, what you meant to them. Being kidnapped and held for ransom wasn’t exactly on your bucket list.
“Well…I mean I guess you guys are like my friends, right?” You considered them close. Narancia especially. For some reason, the two of you just clicked, and a couple of times he would even walk you home from school, just to get some time in to vent or ask you about your day. You’d gotten pretty adept to calming him down from his outbursts, and you’d like to say he’s made you a bit more confident to just have fun. You really did look forward to hanging out with them.
“Have you ever taken any thought to if you got hurt because of that?” Fugo snaps at you, but his eyes betray his worry. You note that he doesn’t shoot down the prospect of ‘friends’ with some relief.
“No one’s going to hurt you,” Narancia startles you, jumping into the conversation.His attention turned away from Mista, he’s now looking directly at you with a deadly serious tone in his voice. In your peripheral, you can see Giorno smiling, though you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with those violet eyes. He looks dead serious.
“Sorry?” Your still reeling from that statement, No one’s going to hurt you. How on earth could he be so sure?
“I said, no one’s going to hurt you. No one will hurt you, not on my watch!” He gives you a grin, and suddenly he’s back to his normal self again. He takes a playful bite out of the slice of pizza in your hands, and with a “Hey!” he laughs, and the dark mood from the conversation is long forgotten.
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