#SORRY IT'S SO LONG half of it is basically just me explaning masks

[pickledpascal]

The Way The Water Flows

Chapter Eight: In My Dreams, I'm More Honest

Warnings: blood manipulation in the house, pain kink kinda, alcohol, smoking

Word Count: 1.9k

The Way The Water Flows Masterlist

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Once Maya returned home and got cleaned up, she was given a strict talking-to from Charles. About how she shouldn't have run off and that she should've been more up front about her powers. Charles trusted her and, although he still did, it was a breach of that trust.

Maya came out of his office looking like a scolded child. Only to be met with Logan.

Oh, Logan.

He had practically scrubbed her clean from all the blood, making sure every last drop was erased from her skin. He was so good to her. And Maya felt conflicted. It wasn't that she wasn't being honest but just that she hadn't told him everything. However, Logan didn't feel owed an explanation, he knew the feeling of being told he was a monster more than most mutants. To the point where he believed he was one.

“How are ya, bub?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He brought her close—a little selfish on his part—to breathe in her scent.

Maya pursed her lips as they walked down the halls of the mansion. “I'm okay now…” She drew in a deep breath as they made their way outside.

Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, not believing that for a second. He sat down on the back porch steps with Maya as she looked out at the horizon. His hand fell to her lower back.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” She murmured, picking at her thumb.

Logan's heart ached for her. He would feel sorry for the day she saw him rip someone limb from limb. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I've seen a lot in my lifetime.”

Maya's lips twitched. “Maybe. Still,” She stressed, “I'm… I'm not a monster. I don't want to be. I already stick out more than I want to.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Maya. She had been refusing to properly look into his eyes since… since the plane ride back home. He breathed in through his nose and exhaled a few moments later. Patience wasn't a strong suit of his. He was working on it.

“So what are the limits to your mutation?” Logan had a feeling she'd tell him anyway in fear of keeping it from him.

Maya's jaw clenched but she rolled her shoulders to relax. “I can control nearly any liquid as long as it has enough water in it.” His head tilted slightly. She let out a breath, “The human body consists of seventy percent water. Or did you forget that since it’s been centuries since you’ve been to school?” She finally turned to look him in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eyes that was obviously masking something underneath.

“I know the basics of anatomy, sweetheart.” Logan leaned closer, cupping her jaw. He was half-tempted to grab it. “I work here, don’t I?” He could tell he must’ve caught her off-guard with the touch.

His eyes took in her features as if it was the first time again. And maybe it was. She was far more powerful than he had initially thought. The ability to control someone’s body through their blood could be quite useful, even if it were painful for the target. The pain was what interested Logan. How would it feel to be on the receiving end of such control? How agonizing could it be? Did it burn like salt in a wound? Or was it more like being consumed by lava?

“Do it to me,” He blurted out. “The blood thing.”

Maya pulled away from his hand, releasing a scoff. “No. You don’t want to experience that.”

Logan grabbed her jaw, pulling her closer. He smirked as he heard a soft breath escape her lips. “You sure about that?” He breathed. “I know you can read my mind. Why don’t you make sure?”

Maya pursed her lips, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she focused. She breathed sharply, her throat bobbing. “Logan, you don’t—”

“Yes, I do.” He soothed quickly, “You won’t hurt me. You can’t.”

Logan adored Maya for looking out for his well-being, but it didn’t matter. Not in the end. He would heal and it would be like nothing had ever happened. And it wasn’t like his adamantium bones could break. Many of his wounds could be considered superficial when it came to him. At the same time, he knew what he was asking of her. The trust he was putting in her. Maya could stop his heart and there’d be nothing to heal. She would never do that but the thought was tempting. To feel it, to choke and struggle for oxygen though it would be futile.

Maya shook her head, just a bit since her face was still firmly in Logan’s grasp. “You still feel pain, you—” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You like it, don’t you?”

He glanced away from her. He had shown too much, hadn’t he? Embarrassment crept up his neck. “So what if I do?” Logan murmured. “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Maya let out a deep breath which tickled Logan’s skin but he could see the faintest amount of frost escape her lips. Her hand found a place on his hip and then slipped up his shoulder.

He felt it, the twisting of his blood in his veins and it made him gasp for air. His hand let go of her jaw and fell to his side. It was as if he could feel her fingers in his heart, toying with his heartstrings as if she were a puppetmaster. A whine slipped from him. The lack of air made it hard to think properly so he made no move to try to mask it.

Soon, the pressure was gone. Her hand left his shoulder and she looked at him with a light, disbelieving smile on the edges of her lips. “You’re quite something.” Maya said it with such awe that it made his chest ache worse.

Logan breathed through his mouth, glancing between her lips and her eyes. “Says you.” His tone was almost smug, instinctively acting as if he hadn’t just been whining for her.

Maya smiled softly at the compliment, a bashful expression on her face. Her face softened when he brushed her hair away from her face and ran his thumb across the scar on her brow bone. “Charles might not want to say it aloud, but I will… I’m glad you killed that Paxton son of a bitch.” He whispered.

“I am too. I don’t regret it.” She leaned into his touch and let out a breath, one that felt like it had more weight to it.

Logan stared at her for a few moments, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek as his hand lowered to her shoulder. It slipped down to her chest, feeling her curves down to her hips. A part of him felt like he had missed an opportunity to worship her body, discovering every dip and curve of her form with his hands, with his mouth.

“Guess we need to celebrate with a drink.” He smirked.

Maya tilted her head. “Isn’t this a school?” She chuckled.

“I keep it in my room,” Logan stood, offering a hand for Maya. She stood as well. “And most kids know not to fuck with me.” He nudged her shoulder.

Maya followed Logan to his room like a lost puppy, squeezing his hand as their fingers were still intertwined. “Logan, I’ve never—” She swallowed thickly. “I haven’t had alcohol before.”

Logan closed the door to his room after Maya entered and went to his dresser, pulling out a bottle of whiskey as well as a few glasses. “I know.” He had thought about that. The fact that Maya might have missed her ‘getting plastered in college’ years. “But it's better to introduce you to the good stuff first, hm?” He poured the two glasses and offered one to Maya.

She took the glass, looking down at the amber liquid. Logan looked down at his own glass thinking about how it reminded him of the color of her left eye.

He sat down on a leather chair tucked into the corner of the room. She pursed her lips when she realized the only other place to sit was the bed and a part of her was afraid of getting the liquor on the sheets, even if his room already smelled like it.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” Logan sensed the awkwardness in her bones. He beckoned her to his lap. “That’s it.” He smiled when her weight settled onto his thighs.

He held up his glass. Maya looked at him for a moment before recognition shined in her eyes. She clinked their glasses together. They each took a sip. Logan watched while Maya took a drink, eyes rolling down to the way her throat constricted to swallow.

Fucking God, everything about her made him go insane like a bullet slowly inching into his brain. His spare hand found its way onto her thigh, “What do you think?” He was itching for a cigar.

“Burns.” Maya coughed slightly, a light laugh escaping her as she set the glass down on the small table next to them. Logan’s box of cigars, an ashtray, and a lighter were left there. “But it’s not bad.”

Logan put his glass next to hers and reached over to light up a cigar. “It’s not everybody’s cup of tea.” He chuckled. The lighter flickered for a moment, his face cast in a warm light. He put the cigar between his lips and noticed the way Maya looked at him, pupils dilated.

Maya looked away from him, biting the inside of her cheek as guilt chipped away at her all of a sudden. She lifted her hands to rest on Logan’s shoulders. “I’m sorry for running off,” She looked into his eyes. The soft, golden light streaming in through the windows really accentuated the green of his hazel eyes. “The professor told me you were worried.”

“The professor has a habit of saying things he shouldn’t.” Logan blew smoke out from the corner of his lips, trying his best not to blow it in her face.

Maya wasn’t phased much by the smoke and even leaned closer. “But it’s true, isn’t it?” Her voice was gentle, soft. And with how deep it naturally was, the tone made his stomach feel fuzzy.

Logan didn’t have to admit it, she could tell by just looking at him, no need to even take a peek into his mind. He took the cigar out of his mouth for a while, letting it burn between his fingertips. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.” He confessed.

“I told you I’d come back, no matter what. Even if I was decaying six feet under.” Maya cupped his cheek, eyebrows furrowing. “I meant it.”

He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it. He breathed out a sigh.

He was so close to admitting what he felt. Not to Maya, maybe she already knew, but to himself. Jean was slowly becoming obsolete in his head. Replaced with images of Maya. The feeling of her skin against his, the shape of her lips, the sound of her voice, her intoxicating scent—it was so much. He was being consumed by her. He didn’t mind it.

Maybe he’d say it someday. Whisper it to himself in a dream.

[nestaismommy]

You’re forgetting that Tamlin also wanted to protect her after he watched her die and literally heard her neck snap. That was the problem, he was toxic and abusive because he was blinded by fear that something was gonna happen to Feyre again. So he locked her up when she wanted to go on a dangerous mission with him.

Tamlin’s face was a grim mask as they approached. “There’s activity on the western sea border. I have to go.” The one closest to Hybern.

“Can I come with you?” I’d never asked it outright, but—

Tamlin paused.

“I’m sorry,” Tamlin said, reaching for me. I stepped out of his grip. “It’s too dangerous.”

Rhysie wasn’t the only one trying to protect her. No he didn’t lock her up like Tamlin, but he did abuse, humilate, and sexually assaulted her in front of a whole ass court (and she was basically half naked). Some of the things he did wasn’t out of necessity. Like kissing her without her consent (which is sexual assault) because he was jealous. He could’ve very much covered for her and Tamlin by using his magic to fix the paint considering he fixed it before, but instead, he forced himself on her as she tried to push him off. Not just this, but having his spies strip her and have her wear something that barely covered her wasn’t necessary either. The dancing wasn’t necessary. His weak ass explanation about how he didn’t want Amarantha to suspect is dumb as fuck considering he doesn’t try to hide his hatred for Amarantha and makes it obvious he thinks Feyre will win.

“One week with me at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task.” He raised my left arm to reveal the tattoo, whose ink didn’t shine as much as the paint on my body. “For the rest of her life,” he added casually, but his eyes were now upon Amarantha.

The Faerie Queen straightened a little bit—even Jurian’s eye seemed fixed on me, on Rhysand. For the rest of my life—he said it as if it were going to be a long, long while.

He thought I was going to beat her tasks.

Saying he didn’t want Amarantha to suspect but saying shit like this is honestly hilarious. He’s basically telling her he thinks she’ll lose lmao. If that wouldn’t make Amarantha suspect, what would? Rhysand could’ve protected Feyre from afar. Like how he told Amarantha’s guards (or whatever they are) to leave Feyre alone. And they did. Like how he sent the music to help her.

Rhysand having a weak ass explanation and Feyre just going with it and pulling a “I’m honored to be your mate” then he fucks her is not them conversing about it in my opinion.

It’s not a competition between which form of abuse is worse, because both are bad. Also, Rhysand didn’t lock her up but he did have a shield around Feyre in ACOSF. And it seemed like she hated it 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, Tamlin didn’t sell Feyre’s sisters out. It was Ianthe.

Lucien’s face had slackened. “She sold out—she sold out Feyre’s family. To you.” (He’s talking to the king)

I had told Ianthe everything about my sisters. She had asked. Asked who they were, where they lived. And I had been so stupid, so broken … I had fed her every detail.”

“Sold out?” The king snorted. “Or saved from the shackles of mortal death? Ianthe suggested they were both strong-willed women, like their sister. No doubt they’ll survive. And prove to our queens it can be done. If one has the strength.”

Tamlin actually tried to stop it

Nesta began thrashing against the men that held her.

Tamlin said, “Stop.”

The king did no such thing.

Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.”

Tamlin spat at the king, “This is not part of our deal. Stop this now.”

“I don’t care,” the king said simply.

Tamlin launched himself at the throne, as if he’d rip him to shreds.

That white-hot magic slammed into him, shoving him to the ground. Leashing him.

Tamlin strained against the collar of light on his neck, around his wrists.

So that’s that.

Tamlin didn’t notice Feyre fading away because he himself was going through shit too. I wouldn’t have noticed either and even if I did, I’d be too busy trying to fight my own damn battles after I was cursed for years, and after I had a psycho ass woman lusting after me ever since I was a child. And ofc him being a high lord and having many responsibilities makes it even worse. Let’s not forget that Feyre didn’t notice how Tamlin was suffering too. Both of them were traumatized and it couldn’t work.

Also, Tamlin didn’t just realize his awful mistakes by the end. He always felt guilty for everything he did. We saw that a lot in ACOMAF. The problem is that he’d lose control and he was very much going insane. I’m glad Feyre left

Overall, both Rhysand and Tamlin are equally abusive to be honest. Them just wanting to protect her doesn’t change that.

Hopefully I didn’t miss anything- and argument aside, I hope you don’t think this is an attack lol

Y’all so goofy being Rhysand stans then hating on Tamlin for being abusive as if Rhysie isn’t abusive too

[nctjaemin]

hi i was wondering if it's not too much if you could maybe do a tutorial on how you did your icon? they're super cute x

hi there!! hfhsl i’m not sure if you’re looking for a general tutorial or like how i colored it and stuff but i’ll try to do both amdlshfslhfs WARNING i suck at explaning stuff

ok so first you find a cute photo of someone in my case DOJAE ♡♡♡♡♡ here is the super adorable picture i used:

LOOK AT THEM LOOK AT THEM THEY’RE SO CUTE and johnny you mount everest 2.0.... sry the height difference is too big so you can’t fit in my icon yOU’RE STILL MY THIRD FAVOURITE AQUARIUS I LOVE YOU

OK uh icon making isn’t science so you really just... paste it into photoshop and adjust the position etc etc. i like starting with a 200 px by 200 px canvas but it’s really up to you!! i downsize it later to 128px by 128 px so if you want you can just start with that size but it’s kind of hard to erase the background when your photo is too tiny 

ok now time to remove the background!! there are many ways to do this but i strongly recommend working with a MASK LAYER!! (so if you mess up you can get the parts you erased back easily) to add a mask layer just select the layer you’re masking and then click the little rectangle with the circle in the middle

and you should get this:

make sure when you’re masking, you have that mask layer selected!!! because or else it’ll start erasing the actual photo which then defeats the whole purpose of having a mask layer. check that your foreground color is white and background colour is black

ok so basically now you can just use the eraser or lasso tool or pen tool or whatever you use to remove the background!! AND NOW YOU MIGHT BE ASKING rini what is the difference if i just erased it normally.... WELL IF YOU MESS UP YOU JUST TAKE YOUR BRUSH TOOL AND YOU CAN EASILY RESTORE THE PHOTO! :o 21st century technology i know.... 

so when you’re done masking you should have something like this

(i used the lasso tool and did it in like 30 seconds so its kind of ugly but since im not actually making an icon ALLOW ME)

NOW time for the fun part: COLORING ❤️i really can’t make a tutorial for this part since it’ll be different for each photo but i like starting with exposure, color balance, selective color, hue/saturation in that order and then. if coloring is a big headache for you then you’re welcome to just slap on a psd bc yolo. 

idk about you but when i make icons i like to add the background last because the coloring often changes the background color so like you can start off with a pink background and then at the end.... it’s green somehow LOL but if you already added a background color and everything’s great then skip this next step.

select all the layers of coloring, right click, select “Group from Layers” or use shortcut command + g (mac users). now we want to add the same mask from the photo to the coloring so that it doesn’t affect the background. you can do that by right clicking the mask and selecting “Add Mask to Selection” (mac users can press and hold command while clicking the mask layer)

now select the coloring group and click the mask icon like before. tada now your group should have the same mask layer linked to it :D

now you can make the background whatever color you want and you should end up with something like this:

resize to 128 by 128 px (you can use avisynth if you want a sharper downsize)

now if you want a regular square icon then you’re basically done but if you want a circular one like mine then you just need to do one last part!

first unlock the background layer if you haven’t already (just click on the little lock beside it)

now select ALL the layers and make a new group.

next find the elliptical marquee tool:

change the style to Fixed Size and adjust to width and height to 128 px

and now you literally just centre the circle selection it makes. 

and add the selection as a mask AND LOOK MAGIC

now save it as a PNG and you are finished YAY upload it onto tumblr click click click oh look you’ve got yourself an icon NICE 

here is a random taeyong gif that has been sitting in my drafts to congratulate you for reading all that LOL

[gardeningintrests]

food 1a)

All around the galactic province on the eastern side of the galaxy, there was a rumour going around

"have you heard? the infamous 'deathworlders' are going to arrive in a few cycles! "

"i heard they dont have any fur! they only have skin warping up their bare muscles!"

"i heard they use high grade weapons for their daily life!"

"the rumour has it that they will eat anything within its sight when hungry"

"i heard they have hair on their heads and no where else!"

of course, some of the rumours were stupid and exagerated. but in face, a crew of humans is indeed coming its way to the galactic eastern province to attend a universal meeting about their diets and if any food from the death world (also known as Terran) can be edible by any other species.

onced the news of the rumans sudden arrival at the international space station, half of the Kaaldan species were gathering outside of the space station to satisfy their curiousity of the looks of the Terrans (humans)

"ugh, what a nuisance" captain jack said while preparing to depart onto a unfailiar land and looking outside with a window thats tainted so that outsiders cant see inside.

"well we just gotta ignore it." "yeah we have no other choice do we?"

a few of the crew said and sighed. They want to qucikly get the goody goody greeting and information insertion and then finalize their existence so that they can go places without getting scorned or gazed at with curiosity and hostility.

but they have a klong way to go, so they need to start step by step.

"welp, lets get going. the longer we stay the more people are coming here"

"can we even call them people?"

"dont be rude, Francis. We are going to be with them for the rest of our lives."

"im so resigning"

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

The crew of humans finally with the help of their hooded uniforms and masks and sunglasses, non of their face was recorded or taken a picture of. It was tiring to run from bystanders who are trying their horrible best to look at them.

they reached the meeting place.

Upon entering eveyong stood and welcomed them. in the meeting room, there was a huge round table, inside is no other than floating computer windows, statistics, notes and a system checker(like settings but more advanced)

they sat at the north of the round table (that makes them the star of the meeting)

they started as soonn as the humans took off their helmets and masks that hid of their face. and eveyone present were either wowed, shocked, scared or a mix of the said emotions.

Captain Jack Introduced himself, and eveyone is shcoked at his face. There was a huge scar, from his chin up to his forehead. Everyone present knows scars arent a good thing to talk about in any setient species.

they started with food, the basics.

once they all filled the humans screen with information of what is dangerous poison and what is edible foods around the galaxy. they provided them with the chemicals inside of the foods so that they can understand why theyre so dangerous.

afterall, humans are very curious creatures. so providing them with information would be a good idea to satisfy them.

Every species in the current seatings were proud of themsevles because they found humans a bit cute (somewhat like their young)

however.

the humans looked confused.

everyone soon tried to understand why, is it because the information is too complex for them to understand? perhaps a translation error? or perhaps they dont understand as they are not scientist?

then suddenly, one of the humans spoke : "uhmm, pardon my rudeness but is it alright for me to speak my mind?"

"of course human. "

"why is caffine not allowed?"

everyone stood in shock, and the remaining humans immediately pulled their friend down and whispered something to them. and the human seemed to relaized his mistake and apologized frantically.

"IM SO SORRY I WASNT AT MY RIGHT MIND JUST NOW, I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE CHEMICAL FORMULAS SO MUCH I FORGOT MY APOLOGIES!!"

the human shouted his apology so loud that some species had a hard time in reciving it.

the aliens were all curious but too scared to ask, until a kaaldan asked the thing everyone is thinking about .

"why do you think caffine is allowed? if im correct, caffine is a high poison. It is usually used for execution and maybe poisoning of the leaders."

eveyone noded or responded in some way that is fit to their way of agreeing.

"im terribly sorry about my comrade has said, and to answer your question just now captain Huieosyen. Because in our planet, humans sometimes need to keep themselves awake for a longer time and in order to do that, we drink a beverag called coffee....

after long hours of explaning cafine and other things that cannot be eaten however edible in some way.

all of them were shocked at the humans discovery of baking and a usage of fire. They wouldve expected them like half of them, using fire to engage in combat and defend or hunt, to find the humans not really fit into their expectations of violence.

'well its better this way, they are adorable beings and i rather them not join battles'

after a while, the humans started to talk about the dinning etiquette, courses, disserts and how they are served or how they are made. They also put up pictures and videos of the crew making the food themselves.

the aliens were... upheaveled. what? humans put bacteria on food to make it more delicious?? is this really a thing? humans like any other sentient species is that outside bacteria is not good for the body and they put it on food. the one thing they eat.

and then because of this the humans stayed another few hours explaning and giving out information for each food that basiclly exist.

"thank you so much for your cooperation, Humans. And we are terribly sorry for taking your time away."

"no no its alright, its for the safety of not only us humans but also the species out there."

and with that, the humans returned to the international space station and by the time they arrive, it was already 2 in the morning. what a long day.

a few months later, the whole article about human food is published onto the galactic net and everyone was caught off guard by the weirdness of the humans.

and soon, cook books and tv shows are suddenly on air, showing diffrent species of aliens what they can and cannot eat.

makes us wonder what would happen if they knew humans used fire for other things as well.

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.7 | Brittana

A/N - And just like that, Lockdown 6.0 is upon us LOL. Good news, more time to write. Bad news, boredom looms. Anyway, thank you to those who have left lovely reviews and/or have gifted me with a coffee through ko-fi. I hope you all know that those emails are some of the first I read when I wake up in the morning - instant happiness! 🥰

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

Being ambushed by parents ends up turning into a trend for Santana when the following weekend Maribel decides to make a spontaneous trip to New York. Apparently there’s some banquet dinner Eddie is attending which Maribel’s accompanying him to.

The invite was extended to Santana as well, but those dinners are always super boring so she blew it off with an excuse about spending time with Brittany instead since their schedules have been so busy.

What she didn’t expect is for Maribel to make an unexpected pit stop at hers and Puck’s place beforehand, hoping to at least say hi to the happy couple.

Problem is – half of said couple isn’t here.

“Mami, we’re just really busy with this assignment,” Santana tries – hoping that it would be enough to deter her mom for awhile considering Brittany isn’t around. “It’s really getting down to the wire, can’t we see you tomorrow?”

“Ay Santana, I’m already on the way,” Maribel replies in a huff. “It’s only a quick visit and we’ll be on our way.”

“Can’t you just like…skip it and continue on your way?”

“I haven’t seen you since New Year’s and I came all this way to see you – “

“You’re not even here for me, you’re here for Eddie.”

Suddenly there’s a pause and Santana wonders if that little comment just got her into some hot water.

“Why don’t you want to see your mother?” Maribel asks instead. “Are you hiding something from me? You and Puck aren’t up to something again, are you? Roping in Brittany?”

Santana’s eyes go big and it feels like she’s just swallowed a handful of sand. Her heart rate’s picking up and she’s struggling to come up with an answer. She feels like she’s got a hot spotlight on her; thank God her mom can’t actually see her right now!

“We’re not,” Santana finally says. “Like I said, Brittany and I are just a little busy with this assignment…but I guess we can take a break for you.”

“That’s my girl,” Maribel praises. “We’ll be around in about twenty minutes.”

Santana gulps, “Great. See you then.”

Once she hangs up, she grabs the nearest pillow and yells into it. The muffled screams have Puck running out of his room so fast that he clips the doorframe with his shoulder. A loud thud echoes throughout Santana’s room as Puck stumbles and looks around frantically.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks.

“We’ve got a Code Red,” Santana tells him.

His eyes drift down to her lap then back up as he starts to grimace, “Oh. Do you like…need things?”

Santana scrunches her brow but then she realizes what he’s talking about.

“No, not that Code Red,” She explains. “Mom’s on her way. I need to get Brittany over here ASAP!”

“Oh shit!” Puck curses and takes off to the living to start tidying.

The last time Maribel came around for a surprise visit, she basically tore Puck a new one. Long story short, his version of clean isn’t the same as Maribel’s and they spent an entire afternoon together going through the various cleaning products that should be used around the house and what they should be used for.

Meanwhile, Santana rushes to make the call. She just hopes that Brittany won’t give her a hard time for this, hopefully she answers the damn phone!

“Hi?” Brittany answers questioningly.

“Hey,” Santana replies.

“Did you butt dial me or something?”

“What? No.”

“You just – you never call me.”

“Yeah well…I don’t have much time to explain, but I need you to come over like right now.”

“Uhh, I’m kind of in the middle of something.“

“Brittany, please,” Santana begs. “My mom’s on her way over and she’s fully expecting you to be here too.”

“Oh! Okay, yeah. Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because I’m freaking out, that’s why!”

“Okay, well don’t freak out. It’ll be fine. How much time do I have?”

“Not much.”

“Great. Thanks for the warning.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “Look, it took me by surprise too.”

“Alright well, find your cool. We can’t have her suspecting anything’s up.”

Santana nods, already feeling a little calmer. “Just hurry, okay?”

“I’m on my way now. Don’t worry.”

\\

When Maribel comes knocking on Santana’s door, the brunette loses all cool once again because Brittany’s still nowhere in sight. Santana’s looking at Puck, but he has no idea what to do either. Maybe they can stall until she gets here, but how? Maribel would totally think something’s up if they refuse to let her inside!

“Just let her in?” Puck whispers, “We can say Britt went to pick up our take-out?”

“And further confirm that I don’t fucking cook here? No way.”

“Well, what else can we do?”

“I don’t kn –“

“Santana?” Maribel calls out from the hall after another knock. “Hello?”

Puck’s eyes go wide, “She can hear us.”

“No shit, she knows I’m home.”

“Okay, okay. I’m thinking, fuck! Why am I so stressed out?”

Santana and Puck go back and forth trying to come up with some way to stall, but it’s impossible under the pressure.

“I think we have to let her in,” Santana tells Puck in a grave tone.

Puck looks at her uneasily, “I think so too.”

After checking her phone once more for an update from Brittany – there isn’t one – Santana goes to let Maribel and Eddie in. They’re both dressed to the nines, must be a fancy banquet dinner.

“Hi!” Santana greets, attempting to mask her uneasiness.

She’s quickly embraced in a motherly hug while Puck compliments his coach on his sick suit.

“How are you, mija?” Maribel asks as she cups Santana’s cheek. “You’re looking a little pale.”

“Am I?” Santana feels the nerves rattling within her. Where the hell is Brittany?!

“Yes,” Maribel looks her over. “You’re not getting sick are you?”

Santana swallows dryly, “Just tired.”

“Because exams are coming up,” Puck clarifies.

“That’s right,” Santana nods. “Lots of studying to do if I want to ace them.”

Maribel nods, seemingly pleased by Santana’s work ethic.

“Yeah, plus her and Britt have also been super busy with this assignment they’re doing together,” Puck adds. “It’s a lot.”

“Ah yes,” Maribel looks around. “Where is Brittany?”

Santana clenches her jaw and looks to Puck. There’s a guilty smile on his face as he secretly mouths out a sorry. Still though, she has to think on her feet.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Santana replies. It’s not her best work, but it was the first thing she thought of. Maybe they can work with it?

“Yeah, I think she had a bad salad for lunch,” Puck tries again.

Santana glares at him and mouths a shut up that goes unnoticed by Maribel and Eddie.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Maribel frowns.

“Those salads are always a hit or miss,” Eddie confirms. “I try to stay away from them.”

“Don’t listen to Puck. It’s nothing like that,” Santana assures them. “Anyway, exam prep; super intense, long nights, tedious studying. I’m so ready for it to be over.”

Maribel looks apologetically at her, “Don’t work too hard.”

“That’s not what you taught me,” Santana quips.

“I know,” Maribel smiles. “I hope you’re at least wearing your glasses when you’re meant to. You know what all that reading can do to your eyes.”

“I am…”

“And rest, you still need it,” Maribel insists. “A tired mind won’t retain a thing.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

The four swivel around to find Brittany coming out of Santana’s bedroom. Her cheeks are a little pink – probably from the run over – but she’s her usual cool and collected self as she saunters over.

Santana’s never felt so relieved to see the girl! Question is though, how the hell did she pull off such an entrance?

“Brittany! Hi,” Maribel greets happily. “Are you feeling okay?”

There’s a glimpse of confusion as Brittany looks to Santana for an explanation.

“Mami, I told you she’s not sick. She was only in the bedroom to finish up a call with her mom,” Santana lies.

“Yeah. That was my bad, Mama Lopez,” Puck speaks up.

“Right,” Brittany quickly catches on. “Just my daily phone call with mom. Sorry about that, we can get carried away.”

“Oh don’t be,” Maribel smiles then glances to Santana. “Where’s my daily phone call?”

Santana fights the eye roll, “I’m clearly not as great as Brittany.”

“Now that’s a first,” Brittany smirks as she curls her arm around Santana. “I think you’re plenty great though.”

Santana finds herself blushing, “Thanks.”

There’s another pleased smile on Maribel’s face as she admires the couple. It’s a look Santana has rarely seen when it comes to her past partners and it makes her chest fill with pride. Even months later, her and Brittany still got it!

“Well, as promised this is only a quick visit,” Maribel tells them. “We really need to get going now, but while I’ve got you here: when are you coming home for a visit?”

Santana and Brittany exchange a look. They weren’t looking to make a visit for another few weeks, at least until after Spring Break. Free time is hard to come by now that they’re getting closer to the end of the semester.

“You know Abuela would like to see you both again,” Maribel adds.

Santana’s brows rise, “Would she now?”

“I think she’s warming up to things,” Maribel says vaguely but Santana gets it. “Wouldn’t hurt to come see her though. You know seeing pictures of you two together on Facebook has become a highlight for her.”

“Told you we’re cute,” Brittany jokes as she hugs Santana to her side.

“I should’ve known, she likes every single one them,” Santana quips.

“She wants to spend time with you,” Maribel explains and looks to Brittany. “She wants to spend time with the both of you.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, “Really? Has something changed?”

Maribel only shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her for yourself.”

Santana and Brittany glance at each other, both suddenly curious about Abuela’s change of heart.

“How about you come down for Spring Break?” Maribel suggests.

“Uhhh,” Santana stammers as she looks to Brittany, “We’re going to have to talk about it first. Brittany might have to – “

“Spring Break is fine with me,” Brittany shrugs.

“I thought you were planning on going home?” Santana lies – trying to get Brittany to catch on. “Spend time with your family?”

The blonde only shakes her head, “Nope. I’d rather stay here with you.”

Santana feels herself deflate; usually Spring Break is her time to finally let loose but she guesses there’s not much else she could get up to since she’s fake dating Brittany. She might as well just use the time to reinforce that she’s capable of being in a long term relationship.

By then, her and Brittany would be together for four months – that’s the longest relationship yet! Surely, that’ll have to mean something to her family.

“Well sure,” Santana sighs in defeat. “I can’t imagine spending my Spring break any other way than by returning to Lima.”

Maribel gives her a gleaming grin, “Perfect.”

\\

Once Maribel and Eddie head off to their banquet, Santana and Brittany collapse together on the couch. Puck hands them both a beer before cracking one open for himself and taking a seat opposite them.

“Way to sell it,” Puck raises his bottle. “Great work! It was cool to see you two in action like that. I can see why everyone eats this shit up. You’re pretty believable.”

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” Santana quips.

“Looks like I came right on time too,” Brittany says.

“Yeah about that,” Santana looks to Brittany. “How the hell did you get into my room?”

“The window?” Brittany shrugs. “I’m surprised it wasn’t locked.

Santana’s eyes go wide, “You climbed through the window?”

“Well yeah, how else would I have gotten in? Through the vent?” Brittany jokes.

“Good thing we’re on the first floor,” Puck chuckles.

Brittany nods and clinks her bottle with his. Meanwhile Santana just stares at the blonde with her jaw slack. Not only did she run over here, she went through the effort of climbing through the window too!

The girl is crazy.

Santana doubts she would’ve gone to the same extent. No way she’d try getting her ass through a window, that’s just too much. But still, she supposes some thanking is in order.

“Well, I appreciate you going through all that,” Santana says bashfully. “I didn’t expect my mom to just pop up like that so…thanks for coming here so quickly.”

There’s a half-smirk on Brittany’s face and Santana anticipates her poking fun at how Santana’s actually thanking her for something, but it doesn’t come. Brittany just continues smiling as she clinks her bottle with Santana’s.

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for,” She tells her.

\\

Over the following days, Santana and Brittany often run into each other at the library. It’s not Santana’s preferred place to study but it’s hard for her to concentrate sometimes with Puck around.

Although Santana and Brittany are in the same place, they often sit separately.

Brittany keeps to her lone table in the study area while Santana sits somewhere in the upper level because she likes the view of the exit. It’s kind of like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, that tunnel being the designated hour she makes herself study.

However, on one particular day all of the tables in the upper level are occupied. Santana finds herself scowling at the randoms before making her way down to the level beneath – where the study area is kept.

Like always, Brittany’s sitting alone near the back and Santana finds herself walking over to her without a second thought. She wasn’t planning on sharing the table with her, just maybe say hi and leave her be, but as Santana approaches the table she finds something unexpected there:

Spanish for Dummies

Intrigued, Santana’s eyes roam the table and find all sorts of similar books on the Spanish language mixed in with Brittany’s actual coursework. Then Santana takes a peek at Brittany’s laptop, trying to figure out what has her so consumed that she’s yet to notice her standing there.

There’s a little green owl going over conjugations – Spanish conjugations – and Santana watches as Brittany jots down notes as she mouths whatever words she hears through her headphones. Santana’s completely dumbfounded and pulls up a chair, the motion finally causes Brittany to jolt and turn.

Blue eyes spark with surprise before the headphones quickly come off. The girl looks like she’s just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but Santana can’t help the fascination.

“Santana!” Brittany gasps. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“It’s the library,” She answers simply. “I’m here to study.”

“Oh, duh. Of cour – “

“Are you teaching yourself Spanish?” Santana interrupts.

Brittany looks from her screen to the books on the table to Santana. She seems a little timid as she minimizes the program on her laptop. Santana wonders if she’s going to attempt to lie, but there’s too much evidence against her. There’s no way she could convince Santana that she’s doing otherwise.  

“Yeah,” Brittany admits with a nervous laugh. “I am.”

Santana quirks her brow, “What are you doing that for? Surely not for fun?”

Brittany shrugs, “The shows on Univision are great but I’m tired of reading subtitles.”

“Really?” Santana doesn’t seem convinced. “That’s like…a lot of work. Besides, I thought nerds like to read?”

Brittany gives her an unimpressed look, “Well…I also figured that if I knew a little Spanish then it’ll give Abuela and I something to bond over. I remember your aunts mentioning this one show she likes so I’ve kind of been binging it.”

“You’ve been binging telenovelas?” Santana asks in disbelief.

“Well yeah, the drama is addicting.”

“Oh wow,” Santana sits back. “So you’re serious about this?”

“Aren’t you?” Brittany replies.

“Yeah, but this is a new level.”

“Don’t you want to be as convincing as you can be?”

“There’s convincing and then there’s this,” Santana jokes. “Your over-achiever tendencies are showing again.”

“You jealous?” Brittany fires back. “I know how much you love it when your mom compares us.”

“I’m not jealous,” Santana turns up her nose.

Brittany smirks, “Just checking. Afterall, this whole thing was your idea.”

“Technically it was Puck’s.”

“Whatever,” Brittany says. “I’m going to do all that I can to make this work because I’m committed. You continue doing…whatever it is that you do.”

Santana tenses her jaw at the jab. It reminds her of the game they played before– the constant one-upping of each other – and she wonders if they’re still playing it.

She thinks about how she accidentally introduced herself to Brittany’s parents as her girlfriend. She remembers how Brittany now has to keep up this façade with them too thanks to the slip-up. She thinks about who this Artie guy is and why Brittany’s parents were wondering where he went.

But most importantly, she thinks about how underwhelming she is as a girlfriend.

She’s nothing like Brittany; she isn’t kind and sweet and she isn’t someone people take home to meet their parents. Santana’s the girl that helps you get over your ex, she’s the one college girls experiment with, she’s down for one night stands, down for no-strings-attached kind of hook ups – she’s not actual girlfriend material.

And oddly enough, she kind of feels bad that Brittany’s stuck with her for the time being. This fake relationship thing wasn’t meant to go beyond convincing Maribel, but that’s exactly what’s happened now thanks to her big mouth.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” Santana says after the guilt starts setting in.

“I want to,” Brittany tells her.

Santana sighs; yet another reason why they’re so different.

“Learning a language just to get Abuela to like you?” Santana explains. “Don’t you think that’s kind of going overboard?”

“Not really. It’s kind of fun.”

“Fun?”

“Well yeah, I’ve always wanted to learn another language,” Brittany replies. “Why not start now? Plus I meant what I said about the subtitles thing. It would be so much easier not having to read.”

Santana chuckles as she shakes her head, “How do you find the time? I’m swamped with studying and assignments and cheer practice. Here you are learning another language for fun.”

“I kind of have a photographic memory.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “Of course you do.”

“I’m joking,” Brittany smirks. “I have a bunch of techniques that help cut down on the amount of time you’re actually studying so you don’t spend all your time doing it. I could…teach you some if you want?”

Santana lifts her chin, “I don’t need a tutor.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Brittany laughs. “Why are you always so quick to be on the defense?”

Santana crosses her arms and looks away, “I’m not.”

“Uh-huh,” Brittany grins. “I’ve got a study session with Puck on Thursday. I think it’s actually going to be at your place. We can not share study tips then if you want?”

Santana lets the offer roll around in her head but she doesn’t want to seem too eager.

“I might be around, depends if practice lets out on time.”

“Okay,” Brittany nods then looks at her laptop screen before glancing back at Santana who has yet to move. “So are you sitting with me now or…?”

“Oh!” Santana jolts to stand up. She gathers her bag from the ground and looks around for an empty table, but they’re all occupied.

“I’m not kicking you out, you know,” Brittany tells her without looking away from the screen. “You can stay if you’d like.”

Santana looks around indecisively. She’d rather study alone, but that doesn’t seem to be an option at the moment. She can’t go home either with Puck around, so she guesses staying with Brittany is the next best thing.

“Okay,” Santana replies. “I’ll stay.”

“I’ll clear some space for you,” Brittany says.

Santana moves to the opposite end of the table while Brittany gathers her things in order for Santana to have more room on the table for hers. They sit silently like that working on their respective things for awhile, getting lost in their work.

Brittany ends up leaving the table for a moment and Santana barely notices until she’s placing a coffee in front of her.

“Oh thanks,” Santana smiles at the unexpected gesture.

Brittany doesn’t say anything, just returns the smile as she sits back down.

Another moment later when Santana gets peckish, she pulls out a bag of trail mix. She barely gives it a second thought when she places it between them so that Brittany can have some too if she wants.

\\

When Thursday comes around, Santana ends up leaving cheer practice on time for once. She’s quick to get out of there so that she can wash up and change out of her uniform before Brittany arrives, but she finds that the blonde is already there by the time she gets home.

“What up, Lopez!” Puck calls out to her as he sits with Brittany at their tiny dining table.

Brittany looks up too, her eyes moving from their work to Santana who lingers by the front door. There’s a small smile that begins to curl her lips and Santana finds herself returning it with her own little grin.

“Hi,” She greets as she kicks of her tennis shoes. It was meant for Puck but it seems that it’s directed at Brittany.

“Hey,” Brittany replies.

“How was practice?” Puck asks, just now lifting his head from the work before him.

“Got bumped up to flyer,” Santana says casually although it’s pretty exciting news. She comes around to the kitchen for a drink, “Erica apparently has brittle bones from what Coach says.”

“No way!” Puck cheers, “That’s so awesome!”

“What’s a flyer?” Brittany asks, looking between the two.

“The girls that do stunts in the air,” Santana answers.

“Oh,” Brittany���s brows rise. “That’s…isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“You worried about me?” Santana teases as she comes around to sit on the stool next to them. She crosses her legs, her cheer skirt hugging her thighs tightly. “Didn’t you say cheer was boring?”

Puck grins as he looks to Brittany for a rebuttal, but the blonde looks stumped.

Actually, the blonde looks distracted.

When Santana realizes that she’s staring at her legs, it’s like a personal victory for her. It was only a matter of time before the skirt wins!

Puck notices the distraction too and glances between his friends, a knowing smirk starting to form.

“Anyway,” Santana says as she finishes off her glass of water.

The sound of her voice breaks Brittany from her trance, but blue eyes are dark with something Santana’s familiar with but has yet to see on her. It makes her smirk; she’s missed having that kind of power over someone. It’s the sexual magnetism, it never fails her.

“Might hit the shower now,” Santana adds before looking to Brittany. “You going to be here much longer?”

Brittany nods, “Yeah. I only got here a little before you did.”

“Okay,” Santana can’t help the flirtatious tone now that she knows she’s got Brittany wrapped around her finger. The teasing is the most fun she’s had in awhile! “Maybe you can show me some things once you’re done with him?”

Brittany gulps, “Yeah sure.”

Puck notices what Santana’s doing and interrupts, “Uh…what’s happening right now?”

“Can it, Puckerman,” Santana waves off although her smile remains devilish. “What’s the point of having a fake girlfriend if I can’t fake flirt with them too?”

Brittany’s face goes a little red as she finally snaps back to reality.

“You call that flirting?” Brittany jokes.

“Fake flirting.”

Brittany shakes her head as she smirks, “I still don’t understand how you pick up any girls.”

“Judging by the look that’s been on your face since I walked in, I think you do.”

Puck looks back and forth between the two again like he’s watching an intense tennis match.

“How about I order a pizza for later?” He suggests in attempt to break up the bickering before it escalates.

“Sounds good,” Santana says without taking her eyes off Brittany.

“Yeah,” Brittany nods. “Sounds awesome.”

“Cool,” Puck replies and looks to Santana. “Go shower now. You’re distracting everyone.”

“She’s not distracting me,” Brittany said pointedly.  

Santana quirks her brow and smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, Britt-Britt.”

She lets her hips sway in that well-practiced way as she leaves the room. She doesn’t have to look to know that Brittany’s yet to stop staring and she struggles to hold back the laughter as she gets ready for a shower.

\\

Despite the teasing game she played earlier, Santana sits in Puck’s place at the tiny dining table across from Brittany with a scowl on her face. This studying thing? She’s had enough of it.

“This is pointless. Education is pointless. I’m gonna become a stripper instead,” Santana huffs.

“You'd probably make so much money!” Puck jokes from his place on the couch.

“Probably? Please,” Santana lifts her chin. “I'd make it rain every night!”

Puck laughs and throws his arm over the back of the couch to look at the pair.

“What do you think, Britt?” Puck presses with a smirk. “Think Santana would make it rain?”

Santana smirks too and looks to Brittany for answer.

“I think…I'm kind of hungry,” Brittany says. “How far away is the pizza?”

Santana’s smirk falls at the way Brittany deflects the question. Since Santana’s return, Brittany’s been a little quieter. Santana figured she’s just stuck in study mode and that she’d loosen up eventually, but she’s still waiting.

“I should probably head over now actually,” Puck realizes after checking his phone.

“Take me with you,” Santana jokes. “I think my brain is turning to mush.”

Brittany sighs, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You know that’s a struggle for me.”

“True,” Brittany jokes. “Hey, if we finish this chapter tonight I’ll let you use my pretty pens to take notes?”

"Tempting, but I don't need your pretty pens,” Santana says flatly. She rests back in her chair and stares at the ceiling. “What I need is alcohol and several orgasms. I clearly didn't think this fake dating thing through. I've never been so sexually deprived.”

Puck goes to grab his keys, “And on that note – I’ll be back in a few.”

Meanwhile, Brittany just snickers to herself but she isn’t laughing with Santana and it has the brunette frowning.

“What?” Santana questions as Puck leaves.

Brittany shakes her head, “It must be so hard for you to keep it in your pants for once.”

“You have no idea. Who knew that the last time would be the last time. I sure didn’t!”

Brittany shakes her head again and goes back to her work. It makes Santana feel a little on edge and straightens up in her chair.

“I'm obviously joking,” Santana adds and it makes Brittany look up. “What's it to you if I wasn't though?”

“What are you talking about?” Brittany asks.

“Your interest in my sex life.”

Brittany scoffs and looks back to her work, “I'd hardly call it an interest.”

Santana folds her arms across her chest, “So you're secretly some kind of prude?”

“It's not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Brittany sighs and looks up at her again, “Why are we even talking about this?”

Santana notices the change in her tone and perks up. She abandons her work all together in favor of leaning in.

“Because it's way more interesting?” Santana presses. “I know you're trying to deflect, you might as well just answer. If not, I'll assume the reason it gets your panties all in a twist is because you're secretly jealous.”

“I'm definitely not jealous.”

“So it’s the other option,” Santana says. “You’re a prude.”

“No!” Brittany huffs. She softens when she realizes she raised her voice. There’s a timidness to her when she explains, “I just, I guess I believe in developing the feelings part first before the physical happens.”

Santana softens too but for a different reason. It’s more so confusion than anything else.

"Why?” She asks.

“Because with feelings it's better,” Brittany says simply.

“Are you kidding?” Santana quips. “It’s better when it doesn’t involve feelings. I think it’s better when it doesn’t involve eye contact.”

“Wow. Seriously?” Brittany looks at her sympathetically. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. God, who hurt you?”

Santana didn’t expect her comment to strike a nerve. The memory of short blonde hair and a cunning smile sneaks its way past Santana’s defenses as she mutters, “One guess.”

Brittany looks at her curiously before something clicks, “Oh. The girl.”

Santana doesn’t like where this is going and pushes away the overwhelming feelings that beg to bust through. She walls herself up, holds her chin high and swallows back the lump.

“Yeah well,” Santana brushes off. “I think it's pretty unrealistic to go out there thinking every potential lay has to be relationship material first. Where's the fun in that?”

Brittany continues to eye her like she’s wounded and Santana hates it.

“The fun part is getting to know someone first so when it does happen,” Brittany pauses as she bites her lip. “It's meaningful.”

Santana averts her eyes, because staring into Brittany’s makes her feel far too exposed. Instead she retreats in on herself to place she’s comfortable, she takes the attention off of her.

“Gross. Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic,” Santana jokes.

Brittany sighs through a soft smile, “Call me old fashioned I guess.”

“Super old fashioned,” Santana quips. “Like, are you telling me you've never had a steamy quickie with a random? Everybody's got one.”

Brittany looks away and as she smirks, “Of course I have. I’m not that innocent.”

Santana perks up, “Really? Miss Goodie Two Shoes getting down and dirty without before being properly courted? God, I want details…”

Brittany snickers, “Not happening.”

“What?” Santana shifts in her seat excitedly. “Come on, what's a little girl talk between friends or are you the type that doesn’t kiss and tell because lame.”

Brittany looks up at her and smirks, “You saying we're friends?”

“Will it get you talking?”

Brittany laughs, “We should get back to work now. You've derailed us for long enough.”

“Come on, Britt-Britt,” Santana coos jokingly. “We've been at it for hours. I'm burnt out, sober and in dire need of sex.”

“None of that is my problem.”

“Sure it is,” Santana jokes. “The least you can do is tell me a couple of your kinky stories to get me through the night.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Brittany gives her a look, but Santana just bats her eyelashes. It makes Brittany laugh and she softens once again.

“Actually, I might be able to help you out.”

Santana sits straighter, “It was only a matter of time…”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “Get over yourself. Not every girl on campus wants you, including me.”

Santana laughs, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Britt-Britt.”

“Anyway,” Brittany continues, “I'm talking about a swanky party – a ball even.”

“A ball, you say?” Santana’s interest is piqued.

“Totally.”

“You've got my attention…”

“Well, there’s going to be an open bar, free food, an excuse to dress up and let loose. That ticks off two out of three on your list.”

Santana quirks a brow, “And the catch?”

“No catch.”

“There's gotta be a catch.”

“Okay fine,” Brittany slumps. “It's the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

“The what?” Santana deadpans.

“The Brainiacs’ Ball,” Brittany clarifies. “It's open to all the academic decathlon clubs across the city, this year we’re hosting. The team with the highest winning percentage is named and also the award for Most Brilliant Brainiac is given out. It's the biggest night for the club.”

“Oh, hell no,” Santana chuckles. “There’s not enough free alcohol in the world to get me to go to that. Count me out.”

Brittany starts to frown, “What? Why?”

Santana shakes her head, “One of your matches was enough. I'm not going to a party where I have to be surrounded by all of you at once.”

“It won't be that bad,” Brittany sighs. “It's a night for celebrating. No trivia unless you count the bad puns you might hear.”

“I've seen the guys on your team,” Santana explains. “I can't be liable for the feelings I'd definitely hurt if I were to be around them. I’d be triggered by pocket protector.”

“But you'll mostly be with me,” Brittany tries.

“That doesn’t really help your case.”

Brittany gives her a look, “Well, I kind of need you to go.”

“You need me to go?”

“Well yeah, I don't want to be the only one there without a date,” Brittany reasons. “Plus wouldn't it be suspicious if you didn't go considering we're a thing?”

Santana lets out a laugh, thinking that she’s finally caught on.

“So that it explains it,” She says.

“Explains what?”

“The coffee the other day, sharing study tips, being here,” Santana goes on, “You’ve been setting yourself up to ask me to your dumb ball.”

Brittany tenses, “'First of all, it's not dumb.”

“Sorry. I should've said nerdy,” Santana clarifies.

“I wasn’t doing those things for this,” Brittany tells her. “I was… I did them to be nice. We don’t always have to be at each other. It doesn’t always have to be a competition.”

Santana shakes her head as she gets to thinking. She knows Brittany’s cunning too, she knows that she can play games so who’s to say she wasn’t playing this time?

“I'm not going,” Santana replies. “You can tell people I'm sick or something.”

Brittany lets out a bitter laugh, “Right. So this relationship thing only works when it's in your favor?”

Santana frowns at the harshness of Brittany’s tone, something that doesn’t feel right coming from the blonde.

“What are you talking about?” Santana huffs. “That’s not – “

“We always do what you want,” Brittany interrupts. “Whatever makes you look good but this one time I ask you for something and it's just a flat out no?”

Brittany’s face has gone a little red and Santana’s further surprised – she didn’t think it was this big of a deal. She doesn’t grasp why Brittany’s so worked up all of sudden. Why would she want someone there with her if they didn’t want to be there in the first place?

“Look, it's better if I don't go because if one dork in clunky black glasses wearing suspenders and a hideous bowtie crosses paths with me I won't be able to contain myself,” Santana argues. “I'll end up hurting someone's feelings and you said it yourself, it's a night for celebration.”

Brittany looks at her like she’s hit a new low. Hell, maybe she just did.

“You're unbelievable,” Brittany huffs as she stands and starts gathering her things.

“What?” Santana watches her with a sudden ache in her chest. “You’re leaving?”

“Clearly,” Brittany mutters. “I can’t be around you right now.”

“All because I don’t want to go?”

Brittany shakes her head, another bitter laugh escaping her.

“No,” She says gravely. “It’s because you’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met.”

Santana tenses at the way her words drip with disdain, but at the same time it puts her on the defense.

“Well sorry that I’m not like you,” Santana argues. “Sorry I can’t just slip into character with ease and be your perfect fake girlfriend whenever you want. Sorry I’m not on all the time like you are.”

Brittany just stares at her for a moment, studying Santana’s face before she speaks again.

“Just when I think I’ve figured you out,” Brittany continues. “Just when I think you’re actually a half-decent person and that maybe beneath this prickly exterior of yours, there’s actually something – someone – deserving of…of a friend you go and prove to me that I’m wrong.”

Santana slumps back in her chair, dejected and defeated.  

Even if Brittany didn’t physical hit her, those words sure did. She can’t even speak as she watches Brittany gather the last of her things and storm out. What’s worse is that she swears she sees blue eyes tinging red just before she turns away.

Santana slaps her hand at the table when the door slams shut behind Brittany. She instantly feels the sting of wood on her open palm.

Why? Why does she always have to screw things up like this?

\\

Puck comes through the door just a minute later, looking confused as well.

“So I just passed Britt in the hall,” He says hesitantly.

“Yeah, she left.”

Puck slowly closes the door behind him, “Why?”

“Because,” Santana lets out a long puff of air. She feels the lump forming again in her throat, strange and unwelcome. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“Dude,” His face falls. “Please tell me you didn’t try to make a move on her. The games earlier were cute and all but – “

“No,” Santana quickly answers. “I didn’t do that.”

“Then what happened?” Puck asks. “She looked really upset.”

Santana presses her lips tightly together, she’s almost ashamed to admit the truth.

“She wanted me to go to some ball with her,” Santana says dismissively. “I told her no.”

“You told her no?” Puck quirks a brow.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Puck frowns. “After all the stuff she’s done for you, you can’t?”

“Look, I can see where I fucked up okay?” Santana snaps. “I don’t need you adding to it.”

Puck shakes his head as he backs off. “You really are an idiot.”

Santana agrees but she doesn’t tell him that.

“You know it’s not a good idea,” Santana tries convincing him. “It’ll be nothing but those academic decathlon nerds and not just the ones from Brittany’s team. It’ll be like ten times that! They’ll be from all over the city and you know how I am around the general public especially when I’m provoked. I could screw up and expose us both. It’s too risky.”

Puck doesn’t say anything, just listens to her excuses.

“I can’t do it,” Santana tells him with finality. “I can’t. Brittany might be pissed at me right now, but she’ll see it’s for the best. I’d just ruin her night because I don’t know how to act anyway. She’ll come around, she has to.”

“Sure Santana,” Puck dismisses and goes to flip open the pizza box. “So…does this mean I can have her pizza too?”

Santana just shakes her head, “Shut up.”

[shysneeze]

missed smiles (draco malfoy x reader)

missed smiles (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

request: could you do a Draco imagine where the reader gets injured somehow (like falls down the stairs) after a fight (angst) and then he gets all protective (fluff)? tysm!

Warnings: kind hints towards depression but it’s minor.  half blood prince level draco angst because I'm in one of those moods mentions of war,  family pressures etc, fighting and injury. 

Authors note: I skimped so hard on the fluff this is basically just angst pls forgive me. 

..

The late November snow crunches aggressively underfoot as (Y/N) storms back towards the castle, Draco's footsteps echoing her own not far behind her as he calls after her. She lets out a harsh breath, not daring to look back in case her anger slips into something else and the tightness in her throat gives way to the sob she's been holding back.

"(Y/N), please." He pleads. "Let me explain."

She comes to a stop, breath shaking as it leaves her lips and forming wispy streams of condensation as it meets the cool air. She knows she needs to turn around, but she can't look at him right now, she can't look at him without seeing it again on his arm, the inky mark of the wizarding world's dark past and looming future.

It was revealed after what was a perfect date. She was so happy to see him smiling, that grin that was becoming so rare these days, she was sure it was the start of better things for this school year. Then she saw it, seeping through a wet patch on his shirt when he peeled off his coat to layer on top of her own due to the aftermath of an impromptu snowball fight. Ominous and taunting, the dark mark stared back at her.

Now, she finds herself turning slowly to face him, glad momentarily to find he's covered the incriminating tattoo, that she can't see it directly, with all its cruel implications. However, the knowledge of it has engraved itself in the centre of her thoughts, torturous and vile.

"How do you even begin to explain that, Draco?" She demands through gritted teeth. "How?"

He gulps under her harsh look despite knowing it's a quickly crumbling façade, watching her bottom lip tremble and her eyes well with reluctant tears. Words tumble out so quickly he's not even sure they make sense, a panicked onslaught of barely coherent apologies as he steps closer.

"No, Draco." She whimpers, stepping back. "No."

Her eyes clench shut and forces the escape of reluctant tears that she lifts her shaking hand to hide. The logical bit of her, the bit that tells her he doesn't want this, that knows him well enough to know his hand must have been forced in the matter, is hidden behind the bitterly betrayed part of her conscience.

"I can't do this right now." She exhales shakily.

His jaw slackens in defeat, explanations left hanging on the tip of his tongue while he watches her leave, ascending the steps to the castle. The weight of it all settles once again on his chest as it has all year, heavy on his lungs until he's forced to breathe manually under the pressure. He watches her go, convinced that's it, that his one perfect thing is gone for good.

His eyes cast downwards with shame and he's about to turn to walk away himself, to find somewhere to think everything through when he hears her yelp. He's too late in turning to help, instead staring wide-eyed and her crumbled figure at the bottom of the icy steps.

"(Y/N)!"

.

(Y/N) groans softly as she struggles to open her eyes, frown fixing itself on her face at the her unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't register herself as being in the hospital wing until she hears the gentle tut of Madam Pomfrey from the foot of her bed.

"Miss (Y/L/N)." She greets. "Finally awake I see."

"Finally?"

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, forcing her to wonder just how long she's been out for. Madam Pomfrey gives her an understanding look and gives her a sympathetic smile. The older woman steps around her bed to (Y/N)'s side and gently pushes her into an upright position in order to manoeuvre the pillows in her aid.

"You had quite a tumble down the stairs, my dear." She informs. "Quite the concussion I'm afraid, so don't worry if it takes a moment to remember- I'm sure Mr Malfoy will be able to help once he wakes up too."

The nurse gesture with a slight smirk towards the head of blonde hair resting face down on the edge of the mattress, just by (Y/N)'s legs. The sight of him is enough to have the memories flooding back, heart aching at the memory.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few." Madam Pomfrey informs.

"Thanks." (Y/N) gulps.

Once the older woman is gone, footsteps placing her well in the distance, (Y/N) turns back to the sleeping boy by her side. He looks small here, curled by her side, so sweet it's hard to believe what he's hiding underneath his cool façade and long sleeves. She finds herself reaching a hand out tiredly for his hair, curling her fingers in it gently and watching him stir.

He wakes as groggily as she did, with the same confused frown. Then, eyes meeting hers, they widen and a sigh of sheer relief escapes his lips. He looks exhausted, with ashy grey circles hanging under his eyes, although she's sure they've been like that for months now.

"Thank goodness you're awake, (Y/N)." He exhales. "God, I was so worried."

"How long?"

"About a day." He informs. "You hit you're head really hard-"

"Not that." She corrects in a whisper. "How long have you had t-the mark?"

The light brought to his face from her recovery dies at the question, eyes dropping instantly. She almost feels bad, but she needs to know, she needs to understand this all before she can allow herself to look at him the same.

"The summer." He admits. "Just before the start of term."

She inhales loudly, sharply as she take it in. She pulls her hand back from where he'd clutched it in relief when he first woke. The betrayal bites bitterly at her heart and tugs her brows into a disbelieving frown.

"I know." He whispers.  

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs aloud, causing him to shift guiltily. The logical part of her is back, reminding her that she knows him, knows this is not something he would do if given the option not to.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her words throw him off and he stares at her in disbelief. Where he expects the furrowed brows of an angry glare, he finds her expression full of concern. His confusion over her reaction manifest itself as a frown.

"I'm a- a deatheater, (Y/N)."

His voice is hushed, cautious of the fact only the thin layer of the curtain around her bed shields them from the rest of the hospital wing, from listening ears. She lets out a sigh, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head in response.

"No you're not." She sighs, an almost desperate edge to her voice, as if she's trying to convince herself. "You're not, Draco."

"I took the mark, (Y/N)." He corrects. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way you wanted this." She argues. "This has your father written all over it. I know this isn't you-"

"How do you always do that?"

She can see him trying to keep himself together, fists clenched so tightly they shake and his eyes brimming with tears he's begging to stay put. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning away from her to hide how his mask is crumbling, how he's so quickly beginning to come undone.

"What?"

"What do you see that no one else does?"

His voice cracks. Red rimmed eyes meet (Y/N)'s, so full of raw emotion that she finds herself letting out the smallest of sniffles as her fingers reach out for his closed fists, loosening them enough to grasp his hand in hers.

"I see my boyfriend frowning more than he smiles." She begins, voice trembling. "I see him losing all motivation for his hobbies, I see him sneaking off when he thinks I'm not looking and telling me he's fine when he's not."

She squeezes his hand, begging him to understand, to understand that she's worried, she so worried for him that it hurts. She worried when his smile didn't meet his eyes on the train, and when he asked to stay curled together in his dorm room the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when they would usually go to Honeydukes together. She’s worried all year.

"I was so relieved yesterday to see you smile." She continues. "I miss your smiles so much, Draco."

He lets out an inaudible apology, fixing his tear filled eyes on their joined hands, gasping under the pressure to keep himself together. It's like she's pulled out the last thread, the one that was keeping him in one piece and as if any sudden movement will rip him apart now.

"I know you're a good person." She concludes. "I know you don't want this."

"I don't." He admits through a raspy, quiet sob. "I don't want this but I had to- I had to for my family."

"Your dad?" She asks sadly.

"Father made a mistake, but it's H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who chose me, to amend my family's names in his eyes." He shakes his head. "It was the only decision that could be made."

"Draco..."

"You know what he did to Cedric Diggory." He explains. "I have to do this to keep us safe."

"You're just a kid, Draco." (Y/N) whimpers. "We're just kid and this isn't supposed to be our battle... I'm so sorry that it's ended up yours"

"Don't apologise to me." He pleads. "Don't., (Y/N)"

"Someone needs to, Draco." She argue. "This isn't fair on you."

Her voice finally cracks and tears rolls down her cheeks. She sighs in frustration when he looks up in concern. She's supposed to the pillar of support right now, hospital bed or not. The tears plough downward regardless though.

"Don't upset yourself." He begs.

"I'm angry, Draco!" She exclaims. "No at you- at this whole thing."

"(Y/N) please, you shouldn't stress yourself after the fall." He gulps. "You'll still have a concussion."

She's almost forgotten where they are, and why they're here in the first place. She lifts her free hand to the newly thumping pain in her head and grimaces. He shuffles closer, lifting a hand to tilt her head for inspection when she swats it away.

"No, I'm the patient so you have to listen to me."

She gives him a stubborn frown that has him sinking back like a scolded child to listen to her. She extends her bandaged arm out and pokes a finger against his chest sternly, his eyes widening at the serious look in her watery eyes.

"We're going to fix this." She states firmly. "We're going to fix this together and you and your family are going to be safe again."

"H-how?"

"I don't know but we will."

She drops her hand to find his once again, squeezing his fingers with a sigh. He stares at her in silence for so long she's worried he's angry, but then his lips twitch into the slightest of smiles and a breathless chuckles falls from his lips.

"Thought I was supposed to be looking after you." He explains softly.

"I only fell, Draco." She assures. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N), you have no idea how terrifying it was so see you on the ground like that." He shakes his head. "Not moving, not waking up, and all I could think was I drove you away and you hurt yourself."

"Draco..." She sighs. "I was surprised, I didn't know what to do when I saw that thing on your arm and  ran when I shouldn't have."

"This isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

He lets out another laugh behind a poorly disguised sob, shaking his head again in surprise, perplexed again by her reactions. Always seeing the good in him, even when everyone is convinced it's not, when he himself has lost hold of it.

"I love you." He exhales.

"I love you too." She smiles sadly. "We're going to work this out, I promise."

He lift's the linked hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles gently. He believes her, something in his heart clinging to the assurance in her voice and the hope in her eyes. She's pulled that last thread, allowed him to fall apart at the seams in order to sew him back together again, gently and patiently, starting with the first stitch.

"I'm going to see that smile again."

.

Authors notes: like to think madam pomfrey is just sat outside the curtains like  👁👄👁 

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 34)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 6k (I know I shouldn’t say sorry but...sorry 🥺)

Warnings: The usual, passing mentions of (past) sexual assault

A/N: This basically has no Ivar, for obvious reasons, so I know it is long but I didn’t want to leave you guys with two weeks before the story moves forward Ivar-wise. Sorry for the long chapter, and sorry if this isn’t very much to your liking, I tried lol.

Again with me and animals and references to deities: howling dogs are symbols of Melinöe, Greek Goddess of madness, nightmares, and ghosts; though there’s a duality to be associated with her, that for the sake of this story I took to her influence being both of nightmares and dreams, of madness and comfort; because she is represented in Freydis (or I attempt that) and she isn’t just a bitch, y’know? Melinöe is also considered a daughter of Persephone but in some stuff she is put together with her as one and referred to as a nymph and queen too.

You don’t think you’ve been able to lower your eyes from the skies since that day. Almost two weeks have gone by, and you start thinking maybe you imagined her voice behind you, imagined a ghost whispering somehow they had survived.

Sitting carefully on the ground, batting away the hand that Galla extends to try and help you, you start, “You know Lysander wants to make you his.”

She doesn’t miss a beat when she replies casually, “He has already.”

Galla only snorts at your scandalized expression.

“I mean make you his wife.” You explain with a shake of your head, returning your gaze ahead.

“I won’t leave you behind.”

“You would be the wife of the most powerful man in free Greece.”

“Or I could be the second in command of the most powerful woman in free Greece,” She retorts just as easily. After a moment, Galla sighs, “The Gods brought us together as children, my friend. Time couldn’t separate us, nor distance.

She lifts her hand to touch the side of your waist, where the bandages still press at the burnt skin.

“Not even death could separate us,” She vows, before offering a smile and turning back ahead, “Your Fate and mine are intertwined.”

And now here you sit, on a familiar clearing somewhere near Kattegat’s coast, watching the sun rise and not knowing how to decide between looking at the sea waiting for those ships to return or at the sky waiting for the falcon to guide you.

You hear soft footsteps behind you, but you do not turn to watch Freydis approach. The heavy winds blow at your hair, your gaze focused on the sea that accompanies the winds in their chaos.

“What are you doing here?”

“I want you to know I am sorry.” Freydis whispers from behind you, the pain that forces her voice to break making your eyes fall closed as if you can keep the compassion away by guarding back tears.

You offer her a nod and, as always, she understands your silent words, sitting beside you on the cold grass. Almost shoulder to shoulder but not quite.

Saying you forgive her would hurt your pride, saying there’s nothing to be sorry for would be a lie.

“You betrayed me.” Is what you state, a reminder both for her and you.

Freydis nods her head, not hesitating.

“I did.”

You smile, but it is watery and broken and weak.

“I should kill you.”

A few beats of silence, and…

“You should.”

“But I won’t,” You confess, angry at yourself, smiling at your own weakness, “Too soft a heart.”

“It isn’t a fault.”

“Isn’t it?” You quip bitterly.

Freydis sighs, “You are warm, and good, and soft. Don’t…don’t let this place change that, harden you more than it already has.”

“I have no reason to heed your advice now, Freydis.”

“Yet you do anyways.”

You consider her words in silence, accompanied only by the distant sound of a busy world at your backs and the waves breaking at the coast in front of you.

“I-…once you and I would have been one and the same,” Your arms wrap around your legs, bringing your knees closer to your chest, like you can keep the cold hand of regret from gripping your heart if you hold yourself tight enough. “Back in my city, in my kingdom…I did all you ask out of me now. I fooled a man into loving me, into believing everything I told him. I could have told him he was a God, and he would have walked this earth as if he were one. It is a terrible thing, what love can do to us,” Your last words fall from your lips in a breath that could be a sob, but with your lips pressed tightly into a line you breathe deeply and continue, “I did to him all I know I could do now. I laid with him, I held and kissed him, I whispered promises in his ear, I gave him my hand, I…I told him I loved him.”

Freydis says nothing for a few moments, but then her voice, rougher than usual, not so carefully feminine, not so mechanically dainty, asks, “What happened to him?”

You offer her a shrug, “He died. For his arrogance, for my hesitation, for…our mistakes,” Resting your chin on your knees, you keep your gaze on the horizon and explain, “He was my friend, I knew him since we were children and when I returned to Attica he was…”

She offers her strength when your words die, “In power.”

“I knew he wanted me. We women always do, don’t we?” A small chuckle, you don’t know from whose lips, “A-And I used it against him, I…hardened my heart and I pretended to want him too, to love him too.”

“In exchange for what?”

“His strength, his army. When the Byzantines sent their Christians to…convert us, he and his men fought for our frontiers, cut down their numbers.” You answer automatically, and past the pain there’s pride making your voice unwavering.

“Nothing, compared to what you could get now.”

“And yet I don’t want it, not like this. Not this time.” You vow, jaw set tight and eyes certain when they find her own. Freydis offers only a nod to signal she accepts your choice -or pretends to-, and silence reigns for a while between you.

It feels comfortable, familiar, even if you know it shouldn’t.

“Does Ivar know of that man?”

“Of course he does,” You reply instantly, turning to her with the beginning of a cruel smile on your lips, “Surely you don’t think I trust you more than I trust him.”

She returns the same kind of smile, “Once, you did.”

“And look where that trust has left me.”

She scoffs, “You speak as if trusting him was any better. After all he did to you.”

“Freydis…” You warn, and the blond shrugs, looking ahead with stubborn determination.

“Not a smart thing, I know.” She acquiesces anyways, remembering your words from the last time you talked.

She stays silent, reminding you starkly of that night where she found you pleading with Gods that didn’t answer to explain why your Fate had to be so, reminding you of how she sat next to you in silence, hesitant at how to be honest, true, soft.

But yet she remains at your side. A prisoner awaiting judgement, or a snake awaiting the chance to strike, you do not know.

“Why did you do it? Why tell him of that merchant?”

“I wanted to…understand. I wanted answers. To whether you’d leave if given the chance, to whether he’d believe you would.”

“That’s…”

“Cruel?” She finishes for you, before offering another shrug. “Maybe. He has done worse. You have done worse.”

She has a point.

“Why…why make him believe I see a monster when I look at him?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” You reply, maybe more forcefully than you should have, but you’re frankly tired of games.

“Because it is what he already believed,” She answers simply, as if the answer is clear for everyone to see. “You know the man you married; he needs certainty. He held on to the certainty that you’d leave him, and I had no interest in seeing him believe otherwise.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know if the case is other,” Freydis shrugs, and turns to you, “Is it true? Do you love him?”

Your mouth curves into a half-smile, “You expect me to trust you with a secret now?”

Freydis falters, and loses a bit of her edge, a bit of her unwavering resolve.

You think Ivar isn’t the only one that needs certainty, but you keep your mouth shut.

She offers a sigh as she turns to face the horizon, “It isn’t a secret.”

You leave her behind on that hill overlooking the sea, hearing the faint sound of dogs howling in the distance, and it feels like you leave behind a part of you.

____

Days pass, and the dreams don’t cease, and you wake up still hearing hissing snakes and howling dogs and…Gods, you might lose your mind soon.

You could tell yourself it is the dreams, the messages from the Gods, what makes you sit down in front of her in the apothecary, a mortar in your hands. You could tell yourself it is morbid curiosity, the desire to hear how she has betrayed you once again, what makes your movements so alike hers that first time when she sat before you and offered you a smile.

You could tell yourself many things, but we don’t change the truth by spinning a different tale.

Freydis doesn’t lift her gaze, but you notice her take a deep breath as you start grinding the herbs across from her.

“You vowed once that I would regret it if I ever betrayed you,” She states, and her dainty voice wavers. Freydis closes her eyes, “Well, I regret it. I…you have no idea how much I regret what I did.”

“I don’t care about regret, Freydis.”

Her expression falters, and you could swear there’s tears shining in her blue eyes. Her lip trembles, and…Gods, this is the first time you have seen her without a mask on, isn’t it?

“I-I love you,” She offers. An excuse, a plea, an accusation. “I…I…”

“What you did, you did out of love?” You ask, spitting back the words she said when the bodies of those merchants were still fresh. When you were surrounded by the evidence of Ivar’s cruelty and the results of her games.

“I did.” She promises, voice frail and small.

You look into her eyes, and ponder on the weight of such a small word.

“Narses tried silencing me, pushed me to be meek and obedient. He called it love, I stayed quiet and pretended that was what love was,” You tell her, voice quiet, “My mother left me without any explanation, handed my freedom to a man I didn’t know. I’m sure she called it love, but she isn’t here for me to tell her it felt like…abandonment.

Your gaze lowers to your hands, and it is both to you and to her that you admit the truth as the words leave your lips,

“Ivar put chains on me and dragged me all the way to his kingdom, forced me to be his wife. If you were to have asked him then, he would have called it love, though now both of us would admit that it was something else.

She answers with silence, and it unsettles you, but you don’t loosen the straight line of your spine, you don’t lose the hardened edge in your eyes as you lift them back up to meet Freydis’.

“You played games with me as a pawn, you were responsible for the death of innocents, you hurt me,” You bite back the anger, but it still resonates in your voice as it raises, “You toyed with Ivar’s head, you caused him pain. And you called it love,” You spit out the last words, but Freydis holds her ground, not hesitating in holding your gaze, “That isn’t love, Freydis. Betrayal isn’t love.

A barely-there flinch, but you notice it. And a part of you that you shouldn’t allow to be is cruelly delighted in hurting her.

“Trusting someone, trusting them enough to fulfill their promises, trusting them enough to be honest, that I do call love.”

She lifts her chin, and insists, although there isn’t accusation in her tone when she speaks.

“You trusted me, once.”

“I did. Because I loved you, and I love you still,” And there it is where your resolve falters, at the admission of why it hurts the way it does, why it stings and tears and breaks. Your smile is hopeless and it trembles on your lips, “You were the first kind face I saw here, you were-…you are someone that makes me feel…safe.”

“You make me feel safe too,” She confesses, before frowning and lowering her gaze. “You make everything complicated. Everything stops making sense and I…I shouldn’t have done what I did. I…would you believe me if I told you I am jealous of him?”

And for a moment the smell of mint overpowers anything else. You shake your head, dispelling the scent and any other thoughts.

You watch carefully as Ivar extends curious fingers to one of the newer plants you brought in. He plucks a leaf without any consideration, but you hold your tongue and watch him bring it to his nose.

“Mint,” You tell him without prompting, “Mint was a nymph, once. Did I ever tell you of why Hiereiai don’t take their marriage vows lightly?”

His lips pull into a slow smile as his eyes turn to you, and he shakes his head.

“Well, the God and Goddess of the Underworld are, in their own way, symbols of loyalty, and fidelity. They never stray, they never betray one another.

You cross the distance between you and take a seat next to Ivar on the cushioned lounge, watching with a small smile as he continues to twirl the small leaf of mint between his fingers.

“Of course, there are those who try testing that. The tale goes that there was a nymph that used to stride through the fields of flowers with the maiden my Goddess once was. This nymph, a beautiful and alluring woman, was...fascinating enough that Lord Hades desired her, and made her his, long before he set eyes on who then would be his wife.

You settle better on your place as you recall the old story, a story you have known and cherished for so long that, like so many others, it feels like a part of your own story by now.

“But when he abducted my Goddess and made her Queen, the nymph was forgotten, discarded. Nothing in the eyes of the God of the Dead compared to his wife, you see,” You share a smile with your husband, a smile that makes your heart quicken its beat in your chest, and continue, “Still, the nymph boasted that the new Queen of the Underworld was no match to her beauty, to her wit. And so, it is said that in that field where Hades first saw his wife, Minthe would wait, trying to seduce the God back to her side.”

“Did she succeed?”

You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “Some say Hades was enraged at the mere thought of failing his promise to his wife, and witness to such poor mimicry of the Goddess he loved, he struck Minthe there, turned her into a pitiful plant,” Ivar discards the small leaf and bends down to reach for your legs, making you rest them across his lap. You settle better, grateful for the relief from the cold, and trying not to tremble like some foolish maiden at the rhythmic caress of rough hands up and down your calves, you continue, “Others say it was my Goddess, and not her husband, the one that answered the call, and that she punished Minthe for the offense of trying to take what is hers. And so mint is untoched by each passing spring not as a mercy, but as an act of cruelty by the Goddess that scorns her.”

“Maybe the nymph was after your Godess, though. Maybe it was Kore she wanted the love of, and she scorned Hades for taking her from her,” He offers, and you startle, leaning back. Still, you are unable to keep the smile that curves at your lips. Ivar shrugs, and his smile is a little darker when he continues, “Your Mistress turned a God into a thief, you think she couldn’t turn a nymph into something else too?”

Your chest feels tight, because you do have a soft heart, and a part of you never stopped being the foolish girl that used to whisper to the plants she kept with her in the Silk Roads that if they fought and grew she would protect them and keep them alive.

Voice soft and low, you promise, “You won’t ever lose me because of Ivar,” But because you cannot help it, because a part of you never stopped being the woman that prided herself in killing and dying to protect those she loved, you add, “The same way Ivar won’t ever lose me because of you.”

Freydis focuses on her work, and for a while you remain in silence, for so long you start thinking she won’t speak again.

But she does, more than a bit of anger -though not at you- in her tone when she states,

“You don’t know what it is like, being alone. I have been at the hands of the worst of men, I have been beaten, starved, raped, humiliated,” And the woman that could be a nightmare to any man raises her chin, coldness in her eyes and strength in the straight line of her spine. You hide your pride and pain, both for her, and remain silent. Freydis smiles brokenly to herself, tears finally falling down her face, “I know fear, and I know pain, I have known them for a long time. And yet, the worst thing in this world is not being broken, defiled, or in chains,” A deep breath, some of the strength wavers, “The worst thing is, in such a wide world, being...alone.”

A small smile curves at your lips when you think that Freydis was the first person to treat you like…well, a person, aside from Ivar. She didn’t see a witch, a woman here to fool their King, a Saxon spy, a foreigner.

She saw you, more clearly than you would have thought then, you realize now; but she saw you, and she was friendly, and kind, and just honest enough.

She stands before you in the dark, in the whirlwind of chaos that Ivar and Fate have brought to your life. She sees your tears, and there’s rage in her blue eyes.

Still, she offers honesty, she offers relief, she offers a stretched hand, “You aren’t alone.”

She never left you alone.

“I…guess I have been fortunate. I have always had people at my side.” You whisper quietly, but you don’t think she hears the silent gratitude in your voice.

“More fortunate than you know, witch,” She agrees, nodding to herself. She turns her body to you, facing you directly and fiercely, even if regret swims in those blue eyes, “I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want you to be alone either. I am sorry, for what I did, for what I...do.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Freydis. It is done,” You interrupt, pressing your lips into a line and hoping this is not a mistake when you offer, “What matters is what you choose now.”

The blonde shrugs, a small, apologetic and broken smile on her lips, “I…love you. I want to be someone you can trust, I want…I want to deserve your trust.”

Stupidly, naively maybe, you believe her. So, you agree with a nod of your head, and return your gaze to the dried herbs you’re working on, “Alright, then it shall be so.”

“I…I, uh, I don’t-…”

“I love you, Freydis.” You whisper, stealing a glance to her wide eyes and when your gaze meets hers you hope she knows you are honest.

The girl’s lip trembles for a moment before she returns her gaze ahead, and she lifts her chin, proud and refusing to admit the weakness of emotion. You stifle a small pleased smile when you see her, and it is only the question that leaves her lips next that keeps you from embracing her.

“So, are you planning on staying?”

If Stithulf were to die today…

“That’s…not a question I want to answer.” You offer nervously, mouth suddenly dry and heart skipping a few beats.

“You feel you must return to Greece. Your home calls to you.”

Yoi shake your head, “I don’t know where my home is. But…I have a legacy to uphold. My mother and father died for my freedom, I cannot turn my back on their sacrifice for…”

“Love?” She supplies when you quieten, startling you both with her implication and her certainty when she continues, “You put your duty before love once, and you still shed tears for it. Do you want to do it again?”

No.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of useless and jumbled thoughts, and close your eyes against the torrent of emotions and fears and hopes. You reach for a batch of dried Feverfew and Chamomile, and offer her half so she starts working.

“We must now just…hope the winter is kind to us. And when spring comes…we will see.”

If your voice is ragged, if your eyes shine, she does not mention it, instead taking the herbs and lowering her gaze.

After a while of comfortable silence, the blonde asks,

“What does spring mean to you?”

“Change,” You reply easily, although it never is. “Whether we want it or not.”

“To us it means war. They go raiding again, they go kill and die again, when spring comes.

The day goes by, and you two sit there, shoulder to shoulder, Varangian to Greek, woman to woman, surrounded by the one place where you can feel warm while Ivar is gone.

A call of your name interrupts the easy nothingness of your mind, and you turn your attention to Freydis as she offers you her hand, stretched between you like who seals a deal.

“Wherever your Gods or mine take you, I shall be at your side,” She promises, her smile a little hungry and a little happy. “I swear it.”

Your eyes go to her outstretched hand, and for some reason it reminds you of the fists over the hearts of thousands of Attics, vowing loyalty to an Anassa you don’t know if you can be.

“I don’t need a slave, Freydis,” You say cautiously, lifting your gaze to her certain and unwavering blue eyes. “I need a friend.”

“I’ll learn,” She promises, fierce, a small smile on her lips that speaks of a woman that wants to swallow the world. You return it, even if guardedly, and grab tightly at her forearm as she does the same. “You have my word.”

____

You don’t know how long it has been, where you’ve stood there like who has seen a ghost, watching the falcon circling the longhouse.

Zephyr.

It is close to dusk, too close for any wild animal to be hunting. You know it is him, you know it like you know winter approaches fast.

You step out from the longhouse, your feet trailing after nothing, your eyes on the horizon, on the trees beyond the walls, where you know a ghost awaits.

Zephyr, loyal beast that he always was, lands on a nearby roof with a screech, as if finally content that you’ve heard his call.

You watch him take off again, go far past the walls, and try to think of a way out of Kattegat.

____

There’s a prayer being whispered past your lips, where you plead this isn’t the choice that dooms you.

You loom over Freydis’ sleeping form and reach a quiet hand to press over her mouth. Her blue eyes open, startled, but you shush her with a gesture. She relaxes soon enough, and you cautiously remove your hand from her mouth. The blonde girl sits up, a thousand questions written in her eyes that you promise you’ll answer once she comes outside with you.

She does, and the darkness of the city feels suffocating when you turn to her.

“You once told me a slave, better than anyone, knows of the ways out of a kingdom.” You whisper.

A few moments of silence, of baited breath, where you almost consider she will scream for the guards, sell your secrets to whoever will listen for a pat in the back. But she finally presses her lips together, and gives you a firm nod.

She guides you in the comfort of darkness to a path you did not know of, and with expertise she predicts the marching feet of the guards, motioning for you to move.

“You don’t have much time. If you don’t return before the sun rises…”

“I will return.” You promise, eyes already set on the path she pointed to.

You follow the impatient cries of a falcon through misty woods, catching your stumbling steps by grabbing into the branches and the trunks of trees. Night usually feels suffocating, but the promise of reunion and the hope beating in your chest keep you from feeling anything but anticipation.

A whisper of your name, and your eyes, already used mildly to the complete darkness, catch the slim figure waiting by one of the trees.

“Galla!” You exclaim, thinking too late of keeping your voice low. In no time you are embracing her and she you, hushed relieved laughs escaping your lips.

She’s real, and solid, and warm under your hands. She’s alive.

“I’ve missed you. I thought the worse, when we lost sight of you in Dublin.”

You shake your head, a watery laugh making its way past your lips.

“I was told you were all dead,” You shut your eyes tight, angry at your own foolishness, “I should have known better than to trust that Christian’s word.”

“We lost about a third of our people, seven hundred or so, those too weak to run or fight. And less than a hundred are either with Stithulf or elsewhere,” She whispers grimly, “But we are faring well, we scavenged and stole what we needed. We will set up, but far from here, lest we are seen as a threat while Kattegat’s King is away.”

A part of you wants to find a way to let Kattegat give them the support they need, but…but if you were planning on letting Ivar know the Greeks live, you wouldn’t have snuck out in the middle of the night.

You swallow thickly, and ask,

“Have you heard from Sieghild? Have they…found Narses?”

She shakes her head sadly, “Nothing but rumors about your mother. And Narses…he is probably buried in a Christian grave.”

With your eyes on hers, with trembling hands, with a hope you haven’t dared voice making the words that come out of your lips hoarse, you whisper, “Maybe h-…”

Galla interrupts you with another shake of her head, “I saw how the Varangians took him down. That he reached you before collapsing was a last mercy from Ares.”

You told Narses on the eve of the last battle he fought that if he insisted on holding against the onslaught of Ivar the Boneless’ forces, that if he sacrificed your people for a Christian’s dream of revenge; and dared survive, you would kill him yourself. But nor the vitriol of your last encounter or the resentment that grew in your last months together can keep you from sobbing his name when the reality of him not existing anymore settles in your chest.

There’s a finality to having someone that knew him, that saw the warmth in his eyes and heard his voice and his laugh, tell you he is gone.

“That fool.” You croak out, furrowing your brow as useless tears fall down your face.

“I’m sorry.” Galla whispers, but you shake your head. The dead don’t need your tears, they are in a better place. Or so you were told.

“Let’s pray the Mistress is merciful when she greets him,” You offer in response after a few minutes of silence, before resting your shoulder against a tree and asking, “How did you know I was in Kattegat?”

“Word of a Greek witch becoming wife to a famous Viking runs fast,” She offers, the word that the Norsemen have for their people still strange in her tongue. With a smile, Galla continues, “Wife and Queen. Only you would be stupidly brave enough to survive Ivar the Boneless.”

“I’m going to ignore the ‘stupid’ part.” You tease softly, still smiling at a ghost.

She chuckles, and continues, “I have been getting closer and closer to this place for weeks now.”

Your brow furrows, and you cannot keep yourself from asking, “And you deemed it safe? You somehow knew I was going to be able to cross the walls.”

“You are free here, freer than...than you have been in a long time, I think. I don’t know the King, but I’ve heard how his wife seems sent by the Gods, both for his sake and his home’s. And I do know you, and I know you wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes you made with Narses.”

You swallow past a knot in your throat, “What are you saying?”

“There’s no man in this world that could force a ring on your hand,” She states dryly, not an edge of hesitation in her voice. “Was your mother right, after all?”

“My mother?”

“That it would take a Viking man to tame a daughter of hers.”

She betrays a smile, and you let go of a tension you didn’t know you were holding. With a lift of your eyebrow, you say,

“Do I look tamed, Galla?”

Her smile widens, gleeful and a little devious, like all her smiles always have been; and Galla shakes her head, reaching for your left hand and lowering her gaze to your ring.

“You’ve heard of Laconia, have you not?” She asks casually, rough finger tracing the flowers engraved in the band on your fourth finger.

“I have.”

Dark eyes meet yours, “We have a place to fall back to. A safe haven to regroup, to gather our strength again.”

“And retake Attica,” You finish for her, straightening your back. “We’d have Sparta’s army, and Lysander’s victory instills fear in the Christians.”

Galla only looks at you in silence, considering you with the probing gaze of someone so used to shadows you sometimes believe she doesn’t see people and instead sees secrets.

“As an Attic, by heart if not by blood, I ought to ask my Anassa to lead us,” She sentences, making your heart drop. After a moment, she adverts her eyes from yours, licks her lips and breathes for a moment before continuing, “But I have seen you die, too many times for me to rest easy at night.”

“Galla?”

She takes a deep breath.

“As myself, as the woman that loves you, I’m asking my oldest and dearest friend not to return to fight a war she lost already,” She finishes, at the way you frown and step back only pushing forward, “Narses is dead, there’s no chains binding you to us.”

“I am one of you!”

Galla shakes her head, unmovable, “Not fully. You’re not fully theirs either, but-…”

“No,” You sentence, meeting her eyes and stepping forward again. Though your voice is hushed, you try summoning all your strength to the words you speak, “Circumstance doesn’t change my nature. I am Greek, I am Hiereia, I am your Anassa.”

It feels like heavy chains being put on your wrists, to admit that, to accept that. It feels like the same chains Ivar had men put on your wrists, before he took you from everything you loved.

“And you are his wife, you are their Queen.”

You will not hear anymore of this. It is pointless, it is something you could argue on for hours on end and never reach a solution. It is something that pulls tight at your chest with every passing breath where you have to be aware of how much Fate truly manages to tear you in two.

“Find our people a safe place to spend winter at. More than one town will grant you shelter until spring in exchange for labor in the last harvest of the year,” You order, eyes looking at the nothingness ahead of you as you try finding a way. “Don’t let them know you’re Greeks.”

“And your husband? You think anyone can keep a man like him from knowing about us? We are a threat, Greek or not.”

“He doesn’t have to know I know,” You sentence, even though you know it is a foolish choice. If you can just keep these two worlds apart for a while longer… “Galla, I just…need more time. Allow me this winter.”

“And when spring comes?”

You offer a shrug, “Change will come with it.”

“I won’t force you t-…”

“You should know by now forcing me to do something doesn’t work out particularly well,” You interrupt, trying to find resolve in all this madness. Eyeing the forest around you, you find yourself needing to say goodbye again. “I hope the winter is kind. If…if something happens, if you need me…send Zephyr to the skies, and I’ll be here.”

You embrace her, tightly and with a hint of anger at Fate for making you mourn her for so long, and she does the same, for so long the cold seeps into you when you step away.

“Stay safe, may the Gods watch over you.”

Galla smiles, “Our Gods and theirs, may they be with you.”

____

You have wondered, in the days that pass since you have last seen her, if this is selfish of you. Wanting to remain in this world in between worlds. Wanting more time.

Maybe it is selfish of you, maybe it is cruel, maybe it is hopeless. You still pray, as the nights grow longer and the days colder, that as Persephone returns to her husband, not only do they allow yours to return to you, but that they allow you more time.

Your life, your death, is in their hands; all you ask for is time.

This morning, when you walk out the door of the longhouse as the cold sun rises, you extend a hand, and feel the faintest of snowflakes falling on your skin, melting over the back of your hand like a kiss.

“My Queen!” Someone calls out, and you turn to the boy that comes running towards you, “The ships, we see them.”

Your heart leaps in your chest, restlessness taking a hold of you, impatient feet wishing to forget pretenses and run to those docks.

“T-Thank you.” You tell him, and he leaves with bow of his head back to where he came from. For a few moments too long, you linger in the idea of going to the docks to wait for them.

“It’s still a while for the ships to get here, you mad woman.” Hvitserk calls out from behind you, and you turn to him with a smile.

“They told you.”

“Mhm. I told you they’d return in time,” Hvitserk quips, putting his arm around you and hugging you to his side for a moment. “Now you’re stuck with my bother for the winter.”

He accompanies you to the healers, and helps you work on getting everything ready for the injured or sick that may need assistance when the warriors finally land.

Before long, able to distract yourself with your work, you find yourself watching with baited breath as the ships dock.

You meet familiar eyes and kiss familiar lips, and the world ceases to exist.

The cold of winter is biting over your exposed skin, and you were taught, all your life, that the dawning of winter meant the grief of a mother losing her child, meant a maiden was taken from the place she belonged and the world withered in her absence.

It doesn’t feel like death, winter. It doesn’t feel like absence, like grief. Like a departure.

It feels like warmth, winter. It feels like home, like love. Like a return.

____ ____ ____

Obvious references to the God Ivar storyline are obvious. But, as much as I vehemently hate that plot, it gave us Freydis as we know her, and I love writing her, so I had to reference it.

Is it absolutely fucking stupid to trust Freydis again? Yes. Is she doing it anyways? Also yes. Soft heart, what can I tell ya.

Oh, and yeah, Minthe is also a deity I related to Freydis. Many times during the story, especially in ‘key’ moments where Freydis is witness to something between the Reader and Ivar, the Reader mentions smelling mint. Surprise lol. Just a little nod to a nymph that wanted to fuck Hades and to Persephone’s jealousy, that’s about it. But Ivar’s take on it is my favorite bit of that flashback, even if mythology-wise it doesn’t make a lick of sense lol.

Anyhow, hope you liked this! Would love to hear your thoughts on it, and thank you so so much for reading!! I love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss   @itsmysticalmystery​ @revolution-starter​ @chibisgotovalhalla​ @the-a-word-2214​ @fae-sedai​ @crazybunnyladysworld​  

[translytherins]

Unaccepted Permission Slip {Part 2}

[A/n: Pitcure refrence is on my Unaccepted Permission Slip part 1 so go check that out if you want refrence]

Peter's P.O.V

"Your enjoying the attention that your getting from (m/n) aren't you Peter" Ned said while wiggling his eyebrows at me. Mj was just smirking at me.

"Yup" i said while popping the p.

I looked at (m/n) who was standing right next to me. We were in front of the elevator waiting for it to open. He was wearing his headphones, listening to his music playlist so he most likely didn't hear what Ned said.

"I think this is the most clingy he's ever been in our one year of dating. So I'm enjoying it while it lasts" i said with a smile on my face. The elevator doors opened and we got on to it.

-

I opened the door to the training room and we saw Aunt Tasha sparring with Uncle Clint while Pietro was sparring with Pops. Wow...this is so...freaking...unimpressive. Well to me and (m/n) that is because the Avengers sparring is basically a daily occurrence. My classmates and the teacher were gawking at the scene infront of them. When they saw us they stopped sparring and gave us a welcoming smile.

"Hello children of Midtown High" Aunt Tasha greeted us but i don't think the others caught on, on the fact that she just called them children because their to star struck but (m/n), me and Mj did. We were snickering while Mj was glaring at us causing us to stop.

"Today we'll be picking five students to come and and demonstrate with the five of us.

" Five??? But there's only four of you??? "

" No there's five of us. Come here (N/n). Your joining us" Pietro said with a smug look his face.

I visibly gulped because I knew something very VERY bad is about to go down. I just love when my Parker luck strikes. Note the sarcasm.

(m/n)'s P.O.V

I groaned because of two things. One, I'm too lazy to spar and two Pietro called me (N/n).

"No. I'm not doing it and you can't make me" i said while giving Pietro a challenging look.

"Oh, i can" he replied while holding my wireless headphones. I checked my neck only to realise that they were missing.

I just groaned in annoyance and made my way over to them. Taking my headphones from Pietro and smacking his head really hard. Pietro whined and pouted while i just rolled my eyes at him. Cap made us stand to the side while he and Nat demonstrated. They started sparring and the classs stared in amazement (except Peter of course) but i didn't pay attention to the demonstration. Instead i put on my mask, hood and headphones, got out my sword and started practicing with it while doing some summer saults, back flips, cart wheels and much more. I was so into it that i didn't even realise that half of the classes attention was on me. I shape shifted my sword into a staff and transferred my water element into it. I stabbed the staff into the ground and a water dragon appeared from my staff. After a few minutes, it evaporated into water droplets before disappearing it completely.

Once it disappeared, i turned around while pulling down my headphones and saw that everyone was staring at me shocked and surprised even the five Avengers (including Peter) because i never showed them i could do with my full power. Pietro was the first one to snap out of it and Pietro super speed towards and wrapped an arm around my shoulder with his sh*t eating grin.

"Didn't know you could do that"

I just shrugged and pushed his arm off my shoulder.

"I forgot"

He just chuckled and yanked me by my hand towards the middle of the sparring mat. The others snapped out of it and started choosing their sparring partners. Some of them looked excited to spar with us, some of them looked like they were about to sh*t their pants. I put my headphones back on and waited until it was my turn. I was so into my music that i didn't even realise that it was my turn to pick until Clint nugged my shoulder, telling me it was my turn to pick. I had an evil smirk on my face but no one could see it under my (f/c) mask.

"Eugene Thompson"

When i said his name his face paled slightly but he had a cocky arse grin on his face. He probably thought he could beat me but his name is on my death list, so i won't be going easy. Peter looked like he was about to pass out and his friend, Mj, was drawing something on her book ( judging by the way she was holding her pencil) so fast that it looked like her pencil was about to break. He slowly made his way towards me, trying to look menacing as possible but it didn't work. All i did was yawn and say ;

"How long is it goong to take for you to get here because your wasting everyone's time with your presents"

Everyone either laughed or snickered at my comment making the retard named Flash mad but decided to not say anything and finally walk faster so he was standing next to me. We all moved to the side because Nat was going first with her partner which was a girl that looks slightly terrified but slightly confident that she might win. Let's just hope Nat doesn't break her bones.

-

After a few minutes of watching the other kick arse, finally it was my turn. Me and Flash walked to the center of the sparring mat. We got into our fighting stance and waited for Steve to blow the whistle. While waiting, i quickly shape shift my sword into a sludge hammer and transferred some natural element into it. When he blew the whistle, i slammed the hammer onto the ground creating a huge crack in the ground and the floor continued to crack until it reached Flash. The room was silent until the cracked area started to fall, creating a huge deep hole in the ground. Unfortunately, ( well fortunately actually. I don't want to kill him. Just scare him a little) he moved just in time so he won't get swallowed by the ground. He had an arrogant smirk on his face because he thought he had a chance but unknown to him there was vines that was starting to sprout from the crack that managed to make his way behind him. The vines started to tangle his legs. He raised his fist and was about to come running towards me but he fell face first onto the ground. Everyone bursted out laughing even the avengers were snickering because i may or may have not made F.R.I.D.A.Y send a video of the incident in the lab to Tony and knowing him he might have already showed the video to the others before these four came down here. I walked up to him, who was still on the ground struggling to get out of my vines, and whispered in his ear, my eyes glowing red.

"If you or that sorry excuse of a teacher ever and i mean EVER hurt my boyfriend or anyone else again not only me but the others will come after you two and slit your throats open. Got it you b*tch"

He nodded his head vigorously. I smirked and untangled him from my vines and he stood up shaking like a leaf and spoke in a teasing but serious tone.

"Not so tough are you mister tough guy. Now get out of this f*cking tower while we wrap this tour up, never show your face here again because I don't think Tony let's bullies like you into this tower EVER again and don't even think about trying to apply for the internships because the chances of you getting in is 1%"

And with that, he bolted out of the room. I just shook my head. People these days can be a bit b*tchy. I repaired the crack in the ground and we (Clint, Pietro, Nat and Steve) walked towards the awestruck class.

Peter's P.O.V

The five of them were walking towards us and i have a bad feeling about what's about to go down.

"Listen here everyone. If i hear that you bring harm to my son, Peter Stark-Rogers, just remember that me, my husband and the rest of the avengers will not hesitate to take action. Understood???"

They all nodded their heads with shock (with Mrs.Warren slightly terrified)

" Good. The tour is over but the teacher will have a meeting with me, Tony and the principal deciding whether your going to keep your job or not for not doing anything about kids bullying other kids"

The whope class exited the tower talking about how cool the trip was. Ned just gave me a smile and waved before walking through the door. Pops turned to me and i gulped.

"We'll talk about you being bullied later. Right now, go and change your clothes. The press conference going to start in an hour and you have to change into the suit Tony gave you because if you don't he's going to go beserk"

I nodded my head and towards my room to get ready for the press conference that i totally DIDN'T forget about. But tonights going to be a long night of explanation and scolding *sigh*. You know what it's okay because i know they're trying to protect me and i wouldn't trade them or my boyfriend for the world.

-Timeskip To The Press Conference-

Me, my family and my boyfriend were at the conference room (A/n :If there's not just go with it). We're not even inside yet but I could already see light flashing and loud talking inside the room. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked towards the owner of the hand and saw dad smiling at me.

"Don't worry kid. You'll be fine"

I smile and nodded.

"Ready?" Happy asked as he put his hand on the handle ready to open the door.

I nodded my head. I felt (m/n) take a hold of my left hand and squeeze it for reassurance. Happy opened the door and we walked inside and onto the podium. When we were all standing on the podium Dad and pops were immediately bomb with a thousand questions asking if it was true he was gay and married and if they adopted a kid. He confirmed it saying he was married to Steve Rogers *cue the crying woman's* and he introduced me to. I waved akwardly, not knowing what to act and questions were shot towards me. They're talking was hurting my ears and the lights were really bright all of a sudden. Realisation hits me like a bullet train. I was having a sensory overload. I tugged on pops hand and he looked over at me. He immediately realised what was happening just by looking at me and said the press conference was over and carried me inside to lay me down in my room.

-

He and dad placed me on my bed with an extremely worried (m/n) standing behind them. They kissed my forehead and left the room to bring the news to everyone in the living room. (m/n) was about to follow them but i tugged his hand unintentionally making him fall onto the bed because of my super strength and snuggled into his side. He gave me a soft smile and kissed my forehead making me smile.

"How did i get so lucky with you?" he asked.

I looked at him with a confused look.

"Why are you asking that??? It should be me asking you that"

He gave me a smile that I love so much and pecked my cheek, making me blush.

"I love you so much Pete that it hurts. You know that, right???"

"I know. You tell me that every day. I love you too (m/n). So, so much"

And with that we both fell asleep in each others embrace woth a smile on our faces.

~The End~

[e-milieeee]

haunted

Summary: When Gabriel goes a step too far, Plagg has decided he’s had enough. 

Meanwhile, Gabriel Agreste has discovered that his house may or may not be haunted, because a vengeful spirit certainly seems to be after him. 

Notes: basically plagg being a little gremlin and trolling gabriel like he deserves. ft. gabe’s 3 remaining braincells. based on this post by @hamsternamedmarinette and @snail-noir im sorry its so crappy lol 

haunted

“Well,” Adrien is saying as he trudges inside the room and kicks the door shut. “There’s that, then.”

Plagg flits out from his shirt. His face is set in an angry mask, tail sticking straight up. “That’s that?” he echoes. “No, that’s absurd! Your father’s absurd! He should come back here and I’ll give him a piece of my mind and—”

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut. “Plagg, it’s fine. Forget it.”

Plagg makes an angry noise in the back of his throat. “So you’re just gonna take that? For weeks? He has no right.”

In his hand is the piece of paper—now crumpled—that his father had shoved into his fingers before he stormed off: the schedule for the fashion show. It runs for a week, but there’s also a terrifying amount of preparations to be done two weeks prior—all of which his father had decided he needed to be present for.

“I can’t risk making father angry,” Adrien settles with.

Plagg folds his arms. “Fine,” his kwami says curtly, in a manner of speaking that Adrien always finds hard to argue with. “Hypothetically speaking, then, if your father found out his plans had been cata—destroyed, would you be allowed to go out?”

“Plagg, I’m not going to break into my father’s study as Chat Noir to cataclysm his work just so I can go out with friends.”

Plagg smiles at him. It’s the smile Adrien had often gotten before he’d discovered the toilet paper in his washroom all scratched up and littering the floor. “Don’t worry,” comes the reply. “You won’t have to.”

***

Gabriel Agreste’s study is locked, but that doesn’t prove a problem for the small black shape that slips through the doors like they’re made of nothing more than mist. It’s dark, but cats have always seen better at night anyway.

There, on the top of his desk, lies the designs for the first set of clothes that are to be showcased. Meticulous notes. Fabric samples. Timing and schedules. Signatures and contracts.

The small, black cat picks the folder up with two paws. Then it crumbles into dust.

***

“Nathalie, did you touch the folder on my desk?”

It’s been a long morning—Gabriel had been up at 4 AM in an attempt to see if he could get an edge on Ladybug and Chat Noir. It had been horrendous to find someone to akumatize so early, and by the time he’d pinpointed his victim—forty five minutes later—he had nearly fallen asleep. He’d been pummelled by Ladybug and Chat Noir. Absolutely pummelled. And then, as if the situation couldn't help but get worse, Audrey Bourgeois had called him at six (just when he was about to go back to bed) and told him she couldn’t make it to the fashion show.

That woman had no regard for timezones. And no regard for him, either, because part of the marketing for the fashion week was Audrey’s attendance.

Gabriel was considering akumatizing himself when he realized the manila folder on his desk—that had been there when he left the night prior—was nowhere to be seen.

He searches through all his files. Crawls under his desk. Checks his lair. It's gone.

“Nathalie!” he bellows again, and she comes barrelling through the door to his office.

“What is it, sir?”

Gabriel takes a deep breath. “Have you seen the files for the fashion show? It was in the folder on my desk when I left.”

“Sir, I haven’t been in your office since last night, and I’m certain I saw your files there. Are you sure you haven’t misplaced it?”

Misplaced it, yeah. That’s what it was. Probably.

Now, what he needed was a nap.

***

The files do not turn up. Gabriel sends Nathalie to print them out again. The most important stuff is stored on his computer, but there are signatures he’d spent weeks getting.

He locks the files in his drawer the next time he gets it.

***

Tuesday morning finds Gabriel Agreste feeling much more refreshed. He even joins Adrien for three minutes during breakfast.

He walks into his office to find his favourite coffee mug in smithereens on the ground.

The files are still stored safely in his drawer. But there is a big, ugly tear across the dress he’d been working on for the past three months.

Gabriel screams.

***

Gabriel Agreste isn’t a fan of security cameras in his office. Especially because anyone with some hacking ability could possibly get their hands on the tape, and the last thing he needs is someone seeing him descending into his lair, or opening the safe behind his painting. Really—there’s simply too many sketchy things he’s done in the office for him to trust putting a camera there.

But he installs two of them nonetheless. His coffee mug could be an accident. But that rip on the dress? No, the only explanation is that it was intentional. But how?

Gabriel thinks of possibilities until he gives himself a headache.

***

“Father seems stressed lately,” Adrien notes to Plagg. There’s not much time for himself between busy schedules, but the moments in between he catches to talk to his kwami. The past week, stuck alone in his room with barely any interaction with his friends, has been draining. He cherishes the precious minutes he gets to spend with Plagg.

“Does he?” Plagg asks in a tone of practiced disinterest. “Well, he does have that really important fashion week thing coming up.”

“He asked me if I’d broken into his study a day ago, but he always locks his study. I think some of his files were missing.”

“Oh?” Plagg replies. “That’s terrible misfortune.”

“Father says he thinks a thief snuck in in the middle of the night and stole them, but we have security cameras all around the house and nothing happened.”

“Spooky.”

“Plagg…”

Plagg only shrugs. “Perhaps your house is haunted,” he replies disinterestedly. “Good thing you’re not scared of ghosts, Adrien.”

***

The house is haunted, and Gabriel cannot sleep.

The most terrifying part of watching the footage is that he sees nothing. There is no movement. No nothing. But then, the next morning, his files inside the locked drawer have disappeared.

Nathalie asks him about the dark rings around his eyes. He drinks two more cups of coffees in response.

***

Gabriel’s eyes are burning, but he’s determined to stay awake.

He likes to think himself neat and meticulous, but even he has his breaking point—his desk is littered with coffee cups, and he’s resorted to drinking energy drinks to keep himself awake. There’s less than ten days until the fashion show starts. It’s been so heavy on his schedule that he’s barely found time to akumatize three three people the past week.

Ladybug and Chat Noir must be having a field day while he’s sitting miserably in his office, waiting to catch the thief, too exhausted to summon up more akumas.

The clock ticks past midnight. Gabriel nearly faceplants into a coffee mug.

Another cup of redbull.

By the time it’s two in the morning, nothing shocking in particular has happened. Every time the flashing light of a car drives past the front of the house he starts, sits back down, and struggles to keep his eyes open.

It’s 2:04 when a crash sounds outside of his office.

Like a madman, Gabriel scrambles up from his seat. He knocks over a half-finished mug of coffee in the process, but that doesn’t matter. The door of his office slams open. He trips on a rug. But he gets up and runs like he’s never run before.

With all the force he can muster, he slams his palm down on the light, and the once-dark staircase and hall become bathed in golden light. The chandelier flickers twice and he stares down at the hall with half the mind to wonder if he’s going to finally see the ghost.

Gabriel is the only one in the hall.

He checks once more. Then again. Then again. But there is no one there, no source of the crash—

Oh, no.

The painting he’d bid at an auction twelve years ago—one that had cost a fortune—has fallen off the wall and face planted into the floor. The sight of it physically hurts Gabriel, and he’s scrambling towards it in a mixture of fear and anger when another noise sounds in his office.

In the months of being Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste has felt a generous range of emotions. But never has he felt such bone-chilling fear.

He heads back up the steps with robotic movements numbly. Down the corridor. Into his office.

There is no one there, and the mess that has been made is moreso his fault than of the invisible thief—or ghost—but then Gabriel sees one of his locked drawers open and the contents inside dumped unceremoniously on the ground.

The next day, when Nathalie finds him out cold on the ground, he attributes it to the exhaustion and the amount of coffee and energy drinks he’d consumed. But deep down, Gabriel knows that it’s the terror that’s finally caught up.

Either way, he faints.

***

Gabriel is confined to bed by a very concerned Nathalie. She usually heeds to his instructions, but the rare insistence from her and his own fatigue lands him out of commission for the day. It doesn’t stop him, however, from giving her a set of instructions.

“First, my office,” Gabriel croaks. His throat hurts—he must’ve caught a cold as well. “Please clean everything up and reinstall the locks. And then… and then…”

He thinks of the missing files—three times—and grits his teeth. “Cancel the fashion week.”

Nathalie’s jaw drops open. “Sir—”

“I know,” Gabriel mutters. “I just… I’m left with no choice. I’ll reschedule. Make up some excuse.”

She dips her head. “Noted, sir. Is that all?”

Gabriel gives her a miserable nod. She’s halfway out the door when he remembers.

“Nathalie!” he yells. “Get me a shaman, too.”

***

“The fashion week is cancelled.” Adrien looks up from practicing piano. “Father is sick, I think, which might be why. Nathalie looked super stressed when I saw her before my lessons.”

“Cancelled?” Plagg echoes dispassionately. “Huh. That’s too bad, I guess.”

“No, that’s good! I mean, it’s not good that my father is sick and Nathalie is stressed, but… at least I won’t be hounded about preparations. I even got permission to go out today.”

“Huh,” Plagg replies. He settles himself into his wheel of cheese. “I guess you’re lucky after all, then.”

Notes: yeah idk what i wrote but master fu is the shaman they hire and he finds out gabriel is hawkmoth and arrests him and the end if u wanna know what happens next 

Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[sanakoreanlangblr]

2021 Goals

Heyy! I’ve decided to put my goals for this year here, hoping that that might motivate me further, and maybe motivate someone else as well. Good luck everyone! And please take extra care of yourselves and your health, mental or otherwise! Everything else can wait.

This year has been difficult for all of us. As for me, even now, the upcoming semester is a big question mark. Currently I’m studying in France, and this semester I was supposed to go on an exchange to Taiwan buuuut that’s not happening anymore, as it has been cancelled. So per my school’s requirements I need to find an internship in the place of expatriation, which is a pain now. And that basically just means I have no idea where I’m going to be in the coming year or what I’m gonna be doing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry, needed to complain for a bit, as I am going absolutely insane with the stress…

Anywayyyy, I still hope I will be able to uphold most of these goals, wherever I will end up. I tried to not make them overly big, so that I won’t get burned out too fast. But I have a whole year for those, some of these have dates for which I could expect to finish but I will not keep to them very strictly. Whatever happens, happens :))

Also, sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language!

Korean (A2 -> B1)

1. Do 100 lessons of grammar from the HowToStudyKorean website.

I’ve started a few grammar books but in the end decided to settle on this website as I like its explanations best, and it provides the most example sentences when introducing each point. A nice touch is also the fact that it includes a list of a number of new words before each chapter, which gives me some new vocabulary to learn :)

So far I’ve divided the grammar points introduced in lessons into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and turns out I have:

66 „to learn”

35 „to revise”

32 „already know”

So if I did 3 points a week, I should be done around August.

2. Read 2 little stories per week from “Easy Korean Reading for Beginners”.

There is 30 stories in the first one (I already did 5), so I should be done by the middle of April.

3. Do one chapter per week from “My first hanja guide”.

I just got this book for Christmas and haven’t had the time to fully go through it so we will see how it goes.

4. Do Anki at least three times a week.

Every day would be preferable but I know that would last like a week at most.

5. Have iTalki lesson at least once a week.

That one is not a problem as I have been doing one or two per week for the last year, but I would just like to keep it up.

6. Try writing at least twice a month, and at least 2 pages.

Yeahhh that one is a bit of a bother, as writing still takes me a long time so we will leave it a twice a month and see how it goes.

7. Watch one youtube video per week on Korean grammar or vocabulary.

Generally I would say my goal is to use Korean more, as I know quite a lot but when I’m speaking I tend to go towards the easier words and grammar, which is why I am thinking that writing more could help me. And also I really want to focus on learning vocabulary as that’s always been a pain for me, I’m more of a grammar lover :))

French (A2 -> hoping for upper B1/ beginning of B2)

1. Finish the intermediate grammar book. I’m currently doing „Grammaire Progressive du Français” Intermediate edition, for A2/B1.

The problem is that my grammar knowledge of french is a mess , so going through this book is a bit of an annoyance, as most chapters I technically know but each time I find some nuance I wasn’t aware of... therefore I need to go through it, even the chapters I would have assumed I know :|

So I divided the chapters the same way I did Korean, into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and I ended up with:

14 „to learn”

34 „to revise”

4 „already know”

So technically if I did 2 points a week, I should be done in June.

2. Read the two french books I got for Christmas (“Les aventures d’Alice au pays des merveilles” and “Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours”).

3. Read at least two of the Harry Potter books in French.

I have started the first one this week, and I can tell it’s gonna be a very very slow process. It’s the first book I’m reading in french so it’s a bit difficult and frustrating but hopefully it’ll get better as I go along.

4. Watch at least 4 french movies, with french subtitles.

5. Learn a french song.

6. Read one story per week from „French Stories for Beginners”.

These are quite easy, but they are a nice practice for switching to books later on.

I don’t know if I’m gonna keep this one in, depends on how much my reading of actual books will progress.

7. Get to point 5 on the Duolingo tree.

I use Duolingo mostly as a revision tool, so I’m not really going to focus on it much, but still want to keep it up.

8. Watch one YouTube video per week (on any topic).

9. Listen to two podcasts per month.

10. At least one iTalki lesson per week.

11. Do Anki at least 3 times a week.

I really need to listen to french more, as I’m good at reading and I usually understand that pretty well, and I’m not the worst as speaking, but I am absolutely terrible at listening :| So that’s a priority.

Chinese (tbh I don’t know...end of HSK1/Beginning of HSK2 -> let’s say the goal is HSK3 for this year)

1. Finish the book „Integrated Chinese”

I’m having a tough time to pick a book from which to learn but I guess for now I’ll continue with that one.

Again, I divided the points in the book to „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and ended up with:

47 „to learn”

11 „to revise”

15 „already know”

So doing 2 a week I should be done in July.

2. Learn 15 characters a day

I am way behind on learning characters.. I remember the words well but I didn’t put enough time to learn the characters at the start and now that’s gonna be a bit annoying to catch up on :|

3. Finish the drama „Go Ahead”.

4. Watch 3 Chinese movies, with both English and Chinese subtitles.

5. Have one Italki lesson per week.

6. Learn a children song in Chinese

7. Watch one youtube video per week on grammar.

8. Do Anki twice a week.

Generally focus more on characters. My speaking isn’t terrible (well besides the tones), but I need to work on the grammar a bit more as I seem to mess up the structures quite frequently. I need to put more work outside of my lessons. Since I found out I’m actually not going to Taiwan this semester my motivation has fallen a bit, but on the other hand I now have more time to prepare for fall, at which point I will hopefully be able to go!

Personal

Read 20 books.

I have always loved reading but in the past two years the amount of books I’ve read has gone down, which upsets me a bit…  On the other hand the amount of fanfiction I’ve read is tremendous, so there’s that. However I would like to make more effort to read this year, especially since I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books over those few years.

2. Workout regularly.

Right now I’m at home, so that should be easy to do. I don’t really know what’s gonna happen this semester, so we’ll see what I’m going to do about that later.

3. Eat better.

Meaning: cut down on sugar, eat more veggies and fruit.

4. Get a bit closer to my ideal weight

I’m not necessarily focusing on that this year as the previous one has been hell and really managed to deteriorate my mental health back to high school levels... but still hopefully working out a bit and eating less sugar, more veggies, I will be able to lose a tiny bit of weight. But overall I just want to focus on being a bit healthier.

5. Clean out my wardrobe

Sorry that’s a silly one but I’ve been getting to it for half a year now and I’m just too lazy to do that... maybe once I put it here I will have some motivation

6. Take care of my face and hair

So my sensitive skin hates wearing masks and needs extra care these days I need to really focus on it and baby it, to not go back to the awful red mess it was two months ago

As for my hair, I have kind of 3a curls which I haven’t been taking care of properly and plus I damaged them with hair dye (still I refuse to give up ginger hair, I blame Merida). So now during lockdown and quarantine season I finally had some time to read up on hair care of curls, and honestly after a month I can already see the difference, and well I hope for the best :)))

7. Get a tattoo

It’s something I’ve always put off since I either didn’t have the money or time. And now again both are problematic, so I will wait for the decision until I know what my school semester is going to be like. Maybe this time I will find a good moment! (Although honestly saving up for travelling after all this is over is also a great idea :))) )

8. Don’t go to sleep at 5

Yeah so during lockdown and because of online classes my sleeping schedule got so messed up I don’t even know what to do about it anymore. And while my goal isn’t to switch it to 10 pm, cutting it to 2 am at max would be nice

9. Watch 25 movies

10. Sell/donate the things that I don’t need

I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books, movies, CDs, Xbox games, art products - that I need to get rid of - and I’ve been saying that for like three years now, about the same pile of things. I will try to do that one this year!

I hope everyone’s 2021 will be a ton better than 2020! Keep fighting!

[breathing-and-writing]

Bugs Need To Be Warm During Winter

Happy Holidays @voiidfriend, I’m your back-up @mlsecretsanta! I’m sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy your gift!

Read on Ao3

January, the start of the new year, a month of new beginnings. The new year always brought the opportunity for setting resolutions and trying new things, but unfortunately for some students, it also meant the start of a new semester. Coming back to class in the middle of winter was not only hard for them but also concerning for a certain kwami, who knew that his other half had a hard time during the colder months, especially if she was alone.

The little god peeked his head out of his chosen’s bag to look at the classroom. He had probably never seen the class this bored before, the lack of energy from having to start school again so blatantly evident, he had to hold back the urge to cackle. The most important thing was that everyone was either looking directly at the board or trying really hard not to fall asleep, so he should be able to do what he wanted while staying undetected. Leaving the warmth of the bag he had been occupying behind, he kept under the desks as he inched towards a certain pink purse, going into it when he finally reached it.

“Plagg?” He had honestly been hoping for a more excited greeting.

“Hey, Sugar cube.” His words were accompanied by a smirk.

“You shouldn’t be here, what if someone had seen you?”

“Eh,” he made a nonchalant gesture with his hands, “you worry too much, everyone here is blind.”

“What are you doing here?” Apparently, she was going straight to the point.

“Oh, you know what I’m doing here.” He tried to appear indifferent, but he couldn’t help but gingerly avert his eyes.

“No, I don’t. Please enlighten me.” Now it was Tikki’s turn to appear smug.

“Bugs need to be warm during winter.” He said reluctantly.

“Oh, and you’re here because…?” Her eyes widened in what most would consider an innocent way, but Plagg knew better.

“Don’t make me say it.” He pleaded with a groan.

The wide blue eyes that stared back at him told him that she wanted him to say it.

“Because I don’t want you to be cold.” He grudgingly admitted.

“I’m fine.” If she hadn’t shivered at the exact same moment she replied, the other god probably would’ve believed her.

“Tikki, we’re two halves of a whole. No amount of scarves or blankets will keep you warm like me.”

She distracted herself by burrowing deeper into her scarf. “That doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be away from Chat Noir.”

“You know it’s true. It’s not our fault they don’t know their identities yet.”

“But–”

“And you shouldn’t have to suffer because of it.” 

“Aw Plagg, you do care!”

“Whatever,” he dismissed her words, then quietly added, “you know I do.”

“I guess you being here for a little while won’t hurt anybody.”

“I knew you would listen to reason.” A grin started taking over his face.

“But as soon as the class is over you go back to Chat Noir, okay? An Akuma could attack at any moment.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gestured for her to come closer as he opened his arms. “Now c’mere.”

┅┅┅┅┅

For the first day back at school after winter break, it sure had been a busy one. A whole day of classes mixed in with Alya explaining to her every single new update she had made to the Ladyblog and ending with the first student body meeting of the year. A meeting that lasted two hours longer than it should’ve, because half of the people hadn’t bothered to read the e-mail that had been sent a week ago, and the other half just kept disagreeing with everything proposed. It sure was enough to make a part-time superheroine long for a nap.

Marinette started making her way down the stairs towards the locker room, so she could gather her things and finally go home. She let out a dreamy sigh as she spotted her favorite fencer currently practicing in the courtyard. How did Adrien Agreste manage to be so good at everything he did?

The boy took a sudden pause in his match, lifting his mask and waving at the girl as he spotted her too. Somehow, she managed to bring her hand up to wave back, though she was more focused on keeping her blush to a minimum and not missing any steps like the last time she ended up falling down the stairs. 

The girl sighed as she finally reached the locker room, relaxing as she closed the door behind her. Remembering her kwami, she opened her purse she could address her.

“Hey, Tikki, I’m sorry the meeting took so long, it’s just–” Her voice failed her as she saw the inside of her purse.

Tikki was there alright, sleeping soundly while burrowed deep into her scarf like she was supposed to, but she wasn’t alone. Instead of using the fabric as a pillow, she was nestled in the arms of another sleeping kwami, a certain bad luck kwami that wasn’t supposed to be there.

As Marinette continued to stare, Tikki started to stir, sighing as she opened her eyes. She seemed to be in pure bliss until she looked up and their gazes met. The little god gulped as she shook her companion awake. Plagg started to complain as he stirred, but then he opened his eyes fully and realized their predicament. He wisely chose to stay quiet.

“Plagg?” The girl finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you see, it’s actually quite a funny story–”

“Wait.” She cut him off abruptly.

Marinette paused to scan the room. Once she was sure they were alone, she moved to the hidden spot behind the lockers, so they would be out of sight of anyone that decided to come in.

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” She addressed the kwamis again. “What is going on? Why are you here? And why aren’t you with Chat Noir?”

“Relax, M.” Plagg said as he started floating up towards her eye level. “We were just taking a little nap.”

“What?!” 

“Sugar cube here needed some warmth, that’s all.”

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible and dangerous that was?!”

She looked accusingly at the kwamis, both of them now out of her purse, and started pacing to try and keep her words calm.

“What if someone had seen you? Or what if there had been an Akuma? You guys know we have to put Paris first, Chat Noir and I have always had to do that.”

She stopped at the mention of her partner, realizing yet another problem that came with their situation. If she wasn’t panicking a moment ago, she definitely was starting to now.

“Oh my god, does he know you’re here?” She whipped her head to look at Plagg, his averted gaze gave her all the answer she needed. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t! He must be panicking right now! Do you even know how to go back to him?” Her volume started rising in tandem with her panic. “Oh no, this is a complete disaster!”

“Uh, Marinette–”

“You know I’m not that type of person, but I’m the Guardian now! All of us are supposed to be working together to–”

“MARINETTE!”

The voice of her kwami managed to break through her rambling. 

“What?” She asked in exasperation.

Both kwamis stood there stiffly, nervously pointing to something behind her.

“Oh, don’t you think you’re going to be able to distract me from–” Her words died in her throat as she turned and saw what, or more precisely who, they were pointing to. Uh oh.

“Adrien! Hey!” She tried to appear casual as she shifted to try and hide the kwamis behind her body. “What are you doing here?” She failed.

Adrien seemed to break out of his trance at her words. He took a deep breath and tried to say something normal, but apparently, his filter had been left behind in the courtyard.

“Oh, you see, after class today I couldn’t find Plagg, so I thought I could ditch fencing a bit early today, so I could have time to look for him before my driver arrived, so that’s what I did and here he is, so I guess my plan worked.” Maybe he should’ve thought about what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

“Oh, okay that makes sense.” A whole ten seconds of awkward silence went by, then his words sunk in, and she took a double-take. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, I found him, but now I’m just confused by the whole situation.” He tried to smile to convey that nothing was wrong, but it ended up looking more like a wince.

“Let me explain,” Plagg came forward as he cleared his throat, “I snuck into Mari’s bag during class, so I could help Tikki stay warm ‘cuz I care about her wellbeing or something, but we ended up falling asleep… haha.” Everyone was gaping at him, so he tried to defuse the tension by continuing his explanation. “Basically, kid… yeah, you were right about who you thought Ladybug was.”

“Plagg!” Tikki replied in outrage.

“I’m sorry Tikki, but we obviously can’t salvage this one.” He finalized with a shrug.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait a minute.” Marinette interrupted their exchange. “Does that mean you are…” She turned to look at Adrien, still in shock.

“Mhm,” he managed, “and you are…” The shocked expression left his face and was replaced by a dashing grin as he realized.

They were obnoxiously interrupted by the sound of the doors banging open and the chatter of students entering the locker room after their fencing practice. Their time was up.

“We’ll talk later tonight, okay?” He said in a gentle tone.

She only managed to nod back before he exited the room.

Once the last student left, and she was alone again, Marinette felt like she could finally breathe. She tried to process everything that had just happened calmly, in the hopes of preventing another freak-out, but then the last words Adrien had said to her registered in her mind: “We’ll talk later tonight, okay?” He had said that they were going to talk later tonight because they had patrol later tonight. Later tonight! That was very soon–too soon–how was she going to manage to put herself together in only a couple of hours?

┅┅┅┅┅

Transforming and leaving her room had been painless enough, she had even left for patrol a couple of minutes early like she always did. It was when she was almost at their meeting place that she decided she needed a moment alone, just to take a breather, it would be quick, and then she would arrive on time to patrol. Which is why she was now on a random secluded rooftop, nervously pacing its length, and taking "deep breaths" that sounded pretty similar to hyperventilating, almost half an hour past the time she was supposed to meet Chat Noir for patrol.

The knowledge that she was late just added to her internal turmoil, which she was so absorbed in that she didn’t hear a certain someone landing a couple of paces beside her. 

“You’re running a little late to patrol, aren’t you?”

She stopped on her tracks at the sound of her partner’s voice, avoiding his gaze as she started wringing her hands.

“Hmm… yeah.” She admitted in defeat. “How did you know?” She turned to look at him as she asked.

“You’re my best friend Ladybug, I know you too well.” He accompanied his words with a gentle smile.

“Yeah… you are.” She realized.

He started to slowly approach her, trying to read her current mood.

“What’s bothering that pretty little head of yours?”

“You know what it is.” She said in an apprehensive tone.

“Well, I also know there is something else besides the fact that we know each other's names now.”

“This was not supposed to happen.” Had it not been for Chat Noir’s enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have heard it.

“I… are you disappointed?” He felt an ugly weight in his stomach. “Is it because you don’t like Adrien?”

“What?!” Ladybug seemed to snap out of her trance. “No, no. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just… I feel like I failed.” She couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes.

“You know this was an accident, right?” He tried to comfort her.

“Yes! An accident that could’ve cost us everything! What if it hadn’t been you?” Her partner stood speechless. “I’m the Guardian because I messed up, and I haven’t stopped messing up ever since!” She groaned as frustration took over her. “I’m not ready to be the Guardian and I don’t know if I’ll ever be.” She turned around to avoid looking at her partner’s face.

“Maybe you weren’t ready, but I’ve always thought that things happen for a reason. It was meant to be.”

Her eyes got misty as she replied. “It’s just… I don’t want things to change, I never wanted things to change.”

“Well, I think things should change.” He closed the distance between them as he stood directly behind her. “Change can be for the better too, you know?” His touch was soft as he gently grasped her shoulders and spun her around, forcing her to look at him. “Bugaboo, we’re a team, remember? You don’t have to go through any of this alone, and you get to make your own rules now. You’re the Guardian after all.”

“Promise?” Her voice was small as she asked.

“Yeah, promise. It’s you and me against the world.” He stood at ease again when he saw some tension leave her shoulders. “You better now?”

The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Yeah, thanks to you.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” his voice took a sly lilt, “because we still need to talk about the other thing.”

“The other thing?”

Adrien had practiced this part of the conversation and knew exactly what he wanted to say, but now it seemed that words started to leave his mouth without guide or permission. “Yeah, look, I know on the other side of the masks we are not the closest of friends or anything–”

Oh, that other thing. Ladybug remembered, and the shock of the earlier reveal came crashing back into her.

“–I mean, I get it, my father can be very intimidating, and I don’t really have free time so, like, it’s not your fault at all that we aren’t closer–”

Oh my god, it has been Adrien all this time! And he thinks I don’t like him!–

“–and I hope this isn’t too sudden… Is it too sudden?–”

–but if he has been in love with Ladybug all this time… that’s me!–

“–but I’d really like to be closer to you, like, on both sides of the masks. I mean, I’ve always wanted too anyways because Marinette is so amazing–”

He is so cute when he’s rambling like that… Did he just say I’m amazing?

“–so could we, like, hang out sometime? Or just talk? I know you’re always super busy too, so–”

She decided to end his suffering by bringing a single finger up to his lips, effectively ending his rambling.

“Shutupshutupshutup.” She said in a hushed tone.

Ladybug’s mood continued to lift as he looked at her with confused kitten eyes.

“As adorable as it is to see you rambling, you really don’t have to do that.”

The confusion left his face at her words and was replaced by smugness. “You think I’m adorable?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to be flustered as she realized what she had said. After all this time, THIS is how I confess?

“Ah–I–no, I mean, yes? I mean–” A blush started taking over her cheeks. “I’ve kind of always have?”

“Bugaboo…”

“I always thought of Adrien like that,” she averted her eyes, “and that’s the only reason I spent all that time trying to convince myself that Chat Noir wasn’t,” then as an afterthought she added, “but I definitely failed at that.”

“Oh…” understanding started to sink into him, “I always thought you stayed away from Adrien because I wasn’t as cool as you.”

“No… I was just nervous around you… all the time.”

“We really just were running around in circles all the time, huh?” He said with a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, I guess we were.”

“Can I?” He was hesitant as he opened his arms for a hug.

“Yes, Kitty, you can.”

He engulfed her in a hug, both of their hearts soaring.

“So, so, so,” he pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes, “if I like you,” he continued at her nod, “and you like me,” a grin started taking over his face, “does that mean we can–”

“Hold your thought right there Chaton.”

She stood on her tiptoes, bringing their faces inches from each other. She placed her lips right next to his ear, having to hold in a laugh at how tense he got.

“You have to beat me to the Eiffel Tower first.” She whispered.

Without wasting a second, Ladybug threw out her yo-yo, taking up from the rooftop in direction to the Eiffel Tower, only turning back to laugh at Chat Noir’s indignant expression.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

[abduct-me-helen]

Class 108′s Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 3.

Katie was the first one to recover, turning her knife on Mr. Sims and charging forward. Martin yanked him out of the way.

“Woah! Woah, woah. Hey!” he said, waving his arms to get her to calm down.

“Katie.” Rosie barked, which in that tone meant “stand down.”

Katie withdrew, not taking her eyes off her former teacher. “You can’t be real. You obviously aren’t human, and-”

“If you put down the knife, I promise I’ll give you answers.” Jon said, hands up and breathing steady.

Katie glanced over to Rosie, who narrowed her eyes in thought then gave a quick nod. She begrudgingly lowered her weapon, eyes still locked with the two newcomers in the room.

There was a moment of silence.

“What the fuck just happened?” Riko asked, slipping her glasses off in disbelief.

“I…I smited him.” Jon answered awkwardly. “Okay, how about we get everyone in here and then we can have…a class.”

“A class.” Katie deadpanned. Jon nodded, and she shrugged, standing up and gesturing for Riko to come with her while she fetched Elliot and Raphi, who were still in the other classroom. Probably kissing. Ugh.

An awkward silence filled the air, before Tabitha turned to the window and tilted her head. “Who opened the blinds?”

The rest of the kids shook their heads, and Tabitha sighed, turning the rod to the right and shutting the outside world out of sight.

“Eyeball daddy must’ve wanted to say hi.” she said thoughtfully.

Jon choked, and Martin had a look of mild horror on his face as he patted Jon’s back to stop him from coughing.

“E-exuse me?” he stammered.

Tabitha was unfazed.

“Eyeball daddy. You know, the great voyeur? The big smexy eyeball in the sky?”

Martin keeled over wheezing while Jon dropped his jaw.

“The-the Beholding?!” “Smexy?!”

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. “That’s a stupid name. All hail eyeball daddy.”

“All hail eyeball daddy.” The rest of the kids said in unison, looking bored. It was more of a reflex for them at this point.

Martin and Jon shared a look of horror, before Riko entered with Katie, Elliot and Raphi following her.

“Okay then, take a seat. I’ll explain, but, it isn’t pretty.”

“Really? The apocalypse isn’t pretty? I had no idea!” Raphi snarked. Elliot batted him on the head, and Jon was painfully reminded of a similar interaction between Tim and Sasha in the past.

No, he thought, there’s no time to dwell on that.

“There are fourteen entities called the fears that previously existed in a different place outside of our universe. They all have domain over different fears, and people that serve them get…abilities in exchange for feeding the-”

“Like the spiders! And the masked people! And the-” Tabitha cut herself off, “sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself,” she muttered, wringing her hands and tapping her foot.

“No, go on.” Jon prompted her to continue.

She hesitated. “W-we’ve just been noticing patterns…I call them categories. They’re like…really angry colors? If that makes sense?”

Jon looked impressed. “And you just figured all that out?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong. These “really angry colors” are called the fear powers. Some think them alike to gods, but they don’t have any true motives other than to feed. They aren’t like humans in that respect. They have no motivation.”

The class watched, enraptured as he continued his explanation.

“There’s the Slaughter, fear of war and violence. The Lonely, fear of isolation. The Web, fear of-”

“Being controlled.” Rosie said quietly. Jon nodded.

“Exactly. And-”

“Spiders.” Tabitha shivered, remembering being cocooned in their webs; the feeling of legs crawling over her skin and weaving her in threat.

Jon made a gesture to show that she was right. He continued to explain the rest of the fear powers, until he stopped abruptly.

“And then there’s the Eye.” He said, looking to the closed window. He realized he was running a tape recorder, but at this point he couldn’t care less. The Eye saw everything anyway.

“Wait, hold on, how do you even know any of this?” Elliot asked him, eyes narrowed.

Jon sighed. “Getting to that.”

“The Eye-”

“Eyeball daddy-” “shut up Tabitha-”

“-is the fear of being watched, or being known. I know this one better than all the others, because I…serve it.”

“You what?!” Riko exclaimed, and Katie inched towards her knife.

“I wasn’t exactly given a choice,” he said shortly, rubbing his temples with his palm. “I assume you all know the Magnus Institute?”

Rosie nodded hesitantly. They’d all done their fair share of research on their enigma of a teacher. You would too, if someone like him showed up out of the blue and said cryptic things all the time.

Things that made far more sense these days then she would’ve liked.

“Well, the position of the Archivist, which is what I am, is more or less a trap. You can’t quit, and you become very connected to the Eye. It…changes you.”

“That’s ominous.” Katie muttered. Jon ignored her.

“What’s your connection to all this?” Riko questioned skeptically.

“That’s,” Jon breathed, “that’s a long story.”

“Cut out the boring bits and tell us; it’s not like we have anything better to do.” Elliot shrugged.

“Well, I suppose I started the whole thing.”

“What?!-” “No!-” “How dare you-” “I will fuck you up-”

A chorus of anger erupted in the room, and Martin stepped to the left of Jon’s side.

“He didn’t start it. He’s just guilty about-.”

“If I had fought it-”

“You know full well that wouldn’t have worked. I’m tired of you trying to make yourself the villain.” He stared Jon down begrudgingly.

“Look,” Martin sighed, “I’ll explain since he sees it fit to make himself out to be the enemy here. Our boss, Elias Bouchard, who is actually Jonah Magnus but back to that later, manipulated him. He basically had him marked by all the fourteen fears, and then forced him to complete the ritual that opened the eye. He had no choice in the matter.”

Katie withdrew, and they all relaxed.

“It’s not your fault, then, Mr. Sims.” Sydney said with furrowed brows.

He shook his head. “I…if I hadn’t opened that letter then none of this would’ve happened. I’ve done some bad things.”

“l laughed while one of my best mates got murdered,” Said Tabitha, getting off a desk covered in sharpie doodles.

Jon sighed. “You were under the influence of the Web.”

“And you were under the influence of the eye. How is that different?”

Jon ran a hand through his hair, looking to Martin, who was gazing down on him expectantly. “Fine, yes, I see your point.”

Tabitha nodded, satisfied.

“Why were you here in the first place?” Elliot asked.

“The Eye tells me where to go, and when I found out all of you were alive I decided I needed to come back for you.” Jon answered him, looking to the closed window briefly.

“Come back for us? But we’re safest here!” Sydney protested.

Jon hesitated. “They Eye preserved you because of your connection to me, at least, that’s what I think. It might have been Elias, maybe as a gift? But if I choose to…reject this “present” then you’ll each be thrown into different domains.”

Beat.

“Well fuck.” Tabitha said.

“Language.” Jon said half-heartedly.

“What are you going to do, send her to the principal?” Raphi retorted sarcastically. Tabitha tilted her head towards him and raised her eyebrow at Jon, signifying her agreement

A few people grumbled in agreement, before a pall of silence took over the room.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Asked Cal, who’d been uncharacteristically silent while processing all that had happened.

Jon clenched his fist. “The Panopticon.”

“You mean the tower? That’s not far from here!” Elliot told him.

“Yes, but…space doesn’t work like it used to. We’re going to have to venture through every domain until we can reach it.”

“And what’s the plan?” Katie questioned, expression blank.

“Don’t die? And reset the world” Martin offered.

“That’s it?” Katie said incredulously, her tone affronted.

“It’s a work in progress.” Jon defended.

“Oh well fuck-” “We’re screwed-” “Eyeball daddy, I’m coming for you-” “Bold of you guys to assume I don’t want to die-” “Cypress are you okay-” “If I get into hell I call lava bath-”

Jon facepalmed.

Martin was honestly both concerned and impressed about how they were handling this. If it was him, at this age he would’ve been freaking out and crying, not complaining.

“How are you so calm about this?” He asked, brows furrowed in surprise.

Raphi shrugged. “We’re Gen Z. We had lockdown drills all the time preparing us for a shooter, and once you think of that shit enough it’s not like you aren’t surprised when it happens. We’ve never been afraid of dying, we’re just afraid of watching the world burn,” the other kids nodded in agreement, “and look where that fucking got us.”

Martin was honestly stunned, but he chose not to comment.

“How poetic of you, Raph.” Elliot cooed.

“Oh, fuck off.”

There was a bittersweet moment of hesitation, before Tabitha yelled. “We’re going to win this, fuckers! We have the power of God and Anime on our side! Hiya!” She did the motions from the vine, and the rest of the class followed.

“Hiya!”

-

“List?” Rosie asked, checking supplies off her clipboard.

“Check!”

“Everyone have a weapon or something they can use as one? No, Elliot, I do not count your “bulging muscles” as a weapon. Stop pouting.”

“Check!”

“Everyone grab a buddy. Sydney will be with Tabitha and I, so everyone else should be in pairs. I think that’s everything.”

Rosie turned to Jon and Martin, who were waiting for her to finish the roll call. Jon raised an eyebrow.

Rosie rolled her eyes. “It helps to have some semblance of order here.”

Martin elbowed him, and Jon grumbled something Rosie didn’t understand.

And so, class 108 started their field trip.

-

“Elliot! Raphi! Cypress! Stop making videos! We need to move.” Jon called irritably, annoyed at the loud, bad music that these kids were filming themselves dancing to. It made absolutely no sense to him.

He didn’t like it.

“But we’re doing Tik Toks, Mr. Sims!” Cypress called back.

“You-you’re doing what?” Jon asked confusedly.

“Tik Toks!” Elliot repeated, which did not help at all.

“I-what’s a Tik Tok?” Jon ran his hands through his hair.

“Google-y-eyes it!” Elliot answered.

“Not funny.” He muttered, already getting a headache.

“It was, actually. His puns are great.” Raphi, who’s hearing was only secondary to Katie in the class rankings, (they made a list a few years back), heard him muttering and shouted to him without stopping the dance.

“Fine-what the hell is that?” Jon said, affronted as he began to Know what these “Tik Toks” were.

Insidious.

“That’s a Tik Tok Mr. Sims!” Cypress told him.

“Why are they dancing?”

“To get Tik Tok famous Mr. Sims!”

Jon was notably distressed, so he took out a cigarette and discretely lit it.

Tabitha whipped towards him. “Chris, is that a WEED?”

“W-what?”

“I’m calling the police!”

Christ, these kids were going to be the death of him.

[torikawa]

Tōru Oikawa FanFiction Part #1

'Mixed Realities' a love story between [F/N] [L/N] and Tōru Oikawa.

This Fanfiction includes the following~

Happy Ending

Sexual Themes

Explicit Words

Kinks

Friends to Lovers

Strangers to Lovers

Sad scenarios in the Middle

Fluff

Comedy

[F/N] = First Name

[L/N] = Last Name

[N/O/S] = Name Of School

[F/N] [L/N], a girl who attends to [N/O/S] was known to be a Huge Otaku and the newest Manager of the Boys Volleyball Team. She's a huge fan of the Anime Haikyuu! Looking up to the Characters especially Oikawa. She thought of him as such an amazing character who deserved the world! She basically Simped for him whenever she could.

"Did you see the new Episode?! Oikawa showed up for less than a second but I think I fell for him all over again" [F/N] said with a grin spreading across her face, her eyes glued onto the Screen Shot she took of him.

"Here she goes again." Julien muttered under his breath, glaring daggers into [F/N]'s smaller figure.

"Oh come on! Hearing her rant about her 2D Boyfriend is honestly funny-" Ace laughed in.

"No wonder she's still single, too busy SIMPING for guys who don't exi-" Interrupted by a sharp smack on the shoulder, Leon choked on his food.

"Oh come on! You can't deny that he's the hottest Character in Haikyuu!!" [F/N] chimed in between the boys Laughter.

"You say that about every guy in Haikyuu." Julien dead panned.

"You're just salty that I don't talk about Sakusa as much!"

"Tch." He looked away, his nose scrunching up along with his mask.

"Pfft, don't be mad Juju!" [F/N] squeezed Julien's cheek through his mask, pink scattering across his cheeks as he swats her hand away.

He muttered a small 'whatever' before he got up and walked away.

"Mmm, I think our own little Sakusa likes you [F/N]" Ace said with a snicker.

"He has a point. Julien's a huge Germaphobe yet he treat you as if you're the only pure/clean thing that exists" Leo added, his words mumbled from him chewing on his food.

[F/N] stared at her 2 Friends, dumbfounded. She slowly looked away before moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. She couldn't bring herself to see Julien looking at her as someone more than just a friend.

He was tall, handsome, smart, and above all the boy who the girls swoon over in the School. But there aren't any proof of him liking her, atleast not yet?

"I still can't believe that, but anyways! It's almost practice, we should probably get going or we'll be late" She got up slowly, slinging her bag over her shoulder right shoulder.

Ace and Leo sighed in anticipation, upset about how stupid their little manager was when it came to romance.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the Gym, Julien and the rest of the Team were already practicing their serves.

"You guys are a bit late" The coach said with a sympathetic smile.

"Sorry we wer-"

"[F/N] ate so much, we had to wait for our little manager to be finished because we didn't want her left alone" Ace said with a snort. Causing Leo to burst out of laughter as he jogged towards the rest of the team.

[F/N] gave Ace a smack on the arm, her face beat red. It caused most of the boys who were practicing their serves to snicker.

Meanwhile, Julien kept his stone cold face. Simply not bothered by the fact the others were basically dying of laughter by now. Though as his eyes landed on his dear Friend, a teasing smile spread across his face.

[F/N] looked away embarrassed, trying her best to avoid Julien's teasing gaze.

After 2 hours of practicing, it finally came to an end. With [F/N] handing out each of the Players water bottles.

For Julien, she had to rub the shit out of his bottle. It was something she had to do before handing it to him. Of course at first, she was kind of offended. But now that she was one of the few people who were actually able to touch him, it made her feel special.

"Here" [F/N] said with a smile on her face, slowly handing Julien his Bottle. He stared down at her, nodding before giving a small 'thanks'

She ended up walking home alone today, Julien had to get home fast to take care of his Nephew, Ace had to go out with his Girlfriend, and Leon as usual walked on a different path since he lived in the opposite direction.

It didn't take long for her to reach her front door. She reached into her pockets and pulled out her keys, professionally sticked it into the keyhole with a turn, causing the door to open.

"I'm home!" [F/N] screamed out, but then a sudden shock hit her. Her parents were off on a vacation, so she'd have to live alone for a few weeks. "Oops- Forgot"

Slowly, she took her shoes off. Placing them ever so gently against the shoe rack before ascending the stairs of her house. But then, that's when she realized. Something felt so off about her surroundings, but why?

[F/N] continued her way towards her bedroom slowly, her legs shaking with each step she took.

Her hand pressed against the door as she pushed it open, revealing her bedroom. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning her room.

A minute passed with her standing still. And yet nothing happened. 'Huh, I guess it was just my imagination-' Though before she could step forward to enter her room fully, a large hand grasped her mouth, forcefully pinning her against the wall.

"Who the fuck are you and where the Hell am I?" The dark figure yelled out, his hand still dangerously close to choking her. She couldn't tell who this was, and she couldn't have known why the Hell this person was here in the first place!

[F/N] felt a surge of fear flow through her body as she whimpered against the touch.

"Are you gonna talk or stay quiet?"

"P-Please..- I have no idea why you're here just please let me go!"

The boy eventually let go of her neck, stepping back while letting out a sigh.

[F/N] didn't hesitate to flick the lights on, snapping her head back to the boy. Only to have her eyes widen and her mouth open. 'N-No way..-' she thought in her head.

The Boy infront of her stood at over (6'0"), chocolate brown hair, and eyes. The features of his body were all so familiar with her.

"Oi..Oikawa..-?" [F/N] muttered, loud enough for the boy to hear.

"How do you know my name" Oikawa deadpanned, his cold eyes staring down at her smaller figure.

"I...no w-way- this can't be happening I.. this is a d-dream I..-" She stepped forward, causing him to step back in confusion and fear.

He wasn't used to his surroundings, nor was he used to having to look at a mirror with his different yet similar face.

"Stay back, I don't know who you are." Tōru kept his distance from her, he didn't show any fear whatsoever. But deep down he was panicking. Where was he? How did he get here? And why was he here?

[F/N] sighed, calming down a bit to hold herself back from bursting out into tears. She looked into Oikawa's half lidded eyes and began to explain how he was a Fictional character she looked up to, a character who wasn't supposed to exist but yet still ended up being in her room PHYSICALLY. Was this a way of God giving her a Gift? A gift of someone she treasured and looked up to the most? Perhaps.

Tōru's eyes softened, he scanned her room only to look at the merch [F/N] baught of himself. It's crazy to believe, but it's the only logical explanation; How he ended up transferring into a different reality, a different dimension. It all made sense in his head but it was hard to believe. How could this girl look so calm? Was she expecting this? Though, she was caught off guard when she realized who he was. So Oikawa shook off the thought, and eventually let out a smile.

"Is it alright if I stay here until I figure out a way to head back..?" He questioned, his head tilting to the side as his usual yet none genuine smile spread across his cheeks. He wanted to deal with this situation without having to face it alone.

"O-Ofcourse..!" [F/N] quickly looked around, before settling her bag on her [F/C] bean bag.

"Do you live alone?"

"Oh, actually I live with my Parents but they're off on a vacation for 3 weeks"

"I see~" Oikawa hummed, before plopping himself on her bed. He may look and act calm and collected. But inside he was worrying about how his friends and family would act with his sudden disappearance from his own reality.

"Are you okay? Do you feel hungry? I could cook for you if you want" [F/N] said as she sat beside him.

Tōru was caught off guard from her sudden approach, but he paid no mind. He didn't get any harmful nor dangerous vibes from the stranger.

"Actually, I'm not hungry at all. But I do have a question or two that I would like for you to answer"

"Ask awayyyy!" [F/N] said with a huge goofy grin her face, causing the setter to let out a chuckle. She couldn't keep in her excitement with having her idol infront of her.

"Pfft, now, what's your name Stranger?"

"Stra- ah right- I'm [F/N] [L/N]"

"Ah~ what a cute name [F/N]-chan! Is it alright if I call you that or are you uncomfortable with it?" Tōru asked with a tilt of his head.

"A-Actually I don't mind you calling me by my first name.. But, that means I get to call you Tōru-kun then!"

"Tōru, just call me Tōru." He replied softly.

[F/N] could practically feel her heart flutter. Was she really falling for Oikawa for real? Was he really THE Oikawa Tōru..

Little did she know, this was the start of an unbreakable bond. A bond that will soon blossom into romance.

[Original Idea, do not steal]

[staylovehearts]

The Other

Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count ~3.3 k

Summary: “I mean I guess it was kinda flattering at first and I was really proud to be with you when all of them keep saying how pretty you are, but it's starting to become a little irritating now."

Tags: fluff, light angst, discussion of feelings and insecurities, they are an idol group in this, established relationship, jisung is a jealous baby

Booming loud music is coming from the training room even though they are technically supposed to be soundproof. But standing in that almost weirdly clean hallway with the bright lights right in front of the door the music is clearly audible. And so are the other sounds coming from the inside. The synchronized stomping, jumping and squeaking of many different feet upon linoleum flooring. You've never actually been inside one of these practice rooms but you have seen them in videos countless times. But just the idea of actually setting foot inside feels wrong.

You feel awfully out of place here, like you are somehow invading a space that's not meant for you. Sure you have that little visitor badge hanging around your neck and you showed off your permit when you were asked for one at the reception. But you could kind of sense people staring at you as you made your way through the hallways, carefully observing every sign to not make a wrong turn somewhere and maybe accidentally end up in someone's dressing room. There are two crowds mingling in these hallways. On the one side, there's the staff, managers, coaches and all kinds of different people involved in producing and designing an album. Most of them dressed in business casual, they are always hurrying, their steps as quickly as they can without having to run. Faces glued to a cellphone, pager or clipboard they are holding. And then there are the idols and trainees. Gorgeous, all of them. Mostly dressed in sportswear as they make their way to and from training rooms, sweaty hair pushed back or put up in ponytails, hints of make-up that hasn't been sweat away yet and funky hair colours that are in various states of growing out or fading into pastel versions of what they used to be. You fit in with neither of them. And you are sure that the other people here notice that as well.

You've tried to keep your head down for the most part. To keep walking without standing around or looking at anyone or anything for too long. You don't want to be loitering here where you feel so much like you don't belong. And now you've finally made it here. The little plastic sign next to the door has the exact same number as the one you wrote down in your notes app. You've compared them at least ten times now. And yet you're hesitant to just step in. Unsure of whether to knock – would they even hear that over the music? – or to just hurry inside and be back out within a moment. Are you even allowed to go in just like that? Wouldn't you be disrupting them? What if they're filming something? You'd ruin the material.

Suddenly, the music stops. You can hear the faint sound of someone clapping and then a mixture of voices. But you can't make out any words. Yet, this is probably the best opportunity you will get. Better to make it quick than keep standing around in front of their training room like some weirdo. You knock on the door softly and when there is no clear response you take a deep breath and just push it open.

All eyes are on you once you've stepped inside. The air is heavy, almost humid, the mirror fogged up. There is a distinct smell of sweat and excessive amounts of body spray you can just barely fight back the urge to cover your mouth and nose. The boys are sitting or lying on the floor all across the room, either talking among themselves or gulping down an entire bottle of water. But as soon as they have all noticed you all conversation dies down.

"Uh, hi, I just wanted to drop something off, uhm, I'm-"

"Babe, what are you doing here?", a cheerful voice interrupts your mumbled explanation when one particular boy jumps up from the floor to hurry towards you. Jisung has a surprised smile on his face. As if he is both confused by you thrilling here and also excited to see you here. He has those excited puppy eyes that make him so adorable. But his cheerful greeting has also attracted attention from the others in the room. While at first their gazes towards you were only mildly surprised or confused they are now full of curiosity.

"You left this at my place last time, and I figured you might need it so I went to bring it over. Oh and I also got you some snacks, make sure to share." As you speak you almost shove the little plastic bag you have been carrying into Jisung's hand. He takes it with a soft smile.

"I should forget stuff at your place more often if that means that you'll come over to bring me snacks when I'm training", he says. Someone whistles and Jisung's head whips around to find the offender.

"Yo, Jisung, is that the one you won't shut up about?", one of the other guys – Changbin – asks almost provocatively.

"Yeah, you never told us you were dating such a beauty", Minho adds.

"Ugh, shut up", Jisung comments, but you can see a small blush creeping up onto his cheeks. Then again, it might just be that he is still overheated from dance practice. "Let's go outside for a moment, we're taking a short break either way", he mumbles at you. Even more whistles.

"Remember, no making out in company-owned buildings", Chan warns just before Jisung can push you out of the room and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry, they don't know how to behave around someone so pretty", he says once you two are standing out in the hallway. You giggle at the compliment.

"They seem nice."

Jisung rolls his eyes at your comment but then he breaks out into a wide grin again. "Look at you having all these guys swooning over you. I should consider myself lucky that I get to be with you. After all, they're right about one thing, you're damn beautiful."

                                                               ~

"Ugh", Jisung groans he puts down his bag on the empty chair next to the one he just sat down on. The light inside the small soba noodle shop is dimmed down, it's almost completely empty. Which is reasonable considering it's basically the middle of the night. There are only a few other customers, most of them sitting alone, always making sure to leave a few empty tables between them and the other people. And you have made sure to pick the table in the most deserted corner of the entire establishment.

"Sorry for making you wait, practice ran a little longer than I thought it would", Jisung mumbles. He has a black bucket hat hiding his bleached hair and hanging down far enough to almost cover his eyes. A mask is covering most of his face, making his voice sound a little muffled. He glances around himself almost nervously before he pulls it down to free his mouth and give you a sheepish smile.

"It's fine, I also only really just got here a few minutes ago." That's a blatant lie. You've actually been waiting here for around half an hour now. The waiting staff must be pretty upset with you at this point, the same young waitress has come over to your table to ask for an order three times now. And you had to ask for a little more time every time. And every time her smile seemed a little more forced. At least you've ordered a drink the second time she came by and have been taking very slow sips of it ever since to stall for time. But you know that it can't be helped. It's not like Jisung made you wait on purpose. It's out of his control. And you knew what you signed up for when you agreed to date him.

"I still feel really bad for asking you to meet me here in the middle of the night. I wish I could take you on normal dates. You know, go out without having to do all this undercover bullshit and only meeting past midnight in some noodle place."

You can't deny that you would want that as well. And you also can't pretend that it bothers you sometimes. To be with someone who only rarely manages to make time for you and when he does you can never really go anywhere too public. You can't just call or text him whenever you feel lonely. Well, you could, but he'd probably take hours to get back to you. And then he'd feel bad about it. You know that Jisung genuinely feels bad that he can't be with you more. And that is the main reason why you won't allow yourself to be too upset about it. He's pouting. You counter with a smile.

"I already told you that it's fine, stop moping around. I'm thankful that you managed to make time for me at all, I know that your schedule is super tight right now. Let's rather enjoy the time we have than complain about the time together we don't get."

Jisung seems to cheer up at that.

"You're right! It seems like I haven't seen you in forever. When even was the last time we met up?"

"Not even that long ago. I came by to drop some of your stuff of while you guys were training just last week, remember? Then again, I guess that doesn't really count as meeting up..."

"Ugh, don't remind me, the guys won't stop teasing me about it", Jisung complains. He's once again sticking out his bottom lip in a small pout that looks a little childish but also adorable. Not that the two are mutually exclusive either way. "They also won't shut up about how they can't believe I'm with someone as gorgeous as you. I mean I guess it was kinda flattering at first and I was really proud to be with you when all of them keep saying how pretty you are, but it's starting to become a little irritating now."

"Oh come on, I bet they're just doing it to tease you, they'll get bored of it."

"Probably, but it's so annoying, I don't like when other guys talk about you like that. I mean, I'm not going to argue with them, you are drop-dead gorgeous, even a blind person would be able to tell. But it kind of irks me to hear other dudes say that about you. I don't like them looking at you like that. Like you're some pretty thing they could just take away from me."

"You do know that you don't owe me either, right?", you comment. While Jisung's jealousy is somewhat cute and you don't mind him becoming a little bit possessive you want to make it clear that you are still your own person.

"Of course, that's not what I meant, it's just that... Ugh, I don't even know, probably I'm just being stupid."

You reach out a hand to gently poke his cheek until he's looking at you so you can smile at him from across the table.

"Forget about that for now. You should better be thinking about what you want to eat, I feel like the staff are going to kick us out if we don't order something soon."

                                                              ~

hey we all have some free time, most of the other guys are visiting their families but my parents are busy so I'll be almost alone at the dorm this weekend, wanna come over?

Jisung sent you this a few days ago. The message came as a bit of a surprise. Not just because you know how rare free time his in his business but also because it's the first time he's ever actually invited you to the dorm. You asked about visiting there once when you had just started dating and he gave you this whole rant about how it's probably not good because the risk of someone seeing you go in is just too high and all of that. A lot of beating around the bush until he finally admitted that mostly he just didn't want to take you there because the dorm tends to be kind of messy with so many mostly unsupervised young boys living there together. And you never really brought it up again after that. But now here you are, with an official invitation.

Even though Jisung has given you clear instructions on how to get inside and what the number code for the big front door is you still feel awkward stepping into the building where the dorm is. Is it even legal for him to give out that code? Of course, you don't intend on doing anything with it, but still, it seems like something that should not just be given out to random visitors.

To your surprise, the one opening the door to the actual dorm is Felix. He seems to be just as surprised to see you here but that surprise quickly turns into a grin.

"So I guess you're here to meet up with Jisung, lucky him. Come on in", he gestures for you to follow him inside and you do so a little hesitantly. The place really does look a little messy but from what Jisung described you had prepared for worse. Sure, there are some discarded clothes on the floor and several opened snack packages all over the place, but nothing that a little tidying up couldn't fix.

"Are you the only other one still here? Jisung told me that you're all visiting family and stuff like that." Felix responds to your awkward attempt at small talk with another smile.

"Ah, you see Chan and I can't really go back to our family if it's just for a weekend or so. But we wanted to do a little trip on our own, we're almost finished packing up, so we'll be out of your hair soon", he laughs. You can feel your face turning slightly red. Of course, you should have figured that they probably can't be making oversea trips to their family all that easily. You can't even imagine how hard it must be to not be able to just go back home for so long.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, I totally didn't want to get rid of you", you apologise quickly. Felix just laughs a little more.

"I know, I know, it's all good. You should probably not keep your boyfriend waiting though."

As if Jisung had only been waiting for his cue he bursts out of one of the many doors and stumbles into the big room that is half kitchen half living space. He sees you and Felix stand together and quickly looks back and forth between the two of you before approaching.

"I thought you'd text me when you get here?", he says, pouting.

"I texted you five minutes ago saying I'd be here soon." You go over to greet Jisung with a hug but he doesn't squeeze you back as tightly as he usually does. When you separate from him again you see him kind of looking to the side. Usually, he'd be smiling at you. Felix is still awkwardly standing in the room, looking at you two.

"Well, I better go check if Chan is done packing. Was nice talking to you", he mumbles. You just barely manage to get out a "Yeah, same", before he disappears into one of the rooms.

"You look upset", you notice as soon as Jisung has shut the door to his room. Aside from having barely greeted you properly he also hasn't really said anything to you after that. He pretty much just gestured for you to follow him without even really looking at you. He seems agitated. Completely on edge, pacing up and down the room while you can only stand there not sure of what to do. Jisung is running his fingers through his hair before he turns to give you an almost pleading look. Sad, desperate, exhausted.

"It's just... I don't even know how to say it, but it's getting to me. It's so annoying how they talk about you. It drives me crazy."

"Why are you even so jealous? Who cares what they say?" Okay, maybe that last sentence came out a little too forceful. You can see Jisung recoiling. Now he just looks defeated. He sits down on his bunk bed with a heavy sigh.

"You're so amazing. Of course, other guys notice that as well. But hearing all of them say it over and over again kind of makes me insecure. Like, why would you want to be with me when all these other amazing guys want you as well? I'm just... jealous I guess. Of their talent and how amazing they are. And hearing them say how amazing you are is frightening. Because there are so many guys better than me. Guys that would make time to see you and sweep you off your feet. What if one of the more amazing guys comes along and just takes you away from me?"

"Oh Jisung...", you sit down next to him, gently wrap and arm around him and place your head on his shoulder. "You're such a big idiot."

"I'm sorry", he whispers into your hair. You can hear him sniffle a little but you pretend to have overheard it. He'd probably be even more upset if you were to see him cry right now.

"I know that this probably won't do much to change your mind right away, but I swear that I only have eyes for you. I don't care about any other guys. When they call me pretty it's annoying. I only want to hear it from you. I wanted to be with you, even though I knew you would not have a lot of time for dates and that things would be hard on both of us. But I-", you stop for a moment. You haven't really said this before. Neither of you has. But maybe now is just the right moment. "I love you, Jisung."

You can feel how his body goes stiff beside you for a moment. His breathing comes to a staggering halt. Then he relaxes again, wraps an arm around you as well to pull you close.

"I love you too. And I'm sorry for being dumb. I guess I just need some time to get used to this whole relationship thing. It's not like I doubt you, I just doubt myself sometimes."

"I get that. But you know, if anything I should be the insecure one."

"Huh? Why? You're amazing."

"But so are you. And you have all these fans screaming your name and almost fainting when they see you. And you also have all these other pretty and successful people around you all the time. And then there's me. But you picked me regardless. And I'm so happy that I get to be with you. Why would I ever want anyone else?"

Maybe Jisung needs a moment to think about that, at least he doesn't respond right away. But then that moment continues and when the silence is finally starting to make you nervous you raise your head a little to look at his face. You've never seen him smile like this before. So soft and full of adoration. You lean in almost on instinct. Jisung gently cups your face with his hands and when your lips meet for a soft touch you can feel how his smile moulds your lips into the crescent same shape.

[mx-chrx]

This is Chapter 2 (but honestly you can just start here if you want). 

Chapter 1 is here.

Summary: Jason will not let this happen again. He can't. But what if he's already too late?

__

Two weeks ago.

Up here, twelve stories into the air, the wind ripped across the rooftops mercilessly, yanking and pushing against everything in its path and willing them over the edge. Red Hood stood against it, unmoving. A few feet away, a man stared up at him, propped on his palms and drenched in sweat despite the chill in the air.

Hood squatted and pulled out a gun. “You see this? We’re gonna call this Option A. And that over there,” he said, pointing to the edge of the roof, “is gonna be Option B. Got it?”

The man didn’t respond. Hood continued anyway.

"The thing about Option B is that it’ll be quick. Gravity’ll do its thing and that’ll be the end of it. But Option A, on the other hand, well, that one’s really up to me. And I can be a little petty sometimes.”

“Y-you’re bluffing. You guys don’t kill people.”

“You guys?” Hood echoed.

“You’re part of B-Batman’s crew, right?”

Hood nearly laughed out loud. “You got it all wrong, pal. We do little team-ups now and then, but you’d be better off thinking of me more like a free agent. I have my own way of doing things.”

“No. I’ve seen what you all do. You don’t do stuff like this. I bet that’s not even a real–”

Hood fired the gun a few inches from one of the man’s splayed hands, sending up a small explosion of gravel. The man shrieked.

“Anything else?”

“Hood!” Nightwing demanded in his ear. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Working.”

“That’s not what it sounds like.”

“Then stop listening.” Hood redirected his attention to the man. “You have five seconds to tell me something interesting or the next shot’ll be a lot closer. Five.”

“I don’t know anything! I swear!”

“Four.”

“Please!” Snot and tears streamed down the man’s face, oozing onto the front of his stained wife beater. Hood’s face scrunched in disgust.

“Three.”

“Hood, stop!” Nightwing urged. He sounded like he was running. “Don’t do this!”

“Thought I told you to stop listening. Two.”

“I don’t know anything!”

The roof access door slammed open and Nightwing came sprinting out, barreling straight into him. The two of them tumbled across the gravel and Hood’s gun went flying.

“What the hell are you thinking!” Nightwing yelled, straddling Hood with his fists balled in the collar of his leather jacket.

“Get off!”

“Are you insane? How could you–” He stopped short as Hood’s fist came across his face and Hood used to momentum to break free and jump to his feet.

He looked around at the empty roof before running to the fire escape in time to watch the man drop into the alley and disappear around another corner.

Roaring a curse, Hood pulled off his helmet and threw it into the gravel as Nightwing got up slowly, a steady trickle of blood streaming from his nose and dripping off his chin.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “We’ll find him. We’ve already got eyes on all his usual haunts. Red Robin’s got his phone–” Nightwing let the rest of his sentence die as he took in Hood’s glare. They sized each other up for a while, the silence between them heavy and dark.

“That’s it?” Hood clarified. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I said I was sorry. What more do you want?”

“How about a damn explanation?”

“It was a miscalculation.”

“A miscalculation?” Hood laughed mirthlessly. “Really? Do you ever actually listen to the words that come out of your mouth?”

“What are you going for here exactly? A handwritten letter?”

“I want you to say it.” Hood started towards him slowly.

Nightwing held his ground, arms crossed. “Say what.”

“That real reason you came up here. It’s because you still don’t trust me. None of you do.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what the hell was that?” Hood demanded, throwing his arm wide. They were just a few feet apart now, and the wind had started to pick up again, whipping his jacket and Nightwing’s hair around as it carried their voices out over the city.

“I heard what was going on and I thought–”

“I know what you thought.”

“Can you blame me?” Finally Nightwing’s forced calm cracked; his voice rose to meet Jason’s, blood smeared across his mouth and cheek from where he’d rubbed his hand. “You said it yourself. You’re not one of us. A ‘free agent’ is what you called it, right?”

“Batman tackle you a lot while you were on your own, did he?”

“No. Then again, my ‘free agency’ didn’t rack up a body account. I was on my own, but we were still on the same side. We still had the same core beliefs. You– I don’t even think you know whose side you’re on half the time. You’re just in this for yourself.”

Hood took that square in the face. He swallowed before saying, “Just tell me this: If it really came down to it, everything on the line. Would you trust me?”

Nightwing glared at him for a moment before looking away, mouth in a hard line.

Hood scoffed and stooped to pick his helmet up off the ground. He searched for something to say, but came up empty, which was for the best, since his throat suddenly felt like a vice.

He slipped on the helmet and vaulted over the side of the roof onto the fire escape, swinging and jumping to skip levels on his way down. He lingered for a second at the ground level and glanced up at the roof, half-expecting to see Nightwing calling after him, or at least peering down.

He saw nothing.

He left.

____________

“You’re kidding, right?”

“That depends.”

“On?” There was no inflection in Dick’s voice as he blinked, eyebrow cocked, fingers resting over his laptop keyboard.

“Is it funny?” Tim prodded.

They were in the den at the manor and Tim was wearing a cheap Robin Boy Wonder costume with the tag still dangling off the mask. It was the original design complete with the elf shoes and green scaly underwear – thankfully pulled over compression shorts – and just looking at it dredged up incredibly awkward memories that Dick had spent many long years desperately trying to forget.

It was hard, though, since niche costume shops and super fans still dragged it back into the light every. Single. Year. Plus, no matter how much Dick begged, he still hadn’t been able to convince Bruce to get rid of the one he kept on display in the Cave.

It was like being caught in a never-ending loop of awkward middle school photos, except these photos included pointy shoes and shiny underwear.

“Halloween isn’t for another week,” Dick noted, ignoring the question. “And you’re not wearing that.”

“Why not? It’s funny!”

“It’s not.” It really was, but there was no way Dick was going to give Tim that satisfaction.

“I think it is,” Stephanie chimed from the couch she was stretched out on, her phone held over her face. “It’s like nostalgic and ironic at the same time. Ten outta ten costume, Tim.”

Tim beamed at her then tugged uncomfortably at the waistband of the tights. “So, did you design this or did Bruce? No judgment, but I do have some questions.”

Dick pursed his lips, trying to decide how best to launch himself from the chair and over the coffee table to get him in a headlock before the younger boy could escape. Tim was fast, but Dick’s legs were longer. He shifted his weight forward in his seat, closing his laptop and setting it aside.

As if sensing the looming threat, Tim circled behind Stephanie’s couch.

“You got a problem with the classics?” Dick asked.

“Let’s just say I’m glad mine had pants,” Tim hedged, then ducked as Dick, without warning, flung a book from the shelf at him.

“I second that.” Damian was flat on the carpet with a spread of pencils and kneaded erasers around an open sketchbook. His hands were black with charcoal and graphite, and he’d been quiet for so long Dick had forgotten he was even there. He nudged the boy’s ribs with his socked foot. Damian swatted him away.

Stephanie let her phone plop onto her stomach. “Okay, but you all have to admit that I had the nicest Robin suit by, like, a mile.”

Tim snorted, his chin propped on his arms folded along the back of the couch. She frowned up at him. “Is there a problem?”

“Only the fact that your suit was basically just a carbon copy of mine. No originality. No flavor.”

“You’re both wrong,” Damian said, brushing eraser shavings off his paper. “Clearly my suit is the superior model. The boots and gloves cover most of my legs and forearms, which provides added defenses for close range combat. And the hood decreases light interference and increases anonymity. It also looks cooler.”

“Um, hello,” Dick said. “You do realize I’m the reason you guys didn’t end up running around those freezing rooftops in tidy-whities. I was the original mastermind behind the pants look. You all should be thanking–”

“Bruce!” Stephanie shouted, sitting up. The entire room turned to where Bruce had stopped in the doorway, a protein bar halfway to his mouth and Cassandra at his side. He scanned the room with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, and Dick snickered as Tim crouched a bit lower behind the couch to hide his costume.

“Tell these jerks my Robin suit was the best one!” Stephanie demanded.

Damian threw a pillow at her head, and she deflected it towards Tim.

“Hey!” Tim complained, throwing it back down on her.

Then chaos. The room erupted in shouts and flying cushions. Bruce glanced at Cass and they shared an entire, wordless exchange before backing out and walking away.

After a few near-catastrophes involving three lamps, a vase, Dick’s laptop, and the TV, the sudden battle dissolved into breathless laughter.

“Okay, but seriously,” Dick said. “You’re not really wearing that to the party, are you?”

“Why not?” Tim asked, pulling off the mask.

“It just seems like an unnecessary risk. I mean, Robin? Really?”

“Ugh, you sound more and more like him every day.” Tim hopped over the back of the sofa, his butt landing directly on Stephanie’s stomach.

“Ow! Get off!” she shouted, shoving him so that he slid onto the floor, unbothered. He tilted his head back against the side of her leg, and as if by instinct, her fingers made their way into his hair as she returned her gaze to her phone.

“He does have a point, you know,” Steph noted. “You gotta loosen up or you’re gonna end up living alone under a mansion when you’re 40.”

Dick sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He knew he was being way too uptight, and he could already hear Babs’ mocking rebuke: Will you just relax and have fun? It would by all means be hypocritical coming from one of the biggest workaholics he knew – a title that was impressive to achieve in his circle – but she’d be right anyways. She usually was.

“So, what about the rest of you?” Dick finally asked, dropping his hand and trying to inject some levity into his voice. “What are you all going as?”

Stephanie and Tim grinned at each other; even Damian’s tight lips twitched into a smirk.

“Well, the thing is we kind of have a theme,” Tim began. “I’m Robin. First gen, obviously. Steph’s–”

“Red Robin,” she finished, grinning as she ruffled Tim’s hair a little harder. He leaned out of reach, grabbing her wrist and settling her hand back on his head.

“And I will be Father,” Damian announced. Dick couldn’t help but note the way his chin tipped a bit higher as he said it.

“Cass is gonna be Hood and Jason was supposed to be Black Bat, but he’s been MIA.”

Dick’s jaw tensed. None of them had heard from Jason in nearly a week. Not since their chat on the roof. No comms, no texts, not even a patrol sighting.

Dick had considered trying to reach out, maybe swinging by some of Jason’s safehouses in the city, but he wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and he knew that’s what it would almost certainly be. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would say even if they did see each other.

It had hurt, but he had meant every word of what he’d said. Hadn’t he…?

“He wouldn’t have done it anyway,” Stephanie said, sparing Dick from the mental rabbit hole he’d been about to fall into.

“He might’ve,” Tim grumbled, though there was no real conviction there.

“Not a chance.”

“Does Bruce know about this?” Dick asked, aborting the mental rabbit hole he felt himself teetering on.

“He thought was funny,” Tim said with a victorious grin.

Dick didn’t want to believe that, but it wasn’t hard for him to imagine Bruce smirking mischievously at the irony of it all.

“Okay,” he sighed. “So, what am I wearing to this thing?”

[lamiasluck]

Alrighty editing a story that should be fine for tomorrow uwu

Until then, I wanted to explain a lil about this world @alvie-ashgrove and I made, starting with the half I started out with; The Broken

You know how you make really edgy ocs when you’re younger (or maybe I was just in the creepypasta fandom)? Well, this is a revamped version of one of the big concepts my 13 year old self couldn’t do justice. But something that’s never changed is a silly lil mask like this:

Sorry it’s a big picture, and sorry for my weird drawings gfjhsdkgfj the Vibe is basically there. Now under the cut is more explanation uwu

General Information

What are they? Rules?

A large gang that has overrun a town (mostly male population)

A telling someone is in the gang is obvious; they all wear a white mask that's bound to chip/break as they fight

It's a loose community, meaning there's no criteria one needs to meet in order to join. They just need the mask and a fighting spirit

The mask, and it breaking, is a sign that a Broken has been in fights and survived

Aka, the more one's mask is broken, the more respect they're bound to get, as well as have stories to tell

In fighting is a thing, people want to chip each other's masks

Origins? Leadership?

No one is sure where the Broken originated from, much less the Broken themselves

Origins? Leadership?

Stories vary, but in general, people can assume the person that started the movement is dead

As it stands, members are content with staying in this one town as if it's inside knowledge to know this group, or an inclusive club of sorts

There's no leader. Like said before, it's not a close-knit group

Small friend groups are bound to happen, so the Broken stay to their own little cliques

If someone acts like they're better than everyone, they better be ready to prove it in combat

Understandably, most don't want to fight everyone in the town for the privilege of being a "leader." There's nothing to order around

Objectives?

No solid goal for the Broken

Committing crimes like murder or robbery isn't their objective

It's more like a "whatever happens, happens" attitude most have

They don't care about taking territory, either. Their town is fine to them

Overall, they want to seem stronger in the eyes of regular people

I'd compare them to a bunch of rowdy people wanting attention, juxtaposing them to their foil gang, the violent Marked

The Mask

Always starts off as a blank, white mask with eye holes

Made from a type of hard plastic (decently durable, but will break under a lot of stress)

The mask is able to shatter and dig into the skin, and many Broken do have face scars from their fights

If a mask is fully destroyed, the reaction one would have depends on the situation:

They fought so much and the mask becomes unusable; it's seen as honourable. They would get a new mask, but it's expected they keep something from their original for memories (ex. they use parts of it for a weird necklace or something)

A Marked destroyed it as a taunting remark; pure anger would result from that. The Broken would feel shame and try to get back at the person who did that

___________________

That’s the basics and what i have so far. It’s a very loose concept for story purposes lol

Who are the Marked? Well, they’re the foil to my group and much more violent. Like I really would consider the Broken as rowdy people wanting to rebel, but their foil is actually intense and means business. However, it’s not my group, it’s Alvie’s, so I won’t explain them unless I get some permission uwu

Then, where are my characters? I got all this explanation and that mask picture has a name attached so... who are my characters? Well, I have an idea how to introduce them, which I’ll work on after posting that story tomorrow (which doesn’t even have one of my Broken gfkjhsgj)

Also I am heavily leaning towards a certain “edgy feel” for the hell of it. I know it’s edgy and stuff dw gfkdshgfh If you, for some reason, find this as fun as I do and want to make your own lad, tell me! I will burst into tears (affectionately) but also love to hear about it gfjkhdsg

____________________

Sorry for the long post, here’s some tags:

@shy-marker-pliers​ @juju-on-that-yeet​ @verse2wo​ @emptynarration​ (I’m hesitant to to tag people on non ego related things, tell me if you want/don’t want to be tagged uwu)