#common people blaring in the background

[bottlesandbarricades]

We were truly robbed of a fun little Aemond and Criston peasant outfit-picking makeover montage

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[hisonlykiwi]

"stargazing"

synopsis: you cross paths with the infamous satoru gojo. according to everyone on campus, he is an egotistical, arrogant, reckless, man whore. but after a night out with satoru, he debunks what the rumors say and turns out you two have more in common than you thought.

paring: satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.4k

warnings: mentions of grief and death

a/n: i actually had so much fun writing about satoru, i'm planning on making this is series heheheh

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Your turn.” Utahime says, gently shaking your shoulder, interrupting you from your thoughts. You gaze over at the empty wine bottle sitting in the middle of your group of friends. God, what’s with college students and their love for spin the bottle?

You let out a huff in annoyance, “Actually guys, I’m going to go get a drink, I’m not in the mood.” You say, excusing yourself and getting up from the floor. “Booooooring!” You hear Choso say, you shoot him a glare and a middle finger to match.

Not bothering to respond, you exit out of the room and head downstairs. Not in the mood to deal with anyone. Should’ve never come to this stupid party, you thought to yourself. The music is getting louder the closer you approach the stairs, the party downstairs still lively as ever. The faint smell of weed and sweat lingering in the air.

To your luck, there’s a couple eating each other’s faces at the top of the stairs making it hard for anyone to pass them. “Excuse me.” You say, your voice falling short thanks to the blaring music. “Hello? I said excuse me.” You say to the couple. Again, no response. Another sigh escapes your lips, guess it’s a no on getting another drink.

If it was any other day, you would've probably just shoved them out of the way but today has just been fucking exhausting.  Somehow you let your best friend, Utahime, convince you to go to this house party to “take your mind off everything” and frankly, this party was only making everything worse. 

You walk away and wander the hallways of the house instead, it’s probably the biggest house you’ve ever been, to be honest. Who did Utahime say this house belonged to again? Was it Goto? Gejo? Godo? Gojo? Yeah, who knows but whoever it is, that man has exquisite taste.

You make your way over to a door at the end of the very long hallway, there were no people by this side of the house, and it was much quieter than where you were previously. Very much needed. The thought of having some peace and quiet brought some comfort to your aching chest.

To your surprise, the door farthest from the stairs and everyone was open, you made your way in. The room was decorated the same way as the rest of the house. Modern, clean, well decorated. You looked over to your right and spotted a balcony, perfect, you thought to yourself. 

You put your hand on the handle and opened the balcony door, the cool, night breeze hitting your face. It felt… nice. Completely opposite to how you were feeling on the inside. You closed the door behind, there was a table accompanied by two chairs and you decided to take a seat. The music was a distant hum in the background.

You took a deep breath and looked up to the night sky, the stars decorated across the dark sky. The stars were shining so beautifully but there was a particular star, bigger than the others, it almost seemed to be winking at you. You softly smiled to yourself and hugged yourself. 

It’s the 5-year anniversary of your baby sister’s accident and death. Grief is a funny thing; you think the pain is gone and then something as random as washing the dishes will set the emotions off again. You think you’ve moved on because years have passed but grief will keep reaching back and make you feel like drowning all over again and tonight felt like that. 

The lump you had been holding in your throat got bigger and heavier and before you knew it, a small sob escaped your lips and a cascade of tears started to come out. It never gets easier, does it? 

You felt a vibration go off in your pocket, a text from your best friend flashed on the screen of your phone.

Utahime: You okay?

You set the phone down on the table in front of you, not having the energy to text back at the moment. 

“Rough night?” You jumped at the sound of a man a few feet away. Your head felt so full of thoughts and emotions, you hadn’t realized someone had opened the balcony door. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” You say to the man, trying your best to wipe the tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “My apologies, I should’ve announced my presence a little louder.”  The stranger chuckled and put his hands up. You felt him walk towards you, “Here, take this.” You looked up to see the object in his hand, a simple white handkerchief. 

You carefully took the handkerchief from his hands and wiped the rest of your tears before looking back over at him. The stranger stood tall, his white hair illuminating beautifully against the moonlight. 

You let out a slight sniffle before saying “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else would be here. I just needed to get away from the party for a little.” He takes a seat across from you, “Yeah, tell me about it. There are too many insufferable people attending, anyway.” The stranger says whilst looking up at the night sky, just like how you were doing minutes before.

A silence fell upon you two as you stared at the man, unsure of what to say. His white hair was such a stunning contrast against the dark blue of the night and his bright baby blue eyes that reminded you of your favorite flower, the myosotis scorpioides. 

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” He said, looking back over at you and meeting your eyes. “Probably not, I hardly go to parties. I’m not sure why I thought tonight was any exception.” You respond to him with a small shrug of your shoulders.

He gives you a soft smile, “I assume the reason was due to peer pressure from people or your friends perhaps?” You stifle a small laugh at his spot-on assumption, “Ding Ding Ding!” His eyes crinkle in amusement and he chuckles slightly “I’m going to take that as a very strong, yes?” 

“You hit the hammer right on the nail, stranger. Were you dragged to the party too?” He looks at the star-littered night sky, the smile on his face never disappearing. “Something like that.” 

Despite his cheerful aura, you couldn’t help but think there was a hidden sadness to him. 

“How about you? Having a rough night too?” You ask him to cause him to let out a snort, “Rough night, rough day, rough life. This time of the year is always quite the hassle for me.” 

“God, tell me about it.” You say with a sigh, thinking of your baby sister. He nods in agreement, tilting his head back slightly and stretching his arms. 

“I’m Satoru, by the way, I don’t think I caught your name?” You say your first name to him, and Satoru cocks his head softly, studying you closely, taking in your features. “Pretty name, it suits you.” 

The loud ringing of your phone startled you, causing you to jump in your seat. You hear a small laugh come from Satoru’s direction. You playfully roll your eyes at him and see Utahime’s name flashed on the caller I.D. 

You: “Hello?” 

Utahime: “Finally! Are you okay? You ran off on us and never responded to my text.”

You: “Yeah, I’m okay, sorry I got caught up talking with a, uh, friend. I’ll come back in a bit.” 

Utahime: “Make it soon because you already missed out on Choso and Nanami smooching.” 

You: “No fucking way! I would’ve pay such good money to have seen that, are you kidding me? Please tell me someone took a picture.”

Utahime: “What kind of best friend do you think I am? You already know I did.”

You: “Of course you did but hey, I’ll text you when I’m on the way back, okay?”

You hung up the phone and apologized to Satoru for taking the call. I’m a friend, hmm?” Satoru smirked over at you. “Shut up, I didn’t know what else to say, I just learned your name two seconds ago.” You playfully respond, crossing your arms over your chest.

 “Well, since we're “friends” now, I believe it is only right for you to ditch this party with me.” He looks amused, “Ditch this party, huh? Now why would I do that?” You say, raising your eyebrows at him. “Because I’m craving something sweet and who else better to go with than with my new friend?” You looked at the time on your phone, “You want to drag me away from this party to go get sweets at… 1 AM?” 

He gives you a small hum and grins. What’s the worst thing that can happen? You’re already having the shittest of days, having a sweet treat with a stranger can’t hurt. After contemplating for a few seconds, you give him a smirk, “You make a hard bargain, Satoru. Lead the way.”

You put the handkerchief Satoru had given you in your pocket and follow behind him. “I’m going to assume you have a place in mind?” Satoru placed his hands in his pockets and continued leading the way out towards the party that was still happening downstairs. “You think I’m going to invite you out to eat and not have a place in mind? C’mon have a little faith in me.” 

His comment had earned a small laugh from you. You kept following close behind him, making sure to not lose him in the sea of people. Not like it’s possible anyway, hard to miss the tall guy with the remarkable white hair. 

You pulled out your phone really quick to shoot Utahime a quick text that you’re leaving. 

You: I’m leaving with a guy named Satoru to go get something to eat really quick. (:

You put the phone back in your pocket and see Satoru glancing back down at you, “Was that your best friend?” He asks, you give him a small nod. Before you realize it, you two have made it outside and you’re in front of a vehicle and a random man is opening the door for you and Satoru?

“Thanks, Ijichi” You hear Satoru say to the man. Satoru turns to you and moves out of the way to let you into the car first. “Thank you.” You say to the man, Ijichi, who was propping the door open for you, and he gives you a smile in return. 

Satoru follows in after you and takes a seat beside you. “You have your own personal driver?” You whisper to him, Satoru chuckles and tilts his head slightly to the side, glancing at you. “I do, it comes with being who I am, but please don’t think of me as some privileged brat.” You have confusion written all over your face, what is he talking about?

“Where to, Mr. Gojo?” You hear the man ask up front. Gojo? Who is Gojo? Satoru responds to him, naming a late-night diner a bunch of the college students from school like to hang out at after they’ve gotten hammered after a night out. Ah, that’s Gojo. You stop, feeling the wheels in your brain turning, wait Gojo? As in?

You felt a vibration coming from your phone and open your phone to see a text back from your best friend. 

Utahime: Satoru? You mean as in, Satoru Gojo? THE ultimate snobby, rich kid whose family owns this house Gojo??

Utahime’s text confirmed your suspicions, holy shit, that was Satoru’s house?

“Heyyy, I’m not snobby.” You hear Satoru playfully scoff beside you who was peering at your phone, “Rich? Filthy. Snobby? Nope.” He continued, popping the P. “Satoru!! That’s an invasion of privacy.” You whine, giving him a playful shove at his shoulder. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket, making a mental note to text your best friend back. “Not an invasion of privacy if your topic is me.” He gives you a sly smirk. You roll your eyes at his statement.

“Wait wait, let me get this straight, you’re the Gojo I keep hearing things about on campus?” You say, turning your body to face him. “In the flesh, sweetheart.” Satoru responds, he grins widely at the realization on your face. “I’m sure you heard all kinds of things, huh?” He continued, leaning back further in the seat of the car and spreading his legs slightly. Your legs and his almost touching.

You’ve heard so many stories about this Gojo guy, never caring to pay attention or learn who he was but couldn’t help but overhear all the bad stuff people would often say during class, in the library, in the hallways.

“Uh, I’ve heard a couple names being thrown around…?” You nervously say, unsure of how to tell him what you truly have heard. To name a few, Satoru Gojo has been described as a rich, egotistical, arrogant, reckless man whore whose family has given him everything on a silver platter.

He feigns surprise at your words and puts a hand on his chest, he looks at you with a mock-scandalized look. “You’re saying you have no idea how many nasty whispers and rumors there are about me? I’m basically the big bad wolf on campus.” He says in such a sarcastic manner. 

You give him a lighthearted laugh, “I try my best to not listen to the gossip that circles around at school but it’s hard to miss when everyone around you is whispering about the same guy over and over.” He chuckles at your response and crosses one leg over the other, he looks at you with an amused glint in his eyes, he's enjoying himself.

“I don’t even blame you; the rumors are impossible to miss. Believe me, I find it hilarious how absurd some of them can get.” He says with a grin. “It doesn’t bother you?” You curiously ask him, you can’t even fathom what it must be like being in his shoes. You’d probably never show your face in public ever again if you were him. 

“I’d be lying if I said it doesn't irritate me from time to time. It gets pretty annoying when everyone you talk to thinks they know everything about you. But you learn to ignore the majority of it.” He smiles slightly, “I’ve been surrounded by whispers and stares since I was a kid.”

Your heart can’t help but break for him, living a life surrounded in rumors and people talking down on you, cannot be easy but he seems to be doing very well. You reach out and put a hand on his knee and give it a small squeeze, “Despite all those people, you’re still here. You’re showing up and not ducking your head down at the nasty things people say about you. The universe knows if we were to switch places, I would move continents and change my name to never be seen again. You should be proud of yourself, Satoru.” You give him a small smile. 

Satoru's eyes soften and for a small moment he looks over at where you touched him. Something about your words and your gesture set off a warm feeling in his chest. He is quick to compose himself and throws you a smirk, to deflect the feeling that stirred within him. “Careful, I might start getting big headed if you keep complimenting me”

You throw your head back in laughter, “More than it already is?” You quickly respond. He chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. The natural conversation flowing between the both of you is a nice change from the people he interacts with others every day. 

“Well, I mean, we just met, you’re calling me your friend, you’re joining me on a night out and not to mention, you’re holding my knee.” You glanced down at your hand, forgetting you had left it there, quickly removing it and crossing your arms across your chest. A warm blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I was just being nice.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Satoru watches you for a few moments before he speaks, in a playful, mocking tone. “Aww, is somebody getting flustered? You look a bit red, sweetheart.”

You feel the car come to a complete stop, “You’ve arrived at your destination, Mr. Gojo.” Ijichi states. Thank the heavens above, this conversation was getting a little all too much. 

Satoru exited the car first and you couldn’t help but look at him and feel thankful. His presence is taking your mind off of her. Even though she was still there in the back of your mind… being in Satoru’s presence was comforting.

“Thank you for the ride, sir.” You thanked Satoru’s driver, Ijichi, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. You made your way out of the car, Satoru shutting the door behind you. 

You gaze over to Satoru who is looking down at you. At this angle, standing closer to him and looking up at him, he looks even taller. He put his hands in his pockets and gave you another smirk, “Shall we go, sweetheart?” You gave him a soft smile before sarcastically responding, “After you, “Mr. Gojo.” You say jokingly. 

He laughs in mock-annoyance at your sarcastic response, and he shakes his head, that familiar smirk still in place. “You’re insufferable. And here I am, trying to be a gentleman for you.” He walks ahead of you, following his lead, as he opens the door to the diner. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Gentleman.” You say, giving him a small wink. He lets out a bark of a laugh at your words, he shakes his head and steps inside after holding the door open for you. 

You both placed your orders, you opted for a simple side of French fries and a chocolate milkshake and Satoru a pizookie? You’ve been at the diner a hundred times and weren’t aware what that was or that they even sold them. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never had or heard of a pizookie.” Satoru stares at you in slight disbelief. “I know for a fact you are not acting as if pizookies are a vital part of life.” You say, giving him a deadpan look. “What is it anyways?” Curious as to what it is, it sounds like it wants to be a pizza and a cookie. 

“It is a big ass cookie with vanilla ice cream on top.” He says, you purse your lips in disappointment, “That’s it?” He clutches his chest as if someone had shot him letting out a big gasp, “That’s it?!” He repeats after you. “Pizookie means everything to me, don’t you dare talk down on her.” He half yells, causing some of the workers and some customers to look over at your table. 

You couldn’t hold in your laugh at his pathetic attempt of being mad. “Okay okay, I’m sorry for disrespecting the love of your life. Cross my heart it won’t happen again.” You joke, bowing your head down and putting a hand over your heart. 

Satoru squints his eyes at you with a mockingly unamused look on his face and he lets out a scoff before letting a smile break out on his face. He puts a hand on his chin and hums dramatically as if he’s contemplating if your apology was worthy enough “Hmm, that’s a good start. but I’m sorry to inform you that is not enough” 

Your mouth opens in shock, “What?! My apology was an award-winning apology. It would've had the prophets in awe.”

He crosses his arms, and he fakes disappointment at your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and scoffs at you. “Your ‘award winning apology’ was hardly up to my standards. I think you should apologize once more, and this time with more effort and sincerity” Satoru says with a sly smirk.

Just in time, the waiter brought out the food to your table and you both thanked them. Not breaking eye contact, you continue staring at each other, in some sort of staring contest. Without breaking eye contact he grabs the spoon and successfully puts a spoonful of pizookie in his mouth. He slowly chews the bite, and he looks at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying himself. He swallows the bite, “De-li-cious” he says, sounding out every syllable. 

You picked up a fry from your plate and threw it at him, the fry hitting his cheek. You both are holding back your laughter and Satoru manages to let out, “Excuse me? A fry was thrown at me?” Which was enough to let you both break out in a fit of giggles and laughter, warranting the looks of the people around you, once again, but you didn’t seem to care. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“Thank you for the meal.” You say to Satoru as he holds the door open for you. He glances down at you and gives you an amused smile, “Glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Should’ve believed me when I said pizookies are life changing.” You couldn’t help but let out a scoff at his words, not wanting to say anything to prove he was indeed right.

He steps outside behind you and looks up at the sky momentarily before looking back at you. “Walk with me?” Satoru asks and you give him a simple nod. You follow him and walk alongside him, matching your pace, his footsteps in sync with yours. 

You look up at the night sky, your baby sister crossing your mind once again for the millionth time that night. You let out a small sigh, it was nice being distracted and forgetting about her painful death even if it was just for a fleeting moment. 

Satoru gives you a sidelong glance as you walk in silence for a few brief minutes, a comfortable silence in the air. You sense him looking at you like he wants to say something, but he hesitates, wanting to choose the right moment to speak. 

“Ask.” You softly say to him, his eyes widen slightly and his lips twitch as he looks at you and looking away, clearly surprised that you read him like a book. He gives a small smile before saying, “I was just curious.” He looks at you, as you both walk side to side. You look up at him, letting him know it’s okay to continue.  

He hesitates for a moment before the words leave his mouth, “I’ve been wondering… why did you agree to join me out? I mean, not to sound cocky, but I doubt it was only for my charming personality.” You barked out a laugh at his last comment. 

You pondered your answer for a split second before answering truthfully, “To be honest, I was having a shit night, and you were kind enough to ask me out to have food with you. And I just kind of went along with it, spur of the moment kind of thing.” You gave him a small shrug. 

Satoru lets out a small hum and gives you a small smile, a curious look enters his eye. “Why were you out there anyway?” You tense up for a moment hoping he didn’t notice, “I told you, I was having a shit night and I, uh, could ask you the same thing?” You ask him, trying to dodge his question, scared that once you say the actual reasoning that the water works would start all over again.

He shoots you a sympathetic look as you speak, he seems to notice your change in demeanor, but he doesn’t mention it. “You want the truth?” He stops walking and shoves his hands into his pockets. “My best friend, my one and only best friend…” He cleared his throat before continuing, “It’s the week of his death anniversary.” 

Your heart dropped at his response; eyes widened slightly at his words. The timing of his delivery shocked you to say the least. That was not an answer you were expecting in any means. You take a second to compose yourself, unsure of what to say since you’re dealing with the exact same thing, surprisingly. You let out a small sigh, your tone much softer than it's been the entire night. 

“I-I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru. I shouldn’t have asked, my apologies.” You say to him, not realizing tears started falling to your cheeks. He gazed over at you, his eyes softened at the sight of your tears. You whipped your body around, not wanting Satoru to see you.

There was confusion etched on his face, unsure of what was happening. You started speaking, “I’m sorry, it’s just the timing of the situation.” You looked up at the sky, the bright star you saw earlier blinking at you, again. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “It’s just, uh, today marks the 5-year anniversary since my baby sister’s death…” You choke out a sob.

He stays silent for a moment, taken aback by your words. He didn’t expect that answer, if it was even a possibility at all. He feels a pang of sympathy and sadness form in his chest at your response, knowing the pain is a feeling he knows all too well. 

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, turning you around slowly. You and Satoru were now facing each other but you didn’t have the energy to look up at him. That’s when you felt his arms wrap around your frame, a sign of relief escaping your lips. 

Satoru held the back of your head with his hand. He knows he should say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what to say that would help either of you. 

You cried in his arms and hugged him tighter, his embrace being the only thing holding you together. It was unexpected but, in this moment, it was everything… 

You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, still standing close to him. Words seemed to fail as you peered up at him through your wet eyelashes. There were tears in his eyes, threatening to fall on his pale cheeks. You both looked at each other, one look saying more than a thousand words. There was a mutual understanding there. He understood your pain and you understood his. 

Satoru breaks the silence, “Today fucking sucked, didn’t it?” You let out a soft chuckle causing a few more tears to spill, “One could definitely say that… but meeting you wasn’t so sucky.” He smiled softly at your words.

[hunnybeemarie]

@jegulus-microfic - June 7: Welcome- words-361

James was dancing with his arms up in the air, swaying with his friends in the Gryffindor common room. The music was blaring and the room was packed. Everyone was singing, dancing, drinking, sweating. Laughter rang through the room, conversation swelled in the background. It was the first party of the year and it was living up to the marauders’ reputation. James heaved a happy sigh, bringing his arms down to fan himself with his hands.

“It’s so hot in here!” He shouted to Sirius over the music. “I’m going to get a drink.”

Sirius nodded and turned to throw his arms around Remus. James walked to the tables across the room filled with drinks and snacks. He grabbed a colorful drink with lots of ice and chugged half of it down. He leaned against the wall and took some deep breaths, pressing the cool glass to his forehead. He looked to the opposite side of the room and saw Peter and Pandora on the couch, drunkenly twirling their fingers above their heads to the music. James shook his head with a laugh. Bringing his cup back to his lips, his eyes flicked to the door as more people came in. The group started to pass him and James choked, spilling bright blue liquid onto his shirt.

Regulus Black turned towards the sound and gave him a once over.

“Welcome!” James spluttered, practically shouting. He winced, knowing his brain would play this moment over and over later to torment him.

Regulus snorted and walked into the party. “Ok, Potter.”

James watched him go with his mouth hanging open slightly. He hadn't seen Reg since last year and he was pretty sure he hadn't looked like that back then. James was a little breathless, still standing there frozen. Suddenly Sirius was by his side, shaking his shoulders.

“Whatcha starin at?” Sirius asked, looking around. “And what the hell is all over you?” He laughed incredulously.

Sirius grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back out to dance without waiting for an answer. James looked at his best friend, glanced back at Regulus, and looked at Sirius again.

“Well shit,” he murmured.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

my reactions to episode 6 of season 2 of criminal minds evolution

spoilers under the cut!

the alarms blaring and dead people everywhere just reminds me of the way "Saturday" begins

Okay I thought this was real until I saw Luke shot and half dead on the floor. Yay for Tara being so concerned though, TarVez besties canon!!

Okay when they said we'd hear prentiss singing, this is NOT what i had in mind

JESUS christ wtf is this

Aww I love seeing Penelope take care of her friends

Luke and Penelope being beside each other in a frame 🥰 getting my garvez crumbs where i can

Tara Lewis you are SO pretty

Penelope knowing her dad is at the end of his rope and being SO patient with him 😂😂 (also, luke, i see you staring at her)

Is Rossi about to have a fucking breakdown in the middle of the BAU?? I can't handle that

Luke following Penelope into her office YESSSSS

Oops i guess not. that's jj.

Penelope there is one person on this team i can understand you struggling to look at... JJ isn't them. what's going on?

"It's between beige and bad kissing" well penelope i feel like if you got with a certain someone you'd never have to deal with that again

JJ reading her besties to shit. I love my OG BAU girls

Penelope you are NOT ALLOWED TO BE JEALOUS

tyler's ex is so pretty tho

Luke wipe that smirk off your face 😂

"Even more awkward than you working with Tyler is him working with me" Luke do you HEAR yourself??? You are outing yourself and your feelings even more. You are ADMITTING your jealousy

"Luke we need you in here" not even TWO SECONDS LATER i knew it was coming but it's still funny

PENELOPE GARCIA DID YOU JUST TOUCH HIS ARM????

Penelope's "oh" upon finding out who teresa is. this is just a group of exes up in here

Tara 🤝 Emily wives calling Dave out for not going to therapy

Soft Tara and Dave!! I love them.

ROSSI WORDLESSLY REACHING OUT FOR TARA'S HAND I AM IN SHAMBLES

JJ sneaking a cheeto 😂 i'm glad there are SOME consistencies in this show

High Emily is just Paget

Emily is so right about salt and vinegar chips. They're the BEST.

Does a picture of sergio in the background count for my sergio square on my bingo card?

Tara and Emily having the same middle name canon

"I didn't know super hot latina was your type" Well, Penelope, now you have something in common

TYLER setting boundaries i love to see it.

Mutual airing of exes... now i wonder if she brought Luke up or hid that particular detail

Wait shit I was half joking in my fic when I said tyler was still in love with teresa, but if he fr is i will be so happy and rooting for them

luke having to ask the ex of the ex of the love of his life what the story is with her and said ex

"I had a thing for army guys" NO NO NO IF THEY TRY TO MAKE TERESA AND LUKE A THING I WILL FLIP

luke's heart eyes watching penelope's presentation

oh she's calling tyler OUTTTTTT

"81% of stalking victims are stalked by someone they know." Two things. 1. Love Luke getting his Spencer Reid moments and getting to be smart. 2. THIS IS A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT ALEXEI STANOVICH AT SOME POINT

"sticky chemistry that is in the room between us all" means Penelope is acknowledging the her and luke stuff as well

LESS awkward to do boys with boys and girls with girls??? Penelope are you KIDDING???

"that's the less awkward option?" tyler i feel you

Luke's face is like "babe are you KIDDING i just told you me working with him is so awkward"

"For me and Teresa it is" icon

Tyler HAS to know that there is something Garvezy happening, because he and Luke seem to be the only people grasping the true awkwardness of this situation

oh so this is NOT emily's first time high. Temily writers i would like fics about them getting high together please and thank you

"I'm quitting" fucking LIES you won't leave them like that

WEED LACED CHEETOS??? DO THOSE REALLY EXIST???? god poor jj

"now being around him i know he's over me because i don't feel it anymore" i know penelope's ensuing awkwardness is supposed to be because she DOES still feel it with tyler or whatever, but i'm choosing to believe it actually has her thinking about Luke

"a list of everyone you've ever made angry" luke babes you are going to be at the TOP of that list

okay i have been WAITING for this tyler/luke fight

oh tyler did NOT use luke being a ranger against him

wtaf is this conversation. i'm living for it but it's WEIRD

HAHA voit's rossi impression

Bailey mention!!

Hate to see Rossi struggling. But I have to admit Voit's manipulation of him is so well done

Morgan AND Hotch mention. When's the last time we got a Morgan mention???

So they're finally talking about BAU-gate... and they're high. lovely.

The way Luke says "Penelope Garcia" and cannot even stop himself from smiling

omg luke finally speaking spanish!! (@lklvz how're you coping?)

Luke's grandmother mention!!

ugh they're so gonna try to make luke and teresa a thing. aren't they.

OH WHAT THE FUCK. TERESA CALLING LUKE TF OUT FOR BEING A PENELOPE SIMP WAS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

OH MY GOD HE ACTUALLY JUST SAID HE LOVES HER

Also, Luke, wdym Penelope knows??? Bc i ASSURE you she does not

"it was a hard pass for both of us" LIES

noooooooooooooooooooo how did we go from something SO GARVEZ to teresa essentially asking him out? Lady he just said he's in love with someone else this will not go well for you

what is this video game conversation

maybe i'm just tired but i do NOT get what voit is alluding to with north star and stuart house

Tyler this feels kinda stupid

if i had a nickle for every time luke saved tyler's life, i'd have two nickles. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice, right?

Luke and Tyler friendship arc???

okay. Jemilys, how are y'all doing? I might not get you, I might not be one of you, but I know you're losing it

OH EMILY KNOWS ABOUT THE MISCARRIAGE I'M SOBBING

If Teresa asks Luke out in front of Penelope i will SCREAM

So Penelope definitely thinks Luke/Teresa is a thing but I'm pretty sure that howl was her telling Luke to be brave and tell Penelope he loves her

oh THIS is where Jill comes in. I keep forgetting about her.

ahhh this was so good

[forjustice]

"GRRRRRRRRRRETINGS, STARDUSTS! Are you ready for the third season of Secrets from the Stars? Oh, I'm so excited!"

The announcer's voice blares from the TV screen as Hikari flops down on the couch in her hideout, cradling the Charcadet egg she got from Ashe in her arms. She watches as the hostess lays out the rules--and smirks. So, contestants are to tell their dirtiest secrets on this show, and the juiciest one wins? Well, she can't enter because none of her worst secrets are PG-13, but...

"Everyone has a secret or two," she tells the egg; she knows Pokémon eggs like being talked to. "You will too when you grow up. You might even hide them from me! I wonder what the hostess of this show would think of my secret. Do you want to know what it is?"

The egg warms to her voice, and she gives a twisted little grin.

"So there's this big, vast expanse of information and connection in the world that we call the Internet. Through the Internet, we can play games, read books, watch videos and even talk to people. I like talking to people on the Internet. It's fun because unless you really like and trust them, no one has to know who you are. But it can also be real shit sometimes, because people can be assholes and think they can get away with it 'cause no one knows who they are. Well, the asshole I'll tell you about in this story wasn't so lucky...

"I had this really good friend I met on the Internet named Gracia. We've known each other and we've always wanted to meet, but we didn't do so until after my journey through Sinnoh. We had so much in common--we were both Yumean, we both were in all the same fandoms, we both loved to write and draw, and dare I say we even had crushes on each other. We were so much alike, we had all the same mental illnesses!"

The smile fades from her face as she remembers a particularly difficult time.

[suicide & murder mentions]

"Sometimes, when someone's life is tough, they don't want to live anymore. This can happen quite often with people who are mentally ill, and sometimes, they take their own lives. I remember one night when I was tired from having had only three hours of sleep and about to go to bed, and Gracia messaged me saying that after a fight with her parents she didn't see an end to how they'd disrespect her and she was going to end it that night. I knew then I had two choices: either put myself first, give her the number of a hotline and call it a night, or stay up with her until I knew she was going to be safe. I did the latter. I stayed up until 3 AM talking to her, calming her, reminding her of all the good things we shared that she could live for...And I didn't stop until she told me she was no longer going to kill herself. I saved her life that night. And do you know how she repaid me?"

Even the unborn embryo knows the answer wouldn't be good.

"She replaced me with someone who'd bullied us BOTH."

The commercial for Secrets from the Stars has long since ended. With the drone of the TV channel's main program in the background, Hikari completes her horrid tale.

"I couldn't believe it. Her actions told me she thought that night we shared was worth nothing. That she valued someone who hurt her in a way she'd previously said she couldn't forgive over someone who had only ever done right by her. But you know what? I decided that if she was going to completely disregard the fact she owed her life to me, she didn't deserve to live. I still had her address saved from the times I'd sent gifts to her, so I knew where she lived. And since I knew all her fandom interests, I had a good bet that she'd be showing up to the Game Freak store for the release of a new game we'd both been looking forward to--and I knew that place would be crowded. So you know what I did? I went to the Game Freak store in her area on release day, I found her in the crowd without her seeing me, and when everyone rushed into the building I pushed her down so she'd be trampled to death. No one ever even suspected foul play--let alone suspected me. And since I'm not stupid enough to do what that lady suggested and say something illegal on that gossip show, no one ever will."

Hikari turns the TV off, letting the end of the story hang in the air with its grim finality. The egg in her arms grows cold, as though it were left outside on a cold winter day. She glances down at the unborn hatchling, her expression mildly concerned as she sees a dark swirl appear in the center of the egg, growing bigger for a few brief seconds before shrinking again. When it disappears, she strokes the shell, finding it to be just as warm as before--and finding an unexpected message radiating from within.

I will take your burdens now, it seems to say. Be at peace. Be at peace.

Without thinking she holds the egg a little tighter, and as she does, she feels the tension in her shoulders relax and sees the Charcadet reds on the shell become tinged with the dark blues of a Ceruledge--a well-known devourer of grudges. Gracia and her betrayal seem so distant now, as though Hikari has aged to that golden fortieth year in which all the troubles of youth dissolve like morning mist...

She stands, and places a kiss on the egg when she puts it back into its fireplace nest.

She didn't ask for it to help heal her anger--but she didn't say no to it, either.

[purkinje-effect]

https://www.tumblr.com/purkinje-effect/752500796672950272/hewwo-are-you-by-chance-a-trans-mantrans?source=share

This anon again. Currently just trying to so a one shot NSFT fif right mow(but also working on his background and stuff as well. He's an Fallout and also Elder Scrolls OC as well if that helps).

But now I also feel weird about it too because one I am cis and too I feel like i'ma accidentally be fetishy. 😭😭😭😭 but like I wanna do NSFT stuff for him. *also note and not to sound like a Who*re but he be HOT!*

It's not inherently fetishistic to think trans people are hot, anon. Trans people can be hot, not just in spite of their physiology, but because of it. As you're telling me yourself, both cis and trans people can think trans people are attractive. ;)

People outside minorities are totally able to create fiction and art that reflects those minorities.

If you're talking writing smut for this guy, I think the one tip I can offer--besides just do it! Be self indulgent and appreciate your OC to his fullest ;)--is to try to familiarize yourself with some of the more common ways trans people tend to refer to themselves sexually. Research by reading some transmasc NSFW fics and take in the vocabulary. (Yes... "research." I swear it'll be of benefit.) In addition to the variation of physiology that a transmasc individual can have, there's also a lot of variation to self-perception and comfort levels in terms of what a guy might be comfortable with doing sexually, under what contexts, and he might refer to his anatomy in more personal ways.

Listening to transmasc voices on humanistic trans rep isn't just talking with transmasc folks: it's taking in their art/fics and seeing how it incorporates trans identity. Sometimes it's subtle and deeply metaphorical. Sometimes it's blaring. But it's frequently interwoven in trans folks' works.

You have my encouragement and endorsement, anon. Get that guy laid. <3

[kquil]

REQUEST. : 🧁-5’8” cis girl, blonde hair, blue eyes, from the middle of nowhere. I’m a three sport athlete(track, Basketball, Volleyball), but also love reading and puzzles. I’m not much of a morning person, animals, am mostly social with those I know well, when I have to energy to give. I love dirt roads, supporting teammates, friends, other contact sports(football, soccer), and blaring music, but also rain and mellow nights at home. I riden horses(western style), roped and worked cattle all my life. I tend to lean toward chaotic, but organization P.S- even though I’ve only just found your account, I love your writing, and you seem like an amazing person ⏤ @cychurro

that’s so sweet of you to say! thank you for enjoying my writing and for thinking highly of me, i’ll continue to do my best and honour your words well ٩( ^ᴗ^ )۶

and from what you’ve described to me, i ship you with James Potter! for the sake of this scenario, you’re in gryffindor ;) 

i. since you’re quite athletic, you naturally make it onto the quidditch team but since you’re not an early morning person, you get to quidditch practice just in time (nearly almost late) and grumpy, which rubs james the wrong way, especially because he’s all about team spirit and putting your best foot forward for the time. seeing your behaviour was not, in his eyes, you putting your best foot forward for the team. nevertheless, he couldn’t deny that you were a good player, although, this made his tongue charper with you than with any other individual so the two of you quickly grew a rivalry on the pitch. this rivalry, somewhat, benefitted the team however, as you’d both compete with each other to score the most goals without abdicating the team’s overall performance in matches, especially official ones. 

ii. eventually, james became captain and that was the start of torture for you. you had competed against him for the position but ultimately, lost. james made for a good captain, however, it just didn’t help that he was extra hard on you for your usual slowness in the morning. you’ve heard some of your teammates vouch for your dislike for early mornings but james is strict on the schedule, eager to play all the matches well and win the end of year cup. he knows and can see your potential so it was infuriating to him that you would let such potential go to waste. after some time, however, he slowly began admitting to himself that he had grown fond of your grumpy morning attitude and sleepy appearance, it’s quite an adorable look on you…

iii. when its the weekend, you’ve become quite famous for blasting music in your dorm room for most parts of the day when you didn’t have the energy to interact with other people but did have the energy to listen to all of your favourite songs on repeat. sometimes, james, as head boy, has had to ask you to turn down the music but, for the most part, many of the gryffindor students enjoyed your music in the background and have grown a liking to most of your songs. 

iv. on one particular official match against ravenclaw, you managed to get a nasty hit by a bludger and needed to be tended in the hospital wing. james wanted to take you there himself but you pushed him to carry the team to victory and have someone else sub in for you. it took some convincing but james finally relented, “I promise we’ll win this for you, okay?” james promised with determined eyes and a fixed stare on you. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter. “i’ll be cheering for you captain,” you say good naturedly before being escorted away. needless to say, gryffindor won against ravenclaw by a landslide that day and you couldn’t be prouder. when the gryffindor after party celebration was being held in the common room, james was nowhere to be found; he was at your bedside the entire time. 

v. gradually, you and james started talking outside of quidditch and you introduce him to all the muggle sports you enjoy and love. you explain the rules to him and smile at the fascination the swells in his eyes. so it was only natural that you invite james over for the summer to indulge in all your favourite sports, whether it’s by playing it together or watching games at a stadium. You’ve even worked him through a day’s work on the farm, herding cattle and getting used to the horses so that he could go horse riding with you. As a quidditch player, he was a natural and he quickly grew to love horse riding on the dirt paths around the farm land with you. it was a very eventful summer. one that started with lots of learning, was filled with adventures and fond memories before ending in a sweet, spontaneous kiss under the cool evening summer sun, setting behind the horizon. 

vi. back in school again, you and james continue the routine of back and forth in the early morning chill of quidditch practice but there has been a noticeable shift in the tone of your comebacks. the team thought you two were acting odd but the usual light bickering escalated into a kiss that wasn’t expected and their suspicions were immediately confirmed. “It’s about time!” one teammate calls out as the others whistle with amused brows. “Sod off before I give you extra laps!” james shouts back, earning a belly of laughter before it was back on the pitch for drills and practising manoeuvres. 

vii. honourable mention, i also, lowkey ship you with remus lupin. it’s your shared love for reading and puzzles that bring you together first before remus grows a love for the outdoors and several sports under your influence. you also introduce him to horse-back riding and he adores it. he adores it even more when you two aren’t playfully racing around and merely taking the horses for a walk in the wilderness with a picnic packed away and books for you two to read together on a picnic in the forest where there’s a sunny spot. 

[rusty-clockworks]

Two Hallmark Christmas movie “Bad Guys” Fall in love

Two Business men meet in a departure lounge after their girlfriends run off with small town lads right on Christmas Eve, where the find love in each other after their unlucky day.

Or

I found this idea on another Tumblr post and proceeded to spend my morning listening to hallmark Christmas songs and writing a gay hallmark Christmas movie fanfic instead of doing something productive.

Original post idea: Hallmark Christmas Bad Guys are actually really respectful

———————————

The Airport buzzed with excitement as families moved about ready to get on their flight in the Christmas Eve rush. Waves of chatter bounced around the crowded departure lounge, contesting for volume over the classic  “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” blaring over the cheap speakers. Lights and tinsel adorned the walls giving a nice backdrop to the medium size Christmas tree in the corner, surrounded by empty boxes wrapped in cheap wrapping paper to give the allusion of presents. It was a nice toasty warm in the room, a steep contrast to the frigid wind and snow of outside.

An announcement cut through the holiday cheer “We’re sorry to announce that the New York flight has been postponed due to to bad weather, we apologise for any inc-“

“Ah common!” Yelled the man next to me, startling a few people. He noticed me staring and gave a quick “sorry”. I watched as he slumped back over and rested his head on his hand. He was well dressed: a dark woollen suit with a matching scarf and had a suitcase similar to mine. He had a defeated resigned look on his face that mirrored how I felt.

“Guessing your holidays haven’t been too great?” I pried, turning a bit in the stiff cushioned chair.

He glanced at me. “Awful,” was his response.

“I feel ya,” I sighed. We sat in a gloomy silence for a few seconds before the man’s frustrations won out.

“My fiancée, Amanda, just broke up with me today, to be with some baker trying to save his family business that she only meet a couple of days ago! I was going to propose to her tonight after I finished work but obviously that’s not happening. And now my flights been delayed!” he vented, throwing his hands up for emphasise.

I nodded before sharing my own grievances, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I just found out my girlfriend of 3 years cheated on me to be with some hunking dude who turned out to be a prince of a country I’ve never even heard of before. Like, how am I supposed to compete with that!”

He hummed in agreement, turning a bit to match my position. “So I guess we’re both unlucky in love.”

“I guess,” I agreed flatly.

He though for a moment. “At least we can can be unlucky together,” he suggested.

I chuffed in amusement and reached out my hand, “Bill.”

He shook it firmly with a warm hand, “Dylan.”

I smiled, “Dylan. That’s a nice name.”

“Ha, I guess,” he replied, blushing, before pausing and saying thoughtfully, “Bill is nice too.”

We sat in slightly less dense silence for a few more moments, listening to the new song on the speakers. It had changed to “Jingle Bells”. “So what flight are you heading on,” Dylan asked suddenly.

When I told him it was to New York, Dylan chuckled, “We might be a while.”

I joined him in his amusement. “Indeed.”

Announcements played in the background along with more Christmas jingles, as people came and went. The two strangers talked till they were no longer strangers, when it was announced their flight was to be ready to be boarded. “Tell you what,” said Dylan, “I’ll give you my number, and you ring me when we land, that way we can spend Christmas together. Two lonely dudes hanging out?” I eagerly agreed and we swapped numbers, getting ready to depart for the gates.

“See you around, Dylan” I said as he wandered into the crowd of people and bright decorations.

He turned and waved, “Merry Christmas!”

The holiday didn’t turn out so bad after all.

[transmissionsfromthebattlefield]

“Take My Word For It”

Thank god for classes starting up again so that I can pivot my screen time away from people making me lose faith in humanity and towards PDFs of textbooks. The weather is hot and the AC in the library is pumping. Kent State once again brims with life. I tabled at our freshman orientation club fair yesterday—so many little babies, yet over half of the girls seem to be taller than me. (Thanks, genetics.) It really does make my heart swell to be back, though. I am SO pumped.

Aside from classes and Task Force and all my friends and the best burritos in the world, I’m also very excited for the return to basic principles of human interaction. I’ve been people watching a lot online lately. Too much, in fact, and I need to stop. But the emotions and the news are pertinent, and they must be processed. I’ve been seeing a lot of exchanges online lately that are basically negative recommendations. Someone says they don’t care for something for whatever streamlined reason, and someone else agrees with zero visible actual external research on the subject. Asking for recommendations nowadays always has to come with some disclaimer. Disclaimers have become a big part of internet culture in general, and it’s a real shame. Weighing positives and negatives after even just a simple article or two or accepting that a friend likes whatever seems to be a thing of the past, in the digital sphere at least, in favor of following a herd to keep those whom we perceive as our friends or want to be our friends with. Have conspiracy theorists tainted the concept of “doing one’s own research”? Or maybe COVID as a whole wrecked us—we got so used to isolating ourselves from absolutely everyone that it has become second nature to shun anything deemed hypercharged bad buzzword, or alternatively “slime”. It didn’t even take a generation.

You might as well be taking somebody’s world for it, not just their word—one must be in to-tall alignment with the politikal perspektives of their frendos, or else we might have an astrologist’s worst nightmare on a self-worth scale: the planets are out of wack! I’m an idiosyncronous, imperfect ball of flesh on the same planet as many more of the same despite their abject differences from me! Help!

My anxious psyche leads me to distrust humans in general, but I think society has gone too far in its stagnant polarization. We bitch and we fight, to quote crappy post-Roger Waters Pink Floyd (most society as it currently stands is basically “Learning To Fly” on repeat blaring very loud in my ears, I think), and most of the time it’s about how we perceive the influence and morals of actively powerful forces in the world. You can have a great, insightful, constructive conversation about that. But we resort to stereotype and self preservation. And as those gears keep on churning in the background, as they always do and always will, we get nothing done. We forget that we have more in common with one another than we think, while preaching that same concept. But how much do we truly believe the preprogrammed responses we’ve taught ourselves to repeat?

Do we really want a free exchange of ideas, or do we crave that overtone addendum, “but only if they’re the right ones”? Do we even want to be right, or do we always need some abstract, accessible boogeyman to jab at while the powers that be pulling the strings only grow stronger? Do we want to grow stronger ourselves to someday defeat them, or do we succumb to the overwhelming complexity of the world at large and retreat to where we feel safest? Do we seek change, or do we only call for it, not work towards it? We praise the sacrifice of others, but how comfortable would we be with sacrificing ourselves—in any capacity—for the same cause?

Yet when you meet people in person, even these people, they laugh. They actually have senses of humor. They invite, most of the time. And if they repel, they repel. The intention becomes obvious. The experience can be learned from. Another side comes into view, separate from the PR-primed pop star we all fashion ourselves to be, secretly. The blood and guts are there to spill. The humanity is on full display.

And that’s why a damn good conversation beats nameless, faceless, face full of constructed ideological perfection protection any day of the week, regardless of whether or not class is in session.

[uselessboss]

A Path We Walk Together(2/3)

Deep breaths.

He was undeniably nervous. It has been a while since he last went to an outing. Years in fact as the only one he ever went was his first, and last one as well.

They weren’t a bad group of people. They were nice, easygoing and had no ill intentions when they invited him to hang out. It was just them trying to be friendly.

The issue really relied entirely on him.

Things like smoking, drinking, frequenting bars until dawn while music blared in the background and dancing among strangers... It’s an interest he didn’t share with his peers.

They didn’t mock him or shame him for not sharing their interests but he could clearly tell how awkward he made everyone feel with his poorly unconcealed discomfort. He was always bad at faking things like that and it made him feel even worse the more they tried and the more he failed to connect with them.

“Wow look at that person, very eye catching don’t you think?”

“Do you have any type Wolf-boy?”

The topic of relationships, dating, and attraction to other people was something that came up quite a lot.

“I... Don’t think so”

“Nothing? Really? Or is it dating something you feel it’s not for you?”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t really have anything against it”

He didn’t dislike the idea of being in a relationship. To be drawn towards someone's qualities and being able to appreciate and cherish them sounded like a wonderful thing.

It wasn’t a problem of lack of interest, but more so his inability to do so in general. He didn’t know what he wanted from people or what kind of companionship he sought out.

He couldn’t stand the disconnection.

It was why he refused every single invitation later on. Because of the fear of messing up, of souring the mood and ruining everything for others. In the end he isolated himself.

He touched his reflection on the mirror.

Back then he always had a constant irritated look on his face, always frowning, terrribly uncomfortable and very hostile. The kind that kept everyone away.

Now his features looked softer, kinder, gentle.

Happier.

His life really took an unexpected turn ever since he met her.

Who would have thought that the person he had deigned as foul and immoral at first was the one to teach him the meaning of kindness and empathy? To be the one that seemed to understand and accept him the most?

His cellphone rang with a new message.

‘Meet us at this address, but don’t look up what it is, we want to see your reaction’ -Andrews sent.

Hunter chuckled at that.

Another unexpected surprise was how he and Andrews became good friends.

He didn’t think he would have got along with him either. Andrews was very extroverted, a “people’s person”, the type of person he usually had the least in common with.

It was another thing he had been very wrong about.

Despite his carefree and easy-going nature Andrews knew when to be serious. He was as much of a dedicated hard-worker as he was and very reliable, specially in social situations. It was impressive how Andrews had the ability to fill any silence, to make any conversation flow easily and make it work. He seriously looked up to the guy.

It was reassuring to have these two there for him and also why he agreed to their invitation. Because he knew that even if he somehow messed something up things would work out thanks to them.

He took another deep breath to steel himself and walked outside.

“A PaintBall Match?” Hunter blinked.

“Did it surprise you?” Andrews grinned, snapping a picture, no doubt finding his surprised face hilarious.

“We thought it would be a good way to starts things up, something that we three would be familiar with” Miller explained with a wink. “Althrough I might be a bit rusty with that”

“Ah that’s ok dear partner” Andrews grinned, mischiveous as he put an arm around Hunter in a complicity way. “Today me and Hunter are going to team up to take you down!”

“Wait. What?” Both Miller and Hunter spoke in unisson.

"Look, Miller would beat both of us in seconds if this was a “melee à trois”, so let’s make this a game of “catch” where we both try to get her”

“But... Wouldn’t that be unfair?”

“You are right” Andrews nods “We would need our entire unit to be fair, but I’m not paying for that so we have to make do with only the two of us”

Andrews might have said that as a joke, but at the same time it was very much not a joke.

He only saw small glimpses of it as they had to be more focused on the mission and danger at hand while on the field, but now that they were in an environment where she could go all out and he could take everything in properly he had to say...

Miller was indeed something else.

He had always wondered how his skills compared to hers but he was clearly beaten.

She was nimble, fast and so incredibly agile! He and Andrews came at her with everything they got (and Andrews was pretty skilled on his own too) but despite their best efforts she dodged everything they threw at her.

“Time’s up!”

“Awwww I thought we could pull it off” Andrews deflated. “Damn, you are way too strong partner, you make us look like peasants”

“What are you saying Andrews, you both are super strong” Miller took of her helmet, shaking her hair off. “It was pretty nice to see you go all out, no other human could match what you did in this match”

“Boooh you are trying to be nice”

“Well” Hunter cut, coughing. “Maybe we did it?”

He pointed at the side of Miller’s leg, where a small splatter of paint, barely a speckle stood among the black protection.

“Oh? I’m pretty sure I evaded all hits. How this thing ended up here?” Miller looked at it with interest.

“The paint must have bounced off on one of the walls” he explained. “If this was a real shot you could say... It was a ricocheted shot...?”

Hunter felt himself flush.

That was a very sad and lame attempt at doing a witty remark. 

He was so embarrassingly bad at making jokes and quips.

“Andrews, wasn’t Hunter that landed the shot?” Miller grinned, amused.

“Hey, I played an important part on this feat!”

“Which is?”

“I distracted you! Being a live bait is a tough job you know?”

Their laughs echoed in the air.

Hunter didn’t remember the last time he laughed so much, or had this much fun.

He always worked hard and put a lot of thought and efffort in everything he did. If he ever attempted to better his results then it was more out of sense of trying to improve himself than anything. He wasn’t really competitive and didn’t care much to compare himself with others in a contest of pride.

This was the first time he felt like showing off.

“My Fucking God you two are merciless” Andrews dramatically cumpled on the chair.

The results were him in first place, Miller in second and Andrews in third.

“You two are not human” Andrews whined, “You make me look like an out of shape middle aged man having a mid-life crisis!”

“That’s... Oddly specific and descriptive Andrews”

“Ok, ok, time out you two” Andrews pouted. “This is my turn to rig the game in my favor, I’m picking what we do next”

“Andrews you don’t need to say the last part out loud”

“It’s a giant chess! Cool right?” Andrews smiled smugly. “I can’t even dream to beat you two in any physical activities so a battle of wits it is!”

“Are you calling us dumb dear partner?” Miller feigned mock offense.

“Nah, I’m calling myself smarter. And more cunning” Andrews jabbed back.

“So, who are you going to battle first?”

“Well, a certain SOMEONE gave me the ass beating of my life so maybe him?” Andrews zeroed on him. “C’mmon Hunter, this is payback”

Andrews was up to something.

He noticed as soon as Andrews insisted on him picking the white pieces, refusing to eat his peon piece or killing his queen at every chance he had.

He decided to play along, curious to see where he was going with that.

“My peon reached your base, so it can be promoted now” Hunter announced, placing the piece on the other side.

“Oh boy whatever should we do? You still have a queen piece so we don’t have a spare queen to use!” Andrews dramatically placed his hand on his head, really milking it, sighing very loudly. “Unless...!”

He gives a mischiveous smile as he walks right where Miller was sitting watching their match and offers her his hand.

Miller giggles with humor as she takes Andrews’ hand and allows herself to be lead to the spot where he had placed the peon, carefully nudging the piece aside.

“There we go! Miller can be “your queen” Hunter” Andrews grinned teasingly as he wriggled his eyebrows.

“I’m waiting for your orders your Highness” Miller also teased, making a mock bow in his direction.

“Y-You two are shameless! How can you make such an embarrassing joke with a straight face?!” He felt himself flush a deep red, his heart beating so fast to the point of making him think it would jump out of his chest at any moment.

Somehow Andrews still beat him in that match.

The results didn't surprise him, after all it had been quite difficult to pay attention to what was going on in that match.

After all, having to direct Miller to where she should go by taking her hand and leading her around was VERY distracting.

...Through maybe he was being a sore loser because Andrews beat both of them fair and square in subsequent matches. He did really have the smarts and skills to back up his earlier trash talk.

 “HECK YEAH THE FIRST WIN OF THE DAY!” Andrews cheered. “Finally First Place of the day Baby!”

“Congratulations” Hunter chuckled. “And I guess that’s the first time I ended up in last place as well. I had no idea you were this good at playing chess Miller, were you secretely training for it?”

“I guess it's thanks to Johannes” Hunter felt his insides get frosty at the mention of that name. “Sometimes, during our spare time, we would play chess together and he would teach me a lot about the game”

Miller’s smile was fond.

He felt an ugly and unbecoming feeling stir inside of him.

“Welllllllll folks it’s almost lunch time so how about we follow up with our plans for it and guarantee a nice spot for our picnic?” Andrews thankfully diverts the situation, something he feels very grateful for. “Let’s make haste so it won’t get super crowded shall we?”

Hunter dropped his shoulders, sighing heavely as he entered his car, laying his head on the steering wheel as he tried to calm himself down once again.

 He should have been happy for her.

She wasn’t flinching or in pain whenever she mentioned that man’s name anymore. It should be a good thing she can smile again, because that would mean she moved on from what happened.

“It’s none of my business if she decided to forgive him. That’s her choice to make, not mine” he berates himself. “...Besides, It would be a hypocrisy from my part when Miller also forgave me for everything I did as well”

He tried to tell that to himself over and over but it was no use. That foul and putrid feeling that festered inside him didn’t go away. The more he learned about their relationship, about how close they were, the more nauseous he felt.

Miller had moved the skies and earth for Johannes’ sake.

He had heard the stories. About how she had mobilized her entire unit to save his life and how she got the the person who conspired to harm him to be fired from his job. It always seemed like nothing could get under her skin and yet she completely lost her cool and got into a murderous rage because he was hurt.

When he and Miller stopped their daily routine of checking documents together he felt... Empty inside. He didn’t have any good reason or excuse to be around her anymore and it made his heart ache with longing. He sorely missed her warmth and companionship.

That was why he started to wait for her at the cafeteria and common room. To spend more time with her, even if only a few minutes more.

But she barely if ever frequented those places.

People told him that she constantly spent time together with Johannes, discussing plans, overseeing past reports or talking about improvements to be made for the sake of their team.

It was because he was her second in command, it was for the sake of work.

That’s what he thought at the time, or what he chose to believe it was, but...

‘during our spare time, we would play chess together’

Miller... She didn’t spend time with him exclusively for the sake of her job or out of obligation. She did it because that was something she genuinely wanted and enjoyed doing too.

It was frustrating how he had to struggle so hard to be allowed to have a bit of her time while Johannes had the monopoly of her attention.

It was easy to see that he was undoubtedly the most important person to her. It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Everyone except that guy.

That day, despite them being still at odds because of their first disagreement ever she didn’t doubt his loyalty even once. Her wholeheartedly trust was not shaken at all, she still unconditionally believed in him.

Even the whole thing that lead to their disagreement in the first place happened because Miller was only thinking about his wellbeing. Even if she had went about it the wrong way there was no denying that it came from a place of care. She valued him so much that she was willing to put her own feelings and needs aside to prioritize what she perceived as his.

That day had been the first time he saw her tears. The first time she crumbled apart.

Maybe that was why the thought of that guy still mattering to her bothered him so much.

How ungrateful and selfish one could be?

How many of her precious memories and feelings were treated like worthless trash?

“... Sorry for taking so long, I hope I didn’t make you two wait for too long” Hunter apologized.

“Don’t worry about it” Andrews waved it of.

“Let’s dig in! I can’t wait to have a taste of your guys’ cooking!” Miller chirped, clearly excited.

“Damn Hunter you can really cook!” Andrews nodded in appreciation as he chewed the food with gusto. “Miller too, which is honestly the biggest surprise here, what with her screwed tastebuds”

“Andrews, the only thing I dislike are sweets, everything else is fine”

“Your food is also pretty good” Hunter nods back. “There are some pretty elaborate things here”

“Well, it’s only because you two were eating my food” Andrews shrugged. “Usually I don’t really bother, I just scrap whatever isn’t spoiled to eat”

“...Are you sure? Because that didn’t sound like a joke”

“Andrews your eating habits worry me a bit, I don’t think I saw you eating properly recently”

“Yes mom number 1 and mom number 2 I’m eating my veggies properly” Andrews rolls his eyes. “Also, you are one to talk dear partner, wasn’t Hunter feeding you his homecooked meals because you kept overworking yourself and skipping lunch?”

“W-Well, that’s...”

“See?” Andrew smiles smugly. “Althrough I bet that you two enjoyed the hand feeding, how scandal-mahwhahsh”

He shoved a mouthful of food inside Andrews’ mouth before he could spout any more embarrassing stuff.

“... Before we go I think I will need to use the bathroom. Could you two wait for me?” Miller announced after they finished eating everything and wrapped things up.

“Sure, go ahead Miller”

“Thanks!”

They watched as Miller disapperead in the crowd.

"So... How are you feeling now Hunter?” Andrews asked as soon Miller was out sights.

“Better. Thanks for the save back then. I hope I didn’t ruin things with my sudden sour mood”

“Nah, I understand.” Andrews shook his head. “Sometimes I also feel like that”

Andrews trully was something else.

His charisma was the real deal. It was what allowed him to diffuse any situation, no matter how awkward it was and to convince others to follow his lead and heed his words.

It was thanks to him that their unit got closer with each other and to Miller.

They were her unit, the people she handpicked herself, the ones that spent enough time with her to see past the rumors and understand her true good nature. Despite what Miller belived this wasn’t the main reason to why they felt discouraged to get closer to her.

Miller felt, for the longest time, unapproachable.

Even to him she felt like she was way out of his league. She was strong, composed and never seemed to need to rely on anyone but herself. She never showed weakness, never allowed herself to be vulnerable, always taking care of everyone but not allowing the same to herself. She didn’t allow anyone in.

Andrews changed their view on her. He showed everyone what the true Miller was behind the facade she had forced on herself.

Someone who laughs like them, someone who bleeds, someone who gets angry, someone that wanted to get close to them but was equally too awkward and unsure to know how to go about it.

Honestly it was no wonder why Miller seemed to regard him so highly. Not only because he was her old partner but also because he got her. He understood her needs better than anyone else.

“I wish I was like you”. Hunter voices his thoughts. “I wish I was able to support others like you do”

“You could be”

He snaps his head back at Andrews in surprise.

“I wasn’t like this from the start” Andrews smiles. “I was more like an anti-social loser who held a a grudge against the world because of the way I was mistreated by some rotten apples and because people wanted to forcibly change me to fit their standards”

Althrough the context might have differed Hunter felt he could relate to the experience. About people having their own ideal image of what he should be, getting disappointed and offended by said image not fitting their expectations and treating their real selves as something “wrong”.

“Then I met my dear partner, Miller” Andrews’ voice goes soft. “The circumstances of our first meeting were far from ideal. I was a very uncooperative asshole. Even told her point blank that I was only willing to do the bare minimum, and you know what she said?”

He chucked at the memory.

“That’s a surprising amount of leeway you are giving me”

“That sounds like her” Hunter smiled, recalling his own first meeting with Miller and how she had equally blindsided him with her unexpected answer of calling him a “good man” after a rough start.

“Miller never once tried to intrude on my boundaries. What I wanted to share about myself was enough to make her happy”. Andrews recalls the happy days spent together. “She... Always saw everything with a sense of wonder, cherishing every single moment like it a precious treasure and wanting to understand everything you showed her. She had a way to make the world around you seem far more interesting and better than you thought”

A kinder world. Where it existed someone that not only would accept you but also validate your existence, telling you that there was nothing wrong with being yourself and you could make someone happy like that.

“I started searching for ways to spend time together on our days off, to be more fun to be around, to be less moody and more appreciative. I wanted to share more things with her, good times”. She was really a wonder of a person, someone you would be lucky to meet in a lifetime. He was forever thankful that he was fortunate enough to have her in his life. “She really changed me. Where others had failed to do so, Miller had succeed without even trying and you know why right?”

“Because she never asked anything out of you”

“Yes. She never asked me to be anything but myself. Everything I did was out my own volition. I became a better person, but not a “different person” if that makes any sense”. Andrews nods. “If I smile, if I laugh it’s not because I want to humor her or anyone else, it’s because I really mean it”

He pats his shoulder.

“You might not think so because you still have some things you want to figure out but I think you are doing fine yourself Hunter. You’re a good person. You helped us a lot you know? Both Mille and me”

It made him happy to hear that.

He already considered Andrews his friend but it was still nice to know that he also thought of him as one as well. It seriously touched him.

“Hunter you don’t have worry so much about what we will think you know? Both me and Miller are also trying to figure this thing out as much as you are so take as much time as you need to find your pace”

“Figuring things out... Huh?”

“Hey everyone, I’m back! Sorry for taking so long, it was super crowded” Miller returns before she stops to stare at him.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. I don’t think so” she shakes her head, smiling in an enigmatic way. “Are you having fun so far Hunter?”

“Yes. I really am”

“If you aren't too tired would you like to hang out a bit more with us?”

Hunter looked at their faces.

They were both smiling at him.

“Yes, I would really like that”

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Comfort: Billy Hargrove

Stranger Things Masterlist

word count: 900

Request: Hey I was wondering if you could do a Billy Hargrove story where the reader and Billy are neighbors, and they don't like eachother. But one night Billy comes to your window seeking help after his father abused him. You helped clean him up and he slept in your bed with you and you guys wake up cuddling and all that fluffy stuff

Billy Hargrove was known as many things to many people but most people saw him as a bully or Mr. Popular since he arrived in Hawkins. Now you had no real reason not to like Billy, the two of you didn't really interact much despite being neighbors but for a reason, he didn't like you and always made it a point to let you know whether it was coming home late blaring his music, or revving his car right outside your house, or sometimes almost hitting you when you were outside skating.

You were at home working on your homework while some music played quietly in the background when you started to hear some yelling and screaming coming from next door which was pretty common but this time it sounded worst than it's ever been making you worry about Max and even Billy despite how he treated you. You went back to trying to focus on your homework when you heard a tap at your window making you look up and see a busted-up Billy standing there making you sigh. You opened your window and told him to come in still unsure why he came out of all people, you watched as he took a seat on your bed.

"Is Max okay?" You asked him trying to break the awkward silence.

"She wasn't home when it happened. Sorry for um showing up like this I didn't know where else to go." He said quietly.

"You're fine. How badly hurt are you?" You asked him as you walked into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

"I think it's just my face." He said as you walked back into your room and sat next to him on the bed.

You started cleaning up his cuts and you couldn't help but notice how pretty his eyes were up close, but part of you knew that Billy only saw this as a moment of weakness and would probably go back to hating you tomorrow.

"There you go. I'd say most of your cuts will heal up in a day or two." You said to him as you stood up to put the first aid kit away.

"Can I ask why you helped me well even let me instead of turning me away?" He asked you.

"Well Billy despite you being a total dick to me and your sister, I still care about you and your wellbeing, and trust me I thought about leaving you out there but I also knew that there had to be some reason you came to my window." You said.

"It wasn't intentional all those times, yes Max annoys me 90% of the time but I do care for her in some way and I got jealous when she kept bringing you up and how awesome you were and told me not to scare you off. I came because I had hoped that maybe since you cared about Max then maybe you would help me." He said.

That night you two spent the most night talking and finding out that you two had a lot in common and eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. The next morning you woke up shocked to find Billy's arm around you but it made you smile a bit that he didn't get up and leave.

"Thanks for letting me crash here last night." He said as you walked out of the bathroom after getting changed.

"No worries. You are welcome here anytime you need it." You said giving him a small smile knowing that this was probably going to be the last time you speak to him.

After Billy left you finished getting ready for school, shaking off that weird feeling that you had in your stomach now that he was gone. You grabbed your bag and headed downstairs to grab some breakfast before heading off to school like you usually do. Once you arrived at school, you were surprised to see Billy standing at your locker.

"Hey again." You said as you approached his locker.

"Hey, you were gone before I could offer you a ride to school." He said making you look at him confused.

"A ride?" You asked him.

"Yeah since we're friends now or at least I hope we are. I could give you a ride to and from school if you like?" He asked.

"We are and I would like that but won't it ruin your reputation by hanging out with me?" You asked him.

"Like I said we're friends now, so that means friends hang out right?"He asked.

"They do, just making sure you aren't messing with me." You said to him making him laugh.

"You never. You showed me kindness last night that I hadn't been shown in long time." He said making you smile.

From that point on you and Billy Hargrove became fast friends and even Max was a little upset by it at first but was happy to see another side to her brother.

[yandere-toons]

Yandere Mr Wolf, Mr Snake, Mr Piranha, Mr Shark, Ms Tarantula (Platonic & Romantic Headcanons)

Warnings: violence, reference to death, implied stalking + cyberstalking, psychological manipulation, toxic mindsets.

A.N. - Yippee-Ki-Yay.

Platonic:

Each member of this criminal gang thinks of themselves as the unspoken favourite, and their methods for proving it can either work well together or end in chaos. Ms Tarantula crashes a stock market of their friend's choosing while Mr Shark hands them a push pop so they can cool off and watch Wall Street panic at the same time. The real conflict begins with Mr Piranha dubbing himself the favourite as soon as their friend says anything positive about him, which is seen as a challenge by Mr Wolf, who steps in to call himself the favourite because he introduced the friend to the rest of the group.

.

Mr Snake broods in the background of most of these contests, only getting involved when one of his teammates or the fighting itself is hijacking his time with their friend. He seizes the opportunity to ask them if they want to hunt guinea pigs together and deliberately chooses a spot far away from the other members. The rest of the crew finds him anyway thanks to Ms Tarantula's skills in tracking their friend through surveillance cameras. If anyone doubts him, Snake blames the guinea pigs for running away instead of admitting that he did not want any chance of someone else coming along.

.

Mr Wolf enjoys prying into their friend's personal life and making jokes about the information he receives to ease suspicions. It is his way of being prepared for anything that they may say or do to get out of a job, and if he catches them in a lie, Mr Wolf exposes it where his comrades can listen and add to the peer pressure. Even though Mr Piranha and Mr Shark tend to trust their friend without much difficulty, Mr Snake is a cynic. Plus, Ms Tarantula has their personal information on file, so she can fact-check any story they give.

.

If their friend is seeking to deny any involvement with the crew, its members conspire to make this as difficult as possible. Mr Wolf tosses a stolen pearl to them from the window of the escape car, Piranha does not stop waving until the car turns the corner, and Tarantula probes the traffic cameras to plan each crime around when they will be present. Shark chats about life with their friend when he is supposed to be undercover or on the lookout for security, which results in a balagan on the comms as half the team tells Shark to focus and the other half asks questions about what their friend is doing.

.

Snake is of the mind that their mutual friend should be the one reaching out to him, but he will not be stopped by police sirens or a blaring alarm when he has something to say to them. He is rather mean-spirited, especially when he feels betrayed, so Mr Snake is not above public humiliation by way of tossing a piece of evidence at them that places them under the glaring eye of the law. Crushing their reputation until they have to resort to crime to pay the bills is his fallback plan, one that his teammates come to support before Mr Wolf has a change of heart.

Romantic:

Despite his cantankerous attitude towards their partner interacting with people outside of the crew, Snake is ready to threaten and bully whoever fails to give them what he considers their due. Piranha is equally poised to attack others for doubting their partner and evoking any kind of negative emotion in them. However, Piranha's impulsiveness and Snake's hostility have led to many unnecessary fights and close calls.

.

A common situation would involve this: Snake eats someone for jaywalking in front of their friend's car and nearly causing them to crash. Piranha cheers for him in the background, while Mr Shark performs the Heimlich maneuver on Snake to force him to cough up the latest victim. Mr Wolf then charms their way out of another attempted murder charge, schmoozing any witnesses and first responders just long enough for Tarantula to wipe the camera footage.

.

Piranha believes they are privy to his inner thoughts and assumes that anything they say or do in his presence is directed at him. He either forgets or does not understand why this may affect how they react to him sprinting at them with a handful of flowers still wet from the vase he broke. Along with Mr Wolf, Mr Piranha is the type who likes to take the microphone from Tiffany Fluffit and repeat a special message to their partner on national television while bags of stolen money are draped over his back and Mr Snake is shouting at him to get in the car.

.

Governor Foxington condemns the Bad Guys' actions in public, but in private, she advises Mr Wolf to stop the chase and argues that he and his team are jeopardising their own redemptions. While their partner is swimming in bad publicity and cannot turn the TV on without hearing Rupert Marmalade bash them for being an alleged accomplice to the Bad Guys, Mr Wolf holds a team meeting. He discusses how to win their partner's loyalty and takes suggestions that include everything from bribing them with gold bars to robbing their place of employment until they seek alternative work.

.

The bait is taken in an unexpected way when Chief Luggins jumps at the obvious connection and issues an APB on their partner, charging them with conspiracy to commit grand theft and calling for their arrest. Piranha and Shark are infuriated by the news and start plotting an explosive jailbreak within seconds of hearing it, but Wolf and Tarantula urge their teammates to pursue more subtle methods. Snake is bitter about the fact that their partner has not officially joined the team and suggests that the crew should let them rot in a cell for a few days.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Mi Vida (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 950 Warning: Language Premise: The first time she calls him an affectionate pet name in her native language.

Author’s Note: Inspired by an ask from @btwitschelle​ (gracias, amiga!)

“People here drive like utter assholes,” Lilac complained from the other line, the blare of the city audible in the background. “And they say LA drivers are insane. I mean, we are, but I've never seen a breed like the Masshole.”

Ethan allowed a slanted smile, regretting the fact that Lilac wasn't there to see it. He always felt the swell of satisfaction when he saw her reaction to them, namely the way her pink lips parted on their own accord.  His crooked smiles drove her insane, by her own admission.

“You know that makes me a Masshole, too.”

“Yes,” she replied without missing a beat. “But at least you are careful not to almost hit pretty pedestrian doctors when you drive.”

Ethan could hear her hurried footsteps through the phone as she walked and complained about Boston drivers. He listened, leaning back on his office chair and scanning through the emails that didn't require his full attention. Even that simple task proved to be difficult when all he could picture was the rosy flare on her cheeks as she ranted.

Soon, the natural, rhythmic cadence of her native tongue made itself known the more passionate she became. It coated some words, making them sound melodic in a way the English language never could. Ethan loved it when her "accent"—though he hated calling it that—pierced through her words. It happened unintentionally when she was impassioned or speaking quickly. Other times, she did it intentionally for his benefit. Lilac had become aware of the effect her Spanish had on him, particularly when his hands and lips always ended up on her soft curves every time she used it.

“Anyway, I'm about to go inside,” she said. “You're sure you want your usual?”

“Yes, Rookie,” he returned in a stern voice, despite his amusement. “No iced coffee abomination for me.”

Lilac let out a knowing laugh. “As you wish, mi vida. I'll see you in a bit.”

Ethan kept his cellphone pressed between his ear and shoulder long after the call ended. The two words, uttered so casually, had brought his whole world to a grinding halt.  

Mi vida.

He had heard the words murmured in the halls of Edenbrook before, usually within a reassurance to a loved one that everything would be okay. He had seen the love and devotion that paired with the utterance. Ethan knew the literal translation and the meaning those two single words carried. As his heartbeat clamored a frantic tune in his chest, he understood the true joy of being the recipient.

“Here you go, babe,” Lilac said fifteen minutes later, placing the to-go cup in his hand. “Black sludge for you and a delicious cinnamon latte for me.”

She slurped from her iced coffee quite adorably, but Ethan was still in too much of a daze to comment. Lilac frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“My life,” Ethan said.

Lilac's confusion deepened her frown.

“What?”

“That's what it means. What you called me on the phone earlier.”

He could see the way her mind worked to recall and when she did, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah,” she said with a small shrug. “It's a common term of endearment in Spanish…”

When Ethan didn't answer, her expression turned mortified. She bit her lower lip.

“If you don't like it, I can stop—”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not at all. I quite like it, in fact.”

The relief that relaxed her beautiful features melted into the most winsome smile he had ever seen. It tugged at his heart, as though she unknowingly tried to take what was rightfully hers.

Lilac moved closer, filling the space that separated them.

“I have others, if you liked that one so much.”

Her voice was coquettish— raspy and low in ways that set every nerve ending on fire.

“Is that so? Care to share?”

“Mi cielo,” she murmured, lifting herself up to kiss his jaw.

Ethan grinned, feigning deep thought.

“Hmm. What else?”

“Corazón.”

A kiss on the ridge of his cheekbone.

“Tesoro.”

Her lips moved down to his, hovering for an agonizing moment before she kissed him.

“Cariño,” she murmured against his lips, corrupting his innocent, work-appropriate intentions. Her voice, which changed entirely when speaking Spanish, was like warm honey, dripping torturously down his skin. 

Ethan pulled her soft body against his, her curves molding to his hard planes. His mouth, meanwhile, became hungrier with every indulgent stroke and every maddening little hum from Lilac. Ravenous for more of her — every little bit he could take — his mouth moved down to the column of her neck, making her fingernails dig into his biceps.

“You can call me whatever you want as long as you sound like that.” His voice was a gravelly, harsh whisper against her neck.

Soon, rationality reached them through their lustful haze and they separated, now without a string of fluttering kisses.

Still in his arms, Lilac grinned, her lips swollen and darkened by their kiss. “I have some embarrassing ones so you might regret giving me full reign.”

“I don't care. Call me what you like,” he said, very seriously.

Her own amusement vanished as she watched him, looking as though there was something she longed to say. In the end, she brushed a short lock of hair from his forehead, her fingers trailing the side of his face.

“Tu eres lo que más adoro.” She kissed him one last time. “Mi vida.”

The rays of the bright, mid-morning sunshine pierced through the office window, bringing out the gold in her hair and eyes. Ethan watched her, his arms bringing her even closer. Everything he ever needed or wanted was right there, in his arms. He understood the true meaning of her last two words now more than ever: mi vida.

She was his life, too.

Translations:

Mi vida= My life

Mi cielo= My sky

Corazón= Heart

Tesoro= Treasure

Cariño= Dear

Tu eres lo que más adoro.= You are what I most adore. 

Author’s Note: My goal is to write more “Ethan goes a little stupid when his gf/wife speaks Spanish” fics and “Ethan speaks Spanish” fics!

Thank you for reading! 

[weelittleweasley]

hopelessly devoted to you (f.w.)

prompt: rejection hurts. but what hurts even more is still being absolutely infatuated with the person who broke your heart. 

pairings: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader, george weasley x platonic reader

warnings: heartbreak, crying, language, underage drinking, very angsty, think early 2000s movie

word count: 8k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff​ @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @lol-idk-oops​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @spacexcowgirl​ @paintballkid711​ @vogueweasley​ @rogueweasleys​​

It was like pouring salt into an open wound. You forced yourself to look at Fred, how happy he looked as he linked arms with Angelina in the hallway, smiling widely, whispering something into her that made her throw her head back with laughter. You tried to convince yourself that making yourself watch them showed him that you weren’t heartbroken or sad or sorry for yourself when in reality, you were trying to cover up the fact that you were miserable. The wallowing feeling of jealousy and sadness ate away at your stomach lining as you nibbled on your bottom lip, trying to remain composed as they passed you in the corridors.

After they were out of your sightline, you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as George places a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t keep beating yourself up about this, (Y/N),” he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you lean into him with a pained groan. “I know it’s been difficult for you, but it’s been two months. No need to dwell on someone like my brother. It’s not worth your precious time, darling,” he tells you as you walk down the halls of the castle, making your way to the Great Hall. 

With a huff, you look up at George who gives you a knowing look. He was right, but at the same time, there was no way he could understand the kind of pain it was to be so heartbroken, but still so head over heels for someone. “I can’t help it, George. It’s not something I can just get over. I didn’t just have a crush on Fred. He felt something too or else what happened that night wouldn’t have happened...” you trail off, the memory of that night playing in your head as you cringed to yourself.

Spirits were high as music blared in the common room. Laughter and celebration was in order. A great quidditch game was just won by the Gryffindor team against Slytherin and that meant a common room party unlike any other. Lee Jordan pushed the couch against the wall, clearing the space for a dance floor as Ron and Harry started pour up stiff cups of Fire Whiskey, Daisyroot Draught, and Gigglewater. 

“Georgie, put on something that people can actually dance to! Enough of the bloody Cotton-Eyed Joe!” Lee groans out as George bursts out into a fit of laughter, changing the song to something more universally enjoyable. “The Macarena is not acceptable either!”

Fred grabs a drink as people filed into the common room behind him, filling up the space quite quickly. Your heart flutters at the sight of Fred, but you bury your face in your cup as you take a swig of whatever liquor Ron had poured for you. “Oh come on, Jordan, the Macarena is a fan favorite!” Fred laughs as you shake your head, Fred dropping his left eye in a wink, making you gulp and avert your eyes as if it were wrong to look at the tall ginger.

Lee rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the boom box. “You both are dickheads, I’ll man the music,” Lee groans before switching the music to ABBA as people cheer out as the music fills the space. “See? People like ABBA. Not the fucking Macarena.”

Soon enough, everyone has a drink in their hand and is on the dance floor, screaming out the lyrics to Mamma Mia so loud that you could barely hear the original music that came from the boom box settled in the corner of the room. Instead of joining the masses on the dance floor, you kept to the side lines, sipping on your drink as you made conversation with Katie and Alicia, laughing at a joke Katie had just told. Every once in a while you would look at the dance floor, watching Fred as he jumped up and down, holding onto his brother and Lee, laughing as the liquid in their cups sloshed around. You smiled to yourself, seeing how happy they all were, especially Fred. The way his dimple-y grin caused a grin to appear on your face as you watched his every move. 

Fred was one of those crushes that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop liking him. You tried distancing yourself, but that only made the feelings grow stronger. And it didn’t help that you were close with his family. Whenever you were with George, Fred had managed to weasel his way into the conversation. If you were with Ron, Fred would always pull you away so you could hang out with “the more exciting Weasley.” No matter what you did, the crush to Fred Weasley stuck. 

You shake away your thoughts as you turned your attention back onto the conversation with Katie and Alicia. Looking down at your cup, you see how empty it was. “I’m gonna grab another drink, anyone want more?” you survey the girls as they shake their heads. You make your way to the drink table, passing the dance floor before reaching the punch bowl. But before you could pour yourself another drink, you feel a pair of hands grab your sides, squeezing them abruptly, making you squeal out. “Oh my days!” you grab your chest as you turn and see it was just Fred. “What the hell is wrong with you,” you slap his arm with a small smile on your lips. 

He laughs, “Why aren’t you on the dance floor? I know you can dance, (Y/N),” he teases you as you roll your eyes. Fred places your cup on the table and grabs your hands, trying to pull you to the dance floor.

“No, no, no,” you groan in protest, pulling away from him. “I’m not dancing, Weasley.”

Fred has a cheeky smile on his face as he gives you a look that screams, Oh come on. “You know you want to,” he sing songs. “Your favorite song is playing too!” he tells you.

Furrowing your brows, you speak, “No, it’s not.” He holds up a finger before the song switches abruptly to Dancing Queen as the crowd cheers out in excitement. You give him a look, knowing that Fred had planned this. “Oh, you cheeky bastard. You can’t play this song and expect me to stay still,” you laugh as Fred joins in, wrapping his arm around you, the two of you running to the dance floor.

The two of you start scream singing the lyrics to the ABBA classic, Fred twirling you on the dance floor into his chest as the two of you rock back and forth to the music. You can’t help but sport the goofiest smile. You couldn’t be happier in this moment. You were in your favorite place with your favorite song playing, dancing with your favorite boy. Fred brought you close to his body, hips moving against yours as your heart rate escalated, face flushed. You would blame it on the dancing even though it was definitely a consequence of your close bodies.

“I’ll give it to you, (Y/L/N),” Fred speaks close to your ear. “You are the dancing queen.”

With a giggle, you reply, “Don’t you forget it, Weasley.”

As the song fades away in the background, the two of you just look at each other, small smiles on both of your lips as you take the other in. Fred’s hair was messy from dancing, but it was still pushed back to show his handsome face and strong features. His lips were curved up in a smile as he looked into your eyes, his big brown eyes filled with tenderness. He looked so happy and a happy Fred was a beautiful one. 

You didn’t even know how long you two spent looking at each other, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, you were the only two people in the common room, the music still blaring as students didn’t stop dancing and singing and laughing. But it was all a blur in the background, Fred your only focus, and you were his. 

It wasn’t until his forehead was pressed against yours that you noticed he was leaning down, pulling your faces closer together. You inhaled sharply through your lips as he made contact with your forehead. “Is this o-”

“Yes,” you cut him off sharply before he waits no longer to press his lips to yours as you melt into Fred completely, pulling his body closer to yours as his hands grab either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. The kiss was everything you had imagined. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon that warmed up your cheeks and sent tingles down from your head to your toes. Fred’s lips moved gently against yours, his tongue sliding past your parted lips as you started softly snogging on the dance floor. Neither of you cared who watched or didn’t watch, right now this was about the two of you. 

Fred gently pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks as you smiled from ear to ear. He was silent for a moment. But then he didn’t say anything. He just pulled away, removing his hands from your face as you looked at him, a little puzzled. “Freddie?” you speak gently, reaching out for his hand.

But he didn’t let you touch him. He just spoke, “I need to take a step outside for a second.” 

Before you could protest, he dashed through the maze of people and pushed the door to the common room open, disappearing. What just happened? Panic dashes through your veins as you follow him out of the common room and to the stairs. “Fred!” you call out for him as he turns around to see you standing there confused as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He chuckles, “What’s wrong? (Y/N), I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Your heart sinks and your mouth falls agape for a moment before you manage to speak, “What?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry for putting you in that position. It was wrong of me. You’re my best mate and I just royally fucked things up for us, didn’t I? I don’t want this to change anything between us,” Fred walks towards you, searching your eyes for hope for your friendship.

You smile gently and grab his hands. “Fred,” you start, “It’s not your fault at all, stop apologizing.” He exhaled, relieved. “But...I, um, I want things to change between us,” you confess as Fred gives you a puzzled look. “Fred, I like you. I’ve liked you for so long and when you kissed me I was so thrilled that you felt something too. Even if it was for a second.”

Fred sigh and stutters for a moment, looking down at his feet. “Good Godric,” he speaks just above a whisper as you force him to meet your gaze as you look at him, hopeful that he will reciprocate those feelings. “(Y/N)...” he gives a breathless laugh as you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. This would be his confession. He felt the same too. He had to. Or else he couldn’t have kissed you. “You mean everything to me. You’ve been my closest friend here for so long. But I’m afraid that’s all I see you as. My friend...I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way about me. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I knew.”

Your heart sinks to your feet as you peel your hands away from him and look at him with complete and utter heartbreak slapped all over your face. Fred immediately feels guilty when he sees your eyes become glassy. He tries to speak for himself but you don’t let him. “I have to go,” you speak breathily before running back into the common room, The Winner Takes It All blaring through the speakers. How fitting.

You couldn’t let anyone see you like this, so you ran straight to the girl’s dormitories, trying to avoid sorry eyes and worried glances. The tears flow freely down your face as you scurry to the stairs, hearing your name being called out by an all too familiar voice. But you don’t let yourself stop. You run up the stairs, away from it all. Away from him.

The night haunted you like some sort of sick joke. George knew how much it bothered you, so he tried his best not to bring it up. But seeing you so upset over something as silly as a crush on Fred made him upset. “Something you surely know about Fred is that is a damned idiot. He does a lot of things he shouldn’t,” George tells you as you lightly laugh. “But you can’t let him get the best of you.” You knew he was right, but you couldn’t help but morn this crush you’ve nurtured for so long. 

And now Fred was able to move on like nothing happened between the two of you. You avoided talking directly to him, rather going through a sibling to talk to him indirectly or just ignoring him when you were in a group setting. But if he talked to you, you put on your brave face and flashed him a smile like nothing was wrong. This only encouraged Fred to move on as well and as a result, Fred was now taking Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball. 

“I just can’t believe he could bounce back like that though,” you speak as you walk into the Great Hall for lunch. “I mean really? He’s taking Angelina to the Yule Ball, one of our mutual friends, and he expects me to be fine? I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me, Georgie,” you confess as you plop down at the table, letting your head hang in your hands.

Katie gives you a confused look before looking at George. “Is this about-”

“Yes,” George cuts her off as Katie nods her head, sipping her pumpkin juice. “Listen, forget about them, alright? It’s done. It’s over. You’re going to go to the Yule Ball, you’re going to look fucking fantastic, and you’re going to dance your ass off and have the time of your life with your hot date,” George shrugs as if it were a matter of fact.

A short curt laugh escapes your mouth. “Sounds great, George. Only problem is that I don’t have a hot date,” you give him a glare.

He smiles. “Of course you do. It’s me, you git,” he nudges you. You burst out laughing as Katie joins you, the two of you clutching your sides in amusement. “Hey! I make a hot date!” George exclaims over the laughter. “Besides, we have a great time together. We’ll take nice pictures, I’ll dress up for you, I’ll treat you like a proper lady. It’ll be fun. But expect no kisses. None of that will be happening,” he tells you with a shiver as you smack his arm. “It’s nothing against you! You’re just like my sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off, will ya?” you speak with a small smile as George chuckles, giving you a nudge. “Fine. We’ll go together to the Yule Ball. My dress is winter white, if you care. And please, don’t bring me one of those ugly corsage things.”

George smiles, “Aye-aye captain.” You sigh and start picking at the food on your plate. “Now you’ve got everything you need for the perfect night out. Aren’t you glad you’re going to the ball with me?” he asks as you roll your eyes, mimicking him.

“Who would agree to go to the ball with you?” a voice asks with a sneer grin in their voice. 

Looking up stood Fred with Angelina by his side as they took their seats across the table. Your heart starts beating faster as you just look away and pick at the chips on your plate. George, reading your body language, speaks up for you. Thank Merlin you had a best mate who knew you so well. “(Y/N) is. We’re going as mates, of course, but figured we’d both have the best time that way,” George beams, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you give him a smile.

Fred laughs, “That’s one way of putting it. (Y/N), if you need help getting out of it, blink twice,” he teases you with a grin as you gulp.

“Actually I’m really excited to go with George,” you exhale. “Might as well go with someone who I really care for then go with a date that I need to impress and don’t know that well. I reckon we’ll have a ball,” you wink to George who rolls his eyes, laughing at your awful joke as you smile.

Fred just watches the two of you chuckle together as he slowly nods his head. Katie interjects and speaks, “Reckon you chose the cuter Weasley twin too, (Y/N).”

You look at Katie knowingly and join her laughter as Fred calls out in protest, “Oi! Bell, piss off!” Katie spits a raspberry at him before scooting closer to you as you lean into her side. At least you knew George and Katie would have your backs.

Angelina looks at Fred, linking her arm in his yet again, “I think you’re still cute, Fred.” Her words make your stomach curdle, but you don’t let the expression show on your face. Instead, you continue to eat your food and distract yourself with a conversation with George about what he’ll be wearing to the ball.

The entire time you distract yourself from Fred, you can feel him steal glances at you, monitoring how you spoke to George, throwing your head back as you laughed, grabbing onto his arm as he leaned into you. You and George were mates, nothing more nothing less, don’t get that wrong. But still something about the interaction made Fred jealous for whatever reason. Regardless of how Fred felt, you couldn’t let yourself care. Fred had moved on and it was time for you to move on as well and enjoy a dance with your best friend.

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

“A few more pictures and then we can get going. Mum will have a cow if I don’t send her any,” George tells you as Katie groans as she plays photographer. “Oh, quit the bellyaching, Bell. Just two more.”

George stands behind you and places his hands on your hips as you place your hands over his, the two of you smiling as the camera flashes and snaps more pictures of the two of you. “My cheeks hurt, are we done?” you huff.

“Yeah, yeah,” George huffs. “Thanks, Bell,” he tells Katie as the group of you gets ready to leave the common room and head down with the masses to the Ball. 

You run your hands down the front of your dress. The winter white silk clung to every curve of your body, the deep v necklace showing off your smooth skin. It wasn’t everyday that you got this dressed up; you almost felt out of place as you ran your finger through your hair, toying with the style you chose. “I look fine, right?” you ask George as you two link arms, headed to the ball.

George scoffs, “Fine? Fine? You look bloody gorgeous.” You smile fondly at George leaning into his side. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl on my arm, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he nudges your arm as you chuckle. “I’m serious, I’m glad that we can go to the ball together, (Y/N).”

Looking at George with kind eyes, you speak, “I am too, Georgie.” George presses a kiss to your temple as you walk down the stairs, arm in arm. “Ugh, why couldn’t I have a crush on you and not your bloody fucking twin,” you speak through gritted teeth as George laughs.

“Would that be any better?” he looks at you knowingly as you huff. “That’s what I thought. Come on, you, I wanna show you off to Lee,” he giggles excitedly as you roll your eyes.

As you make your descent down the stairs, you scan the room. Everyone was dressed sharply in suits and beautiful ball gowns. Everyone looked phenomenal. And that’s when you saw him.

Perfectly tailored black suit. New. His hair slicked back, his gloved hands running through his hair. His hand held Angelina’s, but his eyes were all on you. You suddenly felt very aware of yourself in the space, but you didn’t let that throw you off balance. Instead, you held your head higher and smiled around at the people by you. But his eyes didn’t move from you. It was like you had him in a trance. A trance he had no intention of breaking.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Lee. “Wow,” he speaks. “Absolutely brilliant. You look incredible,” Lee beams. “And you look alright, (Y/L/N),” he teases as you roll your eyes, making George laugh. “I’m joking, you look phenomenal. I don’t know how you managed to get her to agree to go with you.”

George shrugs, “I have a gift, Jordan.”

You give George a look, “A gift for what? Behaving like a moron? In that case, yes, you have a very special gift.”

Almost on cue, a voice speaks from behind you saying, “You look great,” making you turn your head. You meet Fred’s gaze and you give him a soft smile while gulping. There he stood in his suited glory, Angelina clinging onto his arm, looking absolutely breathtaking. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, they made a very attractive couple.

“Thank you. You as well,” you say politely even though he did look absolutely ravishing. “You look lovely, Angie. Your dress is stunning.”

Angelina smiles and thanks you as the four of you just awkwardly stand there in a lull of silence. You look over to George, hoping he would take the hint and diffuse the tension. George notices your panicked stare and clears his throat, “If you don’t mind us, (Y/N) are going to go tear up the dance floor now.” He pulls your hand away from Fred as your eyes linger on him for another moment longer. “That wasn’t awkward at all,” he whispers to you. “In fact, that went better than I thought it would go.”

You sigh, “Don’t remind me. Now enough about them. I don’t want to think about it. I want a glass of punch and I want to dance.”

George squeezes your hand with a giddy smile. “Atta girl. Come on then.”

The entire night, you spent it surrounded by George, Lee, Katie, and Alicia, jumping around to the live music, laughing and smiling. It was your mission to forget about Fred and who he was dancing with, instead paying attention to your friends and how much fun you were having. 

Katie grabbed your hands and pulled you into the lot of students on the dance floor as you twirled her around, making her giggle wildly. The two of you pressed against each other, dancing to the wailing live band as people sang screamed along to the music. You were having the time of your life and Fred became the last thing on your mind, too busy letting the music ripple through your body as you let your hips swing to the music. 

But then the music slows down and over the mic the lead singer says, “Alright everyone. It’s that time of the night to grab that special someone and take it nice and slow.” With that, the band starts playing a slow song and soon everyone is in pairs, smiling at their date with eyes of adoration.

Katie huffs, “Well, that’s no fun, is it?” You laugh and push her arm, teasingly. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see a bent at the waist George, offering you his hand. “M’lady,” he teases as you roll your eyes, accepting the extended hand with a smile. “I’ll try my best not to step on your feet.”

“Oof, that will be hard considering you have fat feet,” you tease him as he chuckles. One of George’s hands rests on your lower back as the other holds you hand delicately in his, you resting a hand on his shoulder.

The two of you begin to sway back and forth to the music as you sigh, scanning the ballroom, trying to inconspicuously look for that couple. “Don’t look for them, (Y/N). You know it’ll just make you upset,” George tells you.

But as the words leave his lips, your eyes land on them and your heart sinks into the floor beneath your feet. Angelina is giggling as Fred spins her around and pulls her back into his chest. Fred is chuckling as he holds her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They looked so happy together and that’s what made you feel so upset. “Too late,” you huff as you watch Fred duck his head down, placing a kiss onto Angelina’s lips as you suck in a breath sharply. He kissed her just as he kissed you that night in the common room.

You turn away from the sight and look directly ahead of you, pretending you saw nothing with a shake of your head, but your eyes were fogging up with tears. “Don’t cry over him,” George squeezes the hand that rests in his. “We didn’t come here for you to cry over a boy. We came here to have fun. Crying isn’t any fun, is it?” he tries to catch your gaze as you give him a sad smile. “I don’t like seeing my best mate upset. Yeah, that’s right. My best mate.”

With a soft laugh, you take a deep breath in and calm yourself down. “You’re right. You’re right. We came here to have fun. I’m perfectly fine. I’m perfectly happy,” you tell George who gives you a reassuring wink as the two of you continue to sway. But with every passing moment, you keep wanting to look at them. What were they doing? Were they still dancing? Were they laughing? Were they kissing? What did Fred do? 

Inevitably giving in, you turn and look at them again and see Angelina resting her head against Fred’s chest as they sway. Her eyes are closed peacefully as she listens the sound of Fred’s heartbeat mixing with the serene music that plays. But Fred on the other hand is looking right back at you. His eyes are fixated on the way his twin brother holds you in his arms, his jaw lightly clenched as you look directly back at him. Your eyes are full of pain that you try to blink away, but Fred knows how you are feeling. There was no place to hide. Fred Weasley knew you too well. “Look away,” George tells you as he follows your line of sight. 

“I can’t,” you manage to sigh out. “He gets the very best of me.” You look at Fred’s eyes and how they stare deep into you. He knew that you wished it was you resting on his chest, and somewhere deep inside he wished the same. You avert your eyes from the boy and turn to George and speak, “Could we go outside? Get some fresh air?”

George nods, “Absolutely. Come on then.” You link your arm with George and start making your way out of the ballroom and away from the happy couples. Away from Fred. 

The two of you make it out to the courtyard that was beautifully decorated with roses and mixed winter flowers as you suck in the cold, crisp air, refreshing your lungs and hot face. The breeze makes your dress bellow in the wind as George leans against the wall as you take a few deep breaths. “Take the time you need,” he tells you.

You turn to George with a kind smile. “I’m sorry I’m pulling you away from the ball. You should be having fun and not worrying about me. Quite the date I am,” you sarcastically laugh as George shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize. You’re not just my date, you’re my friend. I want to make sure that you’re doing okay. That’s my priority. Take the time you need and when you’re ready, we’ll go back in and spike the punch,” he jokes making you laugh. “Eh, why wait,” he shrugs before pulling out a small flask from his jacket pocket.

You laugh, “Of course you brought it with you. Godric, I love that we’re best friends.” George hands you the flask as you take a long drag from it, the warm whiskey trailing down your throat and warming up your chest and stomach. You hand him back the flask with a small grimace, making George chuckle before sipping from it as well. “I fucking hate balls.”

George shakes his head, “Yeah. I’m not too fond of them either. To be quite honest with you, I’d rather go back to the common room and fuck around.”

Your eyes light up. “Can we do that?” George furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s left to do at the ball? Pretend like we’re enjoying ourselves?” you ask. “I know the both of us are just going to drink more and pretend to like the music, so why not just go into the common room and drink more and listen to music we actually like?”

He smiles and shakes his head, “You sure?” You nod your head. “Alright. I’ll go tell Lee and Katie where we’re headed and then we get get out of here.” You smile and George starts walking back inside. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

As George disappears back into the castle, you sigh and look out at the courtyard. It was such a shame. A beautiful night to have a ball, spending a romantic night with someone. It wasn’t that you weren’t having fun with George, because George was always fun to be around, it was just not how you pictured the night going in your head. You pictured yourself to go with someone you fancied, ideally that person was Fred. You imagined that he would have asked you to the ball and you would have danced the night away, ending the night with him asking you to be his. It was a silly daydream though. But still a dream you hoped for none the less.

However, the memory of that night in the common room sat in your stomach like a rock. The feeling of being told that you weren’t what he wanted made you feel ill. You never wanted to feel like a second choice. You wanted someone who wanted you just as badly as you did. But apparently that wasn’t Fred.

“What are you doing out here alone?” 

Without turning around you knew who it was and you wouldn’t dare look at him. Not right now. You had already seen enough of him. “Shouldn’t you be with Angelina?” you snap back, not intending to sound harsh, but the words came out that way regardless of intention.

You start to walk into the courtyard, allowing yourself to become distracting with the beautifully bloomed bouquets of flowers. The sound of Fred’s footsteps follow you into the courtyard as you gulp. “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Fred tells you as you roll your eyes. “You’re still my friend, (Y/N). I care about you.”

With a small sarcastic chuckle, you reply, “Right. Good to know you care about me.”

In the distance, the roll of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky. What was once a clear night sky now becomes cloudy. But instead of retreating to the castle, you walk further into the gardens. Fred allowing himself to do the same. “I know that things have been complicated between us, (Y/N), but that doesn’t mean we can’t work this out. We can still be around each other without feeling awkward,” he tries to reason with you, but you simply keep walking away from him. You hear him groan before running ahead of you so he can look at your face. You abruptly stop when he appears in front of you. “Please, (Y/N). I can’t have you walk out of my life. You mean so much to me.”

You look at Fred’s apologetic face, but you don’t buy an ounce of it. No matter how much you wanted to take his hands in yours and tell him that you forgive him because you love him, you fight agains the urge and speak with a scowl, “You should have thought about that before you went along and kissed me.” Fred sighs and scoffs. “You know how I feel about you, Fred. And you’re choosing to pretend like I didn’t tell you. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?” you ask him genuinely.

Another rumble of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky with a groan, walking away from Fred again and deeper into the garden. But rather than Fred giving up, he follows you, chasing you through the maze of flowers. “How do you think I feel seeing you come here with my twin brother? Laughing and dancing and being around him constantly? You think it doesn’t make me uncomfortable?” he asks.

This makes you stop dead in your tracks and spin around to look at him. “You’re joking, right?” you scoff as Fred just looks at you. You huff out a laugh, bewildered that Fred would go so far to suggest that you had a thing for George. As you rub your hands over your face, you feel a drop from the sky hit your skin. Great. “George and I are friends!” you emphasize as Fred rolls his eyes. “You think I’m so calculating and manipulative that I would go after your twin? After you rejected me?” you spit at him.

“I don’t know what you think, (Y/N)! All I know is that when I see you with my brother it...does something to me. And I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it,” Fred pulls at the roots of his hair as you frustratedly groan out. It was if the universe was feeling the same way; another rumble of thunder sounds as more droplets start falling from the dark sky.

You take a daring step towards Fred and say, “Well, I can’t help that your ego is so fragile that you get jealous that I’m having a good time with someone who isn’t you.” Fred rolls his eyes and runs hand over his mouth, shaking his head. You couldn’t believe that the two of you were having this conversation. With a burst of confidence, you yell, “Because you know what, Fred! I can’t keep pining over you! It makes me miserable! I’ve been doing it for so long and it’s exhausting. I can’t keep living like this, it makes me infuriated with myself. And now that I know that I have no chance with you, it’s pointless!” Fred runs his fingers through his hair and opens up his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “But that night you kissed me...you made me think that we had a chance. A real chance. But it was all a lie, huh, Fred? You just wanted to take me out on a test drive before you committed to me.”

Your words make Fred’s heart sting and it’s evident by the look on his face. Your words were harsh, but it’s what Fred needed to hear. He was trying to string you along still when you didn’t want to be. And that’s when he explodes, throwing his hands in the air, surrendering, “I didn’t mean to kiss you that night in the common room! It was an honest mistake, heat of the moment! You weren’t a test drive, (Y/N)! Who do you think I am?!” he exclaims as you just shake your head. “I didn’t know you liked me! If I had known-”

“If you had known, you what? You would have found out eventually. And what were you going to do? String me along like some lovesick puppy?!” you exclaim, the lump in your throat rising as the rain starts to fall faster. The rain dampens your hair and the silk of your dress starts to absorb it. “Regardless if you knew I liked you or not, you still kissed me, Fred, and you can’t take that back! You kissed me! But instead of facing the problem as what it is, you’ve distracted yourself with someone new,” you protest as you allow the lump in your throat to burst as tears start to fall down your face, mixing with the fresh rain.

“That’s not fair to say,” Fred shakes his head, taking a step closer to you.

“No, what’s not fair is you being mad that I’m trying to move on!” you exclaim now, speaking through your tears, pushing Fred’s damp chest. He stumbles back at you continue, “What’s not fair is you telling me I can’t do what is best for me! What’s not fair is that no matter how much you hurt me or reject me or surround yourself with other women, I’ll still be head over heels for you, Fred Weasley! I’ll still want you even though you don’t want me! I’ll still be hopelessly devoted to you!” you confess with a sob, turning away from him, covering your face with your arms as you inhale shakily.

Fred doesn’t dare move a step closer to you. Instead, he stands there, listening to the rain pour down, hitting the tender Earth, the wetness absorbing into his fresh pressed suit. “What...do you mean?” he asks, genuinely confused.

With an exasperated laugh, you yell out, “I’m a fool! I’m a fool whose willing to sit around and wait for you!” pulling on the roots of your hair, you vomit everything you’ve been holding in. “I’m out of my fucking head, Fred! My mind is screaming to forget about you and move on, but my heart is telling me to not let go of you! You’ve pushed me aside! Completely! And I don’t know what to do! There’s nothing left for me to do!” you scream out in the pouring rain, the two of you completely soaked standing in the garden. Your chest is heaving in the rain as you just stare at Fred who looks at you, so sad and so torn up. But he is silent. For the first time in a long time, Fred Weasley is speechless.

In a more calm voice, you speak out in the garden over the rain, “I will always be foolishly and hopelessly devoted to you. And I’m sorry. So if I can’t let you go, you’ll have to be the one to do it.” Fred is still silent as you scoff, knowing that he can’t find the words he wants to say. He just stands there in the rain, hands in his pockets as you shake your head, pushing past him, through the garden to get back to the castle. 

“(Y/N)!” he calls out as you ignore him, only picking up your pace as you run out of the courtyard and back into the castle. “(Y/N)!”

As you enter the castle, you see George who looks at you confused as to why you were suddenly drenched, but the rumble of thunder behind you answers his question. But that didn’t answer why you were crying. And then Fred runs into the castle, also completely drenched, and George puts together the puzzle pieces. Katie, who stands next to George, gives you a sad look before speaking, “Let’s get you dry.” You run into Katie’s arm, crying as she rubs your back and guides you up the stairs to get back to the common room.

George just stands there, looking at his twin, shaking his head. Fred looks at his twin, not knowing what to do now. Does he chase after you? Does he take care of you? But next to George stands Angelina who looks at him completely confused. Fred sighs, knowing that he’s really gotten himself into trouble. And there was no easy escape out of it. 

Back in the common room, you have changed into cozy pajamas and are adorned with a fuzzy blanket as the fire roars, warming you up from the freezing rain. Katie sits next to you, rubbing your back as you rested your head on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit here, have a drink, and listen to all the music you want,” she speaks as you nod against her shoulder. Lee hands Katie a cup to which she hands to you as you take a small sip of. 

Lee turns on the boom box in the corner, gently switching through songs before the intro to Dancing Queen starts playing. The sound makes you sit up straight, reminding you of that same damned night as you speak up, “Change the song.” Lee gives you a confused look before switching the song to something different.

Katie gives you a puzzled look as you pull the blanket around you tighter. “I thought you loved that song.”

“Not anymore,” you sigh. “He ruined that too.”

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

The days had gone by slowly but surely. Each day you separated yourself more and more from Fred and tried to keep interactions limited. But it was all difficult since seeing George meant seeing Fred. No matter what though, you knew that Katie and Alicia had your back, giving your hand a squeeze under the table at the Great Hall as he walked in with George. 

Even though you knew the chances of you and Fred ever happening were down the toilet, you couldn’t help the fact that your heart still fluttered at the sight of him. Your stomach still did somersaults at the mention of his name. When you saw his silhouette in the hall, your heart raced with excitement and anticipation. But you couldn’t let yourself give into him. 

You sat in your room one night, writing in your journal, keeping yourself busy as Alicia rose from her bed and put on her shoes. “I’m going to head down to the common room to meet up with Katie. We’re gonna study in the library. You wanna come?” she asks with a smile. 

“I think I’m going to stay in. Thanks though,” you tell her before she slips out of the room. The door closes behind her as you shut your journal and huff, resting your arms on your shoulders. 

Rising from the bed, you look out of your window and look at the beautiful Scottish scenery that was slowly being covered in snow. It was gorgeous, the green grass being covered in powdery white snow that shimmered in the late afternoon sun as it set in the horizon. You smiled to yourself softly as you watched the snow fall from the sky. 

It brought you back one of the days it snowed three years ago. George had pounded on your door to put on snow shoes and your jacket. He insisted it was packing snow, perfect snow for a snowball fight. Of course, you had gotten ready in a flash, you, the twins, Katie, and Alicia all running outside of the castle to hurl snowballs at each other, laughing and squealing as the cold snow hit your skin. You remember Fred sneaking up behind you and dumping a chunk of snow down your shirt as you yelped out before smacking him with a snowball as he cackled. With a sneaky smile, you jumped on his back and did the same, shoving a snowball down his shirt as he yelled out, the cold snow melting against his warm skin. “Oh, you’ll pay for this one, (Y/L/N),” he called as you ran away from him with a giggle.

The memory made you smile, but was soon interrupted by the sound of pulsating music coming from what sounded like the common room. “What the hell?” you whisper to yourself as you slowly start to register the music as ABBA. “Good Godric,” you huff as you realize that Dancing Queen is the song being blared from the common room. You angrily slip on a pair of trainers before opening the door and making your way down the stairs. “Ever hear of the silencing spell?” you grumble.

As you descend the stairs, you start to call out, “Oi! Some people are trying to study! Would you knock it off?” 

But as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop in your tracks as Fred stands in the middle of the common room, the boom box blaring ABBA, in his hands, a hand picked bouquet of the flowers from the courtyard. The same ones from the Yule Ball. Your eyes meet Fred’s as he turns off the boom box. “Fred,” you speak quietly.

“Hey,” he smiles at you. “I, um, I want to make a grand romantic gesture like they do in those muggle movies. I don’t know how successful the execution was. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” he gives a shaky laugh as you gulp, looking at him puzzled as to what this all was. Fred inhales shakily before speaking, “Angelina and I are over.” Your eyes widen and your heart stops. “Look, (Y/N). I haven’t been able to sleep since the Yule Ball. And I know that what I said to you that night was so uncalled for and so childish and stupid of me and I will forever be sorry for it. But what you said. About being hopelessly devoted to me. That keeps playing in my head on repeat.” You fold your arms across your chest and awkwardly shift your balance, trying to stay calm at his words. “And you said, since you can’t get over me, that I’ll have to do it. But truth is, (Y/N), there is no getting over you,” he sighs with a hopeful smile as you look up at him, heart beating against your rib cage. “I’m not letting go of you. I’m holding onto the very end of it all because you’re the one that I want. I want you and you only. And it took almost losing you to realize that. And I’m a dickhead for not realizing it earlier, but I’m just hoping that there is a part of you that still wants me,” he tells you as you look at his trembling hands, a small smile forming on your face. 

You walk towards him slowly until you are face to face with Fred, looking into his worried, but hopeful eyes. You smile and pluck the bouquet from his hands as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Nice flowers, Weasley,” you tease him as he smiles. 

Fred puts one hand on your hip, pulling you close to him as he cups your cheek with the other hand. “I’m not saying we need to dive into things right now, if you want to take things slowly, then I’m more than happy to do that,” he tells you as you sigh. “I want to prove to you that I will be completely devoted to you, angel. I want to prove that I’m not going anywhere. I can’t hide it anymore. I am devoted to you.”

A goofy grin appears on your face as you give into Fred’s touch with a sigh. “Freddie, I do want to take things one day at a time,” you tell him as he shakes his head, still overjoyed at the thought that you would still have him. A small giggle escapes your lips. “You are quite adorable when you’re excited,” you tell him as he rolls his eyes. “I’m out of my head for you, Weasley.”

Fred pulls you impossibly closer to him as he sighs, “I’m head over heels for you, my darling.” And slowly, Fred presses his lips against yours as you melt into his touch. For once, things felt right.

[fallencrowns]

@storiesung​  |  plotted starter

All it took was a little rumour to plant the idea in his head. The Imperial Faberge eggs, a lost treasure all on their own but hardly the big SCORE that he was after. Maybe he could sell those off as well but it was a far cry from what he was really after: The Oponskoye Kingdom. Supposedly. Allegedly. Honestly, Nate heard about it in some big pompous den Sully had invited him to so there was really no telling just how legit those claims were. For all he knew, it was just a bunch of rich guys talking out of their asses to try and IMPRESS one another. And people like that said that people like him were the DISHONEST ones. If Nate had learned anything, it was to never trust a guy with a wad of cash that could buy as many goons as he needed.

❝  Private collection, Schmivate schmollection,  ❞  he muttered to himself, slipping into the basement of one of those same guys with way too much money on his hands and gaudy art along the walls. If this was his BIG SCORE, he’d at least have some taste about his decorations. But tracking down one of the ‘lost’ eggs had taken some time along with gathering a couple of the others whose locations actually were known and one other lost one he’d managed to find in a garage sale. Cliché, much? This time, it turned out it was just in the hands of some COLLECTOR that wasn’t keen on letting the world know that it had been found and letting them continue to believe it was lost.

Probably because of guys like him, here to take it.

The basement was absolutely littered with treasures. Maybe if Nate were a COMMON THIEF, this could be his jackpot. But passing up on the jewels hidden behind cases or the safes probably holding their own hoards of treasure, Nate’s eyes were only on the center piece of it all: the Faberge egg. The Royal Danish egg. Light blue with gems glinting off its surface from the overhead lights. Nate let out a small whistle and the pure sight; the photo really didn’t do it JUSTICE. 

The alarm had already been disabled, the first thing he had taken care of when breaking into the manor. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice for a while longer and give him time to make his great escape. Soundproof walls of the basement and security was probably already on the other side of the manor based on how he had tracked them, it gave Nate the perfect chance. Gun in hand, the man brought the butt of the weapon down, SMASHING the glass encasing it. The one moment passed, then another, and no sounds of footsteps or of an alarm blaring in the background.  ❝  Nate, one. Rich guy, zero.  ❞  A small chuckle as a grin started to wash over his features at the sight of the egg without the glass coming between him and it.

Never mind the fact that he hadn’t been able to get the other eggs to drop their supposed ‘clues’ to some lost paradise, he could just focus on GATHERING them first. The second step of actually locating the place could come later.

❝  I’m pretty sure this is probably the fanciest easter egg hunt in history. Now, come to papa.  ❞  Tucking the gun back in his holster, Nate carefully reached in with both hands, avoiding the shards of glass left, to grasp hold of the Faberge egg and pull it free from it’s casing. It wasn’t exactly his STYLE to keep around once this was all over. Maybe the world would just appreciate the fact that it had been found at last. Once he sold it ANONYMOUSLY, of course. Didn’t need to link himself to a break-in.