#half the areas in dai are very interesting in theory don’t get me wrong . but plot wise??? half of them are not needed

[bitalis]

what were the reasons for the horse being around if they couldn’t even sprint,, why have them at all

[mr-entj]

Hello Mr. ENTJ,

I have read a few of your posts. And I must say, they are truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and passing on to others.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

I have been struggling with this particular function for three years now. Some days I like how my progress is going. Some days I overuse it to the point of going into unhealthy loops, and on others I am clueless as to how I KNOW I am misusing Te, just don’t know what is specifically going wrong.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

As the daughter of an ENTJ 8w7, one of my goals is to become as logical and effective as half of what my dad is and has accomplished.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better? Me (ENFP 2w3) being too ‘soft/sensitive’ for the taste of my dad doesn’t help much. We can barely ever figure out what is going on inside each other’s heads. It’s as if it’s two apart worlds, and I’d risk to say I feel I have more in-common with my INTJ brother than with my ENTJ dad (come on, Te-Ni and Ni-Te shouldn’t be too different. Just thinking of my INFP pals, they’re lovely beings I feel I share a lot in-common with them. Flawed logic? Perhaps.)

If you can answer these, it’d be helpful. Coming from a successful, seemingly healthy ENTJ.

Thanks for supporting the blog.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

To develop/progress Te, see this post.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

In the short bursts, strong and focused for things they're personally interested in. Very energetic, infectious, and productive.

In the long term, inconsistent and flaky with significant drop off after the fun phases are over (brainstorming, ideation) and it's time to actually do the difficult and not fun work (execution). The exact point this happens is a few days/hours after the execution phase starts and the excitement fades. This is when the wheels come off the wagon and things go to hell.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better?

For starters, I wouldn't make it a goal to change who you naturally are and how you operate simply because someone disagrees with it. Parent or not. Unless you're actively harming yourself, it's not a personality disorder or a problem to solve, it's just a personality quirk and a quality to accept.

Off the top of my head:

Set and enforce boundaries. ENTJs will step over lines they don't know exist because they assume that other types communicate as bluntly as they do. Spoiler alert: they don't. Make sure your dad knows they exist or else he'll trample over them unintentionally.

Identify what they're excellent at and learn from them. Pretty much every TJ I know is an expert in a particular field and can't shut up about it when asked. What's your dad's area of expertise? Learn more about it, ask him about it, and try it. This is a great starting place to bond.

Share only the problems you want solutions to. And if you don't want solutions, tell them up front. Most TJs (ENTJ, INTJ, ESTJ, ISTJ) will interpret sharing issues as asking for our input because we're natural problem solvers. Be clear that you're only looking to vent.

Acknowledge the facts, even if you don't agree with them. ENFPs are dreamers who go for moonshots (ambitious but unlikely goals). There's nothing wrong with dreaming big, but being too impractical and neglectful of reality can make you look delusional. This will annoy all TJs, not just the xNTJs. You can acknowledge the facts without killing your dreams. Work with your dad to brainstorm solutions to those problems, not to deny they exist. It's a good intellectual exercise and solid bonding opportunity.

Be considerate of their time. If you're not committed to acting on a plan, don't bother them for advice, and more advice, and more advice. Talking and talking and talking without any action is exhausting at best, and infuriating at worst. This is one of my main gripes with all perceivers especially when it comes to career coaching. They'll get excited about a plan, ask for my input, I'll invest time and energy into building it, and then they'll abandon it. In the long run, it'll damage your relationship with an ENTJ because you'll appear flaky and they'll respect you less because of it. A person's word is their bond, make sure your words hold a lot of weight.

[marta-bee]

I recently bought Susan Dimmock’s “Classic Readings and Cases in the Philosophy of Law,” and today read the first chapter/selection on natural law. Is it natural to liveblog a textbook? Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m past caring about normality, more or less.

(Also posted to El Jay, but I heard some of you like philosophy, so I thought I’d share this here as well.)

I had a half-day off and wasn't meeting up with the Kid until later, so I read the first chapter of my legal philosophy textbook this afternoon. It was a mini-essay on natural law along with a series of selections from Aquinas. Which is such an odd place to start in a lot of ways because it's so based in a whole other political system than our current one. I mean, I focused so much on medieval philosophy and know quite a lot about him though more other areas than the social/political philosophy this was pulling from. And it had a nice nostalgia factor for me. Still, it felt like starting your study of astrophysics by reading a treatise by Ptolemy.

I did find the way the intro-essay framed natural law to be really interesting, though. Basically it says that law is something not dependent on human minds creating it, and it's in our power to discover it. That's a very medieval way of defining "real," or close to it. Not real in the sense of being physical but the kind of thing that would still be true whether or not anyone created a theory or law based on it. It's the kind of thing we can get right or wrong, and we can't just make any law we want. The bits of Aquinas excerpted were a bit vague on the specifics, which is probably good --as I recall Aquinas's politics can get really mired in his metaphysics of authority and where power originates from really quickly, probably way too complicated for present purposes-- but it's definitely based in what's in the common interest. If an emperor (or a democratic society) makes a law demanding people give half their salary to cater to the uber-rich's comfort, while people lie starving in the street that could have been helped with that money, we'd all probably recognize that as an unjust law. Aquinas would go further and say it's no law at all, because it's not geared toward the natural purpose of law, which is justice and what's good for everyone, not just those making the laws.

It's an interesting idea but seems like it would be way too easy to abuse. There's too much danger in allowing people to decide individually that a certain law doesn't apply to them so they're under no obligation to obey it, and I think a society needs a way to collectively say, part of being a part of our group means working within certain rules, even if you disagree, and that if you don't like the law you need to work to change it not just disregard it. Aquinas himself doesn't actually allow for that, but if we're not all in agreement about what the common good actually is, I'm not sure how we keep moderns with our individualistic sympathies from pushing too far in that direction. I was also concerned it didn't give enough credence to individual rights in the face of what's good for the whole society.

I do like the fact it's tied to morality. My starting question was why we should make things illegal or legal if it's not because they're good or right. This side-steps all that by saying, that's exactly what the law's about. It's about identifying what's good and forcing people who weren't already going to act that way to do that. But then it ties us into that whole ethical project I'm sure a lot of people would like to avoid. Even if "good" is real and we can discover it, do I really trust my fellow citizens to all do the work of finding that out? How often do we agree what's in the common good, really?

Which is probably the biggest problem for me here. It's not that natural law is wrong, it's that it's not what we're trying to do in modern democracies when we make laws. In practice, I mean. Because natural law is about having an actual intelligence identifying what's good and making pronouncements based on that. There's an intellect at the heart of it; or perhaps a few intellects who are reasoning together. But democracy isn't about what some small group identified as right, it's about what ideas were popular enough to get the most votes, with no guarantees that voters are well-informed or acting on good motives. And it's about what lawmakers happen to be in a politically powerful position- all fairly random, unreasoned elements. And even with court cases, even at high level like the Supreme Court, they're less arguing about whether a certain law is just, and whether it contradicts some other law or precedent. The rightness of the law seems like such a small part of it. Maybe with international law where there are less adapted frameworks and more reasoning together based off rights, there's more room for this kind of effort. But at a national level, it just doesn't seem like the political process makes space for what natural law needs.

I will say this, though: I wanted to know more. Natural law was intriguing, and I liked the idea that not everything a person in power decrees as law has the force of law, even as that idea scared me. I'd like to read someone more modern explaining how natural law fits into a democracy. And for a short introduction, "tell me more" is high praise indeed, at least coming from me.

I do suspect my own political leanings are more in line with a kind of social contract we've all agreed to work with, rather than set of moral principles some philosopher-king has the right to identify and impose on the rest of us. Maybe there are certain things we have no right to agree to live under, that it's irrational to accept a social contract built around not having the right to do them anymore. Which makes me seem vaguely Kantian; something I never thought I'd say.

Ah, well. It will be interesting to see where the next chapters lead.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell. 

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead. 

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide. 

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school. 

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them. 

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents. 

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class. 

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that. 

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him. 

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you. 

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.” 

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it. 

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.  

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait. 

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something? 

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him. 

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of  it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it? 

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart. 

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was. 

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip. 

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school. 

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke. 

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya. 

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous. 

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you. 

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues. 

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof. 

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys. 

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him. 

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out. 

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’. 

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight. 

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong. 

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

[reidyoulikeabook]

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading  you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.” 

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 3

a/n: yall i love seijoh so much like theyre my favorite school and my favorite boys and i know their names by heart and im just so SOFT for them !!!!!

also: yall will find out what other fandom ill be writing for in the future in this one

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

combined two anon requests:

- Could we get the boys reacting to finding out the seijoh manager is quite popular to both genders?? Maybe they over hear a confession?

- Why do I feel like half of the team would be all pouty when word comes around that a guy confessed to manager, the others would probably be annoyed/irritated. Oikawa being all bratty cause no matter what he tried,she never showed ant interest when he flirts. But now this boy comes alone ... (but like you said manager is too focused in school and the team)

MY HEART WAS RIPPED OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROWN INTO A BLENDER WHEN I SAW THIS PART OR JUST WHEN SEIJOH LOST IN GENERAL BC MY BABIES WORKED SO HARD AAAAAAA

oof girl the world is ending

so basically,,,,,

the entire just magically knew about what happened earlier and yahaba’s theory of team telepathy really does work bc not even a minute after it happened, they all spammed you messages and next thing you knew, oikawa was naruto-ing down from the 3rd floor to your class in the first floor

tbh, they shouldve seen this coming yanno?

you were ridiculously pretty and you carried yourself w such elegance and grace that it just seemed to hypnotize everyone into stopping what they were doing and watched you in awe doing the most mundane things like walking or sitting

lmao couldnt be me

your confessions usually happened over letters bc either tol boys kunimi or kindaichi are usually around you at all times so theyre too scared to do anything

hence why your locker was always filled with envelopes yet no upfront public confessions

it ranged from upperclassmen and upperclasswomen who expressed their interest in you and wanted to date you and get to know you better

but tf you dont even know them and you werent about to date a whole stranger

this made the boys a little peeved because you were popular with both the boys and the gals so they were constantly on edge on who was talking to you

it was like having an oikawa 2.0 but not indulging them and pretending theyre not even there

like when you walk to class and sit down, they would flock over and offer you drinks and snacks but you either turned them down or just flat-out ignored them

maybe this was what fueled others on more

your reserved attitude and your refusals made it look like you were playing hard to get and it was almost like a game on who could win the heart of the princess of seijoh

this was proven really difficult because not only do they have your dismissals, you also had guard dogs at every corner and would bite their head off at the slight indication of an interaction

however,,,,

today,,,

this morning,,,,

at 7:53 AM,,,,

they saw you walking down the hallway with a purple-haired boy holding your bag and you giggling at what he was saying

um EXCUSE ME MAAM WHAT

EVERYONE HAS BEEN TRYING TO GAIN YOUR AFFECTIONS FOR MONTHS YET YOU ARE HERE INTERACTING WITH A MALE WHO NO ONE EVEN KNOWS

ESPECIALLY SINCE HE WAS A MALE WHO WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE RIGHT NEXT TO YOU AND HE WASNT A MEMBER OF THE TEAM

!!!!!

and ofc, the boys would immediately know even though theyre spread all over the school

it was kyoken who saw you as he was leaning against your locker and his eyes narrowed before he secretly took a picture and sent it to yahaba, asking if there was a new guy who entered the team while he was away

when he replied with a panicked, ‘NO WHO IS THAT’

kyoken was already advancing to you

yahaba-san immediately sent the picture to the team group chat, that excluded you rood, and oikawa wasted no time and even pushed some fangirls so he could go to you

‘-and she destroyed my sheets’

you laughed at the story and hitoshi stared at you with awe in his eyes

how can someone laugh so beautifully?

like a snort should be considered ugly and gross but it was like cute little squeaks from you and he thought you were like a fairy

‘oh god, i wasnt-’

you were cut off with a hand that held your arm

you came face to face with the glaring face of one of your boys and you immediately turned to him in concern, immediately grasping an arm with the other hand on his cheek to look for any cuts

he rarely comes to you on a normal basis so you thought something was wrong

‘whats wrong, kyo-san? did you get into a fight? do you need me to patch you up?’

he didnt care what you were saying, instead heatedly glaring at this new guy, and grunted a response to agreeing with you going to the nurse

just anywhere to get you away from this,,,, stranger

‘toshi i have to-’

then you were cut off again

‘YYYYY/NNNNNNN-CHHHHHAAAANNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

‘OI SHITTYKAWA!’

‘OIKAWA-SAN!’

‘OIKAWA!’

‘CAPTAIN!’

from behind you, 5 tol looming figures were running towards you and next thing you knew, you were in the arms of your captain

‘oikawa-san! what are you doing?!’

oikawa held you tightly against his chest and had his arms tightly around your form to prevent you from being taken away

most of the volleyball team were now circling you and pointedly glaring at the poor boy who was so confused that he wasnt bothered by the death glares

‘oh, its you’

kunimi grumbled

‘kunimi, whats happening?’

hitoshi questioned

you fought away from the hold of oikawa and pushed mattsukawa and hanamaki to stand in front of shinsou hitoshi

‘so sorry about this, toshi. i’ll help you with your room later and ill text you when practice is finished, okay?’

you sheepishly smiled and he nodded, his own smile reassuring you

‘yep. ill see you later then’

‘bye’

you softly said and he turned to walk away

but as soon as he was out of sight, you turned around with a grim looking expression and your hands on your hips, a hard look in your eyes

‘boys, what was that?’

you gritted out

‘y/n-chan! don’t you see?! he was going to take you away! he was an intrude-OW!’

he yelped when you reached up and grabbed his ear before grabbing the other closest who was iwaizumi

they both whined and complained about the ear and slapped your hand but you didnt let up

‘he is a friend, oikawa-san. you have no right on who i can be friends and who i can hang out with because i still have a life outside the team!’

you scolded and the others hung their heads low like puppies

‘sorry, y/n-chan’

oikawa mumbled and iwaizumi also mumbled his apology so you let go of them, dusting off your hands

‘and the rest of you, hold back your captain and dont intimidate him like that!’

‘sorry’

you sighed but ruffled their hair before turning to go to class

‘now, be good boys and dont bother others like this again’

‘yes’

they chorused and you nodded, satisfied

‘ill hold you to it!’

you shouted as you walked down the hallway

when you turned a corner, oikawa grabbed kunimi by the arms

‘you know him, dont you? who is he? what class? address? mother’s name? father’s name? age-’

‘oi stop it, shittykawa’

but despite that, iwaizumi looked at the younger, expecting answers as well

kunimi sighed

‘thats shinsou hitoshi from class 1-3. we have gym together’

and ‘we’ was kunimi and you since you were both in the same class so you constantly saw this shinsou boy?

nuh uh, dont think so, francisco

from the looks of it, you were still single and there was a pining from shinso’s part, maybe yours they dont know

and they were going to do everything in their power to keep you away from him

this was excused to them as protecting their manager from someone else and they werent going to let you be taken by someone else

during practice, they grilled you over your relationship with him

‘i honestly dont know why this is your business but if you must know, his adoptive father, aizawa-san, is my mother’s co-worker and i usually catsit for them. dont worry, we’re not dating. just friends, that’s all’

but they know it wasnt just a friendship type of situation

so when the 4 third years saw you being confessed to by this ‘friend’ outside, they almost toppled out the window as they tried to listen to what was being said

‘shittykawa get off my back!’

‘nuh uh! i want to see clearly!’

‘everyone needs to know that code red is happening!’

yall what

mattsun took a picture and sent it to the gc about their princess being confessed to 

no one replied, possibly too upset or too busy sulking

kyoken actually had to be excused outside bc he was glaring at everyone and everything and the teacher and students were so scared that they had to take him out of class

they were even more peeved when you just walked in like nothing happened

you didnt mention the confession to anyone else the whole day and when you entered the gym, it was very tense

the coaches even looked confused

‘did you guys fight?’

you questioned but no one answered

kunimi and kindaichi were playing with a ball and glaring at it as it hit the floor

the 2nd years yes including kyobabie were pouting to the side

the 3rd years looked annoyed and pissed off 

overall just not seijoh babie vibes

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today🧚✨

‘hey’

you gently said and walked to the captain to figure out what was going on

‘oikawa-san, what happened?’

‘are you dating him now, y/n?’

the seriousness in his voice shocked you and you took a step back in surprise

your expression made him think that you did accept the confession and he scoffed before walking away and doing a jump serve that sounded like a canon blasting

but you were actually confused and surprised that they even knew bc you were sure it was a secluded area where no one could see you

‘dating,,,? dating who?’

you asked to them and the 3rd years just knitted their eyebrows

‘dont play coy, y/n-chan’

oikawa hissed

‘no matter how many times i flirted or asked you on dates, you never said yes. never agreed or even showed a little bit of interest. on me!! your captain!!! but now!!! this little grape boy comes along and you suddenly start dating just because he has cats! what kinda bias is this?!’

he started ranting and whining and being a brat that you pinched his nose shut

‘oi, oikawa-san, are you jumping to conclusions again? first the hickey accident and now this?’

he made a whining noise for you to let go and rubbed his nose when you finally let go

you turned around to face the others and you sighed, massaging your temples

‘everyone, who spread this misunderstanding?’

no one pointed to anyone but their gazes settled on the thick eyebrow boy that you were sure wouldnt have ratted you out

a noise of surprise and betrayal escaped from you as mattsun quickly scrambled to get everyone to stop staring at him

‘MATTSUN-SAN! YOU-!’

you pointed at him and mattsun rushed forward to grab your hands before holding them close to his chest

‘y/n-chan, we just saw you when we were passing! it was makki who wanted to tell the others!’

the betrayal made iwa laugh but makki ran up to kick mattsun to the side

‘youre the one who committed the deed! i was merely suggesting it! it was iwaizumi who wanted to watch them first!’

‘IWA-SAN!’

you gasped at the normally chill third year and you didnt expect him to be the one who started it first

iwa panicked and held his hands out cautiously

‘y/n-chan, understand that i was just worried and i didnt want you to be outside by yourself after what happened, okay? i didnt know he was confessing to you’

you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose tightly

‘again! whoever and whatever happens in my love life is my business! mine! and only mine! you cannot control it and get angry at ME because i do want a boyfriend and i do want to experience dating bc i want to know how it feels to be loved like that! so i wont let a bunch of children stop me from having that!’

the third years shared a look before they they gave up and nodded in defeat

but oikawa was the most offended

‘Y/N-CHAN! I ASK YOU ON DATES ALL THE TIME AND I ALWAYS OFFER TO GIVE YOU THAT LOVE SO WHY CAN’T IT BE ME?! WHAT DOES THAT GRAPE HUMANOID HAVE THAT I DONT?!’

he whined and stomped his foot after crossing his arms and a pout on his face

you shook your head, not even bothering to answer that, and went to the others

‘dont be mad and be upset, okay? i refused him bc i have no time for a relationship when im too busy looking after my own boys. i really dont want to add another’

kindaichi and yahaba’s face scrunched as they rushed forward to hug you 

‘we thought you would leave us y/n-chan!’

‘stay as ours forever, okay?’

you were so relieved that they werent as aggressive as the oldests and gave each player their own favorite hugs

but you stopped in front of kyo, not really knowing how to hug him since youve never exactly showed any type of affection like that

so you were just awkwardly standing there with raised arms but he patted your head, you smiling and leaning more to his touch

‘hm, kyo-san, ya finally warming up to me?’

you teased but he scoffed, gently headbutting you with his forehead against yours

‘now, everyone! dont misunderstand and know that for as long as i will be a manager, i wont be in a relationship bc my time as a manager is too crucial since i would probably have to look after you so you dont get yourself to jail. a boyfriend is adding more boys in to that list and i dont want that. you will be my boys forever and i wont be taken from you so please trust on me and stop being so overprotective bc i wont give them the affection or wishes they want!’

oikawa teared up and was about to go trample you but he was held back

‘no! i want a hug! i want a family hug! cmon, iwa-chan!’

practice went by quickly but you demanded them to do 10 diving laps in punishment for all the misunderstandings theyve created 

but they gladly did it bc it meant that you wont be taken from them and you would be theirs forever and their cute manager is going to pay attention to them and them only

i got serious yandere vibes from this but its so heartwarming that theyre so overprotective and lowkey you got yourself a harem

after practice, they all wanted to walk home with you but you told them that shinsou’s house was the other direction

‘y/n-chan! you said you wouldn’t-’

you rolled your eyes

‘oikawa-san, just because i refused that confession doesnt mean i will stop earning money. i still have to catsit for his family and earn my money!’

they only agreed when kyo said that he was walking that way too but they were still weary and jealous bc he got to spend more time with you than them

as you were both walking, you looked up at him

‘kyo-san, what type of hug do you like?’

‘hah?’

he looked down at you bc we short with wide eyes and flushed cheeks

you smiled and looked forward, skipping slightly

‘everyone in the team has their own special hugs. i want everyone to have one bc you all are individually special to me so-’

but he stopped walking and pulled arm before he lifted you up, making you squeak and wrap your legs around his waist

thank god you were wearing your tracksuit and not your skirt

‘k-kyo-san?’

bruh is it obv that kyoken is one of my favorite seijoh boys like bls love on him

he didnt want you to see his flustered expression bc he still has a reputation to uphold, yanno?

so he tucked it in your neck and you softly smiled before playing with the baby hairs at the base of his neck

‘you like this kind then, kyo-san? kinda aggressive but perfectly suits you, yanno?’

he just grunted and you laughed

he wasnt about to tell you that he liked holding you on his arms bc you were so tiny and so you that holding you like this makes him feel like he was protecting you and feel good about himself bc he gets to be the one who shields you from the world

yuhhhhh get it kyo

‘so yahaba-san told me that you got kicked out of class bc you scared the teacher and kids?’

you questioned and he left his spot on your neck and pulled his face back so you could clearly see his face

it was red and possibly flustered but you just snickered

he still held you by his strong arms so you were able to move your small hands to his face where he flinched at first but relaxed when you touched his cheeks

your fingers gently pulled the sides of his lips and you tilted your head to the side

‘you,,, look really handsome when you smile, kyo-san’

you whispered and he was so surprised that his tough mask fell and was replaced by wide eyes and his eyebrows rose up, the intimidating look disappearing from his eyes

‘i-i do?’

you bit your lip bc this was so different from the aggressive kyo you knew and you didnt expect this type of innocence that he just showed you

maybe he wasnt so innocent from the fights and arguments he has started or been in 

but he was so innocent to soft touches and compliments bc he wasnt exposed to it, only used to the ones that were said due to the aura he exuded or his looks

‘yep, you do. so keep smiling for me, kay? dont have to be around the others or all the time, but i,,, want to see it sometimes’

he blinked at you but quickly went back to your neck to hide the big smile that was threatening to come out

you felt his lips move and you laughed

‘noooo! kyo-san!!! i want to see your smilee!!! dont hide it!!!’

but it was cut short when a familiar shout was heard from the other side of the street that was near the school

it seemed that oikawa was worried about you walking alone with kyoken so he followed you both with the other third years

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan!’

he shouted in betrayal

you were about to get away from kyo’s hold but he tightened his grip and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, still staring straight at the captain

‘mine’

again, do you know what happened next?

oikawa screamed

this was actually pretty funny to write bc wowza oikawa is so oikawa and hes just so oikawa-like, yanno? and im still simping over kyoken and shinsou is my ult fave in bnha and i really love him like ugghhhh :’)

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Flesh, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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And now we come to what you’ve all been waiting for, the meat of this book {Editing Note: Boooo}. The gory details, such as they are, of how we acquire our flesh. It’s a topic that’s captured the public imagination for a long time - we’ve all heard plenty of lurid stories and speculation all our lives. I frankly wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve skipped straight to this chapter to finally hear it straight from the monster’s mouth. I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity. Understand, though - this topic is deadly serious, and more than almost any other subject I’ve covered, I’m aware of the danger inherent in revealing this. If the information I lay out here compromises these avenues of flesh, people will die for it. I will tell you as much as I can without risking that outcome.

{Editing Note: Everything after this needs strict review, and not just from me. Get as many eyes as possible on this before publishing.}

Nearly every ghoul has or will participate in the direct acquisition of flesh at some point. Finding food is an involved process, and not a particularly scaleable one. There are no factory farms for humans, nor should there be. Truly steady supplies of flesh are rare. Most of our methods involve gathering a small group of ghouls periodically, rather than just one or two of us working continuously. This, unfortunately, causes inconsistencies in supply more often than is comfortable. As such, we’ve had ample opportunity to figure out exactly how much flesh we need to survive. 

For the average mature ghoul, 5 pounds of flesh per day is the ideal consumption rate. Very roughly, we should be eating one adult human body per month for peak health. Put that starkly, it’s a grim picture. Extrapolate from that, and that means each of us is eating 12 humans a year. Obviously, we don’t eat that much from the moment of birth. I remember starting to get hungry more often around age 15, and I can count on one hand the number of ghouls I’ve met over 50, so let’s call the 35 years between those two ages our lifespan. Over the course of our lives, we will each eat over 400 humans. When you look at it from that angle, one life against 400, it’s no wonder that you have, as a whole, decided that we need to die.

But that angle misses some important subtleties. For one, we can handle some remarkably flexible feeding patterns. We can subsist on much less than an ideal diet for a very long time without serious ill effects. For example, I follow a fairly common feeding pattern and only eat half-meals three weeks out of every four. The only ill effects I notice are increased exhaustion and soreness, usually beginning towards the end of the second week and gradually escalating until the fourth. We can also go for multiple days without eating before noticing any ill effects. Many ghouls have only one or two very large meals each week. I personally prefer to have smaller meals more consistently - it makes me feel more human - but it’s a pattern I’ve followed plenty of times when flesh is scarce.

The other main subtlety that the math I presented above misses is that, often, we do not have to kill for flesh. People die all the time from causes that have nothing to do with us, and rarely in ways that make their flesh inedible. We have hardy constitutions and strong stomachs - most diseases and toxic chemicals can be processed and rendered inert in our digestive tracts. There are nearly three million deaths every year in the U.S. alone, the vast majority of which have nothing to do with us. If we could utilize all of that flesh, we could comfortably feed 250,000 ghouls without harming a single person. Obviously that’s never going to happen, but I also doubt there are that many ghouls in the country, so… Suffice to say that there is, theoretically, more than enough ethically-sourced flesh to go around.

Utilizing that flesh, however, is a significant logistical challenge. People aren’t in the habit of donating their bodies for our dining pleasure, and people tend to take the security of their loved ones’ remains pretty seriously. Taking flesh by force, even when we’re not trying to part it from a living body, is difficult, dangerous, messy work, so we prefer to sidestep that wherever possible. This brings us nicely to the first of our three main strategies: farming.

Farming is, unfortunately, our least productive method, but it’s the one that I hope we’ll be able to rely on entirely, some nebulous day in the future. Farming is the practice of discreetly smuggling dead flesh, produced by natural causes, out of the facilities where it is held. This is the only method we use that is sustainable, in the sense that it requires one or two ghouls working constantly and delivering a steady supply, rather than the periodic group efforts I described earlier. This method is also unusual in that it depends on us being integrated in human society, integrated enough to have unsupervised access to dead flesh.

There are two primary sources that we farm. First, there are hospitals. Countless surgical procedures result in the separation of flesh from living humans. Sometimes this flesh is passed along for scientific analysis, but most of it ends up classified as medical waste sooner rather than later. As I’ve said, though, we can safely handle most of the factors that cause limbs to be amputated or organs to be removed. Once these have been marked for disposal, ghouls working at the hospital can usually hide away the flesh for later retrieval without anyone noticing its absence. Unfortunately, caution requires our farmers to take less than is truly salvageable, given how damning it is to be caught stealing flesh. They also avoid taking whole cadavers, which are much more closely observed while in the hospital, and are typically handed over to other people rather than fully disposed of. We also, as a general rule, are careful to avoid eating anything cancerous. Tumors are something of a taboo, only to be eaten in times of extreme famine. We are as vulnerable to cancer as humans are, and there is a strong fear that eating tumors may cause you to absorb some of the cancerous cells into your own body, where they will be free to grow again. I can’t speak to the truth of that, but it’s not a fate I’m interested in tempting.

Our other main farming source is funeral homes. Contrary to popular perception, and to government defence policies, we actually have very little interest in robbing graveyards. By the time bodies go in the ground, they’ve usually been rendered inedible by embalming practices. Given how robust our digestive tracts are, it’s my theory that embalming practices were, at some point in history, specifically designed to protect human bodies from us. Obviously not all bodies are properly embalmed, but there’s no way to tell that without digging one up, and digging up a grave is hard. It is far more beneficial for us to intercept the bodies before they get to that stage. Therefore, we find it very valuable to train as morticians. This allows us to take cuts of flesh before a body is embalmed. Over the years, we’ve figured out exactly how much flesh can be taken and from where without showing at an open casket funeral. For closed caskets, or for cremations, we can take nearly the entire body without detection.

{Editing Note: That’s going to be upsetting for anyone who’s ever buried a family member. I’m not sure how to address that gently. I don’t know how receptive most people would be to “it’s okay that we ate your grandma because it means we got to live long enough to eat other people’s grandmas”.}

Unfortunately, there are a limited number of jobs with access to farmable bodies, and as the number of ghouls in those positions increase, so does the chance of one of them being discovered. Some of you, I’m sure, have seen how paranoid everyone gets when one of us is outed among you. We can’t even come close to fully utilizing these outlets without risking a lot of us dying. My household is fortunate - three of our members are farmers, and we may be gaining a fourth, depending on what degree Scarlet actually settles on. But that supply of farmed flesh is not always enough to feed all of us, and it certainly isn’t enough for Yaga’s charity projects. So about once a month, we send out a group to engage in our second method - gathering.

As I said, there are a lot of deaths that have nothing to do with us. Gathering is our attempt to get ahold of some of those dead before other factors take care of them. Death is, unfortunately, unpredictable, so the best we can do is send people out at irregular intervals to scoop up what we can. A gathering party typically consists of at least half a dozen ghouls; the exact size depends on the amount of ground we want to cover, how many bodies we expect to be transporting, and how worried we are about getting into a violent confrontation. Ideally, no one gets hurt by our gathering parties, but no one is going to look too kindly on body snatching, and sometimes we just attract the wrong kind of attention. If we need an especially large group, or if we intend to cover a particularly large area, we might even reach out to other households for extra help in exchange for a share of our find.

A gathering run typically begins at night, in the poorer parts of the city. I’m sure gathering happens in rural areas, but I can’t speak to their methods. In the city, though, it’s the poor and the homeless and the addicts, the abandoned of human society that are most likely to die somewhere we can get to them. So we put on anonymizing clothing and start looking. Our most reliable leads come from homeless communities and drug sites. Sometimes it’s enough to just show up, make small talk, and look around for the dead or imminently dying. If it’s the latter, sometimes we just wait - keep them company while they wait for the end. Unfortunately for us, people don’t generally die all at once at predictable intervals; it’s not uncommon for us to find no bodies at all. Fortunately, there are some people who are desperate enough to sell us leads. Buying leads is a dangerous game - any person who knows us to be ghouls, even if we take pains to conceal our identities from them, is one more person who could bring the exterminators down on us - and the more effective the method of gathering leads is, the more dangerous it is. The safest thing is to find a stranger and offer them money for a lead, one time deal, and never contact them again. Regular contacts have more opportunities to expose us, whether for exterminator money, moral duty, or just by being careless, but if they know to expect us, they can amass leads, or sometimes even hold bodies for us to buy off them directly. I’ve heard that some households even have arrangements with organized crime to act as free, efficient body disposal.

Once we’ve thoroughly checked these areas, the next step is to check accident sites. Typically we’ll separate to stake out common suicide and accident sites. These aren’t particularly reliable either, but they turn up bodies often enough to be worth staking out once we’ve exhausted our more proactive options. Sometimes, on particularly slow gathering parties, we’ll break out a police scanner and listen for any incident reports likely to produce a body and see if we can get there before the cops. It’s a dangerous game, and often no more lucrative than our other approaches, but there is nothing more depressing or upsetting than coming back from gathering empty handed. Coming home empty handed means we need to take more drastic measures.

I’ve been on around a dozen gathering parties so far. Most of them went well enough, with minimal incident and moderate success. I’ve been on two where we had to chase police scanners. And I’ve been on one that came back empty-handed. That isn’t the only one my household has ever run that came back empty-handed, but it’s the one that stuck out most in my mind because it’s the one time I felt personally responsible for what happened next. When our regular gathering still doesn’t produce enough flesh, we have three options, none of them pleasant. We could all tighten our belts, ration our flesh carefully, and try to endure until we can make up our shortfall. There are a lot of factors that can make this approach unsafe, though. Starving isn’t any more pleasant for us than it is for humans, and it can make us less careful than is safe. Or sometimes someone is injured or sick and wouldn’t be able to handle stricter rationing. Our next option is to organize a gathering raid. There are plenty of hospitals and funeral homes that we can’t farm, for one reason or another, but sometimes we can steal from them. This is a high-risk endeavor, obviously. Anywhere that handles human remains is on the lookout for this kind of thing, and even if we get away clean, the raid will almost certainly make the news and bring exterminators sniffing around. That’s not even touching the fact that, just because we aren’t farming somewhere, that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. The kind of scrutiny a raid draws can be a death sentence for any ghouls working at the raid target. So, most of the time, Yaga chooses to take our third option. She calls for a Hunt.

{Editing Note: I need to talk to Spatha before I write the rest of this. I need to convince her that I’ll just listen this time, and then I need to actually do that. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to reopen this wound between us. I don’t want to risk our friendship. Is this project really worth that? Do I seriously think it will make a difference?}

[fallen-in-dreams]

More Than A Fairytale

Also on AO3. Pairing: Itachi/Sakura. Summary: The first boy that was ever nice to her was the last boy she’d be interested in. And it just so happened to be *him*. He was her soulmate. She was sure of it. ItaSaku. Non-Mass. Prompt: Soulmates. Rated: T. Words: 4,245. Status: Complete. Author note: This is non-mass but with the nine-tails attack, though I won't be touching on it. At all. It turned out so fluffy and tooth aching and was a b*tch to write but it's here. Albeit late, though not too late. *hopefully* Enjoy. ^_^

Warnings/tags: Just for fluff, pining, light angst, etc.   

This is a LATE (but still before the cut off time) submission for itasakuweek2021​. Sorry for the delay @fm-white​​. Hope you’re doing well. Thanks for hosting this event. :)

  “For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.” – Judy Garland

  Sakura wanted to scream and throw things. This was the last time she was ever going to be nice to boys! Ugh! How her mother thought any boy was good enough for her, she didn’t understand. They were rude and mean and all the other gross things that Ino giggled about when they were in the back of the classroom. She joined the Academy to get closer to a boy and boy did she regret it. She thought she’d found the one. He was just as cute as her book said he’d be. And just as interesting. Her mother had given her The Book when she started showing interest in boys and it became her go-to for fairy tales.

Magic and romance were so pretty and gave her tingly feelings.

But Sasuke-kun was definitely not her soulmate. Someone who was meant for her was supposed to be nice to her. They were supposed to be helpful and interested in the things she had to say, not brush her off and call her annoying. According to The Book he wasn’t it. And she didn’t care that he was the cutest boy in her class. Sasuke-kun was mean!

“Aargh!”

Stomping out of the classroom, with her bag on her back and her book hugged to her chest, Sakura ignored Iruka-sensei when he called out to her. She just didn’t want to be in the same building as Sasuke-kun anymore! No. Wait. Drop the kun. She growled, elbowing her way past other students. He didn’t deserve that honorific anymore. She deserved better than him. Her soulmate wasn’t going to get her angry enough to want to throttle him.

Sasuke was too skilled with kunai and taijustu so she couldn’t beat him up. But one day, she was going to give him a punch that could break mountains! And then he might feel half as bad as he made her feel today. Sakura continued to fume as she left the Academy building and headed out to the training area before realising Iruka had sent an older student to check for her. She quickly redirected and left the academy grounds completely.

Sakura was a dedicated student who never left the grounds during school hours. She felt both scared and excited at the same time. Sasuke was the reason she’d gone there in the first place. But now she felt like it was just a lie. Her parents never pushed her to become a kunoichi. She just agreed to it.

What now?

Sakura sighed. She had no idea. But at least she still had her book. With nice pictures and big bold kanji. It said her soulmate would be nice to her, helpful, and always put her first. Someone out there was going to be nice to her, she still believed it. She just had to wait for them to notice her. None of the boys in the Academy cared about her and while she enjoyed the theory and found it easy, the workload in the training ground didn’t excite her. Being a ninja sounded scary. Thinking about Sasuke and how cool he was would get her head back in the game, but that was before.

She wandered aimlessly, unconsciously taking a long way back home. And she was reading The Book and not looking where she was going when Sakura banged into someone taller than her. They were like a brick wall, and adult sized. She hit him so hard that there was no way to steady herself. Sakura fell back against another person and then forward again as the crowd jostled her.

“Aah!”

Sakura tripped, throwing her arms forward to brace her fall and dropping her book in the process. She cried out again at the shock and pain when her hands hit the ground, then tumbled to land on her side.

“Damn kid.”

The shadow of the person who’d accidentally knocked her down moved away and was replaced by another, shorter than the last one but taller than her. His hand was soft too; he offered it to her, and she grasped it as tightly as she could with hers. He pulled her up and she cried out. Something was bruised. He wrapped an arm around her back like he was preparing to help her along when she tried to pull away.

“My book!” she gasped, looking around for it.

The boy turned them so she could spot it. Faster than she could move, he stepped forward and bent to pick it up for her. She dusted it off and raised her face to his as he hooked his arm around her again. Sakura blinked heavily, surprised by what greeted her. He was wearing a uniform. She gasped, recognising the gear. Sakura knew about Anbu. She’d read all about them. They were the best of the best and nobody could ever beat them. Except for the Hokage. A boy maybe five years old than her was wearing a mask and Anbu gear. An Anbu had helped her!

“Let’s get you somewhere I can check your wounds.”

He didn’t offer to take her to the hospital. But Sakura didn’t mind. Maybe it was out of his way. The Anbu boy lifted her off the ground and gently moved them to a bench the next building over, away from the crowd and people she might slam into again. Her head was spinning from the sudden movement, but she clutched her book tightly and didn’t complain. Anbu-san lowered her onto the bench and knelt down in front of her, inspecting the scrapes on her hands and knees.

“These don’t look too bad,” he said. “I have some salve on hand which should keep an infection at bay. But you’ll have to wash it thoroughly at home, okay?”

She nodded. “Thank-you, Anbu-san.”

She winced as he applied the salve but kept the smile on her face as best as she could.

“Call me Itachi,” he said.

“Really?” She looked up him as he cocked his head to the side. His mask reminded her of a weasel. “Is that your super-secret code name?”

He chuckled. “No.

“You need one.”

“Not for you,” he said, and she frowned. “Just call me Itachi.”

“You can call me Sakura.”

“A cute name,” he said, and she blushed. “Are you okay now?”

She nodded, lowering her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m silly. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t run away.”

He tilted his head at her but didn’t ask. Sakura sighed. She had wanted to be a ninja because of Sasuke but here she was, hopeless and getting fixed up like she was useless. “I wanna be strong. Like you, Itachi.”

He sat down next to her, and it didn’t occur to her childish mind to wonder why an Anbu was wasting time with her, a silly little girl. She didn’t see the small, sad smile behind his mask as she reminded him of his younger brother. Nor the way he pressed his lips together in frustration at how sad she looked.

“If you want to be strong,” he said. “Then be strong.” He glanced at her backpack and the Academy sticker she’d stuck to the side of it, thinking perhaps she’d done so proudly.

“You think so, Itachi-san?” She wiped at her eyes as tears threatened to fall. “You don’t think I’m too weak?”

“Everyone starts out weak,” he said. “But if you work hard enough and never give up, then yes, I think you can be very strong.”

Forgetting her earlier angst, Sakura puffed up her chest proudly. “I’m going to be a kunoichi!”

“With that attitude, no doubt.” He sounded amused.

She grinned up at him.

“How old are you, eight?”

“Seven,” she said excitedly.

“I have a brother your age. He’s in the Academy.”

Remembering why she’d run out of school, Sakura groaned. “I hate the boys my age.”

He chuckled. “They can be very annoying.”

She giggled. “Definitely.”

Sakura hugged her book to her chest. She thought of the fairy tale stories and how the book said her soulmate would make her feel better every time she was sad. “Itachi-san, do you know what a soulmate is?”

“Soulmate?”

The girl nodded her head enthusiastically. “I read all about them.” She placed the book on her lap. “Somewhere, everyone has another soul. Someone who completes them and is perfect for them.” She peered at him. “But I don’t know if you’re cute enough.”

She giggled again and he looked around for a moment before turning back to her then lifting his mask for a moment. She gaped but he just pressed a finger to his lips. Itachi was very cute. She blushed and fiddled with her book nervously as he gave her a soft smile. She liked the way it made his eyes crinkle as they closed. He replaced the porcelain mask.

“Don’t tell my captain I did that, okay?”

Sakura nodded seriously. “Promise.”

He stood and stretched for a moment. “I have to go now. Make sure to wash your wounds and see a medic.”

Sakura felt her heart drop. “Uh, Itachi-kun?”

He looked down at her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. So, to speak.

“Can… can we be soulmates?”

He didn’t respond at first and Sakura felt rejected. Did he hate her all of a sudden?

“Ask me again after you become a kunoichi,” he said.

“Oh, I will!” Sakura beamed at him as he bowed slightly.

“Goodbye, Sakura.”

She watched him as he took a few steps, waved back at her, and then took flight. Her mouth dropped open as he landed on the nearby roof and then disappeared.

He has to be my soulmate.

  .:.

  Sakura did not meet her soulmate again until years later. She didn’t even know anything about him other than his given name and the fact that he wasn’t a medic Anbu. It wasn’t until she met Kakashi-sensei and mentioned the incident off-hand that she discovered more about him. His Anbu mask had been distinctive enough (a weasel, which was ironic given this name), so she hadn’t explained that she’d seen his face. Which was a good thing, since it turned out Kakashi had been his Captain at the time. She kept her promise.

Itachi Uchiha.

Sasuke’s big brother.

Were the fates laughing at her or was it just fate? Sakura still believed that there was a soulmate out there for her, but she no longer held to the childish infatuation for it the way she once did. Plenty of shinobi had been nice and helpful toward her since that day. Just none that she’d been romantically interested in. She could still remember how kind and gentle Itachi had been and what was once childish infatuation had now blossomed into a long-standing crush. Even if nothing came of it, she would always look back on it fondly.

But Sakura never approached Itachi in the intervening years. Somehow, she’d painted this picture-perfect memory of that day and didn’t want it to be ruined by meeting the man in question in the flesh. Again. If he pissed her off, as was so easy to do she could admit, it would taint that day. It was like a fairy tale, her recollection of their meeting, and she wanted to preserve it.

Her avoidance of Itachi was made harder when Sasuke began (albeit grudgingly) inviting the team back to the Uchiha compound. Sakura always had somewhere else to be. She knew Kakashi was still friends with the man, and Naruto was raving about how “cool” he was after their first visit. But Sakura chickened out each time. She felt anxious every time their team finished a mission or sparring match and planned to head to the Uchiha home. The copy ninja was intelligent though, and sometimes she saw his knowing look in her peripherals. He wasn’t fooling her though.

He didn’t go either.

When Sakura approached Lady Tsunade about becoming her student it was six months before the Sandaime retired and the busty blonde was named his successor, much to her chagrin. She tried to get out of it but during a training healing session with Sakura, the pinkette mentioned how she was determined to surpass her teammates. A heart to heart about the struggles of the village and how the Uchiha were treated (brought on by Sakura’s still-a-secret-crush-on-Itachi) and a few days later, Tsunade had changed her mind.

So, it was at her inauguration after party (the first one in history since it was a stipulation of Tsunade’s acceptance) that she finally saw him again.

She wished she was old enough to get drunk. Legally.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He’d grown. Sakura did not need a moment to recognise that face again. He was still taller than her. Still so good looking. Years of repressed emotions caught up to her and she inhaled deeply, trying to keep them and her reactions under control. The boy she’d chosen as her soulmate had grown into a handsome young man. Meanwhile, she was still an awkward teenager.

“Itachi…”

“It’s been a long time,” he said, obviously recognising her right away too.

She still had faded marks on her knees where she’d fallen over that day. Sakura hadn’t gone to a medic like he’d suggested. She’d just happily skipped home and told her parents all about it. Getting rid of the marks would have made it like it had never happened.

Her young mind had been so silly.

But looking at Itachi now, a full head taller than her, toned and dressed to the nines… she couldn’t help but feel as enamoured as her child version had been.

“I’m surprised you remember someone so insignificant.”

The corner of his mouth twitched when she started shuffling her feet. Fifteen-year-old Sakura was adorable.

“On the contrary,” he said. “That was a very significant day for me.”

She blushed, lowering her head.

“It’s not every day someone asks me to be their soulmate.”

Sakura looked up at him and returned his smile. She felt her face heat up even further. She couldn’t get over how attractive he was. Years of picturing him didn’t do him any justice.

And now I’m acting like an idiot in front of him.

Sakura cleared her throat. “I was so pushy, Itachi-san. I’m surprised you were so nice to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, embarrassed. “I was a brat.”

“And now look at you. The Gondaime’s apprentice. Everyone has nothing but great things to say about you.”

“Have you been asking around about me?” She asked in jest.

“Yes.”

Her jaw dropped at his candour. She quickly shut her mouth. “Uh... that’s, um.”

“A little too forward. My apologies. I was simply interested in the incredible young woman you’ve become.” He leaned toward her, whispering in her ear, “I hope I haven’t offended you.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”

Boys didn’t normally spare her much time and she’d been training so much over the last few years that Sakura hadn’t even thought of rectifying that. Her crush on Itachi was so fierce that no-one else had remotely drawn her attention. Itachi cocked his head to the side and Sakura realised (in her fluster) that he had an earpiece on.

Is he on duty? Then where’s his mask?

Itachi listened for a moment before tapping the earpiece twice and turned back to Sakura. “You should come around next time Sasuke invites you,” he said, waving to her before disappearing into the crowd.

Damn.

She had no excuse now.

  .:.

  “Sakura!”

Sakura winced at the shrieking tones of her mother. She was procrastinating because her parents and Ino had planned a party for her eighteenth birthday, and the guest list included a certain Uchiha she’d been crushing on. She hadn’t been avoiding him for the past three years. Really. Just making sure she was never alone with him. She didn’t want to embarrass herself with this ridiculous crush. Because Itachi clearly saw her as just a friend, and because Sakura had made the mistake of letting Ino organise this whole thing, he’d been invited. Ino also knew Sakura had a thing for him and was determined to have him there when she “came of age” the hopeful romantic that Ino was. She sighed deeply as her mother called out again.

“Coming!”

Hold your horses.

She straightened herself, taking one last look at the mirror and the pink haired girl in the dark blue cocktail dress before leaving her bedroom. She’d chosen the dress style in honour of her now legal drinking age. Technically, being a ninja, she could’ve started drinking when she became a chunin (or turned eighteen, if that had come first). But it would’ve been frowned upon and seen as unprofessional. Her recently promoted jounin self was a new woman. She could do whatever she wanted.

Ino had insisted on holding the party at the Yamanaka Estate so that more people could be invited. She was intent on doing this with the entirety of the Konoha Twelve.

Sakura walked there with her parents in tow since they didn’t travel like ninja anymore, but she didn’t mind. It gave her time to prepare herself for the onslaught. She was surprised and disappointed when she didn’t see Itachi there. Her friends and comrades came up to her, hugging and wishing her a happy birthday. Naruto had set aside all the presents and Ino was in charge of the music. While Hinata had chosen the food – Chouji was still hurt by that, but Ino’s excuse was that Hinata’s palette was more refined. And the girl would cater to everyone. He grudgingly agreed he would have just brought barbeque flavoured everything.

Sakura laughed along with him when he admitted it and accepted his one-arm hug before he left to attack the buffet table. She found a corner of the hall to sit alone, now morose. She’d gotten dressed up and, even though the idea of running into Itachi scared her, had hoped he’d be here. It was a full hour before she felt the familiar chakra as he seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Sakura took in his appearance: a suit, nicely pressed, his hair back, his dark eyes intense. She was standing and leaning against a wall. He looked like he’d been waiting for her.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Sakura blushed, clasping her hands together. “Itachi-san.”

She took note of how his eyes travelled over her body and stiffened.

What the...?

“I brought a present,” he said, “but Naruto-kun insisted on putting all the gifts in one room.”

She nodded, unsure of what to make of his perusal. Itachi had a drink in one hand, no ninja gear, no earpiece. He seemed at ease. Now, she’d seen him out of uniform before, at Sasuke’s house, but he’d usually just been asleep after a long mission and was still tired. He was never chatty or had a pink tinge on his cheeks from some alcoholic beverage, like he did now. He seemed out of character. But not. If that made sense.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she heard herself say.

“How does it feel to be considered an adult?” He asked, leaning into to whisper in her ear.

She shivered at the close proximity to him. His breath fanned against her face and his scent was overwhelming. It was… masculine. She had no other word to describe it. He had no cologne or other smell on him. She’d heard that Anbu he could cover their scents, making it impossible for enemies to detect them. But she’d also never seen Kakashi do it.

That was definitely some cherry flavoured mixed drink on his breath.

Was he flirting with her? She hoped so. It wasn’t every day that Itachi Uchiha gave anyone attention, let alone some random girl. Even one who knew his brother. Sakura had only gone to the Uchiha compound a few times after Tsunade’s inauguration. Sasuke’s father had since pulled him out of Team Seven to prepare for Anbu – some time-honoured tradition among their family, apparently. His replacement was a former Anbu, ironically, named Sai, whom Ino had recently been fawning over. So now Sakura had more of an excuse not to go to Sasuke’s home, where watching Itachi treat her like a little sister was too painful. The past three years, Sakura had continued to nurse her crush, learning everything she could about him. It helped that Kakashi-sensei had been his captain once. She gave up on being embarrassed asking him about Itachi.

They continued to talk. Sakura felt like something in the air had shifted. He was being more talkative, friendlier, and standing closer to her. It was almost like he’d come out of his shell. It was both terrifying and electrifying. She quite liked it. But…

“Itachi-san?”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you drunk?”

Itachi chuckled. “Just enough.”

“For what?”

“Do you want to dance?”

Sakura gaped at him. A little voice in the back of her head told her to punch him to see if he was someone else in disguise. But if this was indeed Itachi, she’d never live it down. She decided to accept and ask him things that only they both would know. At least for the sake of her sanity. So, she nodded her head, and he threw back the last of his drink before guiding her onto the floor. Sakura watched with fascination and shivered as he slipped his hands onto her body. He must’ve had professional training because they were the only ones doing some version of a waltz while the rest of the guests were dancing either in tune to the rapid beat or to their own.

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asked, interrupting her plan to test him on it. She nodded. “You were so sad and cute.” Sakura flushed, gripping his arms tightly. He continued, now whispering in her ear. “I was patrolling for… uh, reasons I can’t tell you. Anbu, you know.” She nodded again. “My team were out of sight, my captain following the target. Hm.”

He hummed lightly, now stroking her hair. Sakura looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

Kakashi looks interested.

She felt herself flush again, so she turned away from him and focused on the mildly inebriated man holding tightly to her.

“I remember,” she said. “What was it you said to me? About being a kunoichi.”

Please be Itachi.

He pulled back and looked at her, a little confused. She felt her heart plummet in the few seconds it took him to remember and then her breathing deepened at the intense look on his face.

“If you want to be strong, then be strong. Everyone starts out weak. But if you work hard enough and never give up, you won’t be weak.” He looked so cute, trying to remember it word for word.

She let out an uncontrollable snort. “You’re drunk.”

“Not really. Just buzzed.”

“You don’t normally speak so readily with me.”

He sighed, leaning in to whisper in her ear again. “You asked me to be your soulmate, remember?”

She nodded, realising suddenly that he was confessing something.

“I didn’t think much of it for a long time. You were just some cute little kid that I helped out when she got hurt. That’s all.” He sighed again. “But we met again at Lady Tsunade’s inauguration, and you were all grown up. Almost. Sasuke called you annoying.” He held her tighter when she stiffened at that. “But you aren’t. Naruto-kun raved about you when he visited. A little crush that soon went nowhere. And Kakashi-senpai… he was cautious. I think he knew.”

“Knew what?”

Itachi pulled away and cradled her face in his hands. “Ask me again.” And her confused look he added, “to be your soulmate.”

“Ask me again after you become a kunoichi.”

Sakura licked her lips. “Will… will you be my soulmate?”

She felt like she was asking him to be her valentine. But forever.

He stared into her eyes. The rest of the guests fell away, and it was just the two of them as he appraised her. “Yes,” he said. “If you’ll still have me.”

When had Itachi Uchiha fallen in love with her?

The next thing she knew, he was pressing his lips to hers and Sakura was losing herself in the feel of him. He tasted of cherry, which was funny because that was a flavour not usually attributed to him. They continued to hold each other, just gently entwined and kissing softly. Everything was falling into place, and she could barely keep up.

Eventually, Itachi pulled away, smiling softly down at her.

“You read a book on soulmates. You heard all kinds of rumours of what Team Ro gets up to. Wait—” he said when she tried to interrupt. “You heard tales of Anbu and made stories in your head from what little Kakashi-senpai told you. But,” he leaned in closer, their lips almost touching, “I thought maybe you’d like to believe in something more than a fairy tale, for once.”

Sakura nodded and initiated the next kiss, adding more pressure to it this time. “I’d love to.”

They didn’t need some cosmic or magical sign to know they were meant to be.

[prof-peach]

Has any wild pokemon came to your place to seek help, and if so what was it like?

Well yes actually, because of our location and the distance between us and johto, we get a lot of Pokemon who stop for a rest between land masses at our lab. If they come in injured from battle, or sick from bad weather on their travels, the other Pokemon that hang around the island will pick up on it, and direct them to one of the professors, usually whoever’s closest at the time.

We get an awful lot of water types as you’d expect but I don’t really deal with them, that’s Professor Grey’s area, he’s not nervous in water like I am so he’s able to give more accurate and effective care. I will help from time to time but only really on the little land dwelling ones. The oddest water type we had turn up was a lotad. Hear me out, we’re no where near Hoenn, like at all, we don’t get them in johto, at least not wild, and the ones we get given are Pokemon we know and have helped, so we knew it wasn’t one of those. This little thing washes up on the beach along the north side, and if you’ve read anything about the island before you’ll know the North is fenced off, a zone for Pokemon to go to get away from the public, and is generally quite hostile, and off limits to guests without explicit permission and a guide. So this Lotad is found, luckily by a reasonable middle aged Ursaring, and suddenly we get a knock on the door in the middle of the night, this big mountain of a bear Pokemon holding the smallest little lotad, the thing was full of seawater and had burns form the salt and mould forming. He spent a week and a half in the ICU with strict climate control and a course of medication tailored to his species, all the while we’re all scratching our heads about how he got to us. We’d had no visitors so he couldn’t be a stray or released Pokemon, the weather was good so no storm could have carried him to us, he was alone, no trainer, no friends, no family. Ships pass through but could he have jumped off and ended up with us? We all have our theories, I personally think he got carried a fair way from home by a flying Pokemon, and dropped by accident. Either way he’s since become the little champion of our care program, he’s recovered in leaps and bounds and lives a very comfortable life in th entropic house, in the indoor pools with some Relicanth and the other little lotads, a few surskit. Happy Pokemon for sure now, we’ve had a porygon translate what he has to say but he doesn’t remember anything before waking up in the labs care unit. We just count him as the luckiest Pokemon we know, considering the terrible shape he came to us in. Must have been floating around the ocean for days.

We also get a heap load of flying types that rest between locations during migration, some of those do seem to have the odd issue which we tend to, our favourites are the migrating Fletchling that fly on through for the winter, they give a fiery display, filling the sky with little embers. Sure, fire risk, but also consider this, beautiful? We have water Pokemon on standby during this time, and usually anything that catches is caught pretty quickly. I do find the flying types will return. When some come through, and we notice them and help where we can, they’ll eventually leave to continue their journey, and then a year later they come back again, this time with families, friends, some even bring their whole flock, just because we built some trust with them that one time. We have pidgeot that repeatedly return to the island, all because we’ve patched up like several members of their family, they’re regulars to us now, and even between seasons of migration, they’ll return to see if we can help, or offer information should they encounter issues. I must say once one knows about you, the rest do pretty fast. I will forever remember fondly, gardening in peace, not a single problem to be dealt with, and then the sky went black and I couldn’t see the ground anymore, because SO MANY murkrow had landed all at once, they blocked out the light, they covered every post, every piece of dirt, all by demolished the berries I’d been growing all season. Why you may ask? Because I had hatched one random egg I found on my travels, had no idea at the time what it was, and I carried this thing around with me everywhere. When it hatched it was a little Murkrow, a little different in appearance, with a striking flash of blue under his little wings. I gave the thing a good start and sent it on it’s way. No big deal.

Wrong.

This little one was a lost egg from a boss Honchkrow’s clutch, how did that big boss bird know it was his child? He was the start of the variation, the bright blue under his wings. So yeah, he told them all about us, and how to get to the island, and we ended up with a HUGE amount of them, trying to bring things to repay the debt. Some found shiny items, others berries, unusual mushrooms, neat looking twigs, bottle caps, pins, buttons. To this day some of those Pokemon still hang out here, kind of dug it enough to want to stick around I guess. We don’t mind, they’re actually really good natured, and helpful too!

We get the odd dragon fly by, alwasy alerts the island’s heavy hitters when one touches down. Recently we’ve had Garchomp breeding here, they seem to like the mountains, and our resident female was putting out her siren song for a mate all spring. Summer they paired up, laid eggs, now we have little Gibble running around somewhere safe. Last actual dragon type to stop in for some help was a rather thin and dull coloured looking Charizard, had flown too far, exerted itself too much, came crashing into the labs big front doors, nearly took a patient clean out, definetly needed to replace some tables after that. With some good dinners and a bit of TLC they got fat and strong again, and went on their way.

I think once you help out a few Pokemon, word spreads, we get a lot of unusual clients, most of which have stowed away on passing ships, coming to us for information, support, and care. For instance last week we had a Krabby who came in off a cargo ship, swam to the island, made its way to the lab, SAT IN THE WAITING ROOM, legit was happy to wait, all because he had a broken claw and couldn’t get it off to make way for a new one to regrow. We helped him out and he went on home, we got a ship to pull in to return him home luckily.

This week there’s been a Magnezone and a Jolteon magnetised together, they asked for a lift from a visiting trainer who obliged, they’ve since been seperated and sent on their way, back home safe to the wild. Happens from time to time. Who knows what next week will bring haha. Every days interesting here I must say that much.

[white-tulips]

I spent most of this morning continuing playing through the hikikomori route, more of my thoughts below!! (major spoilers ahead!!!!!)

if you haven’t but want to read my first post on my hikikomori playthrough, you can see it [here]!! it’s been a month since I last played any, aha...

I played for quite a few hours earlier but I don’t think I really progressed all that much aha. most of my time went towards grinding and wandering around and seeing little things. oh, and also playing through Orange Oasis. I never actually did that in my first run of the game. it was okay.

I really love how many little details and things to go back to that there are, but I’m still a little bitter at just. how long everything is. I talked about this a lot in my previous post, but it irritates me that the first 15-20 hours (give or take depending on how fast you’re able to blast through this game) is just. exactly the same as what you experience in the main route. especially since now my hikikomori save file is even longer than my main story file, and I think I still have a decent ways to go until I finish. I don’t actually know! I haven’t been spoiled for this route, thankfully, so I don’t really know how much is left. I have a vague idea of a couple areas I need to go to, but that’s about it.

ok, on to my thoughts!! this post is probably just going to be me rambling about tiny details I found interesting since I didn’t progress through much plot stuff, I think.

when I opened up my save file, I. completely forgot what I had been doing a month ago and what I wanted to do next, so I decided to go back to the Last Resort. I don’t know what compelled me to go, but there was a lot of fun stuff there so I’m glad that I did!

I had never tried to use Aubrey to go into the girls’ bathroom before? it was very cute, I liked it. I don’t know why, but as soon as I walked in it really reminded me of Basil. I think it’s all the flowers, photos hanging from the wall, and general soft cutesy vibe. I’m not really sure what to make of that, but it was just my general impression. hmmmm.

I have no words for this other than it just made me amused. go get your vacation, king.

also:

I didn’t know Hero had a confirmed age!! all this time I had been assuming he and Mari were 16 years old, so it’s nice to have something set in stone!

I have no words for these, either. seeing all of the Hero pictures just made me laugh out loud a little I loved it.

when I was standing in Jawsum’s office, I noticed that the elevator behind his desk was shaking. I went to examine it, and was surprised when this was where I ended up.

the black space elevator.

something I completely forgot to mention in my last hikikomori post was black space!! it had completely took me by surprise so I can’t believe I forgot to talk about it.

last time I played and went back to Last Resort, there was a completely black car on the highway and it had really freaked me out. as soon as I clicked on it, instead of giving me some kind of prompt Omori just got in and it drove off. I was so shocked because I wasn’t expecting it fhgjdfhgj. it ended up taking Omori back to one of the black space rooms, and I had no clue what to make of it. I wandered around for a little while, and ended up finding this... friend?

I’m... not sure! who are you......

anyways, so I got in the elevator and we’re back here, now with more spiders.

the spider wasn’t interactable. not sure whether to be upset or relieved.

aaaand then there was this guy in the treehouse. I want to know what these black space NPCs are!!! as soon as I tried to interact with it, the screen glitched out (intentionally) and then it was gone. one day I’ll know what it means.

oh, another thing I spent quite a bit of time doing at the Last Resort-

getting statues made of everyone!! RIP to all of my clams, but these are so cute.

cuuute.

I really liked the comment on Mari’s! it made me happy that it highlighted her playful side.

after I was done reexploring Last Resort, I wanted to go back to Sweetheart’s castle. I was walking through Pyrefly Forest, and I noticed one of the picnic blankets had a cooler open (signaling that you can see a new picnic cutscene) so I went to go sit down and have a picnic.

so, when I was going around earlier and doing some stuff, there were a few picnics that I think I had skipped for some reason so I was doing them and mindlessly skipping through the text for no reason other than it would bother be if I just left them. nothing about the conversations was different even though Basil is here now, so I didn’t think anything would be different for the one in Pyrefly Forest, but I was wrong!! I almost completely skipped through everything aha.

it started off the same, with Hero being scared of the spiders, and then Kel prompted Basil to say something positive to try and make him less scared.

it’s pretty insignificant, but I thought it was interesting that he said pretty much the exact same thing he says in the spider room in black space.

when I got to the castle, I went straight to the library. something about the pattern of going to black space, plus being able to go into the barn in Otherworld, just made me feel like there would be something there. and oh boy was I right. the entire place was crawling with Something.

very good.....

I wasn’t able to get screenshots of them, but there were a couple text popups that really stood out to me. my memory is so bad I can’t remember all of them even though it was only this morning,,, but I’m pretty sure one of them had a popup that was just “Liar.” and I was like HM....

it just really had me thinking....

in my previous post, I mentioned that I had a gut feeling that the Something in the barn was supposed to represent Basil, not Mari. this kind of added fuel to that thought!

the barn in Otherworld was only used in the main route in reference to Basil, with it literally showing Omori a vision of him, and also having Stranger walking into it. now, the library also has a lot of connection to Basil! after picking up one of the keys, it shows us another vision of him, and it’s also littered with egret orchids. I don’t think choosing to have all of these Somethings in both of these places is just a coincidence.

now, about the “Liar.” line. in any fight with Something, if there’s a text popup meant to be Something speaking, it’s always done like this-

with the “???:” to indicate character speech. but the “Liar.” popup was just a standalone line. and it instantly reminded me of this room in black space-

and this just kept making my brain whirl.

in this room, there were all of these popups with “Liar.” and then of course there was-

see here how there also weren’t indications of who was saying ‘liar”, but there was for Something? my idea for this room was always that it was Omori repeating it to himself. because we all know by now that Something is Mari, and her saying “I love you”, especially in this form, is nothing but pure torment. and I think here, we have Omori unwilling to believe it. there’s no way Mari could love him/Sunny. she has to be lying.

soooo then, this brings me back to the library. having the “Liar.” popup there, keeping in consideration that the Somethings there might represent Basil, what could that mean?? it could be in reference to Basil’s words “Everything is going to be okay” because clearly everything is not okay. if all of these Somethings are meant to be Basil, it could fit!!!

... so there’s my long winded theory. idk! I think it makes sense, but I could be wrong!! that’s just my first impressions right now, maybe my thoughts will change when I play more!

moving onto the piano room-

this was when I thought “ohhhh so that’s why the wall always felt hallow. it all makes sense now”

and then I spent the next 30 or so minutes fighting all of the Somethings

I LOVED this. this was the first time a fight was put on a time limit, and since Something was so much more powerful, it felt actually stressful. I was stressed! but I managed to make it with 2-3 turns left, and I didn’t die. I did die about 1 or 2 times to arachnophobia and thalassophobia though F. but it’s okay because I got an achievement and also Omori’s suffocate skill is really good.

anyways I did some more mindless walking around (I had to kill time waiting for all my statues to be built, you know!)

this made me really happy. Big Molio I love you you’re the mvp and you deserve the world.

... looking through my screenshots I wish I could forget this one-

,, do I need to even explain it.

I remember a while ago, I saw someone on twitter post this and iirc the caption was something like “isn’t it a bit morbid to have the jumprope there” and, at the time, I had never gone through Orange Oasis, so seeing that tweet I had the wind knocked out of me. I was just sitting there like “fuuuuuuuuck”. and then I went through Orange Oasis today, saw it again, went “fuuuuuuuuck” and then forgot I screenshot it. it’s just a lot.

okay who knows how I filled the rest of the 6 hours I played because I didn’t take many screenshots of the downtime and running around completing sidequests I never did. the last point of interest today was I had went back to Humphrey.

I didn’t do too much, but I did fight Mutantheart.

I adore her!!!! so cute!!! Mutantheart my beloved.

I lost to her once, because I was a bit confused, but once I caught on to the gimmick of her fight, it was actually pretty easy. rest in peace, queen, I love you...

and then, uh. Her-

I tried 3 times. I didn’t win... all of the characters are maxed leveled at 50, but this is so difficult... well, the first half of the fight I found to be pretty easy, actually. but once she switches into full power mode it’s over. I don’t know how I’m supposed to win. farewell my dream of completing the foe facts book, it was a nice goal while it was realistic. 

and then I stopped for the day! I think I needed that month of not playing, because coming back into the game after a lot of my rage and burnout settled was probably best, and I had a lot of fun playing! hopefully it doesn’t take me another month to continue.

if you made it all the way through this post, thank you for reading! I hope you like my thoughts~

I’ll leave on this note-

king shit

[neakco]

The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

 

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

 

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

 

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

 

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

 

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

 

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

 

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

 

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

 

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

 

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

 

 

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

 

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

 

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

 

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

 

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

 

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

 

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

 

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

 

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

 

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

 

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

 

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

 

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

 

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

 

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

 

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

 

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

 

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

 

“You okay?”

 

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

 

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

 

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

 

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

 

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

 

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

 

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

 

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

 

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

 

“You two are very strange.”

 

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

 

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

 

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

 

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

 

 

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

 

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

 

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

 

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear  “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

 

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

 

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

 

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

 

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

 

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

 

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

 

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

 

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

 

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

 

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

 

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

 

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

 

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

 

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

 

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

 

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

[calicocatwrites]

Ass, Titty, Or Thighs?

Word Count: 1,970

Warnings: Talk of titties and ass, kind of a given, a little bit of swearing in Bakugou and Shinso’s.

Headcanon: Do the BNHA boys prefer ass, titties, thighs, or magical answer number 4?

Characters: Iida, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, Shinso

Author’s Note: Just my take on this idea, of course you can have different opinions than me, this is just what I think!

Tenya Iida:

This is a titty man.

Hear me out with this one.

He looks respectfully, obviously, this is Tenya Iida we’re talking about, but just the way they move has Iida in a different state of mind.

His favorite subject is jiggle physics (I will take myself out-).

Like, how do they move? Does it hurt? Fascinating, truly.

He doesn’t care what they look like, as long as they’re on you, the person he loves, he’s happy.

You’re watching TV in your dorm room when Iida furiously knocks on your door. Pausing your show, you get up and open the door for him.

“Hey, Iida! You need something?”

He quickly glances around your room, as if checking if someone is there, and stutters out his request.

“Ms. Y/N, i-is it ok if I may ask y-you a question I’ve prepared?”

Not seeing any harm in inviting him in, you gently crack open the door a bit more, gesturing for him to enter. Iida gladly takes the invitation and darts into your room. You sit back down on your bed, expecting him to do the same. However, Iida carefully stays standing, looking down at you. Silence starts to take its place in between the two of you, and you finally speak up.

“So, what is it you wanted to ask me?”

“U-uh, y-y-eah, right. I w-was just wondering if I could a-ask you a question about-”

He cuts himself off, almost as if choosing his follow-up words very carefully.

“A-about your… chest area.”

Now it’s your turn to blush, although not nearly as much as he is. At this point it looks like he’s melting from sweat.

“Uh, yeah, you can, is something wrong?”

“N-no! I-it’s just that I w-w-was wondering i-if they work as… comfort. The tissue in breasts is noted to be much more flexible than average, and I assumed that would lead to them being s-softer than average, but does that mean that they hurt? I’d like to test my theory, o-of course not with my hands or anything! That would be extremely disrespectful and as Kirishima would say, ‘unmanly’, but maybe there’s… another way?”

It finally clicks.

“Iida, are you trying to lay on my boobs?”

“P-p-precisely.”

Laughing, you bring him over to lay down as he wanted, and unpause your show.

Katsuki Bakugou:

So we all unanimously agree this is an ass man, right?

If we’re all in agreement, I’ll continue.

But yeah, Bakugou just screams ass man.

He always has a hand in your back pocket when you go places, or stares at your ass when you’re wearing shorts (or even when you aren’t-)

Just like Iida, it’s jiggle physics, astounding.

He’ll buy you clothes that are specifically to show off your ass-

You get ready in your outfit, Bakugou wanting to take you to a new restaurant close to campus. It wasn’t anywhere fancy, just a sushi place, so you didn’t get dolled up or anything, just some leggings and one of Bakugou’s hoodies. You call over to Bakugou, checking if he’s ready to go, and when both of you have your shoes on, you take off to try some sushi.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Bakugou instinctively goes to put his hand in your back pocket, something he always does when you’re out. However, you opted to wear leggings, something comfortable and easy to throw on.

“Y/N, back pocket, not there, what the fuck?”

“I didn’t wear jeans.”

“Well how is everyone supposed to know you’re mine?!”

“Babe, I’m wearing your hoodie.”

“Other people don’t know that’s my hoodie.

“Katsuki, your hand is literally on my ass.”

“Well you didn’t wear something with back pockets, where else am I supposed to put my hand?!?!”

Eijiro Kirishima:

t h i g h s

This man is the actual definition of a thigh man.

He lives for your soft thighs as opposed to his super muscular ones, you just balance him out perfectly, he loves you so much.

He loves laying on your thighs, in between your thighs, with his hand on your thighs, your thighs literally only exist to be perfect and for him.

Oh and the way certain pants compliment your thighs, he would literally buy you anything you want.

Constant thigh compliments, also little kisses on them.

You and Kirishima are just laying together in his dorm, you leaning on Kirishima's shoulder, watching videos pop up on Kirishimas For You Page. Suddenly, as if TikTok knew exactly who Kirishima was and what peaks his interest, a trend came up with a guy in between his girls thighs. Next video? Yep, a girl in between her girls thighs. As soon as the videos came up Kirishima looked at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you or anyone else on Earth had ever seen.

“Babe! Pleaaaase???”

“Not right now, baby.”

“Y/N, I’m four times stronger than you, this isn’t really up for discussion anymore.”

“KIRI-”

Before you know it, Kirishima has pinned you face up on the bed, and laid his head in between your thighs, snuggled up like a little baby in a crib.

“Kiri, I want to have a blanket on my legs, y’know.”

“Then put one on, I can’t be suffocated by sheets if my breath is taken away by your beauty.”

He’s not budging, and will probably fall asleep like that.

Shoto Todoroki:

The next three boys are ‘magical answer number 4’ boys.

This, my friends, is a hand man.

Ah ah ah, hear me out. He loves comparing hand sizes because it makes him feel loved, no matter if your hand is bigger, smaller, or the exact same size, he just likes the feeling of bonding in a loving way.

He loves hand-holding and painting nails (yes, he lets you paint his nails, he also likes painting yours), little hand actions.

He absolutely adores tracing your hands, the outline and any scars, freckles, or crevices. He likes his hands traced as well.

It’s just such a sweet, innocent action.

You and Todoroki are just sitting in his dorm, eating cold soba he got dropped off at the house. You have little trays and are eating on his bed, just talking about whatever comes to mind. Suddenly, Todoroki finds a fitting topic he wants to talk about.

“Your hands are really nice.”

It’s a weird thing to come up with out of the blue, so you just casually dismiss it, a quick ‘thank you’, and more bites of food. Todoroki isn’t really ok with you just ending the conversation like that though, so he takes a more forward approach.

“Y/N, can I hold your hand?”

“Shoto, I need my hands to eat.”

“No, you only need one hand.”

Realizing you aren’t gonna win this battle, you slowly place your hand near him, which he swoops in and takes almost immediately. He starts tracing the outline and shape of your hand, then your wrist, then any scars or freckles, then any little crack or crevice in your hand, sometimes going over your knuckles.

“Shoto, are you going to eat your food or just look at my hands all day?”

“My food will be fine, not like it’s going to get cold, it’s cold soba.”

Yeah, he goes for the later of your suggestions.

Izuku Midoriya:

Ass? Nah. Titty? Nah. Thigh? Nah.

Tummy.

Midoriya loves your stomach, no matter what it looks like, no matter the size, or if there’s scars there, it doesn’t matter.

He likes to pepper kisses all over your belly, and holds you around your waist whenever he can.

He likes laying on your stomach, and falling asleep like that (more than he likes to admit-)

It’s just a beautiful thing, and he loves your belly so much.

You decided to wait for Midoriya in his dorm to surprise him, he went out training today, so you thought it would be nice to see him when he gets back, even if he is tired and desperately needs a shower. Finally, when he’s half an hour late and you’re about to call him to make sure he’s ok and safe, Midoriya stumbles through the door and into his dorm, where you lay on his bed, patiently waiting for his arrival.

“‘Zuku, you’re back, finally! I was getting worried.”

“Y-Y/N! Hey! Y-you should’ve told me you were here, I would’ve finished training faster.”

“Oh, it’s ok!”

Midoriya walks over to his bed, and, exhausted from training, gently flops onto his bed, placing his head on your belly.

“Um, baby, do you want me to move so you can lay on the bed and not… on me?”

“Hm? No reason to, I’ve got my favorite pillow right here, u-unless this bothers you! Then I can totally get up and relocate.”

“No no no, it’s fine, Izuku. Just go to sleep, you’re probably tired from training for such a long time.”

Midoriya gently closes his eyes, and you carefully play with his hair, petting it every so carefully, like it’s a glass vase tilting on an uneven surface, a wrong move and everything breaks. After a while, you hear soft snores coming from your boyfriend, and decide it’s probably best if you fall asleep too.

Hitoshi Shinso:

Kind of a stretch, hear me out.

Eyes man.

This man absolutely loves your eyes. No matter the color, shape, whatever, he just loves eyes.

How they seem to light up when you’re excited, and how they look in that one specific kind of sunlight that makes the whole world shine like gold and bronze.

He loves holding eye contact and doing your eye makeup, even if it looks bad.

Eyes are the gateway to the soul, and Shinso strongly agrees with that.

You and Shino are out at the park. The sun hasn’t quite started setting, but it will soon, in about a half-hour. Shinsou took you out to have a picnic, where he bought ramen noodles and cake and sushi for you guys to eat. Unbeknownst to you, he also brought black eyeliner, makeup remover, and a little gold eye makeup product. Granted, he had no idea how to use them, but maybe today he could learn. After you’ve both eaten, the sun is starting to set, making the whole world almost as beautiful as you, he whips out the cosmetics and explains his plan.

“Y/N, I want to try doing your eye makeup. Can I?”

It takes a good amount of time to process his request, but you agree and let him give it a shot. Laying down, he carefully crawls on top of you, pulls out the eyeliner, and focuses only on your eyes. As much as he wants to pay attention to the eyeliner applicator, for a brief moment he gets caught up in how beautiful your eyes look in the light, and slips up.

“Shit, I messed up.”

“It’s ok! Just take some makeup remover on a Q-Tip and try again, babe.”

After a couple slip ups, he finally gets the eyeliner and the little gold shimmer on your eyes, and brings you up to your feet so you’re both standing.

“Wow, you look incredible.”

“Thank you, Shinso, you look great too.”

He pecks your cheek, packs up the picnic, and you two are on your merry way, Shinso excited to look at your eyes again and again, grateful to call you his significant other.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 41

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

If you want to talk about books, join my Discord server.

----

Chapter 41

Ron clutched the final envelope in his hand. He didn’t want to open it. What if there was a reason that one had arrived last? What if they’d given him false hope with all of the other parts, and then this was the big letdown?

He was reminded of the time the OWL results had arrived and how sick he’d felt. He’d been convinced he’d failed everything back then, because during every exam, it was as if his mind had gone blank of information, almost as if he was three years old again and didn’t know how to perform a single spell.

But that worked out, he reminded himself. He’d gotten seven OWLs in the end, which was extremely impressive.

And so far, he’d passed every single aptitude test in the three years of his Auror training, including the final ones. It was the theory component that worried him.

He wasn’t good at theory. He couldn’t look at a book and absorb the information. That was Hermione’s area of expertise, and he admired her for it. But… at least he’d remembered some of the stuff this time round.

He’d taken the final tests two weeks prior, and those two weeks of waiting had certainly been the worst of Ron’s life. He’d checked multiple times a day for any Ministry owls making their way through the windows to the point that Hermione had forbidden him from getting the mail. Now it was her job to check it, and if anything arrived, she’d let him know.

It wasn’t helped by the fact that the two week wait had him at home by himself while Hermione worked. There was no more training left, and he couldn’t become a fully licensed Auror until his results were in.

Thankfully, Harry was in the same boat, so Ron had spent most of his time at Grimmauld Place helping Harry prepare to sell the house.

It had been all over the Prophet the moment Harry put it on the market, receiving a lot of interest from people who, Ron was sure, were more interested in coming to see where the Harry Potter lived than buying the actual house.

Who would want to buy a house owned by a Dark wizarding family for most of its existence? Especially one that was unplottable.

Still, Harry was adamant that he couldn’t live there anymore, and he wanted to be done with the whole thing.

“Maybe you should just hold onto it,” Ron had said as they packed up a room used as a storage space for the Blacks and Harry. “Keep it for the future.”

“Can’t anymore, even if I wanted to,” Harry had replied. “I’ve given half the wizarding population the address now. I’m moving.”

Two weeks had passed since that conversation. The two weeks Ron needed to get through in order for the final exam results to arrive. Hermione had left for work at seven that morning, and Ron had Floo’d over almost instantly to see Harry. Together they waited for midday, when the results were due to arrive.

Harry was already tearing into his, scanning the letter. Ron stared at his name on the front. He wished Hermione was here. She would be able to comfort him, probably assure him that he needed to stop being an idiot and that he would do just fine. But she was at work, blissfully unaware of his turmoil.

“Er, I passed!” Harry said, looking at Ron. “How’d you —” He noticed Ron’s unopened letter and rolled his eyes. “Oh, go on. You passed, I know you did.”

Ron swallowed. Harry just didn’t get it. He was probably going to pass even if he’d gotten every question wrong, because he was Harry, and they wanted him in the Aurors. But Ron wasn’t Harry. Neville wasn’t Harry. The rest would have to work for their results.

“You did just fine,” Harry said, almost irritated. “Want me to open it for you?”

“No,” Ron said. “I’ll… do it.” He broke the Ministry seal on the envelope and took out the letter.

This wasn’t like getting his OWLs at all. This was ten times worse. He’d dedicated three years to training, he had no alternative plan if this didn’t work out. What was he supposed to do if he didn’t pass the test?

He slowly unfolded the letter that would seal his fate.

“Oh,” he said.

“What?” Harry asked.

Ron looked up, his whole face burning red.

Harry’s smile faltered a little. “You, er, did —”

“Ninety-five percent,” Ron said.

“What?” Harry asked. “That’s… really good!” He folded up his own letter.

“What did you get?” Ron asked.

“Ninety-four,” Harry said.

“I beat you?” Ron asked, surprised. He’d never beaten Harry at a test before. They’d received identical results often, but Ron had never beaten Harry. And he’d not expected it in Auror training either.

“Was never good at multiple choice questions,” Harry said, shrugging and then smiling. “I guess drinks are in order, then?”

“Yeah, alright,” Ron said, air being let out of his lungs like a balloon.

“Ginny’s idea. She said once we got the remaining results, she’ll organise a celebration.” He paused, his smile turning into a grin suddenly. “Hey! This means we’re fully trained Aurors now. We’re Aurors.”

“It’s all I wanted to do!” Ron said, a grin spreading on his own face as the realisation hit him. He was an Auror. Finally. He’d never really thought it was something he could achieve. It usually required higher marks, Outstanding NEWT results and better wand ability than Ron ever could achieve under normal circumstances.

It had just been a dream, but that dream had just become a reality for him.

He sat down in the armchair, clutching the letter still.

He was an Auror.

“Ginny’ll be home tonight,” Harry said. “This afternoon, actually. Once Hermione finishes work, I think we should go out. Me, Ginny, you and Hermione. Neville, too. We should ask Neville. I’ll send him an owl now to see.”

Ron nodded, still not sure he believed it.

He was an Auror.

Harry vanished into another room to find a quill and some parchment and returned, sitting in an armchair beside Ron.

As he was scribbling the note for Neville, he said, head still down, “Hey, I never actually asked officially.”

“Asked what?” Ron asked, vaguely.

“You’ll be my best man at my wedding, won’t you? We’ve set a date. August twenty-fourth this year.”

Ron came to then. He looked at Harry. “Y-yeah, of course,” he said. “Of course I will. And you’ll, of course, be mine?”

“Would be an honour,” Harry said, folding the note up. “The biggest honour to be at the wedding of my two best friends. You guys set a date yet?”

“No,” Ron said. “We’ve not really discussed it. With all the tests, and then waiting for results… hasn’t been the best time to make any clear-cut decisions about something so important. For me, anyway.” In the six weeks they’d been engaged, he knew Hermione had been going through books, reading up on traditions, considering some places, some dates, looking at wedding dresses, and doing a lot of other things to do with the wedding.

But Ron had been too stressed to think clearly about something that seemed a while away, and then after he’d taken his tests, too nervous about the results to plan.

He wanted to be able to make clear decisions about what would be the most important and special day of his life, and while he awaited the results of his future, he couldn’t.

Hermione had understood and said she’d keep some things aside so they could talk about it when he was ready.

“Well, after today you’ll have more time.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, and some of his shock about becoming an Auror dissipated. Now he could anticipate something much more exciting than test results.

…

“I knew you’d both do it!” Hermione said, giving Harry a hug. She then turned to Ron and kissed him. “I’m so happy and proud of both of you.”

“And those test results are amazing!” Ginny added. “One hundred percent on all your final aptitude tests, and almost one hundred percent on the theory. The pair of you are going to make formidable Aurors. Dark witches and wizards have no chance. I think Tonks told me once that she scored ninety on her theory.”

“Don’t give us a reputation before we’ve started, Gin,” Harry said.

Ginny smiled. “You deserve it.”

“We still need our formal offers into the Auror department,” Ron said. “Can’t start a job when we don’t have one.”

“As if Kingsley wouldn’t offer you actual jobs,” Hermione said. “Apart from being very depleted, he needs people like you.”

Ron thought she was right. Now that they’d passed, Kingsley would be sure to offer them actual jobs. And with that came a decent pay rise, which meant a nicer wedding than before.

“Hey, guys.”

Everyone turned. They were standing out in front of the Three Broomsticks, waiting for Neville to arrive, who’d graciously accepted Harry’s invitation to celebrate with them.

“Hey, Neville,” they all said together.

“How’d you go, mate?” Ron asked.

Neville nodded. “I passed. I did well. Eighty-nine percent on the theory, one hundred percent on two of the aptitude tests, and ninety-seven on the rest.”

“That’s great, Neville,” Hermione said, and she stepped forward to hug him. Ginny did the same. Harry and Ron clapped him on the back.

“We should go in then now that we’re all here,” Ginny said, her hand resting on the entrance to the pub.

“I’m still waiting on… someone,” Neville said suddenly, and under the pale moonlight, Ron saw his cheeks tinge pink.

“Who?” Ron asked.

“... someone,” Neville muttered.

“As in… a date?” Ron pressed. Hermione elbowed him as a warning to not pry.

Neville nodded, his blush deepening.

“Who?” Ron said again. “Is this new?”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded. “Stop being so nosy.”

“A few months,” Neville said quietly.

“Thanks for letting us — your friends — know,” Ron said, but he smiled. “They on their way?”

Neville nodded again. “She’ll be here in a moment.”

Ginny took up a conversation with Hermione about Ginny’s Quidditch team and how she was going, while Ron, Harry and Neville stood in silence.

After a moment, Ron said, “Seriously, who is she? You’ve been seeing someone, Nev?”

“Someone from school,” Neville said. But before he could elaborate, a woman who looked vaguely familiar to Ron approached them, albeit not without a little hesitation.

It took Ron a moment, but he placed her as Hannah Abbott. Ron didn’t think he’d ever spoken to her in his whole time at Hogwarts, though it wasn’t because he had any strong opinions about her. They just… never interacted. Not even during their time in Dumbledore’s Army together.

“Hi, Hannah!” Hermione said before Neville could even introduce them. Of course Hermione would be on more friendly terms with her. She seemed to have spoken to everyone during their time at Hogwarts. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks!” Hannah said. “How are you…” She looked around at everyone standing there. “How are you all? Thanks for inviting me.”

“That’s quite alright,” Ginny said before anyone could share an uncomfortable look that they actually hadn’t invited her. Until a moment ago, they hadn’t even known she was coming. But, to be fair, if they had known Neville was seeing her, she would have been invited.

“Let’s go in, shall we?” Ginny then said. “I had a table reserved as there’s a few of us and it’s become a popular night time spot for more than just the creeps of Hogsmeade. Sorry, Hannah, I organised this a while back and Neville only told us today you were coming. I’m sure an extra chair won’t be a bother.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said.

“Just over there,” Rosmerta said when she spotted them. She pointed to a table at the back in a corner that was out of the way of everyone else.

“Do you have a spare chair, Rosmerta?” Ginny asked.

“If you can find one,” Rosmerta said, waving a hand in the general direction of other tables, clearly distracted by her customers.

“You seem awfully friendly with her,” Ron said as he picked up a vacant chair and carried it over to their table.

“The Harpies like to come here after a game sometimes,” Ginny said. “Would anyone like a Butterbeer? Firewhisky? I’ll get them.”

While Ginny disappeared to get the drinks, everyone else arranged themselves around the table. It was a little squishy, but they all somehow fit. Ron found himself squished into the corner of the booth with Hermione (which he didn’t mind one bit).

“It’s nice of you guys to organise something,” Neville said. “And to invite me.”

“You’ve been through the three years with us, Nev,” Ron said. “You’re always invited.”

Neville flushed with pleasure, and Ron felt a wave of affection for him.

“How are you going, Hannah?” Hermione said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. Ron shifted to give them a little more room and placed his arm around her waist. “I heard that you’re at St Mungo’s?”

How she knew that, Ron had no idea, but that was one of the many things he loved about Hermione. She knew everything.

“Yes, there’s a few from our year who’re doing Healing too,” Hannah said. “Seamus Finnigan… you probably know that, he said he’s still in contact with all of you. And Padma Patil.”

“Yes, I heard she was, too,” Hermione said.

“How is it?” Harry asked. “Healing, I mean?”

“Oh, I love it,” Hannah said. “It’s so rewarding. Tiring, but still rewarding. I’m working in the long-term resident ward. Do you remember Professor Lockhart? He’s still there!”

No one said anything to that. Ron assumed the others were of the same mind as he was — they had seen him there a few years ago, still as mad as ever. Thankfully, Ginny chose that moment to return with the drinks, so no one had to. She had two in her hands, and was levitating the others with her wand. She slid into the booth next to Harry.

“Have you and Neville been in contact all this time?” Ginny asked, looking at Hannah.

“Oh, no,” Hannah said, and she laughed slightly. “Through Seamus, really. We went out one evening after a rough day — me, Seamus and Padma — and he invited Neville and Dean along too. We got talking, reminiscing on a lot of Herbology lessons, and we kind of just clicked.”

Neville flushed, but Ron saw a smile hidden within his red face.

“That’s so good,” Ginny said, grinning at Neville. “What a nice story.”

“Yeah,” Hannah said, also smiling. She then looked at the others with more focus. “And Neville told me about you all getting married.” Her eyes flicked to Harry and Ginny first. “Congratulations.” She then looked to Ron and Hermione. “And to you two as well. Such lovely news. Have you set any dates?”

“We have,” Ginny said. “When we send an invitation out, we’ll be sure to send yours with Neville’s. Guests are welcome, of course, we’re just putting secrecy charms on the invitations to stop any unwelcome guests showing up.”

By unwelcome guests, Ron knew she meant the media. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley would be a wedding that gossip magazines and the Prophet would love to get a story on. High profile weddings such as theirs were not a common thing in the wizarding world.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Neville said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah,” Ginny said. “It sounds mean, but… we just want family and friends there, not snooping journalists trying to get in. So all stuff will be revealed on the invitation and once people read it, they’ll not be able to speak any of it out loud.”

“That’s a bit insulting to your brother, don’t you think?” Ron asked her. “You don’t trust even me?”

“Knowing you and your big mouth, you’ll let it slip by accident somewhere,” Ginny said, and Harry and Neville chuckled.

Ron scowled at both of them and sunk back into the booth.

“Well, we aren’t telling you ours either,” he said, knowing he was pouting.

“Because you don’t have one,” Ginny said.

Ron shot her a glaring look, to which she only rolled her eyes. “By the time you bother to even choose a date, people will have forgotten you’re even engaged. You are the definition of taking things slow.”

Everyone bar Hannah nodded in agreement, including Hermione. Ron looked at her.

“It doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,” she said kindly.

Ron folded his arms across his chest, leaning on the table again. He said nothing more on the subject.

The evening ended up being a pleasant one, the conversation going on until near midnight. Hannah, who Ron had always considered rather quiet, talked a lot and asked lots of questions about everything.

“Are you really selling your godfather’s house, Harry?”

“Why did you choose to live in Nottingham? That’s where I grew up. I live in London now.”

“How do you think the Harpies will fare against the Magpies next week, Ginny? My brother supports the Magpies.”

She was nice, though, and if Neville wasn’t Neville, who acted shy in many social situations, Ron would have thought he was quite pleased with himself.

“When do you think we’ll be able to start our actual jobs as Aurors?” Ron asked as the clock now ticked past midnight. There were still a few people left in the pub. Though, the later it got, the shadier the people became.

“I’d think very soon,” Hermione said. “They need more Aurors, and now that all the first lot of trainees since the war have finished, I’m sure Kingsley will want you all in as soon as possible. You probably all know what you’re doing more than half the Aurors already there anyway.”

“Flattering, Hermione,” Harry said with a tired smile.

“The truth,” she said firmly.

Hannah stifled a yawn, and truthfully, Ron didn’t blame her. He’d enjoyed the night, but he was starting to think about his bed more than the people he was spending time with.

Ginny and Hannah were still chatting when he fell into a peaceful stupor that had his mind wandering to what was to come for him. Starting a real job, getting married…

He was startled when he felt a hand on his leg. He turned to see Hermione smiling at him. “Do you want to go?”

“Do you?” he asked. “If you want to stay, we can stay. I’ll just… nap in the booth.”

“I haven’t even been home,” Hermione said. “Only to change from work clothes. I think we’re all going anyway.”

Ron looked around to see everyone else grabbing coats, getting to their feet as the conversation died down. Ron took Hermione’s hand as they all exited the pub.

“I don’t know how many times I went there in school,” Hannah said. “But now that we’re out, we mostly go to the Leaky Cauldron. My great uncle is the owner there.”

“Tom’s your uncle?” Hermione asked.

“Great uncle,” Hannah said with a nod.

“I never knew,” Hermione replied.

“Yeah, it doesn’t always come up in conversation.”

They were standing outside now. The temperature had significantly dropped while they’d been inside. Now that he was on his feet, Ron could feel the four Butterbeers and two Firewhiskys he’d drank going through him. No wonder he’d been falling asleep inside.

“Thanks for inviting me again,” Hannah said brightly. “I had fun.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Ginny said. She then looked between Harry, Ron and Hermione. “Or see you again.”

Neville and Hannah left, heading up the main street of Hogsmeade hand-in-hand.

“How nice.” Hermione sighed. “I’m happy for them.”

“Neville with a girlfriend is… strange,” Ron mused, watching their disappearing figures step into the night. He gripped Hermione’s hand tighter, then dug into his pocket to retrieve his wand.

Hermione’s hand covered it.

“Maybe I’ll Disapparate?” she suggested. “I don’t want any unnecessary Splinchings.”

Ron hesitated for a moment, trying to count how many drinks he’d seen her have but couldn’t recall. His brain was a little foggy on the details.

He didn’t even feel drunk, just… heavy-headed.

“Yeah, alright,” he said and stowed his wand back into his pocket.

“You’ll be at the Burrow tomorrow night?” Ginny asked.

“I guess?” Hermione said, sounding confused. “Is there a special reason?”

“Nope, Mum just asked me to ask you. I think she’s a bit upset over the fact that we all only seem to come over for ‘special occasions’ these days. You know, with us having jobs, our own homes, and all that. Kids, for some of us.”

“We’ll be there then,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, count us in,” Ron added, only realising since Ginny had said it that his presence at the Burrow really had dropped off in the last three months or so. They still visited, of course, but he’d spent more time at Grimmauld Place than he did there.

The flat had been comfortable, but it had never been ‘home.’ To a point, the Burrow had still felt like home to him while he and Hermione navigated apartment living. But the Nottingham house had changed his perspective. That was home now, and he felt the same warmth he’d always felt at the Burrow every time he set foot in his house.

There was just so much potential there, so many things that felt right about living there, and so many things he could envision for the future.

“Great, see you tomorrow night then.” Ginny beamed at both of them, and then she and Harry Disapparated from right in front of them.

Ron flinched at the sound, his hearing suddenly oversensitive.

“Come on,” Hermione said, squeezing his hand tightly and taking out her wand with her free one. “Let’s go to bed. I’m so tired.”

[bidotorg]

Musician, Scientist, and Activist. Meet Carlos Castaño.

My name is Carlos Castaño. I was born on April 16th, 1987 in Béjar, a small town near Salamanca (Spain). However, I’ve been living in Madrid for the last 12 years where I work as a Ph.D. scientist researching molecular biology. I love movies, books, nature, and music. I actually play the keyboard and sing in a rock band called Me Quito el Cráneo!

Turns out, I am also bisexual. This took me a lot of time to figure out and the bisexual group of COGAM (an LGBT association from Madrid) was very relevant in this process. Having a safe place where bi people could just be themselves showed me what bisexuality really was and allowed me to embrace my identity and live my life to its fullest. I started my bi activism in this group, which I am currently coordinating with other bi activists.

In time, I joined the bisexual area of FELGTB (Spanish LGBT Federation), which is one of Spain’s main LGBT organisations made of LGBT groups from all over Spain. Here, I was part of the group of bi activists coordinating FELGTB Bisexual Visibility Year in 2016, which increased bi visibility in Spain. This was the first time I came out as bisexual publicly (in national papers or TV news). It was very, very scary, but also, very rewarding in the end. At the moment I am part of the FELGTB main board, a team made of nine LGBT activists from different areas of Spain working to improve the life of LGBT people from Spain and the rest of the world.

How long have you been out and who was the hardest person to tell?

I’ve been out for four years and a half.

The hardest person to tell was probably my mother, even though she and my father had raised me in an open-minded environment. At first, she did not understand what being bisexual was and she accepted me nonetheless. This acceptance increased when, bit by bit, I explained to her about bisexuality, bi-erasure, and so on. This made me so happy.

Who is your bi icon?

My bi icons are the Spanish bi activists that worked before me. They paved the way so my activism and my life would be much easier than it was for them. And of course, the bi activists that are currently working all over Spain to fight biphobia and increase bi visibility.

What is your greatest extravagance or indulgence?

I've got plenty of those but I would say that my greatest extravagance is that sometimes, when I am alone with my husband, we speak to each other using some sort of a made-up cat language (just using “meows”) and, oddly enough, we understand each other! It’s super weird!

As for my indulgence, I use to eat food that I like as a reward for the work that I do, so on Saturdays, after a looong week, I often eat a large dish of pasta with cheese and Lea & Perrins sauce using my mum’s recipe.

What do you like most about yourself?

I can multitask! I am a scientific researcher, a musician, a writer, and an activist. I think that’s cool… and a bit exhausting.

What was your last post on social media?

Two tweets saying how much I loved the movie Ralph Breaks the Internet and how I probably enjoyed it more than the kids that were watching it.

Where would you most like to live?

I love Madrid. I got everything I need in this city… although sometimes I miss the countryside where I grew up… but I can get to my hometown by car in less than three hours and enjoy nature.

Would you like to be famous? If so, for what?

My only ambition is to sleep eight hours a day, which I rarely do, even on weekends! I think being famous would demand less sleeping for me, so no thanks!

What do you know now that you wish you’d known when you were 18?

That studying a lot, getting a degree, a master and even a Ph.D. would not necessarily get me a good job. I would tell myself “stay away from science, lad!!!”.

What are you the most grateful for today?

My family, my friends, and my husband.

If you could change any one thing about the way you were raised, what would it be?

I wouldn’t change that much. I was lucky enough that my parents always told me that I would be loved no matter who I loved. Of course, they never taught me that bisexuality was a thing, but then, they didn’t know!

If you could wake up tomorrow with one new quality or skill, what would you choose?

I would love to have the ability to sleep whenever I wanted, for the exact time that I wanted. That would be awesome.

What’s your fandom?

I love way too many fictional stories or characters that I find inspiring and have contributed to my view of the world. For example, I love Doctor Who because of the witty anti-violence and feminist stories, or the Final Fantasy videogame series as they have some of my favourite stories and characters, especially Yuna from Final Fantasy X.

What trophy or prize do you most covet?

I don’t recall winning any trophies in my life, to be honest! Does a Ph.D. fellowship count as some kind of prize? If so, this definitely the prize I most covet!

What is something you remember fondly that someone who is now a baby will not grow up with or understand from personal experience?

Jokes from Monkey Island or The Simpsons that some younger people than me don’t understand. How can they communicate without using jokes from The Simpsons!?

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Courage, probably.

What stereotype about bi people annoys you the most in your own life?

I just hate the stereotype that says that bi men are actually gay men in denial, or that bi women are just straight women “playing." It is oftentimes used as a joke in a very harmful way because it shames people’s internalized biphobia or/and homophobia. When you think about it, it’s incredibly cruel.

Your house is on fire and all people and animals are already out and safe. You get a chance to run back in safely and save a single possession. What would it be?

Nah, I think that I would enjoy the company of the people and animals that are out and safe! It’s not like I don’t care for my possessions but, my favourite music I can find on Spotify, my favourite books are in my ebook (and could be retrieved if my device broke), most of the video games I own I have already finished so I wouldn’t need to buy them again. After moving a lot from house to house I’ve learned not to accumulate much, or I will suffer the consequences when I have to leave one house and move to the next. And it’s not like I (or most people my age) can afford a house in Madrid so…

Who’s your favorite bi character?

Captain Jack Harkness from Doctor Who and Torchwood.

Given the choice of anyone in the world, living or from history, with whom would you want to sit down and have dinner?

I believe that we often have these fantasies of meeting some celebrity or person from history that we admire. However, I have the theory that these role models are idealized, so it is highly likely that we would be disappointed when finally meeting them. Therefore, I’d rather have dinner with someone I have already met and admire. My answer is definitely my late grandfather and grandmother.

What is the best thing about being bi?

Being bi is like being a double agent. You know that what most people think about dating men or women is wrong. For example, straight men that complain about how difficult is to communicate with the women they date don’t know that this also happens when men date men. Having dated men that see and treat you as an object helped me to understand painfully well everything that my female friends were complaining about all the time. It gives you a great gender perspective and an out-of-the-binary view of the world that I find very rewarding. Of course, being bi does not necessarily make me a better person but I feel that all that I have learned from my bisexuality may help make the world a better place.

*If you are interested in being featured as part of bi.org What Bi Looks Like series, please fill out the form here.

[thedeathdeelers]

Pillow

oof. i’m not sure how this turned into a 2k thing, but anyway

hope you like it 🤗

also available on my AO3

———

(song)titles are impossible

Julie was sat on the black weathered couch in the studio, staring blankly into space.

They had been sat in the studio for hours today trying to come up with a new song name for their latest anthem. She was rather proud of the song - it might even be one of the best ones she’s co-written with Luke yet.

And so, it seemed only fitting that they come up with a song title that truly represented the sheer greatness of their collaborative genius.

(Like I said, she was really proud of this one.)

They had even managed to rope in Reggie and Alex to help this time. Something both boys were deeply regretting right now.

It wasn’t going too great.

“Come on guys! It’s just a song name.” Julie could hear the whining and exasperation all the way from down here. She barely held the urge to roll her eyes, looking up towards her band mate, eyes slightly unfocused from being zoned out for so long.

Alex was sat in his favourite spot in the loft, legs hanging, as his forearms rested against the grainy wood of the railing.

“Just pick the first two or three words that stand out the most from the chorus and call it a day. I was supposed to meet up with Willie half an hour ago.” His lip jutted out in a pout, the way it always did whenever Alex spoke about his boyfriend.

“Alex, I’ve already told you, we want this title to stand out. It’s got to be something different from the rest of our songs - we can’t just “pick words from the chorus”.” She might have repeated that last sentence with a bit more attitude than was required. She was getting tired, sue her.

Another groan, and a soft thump to her right, made her turn her head. Reggie, sat in a very precarious position on the armchair, rubbed at his face.

“Come on Julie, Ray has a very big photo shoot going on right now. He’s been stressing about it all week - I need to be there for emotional support!”

Emotional support ghost floated through Julie’s mind.

Alex snorted. “Reg, he doesn’t even know you exist.”

“It still counts! I help him find things sometimes, makes things run smoother.” He stuck his tongue out at his friend, before he turned back towards Julie.

“Just use something from your dreambox? Maybe you’ll find something in there to inspire you?” He sounded a little too hopeful.

“You think I haven’t tried that already? Luke and I have been trying to think up of a title for days! You guys were literally our last resort.”

She heard a low mumble coming from the loft, something that sounded a lot like “gee thanks.”

With a snort and a sigh, Julie’s head fell back, resting on the couch pillows as her eyes took in the familiar sight of their studio’s ceiling. Why was this so hard? They’ve already done all of the hard work; the lyrics, the melody, the bass and drum and guitar parts. They just needed a title! This was just too frustrating.

She rolled her head to the left, in the direction of the other end of the sofa, hoping her songwriting partner was having better luck than she was.

Instead she found him looking right at her. Just staring. She could say she’s gotten used to having his piercing hazel eyes focused solely on her, but she’d be lying. She felt her cheeks growing a little warmer.

She stared back, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him, but his eyes didn’t waver. His expression taking on a more questioning look.

Feeling self-conscious, her hand automatically reached up to cover whatever it was she assumed was wrong with her face.

“What, what’s wrong? Do I have something on my face? Is something stuck in my hair again?” Julie started picking at random stray hairs, checking for loose dust bunnies and fluff.

But Luke quickly shook his head at her question, only just realising that he was openly staring.

“No, no! Your face is perfect. I mean it’s perfectly fine- I mean you’re fine- you’re good!” He stumbled his way through his sentence, turning slightly pink as he shifted his gaze back to his lap, attempting to focus on his notebook.

Huh.

“Luke had that “I wonder what would happen if-“ look to him.” Belatedly, Julie remembered that her two band mates were still in the room with them.

“He had his what what?”

“You know, whenever he’s thinking of something weird, a random idea popping into his head. He gets all” Reggie motioned to the general area of his face, “and that’s when you know.”

Now Julie was really curious. She turned her head back towards a still pink Luke, about to ask him what he was thinking about, when Alex jumped in before her.

“Okay! Looks like you guys are taking a break so I’m just going to pop out real quick!” And before Julie could even articulate a shout, Alex literally popped out of the studio. She hated that they could do that so easily.

Not even a second later, she heard Reggie disappear as well.

At least Luke had no one to interrupt them now.

Julie shifted, twisting around on the sofa as she brought her knee up onto the seat, tucking her foot under her left leg as it dangled over the front. Leaning back against the armrest, she folded her arms, zeroing in on her lead guitarist.

“So, you going to tell me, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

Luke’s head snapped up at that, staring at her as his eyebrows disappeared under his beanie.

“Beat it out of me?” His surprise quickly morphed into a smirk. He looked good when he was being cocky.

No Julie, focus.

Rolling her eyes at him, she replied with an off handed “You know what I mean.”

“No, no I really don’t.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not - I’m really interested to know what you meant by that. Didn’t realise you were into violence, Molina.” Another smirk.

“Luke.”

“What?”

“LUKE!”

“Fine, fine! Geez relax. Don’t need to get all grouchy on me.”

“I’m not grouchy!” Julie was finding it hard to keep her temper in check - Luke always had this way of riling her up with just 2-3 well placed words.

“Really?” Luke deadpanned.

She just harrumphed back at him, willing herself to keep her mouth shut long enough to let him speak.

But he stayed quiet, his eyes flirting between her face and something over her shoulder.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, cocking her head to side, urging him to go ahead.

He sighed.

“It’s stupid. Honestly, you’ll think you’ve wasted your breath trying to get me to spill.”

She didn’t react, choosing to simply wait for him to continue.

He threw his hands up in the air.

“Uh! I was just wondering what your hair would feel like to sleep on. There. See? Stupid.”

She could only blink back at him.

One blink. Two. Still nothing.

“What.”

“You know - like what a pillow stuffed with your hair would be like. Soft, or flat or comfy. I figure the curls have enough give to them that it’d be soft enough to hold without fully flattening out.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

All she could do was stare back at him, completely flabbergasted. This was not what she was expecting. She’s not even sure what she was expecting - but definitely not this.

What.

She sat there all afternoon trying to think up of song titles, and instead of helping he was thinking about what her hair would feel like as a pillow?

Maybe Alex was right. Maybe they really did need a break.

Julie was so busy trying to wrap her head around what Luke had just told her, that she hadn’t noticed him awkwardly fidgeting as he sat there waiting for her to say something.

“So yeah. I told you. Dumb.”

At his words, Julie snapped out of her confused daze, refocusing on the embarrassed ghost in front of her.

He was silly, had weird habits and a definitely questionable thought process, but she loved him as he was.

Making her mind up on the spot, Julie shifted, pushing her body further down the couch until her head rested fully on the arm rest. Even with her legs bent at the knee, her feet were nearly pressed against Luke’s thigh.

She lifted her hand up, holding it out for him to take, but he only just stared at her, utterly confused at the turn of events.

“Come on, you can test out your theory now if you‘d like.” Julie patted her hair as it lay covering the armrest next to her.

She could see that Luke was still lost, not fully grasping what she was telling him. So she sat up, grabbed his hand and pulled him back down with her.

This time he reacted quickly, shaking his head as if to expel any lingering confusion. He moved forwards, laying down next to her. Julie squeezed herself back against the back cushions, as Luke’s head came to rest on top of the overflowing curls that were taking over the armrest.

Julie, already lying on her side and facing Luke, couldn’t help but stare at his profile, his face so close. His eyes were closed, eyelashes so incredibly long, as he wiggled his head left and right, trying to get comfortable. Her lips twitched, he really was taking this seriously.

A few minutes passed before he opened his eyes, shifting until he was on his side, facing Julie.

Julie couldn’t help but wince a little at his sudden movements, feeling a few strands pull at her scalp.

“Sorry!” Luke nearly jumped as he made to get up, trying to move away and avoid pulling at her hair even more. And although it did hurt, Julie wasn’t ready to move on from this ridiculous situation they found themselves in just yet.

“No! No, it’s alright. I just needed to move a few of the shorter strands. Don’t worry.” She put her hand on his arm, pulling him back down, and leaving it there to make sure stayed in his current position.

They remained quiet, both staring, mesmerised and completely taken by each other. This went on for a few minutes longer, until Julie could feel the tension rising. She had to break it before she did something she might (or might not) regret. Clearing her throat, she broke the silence that had taken over the studio.

“So, what’s the verdict?” She kept her voice low, nearly a whisper.

“Hm?”

Hearing him sound dazed, with his eyes, previously fully focused on hers, now shifting towards her lips, made Julie’s heart rate pick up, beating a little faster than it was a few seconds ago.

“You know,” she smiled, trying to control the heat spreading further through her cheeks, “My hair. Is it as comfortable as you imagined it’d be?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” His grin stretched wide, the effect of it taking Julie by surprise - apparently proximity made it more potent. “The perfect pillow. I think my favourite, actually. Not sure how I’ll be able to use the ol’ standard ones anymore from now on.”

His eyes crinkled, shining with so much emotion as his hand came to rest on her cheek, thumb gently tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

Oh.

Could she love this boy anymore than she already did? Apparently she could.

Feeling a little daring, helped by their current position, Julie quirked her lips into a small mischievous smile.

“Well, if you ever feel like you might need a break from the boring standard pillows, all you have to do is ask.” She moved a little closer, his eyes widening as she felt his warm breath on her lips.

“I might just say yes.”

FIN